My Days in France by George O. Vonland - May 1918 - February 1919
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[front cover] MY DAYS IN FRANCE BY GEORGE O. VONLAND
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To Reene’ my wartime Sweetheart. With gangs of love ‘n everything George.
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MY DAYS IN FRANCE BY GEORGE O. VONLAND. In writing this diary, I have stated events as I saw them, and as briefly as possible. I have made no attempt to be literary, and I have not avoided the expressions of army slang, in short I have stated my experiences in the vernacular of the A.E.F.
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(A) IN MEMORY OF MY COMRADES KILLED IN ACTION. MEMBERS OF CO. H. 138th INF. CORPORAL ARTHUR WILLIAMS. CORPORAL STINSON GODDARD. CORPORAL HARRIS J. ZEIGLER. CORPORAL HAROLD H. SIEKMAN. PRIVATE CLARENCE LIGHT. PRIVATE MARTIN SANDERS. PRIVATE JOHN CONWAY. PRIVATE PETE SEMEVOLAS. PRIVATE AUGUST C. MELTNER. PRIVATE CLARENCE M. WALKER. PRIVATE WILLIAM J. O’CONNEL. PRIVATE DAVID B. BARBEE. PRIVATE MAY G. LESSLEY. PRIVATE JOHN Mc CARTY. PRIVATE LEON PATTAROZZI. PRIVATE WILLIAM A. FROMMELT.
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(B) KEY TO EXPRESSIONS, ABBREVIATIONS, AND TRANSLATIONS OF FRENCH WORDS. ABRIS: French for dugout. ALBATROSS: Type of German scout plane. BOBBIE: English police officer. BOSCHE: German soldier. BIOS du GRAND BEC: BOURVILLES: A village. BOYOU de GRATZ: The Gratz trench. BOYOU de RESIGNAL: The Ressignal trench, BOYOU de UNIQUES: The unique trench. C’EST la GUERRE: “That is war”. ERFS (Ouefs) Eggs. FLYING-PIG: A fat oval shaped trench-mortar shell, used by the Germans, has wings, and long tail, giving it the appearance of a flying-pig. FRITZ: GERMAN Soldier. GOLD FISH: Canned salmon: HOMMES 40, CHEVAUX 8: A sign on all French box cars, meaning it will hold forty men, or eight horses. HEAD&ACHE STICK: A short stick weighted in one end with lead, a valuable patrol weapon, and a good persuader. HUNS: Germans. IRON-APPLES: Iron hand grenades, or bombs. Iron-RATIONS: Usually consists of a can of corn beef, and a package of hard tack, it isn’t supposed to be eaten unless the enemy has us surrounded and cut offf from a food supply. KAMERAD: A German word, meaning that the speaker is tired of war. M: Meter, M.M. Milimeter.
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(C) MOULIN VARRENES: NO COMPREE: “I do not understand.” PONT de QUATRE ENFANTS: POMS (Pom de terres) Potatoes. P.P. (Petite poste) Meaning little post, and used by the French to denote a small post in a strong-point. SAUSAGE: An observation baloon. SQUARE-HEAD: German. SHO-SHO (Chauchet) A type of French automatic riffle, that has a kick of a missouri mule, and hard to hold on a target. T.M. Trench-mortor. VIN ROUGE: Red wine. VIN BLANC: White wine.
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Photo. Gerhard Sisters Two St. Louis soldiers who have won the French war cross right, Sergt. George Oliver von Land; Left, Lieut. Oliver W. Spencer. Both are members of Company H, 138th Infantry.
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[page 1] MY DAYS IN FRANCE. Copied from the original May 1920. MAY 16 - 1918. Arrived at Liverpool England after an uneventful voyage. Impressed by the beautiful scene, portrayed in vivid colors, by the early sunlight of a beautiful day. Kenmore Gardens, across the harbor was a sight of rare beauty, after fourteen days on the water. We marched to a railroad station, amid a cheering populace, guided by several mounted “bobies”. We finally arrived at the station, our train arriving later-much later. Its strange construction, and dimunitive size, was the basis of many humorous remarks from the assembled doughboys. Rushing through the country we passed many quaint scenes, recalling vague lines of almost forgotten English history. After a trip that was most to short, we arrived at Winchester, one of the largest Training camps in England. We spend the next few hours removing the stains of steerage travel from our equipment. MAY 17. The boys are rather chumy with the English tommies, and as I went into town I saw many of
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[page 2] them to-gether. the cafes were crowded, despite the fact that our outfit had not been payed for several months. It did not seem to have any effect on the steady flow of ale however, every one was laughing and singing, while just a scant hundred miles to the east, a grim struggle was going on. Saw Pat and Iron in a circle, surrounded by agroup of excited tommies. Iron was saying, “We licked you in [1776] and if you want some more lets start right here.” we finally arrived at a peaceful solution of the difficulty, and I knew from then on that we would have trouble with our English allies. They seemed to think that we were coming over too late, and we had an attitude of “show us this war you have been fooling with so long and watch us end it for you. It caused friction on both sides, and we did not think much of our British allies, and doubtless they thought the same of us. Life as a whole is rather easy here, and the civilian population thinks highly of us, as I had to turn down two dinner engagements to fill a third. The town of Winchester is a typical English village, with narrow winding streets, ancient stone buildings covered with a thick growth of moss.
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[page 3] MAY 18. Leaving for France tomorrow, considered trained troops and due to take our place in the line. The sooner the better, am anxious to find out the sensations of battle. another train ride and more drlightful scenery, detrain near the docks, and later learn that we are in Southampton. Saw the [RMS Olympic] in dry dock, a monstrous ship, bent her nose a trifle, raming a submarine, during her last trip to New York, some ship. Chuck and Whitey in trouble with a “bobie” about getting a meal without a government ticket. It “cawnt” be done “old topper”. Whitey makes a pert remark about the “blooming” country, which offends the “bobies” dignity, and a “bobie” in my opinion is the most dignified person in the world. Mack observed on Lister walk, a queen on each arm. Gave me the high sign but I got out of range just in time. Some speed to the kid, he will get over it though. T 5 P.M. ON board the Nervina a filthy looking scow, manned by an equally filthy looking crew of East Indians. Carrying cows and soldiers, mostly cows, all on the same deck. I lost an arguement with several cows as to who shall have the only
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[page 4] available sleeping space, so I goes on deck. The English channel is supposed to be infested with subs, Stayed awake all night, but did not see any. MAY 19. Arrived at Le Havre France. Surprised to see women doing all the heavy work, driving coal wagons and other such work. The shortage of men is certainly noticeable here. A sweltering day, and our ninety pounds of equipment felt like a ton. WE hiked up the steepest hill I ever met in my life. Arrived at “Rest” camp #2. Another joke of the war are these “rest” camps, the only rest camp known to the army is the cemetry Unloaded all our surplus equipment, thank goodness-as I had a constant dread of carrying all that weight from one end of France to the other. Entrain at 2 P.M. with what our British friends call fighting equipment. Looks like quick action now. Our wheezing engine came to a painful stop and we unload. Too dark to do anything, so we make camp along side the track, and proceed to annihilate our iron rations, We have been threatened with every thing but death is we ate our iron rations, unless we were starving. We eased our conscience by telling each other
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[page 5] each other that we were starving, we felt that way at least. MAY 20. Awoke to find ourselves in Eu, a strange name and a strange place. Met by a Scottish drum and bag pipe corps, Marched to another “rest” camp as the scots played “Garry Owen”. We were getting music instead of breakfast, but did not mind as it was a very good temporary stimulant. Arriving at camp an English colonel gives us a talk, hungry enough to eat the leather straps off my pack, The colonel tells us what a hard struggle this war was, and ends up by saying, “Well we have held the hun now it is up to you” Seem to expect a lot from us, but we know that we can do it, despite the fact that our spirits are rather low at this time, because of no eats, really believe that we could whip the world if we had a feed before starting. Breakfast finally came in the form of boiled “gold fish” but we were hungry and it tasted good. Started on the famous march that earned us the name “The touring club of France Lay down at the side of the road at dark, and slept. WE certainly earned the sleep we got that night, we slept just as sound on that hard
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[page 6] roadside as we did in our own beds a little over a year ago-so much for military training. MAY 21. Started the grind again at five A.M. The various scenery took our minds off the hike and things progressed nicely. MAY 22. Still hiking, must have walked a million miles, had no idea that France was so large. Steady grind all day, sleeping at the road-side at night. MAY 23. Still at it GRIND, GRIND, GRIND. Too tired to write. MAY 24. Arrived in the village of Embreville, famous for its “vin rouge” and air raids. Received the joyfull news that we were to billet here My platoon assigned to billet #27 I found it an old cow barn, long since abandoned by respectable cows and now used by soldiers. It was graciously sprinkled with hay. Sgt. Michenfelter and I, Arranged a bed by covering a portion of straw with our canvas shelter halves. In a British sector here, and under the British system of rationing-worse luck. Under the British system we get nothing but stew and tea.
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[page 7] and a concoction called lime juice. You are supposed to mix the lime juice with water and sugar, and as we rarely got sugar the lime juice was worthless. And who in ever heard of tea for breakfast. Its all wrong AL, Here hoping that we get brigaded with the French or have our own rations. MAY 25. We were just behind Amiens and in reserve. The Germans were making every effort to take the channel ports, and was at present engaged at bombarding Amiens. There is a constant roaring rumble in the distance as the battle raged. Expect to be called any hour, and have orders to have the platoon ready to march in five minutes notice. We decided to get rid of our money before moving up. MAY 26. Scouted around the village succeeded in spending all my money, having various assortment of canned goods in my possession, while Chuck and Mack brought up the rear with 24 quarts of rare old champagne. Invited our guests to the affair, and it was a howling success. We discussed the scrap and each
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[page 8] pledged to look after the affairs of the other, should he “push up daisies” We were at the heighth of our merriment, just about mid-night, when the sharp notes of the bugle cut through the stilly night air, blowing “call to arms”, With a final handshake and good-bye, we rushed to our respective platoons. Rumored that the British line had broke, and that our division was to fill the gap. We hiked till day break, the roaring of the guns getting louder each minute. Suddenly the roar grew fainter, and at nine o’clock we received the news that the British line had held. Our chance to save a critical situation had passed, so we entrained in our old friends “Hommes 40 Chvaux 8” and proceeded to another part of the line, where our services were needed. And we left about eight quarts of wine back at Embreville - “C’est la guerre” May 27. Passed through Versailles on the outskirts of Paris, but proceeded on our journey without a pause. Some beautiful scenery witnessed from our side door pulman. MAY 28. Unloaded at some little town I do not know its name, and started to hike. After a short and pleasant hike we came to Donoux, a small
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[page 9] village, but it had fairly good billets Became aquainted with Lieut. VILLIUX of the French blue devils. That boy is certainly decorated. my opinion is that he will have to wear one coat, and carry another under his arm in order to display all his medals. He can speak a little English, so I agree to teach him English, and he will teach me French. Forty miles from the lines, looks like we will never see action. MAY 29. Put the platoon through some new combat formations all morning Chuck found a bomb and began to experiment with it. It began to smoke and he dropped it, we started out. I dove out the window, and before I could arise, Mack, Whitey, Iron, Pat, and Chuck landed on soft portions of my anotomy in quick succession. The bomb exploded and almost blew our billet off the map. My improvised office was a wreck. No more fooling with innocent looking bombs around me. May 30. A sort of an anniversary with me, got sentimental and wrote a letter. Villiux droped in and we discussed the war, and the part America was going to play in it.. Getting tired of this inaction, told Villoux about it. He said not to be so eager as I would get enough of it before
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[page 10] long. Maybe so, but I am anxious to see what it is like. MAY 31. Received mail from the states spent the morning answering it. The old man sends an orderly for me. An order in transfering me to the aviation school. Eager to go but the old duke talks me out of the notion. A chance to become an aviator shot, destiny has me booked for a doughboy so it seems. JUNE 1. Still no action, must be booked for the S.O.S. instead of a combat division. A negro outfit came through, stopped in town to cook dinner. After the meal their band played a few pieces. Two inquisitive hun planes came over - exit the band. Expect an air raid to night, anything welcome to relieve the monotony. 10:30 P.M. The huns came over their motors plainly heard, but they passed over bound for bigger game than Donoux. JUNE 2. Iron in trouble down at the “vin blanc” joint, he did not like the looks of a certain clock in the cafe, so he put a couple of 45’s in it. The springs flew all over the place, and the boys cleared out
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[page 11] leaving Iron in sole psession of “cafe du Nationale”. We finally fixed it up with the proprietor, with a lot of talk and twenty-five francs. JUNE 3. Took a ride down to Marveil. Lucky enough to get a bar of choclate. Blew a tire on the way back, and brough the sunbeam home on the rim. The colonels car too,. Read a St. Louis paper two months old but it was news from the old home town. June 4. A chance for action at last rumored that we are to go up to the line soon. 12 noon. We will roll packs and leave at 2 P.M. Got on trucks and rode several hours, through the mountainous section of Alsace. A beautiful country, one can hardly blame the French for desiring to regain this wonderful place. Mack and Iron look at the hills making remarks that some one made an error, by sending us motor trucks as we usually had to hike up such hills as these. Came to a little village way down in the valley, called [Husseren-Wesserling], and inhabitated by German people. Surprised to hear German spoken, but the people were friendly, and champagne was only four francs a bottle, so every body was happy.
