In France 
 
 with 
 
 Battery F. 305th F. A. 
 
 Dedicated to Captain 
 
 JAMES LLOYD DERBY 
 
 Copyrighted 
 By BEN JACOBSON 
 
 /./: 
 
3 57^ 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Words shall be few and explanations less in this little diary. 
 However, the author does want it understood that his disproportion- 
 ate sense of humor has overbalanced all other things in these ac- 
 counts. He regrets that it has been impossible to mention everybody 
 in this book. Only those who have been more or less incorrigible 
 or spasmodically amusing will find themselves in the limelight, while 
 the names of a great many heroes in our battery will forever remain 
 unsung. 
 
 In the first place, this little book would ne'er have been were it 
 not that it rained continually in France following the armistice and 
 that we held drills daily and relentlessly in those rains. The birth 
 of this little book is due directly to the fact that by creating it the 
 author could dodge, avoid, or be excused from the majority of these 
 "wet" formations, which were the bane of our existence in France 
 after the signing of the armistice. 
 
 The historical data contained herein are facts — the stories perhaps 
 so. The book is a great deal shorter than the author ever intended it 
 should be. He could not relate all individual happenings, and many 
 an interesting story had to be left out. His aim will have been 
 achieved, if, from this meager history the personel of the battery 
 can individually recall their own personal adventures and trials, 
 brought to mind in this general way, and in relating their stories, 
 clothe and adorn them, each in his own imaginative speech. 
 
 B.J. 
 
 ©CI.A559096 
 
Off For France 
 
 Not with the sound of bugles, not with bands playing and stand- 
 ards unfurled, but in the still of the night with packs and full equip- 
 ment, and our every move concealed, we began that memorable 
 march "for Berlin." 
 
 At 2.00 A. M. Thursday, April 25th, there was a half-hushed 
 blast of the first sergeant's whistle and all men started from their 
 resting places on the floor of the clean swept barracks. As they formed 
 in column outside, speaking in whispers, there was not a word of dis- 
 content. We were a happy, bustling bunch. A delay of an hour be- 
 fore starting, and then began a slow, grinding march to the Camp 
 Upton Terminal. Everyone was litered with packages. Boxes of 
 cigarettes, cakes, and articles never used were tied to the long heavy 
 packs and rolls on our backs. In the rear of the column marched a 
 slow solemn procession ; a stretcher carried by four men and contain- 
 ing one Jimmie Houlihan with badly bent and twisted ankle received 
 the day previous in a victorious basketball melee. Halts on the march 
 were frequent as the 1st Battalion was entraining. The cars were 
 boarded at 5.00 A. M. and fifteen minutes later they pulled out. Packs 
 were piled on top of men and men on top of packs. There was scarcely 
 room in which to breathe. Those near the windows were the lucky 
 ones, and some hung half way out to get the fresh air. Still, everyone 
 was in good spirits, and with difficulty the Sergeants in charge of 
 each car restrained the men from singing, and, as the cars swung 
 madly through each little hamlet, and the groups of villagers would 
 wave and cheer, there burst a yell from every throat, and quickly the 
 Sergeants would put an end to the racket. As our destination was 
 neared, a lieutenant came through the cars, and, discovering the guidon 
 unfurled and showing through one of the rear windows, hastily bade 
 the holder to cover it at once — ^with it's simple message to the world : 
 
 Battery F, 305 F. A.. 
 
 Long Island City was reached at 7.30 A. M., where the ferry 
 "Manhattan Beach" lay in dock. On the trip around lower New York 
 and into the North River no cheering or waving was permitted. When 
 Hoboken was reached, there was a final check and roll call. One by 
 one, in alphabetical order, the boys went up the gang-plank and stepped 
 on deck the U.S. S. "Von Steuben," the renamed German Auxiliary 
 Cruiser "Kronprinz Wilhelm II." The Red Cross women worked 
 feverishly along the line of boys on the pier, distributing hot coffee 
 and buns and a pack of cigarettes to each. 
 
 We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon writing our safe 
 ( ?) arrival cards and watching the hurried loading of the ship. It 
 was a hot, stuflfy night below decks in our crowded sleeping quarters, 
 and, not enough hammocks to go 'round for everybody, some of us 
 had to be S. O. L. and slept on the floor. 
 
