t^^ 
 
 
 
 DDDD43t,247D 
 
 
 CARTER 
 
 PLANT 
 
THE TALE OF A 
 DEVIL DOG 
 
 By 
 
 WILLIAM A. CARTER 
 
 * • 
 
 One of Them 
 Developed by 
 
 PASCAL J. PLANT 
 
 Published by 
 
 THE CANTEEN PRESS 
 
 2905 Georgia Avenue, N. W. 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
*'t. 
 
 Copyright 1920, by 
 PLANT AND CARTER 
 
 NOV 15 1920 
 0)CI.A604140 
 
 ^'V 
 
o 
 
 $ ^ ^ 
 
^ - 
 
 r 
 
 1 -1^ 
 
 ll ? ' :• 
 ' 1 
 
 '#1 I ||v 
 
 ^ -a 
 
 I iJl o jili 
 
 t 'I, 
 
 ?- ■ 
 
 
PREFACE 
 
 EGINNING with the days of 
 peace, prior to the Great 
 World War, we attempt to de- 
 scribe the life of a Marine 
 "rookie" in "boot camp" and 
 the process of training that re- 
 sults in the making of a man. 
 Then, in a cruise to the Tropics to 
 where news of America's entry 
 into the World War is flashed to 
 the fleet, we lead on to the days of practice and 
 action, cover concisely every offensive and defensive 
 the Marines engaged in, enumerate many unusual 
 and interesting incidents that occurred "over there," 
 return home, and, once again take up the pursuits of 
 peace. Our purpose is, pritnarily, to interest and en- 
 tertain you with deeds not burdened with dates and 
 places. In fact, no attempt is made to write a 
 complete history of those terrible days and all that 
 the Marines did during them. 
 
 What follows is what one pair of eyes observed. 
 A brigade can spread over a wide area and it is 
 obvious that no private in any unit could be every- 
 where at the same time in any area ; hence no apol- 
 ogy is made for omissions. 
 
 Reviews by qualified critics concede "The Tale of a 
 Devil Dog" to be a worthy contribution to the record 
 of the Marine Corps and we are glad to have collabo- 
 rated in its production. 
 
 William A. Carter, 
 Pascal J. Plant, 
 
 Authors. 
 7 
 
CHAPTER I 
 The Making of a Man 
 
 VERY man can recall how as a 
 kid he and his buddies specu- 
 lated upon their future. Scores 
 of my playmates declared that 
 the height of their ambition was to 
 become a policeman, others had 
 dreams of renown as the world's 
 champion pugilist, some were em- 
 bryo lion tamers, while a few cast 
 their horoscopes as mechanics, doctors, lawyers and 
 statesmen ; but I was imbued with the desire to be- 
 come a chauffeur. There was an undercurrent of 
 wanderlust in my veins and I always had a hunch 
 that I would see more of the world than the few 
 square miles that comprised the area of my home 
 town, Springfield, Missouri, not far from Kansas 
 City. The lure of travel never tempted me to ven- 
 ture forth in a box car. I was not a fastidious 
 youth, I merely had a fixed idea that the proper way 
 to see the great U. S. A. was by auto, and I pro- 
 ceeded to learn all I could about all kinds of cars. 
 
 I was now in my twentieth year, vigorous, hearty, 
 robust and contented with my employment in the 
 local railroad shops. At this time, which was in the 
 summer of 1916, the United States Marine Corps 
 opened a recruiting station in the main street of my 
 
home town. The posters on display, the wonderful 
 views of the world exhibited, and the slick sergeant 
 on duty, all awakened my dormant desire to see 
 something of God's universe. I felt myself going — 
 going — gone, and just naturally enlisted. Then fol- 
 lowed a preliminary examination, an educational test 
 in writing and spelling, and a physical test in sight,, 
 color, hearing, teeth, throat and heart. I was put 
 through various stunts to discover broken, fractured 
 or deformed bones; and having no fingers missing, 
 no flat feet, my weight being in proportion to my 
 height, I was passed, subject to a final examination 
 later. I was shipped to the Recruit Depot at Parris 
 Island, South Carolina, where I entered the "Boot 
 Camp," a boob of a rookie, with others, and took the 
 final degrees in the making of a man. 
 
 We were first put in the detention camp, as we had 
 not been fully accepted. A chart of identification 
 was made of each man, showing in detail every scar 
 and birthmark. Prints were made of our hands, 
 entire, and of each individual finger. Another phys- 
 ical examination followed, which was the final test 
 for fitness, and then came inoculation and vaccina- 
 tion,, with their resultant temporary langour, which 
 made us immune to typhoid and smallpox. 
 
 The average near-man is a night-bird and natur- 
 ally the feathers of some drooped the first night in 
 "Boot Camp" when we were disciplined to go to 
 roost at taps. Reveille also gave us a jolt the first 
 
 10 
 
morning, and making up a cot was a domestic stunt 
 never performed before by many "a Son of Rest" in 
 the bunch. There was a brief period of reaction 
 when all of us seemed to miss something, or some- 
 body—home, the best girl, friends, or favorite 
 eats;— but no one admitted it. Singing, playing 
 cards, checkers, pool or billiards, boxing, reading and 
 writing relieved the tension and we, who had passed, 
 were anxiously waiting to get into our uniforms. 
 
 Standing, eventually, before the Commanding Of- 
 ficer in his office, we were sworn in when each man 
 took an oath to render faithful service to the Gov- 
 ernment of the United States for four years, not to 
 desert, and not to betray his country in any way. 
 We were then full-fledged Marines— "Goodbye Cits ! 
 So-long collars! Farewell neckwear! Oh, you Khaki! 
 Ah, there,, Field Hat ! It was a happy bunch, cast at 
 last in the role they longed to fill. Peacock Alley 
 pales in comparison, for there was pride and patriot- 
 ism in every strut of these newly acquired nephews 
 of Uncle Sam, and the rakish slant of every field hat 
 was typical of a Yank. 
 
 Mothers, sisters, sweethearts and many a pal back 
 home would have laughed at and guyed us if they 
 could have seen our washlady act a few days later, 
 as we laundered our khakies and underalls. It was 
 another degree in the science of domestic art being 
 acquired by us, and there was not a grouch in 
 evidence. 
 
 11 
 
For days now we were put through foot drills, 
 being taught to keep step with each other in squad 
 movement, to the music of a much "be-hash-marked" 
 drill-sergeant's voice. If you made a bull and the 
 eagle-eyed sergeant saw it, you were balled out good 
 and proper, and if repeated, you were made to run 
 around the parade grounds a few times. After the 
 foot drills were gotten down pat we took our place in 
 a sunset parade — retreat — but having no rifles, we 
 fell in behind the older companies. 
 
 It was not long, however, after a series of skirm- 
 ish drills, that rifles were issued to us, and, believe 
 me, no Christmas stocking with a pop-gun sticking 
 out of it ever made a kid feel happier than we 
 rookies when the new shiny Springfield rifles, bay- 
 onets and all, were handed to us. Now that "John- 
 nie got his gun" the Manual of Arms had to be 
 learned. Some of us were so clumsy in handling our 
 guns that it was not infrequent to knock another 
 fellow's hat off, and at the command "Order,, Arms !" 
 to drop what seemed a ton weight upon our own feet 
 instead of landing the rifles on the ground. More 
 necessary and well-merited balling-out, but by this 
 time our hides had hardened a little and it didn't 
 seem like a death sentence. 
 
 Target practice was the next degree. Standing, 
 kneeling, squatting and prone are the positions, and 
 you may assume a poise in any of these positions 
 most comfortable to yourself. While in the position 
 
 12 
 
ordered we practiced "snapping in," which was 
 merely an imaginary firing at an imaginary target, 
 the rifle being empty. The real thing is always best, 
 and at last, after a few weeks of practice firing with 
 real ammunition at real targets, the day came when 
 we fired record practice. 
 
 The classifications are marksman, sharpshooter 
 and expert. The word "record" aroused our mettle. 
 Will you disqualify and be demoted from a buck 
 private to a grease ball, kitchen police, or messman? 
 "No," said I. "Bang!" "Siz!" Up showed the 
 white disc! Score five— "A bull's eye" said I to my- 
 self. "Private Carter, first shot for record— 5!" 
 cried out the scorekeeper. Shot after shot at differ- 
 ent targets, at different ranges and distances fly 
 through the air. If you qualify as marksman you 
 are rewarded with $2.00 per month extra ; as sharp- 
 shooter with $3.00, and as expert with $5.00, in 
 addition to getting a medal to wear certifying your 
 qualification. 
 
 Fourteen weeks, varied in their daily routine, had 
 developed muscle, appetite, strength and manliness, 
 and had taken the conceit out of all. The favorite 
 calls were "Mess" and "Pay." The latter was 
 sounded only once a month in the "Boot Camp," but 
 when first heard was never forgotten. Exhibition 
 drills were given to prove that we were qualified for 
 duty and after being on post many times we learned 
 the importance and felt the responsibility of guard- 
 ing the lives of men and Government property. 
 
 13 
 
Selection for detail was now made, and bunkies 
 were separated, some were sent to land stations, 
 some to the Tropics,, and others to battleships and 
 cruisers. It was my good fortune to be detailed, 
 among others to the U. S. S. Florida, and I became 
 a "Soldier of the Sea," with only a $13,000,000 ship 
 for a home ! 
 
 We joined her at Norfolk, Va. Our quarters were 
 amid-ship, on the gun deck, and it was not many 
 hours after reporting, clean and sober, that we had 
 roamed all over her, from double bottoms to the tops 
 of the cage masts. The first real novel experience 
 we had aboard ship was to sleep in a hammock with- 
 out rolling out ; but there were other things to learn, 
 both exciting and interesting, consisting of rope tie- 
 ing, manning the guns, passing ammunition, loading 
 and firing. We also learned before long that "Turn 
 To" in ship language was a simple English expression 
 with a meaning all its own. They were welcome 
 words because the toil they brought in coaling ship 
 and taking on stores, when every man in the crew 
 did his bit,, compensated for a cruise or a run some- 
 where, and we all had the "bull-fidgets" to be on 
 the go. 
 
 14 
 
CHAPTER II 
 A Run to the Tropics 
 
 HE day came to get under way. 
 We were bound for the South- 
 ern Drill Grounds, off the Vir- 
 ginia Capes, where we — still 
 rookies, unbalanced in step and 
 stomach, while the ship rolled — 
 were to have target practice with 
 five and twelve-inch guns. 
 
 Positions were assigned to us in 
 a five-inch gun crew, which comprised a gun 
 captain, who is generally a non-commissioned of- 
 ficer, a sight setter, pointer, trainer, tray man, 
 three shellmen and three powdermen. Both in 
 target practice and real battle orders are re- 
 ceived from the fire control through speaking tubes 
 by the sight setter, who immediately passes them on 
 to the gun captain to be carried out. The gun cap- 
 tain's position is at the breech-block. He opens the 
 chamber of the gun for loading and places a primer 
 in the firing lock. At the same time there is also 
 being performed by the rest of the crew splendid 
 and quick action in loading the gun. The trayman 
 places the tray in the breech of the gun to protect 
 the threads of the screw box. The shell is passed 
 by the third shellman to the second and by him to the 
 first shellman, who heaves it into the breech of the 
 gun. A bag of powder is taken from the powder can 
 
 15 
 
by the third powderman and passed by him to the 
 second, who passes it to the first powderman, each 
 one handling it quickly and carefully, to prevent 
 tearing its silken mesh. The first powderman places 
 the bag of powder behind the shell previously placed 
 in the gun, the trayman removes the tray, the gun 
 captain closes the breech and calls out ''Ready-One." 
 During the process of loading the gun the pointer 
 and trainer are bearing on the object to be fired at. 
 The distance and direction have been placed on the 
 range and scale discs by the sight-setter, who has 
 received orders down the voice tube from the control 
 officer. The pointer then knows the gun is ready to 
 be fired. When the cross hairs register on the ob- 
 ject to be fired at, the pointer presses a key directly 
 under his right thumb, which electrically detonates 
 the primer in the breech of the gun. A spark from 
 the primer passes into the powder, which, burning, 
 forces the shell out, causing a terrific explosion and 
 a heavy jar. The recoil of the gun is about eighteen 
 inches and as it slides back automatically into bat- 
 tery the first shot is completed, which, from start to 
 finish is accomplished in approximately ten seconds, 
 three of which are consumed in the actual firing of 
 it. This process is repeated for each successive shot. 
 The only difference between firing five-inch shells 
 and those above twelve inches is that a trolley is 
 employed for the emplacement of the larger shells, 
 which weigh upwards of 1400 pounds. The powder 
 bags are also passed mechanically by means of cars 
 
 16 
 
to hoist them from the handling room to the gun 
 turret above, and, because of the great difference in 
 the weight of shells and the number of bags of pow- 
 der used in firing the large guns, about one minute 
 and a half is required to complete a shot. 
 
