® 
 
 304 
 
 
Copyright^? 
 
 ^04^ 
 
 COHRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
 V-i'vj" 
 
Copyright, August, 1919 
 by Joseph Glass 
 
 Commanuay-Roth Co., Inc. ^*(rB&^ Printers, New y 
 
 [3] 
 
Gapt. Robert V. Malum. 
 
 M 
 

 
 
 
 
 The Story of 
 
 1 
 
 BATTERY D 
 
 304th FIELD ARTILLERY 
 
 SEPTEMBER 1917 
 
 TO 
 
 MAY 1919 
 
 WRITTEN BY THE FOLLOWING MEN OF THE BATTERY 
 
 Corporal JOSEPH GLASS 
 
 BATTERY HISTORIAN ' 
 
 Corporal HENRY L. MILLER 
 Private OSMUND O'BRIEN 
 
 
 
 
 
 [5] 
 

 IN MEMORIAM 
 
 THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY 
 
 DEDICATED TO OUR GALLANT 
 
 COMRADES WHO LOST THEIR 
 
 LIVES IN SERVICE WITH THE 
 
 BATTERY IN FRANCE. THE 
 
 MEMORY OF THEIR SACRIFICE 
 
 WILL ALWAYS BE AN 
 
 INSPIRATION 
 
 TO US 
 
 
 THE MEMORIAL MEDAL 
 
 : 
 
 THIS MEDAL STRUCK IN BRONZE WAS SENT TO THE 
 
 FAMILY OF EVERY MAN IN THE 304th F. A. WHO 
 
 LOST HIS LIFE IN ACTION. ON THE REVERSE IS THE 
 
 INSCRIPTION "TO COMMEMORATE THE GLORIOUS 
 
 DEAD OF THE 304th FIELD ARTILLERY 
 
 IN THE GREAT WAR 
 
 FOR PEACE." 
 
 AUG I5i9ly 
 
 [C] 
 
HONOR ROLL 
 
 THE FOLLOWING MEN OF THE BATTERY 
 DIED IN FRANCE: 
 
 Sergeant George H. Weinhauer 
 
 Wounded in action near Chery Chartreuve, September 
 3rd, 1918. I Med on way to Base Hospital, September c>. 
 1918. 
 
 Private Rudolph J. Bakkex 
 
 Wounded in action near Pont a Lime, Argonne Forest, 
 October 2, 1918. Died on way to Field Hospital same day. 
 
 Private Axel T. Boon 
 
 Died of disease. February 25, 1919, at Evacuation Hos- 
 pital No. 11. 
 
 Private Otto Bryant 
 
 Killed in action near Chery Chartreuve, August 23, 1918. 
 
 Private Edward Kalf 
 
 Wounded in action near Chery Chartreuve, August U:S, 
 1918. Died in hospital September 1, PUS. 
 
 Private Fred C. Lincoln 
 
 Killed in action near Vanxcere, September 10, 1918. 
 
 Private Earl H. McDevitt 
 
 Wounded in action near Vanxcere, September 10, PUS. 
 Died in hospital September 11, PUS. 
 
 Private Michael Pessalano 
 
 Killed in action near Yauxcere, September 10, 1918. 
 
 Private Antonio Yannini 
 
 Killed in action near Cherv Chartreuve, August 23, PUS. 
 
 m 
 
I'vt. Earl McDevitt. 
 
 Prt. Fred 0. Lincoln. 
 
 Put. Antonio Yannini 
 
 [S] 
 
y 
 
 . ' 
 
 Pvt. Edward Kalf. 
 
 4m -' 
 
 Jot George II. Weinht 
 
 Pvt. Axel T. Bi 
 
 [9] 
 
1 '■' 
 f t.. \. . 
 
 V, •: 
 
 u 
 
 tfr-^>. 
 
 ' 1 
 
 ^^r'--.<~- ~ : T* -■?** 
 
 « 
 
 
 Put. It iid d1 ph Bakken. 
 
 Pit. Michael Pessalano. 
 
 1 
 
 
 Pirt. o/fo Bryant. 
 
 [10] 
 
LIST OF WOUNDED 
 
 THE FOLLOWING MEN OF THE BATTERY WERE 
 WOUNDED IN ACTION: 
 
 Corporal Clarence E. Kicker 
 Private Joseph Agnelli 
 Private Arthur W. Claviter 
 Private Charles J. Prid 
 Private John J. Hornung 
 Private Olaus Johnson 
 Private John Meehan 
 Private John R. Parsons 
 Private George Tansey 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 HIS is my farewell to the men of Battery D whom I 
 had the honor to command through our campaign in 
 France. I know they did their best, and they do 
 serve praise for the record made. 
 There is a warm bond of sympathy between all men who 
 shared the perils together, and only they can realize how this 
 sympathy and fellowship softened the hardships, and hardened 
 the nerves for any dangers that came onr way. Beyond all 
 praise, and beyond the honors of military decorations, is the 
 exalted spirit of the soldier who serves the flag in battle. In 
 darkness and storm, and the horrors of war, it is this spirit 
 that helps us to carry on. Praise for the soldier means little 
 to him ; it is not necessary. He is conscious of this spirit, and 
 that suffices. So nothing need be said by me of the men of 
 Battery D in the way of praise. They and I fully understand 
 one another. 
 
 It was our good chance that our Battery was the first of 
 our regiment to fire on the enemy at the front, and that it also 
 fired the last shells in the Division on the afternoon of Novem- 
 ber 10th across the Meuse. General Briggs said that our 
 Battery was the first mounted organization of the American 
 Army to cross the River Vesle. These facts are interesting 
 even if they justify no special distinction for us. They do show, 
 however, that we were ready when the orders came. 
 
 For our dead, and the mothers and kin who still grieve for 
 them, nothing can be said. They have paid and are still pay- 
 ing for our Victory. I know what it means. My devoted 
 mother wore out her dear heart with anxiety and suspense. 
 She saw me come back safely and then passed away; as if it 
 were all finished. So to these mothers and kin of our dead I 
 would say that I know their hearts. 
 
 But now the order comes "Sound Off," the band plays, and 
 the world moves; and we now know that it moves forward to 
 the Peace we fought for. 
 
 ROBERT V. MAHON, 
 Captain 304th F. A., 
 
 Commanding Battery D. 
 
 [12] 
 
The Story of 'Battery 1). 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 CAMP UPTON. 
 
 September, 1917, to April 22, 1918. 
 
 BRILLIANT Saturday afternoon in the latter part of September, 
 
 1 1)1 T. found the firsl men assigned to the :'.(l-ttli Field Artillery 
 
 ,, assembled in their new quarters, barracks J35 and J54, on 3rd 
 
 tl^/J&el Avenue, near li'tli Street. Like so many immigrants they were 
 ranged around the big barracks rooms, making themselves comfortable on their 
 big bundles of new army possessions. Officers were busy among the men, look- 
 ing for specialists in different lines, such as musicians for the band, prospective 
 mess sergeants, mechanics and cooks. Almost immediately the crowd was 
 further split into separate groups, each group to constitute the nucleus of a 
 battery. Batteries 10 and F were assigned to the upper floor of J35, while 
 1) Battery was installed on the lower floor, which contained the mess hall as 
 well. 
 
 The men had arrived in the camp several days previous to this, following a 
 hearty send-off from New York, many demonstrations of good-will from the 
 folks along the railroad route, and the entry into the sprawling, half-finished 
 camp, amid the cheers and jibes of the workers and vendors of every color, 
 kind and description. There had followed several feverish days taken up with 
 the mustering in, medical inspections, and the issuing of clothing and equip- 
 ment. Then the contingents had been split into separate groups, this group 
 designated 306th Infantry, this one 305tb Machine Gun Battalion, this one 
 304th Field Artillery, and each group marched off to its permanent organiza- 
 tion. 
 
 Up to this point the men had not found army existence the physically 
 strenuous, disciplined life they had anticipated. Outside of considerable con- 
 fusion their time had been mostly their own and work had been the exception 
 lather than the rule. But this happy condition was rudely altered on the fol- 
 lowing Monday morning, when there appeared on the bulletin board the new 
 training schedule. Reveille at . r > A. M. ; inspection at 7; drill from 7:30 to 
 11:45; afternoon drill from 1 to ."> ; retreat at 5:30. And that schedule was 
 rigidly adhered to. Despite groans and growls and kicks and howls, despite 
 many a vanishing waist-line and double chin, the work of making Battery I) 
 physically fit went steadily on. Each day was just a round of drill and hike, 
 and hike and drill, and then some one higher up conceived the brilliant idea of 
 having the rookies extract the numerous stumps from the camp area. Ordin- 
 
 [13] 
 
arily work of this kind would have furnished an excellent opportunity for 
 rest from the strenuous drill and hike — but not with these military task- 
 masters on the job. With more officers than one could keep track of, in addi- 
 tion to the three regular army sergeants, standing over the men like so many 
 Simon Legrees, the stumps came out thick and fast. This was before the day 
 of the battery non-commissioned officer, so that many a worthy rookie who 
 later would have been insulted at the suggestion of his handling a pick or 
 shovel, here pitched in and did his bit, goaded into further effort by the 
 beloved. Kershaw, who was here, there aud everywhere, with his choice 
 regular army vocabulary. It would probably be a difficult task to locate 
 Kershaw's worst enemy from among the host who would claim the honor. 
 During these days Kershaw extracted the last degree of pleasure out of 
 "riding" little Al Murphy, who was manfully trying to stand up under the 
 strain of a rapidly receding waist-line. After several months of tumultuous 
 relations with the rest of the men, Kershaw finally faded out of the life of 
 Battery D. 
 
 At this time Lieutenant MacDougall was a member of Battery D. Mac 
 Dougall! The mere mention of the name was enough to start the sweat on 
 any rookie. Twice around the big double field at double time was MacDougall's 
 idea of a warming-up gallop, and as Louis Hyman, Charlie Krause and several 
 others would come limping along in the rear after one of these performances 
 they never failed to draw forth a few sarcastic remarks for their failure to 
 '"carry on." Then would come the boxing bouts. Nothing less than blood and 
 plenty of it, or a cold knockout would satisfy MacDougall. Next a song- 
 rehearsal, usually that splendid old ballad, "When We Get Our Materiel." 
 Then some more drilling and finally a quick-time hike back to the barracks 
 to the cadence of MacDougall's snappy, cut short, "one, two, three, four " 
 Lieutenant MacDougall's fame as an exponent of the strenuous life soon spread 
 through the regiment, and in course of time, even through the division and 
 beyond. 
 
 After four weeks of this strenuous physical course, a new schedule went 
 into effect. Lectures were to occupy a considerable part of the day. Lieuten- 
 ant Eberstadt lectured on the materiel that the battery would use, while Lieu- 
 tenant Richard gave several discourses on the care of the horse. Gun-drill 
 also became part of the curriculum, and the command "cannoneers, mount!" 
 "change posts !" and "rear of your pieces, fall in !" soon became familiar sounds. 
 
 It was at this time that the night non-commissioned officers' school was 
 started. The captain generally presided at these gatherings and usually 
 favored the men with a very long lecture. The Drill Regulations was digested 
 from cover to cover, especially those parts that bore on guard duty and mili- 
 tary discipline and courtesy. In addition, special subjects were assigned to 
 certain men for discussion. One very notable address was that by Sergeant 
 Harry Gordon, late of the regular army, in which he initiated the men into 
 the mysteries of the gas mask. As he referred to the different "mechamicals" 
 in the box of the mask, and went on to warn the men against allowing "salima" 
 to get into the mouthpiece, even the officers threatened to lose some of their 
 reserve. Every one was impressed, and wished that Gordon might have the 
 opportunity to apply his knowledge on the battlefields of France, but unhap- 
 
 [U] 
 
First Platoon Overseas. 
 
 pily, lie developed ear-trouble ;il the Inst moment, so thai he was unable to 
 hear the call to France at all, as result of which the depot brigade at Camp 
 Upton has had the benefit of that wisdom ever since. 
 
 Battery I) was favored by still another regular army man, one Elgar, an 
 alleged supply sergeant. Elgar hung around for about two weeks, during 
 which time he furnished the comedy element for the battery, particularly as 
 the butt for John Murphy's jokes. After several vain attempts to stand on 
 his dignity, and to assert his authority. Elgar threw up the sponge and de- 
 parted for parts where his talents would he more appreciated. 
 
 The second contingent of I) Battery arrived in the camp on October 10th 
 and was merged with the original battery about a week later. About the same 
 time the battery moved to the new artillery section, just completed and occu- 
 pied the entire barracks building on the northeast corner of 4th Avenue and 
 13th Street. As the battery continued to grow the overflow building on the 
 opposite side of l?.th Street was also taken over. 
 
 Among the men of the second contingent was David Jones, one of Amer- 
 ica's foremost vaudeville stars. Jones claimed to be in very poor health, and 
 those who slept near him testified to the terrible spasms he would have each 
 night, in one of which it was feared he would pass away. But Jones was an 
 actor, and considering the circumstances no one knew just what to think. 
 Many thought that a clew to Jones' case might be furnished by a story he 
 told of one of the recruits of the :>(>7th Infantry, the colored regiment which 
 was training in the camp. This recruit was seen snatching up bits of paper 
 from the ground, examining them and throwing them down again with the 
 exclamation, "Dat's not it! Dat's not it! Dat's not it!" After several days 
 of this he was put under observation and marked for discharge. As his dis- 
 
 [15] 
 
Second Platoon Oversells. 
 
 charge papers were handed to him, he gazed at them for several moments and 
 then exclaimed, "Pat's it!" Jones played at the different camp Y. M. 0. A.'s 
 nightly, and gave numerous highly appreciated shows in the battery mess-hall, 
 but as the season waned and the time for leaving approached, he found his way 
 into the base hospital, and so passed out of the military life. 
 
 All this was the comedy element, which played its important part as a 
 diversion from the strenuous routine of preparation which went relentlessly 
 on. A battery spirit and a battery organization began to develop and in this 
 the non-commissioned officers played a big part. First Sergeant Oscar L. 
 French was a happy contrast to the other regular army men. Full of energy 
 and enthusiasm, French was behind everything that tended to the well-being 
 of the men and of the battery. Other non-commissioned officers were appointed 
 by the captain. Among the first appointments were Lowell, Green, Gleason, 
 Koen, Munday, Pons, Manderson, and Ghelardi. It is a fact that men coming 
 direct from civil life find the arbitrary military authority, even of a non- 
 commissioned officer, very irksome, so it is inevitable that the popularity of 
 many of the newly appointed men took a sudden drop on their being "made." 
 "Barney" Lowell was one of the few exceptions to this rule, as no one could 
 meet the searching gaze of Barney's honest blue eyes and retain even the trace 
 of resentment. One of the very first appointments was that of Antonio Joachim 
 Simas as supply sergeant. All day long Joachim would sit in solitary splen- 
 dor in the little supply room, while his satellites busied themselves with the 
 supply work. Acting merely as the judge, and the court of last appeal, Simas 
 would meet every appeal for new equipment with the overworked army "out 
 of luck." As the work of the supply department multiplied, Simas ceased to 
 function properly and was removed, or resigned, and the efficient Clackner 
 
 [16] 
 
took the post. As proof thai "you can't keep a good man down," however, 
 Simas came back strong as a combatant member of the battery when the real 
 test came. 
 
 As the tire company of the regiment, Battery ]> had many opportunities 
 to prove its speed in getting into action. Several night alarms were turned 
 in, aud on these occasions the men had hardly scrambled into their clothes and 
 lined up outside, before the lightning hose cart squad, in charge of Corporal 
 Koen, came dashing around the corner of 13th Street, dragging the cart behind 
 them. None of these night calls required the efforts of I> Battery, but on the 
 occasion of the infirmary tire the battery had plenty of opportunity to show its 
 mettle. The alarm was given as the men were going to mess after a hard 
 morning's work. The whole infirmary building on the opposite side of 4th 
 Avenue seemed to be ablaze as the men swarmed out of the barracks. Without 
 hesitation, the men quickly rounded up the tire-buckets from the neighboring 
 buildings and started after the blaze. Bucket lines were established and such 
 excellent work was done that the blaze was effectively held in check until the 
 arrival of the cam]) firemen, when the blaze was finally extinguished. Several 
 of the D Battery fire-fighters were well drenched, notably Lieutenant Fher 
 stadt and "Bobby" Taylor. 
 
 Athletics, of course, played an important pari in the work, and in the 
 different competitions the battery made a very creditable showing. In the 
 regimental athletic meet I> battery proved an easy winner, with such stars as 
 Gordon, Ghelardi, and Andrew Nelson. Interest was further stimulated when 
 the popular Ruggiero made the divisional football team. A bo.xiirg competi- 
 tion was held with E Battery which resulted in a tie. Vincer anil Ruggiero 
 won for I». while Propp ami Von Hess lost to Oreter ami Goodwin of E bat- 
 tery. The baseball team, under the management of Sergeant Tons, had 
 defeated E battery 16 to :; and lost to (' S to ."i when events brought the 
 season to an abrupt close. An amusing feature of the baseball season was 
 the effort of "Bob" Freedinan to displace Joachim Simas as first sacker of the 
 battery team. With much talk and more noise. Freedinan, nevertheless, never 
 had a chance against Simas. with his excellent all around work, in addition 
 to the halo of his sergeant's stripes. 
 
 Near the end of November a new system of training was instituted. Lieu- 
 tenant Eberstadt was in charge of the battery at this time. Captain Malum 
 having gone to the Fort Sill artillery school of tire. The battery was divided 
 into three groups — cannoneers, drivers, and battery commander's detail, and 
 the familiar order of the day became "Cannoneers outside; drivers in the 
 mess-hall; B. ('. detail in the overflow." 
 
 Lieutenant Richard conducted the work of the cannoneers, ami all day long 
 could be heard his "Aiming point, flagpole on Tower Hill," followed by the 
 inevitable "Aiming point identified." The mysteries of the sights ami of the 
 bubbles became second nature to the men assigned to this work, prominent 
 among whom were Ronayne, Cross, Kotrba, McFadden and Munday. 
 
 As the tables of organization at this time designated the 304th as a 
 motor-drawn regiment, the training of the drivers had principally to do with 
 the workings of the gasoline engine. At the start the instruction was con- 
 ducted by Lieutenant MacDougall, ably assisted by Murray and McDonough. 
 
 [IT] 
 
. 
 
 
 
 
 ^■■j. 
 
 •r"? 1 . §P' &^t 
 
 &B 
 
 
 
 £^^^^k 
 
 (m(PP^^^!!ws^^^^^^*^^^^Ww^ss| 
 
 
 ifB^m^R. Ah 
 
 ■■- 
 
 B*P* j -*w* J »!Ji 
 
 >liTO ~ 
 
 — : .^ 
 
 Third Platoon Overseas. 
 
 The lieutenant instituted a little fad of his own, that of breaking the mon- 
 otony of the day by a cross-country run every hour or so, much to the disgust 
 of the easy-going mechanicians. In December Lieutenant MacDougall was 
 transferred to Headquarters Company, and the course was taken over by sev- 
 eral new lieutenants, one after another, and seemed to lag considerably. 
 
 The B. C. Detail instruction was conducted by Lieutenant Tweedy, and 
 proved to be intensely interesting to those assigned to this branch of the 
 work. The instruction covered such subjects as scouting, map-making, com- 
 putation of firing data, signaling, and liaison. In part lectures, and part work 
 in the open, with just enough of competition to keep the interest at high pitch, 
 splendid progress was made in this branch of the work : so much so that 
 1) battery's detail came to be generally recognized as the best in the regiment. 
 In the B. C. work proper, Sergeant Ostertag, with an uncanny aptitude for 
 work of this kind, stood out as the leader, Avhile Altman excelled at the signal 
 work. 
 
 On December 7th the battery received a large number of new men, a con- 
 signment that contained all kinds of talent. Such men as Glass, Schapiro, 
 Osternian, Aigeltinger, Grandin, Noxon, Petchtle, McDonough, Machby, Freed- 
 man and Talbot were bound to make their presence felt in any company. The 
 B. C. Detail was the greatest gainer, with such men as Glass, Schapiro, Oster- 
 man, Petchtle and Noxon. 
 
 Through the bitter days of the coldest winter Long Island has ever known, 
 the training went steadily on. Iiifles were issued necessitating a wearisome 
 round of aiming and sighting drills and practice at the manual of arms. Gas 
 masks were issued, not enough to go around, but enough to practice with, and 
 drills were held, usually conducted by Lieutenant Norris. Considerable enter- 
 
 [18] 
 

 .*• 
 
 ft 
 
 g £► ' § 
 
 
 
 
 
 l5*«fv* 
 
 iL^i» '*^ ^^fv^ '-^- ^pt* ,, % 
 
 b/^S^K? 
 
 *. J 
 
 Wi t 
 
 4 
 \ ■ 
 
 
 T .*^ \ " ' 
 
 
 
 [ . ' 
 
 - 
 
 ^iv ^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 ! 
 
 Lbs 
 
 H 
 
 •— --* | 
 
 
 - "-- 
 
 J 
 
 ^^i 
 
 
 
 Fourth I'liilimii ()i 
 
 taiument was furnished by the innovations in the gas drill, for example, Pat 
 Oilman's attempts to pass on the command "Send two picks a+id five shovels 
 to shelter aumber five." The combination of the gas mask and Pat's dialect 
 was too much for the next man. 
 
 The best guarantee the men had against the cold of these bitter days 
 was in the person of Louis Ilymau. Old Ilyinan had charge of the various 
 furnaces. Plat feel and broken arches had made it impossible for him to keep 
 up with the other men in the drills and hikes, and he had been made permanent 
 room orderly. Hyman took the many jibes about his "ducking" the real work 
 good naturedly and insisted he was anxious to do his bit to the best of his 
 ability. Transferred to the infantry at the last moment, his splendid work 
 as a doughboy is testified to by all who had a chance to judge, lie now lies 
 buried at the furthest point of American advance on the Aisne. the victim 
 of a German sniper's bullet on the night the division was relieved from that 
 fiery front. 
 
 Where a large number of men are living together in this manner there are 
 bound to be a thousand and one little happenings of a purely personal nature 
 which the men like to recall. And 1> battery was no exception to this general 
 rule. There was Morris < ireenbauni's "Eight front into line" while drilling 
 a single squad in the N. ('. 0. competition; and Harry Green's unending 
 "Seinel, Shinunel, close op, close op" while on the march; and Joyce, or -lyce, 
 as he called himself, the recruit from Devens, who would find his shoes and 
 lose his hat. then find his hat and lose his shoes and coat, until, in despair, he 
 was shipped off to Camp Gordon; and Klesmer and his cousin Kleinberg, a 
 vaudeville team in themselves; and others almost without number. 
 
 Towards the end of February rumors of big events filled the air. The 
 
captain was coming back and tlie battery was to fire on the rifle range. The 
 two events occurred almost simultaneously, so that the captain had hardly 
 arrived before he was leading the battery off to the range. The weather was 
 miserable, cold and rainy, and the range was a sea of mud. Very creditable 
 scores were made by the men of the battery, however, highest among which 
 were those of Philpot, Cross, Lambe and Taylor. 
 
 Near the end of March the battery received a new consignment of men, 
 mainly from Buffalo and vicinity. Outstanding among these men were Mayer 
 and Marshall. Mayer, on account of his magnificent bearing and appearance; 
 Marshall, because he claimed he wanted to go with the infantry. The new 
 men received a very strenuous course of drill under Lowell and Pons and 
 were very soon fitted into the general scheme of things. 
 
 And then, one day, like lightning out of a clear sky, came the big news. 
 The division was going over. Lieutenant Eberstadt, with a sense for the 
 dramatic, made the momentous announcement to a crowded mess-hall. Many 
 degrees of emotion may have been observed, Abie Skoler, for one, emitting 
 copious tears. Passes were immediately granted to all of the men and for 
 several days all work was at a standstill. But it soon developed that the 
 artillery would not go just .yet. One after the other the different units of the 
 division followed the engineers out of the camp, until only the artillery re- 
 mained. Final!}' the order came for the artillery to move. There followed a 
 feverish week end of preparation. Many new men were enrolled and fully 
 equipped, inspections were held, and battery property packed and shipped. 
 
 The last day at Upton was a miserably cold, rainy Sunday, April 21st, 
 but not even the mud and the downpour could discourage the friends and 
 relatives of the men who had telephoned home of the impending departure. 
 All day long the mess-hall was crowded with the home folks and it was not 
 until relentless military authority gave the order that the reluctant farewells 
 were said. During the evening packs were rolled, rations and ammunition 
 issued, and finally, at 3 A. M., the battery was assembled in the mess-hall for 
 the last time. Following brief instructions from the captain, the 1st sergeant's 
 order to "Fall in outside" was given and battery T> was off for the war. 
 
 [20] 
 
Chapter II. 
 
 THE TRIP ACROSS AND EARLY DAYS IN FRANCE. 
 April 22, 1918, to May 9, 1918. 
 
 N Monday, April 22nd, Ann.. Domino. 1918, at 3:30 o'clock in the 
 forenoon, and on the twenty-sixth birthday of Antonio Joachim 
 Simas, erstwhile Supply Sergeant of our battery, we left our bar- 
 racks at ('amp Upton, Long Island, and started on our meander- 
 >ver the fare of the earth. For many a day past we had been enjoying 
 a sort of military tea-party at Yaphank, but at last we were faced with the 
 stern realities of warfare. With stout hearts, courageous spirits, and heavy 
 packs, we marched to the railroad station, and after much delay, left the 
 cam]: at the o'clock, realizing that we might be viewing it for the last lime. In 
 spite of many complaints as to our food and surroundings at Yaphank, we 
 felt that we were leaving a place which had become almost a home to us. 
 
 We arrived at Long Island City at 7:15 A. M. and boarded the ferryboat 
 "Hempstead." With what strange emotions did we view the receding shores of 
 New York! The air was cool and clear, in contrast to the weather of the past 
 few days, and the many tall buildings on the New York shore stood out 
 clearly in the sunshine. There was no tooting of horns, no waving of flags 
 no shedding of tears. The Great City seemed to be dead to the fact that 
 we were embarking on so dangerous a cruise. There was nothing but an occa 
 sional salute from some small river craft, or the wish of Godspeed from the 
 passengers on some passing ferryboat. 
 
 Arrived at Hoboken, we were landed at Tier 5, and waited there for many 
 hours. During this time, women from the American Red Cross served coffee 
 and buns which we greatly appreciated, for we had had no food for many 
 Lours. After much delay, we walked tip the gangplank, entered the good 
 ship "Leviathan," and were quartered on Decks G and II. Our quarters were 
 very cramped, squalid and unsanitary. After depositing our belongings as 
 best we could in the little space provided, we awaited further developments 
 in quarters, as we were not allowed on deck. At about six o'clock a mess 
 was served, and was very satisfactory ; but the journey to the mess hall through 
 a labyrinthian maze of crowded passageways, and the manner of serving mess 
 in a very crowded mess-hall was unattractive, though realized by us to be 
 necessary and unavoidable on account of the large number of men on the boat. 
 The next morning we arose bright and early, after having a refreshing 
 eight's sleep. It was hard to realize just where we were when we first opened 
 our eves and saw ourselves in these strange surroundings. Events had moved 
 
 [21] 
 
Non-Gom in issioned Officers. 
 
 so rapidly in the past few days, that it took us some time to fully recall them 
 to mind, and to remember how we had come into our present whereabouts 
 We performed our morning ablutions iu salt water, this being the only kind 
 provided, and were then rushed through another very eatable mess. Mess 
 Sergeant Dichich was the butt of many serio-comic "knocks" in comparing 
 the mess on board ship with the "muss" he had always provided. He, how- 
 ever, remained unshaken as well as unsupported (until we reached the front) 
 in the belief that his culinary sapience was unparalleled. We could not 
 be convinced, however, for the memory of many foodless days and sleepless 
 nights, caused by such dishes as "rice a la Dichich," macaroni, salmon salad, 
 "hand grenades," etc., still lingered. It has often been proven in history 
 that a genius is never recognized in his own age. We were entirely willing 
 that his genius be recognized, and that he receive his just desserts hereafter, 
 in an atmosphere which would be more conducive to good cooking and 
 roasting. 
 
 The ship remained in dock all day. Most of us were kept busy carrying 
 blue bags aboard. The others were confined to quarters, and no one was 
 allowed on deck. 
 
 When we arose on Wednesday morning, we felt our cots rocking slightly, 
 and knew that we were out to sea. At noon, we were allowed on deck for the 
 first time. Land was still in sight and many sea-gulls were flying about the 
 sea. The ship had left the dock at 5:15 A. M. and as she was not travelling 
 very rapidly, we were still in sight of land. The stay on deck was scheduled 
 to last until 1 :30 only, but great joy was caused by the announcement that 
 we would be allowed on deck at will, for the remainder of the trip. For the 
 rest of the day we were curiously examining the ship and looking into the 
 
 [22] 
 
sea. Candies and drinks were purchased from the canteen, and the deck 
 presented a Lively sight, with the men noisily discussing the trip and the 
 surprising events of the past few days. After the afternoon mess (only two 
 meals a day were served to the troops on the boat, one in the morning and one 
 in the afternoon), an "Abandon Ship" drill was held lor the first time. This 
 was conducted in the following manner: A call was blown by the Navy 
 Bugler, followed by the call down the various hatchways "All hands abandon 
 ship!" This was the signal for instant activity. Immediately, the men were 
 seen hurrying to their quarters from the various parts of the ship, so that they 
 could get their life-belts. The section chiefs called the rolls, while everyone 
 was busy putting on his life-preserver and his cartridge belt, with one blanket 
 folded over it. At a signal from the deck above, we hurried upstairs to a 
 Mustering Station, where we were lined up in order, and were sent up to the 
 upper deck as the Naval Officer there called for us. It was made clear to us 
 that in the case of an actual ship abandonment, should any man be seen 
 running excitedly about, he would be shot instantly. When we were gathered 
 on the upper deck, where the lifeboats were, "Recall" was sounded, and we 
 returned to our quarters. 
 
 The decks were cleared at about seven o'clock, and all lights went out at 
 alioui eight, leaving the place in pitch darkness. We had to grope our way 
 in the dark to find our bunks. We were all finally settled for the night, how 
 ever, and except for the occasional snoring of some neighbor, and the distant 
 chug-chug of the engines, a quiet as absolute as the darkness reigned. 
 
 The next few days were uneventful, but since we were allowed on deck a I 
 will, we found enough to interest us. The sea wore a very gay aspect. As 
 far as the eye could see, at the crest of each wave, were snow-white spats of 
 foam, presenting the appearance of masses of clean, floating snow. The water 
 was very gentle and beautifully colored by the dazzling sunshine. Above, 
 as though suspended in mid-air, hung Huffy masses of fleecy white clouds, 
 here and there delicately tinted pink. The horizon stretched about us in 
 a complete circle, the central point of which was the "Leviathan." 
 