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[page 12] We were the first American troops in this part of the country, and of course enjoyed low prices for a while. Until the people got the idea we were millionaires, then prices went up as they usually do. JUNE 5. Discover that the people are for France, and the allies. Complain of ill treatment by the huns. One women told us the Germans took her two sons when they retreated through here, she has never heard from them since. Only ten miles from the trenches by air line, but their are several mountains to be crossed, and am thinking of an awful hike that will undoubtably take place soon. But anything to get up there. JUNE 6. Day uneventful spent in writing letters, and studying trench war-fare. June 7. A hun plane flew over and back again, with a French plane right after him. Both had their machine guns poping, but no hits seemed to be regestered by either side. Found a place that had “erfs” beef steak and “pom de terres”. Have not had an American smoke in months so it seems. Would give a months pay for a pack of “chesterfields.
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[page 13] JUNE 8. Went down to Thann in the sunbeam, a fairly big town, decorated with the French tri-color. Came back at noon. Tony fell down the steps, and cracked his head, Hughes poured a bottle of “vin rouge” on him, as he had fainted and no water was handy. The “loot” came along, smelled the wine, and “bawled” Toney for being drunk. Toney called upon all the Italian saints available, to witness the fact that he was not drunk. JUNE 9. Took the foreign legion out to drill. My platoon called the foreign legion because of its personale. I have Murphy and Nolan as true representatives of old Erin. Edwards and Jones of Welch parentage. Petrovia and and Pattarozzi of sunny Italy, Semovolos from Greece. Pazzos from Russia. Johanson from [Sweden]. Le Fort of France, and ending up with many other nationalities including Michenfelter, Schultze, and myself, I challenge any platoon in the world to show a “melting pot” with a wider range of ingrediants than mine. June 10. Borrowed the sunbeam and took a trip through the mountains Some scenery. Only wish the censor permitted a kodak. Stopped at a
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[page 14] farmhouse for dinner. Urban’s knowledge of German enabled us to get a real meal. The old man showed us a French flag he had hidden away while the Germans had occupied this territory. He said it was the happiest day of his life, when the French drove the huns out and he displayed the flag that portrayed his true sentiments. Back to camp at dusk after a very enjoyable day. JUNE 11. Raining and getting cold looks like snow, and June, can you beat it? No news of our going up the line, but hope to leave soon. Took the gang out for physical exercises this after noon, they certainly need it. JUNE 12. Rumored that we go up tomorrow, but cannot get any definate statement from the old man. Wants to know why I am so anxious to get into a scrap. Told I wanted to see a scrap before the war ended, and that if we did not hit the line soon, we would be out of luck. He gives me the pleasant news that the war will last two more years. Can’t agree on that, expect to be home by Easter of next year. Heres hoping.
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[page 15] JUNE 13. Not superstitious, but unlucky from the start. Fell off a horse, some one called for water, Mack come running, and thrust a bottle in my face, said it was wine. I took a liberal drink - it was coal-oil. Went down to the river to wash clothes fell in, the tailor gave my best uniform to some one else, otherwise the day was uneventful. JUNE 14. Received a letter from the kids mother asking me to take care of the boy, will try, so I promised. I don’t see why the kid ever enlisted his service record has his age at 18 although the told me that he was only 16. Day dark and rainy, fine day for a murder. Mack, Urban andI slosh up the road to mothers, for a meal and a drop of cognac, we got both. JUNE 15. Order came to move up, going to the trenches to-night. At last after a weary wait, we are going into action. Day spent in gas mask inspection, and cleaning of fighting equippment. Leaving after dark. JUNE 16. 2:30 P.M. Just woke up and after eating a real meal, feel about normal, after last nights encounter with the vosges mountains. I have done a lot of
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[page 16] hiking in my military career, but last nights march was king of them all. There may be higher mountains but I hope I never see them. I’ve seen all the moonlight mountain scenery that I want to see in a long while. My bunch of roughnecks stood up well. Petrovia lost on the way. I do not know what they call this place, but it looks like the lost city. Right on top of a mountain peak, the few buildings shattered and wrecked by shell fire. My first sight of devasted France. JUNE 17. Chuck and I walk through the streets of the lost city. Various household goods scattered about by the bombardment. Have to keep under cover as the city can be plainly seen from the huns artillery observing post. We are living in the cellars of the wrecked houses, with plenty of rocks overhead to stop shells. We also have about twenty French artillerymen with us, who tell us that thehill just in the rear, is covered with French artillery. Haven’t heard any of it as yet. JUNE 18. A clear day the French soldats warn us to keep off the streets, as we can be observed by the
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[photograph of ruined building with caption: “THE LOST CITY.”]
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[page 17] “bosche” who is very liberal in putting over a barrage. 12:10 I grab my mess gear, and whistling a popular melody, I start up the steps of my dug-out. Bound for the kitchen, located in a cellar about two blocks down the street. I get about ten feet away from my “abris” and I hear a dull “plop” away off in the distance. And then a dull screeching sound, that gets louder and louder. I can’t imagine what it is so I stop to listen, then all of a sudden ZIT - WHANG, A pile of rocks and debris, about a hundred yards down the street travel skyward. I make a running dive for the abris knocking Mack down in the rush. Mack rolls in and slams the door, as a second explosion jars our little home. Urban who was sleeping peacefully through the excitement, is awakened as another salvo comes over. Our little cellar shakes and jars, like a truck on a rough road. Urbs wants to know if an earthquake is in progress. I try to pull the unconcerned stuff, and after a drag on a frog cigarette, that nearly chokes me I casually remark, “ O no the bosche are just sending over a few shells. Well things quiet down, and after consulting the good ingersoll, discover that it is 12:45 Decide to
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[page 18] go to dinner. Mack, urban, and I start, thats all we do-is start. We get about fifty feet from our dug out, we hear that screech again and make another dive for that dug-out. A little two by three door was not made for three men to go through at one time - and I was not the last man in either. We finaaly get inside and talk it over It seems as if the bosche observer has his telescope pointed right at our door, and is watching our movements rather closely. Mack decides that he is’nt hungry. Urbs and I figure to beat the bosche observer. We figure that when he sees us he telephones his artillery. It will take him at least one minute to do this and at least another minute for the battery to fire, Giving us a two minutes start. Now our kitchen is two blocks away, approximately two hundred yards. We open the door and get ready for a flying start. Mack holds the watch, he is going to see how long it take the shell to come over after we leave. We will then know how fast to travel at supper time. We make the start and travel the first block without event. I begin to think, that we are kidding our selves by believing
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[page 19] that we are observed. Why would they waste a shell on two men, when the chances were so small for scoring a hit. It all seemed ridiculous, and I began to breath easier. Then it came I was in the lead by a slight foot, and going strong. I fell, and of course Urbs fell over me. we rolled up close to a stone wall wondering where it was going to land. It exploded in our rear, and with a sigh of relief, we made the remaining hundred yards in fractions. The cooks kid us for being in such a hurry, but we notice that they are always close to their dug-out. We stayed at the kitchen till dark taking no chances on a sharp-shooter that uses three inch shells. JUNE 19. Mack built a camouflaged tunnel last night. It leads from our door to a pile of rocks, from there we travel down a ditch, then follow a stone wall, after coming to the end of the wall we make a dash for the kitchen, much to the amusement of the cooks. It works fine. Fritz now consoles him self by shelling other small parties, or putting over a general bombardment according to his mood. A humorous chap is Fritz. Wish our artillery was backing us up, there would be
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[page 20] an answer to fritzs shells. Thefrogs seem to be afraid to waste a few shells. JUNE 20. Going up to the trenches to-morrow night, heres hoping for revenge. Day quiet, uneventful, except for aerial activities. 7P.M. Fritz opens up and gives us a touch of high life with a half hours bombardment. Safely tucked away in our little dugouts, as we laugh at fritzs attempt to annihilate us. The din of crashing shells is terrific, but the boys don’t seem to mind, as they are amusing themselves by betting as to whether the kitchen will be able to put out, after this is over. JUNE 21. A fine day, the sun shinning brightly. A rim of clouds surround our peak just below us, cutting off our view of the battle torn valley, the scene of the 1914 advance. Getting things fixed up for a tour of trench duty. 7:30P.M. Started hiking the final two miles tha would bring us to the line. As we get closer various lights go soaring into the air. Our French are plainly worried, as the lights are used for artillery signals. They have an idea that the enemy has information as to our
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[page 21] coming, and expect a bombardment at any minute. The frog guides rush up an down our line making it as plain as possible that we are to scatter out in case of artillery fire. I tell the frog to stop wasteing breath as this gang doesn’t need any instructions as to what to do in case of artillery fire. I know that they wont stand in the middle of the road and watch shells breaking around them. We had already taken “artillery formation” that is - A squad of eight men then a fifty yard interval then another squad, and so on. If a shell hits the road it isn’t apt to wipe out more than eight men. We finally arrive at the trenches without mishap, and are heartily welcomed by the frogs holding down that part of the line. Get my gang into dugouts and the sector guard posted, without disturbing the enemy. The frogs are going to stay with us a couple of days, until we learn the final word in trench war-fare. We are located on a hill, so is fritz, each sharing half. Don’t think the hill is big enough for the both of us, somebody ought to get chased off. Heavy artillery action going on to our left. Flares and rockets going up at intervals, some on is plainly catching hell.
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[page 22] JUNE 22. Arose early, surprised that the air isn’t full of bullets, gas, and shells as I expected. The French sergeant takes me around explaining the details. I do not know what he is talking about, but I guess it is all right. Anxious to see the German lines. The Frenchman nearly has heart failure as i poke my head over the top (a foolish thing to do) A bosche sniper had this area well covered, and I ducked as he zipped one over. I will use a periscope after this. Gee they play rough up here. Something doing every minute, Looking over an auto-rifle post, Fritz sent over a shower of rifle-grenades. His range is rotten they land in our wire, alot of noise but no damage done. Go into an observation post, an iron cage set up in the trench, having a small slit in it, on the enemy side. The whole thing is then covered with mud, and is very difficult for the enemy to detect. Can get an excellent view of the enemy positions here. The frog Sgt. points out various objects in the enemies line. Dont know what he means, but suppose he is pointing out suspected machine-gun nests. Saw a square-head ambling across a high spot in his trench. His head and shoulders plainly visible. What a target. I reach for “old reliable” and
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[page 23] am about to pull the trigger that certainly would have made one less German in this world, when the frog pushes my hand away exclaiming, “ Par bon”, I look at him in amazement and holler that it is a hell of a war when you can’t shoot at the enemy. But of course all he does is wave his arms and shrug his shoulders. As he don’t understand me. Learned later that this was a rest sector, and no firing unless necessary. Rest of day quiet. JUNE 23. Enemy opens up on our positions, under fire in the trenches for the first time, some sen sation Don’t seem like a rest sector to me Fritz must know that Americans are in the line. 9A.M. Bombardment ceases, trenches tore up a little, means work to-night building them up. Hope I see another Bosche, it will take more than a frog to keep me from firing. None of the boys hit. 5 P.M. Schultze makes a wild dash in to my dug-out yelling - “sergeant the the bosche - the bosche I thought they were attacking reaches for the tin hat and “old reliable” no such luck, Schultze finally gets his breath, and tells me that the bosche has put a sign up on their parapet. I go out for a look. The place must
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[page 24] be haunted. The sign, in perfect English print read, “WELCOME 35th : DIVISION”. All that worries me is how they knew we were here, sme spy system. 11:50P.M. Made trip around trenches, came to Roberts and Iron holding down the left auto-rifle post. They were busy peering out into no- mans- land. Whispered that they saw something moving, I looked and was of the same opinion. Told them to cut loose. The sho-sho spit fire and jumped all over the trench as Iron pulled the trigger. The frogs dash up and raise hell for shooting on a rest sector. I slip them the “no compre” gag and laugh in my sleeve. Will be glad when they leave and turn the sector over to us. No wonder the war is lasting so long, when they sit tight and look at each other. We will be over here ten years if this continues. JUNE 24. Stand to at dawn, every man at his post as the bosche usually attacks at dawn. He didn’t come over this morning, lucky for him that he didn’t. We make a sign in German, Schultze doing the writing. It read “ Come on over, you are always welcome” We are going to coax a scrap in this rest sector yet, even if they wont let us do the attacking. A few shells dropped close last night
