Submitter’s note: The following is a compilation of several stories, including ones by Hank Swain and Charles Robertson. The most recent was dated 1985.
World War I, the so-called “war to end all wars,” interrupted the tranquil life of a shy Brown County boy, Clarence Aynes.
Clarence was born and reared in a log cabin now in Brown County State Park. It is known as the Aynes House and is the getaway for the governor of Indiana.
Like all promising Brown County youths of the time, the field of education beckoned, and Clarence entered Indiana University, later to emerge with a license to teach elementary to high school levels. Then, the United States entered the war. It was the latter half of 1917. Clarence was about 20 years old, and along with many other Brown County boys, he enlisted.
After training, Clarence shipped out from Camp Merril, N.J. He recalled life on board the troop ship as rough, overcrowded; many had to bunk right on deck or anywhere they could find.
Arriving in France, Clarence’s outfit was dispersed. Wild thoughts bordering on dismay went through his head as he found everyone else assigned and dismissed, and he was left standing alone, rejected, he thought. Why, why was he so useless? No one wanted him. What will they think back home?
Clarence soon found out he had been selected for a special assignment on the staff of General Black Jack Pershing. Clarence was to serve for several months on a dangerous unit as a special agent, delivering coded messages that, when intercepted by the enemy, couldn’t be understood.
It took him three months to master the code. Generally, the message was carried in his boot. It was understood that a courier’s span on this assignment was short. The messages were usually delivered at night under cover of darkness from the general’s headquarters 15 miles behind the front.
Clarence recalls that General Pershing was about 50 years of age then. At first, Clarence stood in awe of him, expecting Pershing to be cool and demanding. But, no; the general was warm and understanding and very much concerned for the lives and safety of his boys.
On or about Clarence’s 30th consecutive courier trip, an incident he will never forget occurred. Nearing the front lines, he and a buddy were stopped by a fallen tree. A voice, in broken English with a heavy German accent, barked, Halt! Dismount!” (They did.) “Dis-arm!” (They threw down their guns) “Dis-robe!” (They both refused.)
Clarence recalled, “with a bayonet pressed against my belly, I knew I was a dead man.”
At the refusal to undress and be searched, the German soldier, one hand off his rifle, reached for a whistle tied around his neck to call for help. Quick as a wink, Clarence grabbed the rifle barrel, twisted it from the soldier’s grasp, and slammed the stock into his groin. “He fell like a stuck hog over an embankment and didn’t move. I hope I didn’t kill him, but we didn’t wait around to see,” Clarence related.
He didn’t intend to report the incident, but his buddy did. General Pershing’s response to Clarence: “Son, you have a 10-day leave coming. Get on a train and see Europe.” Clarence explained he didn’t have the money because he sent all his pay home to his mother to feed and help the family after his father died. To this, General Pershing replied, “I’ve got plenty of money. Here, take this. I don’t want to see you around here for 10 days.”
Clarence spent the first day in France, and two days in London, then to Belgium and all over Europe. When he returned, he was given a new assignment.
The Aynes place atop Schooner Ridge on State Road 46 west is probably the most-photographed place in Brown County, if not the state of Indiana.
Clarence, for years, ran the Lake View Gift Shop, so named because when Lake Ogle was formed in Brown County State Park, it could be seen from the Aynes place. Clarence taught school for a while before and after the war. He then went into civil service, carrying the mail for 37 years, first with horses, then from a Model T, Model A and later cars.
Known everywhere as a friend and very sociable, it wasn’t unusual for Clarence to find a note in a mailbox, saying, “I had to leave early, Clarence. Would you turn out my chickens and throw some corn to my hogs?”
Clarence retired from civil service, but he couldn’t quit. Every morning, at the Brown County Community Care Center, he made his rounds. “Mailman,” he called.
Personal note: Clarence Aynes was our mail carrier for many years out here on what was R.R. 2 in those days. When Mr. Aynes retired, Mr. Keith Matlock carried our mail for many years until he retired. Things nowdays are not as they once were, when we knew our mail carrier and we knew the Nashville postmaster.
— Submitted by Pauline Hoover, Brown County Historical Society