 After target practice at the Southern Drill 
 Grounds, with several days of maneuvering at sea 
 playing war games, we returned to Hampton Roads, 
 Virginia, and every one was glad to get shore leave. 
 Then came the two great holidays. Thanksgiving and 
 Christmas, when one's thoughts naturally turned 
 to home. Thanksgiving was spent at sea. A spe- 
 cial menu was served — turkey 'n' everything, and 
 we all felt like millionaires for a day. Christmas 
 was spent at Norfolk, Virginia, aboard ship, docked 
 at the Navy Yard. The dinner was great, the real 
 spirit of Christmas was in the air and the ship's 
 mail orderly gladdened many a heart as he unloaded 
 his sack with packages from home and friends. Not 
 only was there a Christmas tree, holly, and ever- 
 greens festooned, but a miniature reproduction of 
 the ship made of delicious cake, about six feet long 
 and weighing two hundred pounds. This was saved 
 until New Year's Day, when, amid festivity, every 
 crumb of it was devoured. 
 
 Next came a period of hustle and bustle. The 
 ship was now in dry dock, her bottom being scraped 
 and painted, and we were taking on stores for a run 
 to the Tropics with the Atlantic Fleet. War games 
 
 17 
 
were indulged in enroute for about twelve days, 
 when each of us had experience in standing watch 
 at sea. It was also the first time for many of us to 
 see, under natural conditions, such creatures of the 
 deep as sharks, whales and flying fish and always 
 the sea-gulls followed in our wake. At night we 
 would sit in groups in the stern of the ship and gaze 
 out into the endless black distance, thinking a thou- 
 sand things. Faces of friends and loved ones would 
 seem to appear and pass on into space as the ship 
 rolled along, the silence being disturbed only by the 
 rumble and pounding of the engine and the rushing 
 of water as the propellers churned the waves. 
 
 At last land came in sight. It was Santo Do- 
 mingo, and fast upon the beach, imbedded in the 
 sand and rocks was the U. S. S. San Diego, which 
 was carried there a few days previous by the fury 
 of a hurricane. The sun was setting over the island, 
 making a tropical memory-picture never to be for- 
 gotten. Morning found us nearing the shores of 
 Culebra, which we approached by way of a small 
 bay, it being impossible for the entire fleet to enter 
 at the same time. After dropping anchor about 
 noon, recreation was granted until sundown, and if 
 ever humans acted like wild colts, the crews of this 
 great fleet surely did, as they scampered up the sur- 
 rounding hills to get a bird's eye view of the fleet, 
 harbor and city. It was a relief from the long time 
 spent aboard ship. 
 
 18 
 
We encountered the natives, most of whom were 
 Spanish-Negroes unable to speak English or to 
 understand us. Their dress v/as somewhat scant 
 and groups could be seen around water holes close 
 to the shore, at what appeared to be a community 
 washing fest. They thrust their abbreviated ward- 
 robes into these water holes all together and with- 
 out any confusion succeeded in getting back their 
 individual pieces. Further into the town and along 
 the roads we met natives selling bananas, oranges, 
 cocoanuts, curios and souvenirs of all kinds. We 
 bought liberally and upon paying for our first pur- 
 chase with American money we were given Haitian 
 money in change. The joke of it all was that the 
 natives would not accept their own money again in 
 payment for another purchase. American money 
 was like gold to them, having five times the value of 
 their own coin, and many of us came back with a 
 hat full of their specie which we sold for junk. 
 
 The houses were built of stone and scantily fur- 
 nished. Cafes were barren of fixtures and so defi- 
 cient in stock that a platoon of hungry Marines 
 easily consumed everything any proprietor had on 
 hand. The small market place was a surprise to all 
 of us. Camped on an open lot were natives vend- 
 ing fruit and vegetables, decidedly over-ripe, tobacco 
 and cigarettes strong enough to intoxicate, meat 
 that was — well, let's forget it. 
 
 Evening came and recreation was ended. Sixty 
 
 19 
 
men at a time were loaded in "kickers" (liberty party- 
 boats ) and carried back to their ships, all happy, 
 singing and swapping experiences with shipmates, 
 as the sun went down in grandeur below the distant 
 hills. On the following morning the boatswain's 
 mate passed word to "Rig Ship for Seas!", later 
 came word "Lay Forward All the Chain Cheers!" 
 when, at the blast of a bugle, the anchors rose and 
 we were off again. 
 
 After thirty hours we made Port-au-Prince, Haiti, 
 and all that we saw and did at Culebra was nothing 
 compared with our experiences here. Washing 
 holes, a larger market place and costumes equally 
 as scant presented similar aspects. 
 
 A typical and amusing sight consisted of donkeys 
 with loads of hay tied on their backs, covering them 
 entirely, upon which were perched husky native men, 
 while females, evidently their wives, trudged along 
 the hot roads leading the animals. 
 
 It was a festive occasion. The town was in gala 
 attire, for the President of Haiti was to review his 
 troops. They equalled about a spuadron of cavalry, 
 were crack-drilled and gave a splendid account of 
 themselves. The natives were out en masse to view 
 the parade, and there were many character studies 
 among them. Notably was one, a man all dolled up 
 in a white crash suit which he evidently had been 
 wearing on such occasions from his boyhood days. 
 The trousers of his suit reached a bit below his knees 
 
 20 
 
and lacked about two inches in encompassing his 
 waist ; the waist line of the coat was a bit below his 
 shoulder blades, the sleeves a trifle below his elbows, 
 strings were employed on the front of the coat in an 
 attempt to make both ends meet, and a flat-top 
 broad-brimmed hat was his crowning piece. 
 
 Our desire for travel and appetite for experience 
 was being satisfied by these new and strange scenes 
 but they gave way soon to the continuance of target 
 practice, which was resumed upon our reaching 
 Guantanamo. Here is located the Navy^s famous 
 rifle range which is maintained for the practice of 
 the annual expeditionary crews. 
 
 The only relaxation during the days we spent in 
 practice here was a daily swim in the bay, which, 
 however, was compulsory, because each man must 
 qualify annually as a swimmer. In order to do so 
 one must dive off the forward boom, swim to the 
 stem of the ship and return to the gangway, when 
 your name is checked off. One of our crew, a husky 
 six-footer, weighing about 180 pounds, a windy 
 grand-stander, ventured out to the end of the boom. 
 As he looked upon the rough briny water his nerve 
 and bravado left him. No doubt if a mermaid had 
 come to the surface and cried out "Come in, the 
 water is fine," he, like any other mere man, would 
 have taken a chance. ''Yellow ! Jump, you coward !" 
 cried some of the boys lined along the rail. Others 
 sang: 
 
 21 
 
''Mother, may I go out to swim? 
 
 Yes, my darling daughter. 
 Hang your clothes on a hickory limb 
 
 But don't go near the water." 
 
 while a naval officer stood at the inboard end to the 
 boom determined that the simp should not come 
 back ; and he didn't. There he remained, broiling in 
 the sun, for over four hours, standing to *'Atten- 
 tion" while ''Colors" was sounded, after which he 
 was permitted to come aft. 
 
 From Guantanamo Bay we went to Guacanayabo 
 Oulf for target practice with big guns and torpedoes. 
 When not actually conducting target practice, we 
 formed whaleboat crews and went among the many 
 islands in the Gulf, which vary in size and elevation. 
 The water was so clear that we could see to a depth 
 of about twenty feet, and we waded in near the 
 shore of the larger islands, reaching below for star- 
 fish, coral and other visible interesting aquatic things 
 for souvenirs. 
 
 We had grown rusty as to the up-to-the-minute 
 news of the world, because all papers were several 
 days old when they reached us. We knew, however, 
 that our wireless had picked up several distress sig- 
 nals from sinking tramp steamers that had been 
 submarined by German U-boats in the Carribean 
 Sea, and we knew, also, that war clouds hung over 
 us and were apt to burst at any time. Every man 
 was on the alert and continuous watches were kept 
 
 22 
 
on the guns, ready for instant action against any at- 
 tack that might occur. At last, at 1:13 A. M. April 
 6, 1917, our wireless picked up the message that 
 America had entered the war, and every mother's 
 son in the fleet was eager for action. "Rig Ship for 
 Seas !" was the word passed within a few hours, and 
 the following day found us back again at Guan- 
 tanamo Bay, Cuba. 
 
 23 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Put Across 
 
 HE fleet numbered about one 
 hundred ships, and as an imme- 
 diate precaution against Ger- 
 man submarine attacks, tremen- 
 dous nets, fastened to rafts, were 
 dropped across the mouth of the 
 Bay, while torpedo boats and other 
 small craft kept a constant patrol 
 beyond. 
 Two days later we were steaming towards the 
 States, averaging fifteen knots an hour by day and 
 thirteen by night. Guns were manned by full crews 
 and a wide-awake lookout was maintained contin- 
 ually in the tops of military masts. 
 
 Hampton Roads, Virginia, was our destination and 
 upon arriving there we found America's great war 
 machine ready for action. Discipline became rigid. 
 Orders were issued cautioning us to guard our speech 
 lest we should give information of value to spies, 
 lectures were given at frequent intervals illustrating 
 how one might innocently betray his country, and 
 a strict censorship was established over all our cor- 
 respondence, to prevent any possible leak of our 
 plans. 
 
 Three days later we were part of a great line of 
 defense established at the mouth of York River. 
 
 25 
 
Intense training on shore was now essential and a 
 portion of every Marine detachment in the fleet was 
 ordered to Quantico, Virginia, to be seasoned for 
 overseas duty with the Fifth and Sixth Regiments 
 of the U. S. Marines. 
 
 Much that we had previously learned had to be 
 forgotten for we were now to be drilled as a unit of 
 the Army. Advance training, which was most in- 
 tensive, was given us in land maneuvering, hiking, 
 and trench digging to approximate as nearly as prac- 
 ticable the real service which we would have in tho 
 American Expeditionary Forces in France. 
 
 Our officers engaged in this work showed great 
 ingenuity and efficiency and we were all eager for 
 the day to come when we would meet the enemy in 
 combat. 
 
 There was no greater incentive to patriotism than 
 our frequent trips from Quantico, Va., to Washing- 
 ton, D. C, our nation's capital. We, who had lived 
 at great distance from the seat of government, were 
 greatly impressed by its splendid Federal buildings, 
 its departments and their activities. Its many his- 
 toric spots and statues, its magnificent piles of mar- 
 ble and granite masterpieces of architecture, the 
 Capitol, White House, Congressional Library, all 
 seemed to be ours by heritage, for it was this and a 
 distant spot called "Home" that we were about to 
 defend. 
 
 The first expedition of American troops had left 
 
 26 
 
for France and among them was the Fifth Regiment 
 of Marines, which had become temporarily a part of 
 the First Division of the Army. The Sixth Regi- 
 ment followed at close intervals and every man in 
 every section of it that entrained at Quantico, Va., 
 for Philadelphia, Pa., from where we embarked for 
 France, was jubilant and fired with patriotism. 
 Within three hours after our arrival at Philadelphia 
 by strenuous labor our stores were aboard and after 
 a good night's sleep we mov^d out of the harbor 
 into deep sea, and two days later, in company with 
 other troop ships, we were picked up by an American 
 escort consisting of six destroyers and one cruiser. 
 
 Two of the four groups of transports that had 
 preceded us across the Atlantic, carrying among 
 other troops the Fifth Regiment of Marines, had 
 been attacked by enemy submarines and it was but 
 natural to feel uncomfortable at times, but not a 
 man showed any nervous symptoms. The morale 
 was high for we knew the Navy would get us across. 
 Each man, equipped with a life preserver, was as- 
 signed to a place on a life boat or raft; "Abandon 
 Ship!'' was practiced twice every day, and, on the 
 two Sundays included in our fourteen days' trip 
 across no scene of greater impressiveness could be 
 witnessed than the entire crew assembled on deck 
 at church service, bowed in prayer to God for a safe 
 landing. 
 
 Eventually we came upon the shores of sunny, 
 sorrowing France, bringing hope to our Allies that 
 liberty would triumph and that hell would not run 
 amuck forever. 
 
 27 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Near the Front 
 
 T was St. Nazaire . Slowly drift- 
 ing through the locks which ex- 
 tended into the heart of the 
 City, we came to our journey's 
 end, where we spent the night 
 aboard ship,^ and early the next 
 morning took our stores ashore. 
 