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[page 25] JUNE 25. Pleasant news, no breakfast Fritz put a three inch shell in the kitchen wrecking it. One of the cooks wounded. 1:30 P.M. Dinner at last Rice, beef-stew and real coffee. Urbs, Ashley, myself and afew more of the boys decide to ear out in the trench, as our d ugout is rather small. The frogs condemn our plan, saying that it is dangerous. To show our utter contempt for the bosche, and to show the frogs how game, we are , we proceed to take dinner on the fire step. Zit-zit- whang bang, over comes a shower of shells, Ashley sat in the pan of rice, Urban kicked over the coffee, and I dropped the stew, as we made the rush for the dug-out. We will eat inside after ths 3P.M. Fritz sends over eight pigs in quicks succession. Looks like the fritzs are doing all the shooting here. Our artillery must be dreaming about the days that used to be back in old [St. Louis?] R 4:30 P.M. Our artillery finally gets into action, and send a few over for range. Their range is rotten they cut one short, and tear up about 25 feet of our wire. Benny Benson will hear about this also Gunner Davis. 5:30 P.M. An albatross comes over driven back by anti-aircraft fire. 8P.M. Fritz sends over a fewshells at our artillery
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[page 26] positions, meaning good-night. Polite Fellow that square-head. The hounds reply, two for one. Firing at intervals arguing for the last shot. 9:30 P.M. All quiet on the line, time for all good sgts; to be in bed. JUNE 26. Awoke at three A.M. by Pat, hell broke loose on our left. The sky all lit up by the flashes of the big guns. Star signals going up from the bosche positions. Can’t figure the dope ,must be a local attack, may and may not concern us, will have the boys ready and play it safe. I am certainly thankful that our sector isn’t catching all that artillery fire. 5:30 A.M. All quiet again, must have been a raid, going on to our left. The cooks snap out of their pipe-dream, and feed us hot cakes, syrup, rice and good coffee. The kitchen is now located in a dugout, forty foot under ground, absolutely bomb proof, and out of reach of the biggest iron foundry that fritz can send over. Good news, the frogs leave us to-night. Keep your head down now fritz, its all off, this will be no longer be a rest sector. The frogs will leave us at twelve. Vin rouge is flowing flowing freely, as the frogs are glad to get away from us. They claim that we are always taking to many chances, and coax -
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[page 27] ing trouble. The French sgt; is feeling rather good, as he has consumed a couple bottles of vin, and after he has finished singing Madelona, I ask him to take me out on a patrol. Nothing doing, not for a million francs, impossible. After much coaxing and pert remarks as to the sgts; bravery, he finaaly consents, but much against his will. It is agreed that we start at 9 P.M. Heres hoping that he is sober by that time. 9P.M. Three frgs and myself face and hands blackened, and armed with everything allowed by international law except a machine-gun, crawl silently over the top. There is anarrow winding path cut through our wire, we crawl through this and eventually find ourselves on no-mans- real estate. A flare goes up and we lay still, no-mans- land is covered with debris of all description rolls of tangled barb-wire, logs, unexploded shells of all sizes, bits of metal rags, and one shell hole after another, it being doubtful which is the largest. A flare goes up and, comes sizzling down near me, I thought it was going down my neck, and I rolled out of the way. Fritz saw me move, and opened up with a type-writer, he is shooting high, I roll over into a convienient shell hole,
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[page 28] and listen to the bullets crackle over my head. How I wish I were back in my trench. After awhile I come to the conclusion that I am alone. The frogs beat it, and for the life of me I could not imagine where that path in our wire was. Thought it over and decided to try it on my own, as fritz had stopped shooting. I crawled up to the wire, making as little noise as possible, because our own sentry might get nervous and shoot, if he heard me. I crawled along the wire for about twenty feet, but I could not feel the opening. Suddenly my heart stopped beating and my blood ran cold, as I felt an iron stake supporting the wire. Our stakes were made of wood, the Germans of iron. My direction were mixed, I had crawled toward the German lines. I changed directions fast, the air was freezing, but never the less I was prespiring. I finally found the path, answered our setrys sharp challenge, and rolled into our trench with a sigh of relief. I started out to find three certain frogs, my limited French vocabulary, prevented me expressing my sentiments as I wished to. I will soon be grey-haired if these thrills don’t cease. JUNE 27. The frogs are gone, and
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[page 29] things have picked up. The boys are celebrating, they can shoot all they wish now, with no one holler, “par bon” Auto-rifles are poping, and grenades are breaking all over the sector. Fritz is leary, doesn’t know what to make of the sudden activity, so he opens up with acouple of machine-guns. Doesn’t sound like a rest sector now. 9 A.M. Freight trains going over head, fritz is sprinkling heavy stuff on our back areas. Enemy sausage up south of south-east from p,p,l. Our batteries open up in answer to fritzs fire, it doesn’t concern us as it is all going over our heads. Pat reports green and white flares from Klienkoph all last night. Aviation active and artillery duels all day. 11:30 P.M. A mid-night frolic klaxon horns blowing, and other gas warnings making an aaful racket. The signals mean that the enemy is gassing our sector. Urban comes down out of upper berth no. 2, placing a A no.10 hobnailed shoe in my face. A wild scramble is going on for gas masks. Can’t find mine, stumble around in the , dark holding my breath till I thought my lungs would burst. Finnaly found it under the stove. Another lesson learned - keep friend gas-mask handy. False alarm - the sentry got a whiff of the ghost, and thought
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[page 30] that he had smelled gas. (NOTE) THE GHOST, named by Urban, is the decomposed body of a [German], hanging on the wire, about twenty yards out from our trench.) Wll have to go out some night and bury it, or move. JUNE 28. Fritz has been quiet all day, which means that he is up to some devilment. Always watch fritz when he is quiet. 7:30 P.M. My suspicions confirmed, After ashort, but heavy bombardment, fritz comes over to pay us avisit. The boys crouched in the door of their dugout, are out and have the trenches manned as soon as the bombardment ceased. What a slaughter it was, we let them get as far as our wire, and then poured it into them. Their line broke, and they retreated in confusion, I got the red flare up in good time and our artillery responded instantly. As they fled our artillery layed down a barrage, that was pretty to see. Iron, Roberts and company, at [petite poste 1] and Macks crack Italian team, on [petite poste 2] layed off a fixed fire barrage with their auto-rifles that was a pip. Harris gang of rifle grenadiers made it to their posts in good time, the ammunition report showed 247 V.B.s expended. Williams holding down center with the rifle-men also did neat work. Murphy
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[page 31] Wounded by a “potato masher” Riva hit by shell splinters, both of them areonly slightly hurt. I took a look through the periscope and counted seventeen hanging on our wire. The “ghost” has company now, foolish squareheads. Issued an order from the captian stating that the Germans would probally remove their dead tonight, and not to fire on them. Noises out front all night, they are probally removing the dead. JUNE 29; The Germans removed their dead during the night. They are keeping pretty quiet to-day, must be thinking it over. 3P.M. A shell hit near Pats post, tore up an awful hole, and almost buried Pat. Pat swears the shell was bigger than a flour barrel. We leave the line tonight and drop back to support, tough luck the support catches all the artillery fire. 9P.M. Took over support, the first and second platoon taking the line. JUNE 30: AS I expected bombarded all morning, shells for breakfast, shells for dinner, more shells for supper. It isn’t safe to venture outside the dug-out. Leave for rest billets tonight, can’t imagine why we are being
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[page 32] relieved so soon. Cap Boussat is our destination. JULY 1. In rest billets three kilos behind the lines. Wooden billets camouflaged with black paint, a beautiful target for the German artillery. We violate all rules of common sense, by going out to drill right under the nose of the enemies guns. Just ahill shielding us from observation. If a German plane flies over and sees us, we are gone. I aked the lieutenant if we had not solved all these problems at Fort Sill, He smiled and looked wise, but said nothing, ( a habit all loots have got) Asked the captain what the idea was, he told me to drop in at his dug-out after supper, and he would tip me off to some thing. On hand right after supper, and get the dope. No wonder we were relieved so soon, and no wonder that we were drilling undr the nose of the bosche artillery. The loot shows me an aerial photo, and after close examination, I recogniz our old trench positions we had just left. The engineers had dug shallow trenches, the exact reproduction of theaerial photo, showing our lines and the German lines. We are rehearsing attacking the German line. Looks as though we are going to repay fritz that
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[page 33] JULY 2: Still rehearsing. JULY 3. Still attacking the dummy trenches, nothing new to write about, every thing quiet back here, except an occassional shell that rarely does any damage. July 4. Dreary and raining, the most miserable fourth that I ever saw. We see enough firework every day, so we celebrate with vin instead. JULY 5: Our final rehearsal, every man knows the part he is to play, and just exactly the part of the line he is to attack. After the rehearsal the French colonel makes a speech, that sounds like this. “ Tomorrow you will attack ze bosche, our troops were given the mission that you are to undertake but they failed. Not because they were not brave men, but because they only went as far as the enemies front line. You will go to the enemies second line and you will be cuccessful. Your spirit and boldness will carry you through, our artillery will assist you, I wish you luck, “Au revoir” He saluted and then walked away. We sat up till mid-night, discussing our first on fritz. After we had finished plotting poor fritz never had a chance.
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[page 34] JULY 6: Everybody in a hustle preparing for the raid. Sharpening trench knives, getting bombs ready, and oiling pistols. Carrol makes a slip, with his gat, it goes off and tears a hole through Ryans leg. Chuck suggests that we get even for the “welcome 35th division“ fritz pulled on us, not long ago. Rags Carrol does the honors, making a small sign on a strip of board, reading, “ farewell fritz we will call again” It is decide that it will be placed in front of a dug-out, that shows on the aerial map, and which is supposed to be the German captains. 4 P.M. Started to the trenches armed to the teeth, I traveled light, carrying tin hat, gas mask, two auto-pistols, one trench knife, belt, and six clips of ammunition Also the first aid pouch. As we passed the hospital some gloom spreader hollered “ Its all right boys, we have got six ambulances ready for you.” The red-cross detachment of sixteen men with eight stretchers falls in behind the company, Looks as though some one is going to get hurt. 7:39 in the trenches, waiting for our artillery to open up with the preliminary bombardment, that will blast a path through the enemy wire. At exactly 7:45 our artillery opened, about twenty guns going off at the
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[page 35] same time. The lines were only thirty yards apart, at the point where entrenched and it took some very delicate shooting by the artillery to keep from dropping them in our trench. We were hugging the ground in our front line, as the first salvo came over. We could see amountain of earth travel skyward, and the earth trembled as the shells exploded. The germans guessed right at the point where we were going to launch the attack, and their artillery counterbarraged. Then the fireworks started. Shells were dropping all around us, with deafening explosions. Our little old trench was getting uncomfortable. The inaction of laying there and doing nothing was beginning to tell on the nerves. A shell landed square in our trench, and danced. Tore Semevolas to pieces blew off Lovvorns leg, and mauled Nolan up until he was unrecognizable, still he lived. Never touched me and I was laying next to Lovvorn. Another lands jusy outside our parapet, blowing it in and almost buring us. Lieut. Rafferty shell shocked, and I automatically am in command of the platoon Two minutes more and we go over, every body crouched ready to spring at the sound of the whistle. 8:30P.M. our artillery suddenly stops and the quietness is weird. Whistles sound
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[page 36] up and down the line, and we go over. As soon as we get out of our trench we are met with a murderous machine-gun fire. Walker and Melton killed, Barbee and McLoney wounded. A shower of “iron apples” silenced the machine-gun. Shell lands close, knocked down but not hurt. Schultze hit in the arm, a piece of shrapnel goes through Kolms both jaws. Our artillery tore up the bosche wire in good shape, and we expierenced little trouble in getting through. We hit their front line to-gether, it seemed as if every man had gotten their at the same time. A little bayonet work here, and the “KAMERAD” Boys holler enough. The old battle cry, “powder river” rings up and down the line and the boys on our flank are doing their bit. Took a bombing team, and a bayonet squad down communication trench Gratz, looking for a dug-out that showed on the aerial photo. We found it, but we could not do anything here as a heavy from our artillery had scored a direct hit on it. There was just a mass of rocks and splintered timbers, with a few arms and legs sticking out. Worked fast down the trench as we had just twenty minutes to accomplish our mission. Not much resistance met. We hit their second line, and
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[page 37] found the bosche captains dug-out, and elaberate looking affair, well sheltered from shells by the rise in a small hill Chuck planted the sign, and Urban yelled “Come Raus” down the dug-out passage. No answer. We whizzed a smoke bomb in for a pursuader. Out came the captain coughing and choking, trying to look dignified. I grabbed him by the shoulder and shouted, “ Come on you are a prisoner” Pointing to our lines at the same time. He sneered and rattled of something in dutch. My figer closed on the trigger of my pistol, and for the life of me, I do not know what prevented me from firing. Rags grabbed him by the neck and almost dragged him off his feet. He stumbled, and after he arose, he clicked his heels to-gether and shouted, “ Fatherland uber allus” That sealed his doom, a few 45’s poped and he died for his country. Portlock smoked six prisoners out of another dug-out, and came down the trench with them. We had four minutes to get back to our lines, six-hundred yards and all up hill. If we did not make it we would get caught in our own barrage. The auto rifle teams protected our return, with frequent stops, in which they poured out short bursts of fire. Portlocks prisoners realized that it was necessary for us to hurry, so they got sulkey and attempted to delay our return as much