 Friday, the 26th, was a bright, sunny day and we could now look 
 around and get our bearings. We were at Pier I, North German 
 Lloyd Line. The old familiar buildings of lower New York were 
 plainly visible to us, and what would we have not given to have been 
 able to telephone over and say "Good-bye" to the ones we loved dearly. 
 
The ship's crew were busy all day, scrubbing decks and polishing her 
 guns. She carried four 5-inch guns, ten 3-inch, four one-pounders, 
 and two 3-inch anti-aircraft, twenty guns in all. Her passenger list 
 consisted of 1107 men and 27 officers. 
 
 Late in the afternoon came the order "Everybody below decks," 
 and we were all locked in, hatches down. At 5.30 P. M. we pulled 
 out of the dock silently, with no blowing of ship' swhistle — bound for 
 France! We were convoying the "Northern Pacific" transporting our 
 1st Battalion, and together the two ships passed through the harbor 
 and out into the ocean, keeping abreast in the broad expanse, about a 
 thousand yards apart. 
 
 No lights were permitted and all in all it was an uncomfortable 
 night for everyone except the officers. How we wished we had gone 
 to Plattsburg. Staterooms for each one, and their meals were of the 
 finest, silver dishes and cutlery adorning their tables. And as for 
 us, we had to stand in line for an hour or more perhaps, to be served 
 our mess, and would then climb somewhere upon the deck, where the 
 wind would blow our bread overboard, or the ashes from the ship's 
 funnels get into the stew. 
 
 Saturday was a quiet day, wonderful weather. Our first lifeboat 
 drill was held at 1 P. M. and we were all issued cotton-filled life- 
 jackets to be worn at all times, even when sleeping. About forty men 
 began the Lookout Guard at 4 P. M. to watch for submarines and 
 mines from every part of the ship. 
 
 Sunday found a great many of the boys seasick, and it also found 
 us dirty. By Jupiter ! it was tough to keep clean in that miserable 
 hole, and no water to wash in except saltwater. When it came to 
 shaving, if the barber shop was too busy, the drinking water in our 
 canteens answered the purpose. As there was a guard placed at the 
 drinking cooler to see no one wasted any fresh water, or took any to 
 shave or wash with, we had a pretty lively time dodging him with a 
 little unauthorized issue in our mess cup. 
 
 We ran into rather heavy seas on Monday and a strong north wind. 
 Pretty rough and nearly everybody sick. Boat drills went on regu- 
 larly every day, however, and our "Lookout Guard" Corporals were 
 pretty busily engaged chasing all over the boat to find some soldiers 
 who had weathered the storm sufficiently well to take the places of 
 the sick ones in the lookout booths. Kingston, with a red band on 
 his sleeve, had a hell of a time trying to rout out the desired parties 
 for details. It was more like a game of hide-and-seek, as everybody 
 dodged him when they saw him coming, and he roamed ceaselessly 
 from one end of the boat to the other. 
 
 Monday was quiet compared to the pitching and rolling of the 
 ship on Tuesday. The sailors endeavored earnestly to relieve the 
 sufferings of the seasick soldiers. To some of us it was a week of 
 terrified agony, mingled with an acute desire for an instantaneous 
 death. Poor Gee Tung was a sorrowful spectacle. The courtesies 
 and kindness of the crew to us on that trip will never be forgotten — 
 'twas like the gentle cheerfulness of a Red Cross nurse. 
 
 Again on Wednesday we encountered high seas and stiff winds, and 
 after more boat drills we were mustered in, it being May first. Then 
 the officers would take turns reading to us several columns on Gov- 
 ernmental Censorship, Articles of War, and lots of other bunk. The 
 majority of us listened to it all with pain in our faces and nothing in 
 
our stomachs. We entered the Submarine Zone about 4 P. M. and 
 began zigzagging. For two hours at twilight all hands remained above 
 decks. 
 
 This was repeated just before dawn the next morning, pursuant 
 to orders, and we sat around on deck from 3.30 A. M. to 5.30. The 
 sun poked its nose out for an hour or so Thursday morning, but was 
 lost soon in the black clouds rolling up on our starboard. Plenty of 
 rain in the afternoon, and again our two unpleasant hours above decks 
 waiting patiently and merrily to be torpedoed. 
 
