Class, 'X\ 6 46 Book B'h Gop}Tiglitl\"_ COF^lGHT deposit: WITH OUR SOLDIERS IN FRANCE ■t < t3 Of Q < W < u 1^ >^ \yiTH OUR SOLDIERS ^ IN FRANCE Sherwood Eddy Author of "Suffering and Ihe War," "The Students of Asia," etc. ASSOCIATION PRESS New York: 114 East i8th Stwit 1917 COPTBIGHT, 1917, BT The International Committee or Young RIen's Christian As30Ciation8 .♦. ; / *" NOV -15 1917 0^?!.A47g 089 *Vi.^ /- To M. H. E. AND THE Real Heroes of the War THE Mothers Who Have Given Their Sons AND the Wives Who Have Given Their Husbands CONTENTS CHAPTER PAOa Foreword ix I. At the Front 1 n. With General Pershing's Force in France 21 III. A Day in the "Bull Ring" 43 IV. With the British Army 57 V. Life in a Base Camp 87 VI. The Camp of the Prodigals Ill VII. Religion at the Front 127 VIII. The World at War 169 FOREWORD The world is at war. Already more than a score of uations, representing a population of over a thousand millions, or two-thirds of the entire human race, are engaged in a life-and- death struggle on the bloody battlefields of Europe, Asia, and Africa. No man can stand in the mouth of that volcano on a battle front, or meet the trains pouring in with their weary freight of wounded after a battle, or stand by the operating tables and the long rows of cots in the hospitals, or share in sympathy the hardship and suffering of the men who are fighting for us, and remain unmoved. The man must be dead of soul to whom the war does not present a mighty moral challenge. It arraigns our past manner of life and our ver}* civilization. It gives us a new angle of observation, a new point of view, a new test of values. It furnishes a possible moral judg- ment by which we can weigh our life in the balance and see where we have been found want- ing. These brief sketches are only fragmentary and have of necessity been hastily written. The writer has been asked to state his imjjression of the work among the men in France. lie did not go there to write but to work. He has tried simply ix X FOREWORD to state what he saw and to leave the reader to draw his own conclusions. A mere statement of the grim facts at the front, if they are not sugar- coated or glossed over, may not be pleasant read- ing, but it is unfair to those at home that they should not know the hard truth of the reality of things as they are. Before the war broke out, it was the writer's privilege to make an extended tour for work among students in Russia, Turkey, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece, and to visit Germany. Since the declaration of war, he has visited France, Italy, and Egypt, and has observed the effect of the war throughout Asia, in tours extending over nearly the whole of China and India. Last year he was in the British camps among the soldiers of England, Scotland, and Wales. Since Amer- ica declared war he has been working with the various divisions of the British and American armies in France, from the great base camps, where hundreds of thousands of men are in train- ing, up to the front with the men in the trenches. For the sake of those who will follow with deep interest the boys who are already in France, or who will shortly be there, brief accounts are given of the various phases of a soldier's life in the base camps, the training school of the "Bull Ring," at the front, and in the hospitals. AT THE FRONT CHAPTER I AT THE FRONT In the midst of our work at a base camp, there came a sudden call to go "up the line" to the great battle front. Leaving the railway, we took a motor and pressed on over the solidly paved roads of France, which are now pulsing arteries of trattic, crowded with trains of motor transports pouring in their steady stream of supplies for the men and munitions for the guns. Now we turn out for the rumbling tank-like caterpillai'S, which slowly ci-eep forward, drawing the big guns up to the front ; then we pass a light field-battery. Next comes a battalion of Tommies swinging down the road, loaded like Christmas trees with their cumbrous kits, sweating, singing, whistling, as they march by with dogged cheer toward the trenches. We have crossed the Somme with its memories of blood, on across northei*n France, and now we have passed the Belgian frontier and are in the historic fields of Flanders, where the creaking windmills are still grinding the peasants' corn, and the little church s})ires stand guard over the sleeping villages. A turn of the road brings us close within sound of the guns, which by night are heard far across France and along the coasts of 3 4 WITH OUK SOLDIERS IN FRANCE England. Soon we enter villages, which lie within range of the enemy's ''heavies," with their shat- tered window glass, torn roofs, ruined houses, tottering churches, and deep shell holes in the streets. Now we are in the danger zone and have to put on our shrapnel-proof steel helmets, and box respirators, to be ready for a possible attack of poison gas. Another turn in the road, and the great battle field rises in grim reality before us. Far to the left stands the terrible Ypres salient, so long swept by the tide of war, and away to the right are the blasted woods of "Plug Street." Right before us rises the historic ridge of Messines, won at such cost