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[page 38] as they could. It proved fatal, Port got sore and killed all six of them. In our rush we became tangled up in the barb-wire, and tore our clothes to shreds. While trying to untangle our selves, a pig came over and seemed to hesitate in mid-air. Knight saw it, and yelled “go on, go on”, waving his arms to assist the pig, on its journey. It did go on, exploding in the valley with a resounding crash. Our artillery had all ready opened up, and our position was getting warm, so we rushed through the wire, leaving bits of clothes and flesh, on the wire. 8:45 Back at the P.C. with just afew barb-wire scratches. Arrived at Boossot with what was left of my platoon at 10 P.M. The cook has a real meal waiting, and the gang stays up till day-light, displaying souvenirs and relatind experiences. Sanders was killed on our flank. The four deaths were the only unhappy thoughts, and the only thing that caused a feeling of gloom, as these chaps were well liked throughout the company. They died like Americans and are a credit to the company. JULY 7: Awoke at 2 P.M. Given a new uniform to replace my rags. Meltner, Walker, Semevolas, and Sanders to be buried at three P.M. Layed the boys away, in a little pine grove, “some
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[page 39] where in France”. A little wooden cross marked their graves. A firing squad fired three volleys, and a bugler sounded taps. Father Kennedy conducted the services, interupted at intervals by the roaring of the guns up the line. JULY 8: Leaving here for a small village behind the lines, to rest before going to the trenches again. Arrived at [Fellering], the town is German absolutely, though the people are apparantly friendly. Nothing but German spoken, and we are begining to wonder if we haven’t marched across the line by miatake. We don’t see any German soldiers, and as there are plenty of French soldiers strolling about, I suppose we are in the right place. My platoon assigned to a large comfortable barn. Michenfelter speaks German fluently, so we are getting along in great style with our German hostess. She tells us that France pays her one penny a day for each soldier that stays in her barn. The town is very small not over a dozen houses, one small hotel and naturally a couple of cafes. A French town can only be composed of two houses, but their will always be at least two cafes in that town. Nothing to do but partake of much rest, and a little champagne at four francs per
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[page 40] bottle. The champagne here is of good quality but the price will probally rise before long. JULY 9: Nothing to do but bum around and admire the mountain scenery. It seems unnatural back here it is too quiet. JULY 10: Rolled packs and started hiking again, rumored that we are going up to the line again. Arrived at Moosch the same sort of a village as Fellering and not far distant. Billets are terrible, would sooner be in a dug-out up the line. Went in to the barber shop the only one in town, it is run by two women. While I am getting my hair cut, Mick is carrying on a conversation that that sadly reminds me of Carondelet in dear old St. Louis. I am about to ask for a shave, when Mick Tells me that the woman that is working on me has a husband and two sons in the German army, I decide to shave my self. JULY 11: General [William] Wright arrives and congratulates the company on the success of the raid. Fourteen men are to be decorated for valor, surprised to learn that I am one of them. I do not remember displaying any valor, as it was plainly my duty to take command of t
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[page 41] platoon after the loot was put out. I am not protesting though, as a souvenir of the great war, a Croix de Guerre is excellent. JULY 12: Living easy, nothing do. July 13: Same as yesterday. JULY 14: French national holiday, so we join in, and help celebrate. Paraded before the French general, and then prepared for an afternoon of atheletics The frogs did not know how to play base ball, so we beat them a hard game of foot-ball. I took on a frog for a six round boxing contest. A right hook to the jaw in the second round, and I won 25 francs. The gang does not believ in celebrating without wine, so the vin begins to flow. The cafes are all crowded and the boys have seemingly mastered the French language. There is very much shoulder shaking, waving of arms, and many words being spoken. The Frogs pretend to understand, even if they don’t, so every body is happy. JULY 15: The sergeants have a banquet at hotel centre. The bill of fare looks good, reading, chicken, fried potatoes, salad, jam, and an assortment of wines that would make a connoisseur sit up and take notice. A royal time, and we solemnly pledge that our next banquet
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[page 42] will be somewhere across the Rhine. July 16: Leaving Moosch in trucks, another rumor is in the air. This time we are going to a red hot sector where there is something doing every minute. Pulled up at Saulxures, we are still a good distance from the line, I hope we don’t have to hike the rest of the way. We are given billets around an old fashion saw-mill. The logs are brought in from the surrounding hills, and the old Frenchman converts them into planks, With his ancient saw, the power coming from a small creek. It is hard to tell which is the older, the mill or its owner. In my travels through France, I have noticed that the most ancient and antique equippment is used in all branches of labor, and it is the more surprising because I had always been taught that France was a progressive country, my own experiences have taught me differant. JULY 17: Drilled all morning, and had inspection in the afternoon. We scoured the surrounding territory, and succeeded in buying several chickens, and afew vegetables. We had the old madam fix us a meal. It was great, and what a change from the menu our cooks have been giving us. Our cooks are
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[page 43] excellent blacksmiths, and if they can cook, I can make a watch. July 18: Went out for our regular morning drill, very hot, hope it rains. We found a swimming hole, and spent the last hour of our drill period, in aquatic sports. To hot to drill this afternoon, do we seek the shade of a nearby wood, and spend a lazy afternoon. JULY 19: Take a few sandwiches for dinner and start out on a military problem. We are to stage a practice battle, and attempt to capture the town south of Saulxures. Incidently this town is five miles away, and of course we are to sneak up on it, carrying full fighting equippment. The sun is at its best, and it will undoubtably be a warm battle. I cannot see these manouevers at all, because no one knows what we are doing but the higher officers, We do a lot of hard work and are taught nothing for our exertions. It would be different if the situation were explained to us, we would then derive some benefit from our work, we were taught more on our little raid, than we will ever be able to learn from six months of sham battles. We of course captured the town, pouncing on it suddenly from
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[page 44] the woods, firing our blank cartridges and nearly scaring the natives to death our manouever was said to be a success but for the life of me, I cannot see where the success was. If they think the Germans are going to let us sneak up within a few feet of a town and then suddenly pounce on it, I think some one is due for a sad awakening. JULY 20: After revellie I am told to report to company headquarters. Receive the news that I am to board an afternoon train and report to Gondrecourt, the base school of the A.E.F. to take a course in gas. I cannot say that I am overjoyed at the prospect of spending a few days at this school. My knowledge of chemistry is rather limited, and I do not see why they chose me for this assignment. JULY 21: After jolting about all night in an un comfortable coach, I arrive at Gondrecourt. The school is situated on a high hill about three miles west of the town. I receive the pleasant news that the Germans have sent planes over each night for the past week, in an attempt to bomb this school off the map. I am assigned to barrack 17, and on our left is barrack 18, this one being assigned to colored
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[page 45] troops. There is absolutely no protection whatsoever against these air raids, and all one can do is stand still and pray that the next bomb does not drop in the immediate vicinity. The colored soldiers are plainly nervous, and there sole topic of conversation is air raids. I never laughed so much in my life, as I did standing there listening to them tell about what they did when the bombs began to drop. I am rather nervous my self as I was only bombed once, and it is far from being a pleasant sensation. The swish of the bomb coming through the air, and its deafening explosion is enough to make any one nervous. JULY 22: I must have brought good luck with me, as we were not bombed last night, the first time in aweek. I sincerely hope that they stay away every night but one, as I want to see our colored neighbors in action during an air raid. Ma de the aquaintance of Sergeant White of the British army last night. A very humorous and sentimental individual. He claims the war will last forever, and being a soldier is just a new way of living - or dieing as the case may be. I can’t agree with him, but he insists that I will be of the same mind after a few more years
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[page 46] We are continually arguing about the merits of our respective countries. Took my first lesson in gas defence this afternoon. A rather interesting study, and I am convinced that I will enjoy taking the course. JULY 23: The playful Germans again refrained from disturbing our slumbers last night, and our colored neighbors are happy, boasting that the biggest bomb in Germany couldn’t scare them, Some of the more cautious ones warn their buddies not to be to boastful, as the Germans would come over to-night High up in the air a plane is hovering, and the unmistakable drone from its exhaust proclaims it a German. Our anti-aircraft batteries hidden in the woods immedeately open fire on it. We can see the shells exploding around it, the smoke from them looking like little balls of cotton. The German is dodgeing and ducking, trying to escape the bursting shells. He finally turns and flys back to the German lines. The colored soldiers are mostly silent, as they well know that the plane was a German scout, sent over to take pictures of our camp. We were due for a bombing shortly as they always took pictures before and after an air raid, then compared them, to try and ascertain
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[page 47] the damage done. We tried out several gas projectors this afternoon, using a very weak solution of chlorine, merely to familiarize ourselves with the equippment. I went to sleep fully clothed as i expected to be awakened before morning. I wasn’t dissapointed. About eleven o’ clock the siren blew, warning every one to put out all lights as a squadron of German planes were headed our way. In about ten minutes the motors could be plainly heard, and the anti-aircraft guns opened up. The first bomb struck the edge of the woods with a resounding crash, and a blinding glare. Several more dropped in quick succession, and our colored neighbors almost tore their barracks down, coming out doors and windows. Wherever they went I do not know, all you could see was a dark streak, and hear a muttered “Lawd have mercy”. and some colored soldier was headed for parts unknown. It was highly amusing despite the fact that one well placed bomb would completely wipe us out. There aim was terrible and after a fruitless half-hour of bombarding they left much to the relief of every one present. JULY 24: Seven colored soldiers were absent at roll call this morning, and the sergeant expressed his doubts as to ever seeing them again in this
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[page 48] neighborhood. Spent a hard day in practical work and study, as to-morrow was to be the final examination, and all those who did not pass were to stay over and take another course with the next class. I did not care to stay as I do not mind being shot at in the trenches, you can shoot back at them there, but during an air raid all you can do is to sit tight and take it without giving anything in return. July 25: Passed the final examination and am leaving to-night. Promised to visit White in England after the war if I am still alive. JULY 26: Stopped off at [Domremy], the birth place of Joan of Ark. Had to catch al8 o’clock train (French time) so I did not get to see as much of the place as I wanted to. I had to change trains at Nancy, and as I had about a four hour wait I decided to stay all night and catch an early morning train. Nancy is a fairly large city, ranking about fourth in size, and population. I engaged a room on the second floor of a four story hotel, and after looking over the town I decide to retire. I was rudely awakened about two A.M. by the clerk, who told me to come down
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[page 49] into the cellar as the town was about to be raided by German bombing planes I was pretty tired, so I decided to stay in bed and take a chance as there were two stories above me. My experiences at Gondrecourt taught me that it was difficult to score a hit from the air, so I felt that I was just as safe in bed as I was in the cellar. I thought I could sleep but I was mistaken. The warning sirens began to blow, and the fire department began madly dashing up and down the street, clanging bells and shouting. I got up and looked out the window, the anti-aircrafts began to bark, and searchlights were combing the sky in long sweeps searching for the invaders Heard the motors whirring then several distant explosions, they gradually came closer, and the windows rattled after each detonation, the fire department continued its mad dash up and down the street. The firemen in the larger cities deserve much credit for their bravery. When the first warning of an air raid is given they patrol the streets ready to put out any fire that may start from a bursting bomb. About three A.M. the siren sounded all clear, and I retired for some much needed sleep. It was a rather strenuous evening after all,
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[page 50] JULY 27: Arrived at Epinal, stopped off to visit the city. Many of the buildings are wrecked from the effects of many air raids. It is a rather old city and is conspicuous by its filthiness. The streets are littered with trash of all sorts, the low stone buildings have long since lost their whiteness, and even the inhabitants seem to fear water. Epinal is the dirtiest city that I have ever seen. JULY 28: Back at Saulxures, and just in time, as the company is leaving for the trenches to-night. The boys are spending all their remaining cash as it isn’t considered wise to have any money while in the trenches. It cannot be spent there, and you may not be alive when the company leaves for rest billets again. I join a party and assist in the celebration. The funds are rather low, and consequently red wine predominates. It has the kick though, and induces the singing spirit into the system, so who cares just so one can sing. It makes the heavy pack seem lighter, shortens the many miles that have to be hiked before arriving at our destination. JULY 29: Awoke at nine A.M. with a slight head ache and a solemn vow never to touch “vin rouge” again.