 The sun came out to stay Friday morning, and the sea was fairly 
 calm. All signs of seasickness among the boys disappeared, and as 
 the morning went on the sea became more and more gentle. At 8 
 A. M. we sighted smoke on the horizon, and in fifteen minutes we 
 were close enough to discern with the naked eye our little protectors 
 of the sea, five American destroyers. They darted in and out and 
 around the ship, and then spread out in fan-shape to our right and left. 
 
 We were ordered to pack up towards evening, as we expected to 
 make port by morning. We were all on deck as usual at 3.30 A. M. 
 Saturday, but all hopes of making the harbor in the morning were 
 gone. It was dangerously foggy. Early in the day we narrowly 
 missed running down one of the destroyers. Twice we tried to make 
 the harbor while the fog lifted a bit, but both times it immediately 
 after became denser than ever, and the ship pointed its nose away 
 from land travelled in circles. We lost our consort for one hour and 
 it was only about noon when it became clear that we were again 
 together, with a great many French destroyers, and more American 
 added to our convoy. Land was sighted at 1.30 P. M. 
 
 Never will we forget the view of the port of Brest with the old 
 stone fortresses on steep promentories booming its welcome salute to 
 us as we steamed up the harbor. We were met by American aero- 
 planes, a French dirigible and English submarines. It was a perfect 
 Spring day and the hills enclosing the port were gloriously tinted with 
 various colored foliage. We anchored at 4 P. M. and amused our- 
 selves as long at it was daylight, and that was until 9 P. M., by 
 pitching our nickles and dimes to the French stevedores on a barge 
 moored alongside, and watching them scramble frantically for the 
 coins. No one was allowed shore leave except Lieutenant Nissley; 
 and it has always remained a matter of great debate to the entire 
 battery as to just what he did ashore that night. 
 
 Sunday they recoaled the ship. Everybody got more or less black- 
 ened from the clouds of dust that settled over everything aboard. 
 Wonderful souvenir booklets of Brest views were sold on ship, and 
 we all bought copies at fifty cents a throw and mailed them home, 
 thinking in this way we could beat the censor and let the folks know 
 just where we were in France. But the censor fooled us, after having 
 said they would be O.K.'d, for nary a booklet reached its destination. 
 
 Sunday morning, May the 6th, we were aroused bright and early. 
 Inspection on board and then landed on French soil at 9.15 A. M. 
 amid the cheers of the sailors and the playing of the ship's band. We 
 then marched in the boiling hot sun with full packs to the Pontanezen 
 Barracks, three miles from the port. At every stop along the road 
 we were beseiged with French children asking for "monnaie" and 
 "Americaine cigarette." What little clothes the kids wore were of a 
 cheap black cotton material. Boys and girls alike dressed in thin 
 
loose smocks and wooden shoes. Those who did not ask for cig- 
 arettes beg-ged for our biscuits and rations carried on our packs. Our 
 first impression of France was one of poverty and starvation. 
 
 Our so-called "rest camp" was reached at noon. It was an old 
 walled camp of Napoleon, and we considered ourselves lucky by not 
 being housed in the antique barracks. Instead, we were put in large 
 squad tents. We nearly froze to death at night, as it turned extremely 
 cold. 
 
 The next morning we were up before daybreak, sitting around the 
 kitchen fires to keep warm. Orders were suddenly received to leave 
 our rest camp. At 10 A. M. we were on our hike back again over 
 the road we came up yesterday. The railroad station was on the out- 
 skirts of Brest. It was here that we were initiated into the wiles and 
 witcheries of corned willy and 'twas here we had our first nip of 
 "Vin ordinaire," "cognac" and "benedictine." And praise be to Allah, 
 what a long nip it was ! All the way from Brest to Bordeaux that 
 "nip" lasted — something around forty hours. Maybe the civilians 
 didn't soak us for smuggling the stuff aboard the train. For many a 
 bottle of "vin" worth about two francs we had to shell out a nice 
 crisp two dollar bill. But 'twas well worth the price, for half the 
 misery of that nightmare ride was forgotten with the aid of those 
 bottles. 
 