 After a hearty lunch we were off 
 on a two hour hike to camp, not far 
 from the city, where rough huts had been hastily 
 erected for us. With straw strewn over the damp 
 floors of earth, knapsacks for pillows and sandwiched 
 between army blankets, we slept hke tops while the 
 bleak winds of November and the cold autumnal 
 rains whistled and beat a symphony of joy at our 
 coming. 
 
 Here we remained for two weeks, doing guard 
 duty, drilling in the mud, and then moved on by 
 train to Lormont, a suburb of Bordeaux. We trav- 
 eled in freight or cattle cars, and hinky dinky ones 
 at that, four wheels, no springs, no heat, no win- 
 dows, no seats, no light. Their capacity was eight 
 horses, two rows of four abreast, or forty men, 
 packed like sardines. The easiest and surest way to 
 rest was for all to lie down at once and when we 
 wanted to turn over, some one would order "Flop" 
 
 29 
 
when all backs rolled at once. Thus we traveled, 
 huddled together for three nights, and, by day, to 
 gain space for moving about inside, we took turns in 
 sitting in the doorways, with our feet dangling out, 
 viewing the scenery as it shifted. 
 
 It was now December, below zero, but we were a 
 sanguine bunch for all of that. yVe had not expected 
 a bed of roses, and we knew we were yoked to Vic- 
 tory. 
 
 Ere long Christmas dawned again for the entire 
 world and ours was especially unique. In the morn- 
 ing athletic events were held, running races, tug- 
 of-war, foot ball, and catching a greased pig; in the 
 afternoon we had a real American Christmas din- 
 ner, and at night we took a trip to Bordeaux, just to 
 look them over. We observed here and recalled that 
 since our arrival in France we were greeted with the 
 salutation "Nos Amis," meaning ''our friends." It 
 is a rule of pronunciation in the French language 
 that when a word ending with a consonant is fol- 
 lowed by a word beginning with a vowel the two 
 words must be blended, and to our American ears 
 this made the word "Amis" of the two words "Nos 
 Amis" sound like "Sammies." Perhaps it was our 
 misinterpretation that started it as a name for the 
 American Expeditionary Forces but it never proved 
 to be as popular an appellation among the boys as 
 "Yank." 
 
 With headquarters at Lormont, for five weeks we 
 
 30 
 
went to and from Bassens daily, putting the little 
 busy bee to shame, unloading cars of steel, carrying 
 rails and ties, and building railroads. Here we 
 came in contact with various nationalities doing the 
 same work, the most peculiar of whom were the 
 Indo-Chinese grotesquely dressed for zero weather in 
 quilted printed cloth about an inch thick and wear- 
 ing large straw hats which were made in a variety 
 of shapes. 
 
 Tough as the pine knots in the railroad ties that 
 we had just laid in snow and sleet, we felt out of 
 place in the five compartment passenger cars that 
 carried us on from Lormont to Damblain, in the 
 Bourmont Training Area, but the desire to make us 
 feel at home was irresistable so some one chalked 
 on the door of each compartment "8 cheveaux (8 
 horses)^ '*40 hommes (40 men)." 
 
 We were now about seventy-five miles from the 
 front Hnes and hiked, or rather slid, seven kilo- 
 meters (about four and a half miles) nearer, over 
 ice and sleet, shod in heavy hob-nail shoes that had 
 been issued to us at Bordeaux. A little town called 
 Blevaincourt was our haven of rest. It was here in 
 the Bourmont training area that headquarters for 
 the Sixth Regiment of Marines was estabhshed, 
 which, like the Fifth Regiment, had spent several 
 months performing the necessary but undesired 
 duties along the lines of communication. 
 
 With the exception of one company which was on 
 
 31 
 
duty in England the entire Fourth Brigade of 
 Marines was in the Bourmont training area until the 
 middle of March, 1918, training industriously as an 
 Infantry Brigade of the Second Division. Blevain- 
 court had been almost entirely evacuated, the few 
 inhabitants remaining being aged men and women, 
 toiling hard, and only one cafe and three small gen- 
 eral merchandise stores were open. Here we were 
 billeted in stable lofts or houses, in groups of from 
 ten to a platoon. The houses were built close to- 
 gether, bearing labels stating how many men and 
 horses they could accommodate. All stables ad- 
 joined the houses, and, at breakfast, a horse in his 
 stall would neigh in the kitchen door for his morning 
 oats. At either or both sides of the front entrances 
 to all houses were mounds of stable sweepings, but it 
 was not long before American sanitation was inau- 
 gurated and they disappeared. 
 
 It was here that we were among the first to receive 
 and use the rolling kitchens, and from now on war 
 equipment and Army clothing came to outfit us for 
 the tremendous tasks ahead. Guard duty was nov/ 
 continuous, at which each man had his turn. When 
 all was quiet in the early morning hours, while walk- 
 ing post, we could hear the faint sound of guns 
 booming in the distance telling that a drive was on 
 and that ere many moons we too would be in the 
 thick of it. 
 
 It was not long before we thoroughly understood 
 the intricate mechanism of the one-pounders, which 
 
 32 
 
fired twenty-six explosive shells in one minute, and 
 the three-inch Stoke's Mortar which hurled ten-inch 
 shells through the air up to sixteen hundred yards 
 distance. Steel helmets weighing two pounds were 
 now worn during all drills, and we had learned to 
 adjust our gas masks within six seconds after an 
 alarm had been sounded. 
 
 After drilling for several weeks in firing trench- 
 mortars, one-pounders, machine guns and rifle gre- 
 nades, and in throwing hanji grenades, we marched 
 to practice trenches about twenty-two kilometers 
 away. It was below zero and the only way to keep 
 from freezing was to keep moving. We learned the 
 theory of trench warfare very quickly and in a short 
 time we were ordered to leave the Bourmont train- 
 ing area. We loaded our horses and suppHes on 
 cars under cover of night and two days later we 
 detrained at a small place in the vicinity of Ste. 
 Menehould, near the Marne River, which at that 
 time was being shelled by the Germans, and we had 
 to hop, skip and jump to keep from being hit. Cold, 
 hungry and wet, on we marched, hour after hour, 
 each man bearing a pack weighing about foi-ty-five 
 pounds, consisting of two blankets, a supply of 
 underclothes, a pair of trousers, emergency rations of 
 hardtack and ''monkey meat" (canned corned beef), 
 besides a heavy belt with one hundred rounds of 
 ammunition, a canteen, wire cutters, gas mask, hel- 
 met and rifle. Yes, and each man had around his 
 
neck, next to his body, two identification tags one of 
 which would mark his grave and the other his body 
 if need be. 
 
 Erect, determined, undaunted, the tramp, tramp 
 of hobnail shoes brought us nearer and nearer to the 
 front, and verily did the inhabitants of the small 
 towns we passed through exclaim "Nos Amis!" for 
 we were about to begin a job which we felt confident 
 of being able to finish. We reached our destination 
 at daybreak, where on the side of a hill were some 
 bunkhouses formerly occupied by Allied troops, 
 which became our quarters for several days. In the 
 valley below was a narrow gauge railroad with the 
 record of having saved the city of Verdun by being 
 the only means of getting food and ammunition to 
 the troops. 
 
 It was here we first made the acquaintance of 
 man's most clinging companions, ''cooties," which 
 were more appropriately named "Arithmetic Bugs," 
 by the boys, because they added to our troubles, sub- 
 tracted from our pleasures, divided our attention 
 and multiplied like — 11. They were well trained, 
 always on the offensive, and made successful raids 
 on us at any hour. 
 
 Not a day passed here without our witnessing 
 Allied and German airplanes in combat several 
 thousand feet above. It was gruesome to see them 
 tumbling through the air a whirling maze of fire, 
 dropping to earth with gasoline tank ablaze, and 
 descending with a pilot who had been shot ; but these 
 
 34 
 
 I 
 
sights were nothing compared to the greater aerial 
 battles we later witnessed very much lower, and 
 directly over us, at Belleau Wood, near Soissons, St. 
 Mihiel , Champagne, Argonne Forest and on the 
 Meuse River. 
 
 Weird also was the effect of large shells whizzing 
 over our heads from some distant long range Ger- 
 man gun, speeding on to do their work of death and 
 destruction in some nearby town. But this, too, 
 was a mere trifle to what followed. 
 
 From here we moved on to another camp where 
 we spent many pleasant and profitable hours fra- 
 ternizing with French veterans, each of whom had 
 four years of valor and suffering to his credit. 
 
 Poker games have been raided before, but never 
 was there such a stampede as happened here. All 
 was quiet within a bunkhouse, which was camou- 
 flaged as trees. The game progressed. The same 
 old bull, the same old bluflf. A full house was — 
 '*"Whiz! Bang! — A second of perfect silence. Then 
 a voice shouted ''To the dugouts!" What a rush! 
 Stumbling, crawling, falling over one another, 
 through the kindling wood to which a German shell 
 had reduced our hut, we reached the dugouts and 
 there for three hours we listened to the "Chimes of 
 Death." There were no lives lost, but on the follow- 
 ing day another attack by shell fire shattered our 
 bunk houses and killed some of our men. Dugouts 
 became our sole abode now, until we were ordered 
 to the front line trenches. 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 A Battle and a Caravan 
 
 ATE at night, through rain and 
 mud, we marched to the front 
 line trenches, from where, on 
 the side of a hill, when the day? 
 were clear, we could see the cities of 
 Verdun and Metz. This sector was 
 so quiet that the French veterans, 
 called it a **Rest Camp," neverthe- 
 less, extreme caution had to be 
 exercised in getting our supplies into the trenches, 
 as we were very near the lines. They were trans- 
 ferred from our wagon trains by night to small cars, 
 stealthily drawn by mules through the town to the 
 side of the hill, unloaded and carried into the 
 trenches. 
 
 It was a tremendous task rendered doubly diffi- 
 cult by darkness and slippery mud, and it was very 
 hazardous because of our exposure to shell fire. Our 
 lookouts and outposts were established the first night 
 and they were constantly at "stand to," on the alert 
 for an enemy raid. It came soon enough and with 
 it some real excitement. At intervals a snipping 
 sound was heard and it was suspected that a Ger- 
 man raiding party was at work. Rockets quickly 
 fired by our outposts, lookouts, and from our 
 trenches, illuminated **No Man's Land" and there 
 
 37 
 
could be seen crawling towards us, still distant, a 
 German wire-cutting party, that had opened a pas- 
 sageway through many lines of our barbed wire, and 
 behind these crawled a raiding party. As soon as 
 they were spotted, up sailed from our side a rocket 
 bursting into three stars, which called for our ar- 
 tillery barrage. It came instantly, when, as every 
 ^un belched forth, the earth seemed to tremble for 
 miles around and for the second time we heard the 
 Chimes of Death ring out. High in the air went 
 another rocket. This one burst into six stars, which 
 was the signal to our machine gunners for their bar- 
 rage. In another second a deadily rain of hot lead 
 fell over ''No Man's Land" and in the German lines 
 beyond. The odor of gas was scented; two green 
 rockets ascended. Klaxons were sounded, and the 
 word ''Gas" was passed. In six seconds every man 
 had his gas mask on and it seemed as if the lid were 
 off Hell with the two barrages roaring and spitting, 
 grenades exploding and rifles popping from the 
 trenches, while, at the same time, shells were com- 
 ing through the air from the German side, striking 
 the earth, exploding and throwing rocks, dirt and 
 their own fragments in every direction. 
 
 Eternity seemed crowded into this, our first bat- 
 tle, which lasted two hours. It was harrowing to 
 see a comrade struck dead at your side, but the sight 
 of others who, wounded and bleeding, were sticking 
 to their post like supermen, while brave iron-nerved 
 
 38 
 
officers gave and enforced orders, injected courage 
 into all of us and we felt that we could endure and 
 dare until Doom's Day. Gradually the German fire 
 weakened and by daybreak it ceased entirely. Ten- 
 derly our stretcher bearers gathered up our wound- 
 ed, who were soon cared for at first aid stations or 
 sent by ambulance trains to hospitals in rear of the 
 lines. Our dead were removed a short distance to 
 the rear, and as we could not bury them before sun- 
 rise without detection by the enemy and further ex- 
 posure to shell fire, we waited to perform this sad 
 duty until the following night. In the little time 
 that remained before dawn some of us crawled like 
 ghouls into "No Man's Land," and gathered up the 
 German dead. They were taken to regimental head- 
 quarters, back where our hut was destroyed during 
 a poker game, thoroughly searched for any papers 
 or other articles that would be of value to our intel- 
 ligence officers, and then buried in deep holes made 
 by their own shell fire. They had literally dug their 
 own graves, and as we covered them over with the 
 shattered turf we knew, too, that we had begun to 
 bury the egoism: 
 
 "Gott pulls mit me, und I mit him, 
 Myself— und Gott." 
 