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[page 51] We are two kilometers from the line, and and I learned that this place is known as Colet de Schluct. It was at one time a summer resort, and the only hotel is a mass of ruins, from the deadly effect of enemy shell fire. I sincerely hope that some day we will be sent to a sector that is on level ground, these mountains are alright for scenery, but not very good to stage a war on. If we ever started a drive here, we would be out of breath chasing up and down these hills before we ever caught up with the Germans. JULY 30: Awoke in a shell torn woods. Hiked all night up and down mountains, until almsot exhausted. The major finally decided that it was impossible to reach the trenches that night, so we lay down and slept, dead tired. The man that said Colet was two kilos from the trenches must have been an aviator. It may be two kilos by air line, but it must be twenty by the road. We are told to keep hidden under the trees to escape observation. More foolish orders, as these trees have been so blasted by shell fire, that they would hardly conceal so many rabbits. We are due to start at 8 P.M. for the final lap to the trenches. It must be an active sector, as we could plainly hear machine-gun fire all day
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[page 52] The artillery is however comparitively quiet, as just a few shells have passed over all day. Our airmen are circleing over us to ward off any inquisitive German plane that may come over. JULY 31: We started out at 8P.M. for the final hike. We had just got started when some D-- fool lit a cigarette two minutes later we got a shower of shells for his carelessness. The ambulance made several trips, but our outfit escaped without a casualty. The relief worked smooth, and half an hour after getting in, the frogs left us, with a wave of the hand, giving us the general direction of the enemy trenches. We did not know if the Germans were on our left, on our right, or in front of us. It was pitch dark and started to rain. We took over the best we could, and prayed that things would remain quiet until dawn, so as we could get our bearings. There is no continuous trench system in these mountains, as there is on the level ground. On top of one hill is a strong point, manned by about twenty men. Then there is a gap of about a hundred yards then another strong point. This makes it possible for the Germans to filter through our lines at night and attack wagon parties on the road behind us. Our patrols do the same
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[page 53] thing behind their lines. That is the only kind of warfare carried on here, as the mountains make it impossible for a decisive battle to be fought here, hence the widely seperated strongpoints. The French sergeant warned me to be on the lookout as a German patrol crept up on his strong point and quietly took six of his men that they surprised asleep in a dugout. I had to smile as I cannot imagine a German patrol carrying off six of my foreign legion without firing a shot. The artillery was rather active all morning, and as it was a good day the aviators staged several battles, with out any one being shot down. But it was differant this afternoon as two Germans were brought down, one in flames and the other floped out of control. Urban, Pat and Iron pick out a post for their auto-rifle. The rifle grenadiers protest as it is too near their post, ( an auto-rifle draws artillery fire) I settle the argument by heads and tails, the auto-rifle man retaining their post. [August] 1: The enemy is keeping rather quiet, which makes it hard for us, as we cannot get a line on his strong points. We have an excellent observation post, situated on a high peak, with a good view of enemy territory. But fritz
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[page 54] is clever with camouflage, and with powerful glasses we are only able to discover a few of his positions. No-mans-land is a vast strech of valley, about five-hundred yards wide at some points which makes it excellent for patrolling. Almost in the very center of no-mans-land is what is left of a small village. The houses have long since been blasted to a crumbling mass of debris by artillery fire. The little church has one wall standing, and the bell tower. The tower has several large shell holes through it, and has a suspicious look to it, as if it were inhabited. The Germans have a sniping post in that tower or I lose my guess. Iron is disgusted, he fired five-hundred shots with the auto-rifle but received no answer. He doubts that there are huns over there. Corp. Harris of the grenadiers takes range, and dumped fifty v.b.s : all around a suspected strong point, still no answer. Decide to get permission from the lieut. to take out apatrol to-morrow night and investigate. Too many volunteers, every body wants to go along. I pick Corp. Williams, Iron, Sullivan, and Webb. [August] 2 : A beautiful day, the stump of a shell torn tree is just outside my dugout, a little bird is perched on it,
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[page 55] singing merrily, no sign of war excepting a few wrecked villages, and one or two unexploded shells along side of my dugout. Far down the line a big gun booms in sullen defiance, then everything is again still. The stillness is unnatural and gets on my nerves. I pick out a spot in the German defence and tell Urban to open up on it. We start a racket but get no reply. 3 P.M. Our artillery opens up, and drops about adozen shells, searching out for a machine gun nest. 8 P.M. The patrol assembles in my dugout, and we talk over our plan. We decide to crawl to a part of the German line that is aparently abandoned. If it is we will crawl into their trench and work to the right until we run into something. Iron wants to know what we will do if this particular spot we are headed for isn’t abandoned. We had not condidered that, so we decided to use our bombs, and every one on his own, to get back to our trench as he saw best. It is a dark night which is in our favor. We agree upon signals, blacken our face and hands, and start off. Our cheerful friends asking where shall they send our personal belongings if we don’t come back. 3:30 A.M. Back again, a few notes before turning in. Made it across no-mans-land O.K. we lay in a shell hole about twenty yards from the
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[page 56] German line. I signaled for the decoy ( a rock thrown in the German wire to attract their attention away from us.) It certainly made enough noise, and plainly rattled fritz. He shot a couple of flares in the air, a couple of rifles cracked, a bomb went off, then all quiet. The position I thought abandoned was very much occupied. We crawled a little closer, got into a kneeling position, and with a muttered “now” we cut loose with a bunch of bombs then we beat it to the nearest and deepest shell hole. Our bombs exploded with a crash, we heard several shrieks then hell broke loose. I never heard so many machine-guns in my life, they poured out a continuous fire. Our little old shell hole certainly looked good with all that steel flying around No-mans land looked like the gay white way, fritz sent up flare after flare, utilizing their light to comb no-mans land with their machine-guns. We lay there for over an hour, then decided that we would start for a place where we were more welcome. We finally crawled back into our trench without further event. No body hit, we talk it over trying to imagine how much damage our bombs had done. Fritz was one sore little boy, he sprayed our parapets all night with machine-gun fire. He might as well have been
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[page 57] shooting at the moon, as the boys certainly know how to seek cover under machine-gun fire. Day is just breaking, Billy is sitting on one end of my bunk asleep with a half burned cigarette between his fingers, Williams and Webb are reading, and Iron is attempting to smoke a frog cigarette, doing more swearing than smoking. I can’t blame him as those cigarettes are strong enough to kill a mule. I have a report to make out, then the hay for an hour or two at least. The rats are having some sort of a dance on my bunk, I hope that they will be good enough to leave, or at least let me share half of my own bed. I have been here long enough for them to know me, they don’t think anything of playfully? nipping me on the ear as I sleep, some pets. [August] 3: 9A.M. Awoke by the enemy bombarding our position. Their artillery is rotten, only dropped one shell in our trench out of about fifty. No one hit. 11-A.M. Bombarded again, this will never do, they will accidently hurt one of us yet. 3-P.M. Revenge - our artillery opens up and peppers the German position for thirty minutes of steady fire. I was in the O.P. with the artillery observation officer, and witnessed a lot of direct hits on fritzies front line. 9-P.M. Can hear
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[page 58] an awful commotion in fritzs trench, hammers, picks, and shovels, seem to be working over time, and now and then a few snatches of conversation drifts across the valley. I get Harris to send over a few tokens of affection, in the form of v.b.s, after the v.b. barrage all is quiet on the other side of the fence. [August] 4: The trouble maker comes up to our post looking for a position, much to the disgust of the boys. (The one pounder or baby cannon is known as the trouble maker.) It is a very accurate weapon, and its light weight makes it easily moved, and the baby artillerymen pack up and move after firing a few shots. They general - hit what they are after, and it peeves fritz so much that he usually opens up with three inch shells, trying to put the baby out of action. Of course the artillerymen are gone, and we get the shells. They finally get it mounted and pump out six shots in rapid succession at one of fritzs known machine-gun posts. They then pulled their cannon apart and beat it. We were watching them depart, casting pert remarks in their direction about staying and taking their medicine. z-z-z-zing BANG fritz sends one over, we did not wait to see where it hit, Pat made adive for the
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[cartoon] THIS drawing is by Sergt. G. O. Von Land of Co. H, 138th (St. Louis) Infantry who was mentioned in the story of Post-Dipatch staff correspondent, Clair Kenamore, of the famous raid of the company in the Vosges on July 6, as having led one half a platoon. It depicts, as he wrote on the back of it, what happens when the one-pounder is fired. “Every time the pounder goes off,” he writes, “the boche sends over a large shell and as soon as the men hear the one- [text cut off here]
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[page 59] dug-out and fell down, Knight, Urban, and Mack, dash over him in the rush. Iron stands under the shelter of an embankment laughing. (See cartoon) I don’t blame him. It aws the funniest stunt pulled off in atrench that I ever saw. Our paper the “Minnewiffer weekly” was due in two days, so I decided to draw a picture of the incident and contribute same to the sheet. The buzzer sounds and I get the s,o,s for a strecher. Grunewalds leg broken, Wright hit in the foot by aPiece of the shell. Just as luck would have it, the lone shell landed in the kitchen. Pots and pans blown all over the place. Looks like we will eat “corn willie” for a while. If all the wishes came true that we wished that one-pounder gang, they would die a horrible death before morning. [August] 5: Quiet all morning. 3-P.M. Fritz cracked a shrapnel shell over our trench, Harris hit in the shoulder, and I got four small pieces in the left hand. Harris going to the hospital, the Doc pulled my little pieces out with tweezers, painted it with iodine, he asked me if I wanted a rest back in the hospital. I assured him that I would be heaving bombs over to fritz left handed before morning
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[page 60] [August] 6: Received an order to report to Gerardmer a little town behind the lines to a disagreeable job as witness on a court martial. The sunbeam was under camouflage, Erman, Billey and I fill her up with gas and oil, then tear out over the hills, as it doesn’t pay to linger on a road that is under enemy observation. We pull up at hotel “de Nationale” at 9 A.M. Saw Gruney at the hospital, he is coming along alright. Stopped at the Salvation army hut, hot choclate and doughnuts. We probally made a pig of ourdelves, but such things are very seldom seen, so we took advantage. Went boating on Black lake in the afternoon. Sullivan tipped the boat over, he did not know a mountain lake was so cold. Erman couldn’t swim, he nearly drowned before we found it out. He pushed the boat in Erman hanging on the side. The sun was hot and we dried our clothes without taking them off. Erman figured that Sullivan was over fond of water, so he poured some in his bed. I lost all around. I got soused in the lake, and had to sleep with Sullivan, as it was the last and only double bed in the hotel. [August] 7: The trial lasted all morning After dinner we took the sunbeam through Cardroes pass, and up to Mt.
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[page 61] Elaine, the highest point in the Vosges mountains. Ran out of gas and coasted back down. Going back to the trenches to-morrow. [August] 8: We were stepping along at a pretty fast clip, things were too quiet as we neared the line, and we were expecting something unpleasant. We got it. Far in the distance a gun boomed. The shell came over with a shrieking noise, and exploded about five-hundred yards in our rear. Then one exploded in front of us. They had us “bracketed” and we could about imagine where the next one would land. Too close for comfort, so we abandon the machine and take to the woods. Giving Colburn highway an awful shelling, hope they miss the machine. The shelling suddenly ceased, the sunbeam was untouched so we give it the gas. The neighborhood was unhealthy. Instead of leaving the danger zone we run into it. A shell lands square in the center of the road about two-hundred yards in front of us. I jam on the brakes and burn up a couple of pounds of rubber sliding the wheels. Machine again abandoned. We are convinced that they are gunning for us, and try to imagine what would have happened if our speed had been increased just enough for us to have met that last shell. C’est la guerre
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[page 62] We tried it again, and finally arrived at Molliere unmolested. We put the sunbeam under camouflage, and proceeded to the trenches on foot. Brought back some chocolate, a luxury to the boys in the line. Our unlucky day, as we are just in time. The bosche begins shelling our positions with gas - mustard gas too. Not a very heavy attack but the stuff has a habit of sticking around. [August] 9: More shells and pigs, fritz has our range and is using trench mortors on us. Quiet in the afternoon, decide to write some letters. An order comes in for me to take out apatrol. Fritz suspected of building an out post in no-mans-land. And of course it falls on me to investigate. Its a wonder some of these other birds wouldn’t get next to theirselves, and enjoy a few thrills out their. 9-P.M. Took two men and crawled out to where outpost was supposed to be under construction. No sign of it, so we crawled back without event. [August] 10: Dull day, business is poor, fritz refuses to play. Tried to scare up some excitement at Barrenkopf using four clips of twenty cartridges each, on the “sho-sho”. No answer, fritz must be tired this morning, or hasn’t
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[page 63] any ammunition to waste in playful arguments. A nice quiet day, fine for repairing trenches, but our trenches are in good shape. If they needed repairing it would be our luck, that our positions would be under heavy fire This afternoon Chuck suddenly craves French fried potatoes. He got a dozen “spuds” from the cook, then gets foolish, by building a fire in the trench, about ten yards from our dugout. Whenever our observation post sees smoke in the German trenches, they communicate with the artillery, and the artillery starts dropping shells around that smoke. I think the Germans employ the same system, in fact I know they do. Chuck was busily engaged stirring the potatoes, the fire making more smoke than a Pittsburg steel mill. Zip-BANG fritz shoots one over, missed our trench a mile. Chuck legs it for the dugout, making it in a couple of hops. After a few minutes wait, and as nothing further happens, Chuck again goes out to see how the potatoes are. Fritz drops another one closer this time. I advise Chuck to leave the “poms” go and put out that fire, or the St. Louis papers will be printing another casualty list. I did not have to make my argument strong, as the next shell landed square on our parapet, and blew in about ten yards of trench. The potatoes were buried, Chuck did not get
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[page 64] his french fries, but he will get a job in avery short while filling about forty sand bags, and building up that parapet. 9-P.M. Heavy firing on our right, a continuous roar since seven o’clock. [August] 11: 2-A.M. Artillery duels all night Light and heavy stuff passing over, thank the Lord it is passing over, instead of stopping here. I am on my twenty-four hour watch, which means no sleep for thirty-six hours then darn little. 7-A.M. More shells, missing our position by inches, going over the hill and tearing up the road in our rear. Aviation active all day. Rather quiet around our place, not much work to do on the munition report, as very little ammunition was expended to-day. Quiet throughout the night, except the usual machine-gun, rifle, and grenade fire. [August] 12: Our T.M.s get set and send fritz about twenty-five made in the U.S. high explosive shells. A new gun opened up and sprayed our parapet. Strange gun again sprays our parapet, we can’t locate it. We had all of their guns spotted, and could tell by the angle of its fire and the sound, which gun it was. But this was a new one, and we could not locate it. We will have to coax him to-night with the Aetnian. The Aetnian is a French gun
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[page 65] that works mechanically. It can be set so as to fire five shots, then after an inteval of five minutes fire five more, or any amount of shots with various intervals. The good part of it is that you can set it and get away from it, you are then safe from the searching fire that the enemy sends out to attempt to silence machine-gun fire. Its one draw back is that it is to complicated, and is seldom in perfect working condition. We instruct our artillery that we will try out firework signals to-night, at eleven P.M. They are not to answer them as we are merely trying them to ascertain their quality. It will only take about two minutes to do this, so we instruct them to answer all signals after 11:02. At eleven P.M. we start a celebration that reminds us of a fourth of July evening. Our various colored rockets shoot in to the air, casting fantastic shadows across no-mans-land. We find our stock in good condition so we cut our experiments short. Fritz must have been bewildered at our pyrotechnical display, as he began playing with his fireworks about twelve o’clock. I watched their lights going up, they had about the same colors as we had. All of a sudden I held my breath, fritz had tempted fate to far. I saw two certain colored lights in the air at the same time,
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[page 66] I knew it was our emerengency signal calling for a barrage to be layed down on enemy front line. Our artillery responded instantly to fritzs signal. Our shells come over with a shriek and a crash. I saw no more lights from fritzs trench that night. [August] 13: I was called to regiment headquarters this morning, and imagine my surprise, when the colonel asked me what I meant by calling for an emergency barrage last night. I was dumbfounded I had not called for a barrage. Then I remember that it was fritz that sent up the signal that brought down the barrage on his own head. I told the colonel that the enemy had sent the signal. Preposterous - he would not believe it. That barrage cost around forty - thousand dollars, and the old man declared that the person responsible for it would be court-martialed. I could not see myself being court-martialed, so I said that I would bring him proof that the enemy was responsible for the forty-thousand dollar barrage. I had half of my platoon to go to headquarters and swear that we were not responsible for the barrage. We finally convinced him, but he was still doubtful, as he could not understand why the enemy would send up a signal to have their own position bombarded.