 We were crowded as all other troops were, into the proverbial 
 French box car with the sign "40 Hommes ou 8 Chevaux." Some 
 cars held 45 men and had but one little opening about two feet square 
 for ventilation. At 2.20 P. M. the train pulled out. We passed 
 through Landerneau, Chateaulinm, Quimper and Rosporden before 
 night set in. Our old horse cars of twenty years ago went faster than 
 the imitation engines we had. And just when the train started to 
 make good time, about 10 P. M., our "frog" brakeman fell off. We 
 thought we would have to dynamite the train to stop it. There was 
 no way of com.municating the loss of our valuable brakeman to the 
 engineer, so we yelled and tooted the bugles and one sergeant fired a 
 few shots from his revolver. The engineer was finally convinced some- 
 thing had happened when someone who could talk not a word of 
 French crawled out of and over the cars to his box and made wild 
 motions. The train was stopped on a side track about five miles from 
 the scene of the accident. We waited patiently while the engine was 
 run back and gather in our frightened but unhurt brakeman. 
 
 We stretched our legs a bit at Nantes where we arrived at 7 A. M. 
 Wednesday. The French Red Cross served us black coffee in our 
 mess tins, and at first it had a horrible taste. Then some genius dis- 
 covered it was the cognac flavor from the barrels which contained the 
 coffee. Immediately there was a rush for "seconds" and "thirds." We 
 quickly bought out the lunch room at the station and the old ladies 
 were so excited over getting such extravagant prices for their wares 
 that not one of us bothered to pay for the drinks they dished out. Dur- 
 ing the day we passed through Glisson, La Roche-Sur-Yon, Lucon, 
 Rochefort-Sur-mer, and Saintes. 
 
 Again followed an enjoyable half suffocating night in our delight- 
 ful roomy and clean box cars. At 3 A. M. we were at the railroad 
 station in Bordeaux. To cheer us up we were served "hot coffee' that 
 was black, tasteless and ice cold. 
 
A real American engine pulled our train to a point about twelve 
 miles north of Bordeaux called Bonneau. We detrained and hiked 
 along a good road for about two miles to our destination, Camp Souge. 
 The road was congested with huge American-built trucks carrying 
 supplies and our blue bags. It was here we had our first glimpse at 
 x^ ranee's famous goldbricks — Chinese coolies. What a mixture of 
 sloth, slovenness and slime. They were clothed in just enough gar- 
 ments to keep Anthony Comstock from serving a subpoena upon them. 
 Each was more curiously decorated than the other. They carried either 
 a raincoat or a parasol ; some held canary cages in hand ; others, tea- 
 pots ; more still were loaded with fresh vegetables ; and all wore the 
 oddest collection of head-gear from a milk maid's bonnet to a silk dress 
 hat. 
 
 Our barracks were fine, better than we had ever dreamt of. We 
 had latrines and even a shower bath. The day was spent getting our 
 wooden bunks together and filling bedsacks with straw. Everybody 
 had a good night's rest, the first in fourteen days. The night was 
 bitterly cold and damp, yet during the day it had been terribly hot. 
 During cur entire stay the weather was pretty much the same — a pene- 
 trating cold at night and from hot to boiling during the day. 
 
 The next couple of days passed by in cleaning equipment, resting 
 up and buying lots of eatables at the commissary and from the French 
 carts allowed within the camp limits. Our purchasing capacities were 
 enlarged bv changing at the Y. M. C. A. our good American money 
 into vast quantities of strange looking, tissue-papered francs, which we 
 all reluctantly did. Captain Mitchell announced we would stay here 
 for approximately two months — good guess, to the day — and by the 
 new schedule to take effect Monday we must arise at 5.30 A. M. have 
 but forty-five minutes apiece for breakfast and dinner and hold re- 
 treat at 5.30 P. M. Ten and a half hours of actual work — real in- 
 tensive training. 
 
 Saturday morning we were allowed outside the gate marking the 
 camp limits, to imbibe freely of stipulated light French vins only, in 
 "orderly" and well-chosen estamines. Fine ! We had everything, any- 
 where , 
 
 Nineteen men from the battery were given passes to Bordeaux, by 
 mistake reading for overnight. And, by their quiet, mannerly and 
 lady-like behavior, killed the act for all of us. 
 