 The sea was not very rough and none of us were affected by rocking of 
 the boat excepting Buckmiller and Corporal Henry .Miller. "Buck" used to 
 get sea-sick riding a plow, he said, while "Uncle Henry" used to sutler even in 
 a row boat on the Hudson. Henry, believing in the power of mind over matter, 
 lay in his cot. reading "In the Hollow of his Hand," by one of his favorite 
 New Thought authors. When Captain Mahon came around, and jestingly 
 told him he only believed he was sick, he was greatly incensed, for his stomach 
 had already left proof sufficient in the hollow of his hand. 
 
 Sunday arrived and how different it was from past Sundays! In military 
 life the distinction between Sunday and the rest of the week is not so 
 marked, especially when one is so unfortunate as to be on kitchen police. 
 The day was spent on deck and those who were reflectively inclined, pictured 
 in the retrospect, the last Sunday they had spent in Camp Upton. Rain in 
 bucketfuls and mud up to the knees, a tense air of anticipation and excite- 
 ment about the barracks, great hustle and bustle in equipping the new men, 
 arrival of visitors in taxis, tin' presence of visitors, mothers and sweethearts 
 in large numbers, final farewells — all were reviewed. Seven days later, and 
 
 [23] 
 
what a difference in scene! Thousands of miles away and still being relent- 
 lessly rushed forward. 
 
 On May 1st, the convo}', consisting of five American destroyers, arrived 
 and the ship immediately increased its speed. During the day, the follow- 
 ing message sent by the Leviathan to one of the destroyers, by heliograph, was 
 picked up by Corporal Altaian and Private Sofio : 
 
 "Please send following b} r radio to Brest : Leviathan will arrive 
 
 about 6:30 A. M. tomorrow; requests that anchorage bearing 123° 
 
 true from Du Portzic lighthouse be clear for a radius of 500 yards." 
 This news was immediately spread around and caused much excitement. 
 
 That night we passed through the danger zone, and every precaution was 
 taken. We were ordered to sleep in all of our clothes as well as in our life- 
 preservers. Guards were stationed at every porthole and we were not even 
 allowed to wash in the basins near them. We felt that this night would be 
 decisive as to whether we would or would not reach our port safely. 
 
 All doubts on this score were dispelled when we were awakened, next 
 morning, by the sound of the sinking of anchors. When, at about 7 :15, we 
 passed over deck for our mess, we saw the town of Brest on the shores in 
 front of us. Small red sailboats were in the harbor, and destroyers were 
 speeding back and forth. Brest was picturesquely settled in the hills and 
 presented a pretty appearance in the sunshine. At about noon, orders were 
 given to move off the boat, and were quickly carried out. Soon afterward, 
 we were on a British lighter alongside of the "Leviathan," having first received 
 a lunch consisting of two ham sandwiches, a piece of cake and an apple. Amid 
 the cheers from the nurses, sailors and troops remaining on board, and with 
 the band playing "Good-bye, little girl, good-bye," the lighter slowly chugged 
 away. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, we landed at Brest. The first sights that struck 
 us as being odd were the boys dressed in gowns, almost like girls, and the 
 coolies at work in the railroad yards. Requests for "cigarettes for papa" 
 and "biscuit Americain" were numerous and were in most cases granted. 
 After lining up, we marched up a steep hill through the town. The sights 
 were interesting. There were few people on the streets. The children and 
 aged folk looked healthy, but the young women looked for the most part 
 unhealthy, and not of the best character. Stores with the sign "Commerce 
 de Yin" were as numerous as soda fountains in America. The fields out- 
 side of the town were covered with green grass and spotted with lilac- 
 bushes, violets, buttercups and other flowers. The sweet odors from the 
 flowers were, however, unhappily mixed with the malodorous stenches caused 
 by the imperfect sewerage system of Brest. 
 
 The sun was very hot and the road very dusty, and several of the men had 
 to drop out, but they rejoined the battery before they reached the barracks. 
 At Saint Saens, the order "fall out" was given, and a rest had. Many of the 
 inhabitants gathered around, and the requests for "biscuit Americain" and 
 cigarettes became more insistent than ever. The people had a squalid and 
 poverty-stricken appearance. Maison Blanche was the next village we 
 passed through and then the barracks were reached. A sign on the road 
 announced the name "Pontenezen Barracks." 
 
 [24] 
 
Entrance to the barracks was had through an old red wooden don- with 
 iron framework, of mediaeval construction, which was opened by a guard. Old 
 lanterns, long out of use. were fixed to the iron pari of the door. High, aged 
 looking walls, of broken stone, stretched away from the gate on both sides. 
 Inside the walls, there was a large, well leveled parade ground. The barracks 
 were long concrete structures, with slate tile roofs and small gabled windows. 
 Everything about them had the appearance of antiquity, and it was later 
 ascertained that these very barracks had been occupied by Napoleon's troops. 
 
 The battery was assigned to barracks marked "Baft. U. 1," upstairs. We 
 marched up low wooden steps into a long, dimly lighted room, with heavy 
 raftered ceilings, wooden floors and small windows. Places on the floor were 
 assigned to each section for sleeping purposes and packs were unrolled. We 
 then washed np in fresh water drawn from springs. Candles were lit at 
 about 9:30, until which hour it remained light. At about 10:30, supper, 
 consisting of corned beef hash, bread and coffee was served, outdoors on the 
 ground. It was a rather unusual sight to see men and officers squatting on 
 the ground, and, in the dim light cast by the kitchen fire, eating with satis 
 faction their meager meal. 
 
 For the next few days, we did very little. Many of us were on detail 
 at Brest, tearing down roads and unloading lumber. The rest of us found 
 enough to interest us. Some went through the barracks, searching through 
 every nook and cranny, in quest of some relic of Napoleon's day. Others 
 wandered around the camp and "took in" the sights. 
 
 On Sunday, we were assembled with Headquarters Company, and marched 
 through the neighboring country with band playing. Many pretty towns 
 were passed through, Gouesnou, Benetine and La Housse being among them. 
 One of the interesting features of the day was the attempt at conversation in 
 French with the peasants and children, on the part of the men. The country 
 was very beautiful, and the roads were surrounded by bushes and trees 
 and beautiful flowers. The peasants wore black velvet hats with a long 
 streamer, called "chapeau paysan." In a quiet spot, we fell out and several 
 vocal and instrumental selections were given by the men. We returned 
 with band playing, feeling that we had spent a very enjoyable and interesting 
 afternoon. 
 
 The following day we spent in the same manner. Joined by Battery C 
 this lime, we started on a march through the neighboring towns. After march- 
 ing lor some time, we fell out for an hour, during which time Lieutenant 
 Eberstadt delivered a talk on French money. March was resumed, and at 
 Cambezellac, we joined the rest of the regiment in the square surrounding the 
 town church. A band concert was given, in the course of which, the Mar- 
 seillaise and The Star-Spangled Banner were played and highly applauded. 
 We returned in time for noon mess. In the afternoon, Captain Mahon, in the 
 course of a lecture, advised us that we would move out early in the morning. 
 All preparations were made to move on a moment's notice, and we retired 
 early, expecting an early call. 
 
 At :!:()() A. M. the bugle blew. We dressed, washed, messed and packed 
 our rolls all by candle light. We were lined up at 4:15 and left cam]) shortly 
 afterward. The quiet greyness preceding dawn surrounded us as we marched 
 
iii silence towards Brest. Slowly, as the march continued and the hour 
 grew later, pedestrians appeared, shutters were opened, and signs generally 
 of a re-awakening world were seen. Arrived at the railroad station at Brest, 
 we had a long wait, during which we conversed as best we could with the 
 passersby. German, Turkish and Austrian prisoners were marched by while 
 we waited. 
 
 We finally boarded French box cars, much smaller than American box 
 cars, with the following inscription on them. 
 
 40 HOMMES 
 S CHEVAUX (EN LONG) 
 
 There was hardly room to breathe. Packs were suspended from the ceiling, 
 and every available inch of space was used. Loaves of bread and canned food 
 were piled up in the center of the car. The car was subdivided into com- 
 partments, so that thirty-two men could sit knee to knee. The remaining 
 eight or nine in each car had to sit on the floor. Ventilation was furnished 
 by means of two squares, cut on each side of the car. 
 
 The train left Brest at 8:55, and passed over very beautiful country. 
 Green, rolling hills, sweeping valleys, squares of yellow flowers in the midst 
 of green fields, gnarled stumps covered with vines — all this was part of the 
 panoramic landscape as the train rolled along. We ate for the first time at 
 (i:00 P. M., having been fifteen hours without food of any kind. Since no 
 lights could be had, we had to remain in darkness. We tried to sleep on the 
 benches and floors but found it impossible. It was a restless and uncomfort- 
 able night, and everyone agreed that it was the worst we had thus far expe- 
 rienced. 
 
 Nantes was reached at 2 :00 A. M. Hot black coffee with a brandy taste, 
 furnished by the French Bed Cross, was brought on the cars, and helped to 
 make us more comfortable. We passed through Bochefort-sur-la-Mer, Pons 
 and other large towns, and, finally, at about 8:00 P. M., reached Bordeaux. 
 It was a welcome sight to our eyes, for we felt that the end of the trip was 
 near. Considerable delay was experienced between Bordeaux and the camp 
 siding some fifteen miles awav, which was reached about midnight. 
 
 [2(5] 
 
Chapter III. 
 
 TRAINING PERIOD AT CAMP DE SOUGE. 
 May 9, 1918. to July 9, 1918. 
 
 mile> 
 
 JETER arriving ;il the station, we jumped oil' the cars and lined up. 
 There was a big hustle and bustle as motor trucks rushed back and 
 forth. After considerable delay, I lie march was started, and through 
 groves of trees, making a pilch dark aisle, we inarched lor several 
 The darkness was so intense that we could not see a tool in front of 
 us. At last, we arrived at the long' wooden structures which were to be our 
 barracks. Alter hurriedly setting up wooden hunks, we retired al about .".:•><> 
 A. M. The blue bags arrived in Hie morning and the bed sacks were taken ou1 
 of them and filled with excelsior. The barracks were then swept up and 
 things generally set in order. 
 
 The news soon spread thai the regiment had been converted into a French 
 "75" regiment and created quite a stir. A few days later, we pulled our 
 guns from an ordnance depot to the battery, and got our first view of them. 
 The following Monday our regular training schedule commenced. The bat 
 tery was divided into its various details and the men received instruction in 
 their particular duties. Most of the men were on the cannons. Others were 
 assigned to the Telephone School, the Radio School ami the Machine Gun 
 School. For the next few weeks, everybody was busy all of the lime, learning 
 the business of modern warfare. An excellent corps of instructors supervised 
 
 [-'< 
 
the work and .showed an efficiency which was subsequently rarely encountered 
 in our military experience. 
 
 An epidemic of mumps and the measles soon went the rounds, and many, 
 including Sergeant Pons, were put in the sick bay, where they led "the life of 
 Riley," doing nothing all day. We were put under quarantine, and were not 
 permitted to leave the limits of the camp. 
 
 On Sundays, passes were issued to ten per cent, of each battery for 
 Bordeaux. Q. M. trucks transported us there and back. At Bordeaux, lively 
 sights again greeted our eyes, and made the Iowa farmers sit up and take 
 notice. "Gin-mills," where they dispensed "red ink" and similar beverages, 
 the much-vaunted French mademoiselles, with their "oo-la-la," automobiles, 
 trolley-cars and even ice-cream were a few of the reminders of civilization we 
 received here. "Good Conduct Passes" were also issued to those of us who 
 were "good." These entitled us to visit the villages of Bonneau, Isaac, 
 St. Medard, Martignas and St. Jeah-d'Illac, when not on duty. By far the 
 most popular of these villages was St. Medard, where most of us spent 
 our Sundays. This was a small market town with a lot of booths 
 set up, in which merchandise was sold. The houses were ancient and 
 the village made a very pretty sight. The town was usually the scene of much 
 activity. Japs, coolies and American and French soldiers tilled the streets, as 
 well as visitors from neighboring villages, who were arriving, dressed in their 
 Sunday best, in their high, two-wheeled carts. In the village square, a band 
 of gypsies had settled and were selling horses, pigs and cows. Around the 
 square, picnic parties were usually formed, and families and couples were 
 seated in the grass with their luncheon spread out. Meals were usually 
 served to the men at the many inns, in and about the town, and were very 
 satisfactory, excepting that bread and sugar were entirely lacking. Every 
 restaurant had the sign "No bread" posted. Cigarettes were also not procur- 
 able anywhere. Fruit and vegetables, hoAvever, were in" great abundance, at 
 reasonable prices. 
 
 In the meantime, our schooling in the science of warfare was progress- 
 ing very rapidly. We started going out to different observation posts at the 
 large range nearby, from which we fired. The officers were given problems at 
 the observation posts and sent their commands down by telephone to the guns. 
 When the commands were executed and the guns were fired, the officers 
 observed the fire through glasses, made corrections and finally adjusted on 
 their targets. The cannoneers worked on the guns, the telephone men on the 
 wires and the officers in directing fire. We were thus receiving the training 
 which made us later so well organized and co-ordinated a unit. 
 
 As our experience increased, we started firing practice barrages. We 
 camped out in our shelter tents at the range, and turned in, leaving guards 
 posted who were to observe for barrage rockets. Several times during these 
 nights, the signals came, and we were routed out of our blankets to put over a 
 "deadly barrage." 
 
 Gas masks arrived and Harknett was made "Gas Sergeant." The steel 
 helmets were also issued and we started having gas-mask drill. George trained 
 us to do the stunt in six seconds, even though he made a pest of himself in 
 doing it. No matter where we were, we could not escape his ghastly and 
 
 I 28 I 
 
Group. 
 
 highly realistic yell "(las!" and we lia<l to drop everything and put on our 
 Has masks, which we were now required l<> wear at all formations. 
 
 The horses also arrived, and now developed our love for these "dogs" of 
 war. They kicked us, bit us and trampled us under foot, while we learned 
 to treat them "as we would our children." The task of grooming, feeding and 
 watering them was an ever-present horror, and lucky was he who could suc- 
 cessfully "duck" a formation and "get away with it." The farmers, of course, 
 didn't mind them, hut the "pen pushers" from the city were not accustomed 
 to the "dogs" and their treatment as yet, and they longed for the 4.7's and the 
 much heard of tractors. With the horses started the equitation instruction 
 under Lieutenant Richard and Lieutenant Lunny. Lieutenant Richard 
 gathered a group of inexperienced X. <'. O.'s around him and started to tell 
 them how a horse was to he properly ridden. He attempted to give a practical 
 demonstration, hut the horse evidently had not been accustomed to the most 
 approved methods of riding, as taughl in Plattsburgh, with the result that 
 the Lieutenant gracefully though forcibly was seated on the ground as the 
 animal vanished from under him like a streak of wind. Many of the X. C. O.'s, 
 profiting by this instruction, succeeded in imitating the Lieutenant to perfec- 
 tion, and Corporal Miller, Corporal Freedman and Sergeant Clackner were 
 especially expert in this direction. Sergeant Ruggiero discovered a new means 
 of mounting a horse — by climbing up one id' his hind legs and hoisting him- 
 self up by his tail. All of the horses didn't stand for this, however, ami 
 "Buggy" also "bit the dust" very often. 
 
 On July 2nd we took our first long road march. We rose at 5 A. M. and 
 left camp in complete mounted formation, for a Held problem. We were 
 in the saddle all morning, and up to about 2 1'. M., when a stop was had for 
 
 [291 
 
Telephone, Observing and Machine Gun Details. 
 
 mess, which was prepared and served from the rolling kitchen. At this stop 
 the horses were watered. After mess, the march was continued, aud at a 
 certain point in the road, the order to go into position and fire was given. 
 Communication was quickly established, aud firing commenced, under the 
 observation of General Bees. The firing ceased at about 6 P. M., and mess 
 was again served on the road. We then started on the return march, reach- 
 ing the barracks at about 10:30. 
 
 The following morning, we learned that we would parade in Bordeaux on 
 July 4th, and preparations immediately commenced. Spurs were issued to all 
 of the drivers and troopers. After dinner, we left camp on the way to Bor- 
 deaux. Everybody wore their best "duds" and felt iu excellent spirits. At 
 about six o'clock, Le Bouscat was reached, where we pitched camp. This was 
 a very beautiful spot, formerly a fashionable race track, and was marked 
 "Pelouse." The picket line was established, horses groomed aud mess served, 
 and then the men lounged around taking life easy. French peasants from the 
 adjoining country visited the camp in the evening. The band played selec- 
 tions from the grandstand, and the holiday spirit prevailed. 
 
 On July 4th, we arose bright and early, and immediately watered the 
 horses. We left our camp at eight o'clock for Bordeaux. As we rode through 
 the streets, we drew forth much applause from the crowds. The reviewing 
 stand was at Rue de la Tournaj 1 ', and as the battery passed by there were many 
 cries of "Joli" and "Vive l'Amerique." The band played and the moving 
 picture machines were busy. The horses behaved excellently, and the conduct 
 of the battery was praiseworthy. The city was decorated lavishly with French 
 and American flags and bunting, and all business places were closed. After 
 passing the reviewing stand, we returned by the same route to the camping 
 
 [30] 
 
place. Passes were issued to us, and most of us went back to Bordeaux and 
 enjoyed a good meal and some "vin rouge" there. 
 
 The next day, we were hack at Souge, and except for a large forest fire 
 which we had much trouble in extinguishing, nothing of interest occurred 
 until July 9th, when we learned that we would leave Camp and entrain for 
 parts unknown. Details for the entire trip were made up and announced. 
 The bedsacks were emptied, the bunks taken down, and the barracks tlior 
 oughly cleaned. In the morning the entire battery went to the <Jas House, 
 where they were put through "tear gas.'' There were no killed or wounded, 
 nevertheless, many of us returned in tears. A collection was made for lux 
 uries for the trip, to break the monotony of canned corned beef and similar 
 delicacies, and seven hundred francs were collected. 
 
 At about six o'clock the entire battery, except for details remaining behind 
 to police up the barracks, marched to the railroad station at Bonneau. The 
 work of loading up the cars was immediately commenced. Some difficulty 
 was had in loading the horses on the box cars, but this was finally accom- 
 plished by the Herculean efforts of French, Pons, Von Pless and Schwab. 
 Eight horses were put in each car, four on each side, head to head with each 
 other, and two men in the center. All of the battery equipment, including 
 wagons, limbers, caissons and pieces were loaded on flat cars. 
 
 The box cars for the men were similar to those we had had on the trip 
 from Brest, but were much more comfortable, because only twenty-two were 
 assigned to a car, instead of forty-one, as on that trip. The seats were taken 
 down, and bedsacks which some of the men had brought wifh them, were 
 spread over the floors, making a soft bedding. The loading lasted until about 
 midnight, at which hour a light luncheon consisting of a cup of coffee, matzoth 
 and molasses syrup was served. We were assigned to our cars for the trip, 
 and turned in about one o'clock. 
 
 [3i; 
 
Chapter IV. 
 
 AT THE FRONT— THE BACCARAT SECTOR. 
 July 10, 1918, to July 31, 1918. 
 
 AKLY in the morning of July 10th, the train pulled out of the sta- 
 tion at Bonneau. This departure marked a very definite phase in 
 Our adventures and we all felt that here was the end of one of the 
 stages of our experiences, and the beginning of a new and much 
 more serious one. From now on, it was a question of passing from hardships 
 to ever greater hardships, and it was with a feeling of regret that we left the 
 environs of Souge. In spite of diarrhoea and sand, it had been a pleasant 
 place. Y. M. C. A.'s, "vin rouge," the close proximity of Bordeaux and 
 St. Medard, had rendered the place bearable, even to those who did not appre- 
 ciate the beauties of the surrounding pine woods. On the other hand, the 
 "wanderlust" of the men, the variety and novelty of travelling, the break in 
 the monotony of training camp existence, and the curiosity as to "What's 
 next?" counterbalanced these regrets to a certain extent, and in many cases 
 made the departure desired. 
 
 After much dilly-dallying, Bordeaux was reached at 9 A. M., and we 
 were allowed to go into the station and wash. The train started shortly after- 
 ward, and except for occasional stops, maintained a regular speed during the 
 day. The country passed through was most beautiful, even more so than the 
 country between Brest and Bordeaux. Lombardy poplars adorned the land- 
 scape everywhere. Grass-covered hills and valleys afforded, a very pleasing 
 panoramic view to our eyes as we sat on the floors of our "Pullmans" near 
 the doors. Every bit of land was carefully and neatly cultivated, a fact 
 which was hardly understandable, in view of the absence of the men. Women 
 were seen at work occasionally and the train even had a woman "switchlady" 
 dressed in a neat suit of black. Many American camps were seen en route, 
 and the entire country showed signs of Americanization. At mess, which was 
 served from the moving kitchen on one of the cars, cigarettes, candy, chocolate, 
 raisins, oranges and nuts were served, being purchased by the contribution 
 of the men. At night, we squatted on the floors near the doors of our cars 
 and sang such songs as "Tenting to-night," "Indiana," and other sentimental 
 tunes, until we, one by one, fell off to sleep in our corners. 
 
 We continued this trip through the entire next day and night, and it was 
 not until the morning following that we saw the first signs of warfare. At 
 Blainville, where quite a large number of French soldiers in trench equipment 
 
 [32] 
 
Battery culinary establishment. 
 
 were observed, we saw the first placard "Abri de Bombardment." Several houses 
 showed signs of bombardment and everywhere indications of the close prox- 
 imity of the front were apparent. After we reached Luneville, shell torn 
 houses could be seen all along the route. We finally reached Baccarat and 
 unloaded. Everywhere was hustle and hustle, and no time was even had to 
 serve mess. The horses presented a very sorry appearance, with bruises all 
 over them, and manes and tails all tangled up and dirty. Soon afterward we 
 started off to the echelon, about three kilometers away. An interval of one 
 hundred yards was maintained between each of the pieces, so that the battery 
 would not present too large a target to enemy aeroplanes. The horses were 
 also marched up at intervals. Instructions were given to everyone to be on the 
 lookout for aeroplanes, and to stop immediately if any were seen. We reached 
 the echelon at about 4:30. It was located in the midst of woods on a 
 hillside, and gave a very excellent view of the beautiful surrounding country. 
 A picket line was immediately stretched, and the horses were groomed and 
 fed. We then pitched our tents and ate a scant mess. Mail was distributed 
 and was greatly appreciated, for in most cases it contained words of good 
 cheer and acted as a tonic to us in our strange surroundings. 
 
 The announcement was then made that a large part of the battery would 
 leave for the front that night, and preparations immediately commenced. 
 Revolvers and ammunition were distributed to all of those who were leaving. 
 Canvas leggings were removed and spirals put on in their place, as only the 
 latter were allowed to be worn at the front. Darkness came on soon, and in 
 the dark we saddled our horses and adjusted the gas masks on them. We 
 wore our steel helmets and belts, and as we passed each other in this garb, with 
 our revolvers sticking out of our hip-pockets, we presented strange figures. 
 
 ;33] 
 
Jam sandwiches were served to those leaving, and then Capt. Mahon addressed 
 a few words to us, cautioning and advising us as to the night's adventures. 
 
 About midnight, the order "Forward, Ho!" was given and the battery 
 moved out. The Captain rode at the head, followed by the B. C. Detail in a 
 column of two's. The horses were very impatient and unruly, no doubt, 
 because of their long trip on the box cars, and because of the unaccustomed 
 gas masks on their noses. The sky was overcast, and everything was en- 
 shrouded in pitch darkness. As we moved along, no sounds could be heard 
 except the clatter of the horses' hoofs, the muffled tones of the men, the occa- 
 sional rumbling of a cart passing by, and the distant booming of guns. Now 
 and then, flares lit up the sky, and signal rockets rose here and there. As the 
 procession n eared certain points, the dark figure of a sentry would come into 
 view, and the procession would be halted until the countersign was given. 
 We passed through a village which had recently been shelled and looked with 
 interest at the dark, almost ghastly outlines of the houses, with their tumbling- 
 walls and the shell-holes through their roofs. At another village, the few 
 houses had their blinds mysteriously drawn, and behind the blinds could be 
 seen bright lights. Two mysterious figures came out, and after a talk with 
 the Battery Commander, went on ahead, while the column was halted. They 
 soon returned, and then the battery moved onward. About 3 A. M. a turn 
 in the road was reached, and we went into our first gun position. It was day- 
 break before our work was done, and then we went into the dugouts and 
 tumbled off to sleep, clothes and all, as best we could in the limited space. 
 Frenchmen were still occupying the position, so our quarters were very 
 cramped. 
 
 We slept most of the day, and it was almost evening before we arose 
 and looked over our new home. It was an excellent position on the side of a 
 hill, and was very well camouflaged. The dugouts and bomb-proof shelters 
 were not yet completed, but work was well under way. The surrounding 
 country was very beautiful, and a few hours out of doors here would compen- 
 sate for the many hours which would have to be spent underground. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, July 14th, the French national holiday; yet it 
 neither felt like Sunday nor a holiday to us. We continued the digging in the 
 dug-outs and bomb-proof shelters all day, and walked around all besmeared 
 and dirty from the clay earth. The Frenchmen, however, were all cleaned 
 up and in holiday attire, and between "vin rouge" and other beverages, they 
 had a merry time of it. As best they could, they expressed their kindly sym- 
 pathy and love for their "Camarades Americains," as they termed us, and 
 drank to the health of the American and French Republics — "« la sante des 
 Republiques Francaise et Americaine." The names of Lafayette and Franklin 
 were often mentioned, and on the whole, the finest spirit of friendship 
 prevailed. 
 
 In the afternoon we fired a few rounds to "adjust" the guns. There was 
 great aeroplane activity in the sky, and more than once were the machine 
 guns trained against enemy aircraft. Half of the battery spent the nights in 
 the dugouts, while the other half slept under the shelter of a cowshed or stable 
 nearby, at the "barracks." Rats were very numerous here, and climbed all 
 over us. and many of us awoke to find several of the rodents playing tag on 
 
 [34] 
 
our chests. A few "Allez's" helped to chase them away for the time, they 
 being French rats, but they returned all too soon. 
 
 ()n the 19th, the French left the position, leaving the emplacement in our 
 entire charge. Life had already settled down to a dull routine, and for the 
 next few days we did nothing hut dig, dig and dig. When the news reached 
 us on the olst that we were to move out that night, we greeted it with joy, 
 even though we did not know where our next stop would be. 
 
 The line from the Champagne plains to the Swiss border was at this time 
 made up entirely of "quiet sectors."' It scarcely seemed to he the "Front" 
 at all. Farther up the line the terrible counter-offensive had started and both 
 sides were using up every shell and every ounce of strength in that decisive 
 conflict. Life had been dull at Yaxainville, hut we had kept busy and hail 
 put into practice many of the things we had been taught at Souge. 
 
 [35] 
 
Chapter V. 
 
 VAXAINVILLE TO THE NESLE WOODS. 
 July 31, 1918, to August 12, 1918. 
 
 T was midnight when we left Vaxainville. A clear crescent moon lit 
 up the sky and helped to make the early part of the hike enjoyable. 
 The many villages through which we passed had been heavily 
 shelled and the indistinct outlines of their ruins presented a spec- 
 tral appearance in the moonlight. We continued hiking all night with but 
 little rest, and the morning saw us fatigued and wearied; but, in spite of our 
 weariness, we were very much interested in the sights as the day broke and 
 made them visible. In the early morning we arrived at a strip of woods where 
 we joined the rest of the battery which had proceeded separately from the 
 echelon. We were almost famished and the meagre breakfast, consisting of 
 one slice of bread and bacon, did little towards satisfying our hunger. After 
 the horses were taken care of and all other details provided for, we were 
 able to get about two hours' sleep in the rain. 
 
 At about ten o'clock of that night, our journey was resumed under condi- 
 tions similar to those of the preceding night. Many villages were passed 
 on the march. The men were on the verge of exhaustion and kept on march- 
 ing ahead in a lifeless mechanical way. The woods and the outlines of trees 
 and bushes took on strange and fantastic shapes as we passed by them with 
 eyes almost closed. After another all-night hike, we arrived at a strip of 
 woods, outside of the village of Virecourt, near Bayon. Camp was pitched 
 in a grassy clearing and the men enjoyed a few hours' sleep during the day 
 before retiring for the night. 
 
 The following morning the battery was assembled and informed by Ser- 
 geant French that the Captain was very much pleased with the manner 
 in which the men had endured the hardships of the march. He gave the 
 further information that we would be encamped here for several days, and 
 that no gas masks, side-arms or steel helmets would have to be worn. There 
 was a general feeling of relief when this news was heard, as it seemed to 
 indicate a step away from the actual fighting front. Many rumors were 
 current as to our destination, and it was generally believed that we were 
 going to Italy. Galiano Anselmi, Antola, Monaco, Procopio, and several 
 other of our Italian comrades were overjoyed at the thought and immediately 
 made mental pictures of their popularity with the fair sex of Italy, when 
 they should arrive sporting their graceful, soldierly forms in the American 
 uniform. In the evening they started a rehearsal of Italian songs. Music 
 
 [36] 
 
tilled the air until the source of these sweet sounds was discovered, and then 
 (in cans, hottles, shoes and other such bouquets of appreciation filled the air. 
 The vocalists did not "encore." Galiano was very much incensed at Curnan, 
 "Paddy" Bowler and several other sons of Ireland who helped to break up 
 his party. "Manage niarrone" and other of his favorite cuss words were 
 hurled at them, but succeeded only in drawing forth the contemptuous re- 
 joinder from "Paddy" that "Thim hathen wops didn't know nuthin about 
 music; if they would only sing 'Erin go Bragh' or some other civilized tune 
 instid of thot Dago lingo we all might jine the karus." 
 
 We spent the next two days in this camp, and enjoyed every minute of this 
 short stay. The men bathed in the clear, pebble-bottomed Moselle River aud 
 felt much refreshed. In the evenings, passes were issued to Virecourt and 
 Bayon, where ice-cream and beer were purchased and were partaken of by all 
 who could get there before the limited supply was sold out. The M. l'.'s had a 
 hard time getting Nihan and (tleason away from the ice-cream counter and 
 "Barney" Lowell aud "Hank" Miller from the beer counter. 
 
 In the morning of August 7, the shrill and unwelcome whistle of the 
 First Sergeant blew at 4:15. The tents, wet from the rain which had been 
 falling during the night, were immediately struck and packs were rolled. At 
 7:30 we moved out, and marched with very heavy packs up a succession of 
 steep hills for a long distance until we reached Einvaux, where the familiar 
 French box cars were awaiting us. These were immediately loaded up, and 
 in the early afternoon, we pulled out of the statiou. Many other troop trains 
 passed us. We received an excellent reception everywhere and everybody was 
 in tine spirits. Every box-car door was open and the men sang their 
 favorite tunes as they sat grouped around the doorways viewing the scenery. 
 All lights were ordered out after dark, and the machine-gun guards were 
 posted on the flat-cars in case of an avion attack. 
 
