Private Philip Edwards, my grandfather's cousin, sat in a foxhole near Chateau-Thierry France on July 19, 1918 with pen and paper in hand. The 23-year-old soldier, aware he would be "going over the top" soon, wrote a brief farewell letter that would be mailed to his parents if he were killed in action. Seventy-five years later, inspired by Philip's words, I began a remarkable journey of discovery and truly came to know an American hero. I'd like you to know him too.

France, July 1918

At 10 p.m. on July 17, the French countryside felt the fury of a powerful thunderstorm. Bright flashes of light and the resounding crashes that followed were nature's angry reply to the many horrors she had so recently witnessed on the battlefield. The rain poured down without let up, turning the fields into marsh and choking the roads with mud. Private Philip Edwards and the other members of the 102nd Regiment, 26th Division tried their best to stay dry encamped under cover of trees near Bouresches Wood northwest of Chateau-Thierry on the right flank of the American line. The 102nd had advanced to this position earlier in the day, dodging the occasional bursting shell as they walked through blowing fields of wheat marked with red poppies.

As the storm continued to rage, the wind snapped a limb off a nearby tree and it landed with a thud just a few yards away from Philip's best friend Corporal John Simmons. It was a close call. John was always calm and level headed but the thought of surviving the hell of war only to be taken out by such a random occurrence unnerved him. In the midst of the deluge, a runner arrived with the attack order for the division. The men soon learned that only the 103rd and 104th Regiments would be involved. Philip's heart sank. He was anxious to get into the fight. The constant shelling during the previous week had him on edge, but for now he and the other members of the 102nd would have to wait. At midnight, to the chorus of a driving rain, Philip drifted off to sleep. By 3 a.m., the rain had ended and the gathering storm of battle neared.

At 4:45 a.m. on July 18, all the guns in the sector opened up and elements of the 103rd and 104th Regiments immediately advanced and caught the Germans off guard. The Americans captured the villages of Belleau and Torcy. The positive news soon reached the men of the 102nd. Philip and John spent a good portion of the day together, cleaning their .30-06 Springfield rifles, eating a few square meals and mentally preparing for what might lie ahead. The two were like brothers. An inseparable bond had developed between them when they were young. Earlier in the war, John had spent some time recovering in the hospital after surviving a gas attack on the front lines. It was one of the few instances when he couldn't be there to look out for his best friend. After John returned to the regiment, both he and Philip agreed that they would stick together whenever possible and make it through the war so they could both return to the sweethearts they left behind in their hometown of Naugatuck, Connecticut.

On July 19, it became clear that the 102nd would be going into action soon. The chaplain offered a prayer and suggested that the men write letters to be mailed to their loved ones in the event that they were killed in action. Philip spent some time reading his Bible. As he sat in the crudely dug foxhole where he had slept the previous night, Philip began to ponder the emotional task at hand. He thought of his parents, his sweetheart Ella Wininger, and all the young children from the neighborhood who looked up to him. Then, from the gas mask bag that hung from a sling around his neck, he pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen and slowly began to write ... "My Dear Mother and Father,..." In the evening, Philip did his best to get a few hours sleep, huddled in the same small foxhole, half covered with brush. The next day, the attack order for the regiment arrived.

On July 20, 1918, a 10-minute barrage of artillery preceded the attack. The 3rd Battalion of the 102nd "jumped off" at 3 p.m. and Philip, John and the other members of Company H, 2nd Battalion followed in support at 1,000 meters. The attack moved in the direction of Bouresches Wood and La Gonetrie Farm. The sky was overcast and smoke from the shelling clouded the men's view as they made their way across the wheatfield. At 5 p.m., the 3rd Battalion gathered again on the eastern side of the wood and the 2nd Battalion continued to follow in support. Philip had finally seen the true face of war. There was nothing glorious or glamorous about it. The images and stench of death were all about him, but he was able to balance their affect with the steadfast ideal that he was fighting for a just cause. That evening, with full knowledge that the regiment would be moving again before dawn, he did his best to get some rest.

On July 21, 1918 at 5 a.m., the 102nd was in attack formation. The objective was the railroad line east of Soissons Road and Bezuet. Private Philip Edwards and the 2nd Battalion followed in support. Corporal John Simmons and a few of the other soldiers were ordered to a different part of the field and, as a result, he and Philip would be separated in the engagement. As Philip made his way across open ground, he was wary of the intermittent shelling. As he looked to the east, he noticed a break in the clouds. A ray of sun shone through and seemed to dance in the field beside him. In the midst of battle, at this moment, he felt a strange sense of peace. Philip thought of home and how badly he wanted to make it back to see his parents and propose to Ella. He grinned as he pictured Ella's eight-year-old sister Doris. What would she think if he and Ella were married? Doris was so shy and always hid when Philip came to visit. He thought she would be pleased at the prospect of having another older brother. And then, in an instant, all went dark.

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