 Hastily in a race with time to do all we could be- 
 fore the light of day, we mended our barbed wire, 
 repaired all trenches that had been torn by enemy 
 
 39 
 
shell fire and stored quantities of ammunition within 
 reach for instant action. Our muddy beds were a 
 luxury and those of us who could mire in them, now 
 that day had come, were fortunate, for lookouts 
 were as essential by day as by night and it was a 
 battle against nature, weary and sleepy, to use the 
 periscopes in this duty until relieved, for none dared 
 to stick their heads above the parapets. 
 
 It was not long before the Brigade moved to a new 
 portion of the sector. We were relieved by a French 
 division, which had just returned from hard fighting 
 on the Somme Front, and once again our wagon 
 trains were loaded. Our destination was unknown 
 to us, but buoyantly we marched as some hummed 
 and others whistled: * 'Where do we go from here, 
 boys, where do we go from here?" It was now 
 early Spring and the balmy air and sprouting ver- 
 dure were a tonic to us during the several delays of 
 this march, which were caused by Germans shelling 
 the cross roads ahead of us. Without a scratch and 
 in fine fettle we reached the lines which extended 
 through the ruins of Haudiamont to a short distance 
 from Verdun. Night fighting here was fierce and 
 during the day German aeroplanes soared around 
 us, dropping bombs and firing machine guns until 
 they were chased or bagged by an American or Al- 
 lied plane. 
 
 Thirty days were spent here, when, once again 
 relieved by French troops, we assembled several kilo- 
 
 40 
 
meters in the rear, formed into battalions, and with 
 real Yankee pep swung down a seemingly never 
 ending road. When the command "Fall Out!" was 
 given we had reached a small town near Ste. Mene- 
 hould where we were glad to stretch on the hard 
 floors of the deserted houses. Three hours rest was 
 enough for most of us and after breakfast, during 
 the little time left, we roamed at will. A water 
 trough was discovered, and as^it was our first op- 
 portunity in a long while to wash up and shave, we 
 worked it overtime. 
 
 The flowers of spring were in bloom and nowhere 
 were they more beautiful than in two cemeteries 
 here, one for civilians, in which mingled with the 
 flowers were wreaths wrought of beads artistic in 
 design and color, and, in the other for the soldier 
 dead, were rare tokens of remembrance and love 
 made and placed among the flowers by their com- 
 rades in the war. Scenes of beauty were viewed 
 everywhere here from hilltops and from the bridge 
 crossing the Marne Canal, in striking and appre- 
 ciative contrast to the desolation and destruction 
 that we had beheld elsewhere. 
 
 In the afternoon we were on the march again, 
 until nine o'clock at night when we pitched camp on 
 a roadside and after an early breakfast the next 
 morning we were off again. The temperature had 
 risen gradually to an oppressive degree, causing 
 many heat prostrations among us, although there 
 
 41 
 
was always an interval of ten minutes rest to each 
 fifty minutes of marching. We passed through 
 many villages and along the roadside we could see 
 old women and children working in the fields. At 
 the end of a torrid day we entered the city of Vitry 
 le Francois, where we were welcomed by many pretty 
 French girls who waved their handkerchiefs and 
 threw flowers at us. As long as these chic, smiling, 
 gesticulating maidens were around heat prostrations 
 increased one hundred percent and there was many 
 a faked "Fall Out!" before the real command was 
 given. 
 
 We had come here for open warfare training but 
 within a week it was found that this area was un- 
 suited for our purpose. We, therefore, entrained 
 at Vitry le Francois for Pentoise from where two 
 more days of marching over hills, through dales of 
 blooming poppies, parboiling and bronzing in the 
 sun with an occasional chance to soak our burning, 
 aching, blistered feet in cooling streams, brought us 
 to a training area around Gisors, Chaumont en 
 Vixen, northwest of Paris. It was while we were in 
 this area in reserve near Montdidier, that orders 
 were received for the Second Division to hasten to 
 the Chateau Thierry sector to render assistance to 
 the Allies in stopping the most dangerous of the 
 German drives. They had launched their third of- 
 fensive, west of Rheims, crossed the Chemin des 
 Dames, captured Soissons and were marching in the 
 
 42 
 
direction of Paris down the Mame Valley. A crisis 
 had been reached and quick action was required. 
 We were prepared for another move and instead of 
 hiking, French trucks came to carry us on. Eighteen 
 men and their equipment was the capacity of each 
 truck and when they were filled with the Second 
 Division, including the Marine Brigade, and set out 
 one abreast, the wagon trains loaded with supplies 
 following, it made one of the world's greatest cara- 
 vans — sixteen miles in length. -One thing is sure, 
 no Crusaders ever ventured or accomplished more. 
 
 48 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 At Belleau Woods 
 
 VER the turf we motored as the 
 balmy breezes and golden sun- 
 beams kissed the rippling folds 
 of Old Glory and what a won- 
 derful sight it was when we were 
 on the summit of a hill to look in 
 either direction ^down upon distant 
 valleys and other hills over which 
 this incomparable caravan was 
 speeding. Observation balloons hovered over us and 
 we passed many groups of anti-aircraft guns, used 
 as a line of defense against German night raids on 
 Paris, which city we could now plainly see in the dis- 
 tance as we were running parallel to it. After a 
 while we turned away from Paris into what was 
 called the Paris-Metz road, which was a busy route 
 for moving armies and supplies. 
 
 Every hour and a half in our course we rested for 
 fifteen minutes, so that we could get out and stretch 
 ourselves, and about twilight we entered the city of 
 Meaux, where we first saw refugees. Our stop here 
 was short and we were soon rolling again in the 
 direction of far distant Metz. We knew our desti- 
 nation was the Chateau-Thierry region and the 
 nearer we came to it the more refugees we passed, 
 poor homeless creatures, all of whom were either old 
 
 45 
 
men and women or helpless children, carrying all 
 that was left of their earthly possessions. Most of 
 them bore heavy bundles, some pushed wheelbarrows 
 or hand-carts, and a few who had saved their cows 
 eased their burden by tying their belongings to the 
 animals' backs so that they could help some less for- 
 tunate soul to get on. Not far from the roadside was 
 a canal. We could see boats upon it, some of which 
 were drawn by horses too old to be drafted, others 
 by French tanks and all of them were loaded with 
 hungry, frightened, pitiful refugees. None of the 
 scenes of ruin and desolation we had beheld since our 
 entry into France impressed us like the suffering 
 inflicted upon these defenseless, homeless beings. 
 Every American felt his fighting blood boil at sight 
 of such frightfulness and the spirit of Lafayette 
 must have heard our resolve to halt the German 
 hordes in their determined drive on Paris. 
 
 Miles melted,, distance faded, and ere long we were 
 near the French line of defense that was waiting for 
 the German blow. We alighted from our trucks at 
 Montreuil-aux-Lions near Chateau-Thierry, from 
 where they were hurried back to pick up the thou- 
 sands of refugees along the road and carry them to 
 a safety zone, in the rear, for food and shelter. We 
 were asleep here for the night on the side of a hill, 
 along the road, when we were ordered to reroll our 
 packs and march further on, about five kilometers, 
 to a place called White Farm. Some of us slept here 
 
 46 
 
in barn lofts and others in the woods nearby, while 
 our officers remained up planning the best way to 
 form a line against the German drive on Paris. 
 
 About daybreak we marched back to Montreuil- 
 aux-Lions where, under cover of deserted homes, we 
 fed and rested until nightfall, when every man was 
 ready to move to the front lines. As we marched to 
 the lines we passed by tons of shells and hundreds of 
 cans of powder that had been piled in the fields, 
 camouflaged as stacks of wheat or as clusters of full 
 grown weeds to prevent German airplanes from 
 dropping bombs upon them, and every little clump of 
 bushes concealed a number of guns. Avoiding the 
 roads we marched through fields and woods until we 
 were right behind a French division with our guns 
 all set for action. When word was passed to them 
 that our artillery support was ready, they picked up 
 their guns, grenades and all accoutrements and fell 
 back. We were then the front line defense. 
 
 In the dim haze of the day now dawning our look- 
 outs spotted moving lines of Germans. They had 
 formed in Belleau Wood about five hundred yards in 
 front of us, marched in squad formation for a dis- 
 tance and then came with a rush towards us. The 
 battle was on! Each marine had his rifle to his 
 shoulder, popping away with careful aim,, always at 
 some selected German and when he pulled his trig- 
 ger his man dropped. Nothing could have surpassed 
 the accuracy of our rifle fire. The effect was like a 
 
 47 
 
bowling tournament in which men fell over like ten 
 pins, and when our artillery support opened up they, 
 too, delivered the goods C. 0. D. irrespective of name 
 or address. 
 
 The advancing German lines became thinner under 
 our expert fire and when all that remained of them 
 dropped to the ground we knew they had been 
 stopped. We continued firing, however, and made 
 it so hot for them that they got up and ran back to 
 the woods, but scores of them never reached there 
 and it can be truly said that many a German was 
 shot in the back. 
 
 Having no further reason to shoot our rifle fire 
 weakened, but shells from our big guns continued to 
 whiz over our heads and drop in the German lines, 
 in Belleau Wood beyond, for we thought they would 
 make another attempt to get through — and they did. 
 Later in the evening they failed in a second advance 
 and their dead piled up as we again drove them 
 back into the woods. 
 
 Night brought with it an opportunity for our 
 ration details to find our ration dumps on the cross- 
 roads and in nearby ravines, and thus relieve us of 
 hunger, but to sleep in our holes was impossible. By 
 dawn our wounded had been cared for and every 
 man was fresh and wide awake when word was 
 passed by our lookouts that the Germans were get- 
 ting ready to come over. 
 
 For five days and nights now we were up against 
 
 48 
 
it. On the first day we were pelted with a mild ar- 
 tillery fire; on the second the Germans opened up 
 their artillery on us with full force, and after hun- 
 dreds of shells were dropped on our side, they came 
 over twice but each time they went back paying a 
 heavy toll in dead and wounded. The third, fourth 
 and fifth days brought increased firing, gas shells, 
 high explosives and air bursting shrapnel. Our dead 
 and wounded increased in numbers. Our ration de- 
 tails were being killed at night while trying to get 
 food and water to the men in the front lines; our 
 ration dumps were being blown up ; our first aid sta- 
 tions were being shelled; snipers were doing their 
 deadly work and big guns were pounding away to 
 destroy our line of defense — but we held on, fought 
 on, dared on, through the sixth restless day and 
 night, when we were told that on the next morning 
 we were to go over the top. 
 
 The zero hour for our artillery barrage was four 
 A. M. It opened up promptly and in the next three 
 hours nearly twenty thousand shells of all sizes 
 rained upon the Germans in the woods and ravines 
 beyond. At fifteen minutes of seven, during this 
 terrific fire, word was passed that the zero hour for 
 us to go over the top was seven o'clock. To describe 
 the quick and careful Reparation during the next 
 fifteen minutes when each man inspected his rifie, 
 gas mask and combat pack, adjusted his ammuni- 
 tion belt and bandiliers, looked after his emergency 
 
 49 
 
rations, rifle bayonet, Colt's automatic and hand 
 grenade is simple enough ; but who can fathom our 
 minds and souls and adequately describe our 
 thoughts and feelings during this quarter of an 
 hour — the last for many of us. 
 
 There was a tenderness each felt for the other and 
 an indescribable suppressed emotion that was neither 
 fear, doubt nor regret. While the thoughts we 
 breathed vibrated through space and while our men- 
 tal radios of love were being wafted back to home, 
 promptly at the zero hour of seven a whistle was 
 blown and an officer shouted "Up and at 'em !" Leap- 
 ing from our holes we formed into skirmish lines and 
 as we started to advance our artillery barrage raised 
 and changed to a creeping one. 
 
 A heavy German artillery barrage was trained 
 upon us from the woods and we now literally entered 
 into the mouth of hell. Bullets from machine guns 
 popped around our heads and feet and shells fell 
 about us, throwing dirt in our eyes, as we stumbled 
 over the bodies of dead Germans, killed by us in their 
 attempts during the past five days to break through 
 our lines. 
 