 The ride was continued all night and until noon of the next day, when 
 we detrained at Coulomniers. This was a lively place for a French town, and 
 there was quite a bit of activity on the streets. As we marched through, loaded 
 down with our heavy packs, the civilian inhabitants curiously looked us over. 
 
 Coulomniers had been one of the points of the farthest advance made by 
 the Boche in 11114. It was, however, fairly well intact, with the exception of 
 the electric power-house just opposite from the siding where we detrained. 
 This building had been levelled by hostile aviators just a couple of weeks 
 before in the grand but futile Boche smash of July 15. We all felt thrilled 
 at our arrival in this part of France, for it was within easy striking distance 
 of Chateau-Thierry — a name which even at that early date had begun to grip 
 the imagination of the A. E. F. We had heard or read in the papers only- 
 scattering accounts of the glorious Franco-American counter-attack of July 
 18, but we realized that the part of the line we were headed for had been the 
 crux of the fiercest struggle in the war and was the most active part of the 
 line at this time. 
 
 We hiked two kilometers and reached St. Denis. This was a small, 
 clean, picturesque village, perched on the top of a hill, overlooking the neigh 
 boring country. Its red-roofed huts were grouped around the village church. 
 The village folk were in the square, lined up in their Sunday best, and gave 
 
 [37] 
 
us a very glad reception as we marched in. The kitchen was established 
 at a central point and supper prepared and served. After mess the battery 
 assembled near the church and were led off in groups to their respective billets 
 which consisted of bunks in old barns and deserted houses. 
 
 In the evening of the next day the battery was assembled in front of the 
 church and given the previous month's pay. Many lively groups gathered 
 around the village and visited the "Epicerie," where, under the stimulating 
 effects of "via rouge" and other beverages, many a knotty problem of 
 military strategy and tactics was "doped out." 
 
 We left St. Denis at 5 :30 the following evening, carrying our full rolls 
 and packs, and marched very hurriedly for nearly three hours, and then 
 halted for mess. The halt was of such short duration, however, that very 
 few could finish their meal, and when the order to resume march came, we 
 had to run along behind the carriages with hardtack in one hand and a cup 
 of coffee in the other, trying to eat, to the amusement of the village inhabit- 
 ants. The march, continued all night, brought us into the wooded slopes of 
 the Marne Valley. We became so fatigued, that when a halt was ordered, 
 we dropped into the nearest spot, no matter where. The grass became wet 
 with dew, and the air chill. Our clothes were still wet with perspiration from 
 the heat of the day, and when we dropped into the wet grass and the chill air 
 reached our bodies, we- became uncomfortably cold. 
 
 During the few short rests, the order came down from the head of the 
 column : "Cannoneers, pull grass to feed the horses !" "Uncle Henry" tried 
 this with the team nearest him, and fed them plenteously with clover. When 
 the order "Forward Ho!" was given, the "dogs" started forward at a great 
 pace, evidently refreshed by the grass, and "Hank" had all he could do to 
 keep up with them. Much incensed, "Hank" tried to argue with the beasts, 
 but they wouldn't listen to reason. At the next halt, Henry had some new 
 thoughts on the subject, and the horses received uo more encouragement. 
 
 At 5 A. M., very weary in body and spirit, we pulled into a stretch of 
 woods overlooking the River Marne, and dropped off for a few hours' sleep. 
 During the day, many men bathed in the stream, trying to get some relief 
 for their blistered feet. The medical men gave us some attention, but what we 
 needed most was rest; and that was not to be had. At 6:30 P. M-, we again 
 started hiking over very rough roads. We passed over a long pontoon bridge, 
 crossing the Marne at Chateau-Thierry, where we hiked through a large, wide 
 avenue, lined with trees. The dust, dirt and debris of bombarded buildings 
 were on all sides, and the whole town seemed to be shattered. No lights were 
 apparent anywhere. No persons were to be seen in the streets except the 
 dusky figure of a sentinel, here and there. We hiked through in a great 
 hurry and halted at dawn in the Bois de Fere. As we were fast approaching 
 the front once more, it was essential to clear the roads before break of day to 
 avoid the eye of enemy aviators. We had much difficulty here in finding 
 clean patches of ground on which to pitch our tents. The woods had recently 
 been a camping ground occupied by the Germans, and the ground was strewn 
 over with their equipment and other traces of their habitation. Nearby, the 
 unburied body of a French soldier reminded us that we were fast approaching 
 the real horrors of warfare. 
 
 [38] 
 
Coiiar in Chateau Thierry rounded by 304 
 
 /■'. I. about 10 /'. 1/. in August, 1918. Harkneti 
 
 mill Miller several months later at same spot 
 
 mi their "photo" tour a! the front. 
 
 After a day spent in trying to remedy the condition of our feet, and in 
 snatching some sleep whenever possible, we started out in the evening again 
 (in a hike which, for hardship, outrivaled any which we had up to this time 
 taken. The roads were full of nils and shell holes, with loose rocks and stones 
 scattered over them, and as we plodded along in the dark, we would stumble 
 over these, and have the greatesl difficulty in recovering ourselves, laden 
 down with our heavy packs. Throughout the night, the disgusting and sicken 
 ing stenches from unburied dead horses reached us, and were more disagree 
 able than the physical hardships of hiking. The roads were very congested, 
 both with carriages and soldiers. Long tiles of infantrymen, returning from 
 the front, passed us. These troops were of the Fourth U. S. Division, which 
 our infantry had already relieved, and we therefore were very anxious to hear 
 something of the front towards which we were speeding. Little satisfaction 
 did we derive from our queries — some such rejoinders as "You'll learn all 
 about it when you get there," or "It's hell, alright," and "The Boche may he 
 running hut they are still kicking hard," were neither reassuring nor satisfy- 
 ing. At a halt, one of us lit a cigarette. "Put out that light, you — — fool! 
 After you've hail a few bombs drop on your dome, you'll have more sense 
 than that," came from one of the returning veterans of the line. 
 
 All the while the constant flashing of distant guns lit up the night sky 
 and as the march progressed, the booming of cannons sounded louder in the 
 still night air. Hell was loose and we were headed for it as fast as our 
 weary limbs could bring us. At the halts the men were unusually quiet thai 
 night — a combination of exhaustion and a feeling of suspense over the prospect 
 of coming events. 
 
 The strain of our rapid march was beginning to tell not alone on the men 
 but also on the horses with their heavy loads. At that time the battery 
 still boasted of eight powerful-looking stallions which were distributed in 
 pairs to the <!. S. wagons, loaded with 7."> mm. shells, and driven by sucli 
 
 im 
 
Old Battery D echelon in Nesle Woods, 
 Vesle sector. 
 
 expert horsemen as Brotz, Lendzun, Van Auken and Kvalheim. The most 
 powerful pair of the lot was Lendzun's, but their past condition of servitude 
 had not trained them to haul heavy loads of ammunition, and on this inarch 
 they began to crack under the strain. One of them fell in the traces and 
 in spite of continued urging from Lendzun, ably assisted by Lieutenant 
 Tweedy, he could not regain his feet until the veterinarian came along with 
 an injection of strychnine. Under the influence of a potent dose, the old 
 fellow got to his feet and resumed marching, only to stumble into a deep 
 shell-hole when we reached our destination that night. Even the customary 
 skill in such matters of Sergeant French and Sergeant Pons failed in this 
 emergency and the big black died of his exertions to extricate himself. The 
 shell-hole became his grave and thus saved the "Dead Horse Brigade" next 
 morning from an unpleasant detail. 
 
 In the course of that evening's hike, we passed through the ruins of 
 Sergy and across the Ourcq River, both places made famous a scant two 
 weeks before by American divisions. At last, after passing over roads and 
 through woods that seemed endless, we encamped in the Nesle Woods at 
 about 2 :30 A. M. The picket line was stretched, the horses fed, and the 
 carriages camouflaged, and then we all turned in entirely exhausted. The 
 woods were very sweet-smelling and refreshing, after the vile odors of death 
 and decay through which we had just been passing. We had been informed 
 that this was the end of our hike, as the front lines were but five miles ahead, 
 and under these pleasing conditions, we were all soon stretched out in sleep 
 on the grass and moss under the large trees. 
 
 [40] 
 
Chapter VI. 
 
 THE VESLE SECTOR. 
 August 15, 1918, to September 4, 1918. 
 
 j|N T I0 of the remarkable facts in connection with a soldier's life is the 
 power of recuperation he develops. Time and time again we have 
 thought ourselves on the verge of exhaustion, and expending our 
 last ounce of effort, yet, after a short period of rest, we have come 
 back with a greater spirit of energy and push than we started with. And very 
 pleasing have these short periods of rest heen. Like the convalescent, we have 
 enjoyed the beauties and joys of life all the more for having been deprived of 
 them. In the relaxation of these short periods, we have learned to enjoy the 
 present instead of looking ahead toward the future. The three days we spent 
 in these woods were one of these short periods of rest and recuperation, and 
 were highly enjoyed by all of us. We wandered about and -explored the 
 woods searching for souvenirs which the retreating Germans might have left 
 behind. We forgpt the war for the time, and in true boyish spirit, found every- 
 thing full of interest. 
 
 Probably nothing else had heen so vividly and persistently impressed upon 
 our minds during our training at Camp de Souge as the dangers of poisonous 
 gases. It seemed that the Boche possessed an infinite variety of ways of tor- 
 turing their enemies with these deadly fumes. When we reached our first 
 active front, we were therefore inclined to expect gas from every mysterious 
 source. That wicked sorcerer, "Gas Sergeant" Harknett, encouraged us in this 
 belief, so that we would be more docile and obedient to his precautionary regu- 
 lations, and also to put a little "pep" into the incessant gas-mask drills. A 
 strong gas guard was posted each evening in the Nesle Woods, armed to the 
 teeth with sirens and horns. The night we pulled into that camp, everyone 
 was too tired to worry about gas, but the following evening we were all on the 
 alert for it. 
 
 Under cover of darkness all the horses in the Regiment were taken out 
 to graze in a neighboring field. At about nine o'clock our ears caught the 
 gruesome sound of Boche bombing planes approaching. We were cautioned 
 to stand by the horses and remain motionless. Our hearts jumped into our 
 throats as one of the planes descended very low and commenced to circle 
 around just over our head. Suddenly the sky was lit up by a vivid flare 
 dropped by the aviator, which also gave out rather dense fumes. Every sen 
 tinel in the vicinity at once suspected that this was the latest Boche trick in 
 gas warfare, and the sirens uttered their warning wails throughout the woods. 
 
 [-H 
 
first gun position, Tesle Sector, looking 
 south-cast to left of Clicfy Churtreuvc. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 v 
 
 .' 
 
 K ' JP 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 •>;' 
 
 ■» '^ 'C- 
 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 H 1 
 
 
 smcA leading from road to first gun ii 
 
 tion, Yesle Sector, Chery Chartrcuvc 
 
 in background. 
 
 Fifteen hundred men commenced frantic efforts to beat the six-second allow- 
 ance to adjust their masks. Some of the drivers in their devotion to the 
 "dogs" started to pot the horse masks on first, but as the dumb brutes did not 
 appreciate their gallantry and struggled against it, the drivers reconsidered 
 and adopted the "Sauve qui peut" attitude. Many of the horses taking frighl 
 at the uncanny sight of their masked keepers, bolted. It took a half hour to 
 corral them again. Meanwhile, a figure graced by a Sam Browne belt was 
 seen dashing madly in the direction of camp, calling repeatedly, "Where is 
 E Battery?" It was Captain Perin, who had come out for his evening stroll 
 minus his gas mask. Contrary to expectations, the Boche avion dropped no 
 further missiles and soon disappeared, leaving us to a hearty laugh over our 
 first gas scare. This experience, however, keyed up the gas guards more than 
 ever, with the result that for two nights we had no less than a dozen imaginary 
 additional attacks. Our sleep was so frequently disturbed that most of us 
 finally paid no attention to the sirens. Major Sanders was appointed Gas 
 Marshal, with authority to arrest anyone giving a false alarm, and gradually 
 the guards learned to differentiate between real and false attacks. 
 
 Our sojourn in the Bois de Nesle came to an end all too soon. At ten 
 o'clock in the night of August 15, the first two pieces, Sergeant Kuggiero's and 
 Sergeant Velle's sections, with approximately thirty-five men, left for the 
 front, aud here started our real war experiences. Many times on the road we 
 heard the shrill, unearthly wail of the siren, warning us that enemy gas-shells 
 were near, and causing us to put on our gas-masks. These were as necessary 
 for the nauseating stench of dead and decaying horses as they were for gas 
 itself. Added to these horrors of sound and smell, was a wild confusion of 
 traffic all along the route, and especially at crossroads. Every carriage was in 
 mad haste, but no one seemed to know where he was going. The shouts and 
 curses of drivers, the rattling of the carriages, and the stamping of the horses 
 added to the tumult and confusion. Here, indeed, was a contrast to the quiet 
 and sweet-smelling woods which we had just left. 
 
 After we left the main road, we turned into a wooded lane and slowly and 
 cautiously made our way with enemy shells shrieking and bursting all around 
 us, and with our own guns booming and banging away, to our first position, 
 near Chery-Chartreuve. Here, midst the wildest confusion of sound — a nerve 
 racking medley of gas sirens, whistling and bursting of shells, and ceaseless 
 
 [42] 
 
Battery n "fox holes" on road in front of first position <tt Vcsle front. 
 
 firing of our own guns — we unloaded the wagons and put the two guns Lnto 
 position. We immediately took part in a barrage which was being tired. Un- 
 acquainted as we were with the lay of the land and the conditions about us, 
 we were dazed by all of this activity. Before we noticed it, the aighl was gone, 
 and as da}' broke we could better see our surroundings. 
 
 Our gun emplacement was in the middle of an open field, and the only 
 concealment it had was a net of camouflage. Running from the road, which 
 was a short distance away, in front of the guns, was a winding trench which 
 led to the gun position. Adjoining the road was a block of woods, and under 
 cover of the trees numerous fox-holes had been dug where some of our men who 
 were not at the gun position took shelter. This strip of woods was on ground 
 about two feet above the load and. in the bank caused by this elevation, numer- 
 ous other holes had been burrowed, for the banks gave additional protection. 
 
 That night, our two other guns. Sergeant Mayer's and Sergeant Grandin's 
 sections, came up and we took over the entire position. The men secured their 
 shelters as best they could, and work was dune in improving the emplacement. 
 During the day, enemy aeroplanes were very active, and little tiring could 
 be done by us without being observed. The enemy was not very active in his 
 tiring until the afternoon of August IS, when he opened up on our position 
 and forced us to take shelter in the dug-outs alongside of the road. The two 
 days following, he continued his activity, sending over many gas. shrapnel 
 and high-explosive shells, and directing tire with his aeroplanes. Time and 
 again we were forced to abandon the emplacement and lake shelter in our 
 holes. Gas masks were almost continuously worn, and if "('anal boat" Hark- 
 nett was busy supervising the engineering work of constructing latrines at our 
 later positions, he certainly was active yelling "(las!" here. Enemy aero- 
 
 [43] 
 
Road above the first gun position 
 Vesle Front. 
 
 Ferme des Dames — P. C. of the 306th In- 
 fantry near first gun position, Vesle sector. 
 
 planes were continuously above us, while our own were as scarce as the hairs 
 on "Uncle Henry's" head. Occasionally a plane bearing the "Allied" mark 
 appeared, but acted so suspiciously that we all suspected that it was a German 
 plane masquerading under our colors. 
 
 All of this enemy activity came to a climax on August 21. About one 
 o'clock in the morning, a very heavy shelling of the road in front of the posi- 
 tion commenced. Every man was in the greatest danger as shell after shell 
 exploded within a few yards of him. We crouched in the holes in the bank 
 adjoining the road, with our gas masks on, and our uncomfortable positions 
 made breathing exceedingly difficult. As the shells exploded nearby, they 
 threw up a shower of dirt and rocks in all directions. This shelling contin- 
 ued for a half hour and was renewed from time to time, but with less effect. 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon an "Allied" plane appeared and circled 
 suspiciously over the emplacement. A few minutes later, fire was opened up 
 on us and shell after shell hit the road, while others went through the camou- 
 flage covering the emplacement. Captain Mahon ordered that the position 
 be abandoned, and everybody ran, taking the best shelter he could And. Almost 
 everyone of us had been caught by the enemy gas shells, causing a burning 
 and irritating sensation in our eyes, noses and throats. We hurriedly adjusted 
 our gas masks as we ran, but the stifling and suffocating sensation in our 
 throats made breathing impossible, so that despite the gas, we removed masks 
 and ran without them. For the next half hour, we crouched under trees and 
 in holes, while the steady and even buzz of the aeroplane was heard above in 
 marked contrast to the irregular thumping of our hearts. Gradually the shell- 
 ing died down, and as darkness came on, we gathered one by one at the 
 kitchen in the woods where hot coffee was served to us. Several men were 
 slightly gassed and had to return to the echelon that night. "Moe" Weiss- 
 berger was among those gassed, and no doubt it was here that he earned one 
 of the three citations for gallantry which the New York newspapers men- 
 tioned. 
 
 After supper we returned to the gun position, where word soon came 
 down that we were going to fire two hundred and eighty gas-shells that night, 
 in retaliation for the gassing we had received. A detail of men arrived from 
 the echelon to carry ammunition to the guns. After the thrilling events of 
 the day, a great nervous strain was felt evervwhere. The detail worked hm- 
 
 [44] 
 
riedly, carrying the gas-shells from the road, down the winding trench to the 
 guns. Everyone was in suspense, for it was feared that the enemy would 
 open up on us again before we could commence firing. At last all prepara- 
 tions were completed and "Bang!" went the first shell, with an angry roar. 
 All the guns were soon in full swing, and shell after shell sailed through the 
 air towards the enemy. The cannoneers worked with a vim and sent greetings 
 and blessings for the Boche along with every projectile. For the first time 
 their blood was really up. The Hun had made an effort, almost successful, 
 to get their lives by this very means, and now he was getting a dose of his 
 own medicine. Each shell we sent over seemed to be an answer to one which 
 we had received. 
 
 After the firing was completed, the guns were hurriedly drawn out to 
 nearby woods, and dummy guns, made of wood, were set up under the camou- 
 flage. We were all totally exhausted and worn out from the strain of the past 
 few days. Though the firing had ceased, the din was still ringing in our ears. 
 We were all in a sort of stupor. There had been one continuous round of 
 excitement for the past twenty-four hours and now it all seemed so unreal. 
 The emplacement was entirely abandoned and the men gathered one by one 
 under the cover of the woods adjoining the road. The new day was breaking 
 in the East, and slowly the sun rose over the nearby hills. After this night 
 of mad din and nervous excitement, it seemed as though we were emerging 
 from a horrible nightmare into beautiful, peaceful sunshine. 
 
 We were able to sleep most of the day for the enemy seemed to have been 
 cpiieted by our fire. The following day, however, we were disillusioned, for 
 the shells started coining over as fast as ever. The Germans seemed to have 
 discovered our messing schedule, for whenever we prepared to have a meal, 
 they scattered us. The Captain had his own difficulties in this direction. 
 Monaco, his orderly, could not be found. Finally, at the end of the day, 
 after the Captain had had to serve himself all day, Monaco slowly and 
 cautiously emerged from his dugout. He was hailed before the Captain, who 
 asked him if he wanted to see him die of starvation. "What's a matter, Capi- 
 taine? You no hear the shelling?" asked Monaco. "Of course I heard it; 
 of course I heard it," answered the Captain. "What about it? What about 
 it?" "Well, Capitaine, you wanta Monaco die?" There was no answering 
 this conclusive argument, so the Captain had to continue getting his meals as 
 best he could. 
 
 In the afternoon of that day, August '2'.), we suffered our first losses. An 
 ammunition detail was carrying shells from the woods to the gun position, 
 when a heavy hostile shelling commenced. Vannini, Bryant and Kalf took 
 shelter behind an old aeroplane nearby. A shell struck the gasoline tank and 
 caused a tremendous explosion. Vannini and Bryant were terribly burned 
 as well as torn by shell splinters and both died at the first-aid station. Kalf, 
 badly burned and wounded, was taken to the hospital, where he died a few 
 days later. The news of these casualties had a very depressing effect. War- 
 fare had a new meaning for us all. A burying detail dug two graves, side 
 by side, about one hundred meters from the Farm des Dames. Wrapped up 
 in their blankets, our dead comrades were laid at rest. Two rude wooden 
 crosses marked their simple burial places. 
 
 [45] 
 
Aeroplane near battery position near Chcry Chaiireuvc under which Bryant, Kalf and 
 Yannini were mortally wounded. 
 
 The first casualties were always the most vivid reminders of war's stem 
 realities. Now we were ready for anything. The enemy continued his activ- 
 ities for the next week, but we now regarded it as part of our daily life, and 
 only the very unusual would disturb us. In addition, we all felt secure in the 
 knowledge that prayers were being offered up daily for us. There was "Paddy" 
 Curnan, usually under the shelter of the largest tree in the vicinity, with a 
 little prayer-book in his hand, beseeching the good Lord to "bliss us all." 
 The Lord, however, whether he was blessing us or not, didn't seem to be very 
 much interested in filling up the water wagon, nor was "Paddy," so it usually 
 remained empty. This has been ascribed to the fact that "Paddy" didn't like 
 water as a thirst quencher. 
 
 During this entire period, our echelon had been maintained in the Nesle 
 Woods. Every night, ammunition and food supplies were brought up by the 
 drivers, under the able charge of Sergeants French, Von Pless and "Pop" 
 Munday, and Corporals McDonough and Schwab. This was no easy task, for 
 the I'oads were almost constantly under shell fire, and the way had to be 
 carefully picked; and much credit was due to all these men for their aid in 
 this important work. Special details, such as digging details, usually accom- 
 panied the wagons when they came up, and one night, as a member of such a 
 detail, Joe Hornung appeared. The enemy sent over a few shells to greet him, 
 and Joe ducked for the nearest hole. His head came in forcible contact with 
 the corner of the hole and he was "knocked out" for the rest of the war. In 
 this heroic manner, he also earned a wound stripe. Joe has since been making 
 a special study of the hospital system of the American Army, and seems to 
 have found is very satisfactory, for he has spent most of his time in the 
 hospitals. 
 
 [46] 
 

 
 
 
 
 IK**! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "~ < " , x. j 
 
 
 
 Hfcr^- * 
 
 •*-*"*^i 1 , .-•- j 
 
 
 
 oiil Battery I! position on Vesle — used later 
 
 hit Battery h detached piece where 
 
 Sat. Weinhauer was mortally wounded. 
 
 New Cemetery nmr Chery Chartreuve^-ti 
 
 which the graves of many 304 /■'. I. men havt 
 
 been transferred. 
 
 It was just about this time that Lieutenant Tweedy was taken from the 
 battery for assignment with Battery V. During liis first day of duty with 
 them, llic gun position was heavily shelled during a period of firing. One 
 gun-crew was nearly wiped out and Lieutenant Tweedy was seriously wounded. 
 
 On September 3rd, the enemy commenced a very intense artillery fire. 
 Three of our pieces had been removed from the original location to a position 
 inside of the woods. The other piece under Sergeant George Weinhauer was 
 placed in an abandoned gun position, from which Battery B had been shelled 
 out a week before. The shells started landing very close to Winhauer's piece, 
 and he, with splendid presence of mind, immediately ordered his crew to leave 
 the emplacement. He gallantly remained behind to unfuse some, shells which 
 otherwise would have been a source of danger, and was caught by the enemy 
 fire. Several large shell fragments struck him and fatally wounded him. An 
 ambulance was summoned and carried him to the hospital. As a result of 
 these wounds, he died there, September <>th, sincerely mourned by his coin 
 rades. In a short time he had risen from a Private to a Sergeant and was one 
 of the most popular non-commissioned officers in the battery. Even the "buck" 
 privates agreed that though he was a Sergeant, he was a "regular fellow." 
 Mis brave action was commemorated shortly afterward in General Orders. 
 
 The next day, the reason for the heavy shelling became apparent. The 
 observers reported that the Boche were in retreat, and as was his usual 
 custom, he had shot up all of his reserve ammunition instead of leaving it 
 behind. We made up our rolls and packs and were prepared to start as soon 
 as the order lo advance came. It arrived in the late afternoon. The horses 
 and limbers were brought op from the echelon, and as soon as darkness came 
 on, we pulled out of our position in 1 i i j^li spirits, and started on our first 
 advance. 
 
 [47] 
 
Vesle Valley showing Basoches in background. 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 
 ADVANCING TO THE AISNE RIVER. 
 September 4, 1918, to September 14, 1918. 
 
 T has often been represented that the first sight of the gory horrors 
 of a battlefield has filled the soldier with such a horror and disgust 
 that it has turned him sick and affected him mentally for the rest 
 of his life. As we crossed the Vesle River, on the morning of Sep- 
 tember 5, after a night of hard hiking, and, in the light of the breaking day, 
 saw stretched out on both sides of the road, many corpses of both Germans 
 and Americans, no such distressing effect was noticeable to us. Perhaps 
 the rapid succession of events and impressions which had been crowded into 
 our lives for the past month had rendered us callous to new emotions; or 
 the idea of death had no horrors for those whose business it was to inflict 
 death. So we marched by these many corpses, stretched out stark in the 
 final postures which they had taken in their attempts to ward off death, and 
 viewed their faces, already black with corruption, with astonishing lack of 
 concern. Many men, who in civil life would have grown faint at the sight 
 of blood, now looked upon the bloody horrors of recent violent death unaffected, 
 to their own surprise. 
 
 The roads we were marching over had been completely shattered by our 
 own artillery fire. For the first time we saw, close at hand, the results of 
 our own work, and there was no doubt that it had been very effective. Almost 
 all of the giant poplar trees, lining the Kouen-Eheims highroad, had had the 
 upper half of the trunk blasted off by our shells. The villages inside of the 
 enemy lines had been even more effectively destroyed than those we had seen in 
 ruins from enemy fire. 
 
 After traversing the wreckage of the former town of Bazoches, we went 
 into position on the crest of a large hill, overlooking the town. We had 
 barely time to snatch a bite of our reserve rations, when the order to move 
 ahead again came. Under a very hot sun, and in almost exhausted condi- 
 tion, we hiked for several hours until we reached a deep gully near Perles. 
 
 [48] 
 
Omii-ni irithin thr (!< 
 
 Ruins of Bazt 
 
 recently held by the Germans. The guns were put into position just off the 
 road and immediately started firing. The men dug into the sides of the gully, 
 
 and fixed up shelters there. After a few hours, the f 1 was brought up and 
 
 we hungrily devoured the "gold tish" which the meal consisted of. There was 
 very little firing that night, and we were all able to get a good and much 
 needed night's sleep. The following day. our guns were not very active, and 
 we had an opportunity to shave and clean up in the clear spring which ran 
 through the nearby town of I'erles. 
 
 At midnight, we left this position to go further forward. We had gone 
 but several hundred meters up the road, when the threatening buzz of a Ger- 
 man bombing-plane was heard. Of all the sounds of warfare, this was one 
 of the most uncanny. There was a treacherous calmness, a regularity and 
 an evenness to its low buzz which was in contrast to the emotions it pro- 
 duced, and the work it was bent on. As soon as the sound was heard, our 
 carriages were halted and all movement on the road was stopped. In a few 
 moments, a light was dropped from the plane, near the gully, and remained 
 suspended in the air. It luridly lit up the sky and set off the outline of the 
 objects below in a ghostly light. A tremendous crash followed, and the bomb 
 exploded nearby, throwing up a heavy shower of dirt and rocks. This was 
 followed by two similar explosions. Then the light gradually faded, and the 
 buzz became more and more indistinct as the plane moved away. The bombs 
 had struck a barn nearby, injuring one man from Battery P. We moved 
 ahead, as soon as the danger was over, and arrived in a short while at our 
 new position. Two guns went into position in an old German emplacement 
 on the side of a sunken road. The other two were placed a few hundred 
 meters forward, and to the left of the first two, in an open field. The tele- 
 phone wires were laid, everything carefully camouflaged, and all details taken 
 care of, so that there would be no unnecessary activity during the day, for 
 the enemy balloons would have us under observation as soon as daylight came 
 on. The men dug into the banks of the road, and before long, everyone had 
 his own hole — his modest haven of rest, shelter and protection. 
 
 The next few days there was little activity on either side. The enemy, 
 however, always seemed to hold a few shells in reserve for the uninitiated, 
 and when Propp came up from the echelon, with some underwear for the men, 
 they sent over a few to remind him that a war was on. Ellis didn't at all 
 like the sound of these, and was rather anxious to start back. He handed 
 
 [t'.l] 
 
The "sunlcenroad" position on the Aisne plateau near Vauxcere. 
 
 out shirt after shirt, regardless of size. To Corporal Jacobson, who wore 
 a 36, he gave a 42. "Jake" protested, insisting it was too large. "Oh, it's all 
 right, it's all right," answered Propp, "it'll shrink, it'll shrink." The next man 
 on line was Dyer, who wore a i'2. Propp handed him a 36. Dyer insisted 
 that it was too small. "Oh, it's all right, it's all right," again responded 
 Propp, "it'll stretch, it'll stretch." After a half hour of nervous suspense, 
 Propp returned to the echelon. The underwear, however, was not found to 
 be as elastic as his gait, which shrunk as he approached the front, and 
 stretched out as he left it. 
 
 The weather had become extremely disagreeable, and it was raining con- 
 tinually. The road became a quagmire, and the holes in which we slept were 
 wet and uncomfortable. There was but little activity on our part, and we had 
 most of the time to ourselves; but we would much rather have been kept con- 
 stantly occupied, for, with nothing to do, our attention was directed to our- 
 selves. In civil life, with time on our hands, we had had some place to go to, 
 and when the weather was disagreeable and uncomfortable, we had had some 
 place where we could go for shelter. Here we had two alternatives: either 
 we could remain out in the disagreeable weather taking it as it came, or we 
 could crawl into a wet hole in the ground and lie there. We could not sit lip 
 for the holes were usually not high enough. We could not remove our wet 
 clothes, for we had no dry ones to put on, and we dared not remain undressed, 
 for who knew at what moment either the enemy or we ourselves would become 
 active. These miserable conditions caused us to be very low in spirit. An 
 epidemic of diarrhcea went the rounds, and added to our suffering. We felt our 
 utter misery for the first time. 
 
 Our spirits were not improved by the events at that time. On the morn- 
 
 50] 
 
shelter nt battery position n 
 
 ing of September lllth, while seated in a dugout, under a covering of heavy 
 elephant iron, Privates Lincoln, Pessalano and McDevitt were struck by an 
 enemy shell, which made a direct hit through the top of the dugout. Lincoln 
 ami Pessalano were instantly killed; McDevitt was so seriously wounded that 
 he died the next day in the hospital. On that miserable morning, with the 
 rain pouring down, a small burying detail gathered iu the field adjoining 
 the road, and laid these two courageous comrades of ours at rest in the wet 
 ground. Lincoln had just been recommended for appointment as a Corporal, 
 in recognition of his brave and excellent service. Pessalano and McDevitt 
 had been continuously at the front, gallantly sharing all hardships and 
 dangers with us. All three of them were of the best liked among us, and 
 it was with feelings of deep regret and with tears that we saw the wet ground 
 cover them, and the wooden crosses put up to mark their graves. 
 