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[page 67] [August] -14: Shelled at intervals all morning. Rags Carroll and Dinny Dineen found a small keg of rum left by the French. They want to go over and whip the German army. I finnally persuade them not to harm the huns, so they content themselves with yelling challenges across no-mans-land, advertising the fact that they can whip any one in the German army from the Kaiser on down. After yelling theirselves hoarse, they retire to their dugout, stating that the German army is composed of cowards, as their challenge was unanswered. [August] -15: Strange gun sprayed our parapet at intervals throughout the day. We cannot locate it to counter fire, so we sent for the Aetnian. 9-P.M. We pointed the Aetnain in the general direction of the enemy strongpoint, then set it for bursts of five shots at thirty second intervals. We then entered the observation post to await developements. “Etni” opens up but receives no answer from the strange gun, “Etni” again fires, this time we are rewarded, the strange gun cut loose, and gave its position away by a few tiny sparks from its muzzle. I marked its position on the fire chart, and covered it with a “sho-sho”. Now we dare it to fire.
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[photo of ruined church] CHURCH- IN NO-MANS-LAND [ms illegible: 1 wd] (AFTER ARMISTICE)
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[page 68] [August] -16: Good jumping spirits of coal-oil, another patrol order, and as usual adressed to me. The patrol order reads - Enemy snipers have been sniping at our lines with deadly affect, snipers are suspected of being in or near church steeple. Required that you take patrol using your own judgement as to strength, go out to steeple under cover of darkness, remain there until you either kill or capture snipers. Take three days rations. Can you beat? A little three day picnic in a ruined church half way across no-mans-land. Every patrol order that comes in finds its way into my hands. Its up to me to deliver so I may as well make the best of it. I go up to the observation post, and take a look at that folorn looking little village. The chuch steeple is about the only thing standing, the battered clock is facing our way, the hands pointing to six-thirty. I am tempted to take a large patrol but decide that three of us will be plenty. Iron, and Sullivan are selected. 9-P.M. Loaded down with canned goods, bread, and necessary fighting equippment, we begin that two-hundred yard crawl out into the land of mystery. The trip is slow and cautious and at 1:30 we arrive at the foot of the steeple, What was weird looking place it was, the church itself was just a shattered pile of rocks, part
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[page 69] of the alter remained, bits of statuary lay scattered about, The moon was shining brightly, and it all stood out in ghostly relief, proclaiming a gross injustice to civilization. The sight of it caused a cold shiver to run down my spine. I pulled myself together with an effort, and crawled into the steeple, pistol ready for instant action. While in no-mans-land it is the better policy to shoot first, then ask questions. No one barred our entrance so we stood up and streched our aching backs. The steeple was about twenty feet high, an iron ladder against the wall ran up into inky blackness. We did not speak but made ourselves understood by the sign language. I motioned toward the ladder and pointed up, as I started to ascend Sully pushed me away, and started up first. We cautiously climbed the ladder, and I expected to have Sully come tumbling down on top of us any minute, from a bayonet thrust, or a crash from a rifle butt. We gained the loft, and aided by the moon beams coming through the numerous shell holes in the tower, we examined the place that was to be our home for the next three days, unless a shell hit it before that time, or some other misfortune overtook us. We discovered nothing but a bell hanging to the rafters. At one time this bell called the peaceful folk of this ruined village
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[page 70] to services, but if touched now, it would probably sound our death knell, as we were less than two-hundred yards from the German lines, and no doubt they had a machine-gun turned on this tower, or the artillery could probably obliterate it in about three shots. We sat down in a corner and waited for dawn-and what a long wait it was. I wanted a cigarette, and wanted it bad, but to strike a match is one of the first “don’ts” of patrolling. The usually machine-gun and rifle fire was going on, and we sat in the corner dozing, being careful not to get in front of the many holes in the tower. The weirdness of the place of playing on my nerves as each minute passed. We jumped to our feet, as a blood curdling yell sounded just above our heads. It only took us a second to realize what it was, but I am confessing right here that I know what fear is. Anyone in a ghostly church steeple out in no-mans-land, expecting something to happen any minute, then suddenly hearing a hoot-owl about two feet away, would also know the meaning of fear, regardless who he is. My nerves shattered right there, I took off my shirt put it around my head as a curtain then struck a match and lit a cigarette, maghine-gun or artillery fire meant nothing to us, we had to smoke, regardless
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[page 71] When afellow has been in the trenches a couple of times, and taking chances as a matter of course, things happening which are expected pass by almost unnoticed. But let something weird and uncanny happen-then that thing they call morale is shattered, and I happen to know. [August] -17: With the coming of dawn, we looked around, for a hole of some kind through which we could observe the surrounding territory, without being observed ourselves. There were plenty of shell holes in the tower, but they were to big to answer our purpose. Sully found a long narrow slit about two feet from thr floor, it gave us a good view of the enemy lines, and a good portion of no-mans-land. The day passed without event. I got several pages of observation notes, that will be valuable to the C.O. Noticed a family of six, young, white owls, and mother owl, up in the rafters, the cause of our unpleasantness last evening. [August] -18: Still nothing doing, no trace of a sniper around here. A great many shells passed over head all day. Just so fritz doesn’t take a notion to shell this tower, I’ll be thankful, if he does --- CURTAIN. 9-P.M. Interested in a slight movement near the enemy trench, convinced that it is an enemy patrol,
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[page 72] and headed this way. Iron is for going down stairs and sticking them in the neck as they crawl through the opening. Sully argues that we should stay where we are, let them crawl in then drop bombs on them, The trouble with Irons plan is that we would probally stick one German then have a bomb hurled in at us. Sullys plan was alright, but we would be in danger from our own bombs. The faint moon-light we can see a winding streak of dark forms coming toward us, slowly crawling, and resembling a huge snake. From the length of the line there are probably twenty Germans, and as there are only three of us I decide not to take a chance. It would be foolish, and could gain us nothing. We left the tower and crawled about ten yards away from it. We have decided to let them crawl past us, then if there is a stragler, give him the “headache” stick, and brimg him in a prisoner. We lay there hearing all shorts of weird sounds, I must have raised my pistol twenty times to fire, as I thought I saw something to close for comfort. Our guardian angel was certainly watching over us, had I fired it would have attracted the patrol, and meant our finish, as we had a dread of being made prisoner. Far up the line an intense artillery action was going on. Between the roar of the guns we imagined we heard the patrol a dozen times
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[page 73] The sky was turning grey in the east, and as dawn was fastly approaching, we decided that the patrol had taken a differant course, so we again crawled back in the tower. [August] -19: Awoke about eleven by Iron who was on watch at the slit. He had discovered the sniper. About fifty yards from the tower, nicely concealed in a pile of rocks lay the object of our little tour in no-mans-land. As I saw him I almost gave a whoop of joy. It would be the easiest thing in the world to dispose of him, and then this awful seclusion out in this God-for-saken waste would end. We were almost physical wrecks, our faces were haggard and drawn, and the strain was beginning to tell. A human being can only stand so much. We were fast approaching the end of our endurance. Iron was looking around through the glasses, he heard a shot, and saw a fine cloud of dust kicked up from the gas, as the sniper fired. As usual luck was against us in a critical moment. A sudden lull in the firing, made it dangerous for us to fire, and we actually prayed for a lot of noise, so we could finih our job. It seemed unfair to kill a man by firing into his back unawares, but he was calmly taking aim, and sniping at our lines, every moment we delayed gave
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[page 74] him an oportunity to get one of our men. Sully and Iron lay on the floor the muzzle of their rifles, barely resting on the edge of a hole, awaiting their chance. I was watching fritz through the glasses, with my mind made up to give the order to fire, as soon as he took another aim at our lines, even if our hiding place was discovered. If the artillery would only open up, it was our only chance. After a wait that seemed an age, our artillery opened up, the shell came screaming over. They both fired at the same time. They did not miss, fritz raised himself slightly and rolled over. Another pest gone. 9-P.M. Iron crawled out to our victim, got his short sniping rifle, helmet, and shoulder straps. We started back our mission accomplished. The shoulder straps showed that fritz was a member of the 27th Bavarian regiment. [August] -20: We looked more like ghosts than men. Our nerves were jumpy, we were pale and sick, our trip was a success, but we aged ten years in those three little days. The captain congratulated us on our success, and told us that he had two observers watching our tower day and night. He also had several machine-guns set so as to lay a barrage on the enemy lines, should we be discovered. We are to be relieved to-night, and we are busy checking up on trench stores. I had a report ready to go to battalion h’dq’rs;
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[page 75] I hollered for a runner, Mox Hieken comes in, and I give him the report with instructions to rush. Enemy artillery opens up on bat.H’qr’s; dropping a choice collection of H.E. all around the place. Mox protests, saying he has a sore foot, no one else around so I decide to go my self. He says he will go along if I walk slow. I told him I intended to go slow, hoping that the shelling would stop before I got there. Battallion headquarters was located in the second valley, behind our hill. To reach it we had to go through a trench covered with a camouflaged roof, and about a mile long. We went to the bottom of our hill, then started through the camouflaged trench. Suddenly they ceased shelling bat.h’dq’rs; then ---- started on the camouflaged trench. I started down the trench as fast as I could go, and I was travelling. Then I remember Mox, back there in all that shelling with a sore foot. I decided to stop and go back. I slowed down and Mox shoved his head over my shoulder, yelling, “Go on, don’t stop here” We were just keeping ahead of the shells, each one seemed to explode just behind us, giving the impression that if we stopped, the next one would land on our head. We finally reached headquarters and dove headlong into a dugout. I asked Mox how the foot was, he said he had forgotten all about it in the rush. We
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[page 76] went back the same way. Only one shell landed in the trench, it blew off about twenty yards of camouflage. 9-P.M. The frogs came in to relieve us, fritz guessed right, about a relief going on, and shell- the place with mustard gas. Everything was in confusion, we were wearing gas masks, which made it still harder. We finally got things straightened out, and were relieved - three hors late. We gave the frogs all the pointers possible about the sector, then pulled out as it began to rain. [August] -21: We had stopped in a wood last night, after hiking ten kilos. It was pouring down rain. We were soaked to the skin, and our packs containg our blankets etc; were wet through and through. We put up our tents under the trees, rolled up in a wet blanket and went to sleep What did it matter, if the groung was wet, or our blanket was soaked? We had hiked ten kilos, it was near dawn and we were exhausted from carrying a water soaked pack, that weighed twice its normal weight. We could have layed down in the road, regardless of rain and slept. It was still raining, our ration train had gotten lost as usual, and a meal was something that we could look forward to, in say -- a couple of days. [August] -22: It is still raining, we are still hiking, I am going to discontinue
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[page 77] writing, it is almost impossible to do so as we are hiking all night, and sleeping by day We are urgently needed somewhere and are on a forced march. It is a killing pace, and it is beginning to tell on the men. We start hiking at dusk, and continue till dawn, with a five minute rest every hour. The rain adding weight to our packs and our rifles feel like field pieces. Hiking by day, and sleeping by night, we finally pull into a strech of woods, on September first. The American drive at the St. Mihiel sector was about to begin, enemy planes were flying over head all day, we kept under cover of the trees, as we knew if we were discovered we would be bombed the same night. Our planes keeping the invaders back. Battles in the air were so numerous, and so many planes crashed to earth, that it became a common sight. We were backing the twenty-sixth division, if the went through alright, if the resistance was too strong it was up to usto give them a lift. They overcame all resistance, and our services were needed elsewhere. We stayed around a few more days, drying out our equippment, then on the tenth of September we started hiking again, and after touring France on foot, we arrived at a little siding and entrained. On [September] 21 we unloaded at Lunneville, to begin another hike. That evening we got on trucks rode two days, passed through Toul, and
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[page 78] after passing through Verdun we unloaded. We then hiked some more, ending in a wood, north-west of Verdun, and two kilos from the trenches. We had no dugouts, so we took advantage of the trees as a screen, hoping that no stray shells would find our hiding place. [September] -24: A feeling of impending battle was in the air. Each night the road was choked by a steady stream of trucks, carrying up ammunition of all sizes and discription. Artillery of all sizes began arriving, they lined up in long rows hub to hub and several rows deep. I was called to the captains quarters and heard the dope. Our division will be one of those in the first line of attack, to give the enemy the first shock of the second battle of Verdun. We are to attack on the 26 of September, real action at last, after all this playing around, and we are to be the first over the top. The first American army is to attack the hardest part of the line, in a huge offensive, Involving troops of practically all the French possessions. Our division has the [Vauquois] fortress and three strongly fortified lines directly in its path. The whole battle-front covers twenty miles, and if sucessful, as it no doubt will be, it will cut the German line of communication, seperating two of their armies, and ending this little old war. What it takes to end wars we have got,