 Comrades fell around us never to rise again. 
 Brave boys struck down,, bandaged their own wounds 
 and fought on while those too weak to rise called for 
 first aid. Wave upon wave we advanced, and finally 
 reached the edge of the woods where we had a close 
 fight with the Germans, which lasted until noon, when 
 
 .50 
 
we established our positions. Later the Germans 
 made a counter attack for nearly two hours, but we 
 held our ground,, lost fewer men than they did and 
 captured many prisoners who were big hardened 
 warriors, the pick of the Crown Prince's troops, all 
 of whom were greatly amazed to know that they 
 were fighting Americans. 
 
 As night descended, our ration and water details 
 started on their perilous duty of getting food and 
 drink to the men in front. Our stretcher bearers 
 removed the wounded, our dead were cared for, am- 
 munition dumps were distributed along the front 
 line, the dead and wounded were replaced by re- 
 serves and we awaited the coming of the zero hour 
 of seven A. M. when we were up and **at 'em" again 
 with a yell. Just as before our artillery support 
 started a barrage. Trees were uprooted ; the woods 
 were denuded; it seemed impossible for anyone to 
 live through it, but, as we clashed onward we found 
 many German riflemen, machine gunners and artil- 
 lerymen still on the job, and they gave us hell for 
 fair. "Teufel hunden!" (Devil Dogs) they called us, 
 and they named us well, for with leaps and bounds 
 like a kennel of unleashed satanic hydrophobic 
 thoroughbreds we were "at 'em" tooth and nail, hair 
 and hide. Bullets, shell and shrapnel filled the air. 
 Shot after shot deliberately aimed at human targets 
 registered again and again. We pushed on, captured 
 Hill 142 and Bouresches and sturdily held our ground 
 against the enemy's best guard divisions. There was 
 a wheat field through which we passed on our way to 
 Bouresches. The wheat was about waist high, 
 young, tender and green and intermingled with it 
 were thousands of radiant poppies. It seemed to 
 
 51 
 
illustrate the perpetuity of life and nature that men 
 should die among this resurrecting herbage. 
 
 Twice we were halted in our advance on Bou- 
 resches by a German machine gun nest situated on a 
 hill and screened by huge boulders, seemingly as im- 
 pregnable as Gibraltar. Finally our artillery was 
 ordered to fall back a short distance and throw a 
 barrage on it. After registering and opening all our 
 guns, it was soon smashed to smithereens and not a 
 live German or insect crawled in its crevices. The 
 Germans had a quantity of ammunition stored at 
 Bouresches and rather than have it fall into our 
 hands with the city from which they were now flee- 
 ing, they set fire to both. 
 
 Belleau Wood and Bouresches were ours, and it 
 has been said officially that in all the history of the 
 U. S. Marine Corps there is no record of such battles, 
 when, without relief or sleep, and frequently for 
 forty-eight hours without food or water, officers and 
 men both tenaciously clung as their lines were 
 thinned, making the supreme sacrifice true to the 
 motto of their corps ''Semper Fidelis" — ("Always 
 Faithful.") 
 
 SllSffl 
 
 62 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 SOISSONS 
 
 UR line of communication was 
 by a ravine which ran along the 
 edge of Belleau Wood from 
 what was known as Triangle 
 Farm, in the valley of Lucy, to 
 where we ha'd our regimental aid 
 station ; and over this ravine was a 
 culvert which was used as our first 
 aid station. Our wounded were 
 carried in Ford ambulances from the culvert to the 
 aid station, and so many of them were blown off the 
 road into the ravine by German shells that it was. 
 called "Dead Man's Gulch" by the Marines. 
 
 Neither had our regimental aid station been spared! 
 by German shell fire in the recent battles, nor was 
 there any more daring deed performed during them 
 than when one morning just at dawn a runner, 
 nearly exhausted, found his way to our regimental 
 headquarters about three kilometers away. He 
 brought the message that our regimental aid station 
 had been blown up by German shell fire, that many 
 patients had been killed and that all the doctoin^. Red 
 Cross men and wounded who had been removed for 
 safety to the cellar were buried in the ruins. Volun- 
 teers were called for and a rescue party, defying 
 death and danger, was off to dig them out. On 
 
 53 
 
their way a German seventy-seven came over and 
 dropped in a pond nearby, exploding and sending a 
 geyser into the air about one hundred feet high. In 
 the misty morning light, not having seen the ascent 
 of the water, it was easy enough when they came 
 upon it in its descent, which encompassed their path, 
 to imagine that a cloud had burst over them, — ^but a 
 little thing like this could not stop a willing rescue 
 party. 
 
 Airplane activity increased and as we lay in our 
 holes by day, German planes would swoop down close 
 above us while we dodged their aerial bombs and 
 machine gun fire. By night there were air raids on 
 Meaux, and for miles around we could see airplanes 
 spotted out against the sky as searchlights followed 
 them, aiding the allied anti-aircraft guns to bring 
 them down to earth. 
 
 It was now near the end of June, and as a reward 
 for our recent victory a limited number of men from 
 each company were taken to Paris for a Fourth of 
 July parade. Many of our wounded had been sent 
 to hospitals at Paris regularly for months and after 
 we reached there about the first thing each man did 
 was to look up some less fortunate buddy with whom 
 he had been upon the brink of the Great Beyond. 
 We found them all cheerful, hopeful, impatient for 
 action and envious of the dangers still ahead. 
 
 Then came a tour of Paris with the joy o± laugh- 
 ter, the luxury of rest and the thrill of applause. 
 
 54< 
 
We explored every street, avenue and place, viewed 
 the theaters, historic buildings, bridges and statues, 
 while everywhere we roamed Parisienne maidens ex- 
 claimed "ou la la sweet Papa!" "Voulez vous pro- 
 menade avec moi?" and we had acquired enough 
 French to respond "Certainement avec plaisir ma 
 chere mademoiselle." Then came the great Fourth 
 of July parade in Paris when we Marines, among 
 other veterans of numerous battles, many of us less 
 than the prescribed age of manhood, felt goose flesh 
 crawl over us as flowers were strewn in our path 
 while we marched to the national airs of our Allies, 
 and our own ''Star Spangled Banner," mid the lusty 
 vives of a grateful populace. But our work of war- 
 fare had not ended. In a short while we were re- 
 turned to our companies, where we joined a resigned 
 and stoical detail which had been picked from those 
 left behind, while we were in Paris, and we were 
 ordered to the lines with them as a salvage party. 
 
 Groping through the dark and stumbling over the 
 dead as we worked, we passed White Farm, regi- 
 mental headquarters, and the battered ruins of Lucy. 
 We entered the old ravine near the first aid station 
 under the culvert and trailed through Dead Man's 
 Gulch, towards the lines, removing good equipment 
 from the dead and picking up all that had been 
 dropped by the wounded. We were stopped many 
 times and were turned away from our course as 
 shells were fired by the Germans in their receded 
 
 55 
 
positions, and frequently we had to lie down with 
 the dead to save ourselves. In order to get through 
 in some places we were compelled to climb over piles 
 of shattered trees that had fallen in the destruction 
 of the woods and our only guide to a safe exit be- 
 fore daylight was the incessant booming of one of 
 our guns, the direction of which we knew would lead 
 us out. 
 
 About the end of the first week in July we were 
 relieved by the Twenty-Sixth Division. We marched 
 to another woods about fifteen kilometers to the 
 rear of our lines, not far from the Marne River, 
 where we were held in reserve in case the Germans 
 attempted to break through again. After several 
 days here we moved from woods to woods to keep the 
 Germans from registering their long range guns on 
 us, and about the middle of the month we marched 
 back to where that wonderful caravan had landed 
 us previous to the memorable Battle of Belleau 
 Wood, but many a splendid, brave, big-hearted boy 
 was missing. 
 
 A thrust towards Soissons, the vast offensive 
 known as the Aisne-Mame, had been planned and we 
 were soon rushed from here to the "Jump Off." 
 After thirty-six hours of scorching the road and 
 burning the air our motor trucks were brought to a 
 stop and we debussed on the edge of the Bois-de- 
 Retz, through which we hiked to the Soissons front. 
 
 The place of honor in this thrust was given to our 
 
 56 
 
First and Second Divisions, with the First French 
 Moroccan Division between us, and together we 
 moved through the forest in the inky darkness of 
 night, rain and mud, being compelled to march double 
 file, touching one another all the while to avoid 
 being separated. We reached the lines on the morn- 
 ing of July 18, 1918, and just a few minutes after 
 taking our positions a battery of French seventy- 
 fives slowly tolled the hour: 'Bang! Bang! Bang! 
 Bang! — Four o'clock. It was the appointed time 
 and signaled that the battle was on. 
 
 Although fagged and nearly famished from forty- 
 eight hours of movement, we, with the other two 
 divisions, were employed as the spearhead of the 
 main attack and jumped into the fray without rest 
 or food. For three hours now every gun blazed 
 away and one of the heaviest artillery preparations 
 that the Germans ever faced spread terror to their 
 souls, at the end of which (7 A. M.) the zero hour 
 for our going over the top had been reached. We 
 met with very little resistance until we came upon 
 their fourth line and then they gave us merry hell 
 with their machine guns. However, by continually 
 pounding and gradually moving forward we forced 
 them back. 
 
 During this counter-offensive, the Sixth Regiment, 
 for a while occupied, all alone, the positions held on a 
 previous day by three regiments, and a battalion of 
 reserves was sent to the Fifth as replacements. 
 
 57 
 
They were of the same virile, sturdy type, and to- 
 gether, in skirmish formation, we pushed on carry- 
 ing our lines over a hill to the right and extending 
 them far into a wheatfield, while the Germans 
 heaved hot lead upon us from their positions in a 
 woods about six hundred yards away. Progress 
 through the wheat was so difficult and slow that 
 French tanks opened up a path for us, which brought 
 on a terrific fire of high explosive shells and airplane 
 attacks from the German side. 
 
 Through the wheatfield and across a road brought 
 us into a field of stubble oats, and, although we were 
 now exposed full height to a deadly fire, there was no 
 faltering, no retreating. Almost exhausted our thin 
 frayed lines reached the edge of the woods and at 
 close range we put the enemy to rout. Our loss had 
 been heavy and the task to hold our wide front was 
 a dangerous one, but to magnify our number we dug 
 holes and placed in each one of them a figure formed 
 of a coat stuffed with a blanket and camouflaged as a 
 crouching soldier, upon which German aviators 
 wasted many bombs. 
 
 We were now so close upon the Germans that they 
 could not remove tons of powder and thousands of 
 shells they had stored in the valley below the woods, 
 and rather than leave them to us they set fire to 
 them, illuminating the heavens for miles around. 
 Our advance was so rapid that at the end of the 
 second day the Second Division had taken Beaure- 
 
 58 
 
paire Farm and Vierzy and reached a position in 
 front of Tigny. 
 
 We had driven the enemy over several hills and 
 fields before taking the town of Vierzy, which lay 
 in a valley surrounded by almost perpendicular hills. 
 In the hill, along the side of the town against which 
 we were fighting, were several wine caves, into one 
 of which we trapped and took twelve hundred pris- 
 oners and from another cave^ four Germans killed 
 many of our men with a machine gun they had lo- 
 cated within it, but realizing that they were caught 
 they came out and surrendered. Brigade headquar- 
 ters was established in a cave at Vierzy and we 
 built positions for further defense. 
 
 In the victory thus achieved, which has been con- 
 ceded to be the decisive battle of the war, we ad- 
 vanced over six miles, captured over three thousand 
 prisoners, 66 field guns, and tons of supplies, while 
 the enemy crossed swiftly to the north bank of the 
 Mame and beat it to the Vesle. There were many 
 miraculous escapes from death during these two 
 days of human slaughter when the lobe of an ear or 
 the hair on one's head was scorched by a speeding 
 bullet. There were also many premonitions of death 
 among the boys and the last words of the most fear- 
 less types of American manhood were invariably of 
 home and mother, coupled with the pride of passing 
 out in the uniform of their country. 
 
 A runner brought a message that we were to be 
 relieved by a French Division among which were 
 
 59 
 
Algerian troops and in a short while we were min- 
 gling with them. Before we moved out the Alger- 
 ians gave us their only mascot, Dodo, a genuine 
 African monkey that had been through every battle 
 with them, and his antics contributed many a happy 
 hour to the arduous days and nights that followed. 
 He was a Simian Militarist to the tip of his tail. 
 The sight of a person not in uniform would throw 
 him into a rage and whenever civilians appeared 
 they were in danger of being routed. We were 
 marching soon again back through the wheatfield 
 and down the steep hill into Vierzy, hungry, thirsty, 
 and sleepy, but the French hardtack and water ob- 
 tained here, plus American grit, helped us to plod 
 along three miles farther where, after a meal of hot 
 soup, the first in five days, we slept like babes in the 
 woods. 
 