during the summer. We are stand- ing now at the foot of the low ridge where the British trenches were so long held under the merciless fire of the enemy. From here to the top of the ridge the ground has been fought over, inch by inch and foot by foot. It is blasted and blackened, deep seamed by shot and shell. The trees stand on the bare ridge, stiff and stark, charred and leafless, like lonely sentinels of the dead. The ground, without a blade of grass left, is torn and tossed as by earthquake and volcano. Trenches have been blown into shapeless heaps of debris. Deep shell holes and mine craters mark the advance of death. Small villages are left without one stone or brick upon another, mere formless heaps, ground almost to dust. Deserted in wild confusion, half buried in the churned mud, AT THE FRONT 5 on eveiy hand are heaps of unused aminunitiou, bombs, {xas shells, and inl'ei'nal machines wrecked or hurriedly left iu the enemy's llight. Ilere on June 7th, at three o'clock in the morn- iug, following the heavy bombardment which had been going on for days, the great attack began. In one division alone the heavy guns had fired 40,000 shells and the field artillery 180,000 more. The sound of the tiring was heard across France, throughout Belgium and Holland, and over the Surrey downs of England, 130 miles away. The Messines ridge is a long, low hill, only about 300 feet iu height, but it commands the countryside for miles around, and had become the heavily fortified barrier to bar the Allied advance between Ypres and Armentiers. Since December, 11)14, the Germans had seamed the western slopes with trenches, a network of tunnels ^tind of con- crete redoubts. Behind the ridge lay the German batteries. For months this ridge had been mined and countermined by both sides, until the English had placed 500 tons of high explosive, that is approximately 1,000,000 pounds of ammiuol, be- neath nineteen strategic points which were to be taken. At the foot of the ridge, along a front of nine miles, the British had concentrated their batterie.s, heavy gun.s, and vast supplies of ammunition. Day and night for a week before the battle began, the German positions had bcM?n shelled. At times the hurricane of fire died down, but it never 6 WITH OUR SOLDIERS IN FRANCE ceased. By day and by night the German trenches were raided and explored. A large fleet of tanks was ready for the advance. Hundreds of aviators cleared the air and dropped bombs upon the enemy, assailing his ammunition dumps, aero- dromes, and bases of supplies. The battle had to be fought simultaneously by all the forces on the land, in the air, and in the mines underground. All the horrors of the cyclone and the earthquake were harnessed for the conflict. In the early morning, a short, deathly silence followed the week's terrific bombardment. At 2:50 a. m. the ground opened from beneath, as nineteen great mines were exploded one by one, and fountains of fire and earth like huge vol- canoes leaped into the air. Hill 60, which had dealt such deadly damage to the British, was rent asunder and collapsed. It was probably the greatest explosion man ever heard on earth up to that time. Then the guns began anew to pre- pare for the attack and a carefully planned bar- rage dropped just in front of the English bat- talions as they advanced. As the men came for- ward, the barrage was lifted step by step and dropped just ahead of them, to pulverize the enemy and protect the British troops. By five o'clock Messines itself was captured by the fear- less Australians. There was a most desperate struggle just here where we were standing at Wytschaete. All morning the battle raged along this line, but by midday it was in the hands of AT THE FRONT 7 the dashing Irish division. Seven thousand pris- oners were taken, while the British casualties, owing to the effective protection of their terrific barrage, were far less than the German and only one-fifth of what they had calculated as necessary to take this strategic position. We make our way up to the crest of the Mes- sines ridge where we can look back on the con- quered territory and forward to the new lines. The great guns are in action all about us. They are again wearing down the enemy in preparation for the next advance. For the moment we feel only the grand and awful throb of vast titanic forces in terrible conflict. Day and night, in the air, on the earth, and beneath it, the war is slowly or swiftly being waged. The fire of battle smol- ders or leaps into flames or vast explosions, but never goes out. Above us the very air is full of conflict. Hang- ing several hundred feet high are half a dozen huge fixed kite-balloons, with their occupants busily observing, sketching, mapping, or report- ing the enemj^'s movements. Each of these is a target for the attacking aeroplanes and the occu- pants must be ready, at a moment's notice, to leap into a parachute when they are shot down. High above these balloons a score of British planes are darting about or dashing over the enemy's lines, acting as the eyes of the huge guns hidden away behind us. We are looking at one far up seem- 8 WITH OUR SOLDIERS IN FRANCE ingly soaring in peace like a graceful bird poised in