 In addition to the loss of these men, other changes had taken place in 
 the personnel of the battery. Sergeant Mayer had lefl for Officers' Training 
 School. Lieutenant Eberstadt had been commissioned a Captain and was 
 assigned to Battery F, and Lieutenant Thomas had accompanied him. Lieu- 
 tenants Amy and Egan had been assigned to our battery to fill these 
 vacancies. 
 
 The Observer's Detail, consisting of Corporal Croy, Privates Freeman, 
 Lyons, Tansey, Taylor, Thacker and Ward, with Corporal Miller in charge, 
 were, all this time, doing very dangerous and useful work in supplying us with 
 information as to the activities of the enemy. By the very nature of their 
 duties, they had to be further forward than the rest of us. They had all become 
 experts in climbing trees anil maintaining their holds there, while shells 
 
 [51] 
 
Graves of Lincoln and Pessalano, Aisne sector 
 near "sunken road" position. 
 
 went whistling bj r them in the air. At the Vesle Front, they had seen a Lieu- 
 tenant and a Corporal of the 306th F. A. shot down from a nearby tree, 
 where they were observing, and killed; but our detail resolutely continued 
 its work. As their duties covered both observing work at the forward Obser- 
 vation Posts, and liaison with the "pirate pieces," most of their time was 
 spent with advanced infantry detachments. Separated as they were from the 
 battery, they had to subsist entirely on "Corned Bill," and for this alone they 
 deserved a Croix de Guerre. 
 
 One day, when "Bennie" Freeman was at the advanced horse lines at 
 Perles, after some very strenuous observing work, his eyes and thoughts turned 
 yearningly to the echelon near Bazoches where he could picture delicious 
 "flapjacks" covered with "jellapo" being prepared by such culinary artists as 
 Brotz and "Louie" Apicella. The thought made Bennie's mouth water and 
 he revolved in his fertile red head many a scheme which would bring about 
 his return to the echelon. Looking around, he saw a powerful, vicious- 
 looking stallion tied to a tree nearby. Bennie hurried over and invited a 
 kick, but the brute refused to comply with his request. Bennie mounted him, 
 pulled his tail, tickled his ribs, and tried in many ways to establish contact 
 between the animal's hoofs and some part of his person, but the old "dog" had 
 suddenly developed a fondness for him, and was as gentle as a lamb. Corporal 
 Miller soon came along, and Bennie, much discouraged, had to return with 
 him to the Observation Post. 
 
 On September 12th, Captain Mahon decided that a change of position was 
 desirable, and preparations were made to move out as soon as darkness came 
 on. When the hour to move came, however, the enemy started sending over 
 a choice collection of 150's and we had to take to our holes. A very heavy 
 shelling continued for some time, the shells landing dangerously close. It 
 became so hot that the two forward pieces had to be temporarily abandoned. 
 Corporal Rucker, who was with these pieces when the shelling commenced, 
 was struck in the thumb with a shell splinter, resulting in his being sent to 
 the hospital, and earning for him a wound stripe. Several of the dugouts 
 in the banks of the road were wrecked by shells. The one occupied by Corpo- 
 rals Ostermann and Glass received a direct hit through its roof, entirely 
 wrecking it, and destroying all of their belongings. They, fortunately, were 
 not in it at the time, and so were unharmed. 
 
 [52] 
 
'ft - 
 
 i • -ri .-'• 1 
 
 in Vesle River in foreground. 
 
 Mil in Street, Fi, 
 
 After much excitement and nervousness, the guns were finally moved 
 to the new position in the early morning'. The Telephone Detail, the Machine 
 Gunners, and Corporal Aigeltinger, with Lieutenant Amy in charge, were left 
 behind to take up the wires, the machine guns and the equipment which had 
 been left behind. It was Friday, the 13th, now, aud the day started in a way to 
 justify the fears of the most superstitious. As daylight came on, a heavy 
 bombardment started, and the shells were landing directly in the road. Sev- 
 eral projectiles went through the camouflage covering the Telephone Central, 
 which was entirely in the open in this position. The danger became greater. 
 At last, Lieutenant Amy found it necessary to abandon the position, and 
 ordered the men to run. Dodging the shells, they ran, only to find, when 
 they reached the open fields, that they were in additional danger from the 
 high-velocity "whizz-bangs" which were coming over from the flank. They 
 all reached the new position, however, in safety, and found the battery already 
 established there. Our position here was about two hundred meters from 
 an abandoned German gun position. There was a long system of deep and 
 substantial trenches, into the sides of which enough holes had been burrowed 
 near the new position to accommodate all of the men, for sleeping purposes. 
 While these holes were damp and uncomfortable, nevertheless, they afforded 
 excellent protection. 
 
 During the day enemy aeroplanes were very active and circled almost 
 directly above the position. Many gas shells were sent over by the enemy, 
 hut no damage was done. There was very much talk about our being relieved, 
 hut we had heard this rumor so often that it was hard to believe. 
 
 In the morning of September 14th we supported the French on our right 
 with a heavy barrage. Many aeroplanes and balloons were in the sky as day 
 broke. Our guns continued firing for hours, and the cannoneers worked up 
 to the point of exhaustion. Relief gun-crews were sent up from the echelon, 
 and they took over the work. The strain was telling on every one. It seemed 
 to us all that we could not last much longer. 
 
 That night, the welcome news of relief came. An Italian division was 
 to relieve us. We packed up our equipment, drew in our telephone lines, and 
 at midnight, pulled out of the position. The advance echelon joined us near 
 I'erles, and we moved ahead at a rapid pace. Enemy shells were coming 
 over, but none came dangerously close until we reached Fismes. The roads 
 approaching this town were badly congested. There was the utmost confusion. 
 
 [53] 
 
with Italian, French and American troops, all striving for the right-of-way, 
 and our carriages had to be halted until this was in some measure straightened 
 out. At this juncture, the buzz of a bombing-plane was heard, and soon all 
 of this wild mass of traffic was in full view as a flare, dropped from the plane, 
 lit up the sky. Several bombs crashed with a terrific noise nearby. The need 
 for immediate movement from this dangerous position became apparent, and 
 in a few moments the column started moving hurriedly forward. As we 
 passed through the shattered ruins of Fismes, almost on the run, high-velocity 
 shells started coining over. After having survived a front which had been 
 replete with dangers from the very moment of our entry into it, we did not 
 fancy cashing in now, at the last moment, with relief in sight. The "wiz-z — 
 b-a-n-g!" of these shells did not help to reassure us. They descended so speedily 
 upon us that they seemed to come from nowhere, as their unearthly screech 
 was suddenly heard. Fortunately, most of them were "duds," and though 
 they landed very close to us, did no damage. 
 
 As we got out of this danger-zone and reached the open fields, where 
 enemy shells no longer bothered us, we felt a sense of relief. Every step 
 took us further away from the horrors and dangers which we had been 
 experiencing continually for the past month. That ever-present strain was 
 gradually being lifted from us, and the feeling of lightness and freedom which 
 its removal caused was exhilarating. 
 
 Despite a night of continued and hurried hiking, the morning found us 
 cheerful and happy. It was such a relief to be able to march along in the 
 open sunshine without feeling that enemy eyes were constantly upon us ready 
 to have our lives the moment our attention was the least bit relaxed. And 
 the sights seemed so strange and interesting. It was odd to see houses intact, 
 and occupied by women and children. At the front, we had seen only men 
 in uniform, and the sight, now, of civilian clothes, and of women and children, 
 was another pleasing indication that we were going back to the ways of civili- 
 zation for a short time at least. 
 
 At eight o'clock that morning, we pitched camp in the Bois de Meuniere, 
 through which American divisions had sent the Boche scurrying in their 
 flight from the Ourcq to the Vesle. Although there were many shell-holes on 
 every hand, the pursuit had been sufficiently fast to prevent the usual sicken- 
 ing odors of the battlefield from permeating our present camp. Instead of 
 digging into the ground for shelter, as at the front, we pitched our shelter 
 tents on the grass underneath the big trees. "Mike" Dichich and his assist- 
 ants soon had our own home fires burning in full blaze, and an excellent 
 meal was in preparation, while we washed and shaved, and laid out our 
 blankets in preparation for a restful night's sleep. 
 
 [54] 
 
Chapter VIII. 
 
 GOING INTO THE ARGONNE FOREST. 
 September 15-24, 1918. 
 
 j|X the days of Indian warfare, the warrior painted himself in a 
 hideous manner, so as to strike terror into the heart of his oppo- 
 nent by his horrible appearance. In modern warfare the opponent 
 is rarely seen, and when he does come to view there is nothing par- 
 ticularly hideous about his appearance. The horrors of sight in modern war- 
 fare have not been developed in the individual equipment. This is not true, 
 however, of the horrors of sound. Blood-curdling though the war-cry of the 
 Indian may have been, it was a mild horror in comparison with the sound of 
 the modern battlefield. The ominous buzz of the bombing-plane has been 
 already described. There is also the angry rattle of the machine guns and the 
 cold metallic swish of the sniper's bullet as it cuts the air. The most horrify- 
 ing of all, however, is the sound of shells as they approach through the air and 
 burst. The high explosive and shrapnel shells when they are first heard 
 start with a low wail and develop very rapidly into an unearthly screech. 
 When the shell is to burst nearby, this screech comes to its maximum overhead, 
 and then there is a sudden terrifying swoop downward as the shell strikes 
 and bursts with a terrific explosion. The gas-shell, though similar in sound, 
 has a lighter but more treacherous wail and ends up in a muffled explosion, 
 similar to the sound of a "dud." These noises are usually accompanied by the 
 boom and roar of nearby guns, and the total result is the symphony of the 
 modern battlefield — a medley of fear-inducing and horrifying sounds. 
 
 As we turned in on our first night away from the front, in the Hois de 
 Meuniere none of these nerve-racking sounds were heard. Instead could be 
 heard the laughter and songs of the men as they squatted in groups around 
 their "pup" tents, singing their favorite melodies. There was a great feeling 
 of peace and quiet as they relaxed and rested under a heaven dotted with 
 bright stars. Smoking was allowed and it was a strange sight to see the lights 
 of the cigarettes about in the darkness; a sight which we had never seen at 
 the front, for it might have meant death to us there. 
 
 After a restful and undisturbed night's sleep we were beginning to antici- 
 pate a pleasant stay in the woods, when we were informed the next morning 
 that we would move that night. Accordingly we started out at eight o'clock. 
 The men were allowed to smoke during rests, and conditions were much better 
 than they had ben on marches at the front. After midnight, while we were 
 hiking along a wide road, lined with tall trees, a wind, rain and electric 
 
 [55] 
 
storm arose. The men presented strange figures in the darkness, with the 
 gale blowing their slickers about their forms as they trod on with their packs 
 in the heavy rain. Every now and then a streak of lightning would illuminate 
 the surroundings. The wind whistled and howled through the trees. The 
 horses became unruly and the drivers had all they could do to hold them in 
 check. The storm subsided after a while, and when, at four A. M. we 
 reached our destination, Chene la Reine, it was clear. We pitched camp 
 in a pretty spot along a. winding brook. 
 
 Here we remained until the following evening. During the day many 
 of us bathed in the brook and changed our underclothes. The Commissary 
 was opened up by "Moe" Weissberger, who dispensed candy, cookies and 
 smokes, all at a reasonable figure. There was enough to go around and every- 
 one was soon satisfying a sweet tooth which had long been neglected. "Oiving" 
 Klesmer gathered a group around him and soon had a vaudeville show of his 
 own in full swing. 
 
 Opening up with "B' , fellers, I was goin' t' buy cigarettes fer the 
 
 fellers, but B' , I forgot," he gained the sympathy of his audience at once. 
 
 He then told of the days when, as a conductor on the New York street-cars, 
 
 he had ''gypped'' the company. "B' , fellers, when I finished up the day, 
 
 the President of the Company thanked me fer bringing the car back." He 
 then introduced that popular New York song success, "When It's Peach-Jam 
 Making Time." Wiggling his graceful person and rolling his eyes he sang 
 this with a syncopation entirely original. The audience joined in the chorus 
 and "Oiving's" show was soon a roaring success. 
 
 At nightfall the cannoneers and telephone detail departed on trucks with 
 all their equipment. They rode all night, arriving in the morning at Braux- 
 St. Remy, a small village near St. Menehold, where they were billeted in an 
 old sheep shed, together with similar details from the other batteries of the 
 regiment. The total population of the village was 144. These were the first 
 American troops to be billeted in the town and consequently the few inhabit 
 ants did not know of the demand for "pommes de terres" which would arise 
 upon their arrival, and were unprepared. The rations didn't come up for some 
 time, so when they did arrive they were devoured greedily, even though they 
 consisted of "gold-fish" and hard tack. 
 
 During the three days that we remained at Braux, the rations consisted 
 almost entirely of "Corned Willy," and the men found it necessary to engage 
 some meals in private houses. Many dinner parties were formed, and chief 
 among these was the one presided over by our only representative from Portu- 
 gal, the illustrious Antonio Joachim Simas. The party consisted of several 
 French soldiers, several mademoiselles, and several poor "Americains sol- 
 dats." Joachim, with a wit, wisdom and eloquence which has always distin- 
 guished him, made this table the intellectual center of the town. The slander- 
 ous tongue of the jealous had suggested that it was the mademoiselles who were 
 drawing him nightly to this house, but let it be said once and for all that it 
 was rather his love for that most delicious of all culinary preparations — roast 
 rabbit — that was the cause of his presence every night. And upon the rabbit 
 hangs the tale of Joachim's financial undoing. 
 
 On the night of September 20th, Joachim had just completed a tasty meal, 
 
 [56] 
 
and, content in body and spirit was returning to the billets. He had left his 
 last fifteen francs with one of the mademoiselles for the purchase and prepara- 
 tion of a rabbit for the following evening. He was already picturing the table 
 spread for the meal, and the thought of the delicately browned meat, floating 
 around in a delicious gravy, was causing an excessive flow of his saliva. 
 Suddenly his deep meditations were disturbed by the rude sound of a bugle. 
 Joachim hastened to the billets to find everyone with pack rolled ready to 
 move out. He had barely time to roll his own before starting on the march 
 and he had to reluctantly leave behind his fifteen francs, taking with him in 
 place of them the dream of a roast rabbit which might have been. 
 
 We hiked most of the night and pitched camp in an orchard on the other 
 side of St. Menehold, where we remained for the next three days. Food con- 
 ditions continued to be poor as rations were slow in coining up. Klesmer, 
 however, helped out in this emergency. He "salvaged" several bushels of 
 potatoes from a nearby field, requisitioned a frying-pan from a farm-house, 
 and was soon frying potatoes "fer th' boys'* at one franc per mess-kit. After 
 Irving had sold out his stock, thus adding many francs to his possessions, he 
 
 said, "B' , fellers, I was glad to do it fer th' boys — I'm always glad to 
 
 help th' boys out." 
 
 On the night of September 23rd, we were lined up on the road to await 
 the arrival of the rest of the battery, who had been covering on foot the ground 
 that the trucks had carried us over. The weather had been extremely disagree- 
 able, and after forced day and night marches, they had to turn in on wet and 
 muddy ground. Due to the efforts of Sergeant French and "Bob" Freedman in 
 providing "extras" the meals had been excellent and this had helped ease the 
 strain of the trip. Nevertheless, they were "all in" from lack of sleep and rest. 
 and were glad to hear that their destination would be reached that night. 
 
 At H) :30 they arrived. The cannoneers took their places behind their 
 respective pieces, and the telephone men behind the telephone wagon. With 
 the battery again complete, the march was resumed. The spirits of everybody 
 were raised by the reunion as greetings were exchanged, and the members 
 of the two groups "swopped" experiences with each other. 
 
 After hours of hiking we pulled into very beautiful country. We had 
 just climbed a succession of hills and attained quite an altitude. Tall trees 
 lined the splendid Paris to Metz highroad over which we were travelling. 
 Benches were laid out under the trees and overlooked the valleys which lay on 
 both sides of the road. It seemed like a beautiful parkway. Light mists had 
 settled in the valleys, giving the impression of beautiful lakes. Further off 
 could be seen the dark outline of woods. The air was fresh and invigorating. 
 The setting was so beautiful and so different from what it had been at our 
 last front that it was difficult to realize that any fighting could be going on 
 nearby. Though we now knew that we were returning to some part of the 
 front, we pictured it as being some quiet, restful, sylvan dell, where we could 
 breathe the fresh mountain air and recuperate from our recent hardships. 
 
 The combat train left us at Le Claon, where the Echelon was to be estab 
 lished. while the firing battery continued on the march. We passed infantry 
 from the 40th division going in as replacements for our own division. As 
 they were all Western boys and "Rookies," we as old veterans gave them a few 
 
pointers about the front. We soon reached La Chalade. Here we met our 
 guide, "Bennie" Freeman, who directed us up a very steep path to our right. 
 The horses had a difficult pull and it took all the remaining energy of both 
 them and the drivers to get the guns up, after their many days of hard travel. 
 After continued climbing we came into an excellent road running through a 
 heavy evergreen forest. As we proceeded we almost bumped into the muzzles 
 of many large naval guns which were already in position. A regiment of 
 8-inch howitzers was going into position and the large guns with their tractors 
 were still lined up on the road. 
 
 At last we pulled into our own position, which was iu the woods, only a 
 few yards off the road. The guns were immediately laid by Lieutenant Richard 
 and the usual net of camouflage spread over them. Corporal Levins and Chief 
 Mechanic Philpot put on the final touches, so that when daylight came our 
 arrival would not be apparent to the eyes of enemy fliers. When this was 
 completed we tumbled off to sleep in the surrounding woods, with the feeling 
 of satisfaction derived from a job well done. 
 
 [58] 
 
Chapter IX. 
 
 THE ARGONNE. 
 September 24th to October 18th, 1918. 
 
 llN'E of the main advantages of having an army made up of young 
 men is the fact that it is so much easier to maintain a hopeful 
 morale in a youthful army than in one of older men. When faced 
 with two probabilities as to the course which future events might 
 take, one pleasant and the other unpleasant, the natural tendency of healthy 
 youth is to believe in the cheerful probability. Optimism is so natural to the 
 young soldier that one who accepts the unpleasant probability is usually 
 called "Calamity" or "Gloom," or some other name indicating his pessimism. 
 This trait persists despite frequent disappointments. When we had left Camp 
 de Souge we were faced with the probability of going to another training-camp 
 or going to the front. We believed we were going to another Tamp, but soon 
 found ourselves on the Lorraine front. When we had left the Lorraine front, 
 we believed we were going to Italy or the Philippines, where we could sport 
 campaign hats and dress shoes, but instead we landed at the Vesle front. Now, 
 after being disappointed in our hope that we were going to a rest camp, we 
 adopted the belief that we were going into a quiet, inactive sector where we 
 
 could recuperate in the midst of w Hand charms, but were soon again disillu 
 
 sionized. We were in the Argonne Forest and a tremendous drive was soon to 
 commence. 
 
 The Argonne is made up of a series of parallel ridges covered with 
 heavy woods, chiefly pine and hemlock. Deep valleys intervene between these 
 ridges. Our position was on the crest of one of these, while the enemy was 
 strongly fortified on the ridges ahead of us, where he had had four years to 
 render his position secure. Our own artillery was so greatly concentrated 
 here that for kilometres gnus adjoined guns, frequently with no more than 10 
 metres between them. The entire 2nd Battalion of our regiment was placed 
 on a front of 100 metres. On our division front more than 200 pieces of artil- 
 lery were placed. One could walk along and see on both sides of the road 
 battery after battery, both French and American, of every size and description. 
 And on the wooded ridge to our rear there was a similar concentration. 
 
 On the rear slope of our ridge were numerous trenches and dugouts all 
 well prepared and fortified, in which our men took shelter. Further down 
 the slope there were dugouts elaborately fitted with shower-baths and other 
 conveniences, which the French had used during the past three years while 
 there had been practically no activity here. A drive through these heavy 
 
 [59] 
 
Site of First Battery D position- in Argonne 
 Forest, September 26th, 1918. 
 
 woods and over these steep ridges had up to now been considered practically 
 impossible. Many of the French soldiers who knew the sector from experience 
 expressed great astonishment at the idea of launching an attack against such 
 defences with winter approaching. 
 
 The day following our arrival was clear aud sunshiny, and the air very 
 invigorating. There was a busy stir everywhere as trees were being sawed 
 through to make firing possible. Telephone lines were being laid and camou- 
 flage was being perfected. Everybody had his own job and everyone was 
 doing it cheerfully. The sight of the tremendous concentration of guns and 
 the feeling that we were going to "pull off" something big on the enemy, who 
 from his inactivity seemed to be entirety unsuspecting, had filled us with con- 
 fidence and a new enthusiasm. The old dreams of a sector of quietness and rest 
 had been entirely forgotten, and we were all eager for the fireworks to start. 
 Sergeant Aigeltinger and Corporal Stuart with a large detail and every avail- 
 able G. S. wagon worked furiously day and night bringing up every round of 
 ammunition which they could beg, borrow or steal. As a result of their efforts 
 the respectable total of 3,000 rounds was accumulated at the battery dump. 
 
 Every precaution was being taken to keep the enemy in ignorance as to 
 the presence of Americans there. Our men who worked in positions where 
 they might be observed were required to wear French uniforms. After the 
 telephone lines had been laid no conversation was permitted over them for 
 fear that enemy amplifiers might pick up some English word and so learn of 
 our presence. 
 
 On the evening of. September 25th we were informed that the big show 
 was coming off that night. Most of the trees were still standing, although 
 they had been sawed through, so that it would take only a few additional 
 strokes of the axe to fell them. As the guns were located in a dense part of 
 the forest it meant that hundreds of big trees must be levelled before a shot 
 could be fired. Under cover of darkness the final chopping commenced. Under 
 the skillful strokes of such craftsmen as Fhilpot, Price, Simonson, Pfaff, 
 Downes, Beglan, Heller, and Walters the giant trees were soon crashing to 
 earth. We waited with eagerness for the hour to commence firing to add our 
 boost to the smash which, with our usual optimism, we felt sure would be the 
 final one. At midnight the guns to our left started firing, and shortly after- 
 wards the "heavies'' began, with their resonant boom, shelling the enemv 
 
 [60] 
 
rear areas. Our firing schedule began at '2::W A. M., and then the big noise 
 started. Every gun, big and little, French and American, was soon booming 
 and banging and barking away at the enemy, and the grand medley of noises 
 was music to our ears. For three hours we kept up harassing tire on German 
 lines of communication. At r>:.">ll o'clock, the "zero" hour for the infantry 
 attack, we laid down a rolling barrage at the rate of three rounds per gun 
 per minute. We kept this up at varying rates of speed until noon. 
 
 The morning had dawned clear and agreeable. The valley was tilled with 
 smoke from the firing and the air was full of the smell of powder. Lines of 
 Boche prisoners were being brought in. and as we curiously scrutinized them 
 they did not seem to be as formidable as we, in imagination, had pictured 
 them. They were for the most part old men, and seemed to Jie a docile and 
 cringing lot. The divisions facing us in this sector at the beginning of the 
 drive were mostly Landwehr and Reserve Troops. 
 
 News came in over the wire that the infantry was making splendid 
 progress through the numerous roads of barbed-wire entanglements and trench 
 systems. The preliminary bombardments had smashed these up considerably 
 and the dense rolling barrage had made the few remaining Boche front-line 
 troops take cover in their deep dug-outs. Here they were found by the "dough- 
 boys," who either took them prisoner or finished them with hand-grenades, 
 depending on whether the detached groups had any tight left in them or not. 
 
 By evening we learned that all of our objectives had been attained and 
 that the infantry was still advancing, so we were not surprised when the 
 order came to move out. At midnight we started. We had to descend the 
 steep ridge on which we were, and ascend the one in front of us, and it needed 
 all the skill of our drivers to accomplish this in the inky darkness. Time and 
 again the carriages were stuck, but Sergeant French or Corporal Schwab 
 were soon around, and with the assistance of the cannoneers on the wheels 
 the difficulty was quickly straightened out. 
 
 We arrived at our new position, designated on the French maps as Sepl 
 Fontaines, in the early morning and were soon tiring. The enemy did not 
 bark back at all, and we had no occasion to seek protection in the long system 
 of (ihris which were constructed in the slope of the ridge to the rear of our 
 guns, though we did use them for sleeping purposes. At noon "Louie" Api- 
 cella, "Charlie" (lever and "Izzie" Schwartz, who had accompanied us on the 
 advance, had mess ready, and wonder of all wonders, we had home-made apple 
 
 [61] 
 
No Man's Land in the Argonne where the In- 
 fantry went over Sept. 26th, 1918. 
 
 .1 familiar sign on the much used road 
 through the Argonne. 
 
 pie. In civil life this would have been nothing unusual, but to us now it was 
 au eveut worthy of special mention. Due to the shortage of sugar in the 
 daily diet, we had developed an abnormal hankering for sweets, so that choco- 
 late and candy were worth their weight in gold. Apple pie was in the same 
 class, and to be able to have such a luxury on an advance made the movement 
 doubly a success. Unfortunately there were no "seconds," though "Dan" 
 Philpot, with his usual success in such matters, succeeded iu bluffing "Izzie" 
 out of a second portion. Galiano also, on the plea that it was "for the 
 officers," was successful iu getting a few additional portions, but the expres- 
 sion of satisfaction and elation on his face for the rest of the day was a sure 
 indication that the officers had never seen the "seconds." 
 
 The following afternoon we moved out again in a further advance, passing- 
 over territory occupied by the Germans that morning. As we crossed "No- 
 Man's Land," the deadly work of our large concentration of artillery was 
 visible. Almost every foot of the ground was plowed up by shell-holes and 
 the negro engineers of the 02nd Division had their hands full constructing a 
 hasty dirt road over the trackless area. Dead bodies, both American and 
 German, were stretched out here and there along the road. There was not 
 a single live tree for more than one kilometre, nothing but the bare, blackened 
 skeleton trunks of trees. The flocks of black crows flying about in the dark 
 threatening clouds overhead added to the picture of desolation and destruc- 
 tion which was stretched out before us — truly a "No-Man's Land." 
 
 It started to rain very heavily, so that when we pulled into position near 
 Abri St. Louis we worked in a downpour. A company of colored engineers 
 was assigned to aid us prepare the emplacements. The position was in the 
 midst of a maze of trenches and shell-holes — a reserve trench system of the 
 Boche line. As no fires could be built we had to content ourselves with a 
 cold meagre mess consisting of a "Corned Willy" sandwich. The rain con- 
 tinued all night and when we awoke the following morning we found our 
 blankets and clothes dripping wet. We gathered around the fire which the 
 cooks were now allowed to build, and while breakfast was being prepared 
 tried to get some of the moisture out of our clothes. 
 
 The next two days we remained here, and on October 1st started on an- 
 other advance. Dead bodies, again, were stretched out all along the road. 
 Wooden signs with German inscriptions on them were posted at all cross- 
 
 [02] 
 
roads. It seemed to us as though we were already advancing into Germany. 
 Curnan tried to pronounce the names of a few of the "strasses" we were 
 passing over, but almost broke his teeth in the attempt. Walters, Brotz, and 
 the other Dutchmen of the Battery had no such difficulty, however, and "Wil- 
 helmstrasse" and "Konigstrasse" came as easily to them as "Begorrah" did 
 to Pat. 
 
 When we arrived at our position at Pont a l'Aune we received a warm 
 reception. Machine-gun bullets were whistling by and "whizzrbangs" were 
 bursting all around us. This was close to the front line, which we could 
 judge from the clearness with which we heard the enemy machine guns as 
 they rattled off their charges. Our own infantry and machine guns were close 
 by. The need lor quick action was seen ami the guns were rapidly laid and 
 camouflaged and telephone communication established. Every one dug a 
 "foxhole" for the night without further urging. 
 
 The enemy continued to be very active while we were forced to remain 
 quiet, for we were so close to them that we could not tire for fear of not clear- 
 ing the trees ahead and our own infantry lines. At about 3:00 A. M. of this 
 pitch-black night Boche activity increased. Meehan was wounded by a "whizz- 
 bang" fragment in his arm during his tour of guard at the guns. Bakken, 
 who was on an ammunition detail was hit by a shell fragment. He was car- 
 ried by Sergeant French and Wagner, Lindgreu and Nihan to the telephone hut, 
 from which Lieutenant Richard and the medical men Robinson and Epstein 
 were summoned. First-aid treatment was applied to him while an ambulance 
 was hurried up by Corporal Oglesby, our faithful Battalion agejit, whose abil- 
 ity in prowling around in the darkness won him the reputation of being the 
 best agent in the battalion. Bakken, Meehan and an infantryman, who was 
 also injured nearby, were taken away. Bakken unfortunately died on the 
 way to the hospital, bringing the total of our dead to eight. His quiet and 
 uncomplaining devotion to duty had won him a warm place in our hearts. 
 
 As the infantry advance had been temporarily checked the present posi- 
 tion was useless and a change was ordered. On the afternoon of October 3rd 
 we drew back to Abri de Crochet and went into position near an old German 
 gun emplacement there. An elaborate system of trenches and dugouts was 
 found nearby and all men who were not actually with the guns had an 
 excellent place in which to sleep. The kitchen was established in the valley 
 to our rear. For the next six days we lived in comparative comfort. The 
 dugouts were furnished with wire bunks and were the best we had yet encoun- 
 tered. Excellent meals were being prepared by the cooks. The tiring sched- 
 ule was not very heavy on account of the impossibility of observation in the 
 forest and the men got plenty of sleep, "Jerry" did not locate our position 
 as it had been excellently camouflaged by those past-masters in the art of 
 deception, "Steve" Levins and "Pete" Cream All of these facts contributed 
 to make our stay here comparatively restful. During this period, Sergeant 
 Clackner came up with some equipment for us. New underwear was issued, 
 and as we discarded the old, many a "cootie"' lost a home. As new breeches 
 were also issued, Sergeant Osterman could again walk around without being 
 guilty of indecent exposure. 
 
 It was during this time that the famous "Lost Battalion" became separ- 
 
 [63] 
 
Wire entangle 
 
 No Man's Land, Argonne. 
 
 ated from its support during an attack. Although the troops involved were 
 of the 154th Infantry Brigade adjoining the one our regiment was supporting, 
 we joined in the artillery preparation of the successful relief attack that 
 rescued the beleaguered troops after a six-day siege. This thiust, as well as 
 advances on our right flank caused the Boche to retire from their strong 
 position along the La Viergette-Binarville highroad. On October 9th, the 
 infantry having swept forward, we followed and took up a position near the 
 La Viergette crossroad. Our stay here was not very long, however, for the 
 next morning we were on the march again, pulling into position about 4 :00 
 P. M. in the Bois de la Taille. The P. C. was established in a long trench and 
 the guns were put into position nearby. The enemy was still burning towns 
 ahead of us, so we did not anticipate a very long stay. We did remain for 
 two days, however, and these days were full of excitement. 
 