 Salvage and burial details were sent out during 
 the following days and it was far from being a 
 pleasant or cheering task to gather and bury our 
 comrades of yesterday, less fortunate, though bet- 
 ter and braver, no doubt, than we who had survived 
 the Battle of Soissons. 
 
 60 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Between Battles 
 
 E HAD now countermarched to 
 the woods close to where the 
 German front lines were located 
 at the beginning of our recent 
 offensive and after entering it we 
 discovered that hundreds of shells 
 sent over to the enemy by us at that 
 time had exploded in a great num- 
 ber of tree tops, leaving quantities 
 of huge limbs shattered ready to fall at the least dis- 
 turbance and, also, that shells of all sizes were hang- 
 ing in many trees where they had stopped in their 
 propulsion. Safety first prompted us to move out of 
 the woods, which was not accomplished, unfortunate- 
 ly, before many were killed by limbs falling from 
 trees or by shells loosening and crashing down upon 
 them. This seemed to us like the limit of perversity 
 when men who had come through terrific battles 
 without a scratch and who were now nearing victory, 
 should finally meet their end in so defenseless a way. 
 These, therefore, were not the restful days we had 
 expected but the hot meals prepared in our field 
 kitchens then and devoured by us regularly were life 
 savers. On the night before leaving here, while each 
 man was settled in a dog tent with his bunkie, a large 
 shell sailed into our midst, exploded, killing and 
 
 61 
 
wounding several. This was followed by a second 
 shell, when we scooted for our lives to the nearby- 
 trenches and shell holes, making ourselves cozy in 
 them for the rest of the night. On the morrow, after 
 breakfast, we rolled our packs and marched on to 
 Taillefontaine, pitching and striking camp twice 
 on our way. 
 
 Here we rested for two days and bade "Au revoir" 
 to those of our comrades who had been wounded at 
 Soissons. They were now transferred to hospitals 
 and there were many among them who felt the pain 
 of parting and the sting of inaction far greater than 
 their wounds. 
 
 A continuance of hot meals with the added luxury 
 of sleeping on wooden bunks, covered with straw, 
 injected pep into us, and our six hours march from 
 here to Nanteuil, which became the Brigade's head- 
 quarters for about a week, was a mere nothing. We 
 were billeted in an area around Nanteuil-le-Hau- 
 douin and during this brief period of rest we en- 
 joyed the aerial stunts performed daily by students 
 of a nearby French aviation school. Luck seemed to 
 be with us now, for a while at least, and instead of 
 marching from here we boarded small box cars for 
 a twenty-four hour journey to an area around 
 Nancy, where we remained for about ten days, rest- 
 ing and refitting. 
 
 These were lazy days for us and we made the most 
 of them by enjoying liberty in the city of Nancy, 
 
 62 
 
where we viewed and studied the destruction done 
 to it by German air raids, by swimming daily or by 
 playing hookey otherwise from the death mill. Move- 
 ment was started soon for the occupation of the Mar- 
 bache subsector, near Pont-a-Mousson on the Mo- 
 selle River, and after a two days' march, head- 
 quarters was established at Scarponne,, just across 
 the Moselle River from Dieulouard, bringing us once 
 again within range of the big^ German guns. There 
 is a fine church at Dieulouard within which there oc- 
 curred a miracle of the war. During one of the 
 many German air raids by night two bombs were 
 dropped over it. They were about three feet long, 
 we^'ghed approximately one hundred pounds each 
 and when they crashed through the roof, striking the 
 hard stone floor beneath, they did no damage other 
 than cracking their own casings. They are now 
 fastened to two opposite columns in the church and 
 adjoining tablets have all the details inscribed upon 
 them. 
 
 After relieving the French troops, who had been 
 holding this sector, we were raided for four success- 
 ive nights by the Germans, but we had very few 
 casualties, while "No Man's Land" had many enemy 
 dead strewn over it and we bagged many prisoners. 
 There were no more raids from the German side for 
 nearly a week when we were relieved by the Eighty- 
 second Division. We had suffered very heavy casual- 
 ties during our recent offensives, in fact, in one com- 
 
 63 
 
pany but eighteen men remained of the original com- 
 plement. Our replacements were of a texture fit to 
 retain our record but being raw they had to be 
 trained, so, after three days' march we entered an 
 area about twenty kilometers southeast of Toul, 
 with headquarters at Favieres, where we underwent 
 intensive training for the impending St. Mihiel 
 offensive. 
 
 64 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 St. Mihiel 
 
 N oft repeated tale is undenia- 
 bly monotonous, but there 
 seems to be so much harmony 
 between the cold rain, sighing 
 winds, slippery, slimy mud and a 
 hike that ends with the beginning 
 of a battle that we must once again 
 refer to a coincidence that had fre- 
 quently been ours. So, after an- 
 other fatiguing march of several nights, soaked to 
 the bone by the unrelenting rain, splashed from 
 head to feet with the sticky quagmire of the Old 
 World but with spirit and ardor undampened, we 
 were once again at the front. It was the eve of the 
 St. Mihiel offensive and we were all set to fight as a 
 unit of the Second Division of the First Corps of the 
 First Army. 
 
 Just at one o'clock on the following morning a 
 broadside from our immense naval guns, manned 
 by American sailors, opened up. All our artillery 
 cut loose in one terrific bombardment and then the 
 hoary vapor of early morning changed to the lurid 
 hue of lightning. During this tremendous barrage 
 and aided by its ghastly reflection, our wire cutting 
 parties were at work opening a way in the entangle- 
 ments for our men to pass through and we who were 
 
 65 
 
crowded in the trenches were waiting restlessly for 
 the zero hour. Finally, when **Go get 'em!" was 
 shouted we formed into squads and passed through 
 the holes our men had cut for us, sifting through 
 the deep rows of wire entanglements until we were 
 on top of the German front lines. We deployed, ad- 
 vanced double time and got through their first, sec- 
 ond and third line of trenches easily, but we had a 
 hard fight to gain their fourth one. 
 
 We were engaged for several days in the vicinity 
 of Remenauville, Thiaucourt, Xammes and Jaulny 
 and our advance was so rapid that by nine o'clock 
 on the first morning of the drive we had not only 
 penetrated the German artillery positions, but had 
 also stormed and captured several pill boxes. These 
 were strong fortifications built of concrete with walls 
 about two feet thick ranging in size from about five 
 to twenty feet square. They were about five feet 
 underground with about two feet extending above 
 the surface, were well camouflaged and the larger 
 ones were designed for four or more compartments. 
 We also came upon many large dugouts, some of 
 them fifty feet underground, into which we entered 
 with great caution. We were meeting with practi- 
 cally no resistance as we drove on and could see the 
 Germans fleeing over hilltops at least a mile away, 
 but occasional bullets sent by enemy snipers fell 
 among us too often with fatal results. Into swamps, 
 wading through mud knee deep, we wiped out gun 
 
 66 
 
nests while one buddie baled out water with his hel- 
 met so the other could dig in and snipe. We con- 
 tinued our advance through woods after woods, and, 
 when we were again in the open we came upon a 
 German supply train that had been fired on by our 
 aviators as it was fleeing. All of its horses and most 
 of its men were either dead or wounded. 
 
 We had swept everything before us so completely, 
 had captured prisoners, cannon and other military 
 material, and had made such rapid headway that we 
 were close upon our objective in little over half the 
 time we had expected. 
 
 As we swept through the streets of Thiaucourt the 
 inhabitants waved and cheered from their doorways 
 and windows in ecstatic joy at our coming, for they 
 had practically been prisoners since the beginning 
 of the war. A typical old French mother, whose 
 furrowed face, crowned with gray disheveled hair 
 bespoke great suffering and sacrifice, sought us and 
 told our officers that when the Germans heard the 
 American Marines were coming they despaired of 
 their lives. She said she had induced a number of 
 them to hide in a nearby cave and led us to them. 
 "Kameradl Kamerad!" shouted in guttural tones 
 was their piteous cry when we surrounded them, 
 and, like humane Yanks, we led the two hundred or 
 more of them back to the stockades as prisoners to 
 join other hundreds of their crest-fallen kith and kin. 
 The morale of the German army was now at so low 
 
 67 
 
an ebb that we had no trouble in capturing a train 
 load of supplies and men. It seemed like taking 
 candy from a kid up to this point, when suddenly 
 large shells from the enemy rained upon us, which 
 materially increased the few losses we had sustained 
 up to now. They struck our field kitchens with un- 
 usual precision and we discovered the cause to be 
 that aim was directed by a German officer secreted 
 in a church steeple, who was using the hands of its 
 clock for signaling to his gunners. 
 
 Another cause of direct hits was found to be a 
 mirror about twelve by nine feet placed in the top of 
 a tree on a hill. By looking into this mirror with 
 field glasses the enemy could see our operations, but 
 only a few bullets from our well aimed rifles were 
 required to shatter it. 
 
 These were four days of successful operations 
 against the enemy, during which our replacements 
 fought and endured equal to their more seasoned 
 brothers-in-arms, resulting in a grand victory for 
 the American forces. 
 
 Within a week the brigade moved to the area 
 south of Toul with headquarters at Chaudenay. 
 
 68 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The Last Shot 
 
 N accomplishing this move we 
 countermarched over most of 
 the ground covered in our last 
 advance. Our longest stop was 
 Manonville where we camped for 
 about a week and then hiked to 
 Foug, where nearly all the women 
 and girls were employed in a steel 
 plant turning out shells for large 
 guns. 
 The four days we spent here were busy ones for 
 the few photographic galleries that were still able 
 to conduct business, when most of us groomed up to 
 have our pictures taken for the folks back home, but, 
 as cute as some looked, before long every "soldier 
 doll" among us was once again covered with the dust 
 of the roads and the mud of the swamps. We re- 
 mained in the vicinity of Toul for nearly a week, 
 from where we moved by rail to an area south of 
 Chalons-sur-Marne with headquarters at Sarry. 
 Here we were billeted for a few days with orders not 
 to go out of calling distance, and then moved, partly 
 by bus and by marching, to the Souain-Suippes area 
 with brigade headquarters at Suippes. 
 
 In the meantime it had been planned to break 
 
 69 
 
through the powerful German defenses in the Cham- 
 pagne. The Second Division, including the Marine 
 Brigade, was temporarily placed at the disposal of 
 the Fourth French Army to assist in this great pro- 
 posed offensive and, accordingly, we marched to the 
 front line near Somme-Py, with headquarters in the 
 trenches about two and a half kilometers to the 
 south. 
 
 The hour to move forward came. There was the 
 usual preliminary barrages, and, with a whoop, we 
 were over the top. A German sniper who had been 
 getting in his work upon us since daybreak from a 
 hole about two hundred yards away, was located and 
 rounded up in our advance. He had killed and 
 wounded several marines, which was bad enough, 
 but when he fired upon and killed a French Red 
 Cross man, unarmed, he was surrounded, dragged 
 from the hole, bound to the wire entanglements and 
 a volley of hot lead registered his last intolerable act. 
 
 We advanced rapidly to storm and seize the power- 
 fully fortified heights of Blanc Mont, passing over 
 the bodies of French soldiers who had fallen in a 
 similar attempt during the last five days. In 1914 
 over a million lives were lost in this vicinity and dur- 
 ing the four years of fighting to date the French had 
 held Blanc Mont Ridge for only fifteen minutes, the 
 Germans regaining it in a counterattack, so it was 
 now up to the Americans to do the job. The battle 
 began at seven o'clock and at eleven we had full pos- 
 
 70 
 
session of the ridge with but comparatively few cas- 
 ualties on our side. At the top, howevA^ an exciting 
 hand-to-hand fight took place, when we came upon 
 a mass of Germans in a trench. It was of the tra- 
 ditional Marine variety in which pistols, grenades 
 and bayonets were used freely, and resulted in our 
 bagging a number of prisoners. After cleaning up 
 this trench and several camouflaged dugouts, we 
 started down the opposite side of the ridge. 
 
 As we neared the bottom of it the Germans at- 
 tacked us from strong positions they still held, and 
 for a while we were blinded by the dirt plowed up 
 by their machine gun fire. Our loss was heavy but 
 we stormed their positions and captured many pris- 
 oners, considerable ammunition and several supply 
 dugouts. We crossed a valley and advanced up an- 
 other hillside, over bodies of the dead, and through 
 a small woods that led to an open field. 
 
