An American on the Western Front: The First World War Letters of Arthur Clifford Kimber, 1917-18

by Patrick Gregory, Elizabeth Nurser

Fired by idealism, the young student Arthur Clifford Kimber initially acted as a volunteer ambulance driver in order to get to the front quickly. In a gripping first-hand account of what he witnessed and who he met on his way to war and on the front, including poignant descriptions of wartime Britain and memorable encounters with former president Theodore Roosevelt and Hollywood actress Lillian Gish, it details Kimber’s frustration as he seeks an active role—enrolling within months in the fledgling U.S. Air Force—and follows his hopes and dreams for what lies after the war. But, after throwing himself into service and taking part in dogfights against "the Boche," he died just a few weeks before the end of the war, on the opening day of the Meuse-Argonne offensive. Kimber was one of the first Americans onto the front line and, tragically, was one of the last Americans to be buried. Here, his revelatory letters are published for the first time, along with his sketches.

Genres: History

352 pages, Hardcover

Published April 1, 2017

About the author

Patrick wrote and edited An American on the Western Front together with Elizabeth Nurser, who is Arthur Clifford Kimber’s niece. Most of Patrick’s professional life has been spent in journalism, happily locked away for nearly 30 years of it inside the BBC. As a programme producer he covered world events such as the fall of the Berlin Wall and realigning of eastern Europe, the First Gulf War and the Balkans War. He then focused on UK politics as a news editor at Westminster, working his way up to becoming Managing Editor of the BBC’s Political Programmes department. He also produced a number of politics and history documentaries for BBC Radio 4 and BBC World Service on the way.

Since leaving in 2013 – and over and above his work on An American on the Western Front – he has also turned his hand to journalism tuition aimed at democracy-strengthening in the Asia-Pacific area, in cooperation with the United Nations Development Programme and UK High Commissions in the region.

Away from his keyboard (embarrassingly he’s still a two-fingered typist after all these years) his happiest times are spent with friends and family, cooking, reading, watching his beloved Manchester United Football Club and cycling. Though he wishes to stress that in terms of cycling, he likes to avoid hills. Give him long and flat distances and he’s very happy.

Meanwhile, his co-author Elizabeth. Born in California, Elizabeth came to Britain as a Fulbright History scholar at Cambridge in the 1950s, where she settled with her husband and growing family. She went on to become a copy editor for Cambridge University Press and an editor with both Melbourne University Press and Faber & Faber, before establishing her own desktop publishing business in the UK specialising in local history. She is the co-editor, with J.A. La Nauze, of Walter Murdoch and Alfred Deakin on Books and Men: Letters and Comments, 1900-1918. Rather happily for Patrick, Elizabeth is his mother-in-law.

Reviews

[Andy Moreton · Rating 5 out of 5]

This the story of a young Californian, Clifford Kimber, a Stanford University student who signed up soon after the United States declared war in the spring of 1917.

Clifford leaves his home in Palo Alto to become a volunteer ambulance driver in the 2nd Stanford Unit, and in his safe keeping is the first official American flag to go to the Western Front.

After a journey across the States during which he collects a personal good luck note from his hero, Theodore Roosevelt, he sets sail from New York on the steamship, St Louis, to arrive at the Front via London and Paris. On board, he has a rather gauche encounter with the silent movie star, Lillian Gish.

The many letters home to his mother and two brothers are searingly honest and surprisingly detailed, with sketches, maps and photographs. It's clear that Clifford sees them as an archive or memoir to be worked on after his return from the war; he's anxious they're kept safe.

We know from the outset that, sadly, he did not survive, so the letters in which he foresees his future with his brothers as successful chicken farmers are unbearably poignant:

'Personally, I sort of believe I have a guardian angel and that it will be the
other fellow that will get killed. You are going to see me home when this
awful war is over and we shall have many happy years together and shall
have a most wonderful home of four, and a great time on the farm.'

The early letters betray Clifford's annoyance at perceived injustices and slights. He rails against pacifists, shirkers, swearers and roisterers. He was, clearly, not an easy companion, with his self-confessed 'disagreeable conceit'. One of the letters explains how his close friend and fellow Stanford student, Alan Nichols, took him aside gently to point out his flaws, and he's a much more amenable team-player from then on.

Clifford's dream is to move from his ambulance duties to train as a pilot. His enthusiasm had been fired years before: when he was 12, he had been among the crowd in France when Wilbur Wright took an experimental flight over a racecourse south of Le Mans.

After an agonisingly long wait, he's accepted at flying school. The letters about his training and subsequent experiences as a fighter pilot offer a truly remarkable and colourful insight into the perilous existence of those young pioneers in the skies above France:

'I watched my tail like a cat and saw the enemy come on ... No sooner would
I avoid one than another was firing at me. Rat-tat-tat-tat. What a sound
... I'll bet a hundred bullets came within six inches of my body ... I didn't
even have a chance to fire a shot.'

Throughout the narrative, the Kimber watchword is 'duty' and the frequent set-backs are invariably shrugged off as 'C'est la guerre.' The death in combat of his friend and confidant,
Alan Nichols, shakes his world, but his dedication is unwavering:

'This sad news does not make me hesitate or feel timid about going to
the lines. On the contrary, it makes me yearn to be there. Don't worry
about me. "To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late."
What if I am killed? Could any form of death be more glorious?'

Clifford Kimber was killed in action on September 26 1918 - a few weeks before the end of the war. The fact that his story is available now for all to see is a tribute to the loving and careful preservation of his archive by his family, particularly his niece, Elizabeth Nurser. She and her son-in-law, Patrick Gregory, a former senior BBC journalist, have skilfully interwoven the letters with context and background. It's a thoroughly enjoyable read: a story both illuminating and intensely moving.