the air, when suddenly we see it surrounded by a dozen little white patches of smoke which show that it has come within range of the enemy's anti- aircraft guns and the clouds of shrapnel are burst- ing about it. Most of them break wide of the mark and it sails on unscathed over the enemy's lines. Just above us is hanging a German tauhe, obviously watching us and the automobile which we had left below in the road, while the British huge anti-aircraft guns near by are feeling for it, shot after shot. We duck into our little Y M C A dugout, just under the crest of the ridge. It is an old, deserted German pit for deadly gas shells, which even now are lying about uncomfortably near, in heaps still unexploded. Here the men going to and from the trenches, come in for hot tea or coffee and re- freshments night and day. A significant sign forbids more than thirty men to congregate at once in this exposed spot, as sometimes these Y M C A dugouts are blown to atoms by a shell. The one down below in 'Tlug Street" has been blown to bits, and the man in the one just up the line has been under such fire for several days that he will have to abandon his dugout. Just in front of us over the ridge is the first line of the present British front. There is no time to build trenches now or to dig themselves in. They just hold the broken line of unconnected shell holes, or swarm in the great craters which AT THE FRONT 9 are held by rapid fire machine guns. The men go out bj night to relieve those who have been holding the ground during the previous day. It is harder for the enemy's artillery to locate and destroy men scattered in these irregular holes and craters than if they were in a clear line of trenches. Tlic British front faces down the slope toward the bristling German lines, dotted with hidden snipei*s and studded with sputtering machine gims. As the evening falls the batteries behind and all about us open fire. Flash after flash of spurting flame leaps out from the great guns. Boom upon boom, deep voiced and varied, follows from the many calibred guns in the dark- ness, till the night is lurid and the ground be- neath us quivers with the earthquake of bombard- ment. High above we hear the piercing shriek of the shells speeding to their fatal mark, and below the crash of the exploding shells of the enemy, which toss the earth in dark waves into the air in the black surf of war. Gun after gun now joins the great chorus, swelling and falling in a hideous symphony of discordant sounds. The whole horizon is lit up and aflame. The sky quivers and reflects the flash of the great guns, as with the constant vibration of heat lightning. Flares and Verey lights of greenish yellow and white turn the night into ghastly day, and like the lurid flames of an inferno light up the battle- field, while the rifles crackle in the glare. Here a 10 WITH OUR SOLDIERS IN FRANCE parachute-light like a great star hangs suspended almost motionless above us, lighting up the whole battlefield, and now a burning farmhouse or ex- ploding ammunition dump illuminates the sky as from some vast subterranean furnace flung open upon the heavens. All the long sullen night the earth is rocked by slow intermittent rumbling, till with the silent dawn the birds wake and the war-giants sink for a few hours in troubled sleep. Then the new day breaks and the war-planes climb in the clear morning air to begin the battle afresh. But let us turn from the hard-won ground of Messines to some of the men who fought over it and survived. Here is a young American, Fred R , a graduate of Johns Hopkins, who fought in this battle with the Canadians, and who told us in his own words the story of those brief hours. "Our opening barrage lasted about twenty minutes, but in that short time some two million shells were dropped on the enemy from about nine thousand of our guns. We could hear no distinct reports, just one steady roar of continuous ex- plosion. The ground shook beneath us and frag- ments from the trenches and dugouts caved in about us from the shock. The air was oppressive and you felt difficulty in breathing, as if you were in a vacuum. About three o'clock in the morning the order came to 'Stand to!' and shortly after the word rang out 'Up and over! Over the top boys, and the best of luck !' With one foot on the fire step we climbed out of the deep trench and with our AT THE FRONT 11 rifles we started forward at a walk, behind our advaiu'iiif; banaf^e. I was tense now an his wounds and carrier! him on my back to the nearest dressing station. 