 As we were crossing here in skirmish line a great 
 explosion occurred, a land mine was sprung beneath 
 us. Dirt, rocks, limbs of trees and human bodies, 
 both whole and dismembered, ascended to uncal- 
 culable height, not falling to the earth again for sev- 
 eral minutes. The concussion was so great that men 
 within the radius of half a mile were knocked down, 
 and it is estimated that at least a ton of powder was 
 used in this death trap, which left a hole of unusual 
 depth extending over an area of approximately one 
 hundred by fifty feet. We passed on from this 
 
 71 
 
scene and stopped a short distance beyond for the 
 night, while our artillery worked and prepared posi- 
 tions for further attack the next day. What fol- 
 lowed seemed easy until we were before the village 
 of St. Etienne, when the Germans, having received 
 replacements, made it hot for us. By attacking 
 savagely we held the ground we had gained and de- 
 stroyed the enemy forces confronting us. 
 
 The success of this great offensive was due largely 
 to the military genius of Major General John A. 
 Lejeune of the Marines, during which the wooded 
 hill of Blanc Mont was stormed and held, St. Etienne 
 taken and when the Germans were forced to fall back 
 before Rheims, thereby yielding the positions they 
 had held for four years. 
 
 We were relieved by the Seventy-sixth Division 
 and while going to the rear we gathered up and 
 buried our dead comrades. We countermarched 
 through the field where in our recent advance the 
 mine crater had wrought such havoc to our men, 
 picking our way on boards that had been laid over 
 the gaping surface rather than change our course 
 and perhaps pass over another inferno. 
 
 Brigade headquarers was soon established once 
 again at Suippes and we were assigned as Fourth 
 French Army Reserves. We remained in this vicin- 
 ity for a few days, resting and refitting, when we 
 marched to the area north of Chalons-sur-Marne 
 with headquarters at Bouy. While here we were 
 
 72 
 
placed provisionally at the disposal of the Ninth 
 French Army Corps, temporarily detached from the 
 Second Division, and marched to another area. In 
 obedience to orders we next hiked to the vicinity of 
 Leffincourt and when about to take over the sector 
 assigned to us we received orders to rejoin the Sec- 
 ond Division, which was preparing to enter the 
 Meuse-Argonne offensive. 
 
 Then followed a long hard march over mountains, 
 facing cutting winds and often sleeping wet and cold 
 in rat-infested barracks that had percolating roofs. 
 Our only diversions during this march were when we 
 came upon some American negro troops who had 
 been removing German shells from the battlefields of 
 1914. They were just emerging from an old dugout 
 where they had found a piano. The impulse to jazz 
 or rag a Dixie melody had been irresistable and when 
 one of them struck a cord upon the keyboard there 
 had followed a terrific explosion, killing several of 
 them, and, also, when a German airplane was shot 
 down by our artillery. The aviator kept his finger 
 on his machine gun as he dropped head first, shoot- 
 ing all the while into our ranks, killing and wound- 
 ing over sixty men. Although disabled this daring 
 ace landed his machine right side up and when he 
 started to run it is needless to say he had taken his 
 last flight. 
 
 Eventually we arrived in the area south of Exer- 
 mont where we bivouacked until we moved forward 
 
 73 
 
into line to participate in the Meuse-Argonne offen- 
 sive, relieving elements of the Forty-second Division, 
 just south of Londres-et-St. Georges. 
 
 Hallowe'en, associated in our minds with goblins 
 and spooks, had barely merged its mystic shadows 
 into the dawn of another day and month when we 
 sent over a terrific artillery barrage that lasted for 
 six hours. Then came a machine gun barrage, the 
 zero hour, and, quick as a flash we had rushed on 
 about a kilometer through the barbed wire while 
 rockets lit our way. It was here we fought one of 
 our hardest battles with terrific loss, but we broke 
 through the lines. In our advance we found a dug- 
 out plenteously stored with black bread and honey, 
 and having been human orchids for so long, feeding 
 on the air, we fell upon it like ravenous wolves, 
 cleaning up every crumb of the bread and licking 
 our fingers clean of the sticky luscious honey. 
 
 On the first day the Second Division, including the 
 Marine Brigade, had not only cleared the defense of 
 Landres-et-St. Georges and the Bois-de-Hazois but 
 we continued our advance to the vicinity of Fosse, 
 going against not only the permanent but the reliev- 
 ing forces in our front. Then followed our attack 
 and seizure of the enemy's line of defense on the 
 ridge southeast of Vaux-en-Dieulet. Later we de- 
 feated the enemy on the border of Belval Forest and 
 then pressed forward in a heavy rain through the 
 forest and occupied a position on the heights 
 
 74 
 
south of Beaumont. We finally occupied Beaumont 
 and Letanne and threw the enemy on its front across 
 the Meuse to where we had now advanced with 
 orders to cross it and seize the commanding position 
 the Germans held on its eastern bank. 
 
 The Second Engineers, who were an element of 
 our division, in the face of a heavy artillery and ma- 
 chine gun fire, hastily threw a pontoon bridge across 
 the river, which was blown up, but with rare skill, 
 endurance and courage they quickly built another. 
 Over it we rushed until the enemy fire became too hot 
 and destructive, when many of us jumped from it 
 and pulled our way to the shore hand over hand 
 along its side. We drove on until the morning of 
 November 11th, when at 11 o'clock it was announced 
 that an armistice had been signed. Hostilities were 
 stopped and the last shot had been fired. 
 
 Among the many commendations that followed we 
 quote this one : 
 
 Headquarters Second Division (Regular) Amer- 
 ican Expeditionary Forces 
 Order 
 France, November 12, 1918. 
 On the night of November 10th heroic deeds were 
 done by heroic men. In the face of a heavy artillery 
 and withering machine gun fire, the Second Engi- 
 neers threw two foot bridges across the Meuse and 
 the First and Second Battalions of the Fifth Marines 
 crossed resolutely and unflinchingly to the east bank 
 and carried out their mission. In the last battle of 
 the war, as in all others in which this division has 
 participated, it enforced its will on the enemy. 
 (Signed) John A. Lejeune, 
 
 Major General, U. S. M. C, Commanding. 
 
 75 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 The Army of Occupation 
 
 E were not surprised when it 
 was announced that an armis- 
 tice had been signed by the Ger- 
 mans and although we had ex- 
 pected that the Allied offensive 
 would be carried further into Ger- 
 many, perhaps against Berlin, it 
 was better to thus spare any fur- 
 ther human slaughter and devasta- 
 tion. 
 It had been noted in a recent communique that 
 the Germans admitted the Hindenburg line was 
 broken, and, despite their stubborn resistance in the 
 Argonne, they would have been mad men not to have 
 realized that those rugged, fearless, nimble Yanks 
 whom they said could not fight were contributing 
 largely to their final defeat. It was not alone the 
 work of the intrepid Second Division that forced this 
 conviction upon them but the various elements of 
 every division in the American Expeditionary Forces 
 engaged in this stupendous struggle had also repeat- 
 edly emphasized this fact, and, what greater evidence 
 need the world require of American determination 
 than when a battalion of the Seventy-seventh Di- 
 vision, becoming entirely cut off for three days from 
 other units of the division, was surrounded by the 
 old Landwehr from Wurttenburg, and when sum- 
 
 77 
 
moned by them to surrender, although this lost bat- 
 talion was up against every variety of furious attack, 
 the answer was "Go to Hell!" 
 
 From the heights on the Meuse we could now hear 
 the Germans, about one kilometer away, celebrating 
 the armistice. Bands played all night and bonfires 
 blended into the aurora of another day. Doubt and 
 caution still controlled us, however, and with all our 
 outposts placed we watched and waited,, expecting 
 them to come back and make a drive upon us. 
 
 Again, and for the last time, we gathered and 
 buried the dead, picked up salvage, cleaned a battle- 
 field, and in due time were ready for our long hike 
 into Germany. 
 
 Within two days we had crossed into Belgium 
 where this study, brave nation that had said so de- 
 fiantly to the "All Highest" "You shall not pass" 
 welcomed us with open arms. When we thought of 
 their suffering, the revolting outrages they had been 
 subjected to, and saw the irretrievable loss and stu- 
 pendous destruction inflicted upon these humble, 
 wholesome people during the past four years, our 
 hearts went out to them. Lattice arches covered 
 with flowers were erected for us to march under, 
 jazz bands were organized for our delight and streets 
 were converted into dance halls. Nothing was too 
 good for us, in fact, the Belgians even offered to give 
 up their homes to us in order that we might enjoy 
 the luxury of sleeping in real beds. We were sorry 
 
 78 
 
when we parted from them and felt it a privilege to 
 have contributed towards their deliverance. 
 
 For a while now there was a repetition of events, 
 and when Thanksgiving Day came naturally our 
 minds reverted to home. Not alone did our imagina- 
 tion revel in the aroma of a home-cooked feast, but 
 we knew that from pulpits and rostrums throughout 
 our own, our native land, there was being delivered 
 eulogies and from choir lofts songs of praise were 
 ascending in thanksgiving for the end of war. 
 
 No hearty greeting was accorded us through Lux- 
 emburg. There was no cheering,, no smiling here, 
 but there was no defiance. 
 
 Replacements recently arrived in France had 
 joined us and it was like getting a letter from home 
 to hear all that they told us relative to the States. 
 Our companies were now filled up to standard and 
 we took up the last lap of our march, crossing the 
 Rhine about the middle of December. 
 
 During this long march brigade headquarters was 
 successively established at Margut, Bellefontaine, 
 Arlon, Usseldange, Berg, Eppeldorf, Neuerburgh, 
 Waxv/eiler, Prum, Budeshein, Wiesbaum, Antweiler, 
 Neuenahr, Burgbrohl, Rheinbrohl, and Honningen. 
 During the greater part of the occupation of Ger- 
 many headquarters of the Fourth Brigade was at 
 Neider Bieber,. excepting when just prior to Ger- 
 many signing the peace treaty it was at Herschbach. 
 
 Our divisional headquarters was at Neuweid, over 
 
 79 
 
the roads of which Csesar and his legions rode in 55 
 B. C. to subdue the barbaric tribes then inhabiting 
 it. It was incorporated as a city in 1653 and was 
 pillaged in 1673 by the armies of the French and 
 Hollanders. In 1792 it was invaded by Napoleon 
 and in 1870 as in this world war it was the central 
 recruiting station for the Reserve Battalions; but 
 now Old Glory and the Globe, Anchor and Eagle 
 (device of the U. S. Marine Corps) floated over it in 
 temporary occupancy while the Prussian Eagle 
 moulted. The entire division covered considerable 
 area and each unit was not long in getting settled. 
 The men were billeted with the inhabitants in many 
 towns, a rifle range was built, company mess halls 
 were erected and on the lawn surrounding those of 
 the Marines they worked out in stone the design of 
 the Star and Indian, Corps badge of the Second 
 Division, and also the device of the United States 
 Marine Corps. Although hostilities had ceased we 
 were an army in the enemy's country. Discipline 
 had to be maintained, vigilence exercised and frater- 
 nizing was inconsistent. 
 
 Our principal duty was to man a Rhine River 
 patrol. Our mornings were devoted to drills, exer- 
 cises in tactics and caring for our equipment, but 
 the Germans were so saturated with militarism that 
 only a superior feat could make them notice. This 
 was supplied to them when the Second Engineers 
 broke all records and bridged the Rhine at Honnin- 
 
 80 
 
gen with pontoons in 581/2 minutes. Because of the 
 swift current here the Germans had always thought 
 the Rhine could not be bridged at this point, and in 
 other places where they had bridged it previously 
 themselves their best record was about four hours. 
 Our afternoons were devoted to relaxation, rest, 
 amusement, study, athletics or an excursion on the 
 Rhine, as far up as the Lorelei Rock, or as far down 
 as Bonn, everything free, as you glided by castles 
 and objects of interest while a lecturer narrated 
 their history. Leave centers were established at 
 various towns where shelter, food and entertainment 
 were supplied to us, and at some of these there were 
 famous mineral baths, where kings and other poten- 
 tates, yea, even Wilhelm and Willie, had splashed in 
 royal tubs; but now they were being polluted by 
 those Devil Dogs, Ach Gott! 
 
 Reading and writing rooms were also maintained 
 at these leave centers by the Red Cross, Knights of 
 Columbus, Salvation Army and Y. M. C. A. God 
 bless them all for the spendid work they did both 
 here and on the battlefields of France ! Schools were 
 established and each man had an opportunity to ad- 
 vance himself in some chosen course that would bene- 
 fit him later in civil life. Beside the rudiments of 
 education instructions were given in many trades 
 and semi-professions. 
 