 One of our pieces, with Lieutenant Richard and with a gun-crew com- 
 prised of Sergeant Grandin, Lambe, Barth, Downes, Farrell, Coffey, Howard 
 and Aske, and a telephone detail made up of Corporals Schapiro and Jonas, 
 McBride, Talbot, Thompson and Tansey, went forward to do some direct 
 firing if possible. The report was current that the remaining three pieces 
 would also go further forward for direct fire. In the afternoon of October 
 12th the orders came to move. Every necessary preparation was made and 
 we were already lined up ready to pull out when the- orders were cancelled 
 and the guns put back into position immediately. We fired for about one-half 
 hour and then the order to move forward again came. This time we did pull 
 out and marched very hurriedly for about two kilometers. We drew our 
 pieces into a field near the village of La Besogne and waited there while the 
 Captain hurried down to General Witteumyer's P. C. for further instruc- 
 
 [64] 
 
lions. When lie returned he informed us that we would stay there for the 
 night instead of going further forward. This was to be a halfway stop 
 towards the dangerous position from which we would have to do the direct 
 tiring. 
 
 In view of the importance and risk of our mission, and because of the 
 fact that Lieutenant Richard was away with his "pirate" piece we were 
 temporarily assigned two other officers, Lieutenants Stevens and Danieis. The 
 next morning Captain Mahon, Lieutenant Lunny, Lieutenant Stevens, Chief 
 Mechanic Philpot and Corpora] Glass left as a reconnaisance party to decide 
 on the forward position. The battery awaited their return with much interest. 
 When they did arrive it was learned that they had found a suitable position, 
 and the battery was to go forward that night. In the afternoon a digging 
 detail was sent ahead to prepare the position and the telephone detail to lay 
 its lines. The location was in open view of the enemy, and the utmost care 
 had to be taken to avoid detection. As they were within range of snipers' 
 bullets it was necessary for the men to crawl on their bellies as they worked, 
 in order to attract no attention. Enemy aeroplanes were very active overhead 
 and operations often had to be suspended because of them. To their right 
 enemy shells were crashing at regular intervals into the town of Marcq. 
 Every preparation was made, so that the guns could come in that night under 
 cover of darkness and so that after dawn there would be no unusual activity. 
 We could then await the moment for the attack and open up. When evening 
 came the firing battery was in readiness for moving and we anticipated a big 
 experience. The Captain was almost in constant touch with Lieutenant Colonel 
 McCleave and General Wittenmyer. -Inst as we were starting out a runner 
 from the General's P. G. came up with orders that we would not go forward 
 but would take up a position right where we were. Pleased with the turn 
 events had taken we worked with a vim. The telephone detail had a very 
 difficult task laving a line to Infantry Headquarters, but, after a tiring night 
 of work for the entire detail, communication was, as usual, satisfactorily 
 established. The ammunition detail under Sergeant Aigeltinger also worked 
 all night bringing up shells over the muddy sunken road which led from our 
 position to La Besogne. At daybreak everything was in order. 
 
 In the meantime life had been as pleasant and uneventful as usual in the 
 Echelon at Lancon. The busiest department there was the Commissary, 
 which was always in full swing. Undisturbed by the wild din of the battle 
 field they lived their lives in quiet and peace, being reminded that a war was 
 on only when some of the men returning from the front for a rest told them 
 of it. On Sunday, October 13th, after the inhabitants of the peaceful place 
 had performed their morning ablutions, had shaved and manicured their finger- 
 nails and had had their usual buttered toast for breakfast. Chaplain Howard 
 arrived to deliver a sermon. Germany had just expressed her willingness to 
 accept settlement based on President Wilson's peace terms, and there was even 
 more than the usual note of hope in the Chaplain's speech as he told about it. 
 The end of the war was only a matter of days he informed his willing listeners. 
 His address made a marked impression on everyone, and when he finished his 
 audience was convinced that the war was well-nigh at an end. Sergeants 1,'ug 
 giero and Ronayne, Corporal Freedman, Machby and Joe Newman had just 
 
 [65] 
 
Orchard near Marcq where Lt. Richard's 
 sniping gun operated. 
 
 returned to the rear, being relieved after many days of hardship, and. of 
 course, the thought of peace was a pleasing one to them. They had listened 
 with eagerness to the Chaplain's words and were absolutely convinced that 
 this was the last day of the war. It was a beautiful mild sunshiny day, and 
 the future looked bright with hope. It certainly would be a shame to be 
 caught by an enemy shell at that last moment. Though they were all religious 
 youths and anxious to join their Maker in due time, they did not feel that 
 their time was due yet, so they held a joint consultation to devise ways and 
 means by which they could feel certain that they would be among the living 
 the following morning when the treaty of peace was read. "Bob," with his 
 usual fertility of resource, discovered a large, substantial, bomb-proof dugout 
 nearby, and in it they decided to take shelter for the night. A pinochle and a 
 poker deck were provided and they were soon settled down for an enjoyable 
 and secure night. 
 
 After a peaceful slumber, during which they had many a pleasant dream, 
 they awoke the next morning feeling very joyful and thankful that they were 
 still alive. The peacefulness of the echelon atmosphere helped to sustain 
 their fond hopes and when they issued forth into the light of the day they 
 felt certain that never again would they have to wear a "tin derby." They 
 soon learned the truth, however, and Joe was convinced that it was all a 
 scheme and that the chaplain's speech was nothing more than a "morale 
 builder." 
 
 Meanwhile, Lieutenant Richard and his "pirate piece" crew needed no 
 argument to convince them that the war was still on. After they had left us 
 to go forward for direct fire they had taken a position on a wooded ridge to 
 the right and in front of La Besogne. The enemy had direct observation and 
 whether or not he detected their presence, he made things pretty hot. Here 
 it was that "Paddy" Bowler lost his team through enemy shell Are. "Paddy" 
 was greatly grieved at this misfortune, but though he loved his team it was 
 not the fact that they had been killed that worried him, for, after all, as he 
 expressed it, "The good Lord wucl take care of thim," but the fact that, having 
 lost his team, he might lose his status as a driver was causing him much con- 
 cern, for he didn't care to become "wan of thim common cannoneers." 
 
 Two days later at midnight the order to move forward came. The infantry 
 was to attack St. Juvin and force the crossing of the Aire River. It was only 
 
 [66] 
 
the heroic work of Corporal McDonough and the drivers Bradshaw, Olaus 
 Johnson, Christensen, Fisher, O'Brien, Barham and Carlsen thai made it 
 possible to draw the gun and the two <!. S. wagons over the very rough mads. 
 and the wrecked railroad beds. As day broke they advanced down the La 
 Besogne-Marcq road into the latter town. Although they were in plain view 
 and an attractive target the Boche [(referred not to tire on them jnst yet. It 
 took eight horses to pull the gun into position up the hill to the east id' Marcq. 
 •Inst as they hurried into position the enemy registered on them, but by quick 
 work the horses were gotten away in time. On account of the severe shelling 
 throughout the area it was impossible to maintain telephone communication 
 with the infantry. A runner brought the message to tire at any good target, 
 of which there were plenty by this time. At s A. M. our infantry started 
 "Over the Top," and our machine guns to the rear of the "pirate piece" 
 opened up a ban-age. Caught between our own bullets and the enemy shells 
 the cannoneers could only get off a few rounds before they hail to abandon the 
 piece temporarily. A second attempt to Are was greeted with a murderous 
 deluge of high explosives which prevented any effective work. After the 
 machine-gun tire had subsided it was decided to change position. Johnson 
 was missing and it was later found that he was in the hospital wounded. 
 Tansey had also been hit and was evacuated. Two of the battalion telephone 
 detail had become casualties trying to keep the line in repair. 
 
 During a lull in the shelling the limbers were driven down to the gun 
 and made a skillful escape over the rough ground and amid further shelling. 
 With great difficulty the gun was pulled up the forward slope of the hill 
 and continued tiring from there. It remained in this position the next few 
 days and because of the splendid observation accomplished some effective work 
 against the Boche. In one instance an enemy concentration that appeared 
 to be gathering for a counter-attack was dispersed with shrapnel. 
 
 On October 18th we were relieved by the TSth Division. Though we had 
 a long hike through muddy and rough roads the warm sun amid the clear 
 sky and the fact that we were leaving a front which promised to be our last 
 made us all cheerful and happy. As we were passing beyond Chatel Chehery 
 a terrific explosion took place, sending up a very heavy shower of dirt and 
 stones. It was one of the mines left behind for our benefit by the enemy. 
 We proceeded without mishap, however, and in the early evening reached our 
 destination, Four de Paris. The regiment was encampd between La Hazaree 
 and Four de Paris, on the ground that had been the original "No-Man's Laud," 
 now about 20 kilometers from the front line. 
 
 [<!7] 
 
Chapter X. 
 
 IN RESERVE. 
 
 October 18th to October 31st, 1918. 
 
 UKING our stay at the last front we had made the very intimate 
 acquaintance of the "cootie," vulgarly termed the louse. There is 
 an old adage that too much familiarity breeds contempt, and it 
 must be admitted that their increasing intimacy with us did not 
 add to our respect for them. While this feeling was being bred in us, large 
 "cootie" families were being bred on us, and ere many days hosts of bewhis- 
 kered "cootie" sires with families that would have done a Mormon proud, 
 were doing squads East, squads West ami a variety of other formations on 
 the excellent drill-grounds provided by our persons. The theory of race suicide 
 had not as yet been preached by "cootie" demagogues with the result that, they 
 still had the old-fashioned habit of producing large families. They had respect 
 for neither race, color, rank nor previous condition of cleanliness and no 
 ground was too sacred for them to tread on. 
 
 One da} 7 while at the last position, Sergeant Aigeltinger, who was con- 
 vinced that even a "cootie" woidd be awed by the name of Wall Street made 
 a bet with Sergeant Grandin that none of these pestiferous insects could be 
 found on him. A committee of judges, consisting of Sergeant Darling, Cor- 
 poral Freedman and Corporal Schlosser, all of whom were admitted to be 
 competent judges on the sidjject, were chosen. "Tingle" removed his nether 
 shirt and exposed the surface of his freckled back to view. It took no mag- 
 nifying glass to see the large "cootie" stallion which was then galloping down 
 his back. The said "cootie" was almost large enough to wear horseshoes, and 
 there were some suggestions made to adopt it as the battery mascot. As the 
 presence of one of his kind would seem to indicate, there were main' infant 
 "cooties" also present, and the judges, after due deliberation, rightly decided 
 that Sergeant Grandin was the winner. 
 
 The day after our arrival at Four de Paris, we were informed that we 
 were going to be "deloused." Though we were uot as yet initiated into the 
 mysteries of this proceeding we knew in a general way that it promised to 
 rid us of the pest, so we greeted the news with cheers. We marched to the 
 "Delousing Station" nearby, where we removed all of our clothes. As these 
 were taken off they were thrown into a heap amid the sad and touching senti- 
 ment of the song, "How Can I Bare to Leave Thee." We then passed into a 
 tent and were allowed five minutes under a shower. At the end of this period 
 the water was turned off aud we were rushed, still wet, through the cold air, into 
 an adjoining tent, where an abnormal barrage of shoes, breeches, shirts, etc., 
 
 [68] 
 
was tired at us. We put these on, outside of the tent, regardless of tit, and 
 then returned to the battery, where uniforms were changed about. Glass and 
 Petersen "swopped" breeches and were then both properly fitted as to length; 
 Noxon and l'ropp did likewise with their blouses and were fitted as to their 
 width. 
 
 The two days that we spent in this camp were marked by heavy rain, 
 with the result that the low ground was very muddy and living conditions in 
 our wet "pup" tents disagreeable. On the morning of the third day, we pulled 
 out of Four de Paris and hiked to Les Islettes. a railhead several kilometres 
 away. There we pitched out tents in a strip of woods on the slope of a hill, 
 ditched and camouflaged them, and in good spirits, settled down for a short 
 stay, believing that the railroad nearby would soon carry us away to some resl 
 point. Though we were still being held in reserve we all believed that as soon 
 as transportation was ready we would be relieved. Furloughs had already 
 been issued to Lieutenants Richard and Lunny, and were ready for the men. 
 
 On the evening of October 24th this dream came to an end when we were 
 ordered to prepare to return to the front. All furloughs were cancelled. The 
 following morning we were up at 4:30 and in a few hours were on the inarch. 
 retracing our steps to the front. After a full day of hiking we arrived in the 
 early evening near Chatel Chehery, where we pitched camp. A French news 
 paper was obtained from a French soldier and it had published President Wil- 
 son's reply to Germany, expressing his willingness to discuss an armistice with 
 responsible representatives id' the German people. The fact that Germany 
 was begging for it. and the rumors we were hearing about conditions there and 
 in Austria, made us feel more confident than ever that the conflict would 
 soon be over. And though we were disappointed at being recalled to the 
 front so soon, this feeling quickly gave way to one of enthusiasm and hope. 
 
 The following morning a detail of cannoneers, under Sergeant Lowell, and 
 the Telephone Detail, under Sergeant Osterman, started for the gun position. 
 After a long hike over very congested roads, through Chehery and Fleville 
 they arrived at the position, on the slope of a hill, in a small strip of woods 
 behind Sommerance. The work was done with great diligence, and when eve- 
 ning came on the guns were laid, a long line to Battalion Headquarters 
 stretched and every preparation made for firing. A telephone guard and a 
 guard on the pieces were left behind while the rest of the detail returned to 
 
 [C,!)] 
 
the echelon at Chatel Chehery. These guards were relieved daily for the next 
 few days. The rest of the battery remained at the echelon, awaiting orders 
 to move forward. 
 
 Physically the men were in poor condition, as many as twenty-one being 
 on sick report in one day. Their spirit, however, was excellent. The news 
 had just arrived of Austria's withdrawal from the conflict, and Germany was 
 reported to be growing weaker daily. Though the preparations that were 
 being made, such as parking in a forward position the caissons loaded with 
 ammunition, indicated that we expected to make a rapid and arduous advance, 
 we felt that it only needed a final rapid thrust to put an end to the Boche, 
 and with this end in view we pushed our efforts to the utmost. Every evening 
 there were spirited discussions around the kitchen with "Peace" as the subject, 
 and the usual wild Army rumors went the rounds. 
 
 On the evening of October 31st orders came to move up to the front 
 before midnight. At about 9 o'clock the gun-crews and details started out in 
 groups at half hour intervals. Many feeling handshakes were exchanged 
 between those going forward and those remaining behind. The opinion was 
 general that we were facing the hardest struggle of any we had yet under- 
 taken, and that if we survived this one we would never have to face another. 
 With a feeling of determined energy and purpose we pulled out of our posi- 
 tion to the main road below. 
 
 [70] 
 
Chapter XL 
 
 ARGONNE-MEUSE. 
 November 1st to November 11th. 
 
 HE road lay clear ahead of us, with no oilier vehicles in sight. As 
 we started forward ai a brisk gait the nearby booming of the bi.u 
 guns could be heard. There was a resonance and strength to their 
 lusty roar that tilled us with confidence. The tiring was only of 
 the usual proportion at thai lime so as not to give the enemy any premature 
 indications of coming events. We had seen in the daylight the heavy concen- 
 tration of artillery all along this very road and we knew that there were thou- 
 sands, unseen by us now. who were, like ourselves, waiting for the signal to 
 rush forward in a vigorous and hearty effort to put an end forever to the 
 threat of military autocracy. 
 
 As we neared Fleville the infantry from other divisions were encountered 
 on the road, and notable among these were the marines of the 2nd Division. 
 Chehery was lull of troops and lights were being carelessly Hashed about here 
 and there. Fleville was the scene of like activity. The country seemed to be 
 swarming with troops. 
 
 At Fleville we turned oil' the main road, through a ravine to the East, 
 where were concentrated a continuous succession of heavy batteries, French 
 and American, ranging from six-inch rifles to 9.2-inch howitzers. Our position 
 was about two kilometres beyond. Foxholes had already been dug, and 
 though the infantry waiting to go into the lines occupied most of these, shelter 
 was finally provided for all of us. Our artillery became increasingly active, 
 and were it not for the fact that we knew that the barrage was to slarl at a 
 later hour, the din might have led us to believe that it was already on. The 
 enemy, who had been up to now quiet, suddenly commenced to retaliate ami 
 his shells were dropping everywhere. Fortunately our position was well 
 dug in. 
 
 At 3:30 our machine-gun barrage opened up with a heavy and continuous 
 rattle. At 5:00 all the artillery joined in, and for hours thereafter there was a 
 terrific noise as thousands of shells followed each other through the air 
 towards the enemy. The restrained vim and enthusiasm of the men seemed 
 to be venting itself now in a wild uproar. Every "bang!" seemed to have 
 a sound of purpose and finality. The doughboys went over the top at .">::in 
 ami our tire increased. The artillery of our division tired on special targets 
 and because of the shortage of ammunition there was no rolling barrage. 
 
 It was a clear, crisp, cold day and the sunshine soon melted the frost 
 
 [71] 
 
which had covered the ground during the night. On the main road nearby 
 long lines of German prisoners were being brought in, and we then saw that 
 our efforts had resulted in success. German carts and horses, captured during 
 the night, were already being used for carrying supplies. At noon the order 
 to move forward arrived and before evening we were in position on the slope 
 of a hill behind St. Juvin. 
 
 Early next morning we again started forward. Encouraging news of our 
 success was arriving and our spirits were high. We passed through St. Juvin 
 and Chainpigneulle and all along the route the corpses of comrade and enemy 
 alike were stretched out. After ascending a very steep hill, with much diffi- 
 culty, a messenger arrived with the news that our infantry had already ad- 
 vanced through Yerpel, several kilometres ahead, and that the enemy was still 
 retreating. The battery halted at Yerpel to await further orders. The recon- 
 naisance part)' was ahead selecting a position. 
 
 In the meantime a heavy rain had started falling and the men and horses 
 were thickly bespattered with mud. The sky, leaden and overcast, was filled 
 occasionally with crows flying in flocks through tlie air and preying on the 
 many dead horses lying along the route, which added to the cheerlessness of 
 the scene. Anticipating a stop near Yerpel, Sergeant French established the 
 echelon there and the cooks started preparing mess. "Jerry" sent over a 
 few shells into the town, and harassed the roads, so that the prospects for a 
 quiet night did not seem very promising. At last the major and battery com- 
 manders returned from their recounaisance and we immediately moved for- 
 ward. It was now dark and the only lights we were guided by were the fre- 
 quent bursts of shells on the road ahead of us. The road towards Thenorgues 
 on which we were travelling had already been heavily shelled and it took our 
 last ounce of patience and energy to get the horses and carriages over the 
 shell-holes. 
 
 At last we went into position off the road near an old mill, midway 
 between Yerpel and Thenorgues. As it was a black night each gun had to 
 be guided in turn with the aid of a flashlight over the shell-torn field. The 
 American heavy batteries had pounded this vicinity in the preliminary bom- 
 bardment of November 1st, opening up regular craters in the earth. When 
 Private Keller was taking his team back to the road from the gun position 
 one of his big blacks decided to seek cover from the shelling and dropped into 
 a gaping shell-hole. Sergeant Von Pless came to the rescue with a picket rope 
 and a squad of cannoneers in order to fish him out. But the horse was per- 
 fectly satisfied with his secure P. C. and refused to move. It was impossible 
 to budge his great weight so the attempt was given up, and the animal spent 
 a rather cramped but safe night where he was. In the morning he was finally 
 dislodged with the aid of ropes and threats of being charged with cowardice 
 in the face of the enemy. 
 
 The men did not "dig in" that night as the ground was so wet and muddy 
 that every spadeful of dirt would be replaced by an equal quantity of water. 
 So we pitched our pup tents near the guns, using half of our blankets to soak 
 up the water and keeping the remainder for cover. The shelling continued 
 for some time and finally Battery F on our right was routed out of its position 
 with a loss of eight horses. In the darkness the telephone men laid a long 
 
 [72] 
 
line and, as usual, Thompson, II. A., was doing his share. He advanced very 
 cautiously, picking each step as he carried the wire forward. Suddenly there 
 was a strong tug on the wire ahead of him which pulled "H. A." forward and, 
 despite his caution, landed him at the bottom of an icy stream. Recovering 
 himself and emitting a few choice Blaisdeli expressions, which were entirely 
 pardonable under the circumstances, lie withdrew with wet clothes and 
 dampened ardor to the privacy of his pup tent where he spent the night in 
 nudity, again donning his wet garments in the morning. 
 
 Starting forward again early the next day we passed through Thenorgues 
 and when we reached Buzancy it was still in names from the tires caused by 
 hostile shelling the previous night. There were many shops in the town, and 
 the signs and inscriptions, all in German, showed that the Boche hail been 
 settled here in comfort for some time. As we passed through the narrow 
 streets the heat from the still smouldering walls on both sides of us could be 
 felt. Bar and Haricourt were the next villages we passed, and as we drew 
 out lo the hills beyond we could see circling around on the serpentine roads 
 ahead of us long caravans in khaki : infantry, artillery, supply wagons — 
 a vast army, all pressing forward victoriously, swarming over the country 
 which had been abandoned a few hours before. Large squadrons of bombing- 
 planes were sailing through the sky in varied formations ami were dropping 
 tons of their deadly missiles on the retreating enemy. Xo less than two 
 hundred American planes were swarming overhead as the battery approached 
 Autruche. When a few lone German planes attempted to sail over our newly 
 won terrain they received so warm a reception from our machine and anti- 
 aircraft guns that they were forced to make an immediate about-face. Leaving 
 with us one of their number. There was victorious activity both in the air 
 and on land, and we were more than ever convinced that this time the enemy 
 was beaten for good and all. 
 
 At this time we were joined by Lieutenant Yarbrough, with a section 
 from A Battery, to replace the "pirate piece" which had gone forward from 
 St. Juvin with Lieutenant Richard and the second section gun-crew. 
 
 The number of horses throughout the brigade had dwindled to such low 
 proportions due to shell tire and overexertion that each regiment of artillery 
 was ordered to consolidate its transport facilities and send only one battalion 
 of guns forward. The remainder of the horses were to be used to rush ammu- 
 nition and supplies over the much extended line of communication. The 2nd 
 Battalion, Batteries I>, E and F, was selected to go forward in pursuit of 
 the Boche. 
 
 In the early evening, after a full day of hiking, we pulled into position 
 again on the muddy slope of a hill between Autruche and Fontenoy. Though 
 the day had started clear and sunshiny it was now again raining, and the 
 same hardships as on the previous night were encountered. No mess had 
 been provided since early morning, and then we had only eaten the usual 
 bacon sandwich, made up now of hardtack and bacon. This was not the fault 
 of the mess sergeant or the cooks, however, for they had prepared a mess for 
 us; but Lieutenant Lunny and Corporal Barger were wandering about some 
 where in the enemy lines with the ration cart. This situation was somewhat 
 relieved by the fact that during the march we had passed by fields of cabbage, 
 
beets and turnips, which the enemy had cultivated, and to our famished 
 palates these raw vegetables afforded a tasty meal. 
 
 The truth of the adage "necessity is the mother of invention" had more 
 than once been exemplified by the men in providing themselves with food and 
 shelter. Whether it was by "salvaging" or otherwise the tools and material 
 necessary for any work were always found, and it needed but the emergency 
 to stir up their resourcefulness. The result was that the attitude that "nothing 
 is impossible" was developed, and it was this more than anything else which 
 had made the American successful where others had failed. One of the finest 
 instances of this fertilitj' of resource was given us on one occasion by Galiano 
 Anselmi, who was Lieutenant Richard's orderly. Galiano had long possessed 
 a healthy appetite, which frequently enabled him to devour the "seconds" 
 which he had taken "for the officers" without disturbing his digestion or his 
 conscience. One of the lieutenant's cigars had just sharpened his appetite, 
 and Galiano was carefully considering ways and means of providing himself 
 with food. At this juncture Lieutenant Richard sent for him and told him 
 to open up a can of jam. Galiano knew that but two cans remained — one of 
 a flavor disliked by the lieutenant and the other, one of his favorites. He 
 immediately opened up the distasteful can and hurried to bring it to the 
 lieutenant, who after one look at it said, "Anselmi, you can have this can, 
 bring me the other one." Having already gained half of his prize, Galiano 
 cast about for a means of securing the remainder. As he opened the second 
 can, he espied a large bug of the centipede variety wandering over the ground 
 nearby. He seized this unsuspecting victim and after having imbedded him in 
 the luscious jam in such a manner that he could still attract attention by 
 wiggling his numerous legs, he turned the cover down again, and with a very 
 faithful and zealous air delivered the can. He hastened away, but, as he 
 expected, was soon recalled by the lieutenant, who said, "Here, Anselmi, take 
 this can, too, I don't care for any jam this evening." Galiano now removed 
 the bug, and he and his fellow "dogrobbers" enjoyed the two cans, while the 
 lieutenant was forced to resort to a portion of "Corned Willy." 
 
 The next day, November 4th, we were on foot again early in the morning, 
 and slowly pushed our way forward, following the long caravan which already 
 preceded us on the march. As we pulled into St. Pierremont, the. front line 
 infantry was on the slope of a large hill to our right. The enemy was heavily 
 shelling the road ahead of us, so we halted while a reeonnaisance party 
 went ahead to see the lay of the land. A few minutes later Lieutenant Mac- 
 Dougall, of E Battery, came galloping down the road with some E Battery 
 men following. He had taken his Pirate Piece into position in open view of the 
 enemy over the hill ahead of us in order to attack a machine-gun nest. They 
 soon received a terrific shelling and were forced to abandon the piece, after 
 suffering three casualties. As the advance for that day had been halted we 
 went into position behind a convenient slope nearby. "Jerry's" shells landed 
 dangerously close for several hours, but before morning our "doughboys" had 
 chased them far enough ahead to assure us of another good day's hiking. 
 
 We spent the following morning taking up our telephone lines and prepar- 
 ing to advance again. In the afternoon we moved forward. As we reached 
 an old prison-camp in the Bois de Yonc, a power-house, recently abandoned 
 
 [71] 
 
by the enemy, was si ill in flames. A hollow nearby seemed to have some advan- 
 tages as a position for the night, so we were halted on the road, while Major 
 Devereux and the battery commanders rode over to investigate. A battery 
 of the 306th F. A. was already in position on the other side of the road. While 
 we were awaiting the decision of the major and captain the enemy suddenly 
 started shelling the road several hundred metres ahead of lis, and in a few 
 moments there was a scene of the wildest confusion. Machine-gun carts 
 came rattling down towards us with the drivers standing up in them, excitedly 
 whipping their horses and urging them on. The shells, both high explosive 
 and gas. soon .started coining much closer to us and we placed ourselves in 
 positions calculated to give us the best shelter, while we adjusted the gas-masks 
 on the horses ami ourselves. Terrific explosions were now throwing up dirt 
 and rocks on all sides, while we impatiently stood .mv ground. Then, with a 
 tremendous crash, a shell burst through the roof of a shack, occupied by the 
 battery from the 306th. Several other crashes followed, and smoke and 
 flame burst through the roof. In a few seconds the men inside wildly rushed 
 out, adjusting their gas-masks as they ran. .Many were covered with blood 
 anil dirt. One, already dead, was carried out by his comrades on a stretcher. 
 Two others, severely wounded and covered with blood, were helped out also. 
 The excitement was intense as the enemy tire swept back and forth. At last 
 it died down and we drew our pieces info the wooded hollow, and. in the 
 heavy rain which was now falling, established ourselves tor the night. From 
 time to time during the night the enemy renewed his shelling, but the morning 
 found us all safe and sound, though tired, hungry and wet. 
 
 In the afternoon we again advanced. As we reached the town of La 
 Besace we were greeted very gladly by the civilian inhabitants who had been 
 liberated by our advance. As we marched through the nimbly and flooded 
 streets we saw smiling and happy laces everywhere. White flags were floating 
 from the tops of many of the houses, as an indication that they were inhabited 
 by civilians. The men. women and children lined up on the sides of the 
 street had nothing but cheers and praise for the Americans, who had freed 
 them after fifty months of I'.oche slavery. We \\^n> really moved by the smiling 
 faces everywhere, and the consciousness that we were the cause of this happi- 
 ness had an excellent effect upon our morale. We felt more than ever the 
 righteousness of the cause we were fighting for, and when we left the town 
 and went into position for the nighl on the slope of a steep hill, we felt that, 
 though we were suffering from hunger and hardship, it was not being done in 
 vain. Though some we had left behind in America were suffering because of our 
 absence from them, we now saw that others were made happy because of our 
 presence here. 
 
 The food situation had. meanwhile, become increasingly worse as the 
 bringing up of supplies became more difficult, and we were all in an underfed 
 and famished condition. Haw vegetables, picked from the fields as we marched 
 along, had been our main article of food for the past few days, and had been 
 entirely insufficient to meet the large drain which the hardships and exertions 
 we were daily going through were making on our physical system. Neverthe- 
 less, the following morning, November 7th. we were up at 5:30, and, without 
 any breakfast, were soon on the road again, continuing our advance. At about 
 
noon we went into position in a strip of woods northeast of Raucourt, where, 
 in the rain, which was, as usual, falling, we pitched our tents and dug in. 
 Nearby was a cemetery, originally dedicated by the French to their dead 
 heroes, and subsequently similarly used by the Germans. There were several 
 Boehe graves recently filled and several others dug but unfilled, and in one 
 of these Mechanic Price and Corporal Stuart established themselves for the 
 night, thereby saving themselves much digging. 
 
 The Boche having been driven across the Meuse River were now intrenched 
 on the high hills beyond that stream, while on our left the outskirts of Sedan 
 had been penetrated by American troops. Our own divisional objectives hav- 
 ing been reached we were informed that the lines would be stabilized for a few 
 days in order to repair lines of communication and bring up supplies 
 for a further advance. 
 
 The rain and cold continued and when we awoke in the mornings our 
 tents were covered with frost. The "canned heat" which some of us had 
 salvaged helped a bit to heat the tents at night, and enabled us to crudely 
 toast our bread. During the day, in the cover of the woods, we built wood 
 fires and dried up some of our clothes. We continued to harass the enemy, 
 and to be fired at by them, but we suffered no further casualties. 
 