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[page 79] [September] -25: Preparing for the biggest adventure of my life, the all American drive and the end of Germany. I called the gang together and explained the importance of this battle, everybody eager for action, and it will undoubtably be some scrap. Am going to write some letters while I have the chance, as the future is doubtful, I may never have the opportunity again. 9-P.M. Moved up to the ammunition dump, we received our quota of ammunition, then moved up closer to the front line. We halted in a shell torn wood about one thousand yards from the trenches. This wood was bristling with artillery, lined up as in the rear hub to hub. We lay down between the rows of cannon to rest, but not to sleep as that was impossible. About mid-night the artillery far up the line began a deception fire. The idea was to make the enemy believe that the attack would start at that point. If they move their divisions up there, we will be able to advance in the morning without much resistance. The artillerymen were working feverishly, bringing up ammunition and piling it beside their guns. Officers were bent over maps, with masked flash lights, marking off the places their guns were to cover. Wagons were bumping over the rough roads, bringing up shells, the drivers cursing and hollering at the mules. The mules themselves occassionally
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[page 80] rent the air with a shriek, that I imagine was heard in Berlin. If the Germans did not hear all that racket, they certainly are deaf. We go over at dawn. September 26 1918. THE ARGONNE BATTLE. 2:30 A.M. Hell broke loose in all its fury. From a deathlike silence our guns suddenly crashed out a sudden roar. The earth trembled from their detonation, and it seemed as if an earthquake were in progress. The most inspiring sight I ever witnessed in my life, the spurts of flame ceashing out through the darkness, and the scream of the shells passing over head, gave me a thrill that will never be equalled. Our big rail-road guns, farther back, roared out their echo of liberty at frequant intervals. I am glad that I am on the friendly side of those boys. You could not hear yourself think, and mere words can not describe this sight as it appears before me. Whitey, Pat, Iron, Sully, and I sat in a shallow trench, yelling into each others ears, trying to carry on a conversation above the din of the artillery. As several guns side by side went off at the same time, the flash lighted the immediate vicinity, We could see the artillerymen striped to the waist
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[page 81] toiling over their guns, opening and closing the breach, extracting and loading shells with machine-like precisian. The guns were covered with blankets, which were kept wet by bucket brigades from a nearby stream. The French fire their piece till it gets hot, then wait until it cools. The American tries to cool his gun with water, if there is no water, he fires till the gun burns up. They have not patience to wait until a gun cools, while the rest are firing, so they don’t wait. Big sheets of red and yellow flame were going up in our front and rear, it seemed as if we were hemmed in by a wall of fire. It was the phospheros burners, forming a smoke screen to shield the launching of the attack at dawn. I looked at my watch it was 4-40, we had an hour to wait. We were smoking numerous cigarettes as our nerves needed a stimulant. (anti-tobaccoists take notice) I walked up and down to see if my men were all right and gave them instructions to hold on to each others hand as we moved out. Our guide started out and we moved up toward the line, It was fastly approaching day-light, and in the gray of dawn we could see a hill just before us, our guide said it was the jumping off place. As we moved down the road, we suddenly came across the form of a dough-boy
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[page 82] lying in the road apparently asleep. As we came closer, it dawned upon us that he was dead. His arms were folded in front of his face, he probably saw the flash of the exploding shell before him, and put up his arms to shield his face, the top of his head was missing. It was our first hint of what we were going to see in numbers very shortly. As we approached the crest of the hill, we could see machine-guns lined up at intervals of about three yards. They were whirring like rattlesnakes, spitting out amurderous fire, probably at a cross road, or some suspected enemy concentration point. As we looked over the hill at the German positions, we saw a heavy fog in the valley, which awas very much in our favor. Overhead could be heard the whirring of airplane motors, but the fog hid them from our view. 5-40 We formed in single file, and started down the hill into that fog-hidden valley of mystery. A sudden rift in the fog gave the Germans a momentary advantage. Thier observers saw us, and we paid the price. The German artillery immediately barraged the hill crest with shrapnel and high-explosives. Many of our boys died going down that hill, they died without firing a shot. I finally got my platoon out of the maze of barbwire, and deployed them in thin lines, we crossed the bombarded area without
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[page 83] mishap. Our smoke screen and the fog were so heavy that we could hardly see. The artillery had dropped “stink shells” on the enemy front line. These shells contained a vile smelling liquid which was harmless. Its purpose was to deceive the enemy, they would naturally think it was gas, they would put on gas masks, we would not. We had the advantage, a man fights better when not bothered with a gas mask. We cautiously approached the wire protecting the enemy front line, and we promptly hit the ground as a million (so it seemed) machine-guns opened on us. We retaliated with V.Bs, then scrambled over the wire for a bayonet charge. Took the trench after a short and furious scrap. We looked like scare-crows, our clothes torn to shreds from the wire. Knorberd killed, Harris wounded, Gerber and Hoffman missing, cannot say whether killed or wounded. Pulled out of the smoke screen, and saw a row of enemy sausages up about two miles back. [Vauquois] fortress (See note) on our left, still being bombarded by our guns. A tremendouus explosion knocked me flat and the earth trembled. Our artillery reached the target it was seeking. One of the big shells had pierced a mine gallery in the fortress. I sat up in time to see the crest of [Vauquois] traveling sky-ward, in a huge fountain debris. I sheltered as much of my anotomy as possible, crouching under my [continued on page 87]
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[page 84] (NOTE) CONFIDENTIAL REPORT ON [Vauquois] HILL. Not to be taken into front line trench. 1st Army Corps, Second Section, [September] 22, 1918. [Vauquois]. [Vauquois] may be taken as a perfect example of German fortification, combining an elaborate trench system with the use of mines. (1) The trenches, during the day, are occupied sentinels, as few as are absolutely essential. The garrison is in deep dugouts affording protection from our largest shell These are comfortably equipped, having, electricity, water supply, and kitchens close at hand. All necessary supplies are brought in by narrow guage railroad. On the slightest signal, everyone can be at his post of combat. (2) The fortrss of [Vauquois], dominating the plain for 100 miles, is one of the points on the front where the Germans have installed themselves with great thoroughness In the defensive system of [Vauquois] mines figured very prominently throughout 1916, and the beginning of 1917. Since the month of June 1917, mining activity has steadily decreased. At the present date galleries are known to exist, but there has been no recent explosions. From captured documents dated December, 1917, it appears that [Vauquois] must be held at all costs. If the tactical situation eventually necessitates a retirement the Commandant of [Vauquois] is ordered to blow up all mined galleries.
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[page 85] The garrison of [Vauquois], consists of 18 officers, and about 1370 men. Consisting of infantry, engineers, machine-gunners, trench-mortormen, and two mine companys. Dug-outs: Most of the dug-outs are situated on the slopes N. of VAQUIOS, between hills 265 & 270. Communication terenches and tracks: Two important communication trenches enter [Vauquois] from the W. the boyou de Gratz, and the boyou de Agrem. These lead to a point to about 100 meters from the entrances to the dugouts. From this point the reliefs come across open ground to the foot of the ladders which leas to the tunnels of the dugouts. The [Varennes-Vauquois] road seems to be the most used. The paths along the boyou de Gratz are also much frequented Railways: A narrow guage railway leads from the town of [Varennes] to [Vauquois] over the [Varennes] Pont des Quatre Enfants road. (See map) as far as BOUREVILLES road A branch line leads to the engineers supply depot, another branch line leads to the Bois du GRAND BEC to supply the ammunition depot. ELECTRICITY: The electricity for [Vauquois] is furnished by a power house installed in the caves of the MOULIN [Varennes]. The current is furnished to [Vauquois] by two isolated cables 15 mm in diameter, fixed on posts one m high. These cables leaving the MOULIN across the fields to the S. And follow the river as far as the bridge PIONNERIES one kilo from [Vauquois]. From there the cables pass to the [South] of hill 213, across the boyou de EUNUQUES, and thru the boyou du ROSSIGNAL.
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[page 86] From there the vables follow the line of the boyou de Gratz into [Vauquois]. TUNNELS: The tunnels opening on the N, slope of [Vauquois] come out on the perpendicular line of the second trench. Shafts about 15 m.deep, in which ladders are placed, constitute the means of communication between the tunnels and the trench These tunnels are constructed by an electric drill. The tunnels are from one and one-half to two m. wide. The walls are not propped except in a few places where there is risk of them falling in. The exit of the shaft is protected by a roof consisting of a bed of rails covered with a slab of re-inforced concrete and alayer of sand bags. There are prabally four tunnels in actual use now. Dugouts have been built on the right and on the left by simply enlarging the tunnel. TRENCHES: the trenches of the front line, often not well kept up, are only occupied by sentinals. The trench in the second line is re-inforced with brick on the side toward the enemy. In all the parapets steel plates are embedded about four to five mm. thick, containing loop-holes. Empty sand bags conceal these plates from view. A good number of the trenches are covered. This report gives an example of the work of our intelligance dept. The imformation is obtained from airplane photos, captured documents, and the quizzing of prisoners. These reports are always authentic, and dependable. G.O.V.
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[page 87] [continued from page 83] “tin hat”, as the rocks began to fall. Manouevered the platoon into skirmish formation, and began the advance. Crossed [Vauquois] road in a deluge of shells without a casualty. The right of the line was held up by machine-gun fire. The resistance was over come and we moved forward. We approached a row of dug-outs, no one answered as we hollered into them, but just to make sure, we threw a smoke bomb in each one. We realized 87 prisoners they came out of those dug-outs like rats in a hole. Scouts reported a German tank on our left flank, we started out to get it. The driver saw us coming, he came out hands over head. The tank was a slight incline, so I gathered the gang around it and after much straining we succeeded in turning it over. Entered the forest, machine-guns located in the trees were producing amurderous fire, my ranks were getting thin, by attaching every group of men I came upon I soon had a stronger fighting machine than the one I started with. It was like hunting big game in the jungle. Some one would spot a fritz in a tree, a careful aim and fritz would come tumbling to the ground. Ordered out of the forest to join the attack on Cheppy. We joined the rest of the company and started after Cheppy. The enemy resented our coming, but we insisted, took Cheppy by storm, some more prisoners,
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[page 88] My bayonet stained a gruesome red, it worried me to look at it, I wiped it on my shirt sleeve. I got hit on the head with something, it pained but I did not remberer what hit me. I heard many stories of atrocities comitted by the Germans, I doubted most of them, if I ever hear another I will never doubt it. We came across the body of a tank driver he had advanced too fast. He was pinned to the ground with five bayonets. I ceased to be human after seeing this, I was suddenly seized with a desire to kill without listening to a plea for mercy, (the Germans were experts in pleading for mercy) Held up by cleverly camouflaged machine-gun nests outside Cheppy. Filtered the platoon from shell hole to shell hole until close enough to rush. We rushed, I saw several of the boys stumble, I knew why they stumbled. Some of them would never get up. The huns stuck to their guns until they ran out of ammunition, then five of them came out hands over head, shouting, “Kamerad” I rembered the tank driver, I looked back over the scene of this advance. It was spotted with figures in khaki, some of them were moving as though in great pain, others were still. The five huns died there, I still maintain I got three of them, while Pat swears that he got four of them. It was getting dark, we wre dirty and lousy, and to add
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[page 89] to our discomfort it began to rain. All we had on was shirt, trousers, and shoes, Leggins and other unnecessary equippment was abandoned long ago. It began to get cold. What an awful night it was, no cigarettes as a light would give our position away. We were ordered to dig in and hold the line, the next advance would be at dawn. We had not eaten since yesterday, in fact we had forgotten about eating. Cold corned beef, and dry bread certainly tasted good that night. Enemy sent over shells all night, searching out our position. Fritz threatened a counter attack about mid-night. Our outposts put out a hot machine-gun fire, and fritz put off his attack, it was our turn in the morning and fritz knew it, patrols reported the enemy moving back all along the line. My head still pained, and I vaguely remember getting hit with a rifle butt back at Cheppy. [September] -27: We knew not what the day had in store for us, but wet and half frozen we welcomed the dawn. Our returning patrols reported the enemy backed up, and pretty solidly organized in anew position. “H” hour set at 5:30. Over again in the uncertain light of dawn as it gets lighter the artillery fire increases. We can barely see fritzs new position ahead. We open up with rifle fire. Fritz cuts loose with every thing he has. There is’nt much cover, so we rush
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[page 90] The enemy took advantage of our rush, by thining our ranks with a deadly machine-gun fire. We suffered heavily in that rush, and once again I came through a tight place without a scratch. We gained the trench, and what a scrap it was. Prisoners were forgotten, men fought with a blind fury that likened them to animals. Weapons that were swept away in the contact as the opposing forces met were forgotten, fists were used as freely as rifle butts and bayonets. There was very little firing, all hand to hand fighting and every man to himself. I remember seeing “Dip Hand” swing his rifle around his head, and then connect with a squareheads skull. Iron was down in the trench chasing a hun with his bayonet. They were both running at top speed, but the hun managed to keep about a foot space between his back and the point of Irons bayonet, I ended the race with my 45. A look of reproach came over Irons face as the hun went down, I had trespassed on his hunting ground, and shot his game, he resented it. The trench was pretty well cleaned out, the majority of the huns had fell back. Lieut. Leahy ran around the corner of a trench, looking for more game. He ran right into a squarehead going full speed. They crashed together and went down, the impact knocked the breath from both, of them
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[photo of deceased soldiers] Deadman’s hill - Verdun 1916. PART OF DEATH VALLEY - N.W. of VERDUN
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[page 91] The “loot” recovered, but the hun didnt - heart failure I think. We finally realized that we were making too much work for the burial squad, so we began taking prisoners. We sent several large batches to the rear, then started forward. No real resistance was met, except spasmodic bursts of artillery and machine-gun fire. We were crossing death valley, the scene of the 1916 battle of Verdun. Patches of bleached bones were scattered all over the field rusted rifles were laying beside some of them, carroded cartridges still in the chambers. Some of the bones were covered with tatered shoes, or parts of leather leggins. At many places rusted rifles were stuck in the ground by the bayonet, marking the grave of a soldier. All sorts of weather beaten equippment was scattered all over the field, some French-some German. Plenty of souvenirs, an ideal place for the tourists after the war. The town of Very was seen ahead. It was being attacked by troops covering the left of our sector. We arrived just as the town was captured. Very was in a valley, and the hill ahead shielded us from the German fire. But we knew as soon as we reached the crest of the hill, we would run into a hot fire. The enemy artillery was already bombarding it, the machine-guns were