 Sports of all kind were indulged in, football, base- 
 ball, boxing and swimming. There were company 
 
 81 
 
teams, battalion teams and divisional teams, and in 
 all these contests the Marines lived up to tradition. 
 The older Germans would watch our games of base- 
 ball, listen to our yells and kidding, survey a fan, 
 then shrug their shoulders in disgust and say "Those 
 fool Americans !" But the German children watched, 
 imitated and soon learned to play. Their young 
 lives, however, were crowded with more serious 
 things. We saw them at the tender age of five or six 
 years going through all kinds of military drills, and 
 if they failed to execute the commands correctly and 
 quickly they were reprimanded in no gentle manner. 
 
 Four events stand out as notable during these days 
 when we occupied Germany. The first anniversary 
 of the Battle of Belleau Wood was a gala occasion, 
 when amid festivities our esteemed Divisional Com- 
 mander, General Lejeune, sent us a message of felici- 
 tation from the sky. On the Fourth of July we had 
 a never-to-be-forgotten celebration when among 
 other pyrotechnic stunts we set off so many smoke 
 bombs on the top of a hill that the inhabitants fled 
 for their lives, thinking it was gas. Equally as mem- 
 orable were the reviews of General Pershing and 
 Secretary of the Navy Daniels, for these were epoch- 
 making days, when brave Americans were decorated 
 on a plateau over which the crack German Eighth 
 Corps had maneuvered many times before their lord 
 and master, by divine right. Kaiser William II. 
 
 Every pay day the boys loaded up with souvenirs 
 
 82 
 
of all kinds and if you happened to have any soap or 
 chocolate, the Germans would barter almost any- 
 thing in exchange for them. What we missed most, 
 next to home, was tobacco. It was so scarce that 
 many a man paid $5.00 for a bag of Bull Durham, 
 and butts of Piedmonts, Camels or Fatimas were at 
 a premium. Only those who went through the death 
 mill can realize how big a bit tobacco did in helping 
 one to forget how long and tedious was a march, how 
 one inhale got you by the darkest moment in life, 
 and how the "makings" from a buddie welded a com- 
 radeship as tender as it was manly. 
 
 Even with all this diversity of duty and attrac- 
 tion every man had the homesick blues, and yearned 
 for the day when he'd land in some American har- 
 bor. The 12th of July had been set for the Germans 
 to sign the peace terms and in case they should back 
 down we marched further into Germany and formed 
 our lines ready for a further advance. Subordina- 
 tion was the result and we marched back to our for- 
 mer camp, where we turned in all our excess sup- 
 plies, loaded on trains July 17th for Brest, France, 
 and evacuated Germany. 
 
 83 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Home Again 
 
 OING home! How good it 
 sounded after all the false ru- 
 mors and postponements of this 
 happy event since the armis- 
 tice, for home now meant mora 
 than a pile of bricks and mortar, 
 more than a shingle roof and con- 
 structed timber. It meant, not 
 alone the joy of rushing into out- 
 stretched loving arms but it also meant America 
 whic^we now loved more than ever, and time could 
 not speed up fast enough to land us there. We were 
 soon out of Germany and once again passing over 
 the old battlefields of France, taking a last look 
 at the scars upon nature and the havoc wrought 
 upon many of man's choicest creations. 
 
 Summer was at its height, and where only a few 
 months before hordes of warring troops crushed 
 every sprouting thing beneath their feet, and where 
 shells cut deep into turf or tree, a new life had 
 arisen. Birds had nested in the cannon's mouth 
 and crawling things, not long since frightened by 
 barrage and bomb fire had ventured forth again. 
 The sun seemed redder than before and fields of pop- 
 pies bowed their scarlet heads as we rode along. 
 Could it be, you thought, that the gore of legions 
 
 85 
 
slaughtered here had bloomed to cheer the living! 
 But the rows of white crosses ! What memories they 
 brought of many a buddie who had roughed it with 
 you, clean through from the boot camp, when you 
 were rookies together. How you shared your hard- 
 ships and your dangers. How each gave to the other 
 more than half share of his blanket, and how, in the 
 long weary marches, you leaned alternately on each 
 other as a prop when fagged. The joy of sharing 
 fifty-fifty in your boxes from home, the exchange of 
 confidences, all loomed up before you as you realized 
 you were going home where love and joy awaited you, 
 while they were left behind buried in a distant rest 
 camp. 
 
 Perhaps a Marine is not supposed to have senti- 
 ment but man is a complex creature; frequently a 
 combination of contradictory opposites, oftimes so 
 ugly that he is handsome, as cruel as he is tender, a 
 dainty Dresden china lion or a sugar tiger sweet 
 enough to hang on any Christmas tree,, capable of 
 wading through volcanic barrages or sipping pink 
 tea, and his emotions run the gamut from a roaring 
 lion to a bleating lamb. So, being human, the mist 
 of held back tears clouded the eyes of many as we 
 waved farewell to the nodding poppies and our de- 
 parted buddies under them. 
 
 Four nights and three days of travel brought us 
 to Brest, from where we were to sail for home. A 
 great many Marines had been returned from Europe 
 
 86 
 
in small detachments ahead of the Fourth Brigade, 
 since the armistice had become operative, and it was 
 not until September that the company forming a part 
 of the Composite Regiment, Third Army, had been 
 returned and late in December when the Fifteenth 
 Separate Battalion of U. S. Marines were back again 
 in America. 
 
 The voyage homeward was uneventful and after 
 landing at Hoboken, N. J., we were transferred in 
 boats to Long Island and entrained for Camp Mills, 
 N. Y. Then followed a parade in New York City on 
 August 8th when we were given an ovation by the 
 metropolis. A day later we were back once more at 
 Quantico, mid the green fields of old Virginia, where 
 we got our training before going overseas and where 
 during the period of the war approximately 40,000 
 Marines had been handled by about 1,000 officers. 
 
 In the process of demobilization the Marine 
 Brigade was now detached from the Army and re- 
 stored to the control of the Navy Department, as 
 shown by the following : 
 
 War Department, August 12, 1919, 
 
 Hon. Josephus Daniels, 
 
 Secretary of the Navy. 
 My Dear Mr. Secretary : 
 
 In the process of demobilization, the Marine 
 Brigade, which by the President's order became a 
 part of the American Expeditionary Forces and was 
 thus a part of the forces under the control of the 
 War Department and under the command of General 
 
 87 
 
Pershing, has now been returned to this country, 
 detached from the Army, and restored to the control 
 of the Navy Department. 
 
 I cannot permit this heroic force to terminate its 
 association with the Army without expressing to 
 you, and through you to the officers and men of the 
 Marine Corps, the deep sentiment of the War De- 
 partment and of the Army toward it. The whole 
 history of the Brigade in France is one of conspic- 
 uous service; when it was finally incorporated into 
 the Second Division of the American Army it had 
 early an opportunity to give a heroic demonstration 
 of the unconquerable tenacity and dauntless courage 
 of American soldiers. From then on in successive, 
 almost continuous, battles the Marine Brigade and 
 the division of which it was a part fought sternly 
 and successfully until victory was obtained for the 
 Allied Armies. Throughout this long contest the 
 Marines, both by their valor and their tragic losses, 
 heroically sustained, added an imperishable chapter 
 to the history of America's participation in the 
 World War. 
 
 On behalf of the Army I congratulate the Navy 
 Department, the Major General commanding the 
 Marines, those who have been instrumental in the 
 formation and training of this splendid organization, 
 and the officers and men of the organization itself. 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 Newton D. Baker. 
 
 In reply Acting Secretary Roosevelt said : 
 
 Hon. Newton D. Baker, 
 
 Secretary of War, Washington, D. C. 
 Dear Mr. Secretary : 
 
 Your very cordial letter and the tribute it bore to 
 the Fourth Brigade of Marines was received with 
 pleasure and deepest appreciation. The heroism of 
 the Marines and the Regulars in the famous Second 
 Division, and their sacrifices,, have endeared them to 
 
 88 
 
all Americans, and it is with very pardonable pride 
 that we welcome them back to the Navy. 
 
 The spirit of cordial co-operation between the 
 Army and Navy was never better manifested than 
 in the participation of these Marines in the great 
 battles in France under the command of General 
 Pershing as a part of the United States Army, and 
 shoulder to shoulder with units of the Regular Army. 
 It is with extreme gratification that we can look back 
 upon this unbroken co-operation between our two 
 departments that started at the time the first Navy 
 ship carried troops to France and continued unin- 
 terruptedly through to the end. 
 
 On behalf of Secretary Daniels, the Commandant 
 of the Marine Corps, the officers and men of that 
 organization, I wish to thank you for the sentiments 
 expressed in your letter and convey to you our ap- 
 preciation of the heroism of the officers and men of 
 the Army who with the Marines made the Second 
 Division one of the greatest fighting organizations 
 the world has ever known. 
 
 It is very gratifying in our pride over the achieve- 
 ments of the Marines, to know that that pride is 
 shared by the War Department and your warm ap- 
 probation of their conduct as a part of the Army 
 will be treasured by the Corps as well as by the 
 individuals. 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, 
 Acting Secretary of the Navy. 
 
 Then came our parade in Washington, D. C, on 
 August 12th, when we marched up historic Penn- 
 sylvania Avenue 8,000 strong through lines of cheer- 
 ing patriots and were reviewed in front of the White 
 House by President Wilson, General March and Gen- 
 eral Barnett, who was Commandant of the U. S. 
 Marine Corps at that time. 
 
 89 
 
But the gaps in our ranks told a mute story. Our 
 divisional casualties had been about ten per cent 
 of the total casualties of the American Expeditionary- 
 Forces, but we had the proud distinction of having 
 advanced more kilometers, and of capturing more 
 prisoners and cannon than any other division. 
 
 After returning to our barracks a farewell speech 
 was delivered by our Divisional Commander, Gen- 
 eral Lejeune, later Commandant of the U. S. Marine 
 Corps, which was followed by demobilization, when 
 those who were not transferred to other detachments 
 entered civil life again and hastened to their re- 
 spective homes. And, today, whether we veterans 
 of the incomparable World War gather together as 
 civilians, in shop, office or mill, around the village 
 pump or in barracks as re-enlisted men in some 
 branch of our Country's service, it is interesting 
 to note the dispassionate review of each division's 
 record in the great conflict. The only summary is 
 that it was a wonderful aggregation of the flower 
 of American manhood, and that every Division in 
 the American Expeditionary Forces, in combination 
 with the excellently trained forces of our Allies, was 
 an indomitable power that hammered the Germans 
 back. Praise, honor and glory to them all; the In- 
 fantry, Artillery and Machine Gun Battalions; the 
 Engineers, Train and Military Police; the Ammu- 
 nition, Sanitary and Supply Trains; the Signal 
 Corps, Ordnance Repair and Veterinarians; the 
 
 90 
 
Motor Truck, Salvage, Quartermaster and Mobile 
 Surgical Corps ; the fearless Red Cross Men, Nurses 
 and Chaplains ; the zealous K. of C, Y. M. C. A. and 
 Salvation Army workers; the brawny Navy Gun- 
 ners ; the humane gobs,, those Navy "Docs" who gave 
 us first aid and held the last draught to many a 
 dying comrade's lips, the Runners, Orderlies and 
 Clerks in Base Hospitals; the Clothing, Bath, Laun- 
 dry, Mess and Bakery Units; yea, and hats off to 
 the poor dumb beasts, the dogs, horses and mules 
 that bore and helped us on to victory. 
 
 What a wonderful thing it is for any man to have 
 come through it all without being even scratched or 
 to have survived, as one did, after having been 
 wounded eighteen times, and who are better quali- 
 fied than we who have stood upon the threshold of 
 eternity to answer if we are better men because of 
 this. We know we are. We know that our suffering, 
 and our sacrifices have brought us closer to our fel- 
 lowman. We know better now how to reverence age, 
 how to control our desires, how to respect constituted 
 authority, how to help ourselves and how to lend a 
 helping hand to the oppressed. While we always 
 thought we loved America first we are doubly sure 
 of it now, and imbedded with this love is the pardon- 
 able pride of having been one of the immortal Second 
 Division, of having upheld the traditions of the 
 Marine Corps, which since 1775 has been "Always 
 Faithful," and, if there be cause in the future we 
 will respond to our Country's call again ! 
 
 91 
 
Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Ojdde 
 Treatment Date: ^f({ ZUUl 
 
 PreservationTechnologies 
 
 A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 
 
 111 Thomson Park Drive 
 Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
 (724)779-2111 
 

 9y