'Fred,' he said, 'would you mind kissing me just once? So long!' and with that he was gone. Then T got mad and began to see red. In the first trench I ran amuck and with rifle, bayonet, and bombs I suppose I accounted for twenty men in the hour that fol- lowed. I've been gassed three times, twice with the old gas and once with the new, and I've had my .share. Would I like to go home now? Say, I'd rather be a lamp-post at the foot of Michigan Boulevard in Chicago than the whole electric light system in all the rest of the universe!" We turned from this young American to Sapper W , of Western Canada, who had just been through the same battle underground, and asked him to tell us his own story. "Well, sir, long before the battle we were dig- ging under Ilill Number GO. A chance shell ex- ploded on the surface above us and buried us all underground. Three of us were killeti and the other two left alive. I had one man across my chest and another across my legs, one dead and the other wounded. We could not move hand 12 WITH OUE SOLDIERS IN FRANCE or foot. We were buried in there for seven hours and they finally dug us out unconscious. Then we started another sap to lay a mine. My pal was listening, with an iron rod driven in the ground and two copper wires leading from it to a head piece, such as a wireless operator uses, so that we could hear the approach of the enemy's sappers, who were countermining against us. My pal asked me to come and listen. But I had hardly got the headpiece on when I said, 'O Lord, they're on us !' and before I could get fie thing off my ears the end of our sap fell through and the Germans were at us. There was only room to use revolvers and bayonets in that dark hole and the Germans seemed to get nervous and could not shoot straight in the panic. We lost only one of our men, but we killed seven and took the rest of the twenty prisoners. Then, be- fore they found out what had happened, we crawled through to the German end of the tunnel and blew up their sap. You say was I a Christian? Not me! I was wild and going to the devil. But one night I was wounded and lay in a deserted shell hole, shot through the thigh, and unable to move for fifteen hours. I was feeling for a cigarette in my pocket to ease the pain a bit, but all I could find was a little pocket testament which someone had given me, but which I had never read. I managed to get it out and, thinking it might be my last hour, and that I might never be found, I started to read to try and forget my wound. I read the twenty- seventh chapter of Matthew, and sir, that little book changed my life. I have read a chapter every day since then. I was picked up by the infantry and carried to a hospital. One night when I could not sleep for the pain, the nurse AT THE FRONT 13 asked nic if slic cduld do anytliiiij^ for ine, and I asked her lo read tlu; Hihie fo nic She said she had never read it in her life, and I said it was about time she bej^an, if that was so. After she read it, slie said it helped her too. Yes, I say my prayers on my knees in the tent now. Another boy has joined me this week; and the lanfjna^e in the tent is gettiiif; better. I'm otT to the front tomorrow to take my tui-n ajjain. But I'm no longer alone up there in the trenches. It's dif- ferent now." We have heard the story of one in the infantry and of a sapper underground. Here is the ex- perience of a young Canadian student from Mc- Gill University in the artillery: "The past weeks have been ten thousand hells. It is nothing but death, noise, blood, and mud. There are only two of our sergeants left now and we have to keep up our spirits. You often feel as if your brain would burst. I couldn't begin to describe the inferno human beings pass through every day. 'Happy' was shot to pieces with a shell a few nights ago while in bed, both arms and one leg otf. I carried him for over four hours to the nearest dressing station and then stayed and watched him die. He never whimpered. Though in terrible agony, he died game, as he always was. That is about the hard- est knock I have ever had in my life. He is only one of my many friends that have gone. Believe me, war is Hell.'' Here is the account of a simple Australian boy in the front trench : "Fritz had a machine gun to nearly every ten 14 WITH OUR SOLDIERS IN FRANCE yards. I don't know what became of my friends Hugh and Bill. They were just beside me, but when I looked around both were gone. A shell landed just at the side of me, and I think Hugh and Bill were blown to pieces. I got my wound in the chest and the fragment came out through my back. I thought my last day had come. I dropped into a hole, and no sooner had I got in, than Mack got it through the face. He was able to go back, but I was simply helpless, as my legs refused to move. Anyhow, I pulled the shovel off my back and dug a little ridge in the side of the trench. No sooner had I done this than Fritz started to bombard. One shell fell in the hole in which I was, but exploded in the opposite direction. Then another came and landed just above my head, but it failed to go off. Had it gone off I never would have been here now. I had prayed hard to my God to deliver me from my enemies and when those things happened I felt my prayer was heard and that I was going to come through. I was there in that hole all day and the next night before anyone came near me. At last one of the 19th Battalion chaps came along and went for a stretcher for me." Such are the varying impressions which a battle makes upon various men. It is no romance, but a grim reality of life and death. Far into the night we lie awake and ask ourselves, what is the meaning of it all? At first on the field of battle one thrills at the sound of mighty and unearthly forces loosed, but in the din we suddenly realize that boys are dying all about us, and that these guns bear swift AT THE FRONT 16 death aii