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[page 92] quiet, they were waiting for us to show ourselves over the crest of the hill. We had outran our artillery, and were consequently without their support. We were ordered to dig in and hold on till the artillery came up within range. A rather large dugout was in sight, so we get ready to take some prisoners. We threw down a few smoke bombs, but no one came out. Chuck put on a gas mask, and went in to investigate. He came out and reported that it was an under ground saloon. “Rosey” Reynolds, Pat Whitey, Iron, Sully, and myself go in and fan out the smoke. A regular bar looms in sight, from out of the haze of smoke. Pat turns on a faucet and gets a glass of amber colored liquid with foam on it. It looks and smells like beer. We are taking no chances, so Pat goes out and borrows a prisoner from one of the guards. Urban who speaks bosche language, tells fritz to drink some of the beer. He did, he started on his fourth glass, when Pat pushed him away. His thirst was too great, as we did not know the capacity of the keg. We watched fritz anxiously for about five minutes, he did not die, so we began a celebration. They can’t fight but they certainly know how to drink beer, as our prisoner was constantly risking his life by approaching the keg uninvited. We drank one on Hindy, one on Ludy, several on Wilhem, then a few to each others health. By this time a
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[page 93] casual observer would think, that Urban and the Bosche prisoner were long lost brothers, judjing from the conversation. We took a few more drinks then started out to resume the grim business of war. Our artillery finally gets in range, and puts over a bombardment. We begin the advance, We reach the heights and run into the open gates of hell. The earth was a seething mass of exploding shells, machine-gun bullets ripped and tore the earth, in streams. My plattoon felling the bombardment, McDonalds Squad was wiped out by the exploding of one well placed shell. It seemed impossible to cross those heights and live. Each man had his head down between his shoulders, running in a crouched position as if headed toward a storm. Those that came through found theirselves in the valley. The Germans were entrenched on the top of the next hill and they poured a withering fire into the valley. The hill had to be charged and charged soon or we would have been wiped out completely. What a heart-breaking task it was, after that terrible ordeal on the hill in our rear. We had fully five-hundred yards to charge, all up hill and in the face of a murderous machine-gun fire. We started--I never reached the crest of the hill--If I live to be amillion I will never forget hill
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[page 94] 281. To add to our misfortune, the enemy artillery began crashing high explosive shells into the valley. O’Connell was struck in the chest by a three inch shell. As it struck his body it exploded. He never knew what hit him. “Red” Williams on my right waved to me and started over toward me. He advanced about ten feet, a shell exploded just in front of him, I saw one of my best pals disapear in a cloud of smoke and flame. There was a road on the side of the hill, we gained it and and the embankment on the far side sheltered us from the enemy fire. Our lines were too thin to successfully carry on the advance, so we waited on reinforcements. I could not get Williams off my mind, and as the enemy artillery slackened fire, I took three men to go out to where I last saw him, hoping that he was only wounded. It was as I expected, we found a mangled body, the identification tags reading-- A.H.Williams. We placed his body in a shell hole, filling it in, then placing his rifle over the grave with the tags plainly visible. With a last look at the grave of a real hero we start out for revenge. Reinforcements had come up, and as the enemy artillery was seeking our hiding place, we decided to attack. As I write I am in a hospital, and all this is from memory, as much as I can
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[page 95] remember-my trip through hell. Sherman was right, but in his day, they did not have, gas, trench-mortors, machine-guns, high-explosives shells, or shells almost as big as a man. We were attacking hill 281, half way between the crest of the hill and the road, was a little shed dug into the side of the hill. I had been hit in the leg with something, at the time I did not know what. My leg was getting heavy and I had to drag it after me, although I felt no pain. I gained the top of the shed and sat down. Men were being killed in bunches, but still they moved forward with grim determination. Machine-guns were thinning our ranks at an alarming rate, it looked as though the attack would fail. I learned later that it did not fail, and that no prisoners were taken. As I sat on the shed trying to stop the flow of blood from my leg, I heard a shell whistling louder than the rest, I knew that it was coming close, so I lay flat on the shed to escape the flying pieces that would follow the explosion. The shell struck along side of me, went through the roof of the shed and exploded. The roof went up, and I had the pleasant sensation of flying. I struck the ground and the lights went out. When I awoke it was dark, my stomach pained and I ached all over. It was drizzling and cold, I was stiff all over and
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[page 96] could barely move. I heard the guns booming in the distance, I gradually remembered, and I knew that I was out of the battle. I put my hand to my stomach, and drew it away wet with blood. One thing certain I wounded in two places, I did not know how bad, I felt so funny I did not care. I went to sleep again, I remember of waking and going to sleep several times. One time I awoke some one was bending over me, they poured some strong rhum down my throat, I nearly choked, but it warmed me. I must have been delerious as they heard me mumbling in the dark. I recognized the red cross on their arms as they put me on a stretcher, and I went to sleep again. I arrived at the first aid station, the doc in charge ordered me removed to the hospital at once. Still I felt no pain. I was put in an ambulance and rushed over a shell torn road to the hospital. I was not alone as I heard some one groaning along side of me. I arrived at the hospital, ether and another sleep. Awoke in a bed with white sheets on it, a figure in white was bending over me, a nurse with hot chocolate. This was certainly heaven after Two days and nights of hell. I began asking questions but soon learned that I was not allowed to talk. The next day, the doctor gave me a small piece of iron, saying that was all he could find in me.
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[page 97] He also told me that if it had entered a little more to the right, I would have been a case for the burial squad. As it was I could be assured of a speedy recovery, as I was suffering from loss of blood more than anything. My days in the hospital were days of pleasant rest, and as the battle was still raging I told the doc I was able to leave, and make room for the stream of wounded men that was pouring in daily. [October] -22: After riding around in trucks all day, I came upon the company, just in time as they were going yp to the trenches that night. I was greeted with suspicion by my friends, as I had been reported killed, and they imagined that a ghost was in their midst. I learned the casualties suffered by H company, they were appaling, and many a good friend lay out there somewhere buried in some shell hole. [October] -23: Myself with four other sergeants acting as advance party, arrived in the [Ronvaux]-[Watronville] sector. The regiment was coming up to-morrow night, and we were to familiarize ourselves with the sector, so as we could guide them in. The French were holding the line, and as they learned we had just returned from the Argonne battle, we had everything we wanted.
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[page 98] The cooks were to give us specially prepared dishes, and the most comfortable dugout was at our disposal. I had been appointed a candidate for a commission before entering the line, and I expected an order to send me to school, daily. This sector was the same as the ordinary rest sector, all torn to pieces by fierce battles some time in the past, but now strangely quiet, a contrast from the shell blasted landscape. Not more than a dozen shells come over a day, unless something unusual happens, then probably two dozen come over. Our line runs between the villages of watronville and [Ronvaux], hence the name of the sector. The German line is doubtful as there is a marsh in front of us, and no appearance of the enemy line. The inteligance report says the enemy main body is located about three kilos back, while there are several outposts located in the swamp. I suppose I will get an order to patrol the swamp before long. 11-P.M. Met the company two kilos back on the road, and distributed them over the sector without mishap. [October] -24: All quiet on the line. 10-A.M. Received an order to report to school, I am leaving to-night for a three month course. Shook hands with all the boys, I would probally never see them again, as I would be assigned to a differant organization, after school was
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[page 99] over. I did not want to go, several of them asked me to turn down the offer and stay with the company. I had no choice as my orders read report immeadiately. [October] - 26 Arrived at the Infantry candidate school located at [La Valbonne Ain]. It was formely a French cavalry school, and was an excellent camp. The Barracks were two stories high, built of concrete, and very acceptable after living in damp dugouts. The course was strenuous, including drills, manouevers, inspections, class work, map reading and drawing, nomenclature of various types of arms, and trench war-fare. It was the survival of the fittest, and each week our class became smaller and smaller, as some unfortunate candidates failed to pass the weekly examination. [November] -11: The armistice is signed, and the war is won. We proceed to celebrate, we break all sorts of golden rules, and expect to get run out of school in the morning, but as the war is over a commission does not interest me-------------I WANT TO GO HOME. [November] -12: We still carry on at school, but the old pep is lacking, the war is over and the boys, have forgotten all about commissions.
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[page 100] [February] -26: School has closed, I passed the final examination and was commissioned second lieutenent of infantry. As an added attraction, and as a fitting close to the school, several of the boys are to be decorated for deeds done in the past. The battallion is lined up on the parade grounds, a detachment of French troops on their left. The American band played, The Star Spangle Banner, followed by the French band playing their national anthem, then eight names were read, and commanded to move to the front of the battallion, I was one of the eight. As each medal was pinned on a mans breast, the citation was read. The American colonel distributed the American war cross, while an French general did the honors with the French decoration. The man on my left received the French cross, then a kiss on each cheek by the bewhiskered French general. I was next, as he pinned the cross on me, and read the citation, I was seized with a violent coughing spell. The bewildered general began slapping me on the back, completely forgetting the osculation excercises, much to my relief, the man on my right was less fortunate, two resounding smacks smote the air, and a look of amusement spread over the faces of the assembled battallion.
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[page 101] CONCLUSION My experiences have been many, and thrilling, and I would not trade them for a million, neither would I go through them again for ten million---unless----- necessary. I was assigned to the 324th motor train commanding the 55th company. I traveled over France with them and through the occupied parts of Germany. I have neglected to keep an accurate account of my wanderings after the armistice, but my experiences have been so tame in comparison, that I could not find interest enough to record them. I eventually found myself at Brest, and on board the [USS Siboney] homeward bound. As our ship sailed out of the harbor, I turned to take a last look at France. I do not intend to see France again, but there will always linger the memory of unparalleled adventure, and of friends who have made the supreme sacrifice. As I turn and face the west, a feeling comes over me that is hard to discribe, because somewhere over that horizon lies America and --- HOME. THE END.
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[page 102] DATA Came over on the English ship Demosthenese Crossed the channel on the English ship Nervina, Went home on the American ship [USS Siboney]. Countries visited: - England --- France --- Belgium --- Italy --- Alsace --- Lorraine --- Germany --- Monaco. Towns, Cities, Villages. # Air raids. Destroyed by shell fire. Le Mans Liverpool Winchester South Hampton [Le Havre] Eu Embreville [air raid] Neuchapl [air raid] Carlonville [air raid] Donoux [air raid] Wesserling [air raid] Kruth [air raid] Felleringen [air raid] Moosch [air raid] Thann [air raid] Saulxures [air raid] Gerardmer [air raid] Epinal [air raid] Nancy [air raid] Paris [air raid] Toul [air raid] Verdun [destroyed by shell fire] Coblenze Lyon Aubreville [destroyed by shell fire] Abbeyville [air raid] Auzeville [destroyed by shell fire] [La Valbonne] Corsieux [air raid] Molliere [destroyed by shell fire] Cheppy [destroyed by shell fire] Very [destroyed by shell fire] Gondrecourt [air raid] Dijon St. Dijea Neufchateau Sommaine Lunneville [air raid] [Domremy] Montluel The lost city [destroyed by shell fire] Nice Monte Carlo St. Aignan
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[back cover]
Details
| Title | My Days in France by George O. Vonland - May 1918 - February 1919 |
| Creator | Vonland, George O. |
| Source | Vonland, George O. My Days in France by George O. Vonland. May 1918 - February 1919. George Vonland Collection. A2291. Missouri History Museum, St. Louis, Missouri. |
| Description | <p>George O. Vonland wrote this diary, titled My Days in France, based on his experiences as part of Company H, 138th Infantry, 35th Division. The diary spans the entirety of Vonland's overseas service and includes descriptions of daily life in the trenches, patrols in no man's land, and accounts of both the Battle of Saint-Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Vonland was awarded the Croix de Guerre and the Distinguished Service Cross for heroism in action during a raid at Hilsenfirst, France in July of 1918. Vonland was also injured during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. This version of his diary was typed from the original in May of 1920.</p> |
| Subject LCSH | United States. Army. Division, 35th; World War, 1914-1918--War work--Women; World War, 1914-1918--Women; Operational rations (Military supplies); United States. Army--Aviation; World War, 1914-1918--African Americans; Artillery; Gas masks; United States. |
| Subject Local | WWI; World War I; Company H, 138th Infantry; RMS Olympic; No man’s land; Patrols; Wright, William M.; 27th Bavarian Regiment; Battle of Saint-Mihiel; Meuse-Argonne Offensive; Vauguois; USS Siboney |
| Site Accession Number | A2291 |
| Contributing Institution | Missouri History Museum |
| Copy Request | Transmission or reproduction of items on these pages beyond those allowed by fair use requires the written permission of the Missouri History Museum: 314-746-4510 |
| Rights | The text and images contained in this collection are intended for research and educational use only. Duplication of any of these images for commercial use without express written consent is expressly prohibited. Contact the Missouri History Museum's Permissions Office at 314-746-4511 to obtain written consent. |
| Date Original | 1918-1919 |
| Language | English |