 Sunday, May the 12th, was Mother's Day and, of course, everyone 
 more or less full of vin wrote letters sparkling with enthusiasm for 
 that wonderful part of France we were in, with its beautiful scenes 
 on the lake, and the days that would be light until 9.30 P. M, 
 
 The next day, however, started the process of squashing the senti- 
 ment and romance in our systems. A stiff schedule of drill periods; 
 school for the officers ; school for the enlisted specialists ; meals tasting 
 of horse meat — these were the things warranted and guaranteed to 
 knock out all sentimentality and artistic temperament from the tender- 
 est to the most stoic. 
 
 The artists chosen for telephone school consisted of Sergeant Mc- 
 Kenna (bless him). Corporals Dupree, Duckworth, Spiegel, Jacobson ; 
 Privates Houlihan, Brown, Stengren. The radio experts were Corpo- 
 ral Horton, Privates Carson and Fried. The "Wildcats" chosen for 
 machine gun instruction consisted of Corporal Skillmen and Privates 
 
Liebler, Kehoe, Sammler, Neuwerth, Rolke. All of the above details 
 were immediately set down by the remainder of the battery as qualified 
 A-1 "goldbricks." 
 
 The battery had its first gun drill. It was an exciting moment — 
 our first handling of a French "75." There was a medical inspection, 
 and five men were taken to the hospital ; two for scarlet fever, a couple 
 for measles and one for mumps^ 
 
 The week was a corker. Schools in the forenoon and drills in 
 the P. M., including close order in our famous sand fields under a 
 perfectly healthy and broiling hot sun. Wednesday we received our 
 first mail from the U. S., transferred from Camp Upton, and also the 
 bounteous assignment of four horses to the battery. Friday was the 
 day of the horse shoe nail found in the stew at noon, convincing all 
 disbelievers that we really were thriving on horse flesh. Immediately 
 there was a rush on the egg market resulting in a boost of a half 
 franc a dozen by the French peddlers quick to see that for some un- 
 known cause there had arisen a sudden urgent demand for their wares. 
 The bull market continued as, day by day, more and more men of the 
 more dubious sort were convinced of the presence of "horse meat" and 
 joined the ranks of the egg-eaters. It was luxurious living, but that 
 made no difference. At mess time the kitchen was jammed with so 
 many fellows frying eggs and making omelets a la Duckworth, that 
 Mess Sergeant Greenlee was certain he had now succeeded in reach- 
 ing that stage where he could afford to give a full portion of mess to 
 the rest of the battery waiting in line, and seconds, too, plentifully. 
 
 Corporal Dupree and five men, Privates Foray, Rosenzweig, Eddie 
 Miller, George Johnson and J. A. Williams, were quarantined in a 
 separate barracks being under a suspicion for contact with contagious 
 cases that had been sent to the hospital. 
 
 Saturday was a half holiday — drills in the morning and off in the 
 afternoon. Hot day, as usual, and quite a bunch went swimming in 
 the lake. Five more horses were assigned to the battery. Sunday was 
 a real rest, and plenty of time to wash clothes, write mail, and go 
 swimming in the lake. The estamines were very popular, particularly 
 one, where Sergeants Pohlman, McHenry and Garry were wont to 
 frequent. It was a little shack that had a thriving business, over- 
 flowing the premises and out into the backyard where tables and 
 wooden benches were set around. 'Way in the back was a well in 
 which the proprietor would keep cool his bottles of "vin." The 
 "Garry" bunch had the table nearest the well reserved for them, so 
 that while the proprietor was engaged in lowering a basket filled with 
 warm bottles to float in the ice-cold water of the well, they could 
 "salvage" about three cold bottles unbeknown to the proprietor, from 
 the basket he had just pulled up, and so get four bottles of "vin" for 
 two francs instead of only one bottle. 
 
 The one thing that stood out above all others during the week 
 May 19-25, with heartbreaking prominence, was the quarantininsr of 
 the battery and regiment, to the limits of the camp. This was due to 
 the alarming daily increase of contagious cases taken to the hospital. 
 Of course, we couldn't get it out of our heads that the quarantine 
 was not due to the major general's desire to inflict a little punishrnent 
 for the Bacchanalian revelry enjoyed by the bunch that spent the night 
 of May il-12 in Bordeaux. 
 