 In the meantime Lieutenant Richard with his Pirate Piece and a crew of 
 pirates, consisting this time of Sergeant Darling, Gleason, Van Buren, Bur- 
 dick, Roth, Yineer, Graves and Panfil, had been doing very effective work in 
 accelerating the enemy's retreat. They were in position now near the 
 Meuse at Autrecourt. Lieutenant Lunny, with Sergeant Ruggiero's gun-crew, 
 went down to relieve them. On Sunday, November 10th, the spell of bad 
 weather was broken by a beautiful, clear day. The warm sunshine which 
 poured down on us now, instead of the cold rain, filled us with a feeling of joy 
 and cheerfulness. About half past five that afternoon the battery was called 
 upon to fire on a German dug-out that had been spotted by an infantry ob- 
 server. After the first salvo had gone over, the infantry reported a direct hit 
 on the target and we proceeded to let them have a few more rounds. From the 
 official report this firing was the parting shot of the 152nd F. A. Brigade in 
 the Great War. Thus we finished our part in the war with a "bullVeye." 
 
 The enemy seemed to have ceased firing, and everything became quiet as 
 we lolled about on the grass. Rumors reached us from a French anti-aircraft 
 battery nearby that "La guerre eta it finis" and it seemed to us that it would 
 be fitting that peace should come on a day such as this. Of course, we were 
 incredulous, yet we fostered the fond hope, and were disappointed when we 
 turned in that night to hear the enemy's "coal barges" again sailing through 
 the air. 
 
 The next day, Monday, November 11th, was a cloudy, wintry day, dis- 
 agreeably different from yesterday, and wheu at breakfast the news was spread 
 that an armistice would go into effect on the entire front at 11 o'clock we 
 could not believe it possible. This news, however, was soon confirmed by 
 Captain Mahon, and our joy knew no bounds. We built large bonfires and 
 grouping around them, sang songs, and genuine happiness was written on 
 every face. We had survived the worst, and felt that the hardships which 
 Life could now offer us would be picayune in comparison. When the question 
 
 [76] 
 
Tom Price's bench — s/mt nt which the firing battery celebrated Ai 
 
 "Is everybody happy?" was yelled <m t by one group, "Yea bo!" was the full- 
 hearted response. That afternoon some of us went to Raucourt to take a 
 much needed bath, and there, among the civilian population were scenes of 
 the wildest rejoicing. French and American flags were floating from the houses 
 and joy was on every face. The sun was now shining, and this earth certainly 
 seemed a happy and beautiful place to live in. The philosopher who urged 
 that this world was the best of all possible places would have found a mob of 
 adherents, and poor Schopenhauer would have been shot at sunrise for his 
 gloomy views. At night, some of us built large bonfires and gathered around 
 and shouted and sang, while others stuck up candles on our helmets and by 
 the light of these sat in our "pup" tents happily chatting or writing a few 
 words to those at home. When we turned in that night it was with a seuse 
 of relaxation and freedom from burden such as we had not for a long time 
 experienced. There were none of the usual terrifying and horrible noises; 
 these were now but memories of the nightmare we had just lived through, 
 while the future faced us bright and cheerful in outlook. 
 
Chapter XII. 
 
 OUR LAST FRONT. 
 
 November 12th to December 2nd. 
 
 j|T has recently been reported by a prominent newspaper that a sol- 
 dier had been found who stated that he enjoyed being under shell 
 fire. Strange as this may sound, it is easily explainable, and is 
 but an exaggeration of a very common reaction to the strain of the 
 battlefrout. When a man is under extreme clanger his every sense and feeling 
 is alert and super-sensitive. Every faculty he possesses is active and in full 
 operation. He experiences for the time, a heightened intensity of feeling, 
 and this, perhaps, explains why he is coolest and at his best at the moment 
 of most critical clanger. His attention is diverted away from his physical self 
 and concentrated on the threatening clanger and the means of averting it. 
 The effect is very similar to that of a stimulant, and the reaction is also 
 similar. When the moment of great danger has passed, the stimulus is re- 
 moved and the high tension of feeling is slackened. His attention is again 
 directed to himself and he again becomes actively conscious of his physical 
 condition. Very often, when one of our men had been sent to the echelon for 
 a few days' rest, after an extended stay at the front, the leisure, instead of 
 benefiting him, usually resulted in his "going to pieces" there, and he only felt 
 well again when he returned to the conditions of constant danger, activity 
 and self-forgetfulness at the front. 
 
 Now, after the armistice was signed a similar reaction was noticeable on 
 many. True, we enjoyed to the utmost the feeling that the hardships and 
 horrors were ended, but physically we did not feel at our best. Though we 
 enjoyed the relief from the big strain of our recent experiences still the stim- 
 ulus which they offered was also gone and the effects of a lessened intensity of 
 feeling were noticeable. 
 
 On the morning of November 12th, after a night which for many had 
 been disturbed and sleepless because of the considerations just mentioned, 
 we arose to another day of jubilation. As we washed and shaved, there 
 was no longer the need of keeping our white towels under cover for fear 
 that the enemy planes would see them. Camouflage was a tiling of the 
 past now for us, and to be able to move around and act without the usual 
 precautionary measures was indeed a relief. Bonfires were again started and 
 songs and shouts, as yesterday, filled the air. Word arrived at eleven o'clock 
 that we would be relieved from the front that afternoon, and this added to our 
 rejoicing. As usual, "Mike'' Dichich and his staff of chefs were on the job for 
 the occasion and had an excellent mess ready to add to the holiday feeling. 
 
 [78] 
 
Iii the early afternoon, with the sun ;it its full strength, we pulled out 
 through the town of Raucourt, still smiling over its restoration to freedom. 
 We passed through the flooded streets of La Besace again and arrived at 
 Sommauthe in the evening. The march was long and tiresome but our spirits 
 were high, and we did not mind it. <>n the hike "Al" Murphy introduced the 
 song thai made him famous: "Those Little Red Drawers That My Hear Maggie 
 Wore"; Bennie Freeman sang some of his favorite sentimental tunes and we all 
 joined in on "The Old Cray .Mare, She A i n't What She I'sed to Be." 
 
 We pitched ramp on a cold and muddy strip of ground outside of Som- 
 mauthe and after thawing ourselves out at big bonfires mined in for the night. 
 The next morning the real effects of the reaction mentioned in the opening 
 paragraphs of this chapter became apparent. Most of the men were sick and 
 in poor physical condition. The two days we spent here were far from enjoy- 
 able, especially for the cannoneers, for we were all back with the "dogs" now 
 and they needed more grooming and attention than we ourselves got. In 
 the evening of November 14th, after many conflicting rumors as to our joining 
 the Army id' Occupation or entraining for the coast had gone the rounds, orders 
 arrived to leave our guns in their present position and move out with our 
 horses. After a long hike we camped several kilometres beyond Beaumont, on 
 the slope of a hill. It was past midnight and a cold wind was blowing. We 
 pitched our tents and after piling everything we owned on top of us for 
 warmth dropped off to sleep. 
 
 At 5 o'clock we were up again, ready to go forward to take over the guns 
 of the 124th F. A. Our packs were loaded on a rickety salvaged German cart, 
 and. with Walter F. Bang, from Iowa, driving, we started out toward "the 
 front."' In spite of our lack of sleep we were in excellent spirits, and, as we 
 started out. were singing and cheering. Bang, with his usual pipe in the 
 corner of his mouth, was ably mami'iivering the horse and cart, modestly 
 acknowledging the "Three cheers for Bang:'' which were being shouted out 
 from time to time. Just then a heavy truck came along and striking the wheel 
 in passing, brought horse, cart. Bang and pipe to the ground. None of these 
 were injured, however, and after "Dan" Philpot had straightened out the 
 axle, explaining to us that "this is the way yuh does it, min," we started 
 forward again amid songs and cheers. 
 
 When we arrived at the position we found that it would be necessary to 
 leave only a guard on the pieces. This was done and the rest of us returned 
 in time to witness the event which, next to the cessation of hostilities, we had 
 most earnestly prayed for. The "dogs" were being turned in, and we needed 
 no better proof that the war was over. As McBride had often insisted, the 
 war would never be over for us until we got rid of the "dogs," and when we 
 saw all but twelve being turned over to the loth F. A., who were going into 
 Germany as part of the Army of Occupation, we shed no tears over their 
 departure. Possibly Brozowski was an exception, for his pair of grays and 
 he had become inseparable friends. He could not bear to think that they 
 were once more going to be reduced to the regulation government ration, in- 
 stead of the regular allowance plus all that Brozowski could "salvage" for 
 them, which invariably doubled the quantity of their diet. Another war was 
 thus also ended, that between the drivers and the cannoneers, and a second 
 
Battery D billet* in Briquenay showing the 
 former town hull in the centre. 
 
 armistice was that day declared. Klesmer, McOahill and Buckmiller were at 
 this time also transferred to the loth F. A. 
 
 The next lew days were bitterly cold and snow flurries fell. The "pup" 
 tents were very uncomfortable, and we were glad to move into a German prison- 
 camp nearby where Ave could sleep under cover, with stoves ablaze. We re- 
 mained here until November 19th, when we moved out, returning to Som- 
 mauthe. After two days there, this time in billets instead of "pup" teuts, 
 with fireplaces instead of bonfires, we hiked to the village of Briquenay, about 
 seven kilometres distant. 
 
 Briquenay was a small village, long inhabited by the Germans, but now 
 entirely deserted. The houses were almost all intact, and the furniture in 
 them indicated that the Germans had been leading a comfortable life here. 
 Electric lines were strung through the town, but were not now in operation. 
 We were billeted in the town hall and in several adjoining houses. A few 
 minutes after our arrival the men were seeu scurrying in all directions col- 
 lecting chairs and other articles of furniture, preparing to make their stay 
 comfortable. A barrel of dill pickles, left behind by some other organization 
 which had been billeted here, was "salvaged" and soon we were all walking 
 around with pickles in our mouths. Several axes were found and some of 
 us were soon chopping up logs for the large fireplaces which were in all of 
 the billets. A short time after our arrival we were very comfortably installed 
 in our new quarters, and sat in groups around the blazing fireplaces, enjoying 
 what constituted luxurious living to us now. 
 
 The next few days we were engaged in salvage work, collecting the vari- 
 ous articles scattered throughout the town belonging to the American Army, 
 and sorting these out and placing them in separate piles. The towu clerk, 
 with several female civilians, arrived after an absence of four years and 
 started to set what had been theirjioiues in order. They drew supplies from 
 our kitchen and were in other ways helped by our men. During our stay 
 here we received another "delousing." The Germans had left an "Entlausing 
 Station" nearby, and here we got a hot bath and a change of underwear, 
 again ridding us of the "cootie," who had come back in large numbers since the 
 last ablutions. 
 
 Another feature of our life in Briquenay was the non-commissioned 
 officers' room. All of the non-commissioned officers gathered in one of the 
 
 [SO] 
 
Guardhouse ni Briquenay. 
 
 rooms in the town hall, ami here, of an evening, with the fireplace ablaze with 
 large logs, many a spirited discussion took place. "Hank" Miller, who was 
 recovering from his diarrhoea, became more argumentative than ever. He 
 argued on every subject, from Birth Control to Booze, and claimed to be an 
 expert on all. One night, when "Bob" Freedman had smuggled some cognac 
 in, and "Hank" had smuggled some into his own system, he argued with more 
 spirit than ever on the subject of Wilson and the League of Nations. Many 
 a book and magazine flew through the air towards Class, his implacable wordy 
 enemy. "Hank" finally had to be put to bed, worsted in the argument, though, 
 as usual, he did not admit it. 
 
 Some of the same cognac, together with a dozen bottles of Pomery, were 
 smuggled up to the billets inhabited by Sergeants Aigeltinger, Pons and 
 Ronayne, Corporals SSchapiro and McDonough and Chief Mechanic Philpot. 
 "Dearie" Ronayne charged "Mac" with being a slacker. "Mac" retained 
 "Sheppy" as his counsellor and "Shep" with his hair and moustache bristling 
 straight up, and with much display of eloquence, argued the case for him. 
 Philpot was appointed "jedge," because of his versatility and knowledge of 
 all subjects, and after much eloquence and liquor had flowed forth, with much 
 display of homely and practical wisdom, ".ledge" Philpot acquitted "Mac" of 
 the charge. 
 
 On Thanksgiving Day, November 28th, Chaplain Howard delivered an 
 excellent sermon in the village church. The band was on hand to liven up 
 the occasion. The true spirit of Thanksgiving was everywhere present as we 
 reviewed the events of the past several months and their fortunate outcome. 
 Sergeant Dichich and Corporal Freedman had gone to Chalons by motor truck 
 to make purchases for a Thanksgiving Dinner and they returned with a load 
 of good things. The mess-hall, formerly the town hall, was decorated with 
 ferns, holly and shrubbery, and then an excellent meal was served, consisting 
 of roast lamb, mashed potatoes, salad, cocoa, nuts and red wine. Sergeant 
 French made a gift of a large bar of chocolate to every man in the battery, 
 thus adding to the holiday feeling. The occasion was felt by all to be one 
 of deeper significance for us than any previous Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 On the morning of December 2nd we left Briquenay and hiked to Grand 
 pre, seven kilometres away. Grandpre was in total ruins, hardly a building 
 standing intact. The destructiveness of shell tire was more apparent here 
 than in any of the many shelled towns we had passed through. Debris, dust 
 
 [81] 
 
American "side door" Pullman train. 
 
 and dirt were piled up and scattered all around, and the town was the picture 
 of desolation and ruin. There were very few civilians present, but the town 
 was alive with American troops, who were busily engaged in salvage work. 
 We had a hurried mess and then were loaded on to motor trucks and driven 
 to Autrie, the railhead from which we were to entrain. Transportation not 
 having yet appeared, we lodged ourselves in a German camp nearby and awaited 
 its arrival. About o'clock the train steamed in and by 10 o'clock we were 
 loaded on American box cars, seventy to a car, ready to pull out. Where we 
 were going we did not know, but we hoped that it was to the coast, from which 
 we could sail for home. 
 
 Battery Basket-Ball Team. 
 
 [82] 
 
Group on trip to Brest. 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 
 LIGNEROLLES. 
 
 December 3rd, 1918, to February 8th, 1919. 
 
 JBOUT 4 o'clock in the morning of December 3rd we left the station 
 at Autrie. The conditions on the box cars were as usual— a jumble 
 of 71) bodies and 7<l packs in a space which could comfortably hold 
 only one quarter of that number. We were bunched together on 
 the straw spread out in the cars and when a station was reached and we 
 jumped off to stretch our legs we looked like real "Weary Willies," with our 
 hair dishevelled, our caps setting on our heads at unusual angles ami our 
 clothes covered with wisps of straw. However, we were by this time accus- 
 tomed to hardships and we considered this comfortable travelling. As we sat 
 grouped around the doorways, or stood up looking through the slits on the 
 side, it was pleasant to notice a slow but gradual return to the scenes and 
 signs of civilization. The sight of even a civilian had become a rarity to us 
 in our long stay in the devastated regions, and now, as the train passed 
 through villages, towns and cities we saw women and children, open shops, 
 busy streets and a variety of other commonplaces, which struck us with as 
 much novelty as though we had never seen them before in our lives. What was 
 customary in the life of a civilian had become out of the ordinary in our 
 unusual method of life, and it was now a pleasing sensation to feel that we 
 were returning to a more normal existence again. 
 
 At 4:30 I'. M., we arrived at the station of Latrecey. It was raining, and 
 as we detrained and unloaded our carriages and equipment by the light of a 
 bonfire, the surrounding country had a desolate and dreary appearance, which 
 was far from reassuring. We pulled the guns, caissons. (1. S. carts, Fourgon 
 wagons and water-wagon to a field nearby, placed them in some kind of order 
 and then, shouldering our packs, hiked for some distance over railroad tracks 
 to a large tin covered shed used as an aeroplane hangar, where we spread out 
 our shelter halves ami blankets and turned in for the night. 
 
 The following morning we hiked back over the railroad tracks again and 
 
 [S3] 
 
had an unsatisfactory "Canned Willie" breakfast. We then started on a long 
 hike, in a drizzling rain, over muddy roads and arrived at last in the after- 
 noon at the village of Lignerolles. Part of the batten' was housed in a bar- 
 rack while the rest occupied the available lofts and cowsheds which were usu- 
 ally assigned to the "Aniericain soldat" as billets. 
 
 Lignerolles was our home for the next ten weeks. It was a small village 
 with a population of 144. The houses were grouped around the village church 
 which stood facing the Aubette River. The town was neatly laid out and 
 was much cleaner than the average French village we had seen. Another im- 
 portant feature was the presence of two "gin-mills" where the "necessities" 
 of a soldier's life were dispensed. The village also boasted a schoolhouse, 
 where two demure and pretty schoolmistresses resided, a travelling pastor, 
 who visited the church and helped the boys smoke their cigarettes, and a 
 graveyard containing the sacred remnants of the inhabitants of Lignerolles 
 for several generations past. There was, in addition to this, in the village, 
 one cow, a few chickens, a few more rabbits and a large reserve of "pommes 
 de terres," which lasted throughout the next ten weeks and afforded the 
 basis of many a "potato party." 
 
 A "potato party" is a form of entertainment and nourishment peculiar 
 to France and the A. E. F. In every village where troops are billeted there 
 are many French families who own a stove, a frying-pan and a supply of 
 potatoes, and are kindly disposed towards the American soldier and his francs. 
 In the evening, after the soldier has finished his day's work, and his three 
 "squares" he usually gathers in these houses, sits at the table under candle 
 light, with his mess-kit in front of him, feeds the old man with Bull Durham 
 and "ready-mades," and partakes of dish after dish of delicately greased 
 "pommes de terres frites" at one franc, or thereabouts, a throw, as a light dish 
 before retiring. 
 
 This was the way that many of the men spent their evenings at Ligne 
 rolles. "Greaseball" Kory, "Micky" Mara, Rocco Manzo, Phil Foster, McBride, 
 "Barney" Gilmour and most of the other privates, as well as the more elite 
 sergeants and corporals, spent evening after evening in the different houses of 
 the town, eating potatoes and discussing the possibility of getting home "Toot 
 Sweet." Bugler Wagner was a steady caller at one of these houses, and it 
 was rumored that it was not only the potatoes that drew him there, but also 
 the winning charms of Mademoiselle Ninny, called, for short, "Skull and 
 Crossbones." 
 
 In addition to "potato parties" there were also "booze parties*' nightly. 
 These took place at the two gin-mills, one of which was presided over by the 
 feminine charms of Mademoiselle Madeleine, while the other by the rival charms 
 of Yvenette. Madeleine was of the long, thin variety of female, and wore 
 fashionable clothes — even silk hose. Van Auken became enamoured of the 
 young lady and thus became one of the best customers and consumers at that 
 "gin-mill." Yvenette, the presiding goddess at the other, was of the short, 
 chubby variety and was admitted by everyone to be "pleasingly plump." Good- 
 man developed a soft spot in his heart for her, and was a regular visitor there 
 until Sergeant Mayer arrived from the Officers' Training Camp and captured 
 the young lady with his polished manners and finger-nails and his excellent 
 
 [S4] 
 
French. It can readily be seen that with two such charming young ladies in 
 charge of the two rival "gin-mills" many a discussion would arise as to their 
 comparative beauty and virtues. Many a spirited argument took place on the 
 subject. Meanwhile Madeleine and Yvenette continued to dispense pleasing 
 beverages, not realizing thai they were the subject of so much of the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 This was not the only form of discussion that took place, however. A 
 debate was arranged on the subject, "Are you in favor of a League of Nations?" 
 and it took place one Saturday afternoon in the barracks. "Hank" Miller, 
 "Cognac" Lowell, Joachim Simas and Noxon supported the affirmative, while 
 Sehapiro, Petchtle, Lambe and (Jlass represented the negative. "Hank," with 
 an expression of suspense and pain which outrivalled even his facial contor- 
 tions when his usual malady held him in its fatal grip, delivered a carefully 
 prepared address on the virtues of permanent peace and then sat down with a 
 sigh of relief, such as Atlas would utter were the weight of the earth to be 
 removed from his shoulders. Joachim supported him with a learned dis- 
 course, during which he quoted every Portuguese philosopher from the days 
 of antiquity down to and including himself. Noxon, with his usual emphatic 
 and "take-it-from-me" manner lent his support, as did also Lowell, and it 
 looked dark for the negative after these speakers had finished. (>n the nega- 
 tive, "Peck" delivered a masterly oration, followed by Lambe, who expressed 
 his forceful opinions on the question of allowing Chinamen to have a say in 
 the ruling of Ireland. Then "Sheppy" took the floor, and he took the audi- 
 ence too. With hair dishevelled and standing on end, with his little moustache 
 bristling at an atgie of 90 degrees from his lip. he delivered a scathing address 
 in which he flayed unmercifully "Hank" and the other "academic gentlemen" 
 who had supported him. When he had finished he was loudly applauded 
 and the verdict was given to the negative. 
 
 In the early part of December the first furloughs were issued to the men. 
 Chief Mechanic Philpot, Sergeants Osterman, Lowell, Darling and Aigeltinger, 
 Corporals Class and McDonough anil Private Petchtle left for Aix-les-Bains. 
 where they lived in high style at a modern hotel, forgetting for the time every 
 thing military. The rest of the battery were not so fortunate, however, for 
 day after day they had to go through the monotonous close order drill, gun 
 drill, wig-wag and semaphone practice and a variety of other exercises, most 
 of which had proved to lie useless at the front, but were, however, a good 
 means of "killing" time and making the Army distasteful now. Our after 
 noons were usually spent in some field problem or manceuver which was as 
 dull and uninteresting as everything else military had now become. The break 
 in the monotony came on Sunday, when we started the day by going to 
 church and ended it up by visiting one of the local "gin-mills" and beating 11(1 
 or being beaten up by one of our good comrades. "Micky" Mara and "Paddy" 
 Curium were two such pals and. one Sunday eve, in true Irish and Christian 
 style pummelled each other, with the result that "Paddy" sported a pair of 
 eyes which, for variety of coloring, had the rainbow beaten all hollow. 
 
 On Saturdays we usually hiked to the neighboring town of Aubepierre 
 where the 1st Battalion was stationed and there marched in review before 
 Colonel Enos. The hike to Aubepierre was a long and hard one. over many 
 
 [86 
 
a steep hill, and it was considered a stroke of good fortune to be able to 
 escape taking it. "Bennie" Freeman, who for some time past had been fat- 
 tening himself on rabbits, chickens and the usual onions, was not in condition 
 to do any vigorous hiking, so, one Saturday morning, he decided that instead 
 of hiking to Aubepierre he would betake himself to the infirmary nearby under 
 the pretext that he was sick. He communicated this plan to "Teddy" Hecht, 
 "Froggie" Courchene, "Blondie" Aske and others of his friends who were 
 also experts at 'Mucking" formations, at the same time expressing the hope 
 that he would not be given any salts at the infirmary, the taste and effects 
 of which were not the most pleasant. Sergeant Lowell overheard this con- 
 versation and slipping out of the door, hurried to the infirmary. He apprised 
 Robinson, who was on duty there, of the scheme which was on foot, and then 
 hurried back in time to turn "Beunie's" name in on sick-call. When the bugle 
 blew, "Bennie" turned out and went up to the infirmary. With a very pained 
 expression he told Lieutenant McCaleb of his sufferings, and the Lieutenant 
 gave him a very careful examination. After feeling his pulse and taking his 
 temperature, he advised "Bennie" that he was in a very serious condition, 
 and that the best medicine for him was a double dose of salts. This was pre- 
 pared, and with a very wry face, "Bennie" had to swallow it. He suffered 
 for the rest of the day and night, but the salts were found to be an effective 
 cure for his ailment, for the next Saturday he hiked to Aubepierre. 
 
 On Christmas Day a large consignment of turkeys arrived, purchased 
 with funds sent over by the 304th F. A. Association. The turkeys were, 
 however, fouler than eatable fowls should be, with the result that they had to 
 be consigned to the refuse can. The day lacked the usual good cheer of 
 Christmas, as did also New Year's Day. The only place the men could stay 
 with any degree of comfort was in the "gin-mills" and these had none of the 
 home-like holiday amusements. 
 
 On New Year's Eve, after "Taps" had blown, a long procession, headed 
 by "Pop" Munday, who, as Van Buren expressed it, was rather "pifflieated," 
 filed out of the "gin-mills" and marched to the officers' quarters, where they 
 raised a tremendous din by beating their mess-kits together. They continued 
 this noise for some time, and, finally, after Major Devereux had opened his 
 window and wished them a "Happy New Year," dispersed and climbed up the 
 ladders to their billets. This was a difficult feat for some, but, with the aid 
 of their more sober comrades they, at last, all made it, without anyone landing 
 in the guardhouse for the night. 
 
 The guardhouse was a rather rickety building, with a stone floored room 
 containing a large fireplace downstairs, and two bare rooms with broken 
 windows and floors upstairs. The guard consisted of sixteen privates, three 
 corporals and two sergeants. In the smoky atmosphere of the room down- 
 stairs these men gathered, when off post, reading, writing letters, playing- 
 cards or preparing something tasty to eat, such as an onion sandwich, French 
 fried potatoes, or some "flapjacks." During the wee small hour of the night, 
 while the rest of the village was resting from its daily toils, the guardhouse was 
 usually full of activity, as the men engaged themselves in these various occu- 
 pations, to the tuneful accompaniment of the snoring of some of the men 
 who had dropped off for a short restful nap on the stone floor. During the day 
 
 [86] 
 

 
 »t 'vR' 
 
 ,•».. 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 
 Jggfc:-- 
 
 -fS>i 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 * • 
 
 
 l . j ' 
 
 
 ^, **s >*. m 
 
 * 
 
 !' 
 
 In 
 
 
 . . 
 
 .-~~ 
 
 the must desirable posts were Nos. - and 4, the two "gin-mills." The guard 
 there was a sort of official faster, called in from time to time to-sample every 
 newly opened bottle, and these posts usually fell to the lot of men who were 
 experienced and competent enough to pass judgment, such as Xihan, Gleason, 
 Brotz, Cullinane and Russell. At night the most desirable post was No. ■">. 
 the kitchen. Here, the guard picked for himself the most juicy steaks and 
 choice foods and spent his nightly vigil sampling the next day's rations. 
 
 In addition to their General Orders the guards also had several special 
 Orders prescribed by themselves. Special Order No. 1 provided that the 
 
 guard "salvage" enough wood fr the French woodpiles to keep the tire going 
 
 all night. Special Order No. - was for the kitchen guard only, and provided 
 that he bring hack enough steaks to feed the rest of the guard. It was diffi- 
 cult for some of the men to learn their general and special orders, as they 
 could not read English. Brozowski was one who had difficulty in this direc- 
 tion; but he demonstrated that he had a very practical understanding of his 
 duties. One night, while on guard at No. i "gin-mill," Lieutenant Lunny, who 
 was officer of the day, approached and walked by without being challenged. 
 He came back to Brozowski and asked him why he had not challenged him 
 when he saw him approaching. "For why should I ask the Lieutenant 'Who 
 goes there'.' - when I see who it is?" asked Brozowski. This logic was irre- 
 futable, so the Lieutenant passed on. 
 
 In the early part of January, a Y. M. <\ A. hut was established in the 
 basement of the schoolhouse and a female Y. M. O. A. worker arrived to sell 
 us biscuits, jam and other sweetmeats. The schoolhouse proper was also 
 opened up in the evenings and classes were conducted there. Corporal Schap- 
 iro conducted a class in Commercial Arithmetic. Sergeanl Kroeger of E Bat- 
 
 [87 
 
tery a class in Elementary English, Corporal Glass, one in Advanced English, 
 while Lieutenant Richard delivered two lectures each week on the World 
 War and its historical background, and Major Devereux lectured on our 
 campaigns. Shows were also staged several times a week, to which Batteries 
 D and E both contributed their local talent. A boxing-bout was arranged 
 between Gaylord P. Bailey, the "Iowa Cyclone," and Elmer J. Brotz, the 
 "Buffalo Whirlwind," but when the time arrived both of these pugilists, having 
 been patronizing Yvenette's bar for some time, were not in condition to fight. 
 
 In the meantime, our schedule had been changed providing for the use of 
 the afternoons in athletics. When the call for afternoon drill blew we lined up 
 and marched to the athletic field nearby, where we spent the afternoon playing 
 baseball, track games and soccer. Lambe had developed an excellent soccer 
 team, made up of such nimble athletes as Schapiro, Barrett, Bowler, Walsh, 
 Crean, Woods, Dyer, Hecht, Lambe, Foster, Sagman, Culliton, Croy, Philpot, 
 Roth and Van Buren, and the combinations were strong enough to beat every 
 team in the regiment. The betting on the games was heavy and as we lost 
 none of them, the francs of most of the men were being multiplied, as was 
 also, in consequence, the income of the gin-mills. 
 
 The second group of "permissionaires" left for Challes-les-Eaux, after 
 the first group returned. The fortunate ones this time were Sergeant French, 
 Corporals Miller, Schlosser, Schwab, Barger, Levins and Pvt. Gleason. Captain 
 Mahon and Lieutenant Daniels, who had also been away on furloughs, returned 
 and relieved Lieutenants Richard and Lunny, who paid a visit to the balmy 
 Riviera. 
 
 On Sunday, January 5th, we marched to Aubepierre, where the entire 
 regiment was assembled for a Memorial Service in memory of the men we 
 had lost in action. After a brief address by Colonel Enos, Chaplain Howard 
 delivered a splendid sermon in praise of these dead. The band played appro- 
 priate music and the entire regiment joined in prayer. 
 
 The following Sunday we again hiked to Aubepierre, but this time for a 
 different purpose. We were to be "deloused" again. We packed up all our 
 equipment, both issued and personal, in the bedsacks and loaded them on a 
 wagon to be carried to Aubepierre. On arrival we each took our pack, and, 
 in our turn, entered a house adoining the bathouse. Here we stripped off 
 all of our clothes and put these also into the bedsacks. They were then taken 
 out to a sterilizing machine outside, while we, covered by a blanket provided 
 for the occasion, went into the bathhouse for a hot shower. By the time we 
 had completed the bath, the bed sacks and their contents had been sterilized 
 and were awaiting us in another room. Although still steaming hot they 
 dried out before we were completely dressed. We then marched back to Ligne- 
 rolles, much cleaner than when we had left and this time effectively separated 
 from the hateful "cootie." 
 
 This was the first of a series of steps taken in preparation for our moving 
 and entering the Le Mans Area. On January 25th our guns were taken away 
 by the tractor, and that was the last we saw of them. Sidearms, signal equip- 
 ment and telephone lines were also turned in. Realizing that moving was 
 now only a matter of days we eagerly looked forward to our departure, for the 
 stay at Lignerolles had been dull and monotonous. We held daily practice 
 
 [38] 
 
(hi the inni in Brest. 
 
 marches with parks in training for the 9-kilometre hike to Latreceyj which we 
 would have to make when the moving orders arrived. A snow had fallen at 
 about this time, covering the roads with a slippery coating and making it 'dif- 
 ficult to retain one's balance. This became even more precarious when a snow- 
 ball barrage started coming over from the rear of the column. Those in the 
 front, however, had their revenge when after a halt they about-faced and 
 pelted the former offenders unmercifully. Nor did everyone escape without 
 injuries from these battles, for Sergeant Ronayne and Corporal Class carried 
 with them on their eyes for many days thereafter the scars of honorable 
 snowball warfare. 
 
