In the hope these would travel more quickly, they mailed the package to a captain at the military post Caserne Feraudy in Metz.

While additional materials were being accumulated back in Kansas, more delays occurred in New York. AAtF would repack items to get as much in a ship as was possible. Then they would wait for a suitable vessel. So Morganville's first shipment was still in New York when on November 10, the dockworkers went on strike, upset with overtime pay issues.

Earlier in November, Todd left New York for Europe to visit some of the cities Operation Democracy had paired with American sisters. The following is the part of that report concerning Morganville and Fèves:

Late one cold afternoon in early December in company with two officials of Entr'Aide Francaise, I drove up the steep and stony road that leads through the plum orchards to Fèves. Along the single winding street, the houses were dark and lifeless, some still showing the effects of American artillery fire. The schoolhouse, as we approached it, was ablaze with light, however, and a delegation waited on the steps to greet us. Once inside, I discovered why the rest of the town was deserted. Everyone in Fèves was at the schoolhouse. Morganville hadn't been forgotten.

The school house in Fèves was actually just part of a building that also served as the Torlotting home and the mayor's office. At the far right is Mayor Auguste Berne. Schoolmaster Henri Torlotting is at the right of the students. The young boy at the far right in the front row is Henri's nephew Gérard Torlotting. His future wife, Solange Parisot, is at the far left in the front row. On December 29, 2013, 64 years after this picture was taken, Gérard and Solange were the first people from Fèves to visit Morganville. Both were aid recipients.

The whole French press was there ... they made speeches. I made a speech in my awful French. When the kids sang "Sur le Pont," I wept like a baby. I toasted Morganville with glass after glass of Mirabelle - with the Maire [mayor], the padre [priest], etc. I saw the cows, sat in the 16th century cathedral, had supper in a Lorraine kitchen, gave candy to every child in Fèves, received dozens of signed photographs for the people of Morganville. There are no illiterate peasants there. They are good, intelligent farmers, thrilled about Morganville, deeply grateful, endlessly curious, kindly.

After the songs of the school children, speeches by the Mayor and the Cure [priest], and the official presentation to me as a representative of Morganville, of dozens of letters, photographs and other tokens of Fèves' gratitude, I went off with the beaming Mayor and the schoolmaster for a quiet talk in the kitchen of the Mayor's damp, unheated house. There I asked the question which had disturbed me all through those moving ceremonies at the schoolhouse. "Why," I asked, "since there is obviously so much gratitude and affection for Morganville here in Fèves, haven't you told them so?"

The two men were silent for a moment, and I felt perhaps I had been too abrupt. The Schoolmaster was the first to speak.

"We are desolated [sorry] about it," he said in his (for me) difficult French, "but now that we understand, we will do our part."

The Mayor nodded vigorously and waited for the Schoolmaster to continue.

"Fèves has been deeply touched from the beginning," the Schoolmaster went on. "It is, however, a most difficult and delicate thing. It is the season of Christmas, you know, and I was afraid my pupils might ask for things. We must never be beggars here in Fèves."

The Schoolmaster looked up at the Mayor who was following every word and weighing it solemnly.

"As for our Mayor, he is a distinguished man, but he is also a simple farmer, and words to fit such an occasion as this are most difficult for him to find. One has great fear of being too forward ... America has already done so much. We read of Morganville's dust storms, their difficult past, of the boys from Morganville who died in the Pacific, and here in France. They speak with great eloquence of these things. We have, perhaps, not enough eloquence. After today, however, we will write - for we have a great deal in our hearts to say."

It was a case of shyness and pride. Actually, I had guessed it before they told me, for I had watched the school children earlier that day as my box of American candy was passed among them. Solemnly, delicately, each had taken one piece and waited until the last child had been served. Then, with the same sober gesture, they had placed the candy in their ragged pockets to be eaten later or shared at home. There must be no unseemly haste. It must be done gracefully, for this was precious. It was from America, and all part of a very important moment. The candy meant friendship - not charity. And friendship was a solemn thing.

When I returned to the hotel, I couldn't sleep at all, because of the deep responsibility we, and Morganville, had incurred. They (in Fèves) understood Morganville, and the "Message to Fèves." But, like me, they couldn't quite say what they felt. It will take time, and very great patience on the part of Morganville. For instance, there is only one person there who writes English, and he is afraid it will be awkward, that he might say the wrong thing.

The article refers to Todd as Mr. Thotte. The reporter had asked to make this change. Todd's name, spoken with the usual European pronunciation, would sound the same as the German word "tod." Tod translates as death and was associated with the German Totenkopf soldiers who were noted for being particularly brutal. The reporter wanted to avoid any connection.

In a later interview, Todd added some additional details not included in his more official account of what transpired during his trip to the little village on the hillside west of the Moselle.

Outside the tiny school, there were many bicycles and many people waiting for me. Inside were the American and French flags and a large sign, "Vive Morganville." ... The schoolmaster said Fèves would always think of Morganville as its own sister across the ocean.

About mid-December, Carson received a letter from Todd, who was in Geneva, Switzerland. That letter would serve to introduce the people the Morganville committee would be working with.

I just ran across something in my notes which you should have. Namely, the names of the bright people in Fèves with whom you should discuss things.

First, there is Henri Torlotting, the school teacher. A young, fine fellow with great understanding. You can talk to him frankly. Tell him that Todd will never forget the singing of those kids of his.

Second, Louis Holveck, the Curé. A priest, of course, but no Baptist ever need resent it. Also very young and very wise. Remind him of Todd's trip to the "Bibliotheque" and how much I loved his beautiful old church.

Finally Auguste Berne, Le Maire. He is exactly what a French Mayor should be, but don't count on too much from him beyond good will. Here again, you can refer to my drinking habits, and assure him that his Mirabelle was the best I ever had. (I realize my comments are making it impossible to show my letters to fellow Kansans, but one obviously can't drink French water.)