 The snow had completely transformed the appearance of the surrounding 
 country with its white blanket. The Hacks of game in Hie snow had brought 
 out all the hunters of the neighborhood, and it was a common sight to see a 
 Frenchman dragging a wild hoar or a deer back from the chase. An old snow- 
 plow which was found in the village, was rigged up by the men and much spoil 
 was had running it through the streets to clear away the snow. A few brave 
 ones stood on the plow as it drove along while the rest of us lined up on the 
 side and pelted them with snowballs. 
 
 With the snow had come a siege of very cold weather and when February 
 8th, the day set for our moving, arrived, we were in the midst of the only 
 bitter cold snap we endured in France. A biting wind was blowing, which 
 made progress with our heavy packs up the long hills and over the slippery 
 roads to Latrecey slow and difficult. After two hours of this tiresome hiking 
 we arrived at our destination and stopped at a Y. M. <\ A. hut. where we were 
 served with a cup of hot chocolate and a jam sandwich. We then took shelter 
 from the wind in a barn near the railroad tracks, where we awaited the arrival 
 of our train. The "4(1 Homines" and "8 Ohevaux" type of French box cars 
 finally arrived and at 5 o'clock we piled in on the straw covering the floor, 
 anticipating an unpleasant journey. 
 
 I sin 
 
Chapter XIV. 
 
 THE LE MANS AREA AND BREST. 
 February 9, 1919, to April 20, 1919. 
 
 j|HE journey we now started on was by far the most disagreeable we 
 had yet experienced. With no explained reason for conditions 
 which showed criminal lack of provision for the men, we were 
 huddled together, in zero weather, in cold, bare box cars, forty to 
 a car. Our provisions for the trip, consisting of bread, and canned corned beef 
 and beans, were piled up in the center of the car. A latrine-can was placed 
 nearby and a lister bag was hung overhead. We were so closely jammed 
 together that it was even impossible to get up for our "grub," so we sat, ate 
 and tried to sleep in the same spot. Straw was strewn over the floor and 
 added to the dirt and filth. 
 
 The beans and canned corned beef froze and turned sour, and the water 
 froze in our canteens. The trip was miserable from beginning to end, and in 
 every detail. When we jumped off at a station and sought to buy some sand- 
 wiches which were on sale there, we were informed by the guard who had 
 been placed there that the sandwiches were "for officers only." What wonder 
 then that the attitude of the men as expressed by them was that the next war 
 would be "for officers only"? 
 
 There has been much criticism, chiefly to further partisan political pur- 
 poses, of the army, its officers and its management. Most of this has been 
 entirely unjustified, but here was a case where the neglect shown by the 
 military authorities was indeed blameworthy. There was not the slightest 
 indication that the comfort of the men had been given the smallest consider- 
 ation. 
 
 As a direct result of these conditions, thirty -nine men from our own 
 battery were sent to the hospital with "Spanish Influenza," the first cases 
 which we had. Battery F sent eighty to the hospital. Cook Schwartz was 
 taken from the train in an ambulance. Boom was sent away with pneumonia 
 and died. The loss of this fine soldier and comrade was much to be regretted 
 especially after the active fighting was over. 
 
 After two days and nights of this misery, we arrived at the town of La Suze 
 at 5 A. M., of February 11th, and detrained there. We enjoyed a cup of coffee 
 and some biscuits at the Y. M. C. A. and then hiked for four and one-half 
 kilos to the Chateau Bussoniere, near the village of Ferce. We marched 
 through a long walk, lined with overhanging evergreens to the chateau and its 
 adjoining buildings. Our billets consisted of ancient lofts, inhabited by 
 
 [90] 
 
"Amerieains soldats" oil the second floor, and cows, pigs and donkeys on the 
 tirst floor. 
 
 For the next six weeks we led a dull, uninteresting and purposeless exist- 
 ence here. The inspections of every possible kind, and the reviews by General 
 Pershing, General Alexander and General Glassford failed to stimulate our 
 imagination and interest to any great extent. We spent the mornings in 
 some form of work, such as gas-mask drill and wig-wag and semaphore drill, 
 the relation of which to our return to civil life and duties we failed to see. 
 In the afternoons, we engaged in athletics on an excellent athletic field, adjoin 
 ing the billets, and this we really enjoyed, when the weather was clear, which 
 was very rarely. 
 
 In the evenings, we either walked to the Y. M. C. A. in the nearby vil- 
 lage, where Newberry always had some excellent rumors in the way of "morale 
 builders" to hand out, or we gathered in the billets and listened to some 
 stirring address by "Jim" Coffey or Henry Mann on the subject, "Get the boys 
 home 'toot sweet.'" Jim, with much show of eloquence would quote Champ 
 Clark, Jim Jeffries and other of his favorite statesmen, while Henry, together 
 with "Willie" Farrell, Joe Hodel and other such Bolsheviki helped him along. 
 When the weather permitted "Speech" McDonough would take his place on 
 the small platform at the head of the stairway leading into the billets and 
 overlooking the muddy courtyard below, and would commence to harangue 
 the angry mob below, with much gesture and expression. When the mob was 
 held spellbound by his oratory, Yvonne, the buxom milkmaid of the chateau, 
 usually appeared with her herd of cows, who immediately began to "boo!" 
 ".Mac's" speech. This was the the signal for "boo's" on the part of every- 
 body, and Mac had to retire. 
 
A new schedule of calls had arrived, and we were now getting up as late 
 as 7 A. M. Wagner, Farren and Smith had been "practising" with the bugle 
 for a long time, as we well knew, and now they were requisitioned into service 
 as full-fledged buglers. They had their own way of blowing calls, however, 
 and it would have taken a telepathist to discover what call was being blown 
 at a particular time. The sound of the first note of the bugle was the signal 
 for innumerable cat-calls and hoots from every corner of the billets, forming 
 a medley that could have rivalled the sounds of a menagerie. 
 
 On March 17, St. Patrick's day, we gathered in the grounds surrounding 
 the chateau, dressed in our best, and had our pictures taken. A diminutive 
 photographer from La Suze took charge of the ceremonies, and his wife assisted 
 him. With much "kidding" from the other platoons, each platoou was taken 
 separately. The drivers, cannoneers and special details were also taken sep- 
 arately. The result was the "fine body of men'' pictured in the photographs 
 in this volume. 
 
 On March 21st, after one of the many field inspections we had been having, 
 in which we had to lay out every article of our equipment, we emptied our 
 bed-sacks, rolled our packs, picked up the rifles which had now beeu issued to 
 us, and hiked to La Suze, where we were billeted in the barracks at the Holding 
 Camp. We had been scheduled to sail from Prance in the early part of 
 April, and we thought that this was simply a move to the railhead to be ready 
 to entrain. The news, however, soon spread that our moving had again been 
 postponed, this time until April 28th. This had a very discouraging and 
 depressing effect on the men, and their morale was lower than it ever had been. 
 To make matters worse, there were plenty of details handed out daily, for 
 work in La Suze, which the men did not take very kindly to. 
 
 They drowned their troubles, however, every night at the gin-mill where 
 Georgette and Martha were the presiding goddesses. Here, "dez woofs" were 
 fried in large numbers, and wine, beer and every other beverage, excepting 
 water, were poured out in large quantities. The M. P.'s closed the place at 
 8:30 P. M., and they had a hard time getting everybody out. Weissberger, 
 who was partaking freely, was among the most noisy and obdurate, with the 
 result that he landed iu the guardhouse, and it took all the influence of Ser- 
 geant French to get him out. 
 
 At about this time, "Hank" Miller and "Red" Harknett left on furlough, 
 to retrace their steps over the front and bring back photographs for the volume. 
 After a wild time in Paris, they reached Fer-en-Tardenois and ventured forth 
 with a few loaves of bread and a couple of "huuks" of bologna. They fell in 
 with some grave-diggers who were the fortunate possessors of many bottles of 
 champagne, and "Hank" and "Red" bearing in mind that July 1st was ap- 
 proaching, imbibed. The result was that they were put to bed, entirely 
 oblivious of their mission. They sobered up, however, in time to bring back 
 an excellent collection of photographs, some of which are published in this 
 volume. 
 
 In the early part of April we started making preparations for moving. 
 Equipment was being daily called in and inspections were being held very 
 often. We "got the needle" again, were examined for "cooties," had a ther- 
 mometer stuck in our mouths and were then declared physically and morally 
 
 [95? 
 
lii full packs a! Hirst. 
 
 At Cum ii Pontenesen, Brest— 
 "Old lathi" Julian in foreground. 
 
 tit for embarkation and return to urn- families. The bright spot in our stay 
 here was t lit* production of t lit* regimental show, "Oh, <>h. Mademoiselle," in 
 which Grandin, Pons and Farren starred. 
 
 Early in the morning of April 17, the bugle blew, calling us to our final 
 train trip in France. We got on the trains nearby and left La Suze at 6:30. 
 This time we were quartered in large American box cars, fifty-six to a car. 
 Conditions were much more comfortable than on our last trip, and this, 
 together with the fact that we were definitely heading Tor home, raised our 
 spirits to the highest point. Mess was served to each car from a Q. M. C. 
 kitchen-car, and was much better "chow" than we had received on any of our 
 previous train rides. 
 
 We arrived at Brest very early next morning. The sight of the harbor 
 
 under the full moon, with the many boats anchored there, was certainly a wel- 
 come one. After getting some mess at a very sanitary and efficiently handled 
 mess-hall, we again hiked slowly up the same hill, which almost a year ago 
 we had climbed when first setting foot on France. The signs on the "gin- 
 mills'* had been changed from "Commerce de Yin" to "Modern Bar," one of 
 the many indications of Americanization which were visible everywhere. It 
 was enjoyable to look over the sights, feeling that it was the last lap in our 
 adventures where a year ago it had been the first. 
 
 The camp had been organized on a gigantic scale, and accommodations 
 were found for us without any difficulty. We were assigned to comfortable 
 squad-tents, six men to a tent. Two extra blankets were issued to every man and 
 
 w 1 was provided for the stoves in the tents. The next two days were spent 
 
 in every imaginable kind of inspection. We were again thoroughly de-loused 
 and received new clothing where it was needed. Our French money was ex- 
 changed for American. There was continual activity, and we were kept on the 
 jump every minute of the time. 
 
 On Sunday, April 20, after we had gathered for a regimental religious 
 service, word arrived that we were to immediately leave for our ship. This 
 announcement caused the greatest joy, and with laughter and cheers we went 
 about policing the area and rolling our packs with a vim. After a very hot 
 hike through Brest, we arrived at a pier where the Red Cross served us with 
 
 [03] 
 
Stopping enroute — "Five minutes rest.' 
 
 coffee and buns. We then hiked to a near-by wharf, where, with much expedi- 
 tion, we loaded the baggage of the entire brigade into motor cars. When this 
 work was finished, we hiked to another pier and loaded the same baggage on to 
 a lighter. Our names were then checked from a roster, and we left the shores 
 of France by sliding down a baggage chute on our packs into the lighter. 
 
 We slowly pulled away from shore towards the steamer "Agamemnon,'' 
 which we boarded by climbing up a rope ladder. Here, again, the duty fell 
 to us of unloading the baggage, from the lighter on to the steamer, and it was 
 not until nine o'clock that we were finished. Though much fatigued and 
 worn out we were working with spirit and eagerness. 
 
 We were assigned to wire bunks on "A" deck, port side, and after deposit- 
 ing our belongings on the bunks we went down to the mess-hall below and had 
 some sausages and rice-pudding for supper. We then retired, expecting to be 
 well awav from France before sunrise. 
 
 ■Prepare for Inspection" No. 9999. 
 
 On baggage lighter at Brest, April, 1919. 
 
 [di] 
 
Homeward bound — "Goodbye, France"' 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 April 21, 1919, to May 10. 1919. 
 
 HEN we awoke the next morning, we were disappointed to find our- 
 selves still at our moorings in the harbor. The anchors were 
 not raised until 12:30. With joyful emotion we lined up on deck 
 watching the receding shores of France. The weather was ideal 
 and for the rest of the day we basked in the sun and relaxed. It was hard to 
 helieve that we were at last actually on our way. 
 
 The meals were very poor and were served in a filthy mess-hall. The 
 German origin of the vessel probably explained why we were being served 
 bologna and sausages three times a day. One organization, however, was 
 fortunate enough to get ice-cream and cake one afternoon for the uniform 
 arrangement of their dubbin can covers. The Troop Commander who had 
 made an inspection of quarters had issued a general order with the usual 
 red tape and verbiage accompanying it. promising a reward of ice cream and 
 cake to the organization having the best arrangement of bunks. And, further 
 showing his excellent understanding of the psychology of the men he threat- 
 ened that the organization being responsible for the throwing of papers on 
 deck would he deprived of their supper. The general was the youngest 
 brigadier in the 1". S. Army. 
 
 The eight days at sea were uneventful and even uninteresting. We missed 
 the spontaneity of feeling which we had experienced on our trip across. We 
 seemed more callous and less susceptible to new impressions. On our first 
 trip, it had seemed so strange and novel to suddenly find ourselves on the 
 high seas, sailing we knew not where. Since then we had been thrust into so 
 many strange and unexpected situations that nothing any longer appealed 
 to us with novelty. 
 
 On the morning of April 29th, after an early breakfast, we rolled our 
 packs preparatory to disembarking. We were stationed by organizations on 
 the several decks with our guidons open and flowing in the breeze. When land 
 
was first sighted, we set up a yell and a cheer. The land became more and 
 more clearly visible. River craft became more numerous as we came nearer 
 and nearer to shores which were so familiar to us. And then many ferry- 
 boats, marked "Mayor's Committee of Welcome" and tugs approached with 
 bands playing, and men and women cheering and growing almost hysterical 
 in the excitement. We were overwhelmed with emotion. The bands on the 
 "Agamemnon" were all playing, and everywhere were laughter, cheers and joy- 
 ful sounds. 
 
 We docked at a pier in Hoboken, and as we got off the gangplank, friends 
 were thronging around the gates shouting and cheering and looking for 
 familiar faces. The Red Cross, K. of C. and Y. M. C. A. overwhelmed us 
 with fruit, candy, cake, cigarettes and other dainties which had not been 
 plentiful in France. There it had always been "Gimme," "Let me have" and 
 "Have you got?"; here they handed us freely more than we could carry. 
 
 After an excellent dinner, we boarded the ferryboat "Hempstead" and 
 headed for Long Island City. There we received another enthusiastic recep- 
 tion. The very large crowds which had gathered there were held in check by 
 the police. Bands were playing and shouts of recognition, welcome and joy 
 were heard everywhere. We theu marched to the trains nearby and boarded 
 comfortable electric trains, which whirled us in speed and comfort to Camp 
 Mills. How different from the box cars, on which but a few weeks earlier 
 we had been riding! 
 
 Upon arrival in camp, we were assigned to squad tents, where we quickly 
 made ourselves comfortable. We were a happy and enthusiastic lot and life 
 meant more to us now back in "God's Own Country." Telegrams, letters 
 and telephone messages arrived and before long everyone was in touch with his 
 friends and family. For the next few days, day and night, we were busy being 
 de-loused, equipped and inspected. After the de-lousing, the New York City men 
 were allowed home on pass. The discharge papers were being prepared and 
 the officers were kept continuously busy on the paper work. Mayer and Gran- 
 din were assisting in this task, as they had just received their belated com- 
 missions. 
 
 On Mondaj', May 5, we made up our packs and boarded trains for New 
 York. When we arrived there we were quartered in the (59th Regt. Armory, 
 26th Street and Lexington Avenue, awaiting the parade the next day. As soon 
 as we had made up our packs for the parade, we were dismissed for the rest 
 of the day. In the evening, we had a very enjoyable banquet in the Hotel 
 McAlpin, thanks to our Battery Fund and Sergeant Dichich's untiring work. 
 There was much music and entertainment provided and everyone had a fine 
 time. 
 
 The following morning we lined up at nine o'clock and formed on one 
 of the side streets for the parade, which started at ten. The streets were 
 thronged with people who were kept in check by the police. They were treat- 
 ing us like spoiled children, handing us every possible kind of sweets. The 
 buildings were gaily decorated and everybody was dressed in their cleanest 
 and best "duds." It was an officially declared holiday and the city had turned 
 out to do honor to "New York's Own." 
 
 [96] 
 
We marched in four parallel columns of squads up Fifth Avenue, with 
 bands playing and people cheering and yelling. Grandstands had been built, 
 on the side of the streets, but these could not accommodate the large crowds 
 which had turned out. At corners, the police had all they could do to keep 
 back the crowds which had gathered there. After this triumphal march, we 
 were dimissed for the day. The following morning, we gathered at the 
 Armory, made up our packs and then entrained for Camp Upton, where dur- 
 ing our stay of the next three days, the final touches were put on the demobil- 
 ization work. 
 
 On May Kith, 1919, after a night which we had spent in playing pranks 
 on each other, we marched in the heavy rain to the Q. M. C. office, where after 
 much delay we received our pay, our bonus and our railroad tickets. We then 
 marched to the station, and as we passed through the gate and shook hands 
 with Lieutenant Richard and Lieutenant Mann, we at last received our dis- 
 charges. We were again free men, entitled to the rights and privileges of 
 democracy which we had lost in fighting for it. Once more we were free 
 agents with control over our own actions and method of life. 
 
 On the train, we were wild with joy. We shook hands with each other 
 and wished each other luck. And when we pulled into the station, we shook 
 hands with the many comrades whom we would probably never see again. 
 Fate had thrown us together for many months and now Fate was parting us. 
 It was sad for many to leave friends who had shown their mettle as men and 
 as friends on more than one occasion. We exchanged addresses and parted, 
 each going his own way. What had once been Battery I), 304th Ft A., was now 
 but a memory to its members, scattered through every state in the Union. 
 
 [97] 
 
AN INSIGHT INTO A DRIVER'S LIFE. 
 
 N the afternoon of September 4th, with a fourgon wagon loaded 
 with rations, we left the peace and security of the Nesle Woods, 
 in the Vesle sector, headed for the gun position some four kilos 
 up front. The weather was fine and warm, and everything was 
 exceptionally quiet, or appeared so to us who had travelled this same road 
 but 10 hours before to the music of bursting shells, the whirr of the Boche 
 planes, and the occasional explosion of a bomb. Arriving at the gun position 
 we found everybody in great excitement and jubilation. The Boche were 
 falling back, and orders had come for a general advance — our first important 
 one. Runners had been sent to the echelon for the horses, telephone wires 
 had been pulled in, guns taken out of position and Sergeant Dichich was 
 distributing "iron rations" with a liberal hand. 
 
 After dumping the rations we loaded up with extra G. I. cans, and other 
 kitchen utensils that could not be carried on a rapid march, with which we 
 started back for the echelon. By this time news of the advance had been 
 received in the rear and the countryside was swarming with men and horses. 
 Column after column of infantry crept along in the shelter of the woods. 
 Horse-drawn limbers and motor-trucks crowded the roads. Everyone was 
 hurrying forward in pursuit of the Huns. About halfway back we met Ser- 
 geant French in charge of our own horses, and he without any further cere- 
 mony salvaged my lead team, leaving me to make my way back alone and with 
 but a single pair to draw the G. S. wagon. 
 
 I eventually arrived, however, and found everything in even greater excite- 
 ment than at the gun position. Everybody was working — an uncommon sight 
 at the echelon. Sergeant Pons was endeavoring to put two sacks of grain 
 where only one should be. Sergeant Von Pless was folding blankets, loading 
 hay, piling up harness and issuing orders in double-quick time. Sergeant 
 Munday, busily engaged in directing the policing of the picket line, found 
 time to locate one or two loafers and set them to work; while Vincer, with a 
 most rueful expression on his cheery countenance sat regarding a huge black 
 stallion whose forelegs, bandaged to the knees, were comfortably placed in a 
 huge tub of water. He was wondering, no doubt, how such an enormous 
 useless bulk could be transported most easily across the long and weary 
 marches to Berlin. 
 
 My outfit was at once commandeered by Sergeant Olackner, the wagon 
 backed up to the supply shack, and Propp, ably assisted by a few extra men, 
 sent over a normal barrage of old shoes, overcoats, shovels, underwear, hats, 
 and most anything he could lay his hands on. This conglomeration of the 
 non-essentials of victorious warfare we hauled to the Supply Company dump 
 and turned over to the solicitous care of Rocco Manzo, who spent many an 
 easy day in profound contemplation of their beauty. 
 
 Between these trips to the Supply Company, and when the sergeant's 
 back was turned, I ate my bread and beans, struck my tent, made my pack, 
 and instructed Otto Nelson, the original McNutt, in the complicated and 
 difficult task of arranging and adjusting a set of No. 1 French harness to a 
 
 [98] 
 
The "minim 
 
 "hrltm in the ravine near I'n-i 
 
 pair of No. 3 horses. The aforementioned Boob had been up to this time 
 attached to the nuns, and in the emergency was now promoted to the position 
 of driver. Many a half hour I spent explaining to him the nigh and the 
 off side, the hocks and the dock and the other niceties of a driver's life. He 
 was an apt pupil, however, and soon learned the art of disappearing when a 
 call came for a team to go out at night. 
 
 By !) o'clock everything seemed ready and a last inspection of the camp 
 revealed a dozen cannoneers peacefully slumbering with their heads on their 
 packs, as usual enjoying life to the full. After arousing these knights of 
 war to the stern realities of the driver's nightly life, we set out, only to be 
 stopped, after advancing a kilometer or so, by a message from the Captain 
 ordering us to encamp until morning. 
 
 Pulling up close to the woods we tied our horses to the wagons, and 
 slept under the trees. At the first break of day we again set out, and, after 
 advancing several kilometres, we went into camp to await orders from the 
 tiring battery. During this wait we spent our leisure houi-s in the usual 
 pastime of grooming by the numbers, from the hocks down, leading horses 
 miles to water, cleaning harness and polishing up as if for a parade on Fifth 
 Avenue, while the cannoneers, poor fellows, policed the picket lines and dug 
 the latrines. 
 
 The next day word came to move forward again as the enemy had taken 
 up a position along the Aisne River. We started at noon and had much 
 difficulty in pulling the heavily loaded wagons through the mud and ruts 
 of the wooded road. Time and again we would have to double up to draw 
 the wagons across some particularly bad spot. Once out of the woods, how- 
 ever, the journey was easy, down the long slope and across the Yesle valley. 
 
strewn with the decomposed bodies of both German and American soldiers. 
 We encamped on the side of the hill near Bazoches, where the echelon remained 
 for several days. 
 
 Up to this time it was customary to picket all the horses at the echelon, 
 but now it was considered advisable to keep a sufficient number to pull the 
 guns and ammunition within easy reach of the emplacement, thus dividing 
 the battery into three parts; the gun emplacement at the front, the echelon 
 at the rear, and the picket line between the two. I was directed to join the 
 picket line near Perles on the following morning. 
 
 It was located in a deep gully, and I would have passed it by had I not 
 seen my old friend Brozowski coming around a clump of bushes with a couple 
 of feed-bags over his shoulder. I knew at once that the horses were nearby 
 and also that neither Sergeant Von Pless nor Corporal Schwab were within 
 hailing distance, otherwise "George" and "Charlie" would not be about to 
 partake of this additional afternoon ration. Brozowski's husky pair of 
 dappled greys enjoyed many a "salvaged" feed and thus continuously gained 
 weight, even at the front. They were also famous for their nasty habit of 
 sitting on the breeching-strap, which caused the early evacuation of more 
 than one lead pair. But Brozowski loved them with all his heart, and would 
 not have parted with them for anything — no, not even in return for a 
 redeemed Poland. The accommodations at this place were limited, but I was 
 fortunate enough to find room on the ground floor of the rude shack which 
 served as a stable, with Hawley, Allard, Russell and one or two stragglers. 
 Directly above us Fuller, Gilmore and Cain were quartered on the side of the 
 hill, and the other drivers occupied the opposite bank. At dusk that evening 
 the old familiar litany of Sergeant Von Pless rang out: "Bradshaw, Fisher 
 and O'Brien haul ammunition — also Carlsen, Bowler and Peterson, Corporal 
 Schwab in charge." 
 
 We pulled out just as a severe thunderstorm was breaking. The darkness 
 was intense. The road was in a fearful condition with mud and shell-holes. 
 The rain fell in torrents, while the sharp crash of thunder and the dull ominous 
 roar of bursting shells rolled and reverberated through the valley bearing their 
 message of danger and striking terror to the hearts of the stoutest. Occasionally 
 a flare from the trenches on our right lit up the sky, causing us to halt until 
 the light flickered out. We advanced about 200 yards in this manner when 
 suddenly the off wheels of the wagon dropped down to the bottom of a huge 
 shell-hole about six feet deep, filled almost to the top with mud and water. 
 The 200 rounds of explosives with which the cart was loaded were scattered 
 in all directions, some at the bottom of the hole and others in a bunch of thorn 
 bushes some 20 feet away. By the time we had the wagon righted and the 
 shells fished out of the mud and thorns the storm had cleared and a pale 
 sickly moon shed a faint light over the rain-soaked fields. We continued on 
 our journey only to meet with a really dangerous situation. 
 
 We had reached the top of the hill, from which the gun position was located 
 some 800 yards down the slope and a little to our left. As we stopped to 
 rest our horses, after the long pull up the hill, a shell burst about 400 yards 
 down the slope and a short distance to our right. This was followed by 
 another and still another, in about half minute intervals. We all knew what 
 
 [100] 
 
that meant. "Jerry" was sending over one of his sweeping bursts of fire, 
 covering the whole hill from right to left and back again. If he would not 
 increase his range we might be all right. We could, of course, mill back down 
 the hill and be in comparative safety. But every yard gained on such a road 
 counted, and the guns were sorely in need of ammunition. We therefore 
 decided to remain where we were and wait for the shelling to cease. After a 
 few vollies "Jerry" increased the range, so that soon the shells were bursting 
 directly in front of us, and uncomfortably close. The air was tilled with gas 
 and smoke. The frequent explosions sent clouds of rock and dirt in all 
 directions, covering our soaking clothing with mud and causing more than 
 one fervent prayer that the projectiles would not be changed to shrapnel. 
 
 The volley soon passed, however, and we rushed pell-mell down the hill to 
 the gun emplacement, arousing the cannoneers from their peaceful slumbers 
 and causing much anxiety for the safety of their camouflaged huts that lined 
 the roadway. Looking back we saw another gust of tire sweeping the crest 
 of the hill and blowing to pieces the very spot where we had halted but a few 
 minutes before. 
 
 All that night we worked, enlarging the I*. C. and hauling the dirt far out 
 into the fields. The cold East wind blew across the bleak hillside, penetrating 
 our soaked clothing and freezing us to the very marrow of our bones. Just 
 as the pale grey light of dawn came creeping across the battlefield we crawled 
 silently back to our camp and rolled into our blankets for a few minutes of 
 sleep. 
 
 About an hour or so later we were awakened by the none too welcome call 
 of "Come and get it." Tired as we were, the pangs of hunger soon overcame 
 the desire for sleep, and in a very few minutes we were all devouring our 
 syrup and bacon, feeling strength and youth return as each sticky mouthful 
 slid home. It is life-giving stuff, this Army bacon, for we were all soon back 
 at our daily monotonous job of watering, feeding and grooming. 
 
 Thus our life went merrily on during the entire war, varied only slightly 
 by the long inarches from one front to another. But even these hikes were 
 tiresome enough. Although we were not disturbed by the whine of "Jerry's" 
 shells we were supposed to ride for hours in true military fashion with "thumbs 
 up and heels down." Most of us did not, of course, but this compelled us to 
 keep always on the alert, and observe whenever an officer approached. Then 
 we would take the position that best befitted the dignity and bearing of a 
 true American soldier. 
 
 On these marches from our comfortable seat in the saddle, as we looked 
 down upon the poor unlucky cannoneers humping their packs, and painfully 
 picking out the soft spots whereon to place their tired, swollen feet, we 
 were always reminded that we were not the most unfortunate men in the 
 world. This feeling became a conviction when during our frequent halts we 
 would stand sedately by and watch these "dugout kings" patiently transfer 
 the juicy herbs of the wayside to the ravenous mouths of our weary animals. 
 
 [1(11 
 
2)icl ButiilUon 0. P. on the Vesle front. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF AN OBSERVER. 
 
 N the night of September 23rd, while dozing by the side of the great 
 highroad from St. Menehold to Verdun I was brought to my senses 
 by the familiar ery "On your feet ! Everybody up !" From down 
 the road came the sound of horses and vehicles and then a long 
 drawn out "Halt." The battery had arrived. We quickly slung our packs 
 and fell in as the column moved past — greeting old friends here and there. 
 There was Dan Philpot and Tommy Price and two gigantic feet protruding 
 from the rear of a fourgon wagon and the rattle of a pick and shovel announced 
 that old George Harknett was among those present. 
 
 I soon learned that the firing battery was on its way back to the lines and 
 the dope at this point seemed to be that we were going to take over a quiet 
 sector — in the Argonne Forest — while fresh troops were to start a great 
 offensive elsewhere. The comparative quiet up ahead seemed to add weight 
 to this idea, and I had visions of living in a hut amongst the pines — fishing in 
 some mountain stream, perhaps — and now and then climbing a convenient 
 tree to observe the Germans and see that they were behaving themselves. 
 
 About midnight, while the column was halted for a short rest, the 
 Captain came up and engaged me in conversation. It occurred to me that 
 he was giving me more than the usual amount of attention. "Are you ready 
 to do some scouting, Corporal? To do some scouting. Corporal? Ready to 
 do some scouting?" "Yes! Yes!" I assured him, having in mind, however, the 
 pine tree and mountain stream kind of scouting. I thought no more of this 
 conversation until the next morning, when, having snatched a few hours' sleep, 
 I was summoned by the Captain. "Corporal/' he said, "we are starting a big 
 offensive on this front and your job will be to go along with the advance infan- 
 try to assist the regimental liaison officer. Report to Lieutenant Lunny at 
 the 305th Infantry regimental headquarters at 4:00 to-day." 
 
 Long before this, of course, I had been disillusioned as to what we were 
 going to do in this sector. Plainly we were not there just to hold the lines. 
 
 [102] 
 

 
 . 
 
 
 
 - K '•;.<■$« 
 
 ft 
 
 : 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ; 
 
 
 Observation tree on Aisnt front — looking 
 
 down toward Aisne Canal, with Chemin-des- 
 
 Dames in background. 
 
 The imposing array of guns of all kinds told us plainly thai something bi«>- was 
 coming off and that we would be right in the middle of it. So I wiped out 
 the mental picture of myself sojourning in the primeval forest and in its stead 
 had a vision of myself securely planted in the top of a high tree overlooking 
 the lines — seeing the whole show in comparative safety — and cheering on the 
 doughboys pursuing the Germans as they tin-canned tor the Rhine. But, of 
 course, the little interview with the Captain had knocked the bottom right 
 out of that lovely dream, too. 
 
 That afternoon Lieutenant Lunnv outlined my work to me. I was to have 
 charge of a detail of four men — two from E Battery and two from F. and our 
 job would be to effect liaison between the advance infantry alid our guns by 
 means of telephone and runner. After one good night's sleep I was just 
 preparing for another when the fateful message arrived. "Report at 305th 
 Infantry regimental headquarters al 5:00 o'clock, ready to move." 
 
 It was pitch dark as we started off through the forest — several infantry 
 officers in the lead, followed by a motley company of infantry and machine-gun 
 runners. Each man guided himself by holding on to the pack of the man 
 ahead of him. The path was rough and uneven as it wound up hill and down, 
 while here and there shattered trees obstructed the way. Several times on 
 steep descents the human chain broke and a struggling mass would be depos- 
 ited in some gully. Such mishaps were taken good-naturedly, however, as the 
 spirit of adventure was in us all by now. After about an hour's travel we 
 picked our way through a long support trench and finally merged into a barren 
 valley, through which coursed a sickly stream. The moon was coming up by 
 now ami the surrounding landscape could be plainly seen. Signs of death and 
 destruction were everywhere. Through long years of war this once beautiful 
 valley had been steadily reduced until now it presented the picture of a 
 sandy waste peopled by stark and starving tree stalks. 
 
 In the usual democratic manner of the infantry officer of the front lines, 
 the captain in command assembled everyone about him and informed them 
 as to the situation. Our own front lines were just over the brow of the hill 
 which rose up ahead of us. The hill extended to the north in the form of a 
 plateau — and about SO or 100 yards beyond our own front lines were the 
 German forward positions. Under the brow of the hill, on our side, were 
 several dugouts, caves and trenches. We were to make ourselves as comfort- 
 
Old French gun position used hi/ 304 F. A. 
 as observation post, Aisne sector. 
 
 able as possible for the night and be prepared to move forward at a moment's 
 notice. Absolute quiet was enjoined upon us, and as we approached the top 
 of the hill shadowy sentinels warned us to keep our heads down and to stay 
 under cover. After several hours' strenuous work I was able to report that 
 communication was established, our detail having connected up our new posi- 
 tion with a line that Lieutenant Reimard's details had run out from 304th P. A. 
 headquarters that afternoon. We then looked around for a place in which 
 we could get a wink or two of sleep. We soon found that everything had been 
 grabbed by either officers or runners. I tried to worm my way into a cave 
 full of runners — nothing doing — 1 couldn't even find a place to stand up. 
 Off to the right I noticed a dugout. It looked very quiet round about it, 
 neither packs nor guns outside, and I figured that it might have been over- 
 looked. Crawling over on hands and knees I pushed the door cautiously 
 open and my hopes went up as I saw that there was plenty of vacant space 
 therein. Just then a voice from the corner: "Who is there?" "An artillery- 
 man, looking for a place to sleep," said I. "There are officers in here," came 
 back in icy tones. Hastily withdrawing, I crawled back to my original posi- 
 tion — thanking the good Lord for the darkness that hid my blush of shame 
 and humiliation over the terrible blunder. I finally crawled into a hole which 
 I later found to be a latrine and managed to doze off. 
 
 A short time later I was awakened by a stir down the path. The dough 
 boys were filing into the front-line trenches. With set and serious faces the;? 
 trudged silently up the hill and took their places in the trenches. If there 
 was any joking light-heartedness in their manner, such as we sometimes read 
 about, it was not visible to me. Evidently they knew what they were up 
 against. 
 
 Now our big guns are opening up. What has been a fitful fire all evening, 
 an occasional shot off to our right or left, soon develops into a steady roar. 
 For the first hour or so the fire seemed to be directed to the German back 
 areas, but along about half-past three it seemed to come perceptibly closer 
 
 [104] 
 
Mine cratt 
 
 r in No Man's La 
 
 figure mi 
 
 far side is Earl 
 feet deep 
 
 and soon thereafter the shells tame zipping down near the German front 
 lines, seeming to scale our heads by a very narrow margin. So close they 
 came, iu fact, that I began casting my eye about for a spot that would offer 
 some measure of protection from our own side. 
 
 Figuring out the chances for a "short,'* I began to run through my mind 
 the dependability of some of the men on the guns. Let me see — there is Ned 
 Van Buren — Van being a farmer might very well get rattled at the crucial 
 moment. Then there is Old George 1'lrich. I never thought much of Ul's 
 control and I hoped to Heaven that he would have more success at placing his 
 shots than he had in locating the plate. Then a cold shiver ran down my 
 back and perspiration stood out all over me. Shades of Heaven! Joachim 
 Simas is on the guns. Then I remembered all the stalwarts on the guns — 
 Barney Lowell, Walter Kotrba, doe Lambe and many others — and I began 
 to gain confidence. 
 
 At the first sign of dawn the barrage lengthened out perceptibly and as 
 the shell-bursts moved away we knew that the doughboys were going over. 
 We were all on our feet by this time prepared for anything. It was several 
 hours, however, before we moved forward, and in the meantime the wounded 
 and prisoners were moving to the rear in a steady stream. Several of the 
 prisoners were interrogated by the infantry captain and it was curious to 
 watch their demeanor. One old fellow was extremely nervous. He was very 
 polite and servile and could not say enough good things about the Americans, 
 the German army was in rout and the Kaiser was preparing to make his 
 getaway. On the other hand another fellow was very surly anil refused to 
 stand up until he had been judiciously prodded with a bayonet. 
 
 We finally got the order to move forward and after filing 50 yards or so 
 ahead to the frontline trenches, we climbed over the top and started down 
 across No Man's Land. This No Man's Land was of the old 1914-1915 variety 
 — simply a mass of churaed-up wreckage — shell and mine craters 20 and 30 
 feet deep littered with wooden splinters ami coils and strands of rusted barbed 
 wire. Working our way slowly and laboriously through the wreckage, we 
 finally gained the German trenches, only to find them reduced to the same 
 chaotic condition by our recent fire. The sun was burning down out of a 
 cloudless sky as we picked our way along — wringing wet with sweat and 
 plastered with mud and grime. 
 
 [105] 
 
At one point where we halted for a breathing spell I climbed up on the 
 top of a small mound from where I could observe the country on the German 
 side. Scattered bands of doughboys coidd be seen roving here and there in 
 the foreground — evidently still engaged in "mopping up" activities. Occasional 
 German shells splashed into the sea of wreckage out in front while from the 
 fringe of woods a kilometre or so ahead came the angry, hysterical rattle of the 
 enemy machine guns. We made our way steadily forward under improving 
 conditions until about 4 :00 in the afternoon, when we reached a deep trench 
 about three kilometres beyond our position of the previous night. Here we spent 
 the night, the officers and some of the runners in an excellent bomb-proof shel- 
 ter — the rest of us in the trench itself. What with standing-room only, a 
 drenching rainstorm, mud, cold, and heavy shell and machine-gun fire we 
 spent a most miserable night and it was with a feeling of deliverance almost, 
 that we watched the slow dawn of the new day. 
 
 With the sunshine came Walter Croy and Jack Thompson — fresh from 
 an observing venture with Lieutenant Stevens. They had attempted to em- 
 ploy our usual tree method of observing, but in this forest jungle nothing of 
 value could be accomplished. Inquiring of Croy as to the whereabouts of his 
 inseparable companion, "Bennie" Freeman, I was informed that "Bennie" was 
 holding discreetly to the rear and maintaining his usual prime running con- 
 dition. 
 
 After another miserable night in the trench we moved rapidly forward 
 and for several days sat by and hugged close to the ground as the doughboys 
 worked around and snaked out the numerous machine-gun nests. It was a 
 dirty dangerous job that they had, performed under the worst possible condi- 
 tions of cold and rain and mud. 
 
 The eighth day out found us huddled in a shallow trench by the side of a 
 road, which was effectively blocked by two very formidable machine-gun nests. 
 Time after time platoons of doughboys disappeared into the jungle in an 
 effort to clean out the guns. At each attempt a wild rattle of machine guns 
 would be our warning to duck, while the bullets pinged and popped and 
 snapped among us. 
 
 That afternoon Lieutenant Lunivy informed us that our relief was on the 
 way. So, exhausted from exposure and lack of sleep, it was with a feeling of 
 thankfulness that we espied coming up the road the stalwart forms of Sergeant 
 Page, Corporal Kominsky, Louis Fronim, and several other E Battery men, 
 prepared to take over our mission. 
 
 Familiar faces were all along the homeward trail. There was Sergeant 
 French riding over to the gun position, and a little further on the gallant 
 Corporal McDonough in charge of a convoy of G. S. wagons, headed for the 
 rear and furnishing a most welcome lift back to the battery. 
 
 [106] 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 <K 
 
 [oster 
 
 
 
 
 Mahnii. Robert V. 
 
 Captain 
 
 4(1 Wall St.. New York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Richard, Auguste 
 
 1st Lt. 
 
 (Ill East 56th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Lunny, James E. 
 
 1st I.t. 
 
 508 16th St.. Brooklyn. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Maim. John W. 
 
 2nd Lt. 
 
 .Kill! Newark St.. Cleveland Park, Washii 
 ton. I). C. 
 
 s " 
 
 
 
 Mayer, Joseph .1. 
 
 2nd Lt. 
 
 107 Lathrop St., Buffalo. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Grandin, Victor S. 
 
 2nd Lt. 
 
 0(12 West 146th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 French, Oscar I,. 
 
 1st Sgt. 
 
 127 Reservoir St., Hinton, W. Ya. 
 
 
 
 
 Clackner, Jehu I,. 
 
 Supply Sg 
 
 350 Clermont Ave.. Brooklyn, X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Pons, Claude 
 
 Stable Sj;t 
 
 110 West 107th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Dichich, Mike 
 
 Mess Sgt. 
 
 252 West 39th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Aigeltinger, Frank W. 
 
 Sgt, 
 
 47.". West 142nd St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Cross, Miles E. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 Eureka. Sullivan Co.. Xew York. 
 
 
 
 
 Darling, George G. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 Oil West 156th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Harknett, George 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 1200 Shakespeare Ave.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Lowell, John B. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 500 7th St.. Brooklyn. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Munday, Thomas E. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 362 11th St.. Brooklyn. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Ostermann, Wm., Jr. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 527 West 152nd St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Ronayne, Paul J. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 .".44(1 Broadway. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Ruggiero, Salvatore 1'. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 3636 Barnes Ave.. Xew Y'ork City. 
 
 
 
 
 Von Pless, William F. 
 
 Sgt. 
 
 17(i Seneca St.. Buffalo. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Barger, Jesse W. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Mohegan Lake, X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Barth. Jacob F. 
 
 ('1.1. 
 
 Keating Summitt. I'a. 
 
 
 
 
 Croy, Walter ('. 
 
 ('1.1. 
 
 Glencoe, Iowa. 
 
 
 
 
 Freedman. Robert 
 
 ('III. 
 
 628 West 151st St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Class, Joseph 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 170 Broadway. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Jacobson, William 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 731 East 10th St.. Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Jonas. James E. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 410 West 12!>th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Kotrba. Walter 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 420 E. 73rd St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Lainbe, Joseph 
 
 ( pi. 
 
 202 West 153rd St., Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Levins, Stephen J. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 2872 Bailey Ave., Kingsbridge, X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 McDonough, Harry 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 420 West 144th St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Miller. Henry L. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 105 West 77th St., Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Murphy, Albert V. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 loo Morningside Ave., Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Nelson, Robert E. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 140 Willis Ave.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Xoxon. Mitchell 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 S3 X T orthern Ave., Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Oglesby. Andrew K. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 214 Leeds Ave.. Indianapolis. Ind. 
 
 
 
 
 Petchle. Claude B. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 52 Clarkson St.. Brooklyn. X. Y'. 
 
 
 
 
 Rost, George 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Bridgeport, Conn. 
 
 
 
 
 Rucker, Clarence E. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Blasdell. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Schapiro, Harry 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 570 West 161st St.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 
 
 Schlosser. Frederick R. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 110 Wildwood Ave.. Buffalo. X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Schwab. Philip 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Holland Ave.. Ebenezer, X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 Simas, Antonio .1. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 50 Pearl St.. Xew York city. 
 
 
 
 
 Smith. Harold ('. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Downs. Kansas. 
 
 
 
 
 Smith. Thomas B. 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 Fork. Arkansas. 
 
 
 
 
 Stuart. Clinton 1.. 
 
 ('Id. 
 
 Blasdell, X. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 107 
 

 
 
 
 
 Talbot, John 
 
 Cpl. 
 
 2137 Valentine Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Philpot, Daniel 
 
 Ch. Mech. 
 
 414 East 135th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Price, Thomas H. 
 
 Mech. 
 
 104 Union Ave., Mariners Harbor, 
 Staten Island, N. Y. 
 
 
 Simonson, Charles 
 
 Mech. 
 
 1869 Pacific St., Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 
 Nelson, Andrew 
 
 Mech. 
 
 389 Clinton St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Foster, Philip W. 
 
 Horseshoer 
 
 97 West 9th St., Oswego, N. Y. 
 
 
 Walsh, Edward J. 
 
 Horseshoer 
 
 165 Jefferson Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Corrado, Antonio 
 
 Saddler 
 
 33 Crescent St., Swampscott, Mass. 
 
 
 Appicella, Louis 
 
 Cook 
 
 1063 Park Ave., New Yoik City. 
 
 
 Geyer, Charles G. 
 
 Cook 
 
 86 Himrod St., Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 
 Pappas, William G. 
 
 Cook 
 
 265 Main St., Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 
 
 
 Schwartz, Isadore 
 
 Cook 
 
 475 Powell St., New York City. 
 
 
 Farren, John J. 
 
 Bugler 
 
 Amherst, Mass. 
 
 
 Smith, Edward J. 
 
 Bugler 
 
 Scranton Ave., Valley Stream, N. Y. 
 
 
 Wagner, William W. 
 
 Bugler 
 
 956 Tiffany St., New York City. 
 
 
 Aske, Leonard A. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Prosper, Minn. 
 
 
 Beglan, John L. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 117 West 96th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Burdick, Donald E. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Bolivar, N. Y. 
 
 
 Cleary, William M. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 53 West St., Chicopee, Mass. 
 
 
 Coffey, James J. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 513 3rd Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Culliton, Austin J. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Warren, Mass. 
 
 
 Farrell, William A. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 2796 8th Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Fisher, Mike J. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 140 Exchange St., Chicopee, Mass. 
 
 
 Freeman, Benjamin 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 20 Rutgers Place, New York City. 
 
 
 Goodman, Frank 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 522 West 3rd St., Bloomington, Ind. 
 
 
 Graves, Victor H. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 463 West 2nd St., Elmira. N. Y. 
 
 
 Guida, Anthony 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 313 East 48th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Hecht, Theodore 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 560 West 149th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Heller, Joseph A., Jr. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 219 East 114th St.. New York City. 
 
 
 Hodel, Joseph, Jr. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 110 South 11th Ave., White Stone, N. Y. 
 
 
 Hoffmann, William J. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Mclntire, Iowa. 
 
 
 Howard, George F. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 82 Schaeffer St., Brooklyn. X. Y. 
 
 
 Jackson, Lloyd B. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 New Market, Iowa. 
 
 
 Johnson, Edwin G. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 8 Charles Place, Woodhaven, N. Y. 
 
 
 Jones, William, Jr. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 771 Forest Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Kory, Louis 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 2125 67th St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Kvalheim, Rangvald 0. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Ortenville. Minn. 
 
 
 Lendzun, John 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 360 3rd Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Lyons, Burton A. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI; 
 
 638 West 151st St., New York City. 
 
 
 McBride, William E. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 35 Martin St., Wellsville, N. Y. 
 
 
 McFadden, Barth A. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 333 Manhattan Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Machby, Herman 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 51S West 151st St., New York City. 
 
 
 Mann, Henry ■ 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 403 East S8th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Moehle, Albert C. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 308 East 9th St., South Salt Lake City. Utah. 
 
 
 Newman, Joseph F. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 4422 Park Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 O'Brien, Osmund 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 81 York St., Jersey City. N. J. 
 
 
 O'Reilly, James 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 590 Court St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Ostertag, Paul R. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 151 Edgecomb Ave.. New York City. 
 
 
 Parrett, John R. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Bloomington, Mass. 
 
 
 Parsons, John R. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 MeClusky, North Dakota. 
 
 
 Pfaff, William F.. Jr. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 18 Grove St., Stapleton, S. I. 
 
 
 Propp, Ellis 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 3681 Broadway, New York City. 
 
 
 Roth, Chris 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Belden. Nebraska. 
 
 
 Sagman, Ernest 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 1490 Brook Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Scheller, Fred 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 504 East 7th St., New York City. 
 
 
 Tansey, George 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Richmondville, N. Y. 
 
 
 Thompson, John G. 
 
 Pvt. 1st CI. 
 
 Blasdell. N. Y. 
 
 
 
 
 
 [108] 
 

 
 
 Ulrich, George L. I'vt 
 
 1st CI. Gardenville, X. Y. 
 
 
 Van Auken, Alfred R. I'vt 
 
 1st CI. Decatur City. Iowa. 
 
 
 Van Buren, Ned. I'vt 
 
 1st CI. Snmmitt. X. Y. 
 
 
 Vincer. Arthur F. Pvt 
 
 1st CI. Glen Ave.. Sea Cliff. I,. I.. X. Y. 
 
 
 Woods. Harlan H. I'vt 
 
 1st CI. Unshford. X. Y. 
 
 
 Zittel, Edward J. I'vt 
 
 1st CI. R. F. D. ::. Hamburg. X. Y. 
 
 
 Agnelli, Joseph Pvt 
 
 otter River. Mass. 
 
 
 Allard, Felix I'vt 
 
 Southbridge, Mass. 
 
 
 Anselmi, Galiano I'vt 
 
 617 Lorimer St.. Brooklyn, X. Y. 
 
 
 Appleby, Robert I'vt 
 
 Mystic. Iowa. 
 
 
 Bailey, Gaylord I'vt 
 
 1208 Brookdale Ave., Chariton, Iowa. 
 
 
 Bang, Walter I'vt 
 
 Royal. Iowa. 
 
 
 Barham. Lee I'vt 
 
 Edgerton, Minn. 
 
 
 Barrett, William I'vt 
 
 220 East 57th St., Xew York City. 
 
 
 Billings, Elton L. I'vt 
 
 Friendship. X. Y. 
 
 
 Blades. Guy E. I'vt 
 
 Manassa. Colorado. 
 
 
 Bowler, Patrick Pvt 
 
 650 High St., Holyoke, Mass. 
 
 
 Bradshaw, James D. Pvt 
 
 2X Depot St.. Adams. Mass. 
 
 
 Braga. Joseph F. Pvt 
 
 140 Stewart St.. Fall River. Mass. 
 
 
 Bridger, Alva E. Pvt 
 
 Decatur City. Iowa. 
 
 
 Brotz, Elmer J. I'vt 
 
 •_'L'l Cray St.. Buffalo. X. Y. 
 
 
 Brozowski. Charles Pvt 
 
 S.\ Middle St.. Fitchl.urg. Mass. 
 
 
 Cain. Harley J. Pvt 
 
 Clearfield. Iowa. 
 
 
 ("arisen. Axel L. Pvt 
 
 Xorthorne. Minn. 
 
 
 Carter, William I'vt 
 
 Chicago. 111. 
 
 
 Cartwright, Earl I'vt 
 
 Detroit. Minn. 
 
 
 Caudell, Floyd I'vt 
 
 Stanton, Ky. 
 
 
 Christensen. Axel I'vt 
 
 Ringstead. Iowa. 
 
 
 Chnrella. Joseph J. I'vt 
 
 Pattoii. Pa. 
 
 
 Coleman, Rudolph I'vt 
 
 395 Waddell St.. Leetonia, Ohio. 
 
 
 Coiioway, Ephraim B. Pvt 
 
 Yaughnsville. Ohio. 
 
 
 Cooper. William S. I'vt 
 
 Fitzwilliam. X. H. 
 
 
 Coren. Hymen Pvt 
 
 East Port. Me. 
 
 
 Conrehene, Aristide I'vt 
 
 142 Sale St.. Woonsocket. R. I. 
 
 
 Crean. Peter Pvt 
 
 446 Maple St., Holyoke. Mass. 
 
 
 Cullinane, John Pvt 
 
 Roxbury, Mass. 
 
 
 Curley. Thomas V. Pvt 
 
 100 Pine St.. Dedham, Mass. 
 
 
 Curnan. Patrick Pvt 
 
 2701 8th Ave.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 Dalton, Edward W, I'vt 
 
 7 Leonard St.. Milford. Mass. 
 
 
 DePretto, Henry Pvt 
 
 124 23rd St.. West Xew York. X. J. 
 
 
 Dick. Albert C. Pvt 
 
 720 McKinley Ave.. X. W.. Canton. Ohio. 
 
 
 Donnelly, John Pvt 
 
 412 Prospect Ave., Brooklyn, X. Y. 
 
 
 Downes, Ernest J. Pvt 
 
 1838 Mrd Ave.. Xew York City. 
 
 
 Oyer, Thomas B. Pvt 
 
 27 Lawn Ave.. Pawtucket, R. I. 
 
 
 Emerson. Robert M. I'vt 
 
 3 Clifford Ave.. Ware. Mass. 
 
 
 Fitzgerald, Nicholas J. Pvt 
 
 144 Sargent St.. Holyoke, Mass. 
 
 
 Flynn, William J. I'vt 
 
 oil So. Bridge St.. Holyoke. Mass. 
 
 
 Fonst. William L. Pvt 
 
 127 Arlington St.. X. W.. Canton. Ohio. 
 
 
 Fry. Thomas H. Pvt 
 
 Atlas. Okla. 
 
 
 Fuller, Frederick C. Pvt 
 
 Cordaville, Mass. 
 
 
 Garner, George L. Pvt 
 
 Potosi, Wis. 
 
 
 (Jilmour, James Pvt 
 
 East Grand Forks. Minn. 
 
 
 Gleason, Joseph M. I'vt 
 
 476 Main St.. Poughkeepsie, X. Y. 
 
 
 Green, Fred S. Pvt 
 
 Butler. Yt. 
 
 
 Grieves, Edward I'vt 
 
 Big Timber. Montana. 
 
 
 Harbuck, Wiley E. Pvt 
 
 Floralla, Covington. Ala. 
 
 
 Hawley, Henry L. I'vt 
 
 Pelham Road. Amherst. Mass. 
 
 
 Hegerle, Joseph A. I'vt 
 
 423 S. 10th St.. Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 
 [109] 
 

 
 Hines, Clifford E. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 799 14th Ave.. Detroit. Mich. 
 
 
 Holmes. Albert P. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Greentown, Ohio. 
 
 
 Hornung, John J. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 305 West 146th St.. New York City. 
 
 
 Hyde, Joe R. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 
 
 Kane, Anthony M. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 1916 Perryville Ave., Pittsburgh. Pa. 
 
 
 Keller, Henry F. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 32 Western Ave., Elmhurst, N. Y. 
 
 
 Kidd, Warren H. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Columbus Grove. Putnam Co., Ohio. 
 
 
 Lafleur, Napoleon A. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Chapin Ave.. Chicopee, Mass. 
 
 
 Lebert, Euclid 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 139 Liberty St.. North Adams, Mass. 
 
 
 Lindgren, Edwin A. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Madrid. Iowa. 
 
 
 Lyon, Harold F. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 215 Flower Ave., East Watertown, N. Y. 
 
 
 McCarville, Joseph I'. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Cresco, Iowa. 
 
 
 Malanga, Salvatore 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 1039 2nd Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Manzo, Roceo 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 47 Perry St.. New York City. 
 
 
 Mara, Michael 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 538 Central Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Marion, Joseph F. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 157 9th Ave., Long Island City, N. Y. 
 
 
 Marsh, Charles N. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Cuba, N. Y. 
 
 
 Marshall, Thomas S. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Blasdell, N. Y. 
 
 
 Meyer. William A. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Moutrose, Colo. 
 
 
 Migl, Willie J. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Flatonia, Fayette Co., Texas. 
 
 
 Mills, John N. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Davis Port, Ky. 
 
 
 Nelson, Otto L. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Baronett, Wis. 
 
 
 Nestlen, William 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 4911 7th Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Nihan, Daniel J. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 734 Columbia Road, Boston, Mass. 
 
 
 Ott. Frederick A. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 231 North Henry St., New York City. 
 
 
 Panfil, John J. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Forks, Erie Co.. New York. 
 
 
 Petersen. Henry C. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Angola, N. Y. 
 
 
 Powers, Harold B. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Fall River, Mass. 
 
 
 Princippe, Giuseppe 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 236 York Ave., New Brighton. S. I. 
 
 
 Procopio, Francesco 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 40 Irving St., Winchester. Mass. 
 
 
 Reynolds, Leslie C. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Springtown, Texas. 
 
 
 Roddenberry, Andrew 
 
 L. Pvt. 
 
 Graham, Georgia. 
 
 
 Russell, William E. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Hecla St., Uxbridge, Mass. 
 
 
 Schwarz, Henry 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 32 Minerva St.. Tonowanda, N. Y. 
 
 
 Slauter, Robert T. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Clearwater, Fla. 
 
 
 Stueland, Joseph T. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Kanawha, Iowa. 
 
 
 Sullivan, Edward A. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 31 Chester St., Springfield, Mass. 
 
 
 Velle, Otto P. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Grant & Thomas Aves., Baldwin. N. Y. 
 
 
 Walters, Richard 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 1039 Walden Ave., Buffalo, N. Y.. c/o Greiner. 
 
 
 Weissberger, Morris 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 924 Prospect Ave., New York City. 
 
 
 Witteveen, Harry F. 
 
 \1. Pvt. 
 
 Idaho Falls, Idaho. 
 
 
 Wodkins, John 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Oneonta^ Ala. 
 
 
 Wooten, James 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Carthbert, Ga. 
 
 
 Zell, Albin H. 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Beardsley, Minn. 
 
 
 Zwettler, George 
 
 Pvt. 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 
 
 ROSTER OF MEN TRANSFERRED FROM 
 
 
 
 THE 
 
 BATTERY IN FRANCE 
 
 
 Name 
 
 
 Home Address 
 
 
 
 
 . 294 Georgia Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 
 Antola, Francesco . 
 
 
 . . . 3 Hamilton Place, New York City. 
 
 
 
 
 . . . Wolf Lake, Minnesota. 
 
 
 
 
 . Wells, Minn. 
 
 Buchmiller, Joseph W 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . . . 507 N. Ash St., Crookstou, Minn. 
 
 
 Carmody, William A. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 [110] 
 
Dawson, Norman 314 Webster St., Needham Heights, Mas 
 
 Dilley, Arthur W Sykes, Pa. 
 
 Frirt. Charles J 435 Fulton St.. St. Paul, Minn. 
 
 Ghelardi, Anthony F 
 
 Hawkins, Andrew A Raymond, Hines City, Miss. 
 
 Hutton, Benjamin 633 Lake St.. Lancaster, Pa. 
 
 Izmailowicz, Ignacy 27 Bristol St.. New Haven. Conn. 
 
 Janulewicz, John Ill Lymon St.. Holyoke, Mass. 
 
 Jewell. Joseph Wallingford, Vt. 
 
 Keifer. James Loma, Montana. 
 
 Kouw, John 612 West 184th St.. New York City. 
 
 Klesmer, Irving Zeeland, Mich. 
 
 Lanzarone, Ignatius 60 Jefferson St., Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 McCahill, George B 16 St. Marks Ave.. Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 Manderson, Raymond 403 West 21st St., New York City. 
 
 Maroney, Thomas 306 11th St.. Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Monaco. Guiseppe 411 West 42nd St.. New York City. 
 
 Peterson. Albion 200 Cambridge St.. Boston. Mass. 
 
 Radner, George N 14 Hay Ave.. Northampton. M;.ss. 
 
 Rubino, Donato 9 Alba St.. Fitchburg, Mass. 
 
 Shea, Thomas <; 133 Lawrence Ave.. Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 Sotio. Edward (J 550 Park Ave., New York City. 
 
 Soraci. Frank 422 3rd Ave.. New York City. 
 
 Taylor. Robert W 167 Irving Place. Brooklyn. N. Y. 
 
 Thacker, Horace 59 3rd Ave., Long Island City. 
 
 Thome. Finer 271 Wesley Ave.. Clinton, Iowa. 
 
 Wager. Robert West Lebanon. N. Y. 
 
 Ward, Robert S 705 Elmwood Ave.. Buffalo, N. Y. 
 
 ROSTER OF WOUNDED MEN WHO HII> NOT RETURN To BATTERY 
 
 Claviter, Arthur W 616 4th Ave.. International Falls. Minn 
 
 Johnson, Olaus R. F. D. No. 2, Madelia, Minn. 
 
 Koen, William H 254 Atlantic Ave., E. Rockaway, N. Y. 
 
 Meehan, John 70 Montgomery St.. New York City. 
 
 [Ill] 
 

 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. 
 
 Dedication 
 
 and Honor Roll 
 
 
 6-11 
 
 II. 
 
 Foreword 
 
 
 
 Capt. Robt. V. Mahon 
 
 12 
 
 III. 
 
 The Story 
 
 of 
 
 Battery D 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 1. 
 
 Camp Upton 
 
 Corp. Henry L. Miller 
 
 13-20 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 2_ 
 
 The Trip Across and 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Early Days in France 
 
 Corp. Joseph Glass . 
 
 21-26 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 3. 
 
 Training Period at Camp 
 de Souge . 
 
 
 27-31 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 4. 
 
 At the Front— The Bac- 
 carat Sector 
 
 
 32-35 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 5. 
 
 Vaxainville to the Nesle 
 Woods 
 
 
 36-40 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 C. 
 
 The Vesle Sector . 
 
 
 41-47 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 7. 
 
 Advancing to the Aisne 
 River 
 
 
 48-54 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 8. 
 
 Going into the Argonne 
 Forest 
 
 
 55-58 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 9. 
 
 The Argonne 
 
 
 59-67 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 10. 
 
 In Reserve 
 
 
 68-70 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 11. 
 
 Argonne — Meuse . 
 
 
 71-77 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 12. 
 
 Our Last Front 
 
 
 78-82 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 13. 
 
 Lignerolles 
 
 
 83-89 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 14. 
 
 The Le Mans Area and 
 Brest 
 
 
 90-94 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 15. 
 
 Homeward Bound 
 
 
 95-97 
 
 IV. 
 
 An Insight 
 
 Into a Driver's Life . 
 
 Pvt. Osmund O'Brien 
 
 98-101 
 
 V. 
 
 The Adventures of an Observer 
 
 Corp. Henry L. Miller 
 
 102-106 
 
 VI. 
 
 Roster of Battery I) . 
 
 
 107-111 
 
 [112] 
 
H 
 
 H 
 .•'*/<«