It was hot as hell all week. Schools in the morning, drills in the 
 afternoon, and Sergeant Anderson's gas mask instruction at odd 
 periods helped make us look like "drowned rats," by the time retreat 
 rolled around. 
 
 Wednesday forty-four horses were assigned to the battery, good 
 ones, so good that when Sergeant Ecock put the two best ones in 
 harness to an empty fourgon wagon they couldn't even budge it until 
 he administered his patented massage treatment. 
 
 Thursday night of the 23d we received our money for April. It 
 was the first pay-day in France and it was late at night, almost 10 
 P. M., as we stood in line each one awaiting his turn to bellow "here" 
 and salute reverently the stacks of dough piled on the table that he 
 was not going to get. We were paid in "frog" money and everybody 
 agreed that the reason we had to wait until after dark to "collect" 
 was that the paymaster decided on this course so we couldn't see the 
 "stage" money we were getting. Lights were going in the barracks 
 until midnight disclosing groups of the boys scrambled on the floor, 
 paper and pencil in hand, trying to figure out just how much real 
 dough they had received. Oh, yes, we finally calculated how much 
 that bunch of tissue paper represented, but it didn't look like it. No- 
 body has ever respected the value of a franc — or of a hundred — to this 
 day. It has never seemed to impress us as real money. 
 
 On Saturday, after a gruelling hot day at drill, we had our first 
 gun competition for the battalion. Nobody felt like working, so as 
 a reward for our excellent showing all non-coms were called together 
 by Captain Mitchell in back of the latrine and informed that their 
 jobs were not likely to be steady unless there was a material im- 
 provement. 
 
 Sunday was a beautiful day and it was our turn at Regimental 
 Guard. 
 
 The week of May 26- June 1st began our really interesting work, 
 firing on the range. We began with 400 rounds Wednesday after- 
 noon and knocked 'em dead — showed 'em all up. We might not have 
 been good on a drill field, but when it came down to shooting — the 
 real test — we couldn't be beaten. We had received 26 more horses in 
 the morning to help us get the guns to the range and we needed 'em. 
 The quarantined boys returned to our barracks before nightfall with 
 the joyous tidings that we would now be allowed outside the gate — 
 the quarantine had been lifted so that we could go to Bordeaux for 
 Decoration Day — tomorrow. 
 
 The party was spoiled a bit by our going out to the range in the 
 morning on Decoration Day and shooting some more. The firing bat- 
 tery and telephone detail did not get back until 2 P. M. and were 
 just about in time to see their more lucky comrades go dashing for 
 Bordeaux in two of the trench mortar trucks. A real party in Bor- 
 deaux all right, and most of us got in somebody else's truck in front 
 of the "Y. M." at 9 P. M. without being invited to do so by the 
 M. P.'s, and without being able to find the "P. S." 
 
 The hot weather continued right along and made muster particu- 
 larly uncomfortable with blouses on. So somebody balled it up Friday 
 afternoon and we had to do it over again to please the "majuh," Sat- 
 urday, June 1st at 3 P. M., and that killed all chances of making an- 
 other trip to Bordeaux. We also received 30 more horses and that 
 
kept the drivers a little more occupied. The only pastime left to us 
 now standing in line at the Y. M. C. A. to get a chance to buy enough 
 oranges for the whole week and eat 'em all in one day. 
 
 Sunday, June 2d, white passes were issued, good for the towns of 
 Bonneau, Isaac, St. Medard, Martignas and St. Jean d'lllac. Only 
 non-coms and first-class privates received these cards, but what 
 wouldn't a fellow do for a friend? And, naturally, everybody that 
 wanted to visit the above "vin-joints" had a card. So, although in 
 this first week of June drills were twice as hard, gas masks had to 
 be worn twice as long, and the stables now meant four times as much 
 ■work — who cared In the evening there was always a good meal 
 awaiting us at St. Jean d'lllac, with all the good vin and cherry brandy 
 a man could drink, and pay for. 
 
 Monday, the 3d, we were roused at 4.15 A. M. for target practice 
 on the range and did not return until 6.15 P. M. for supper. We fired 
 709 rounds and it was a hard day's work. The battery was pretty 
 much all in after the long hike back in the thick hot sand, and every- 
 body tumbled into their bunks early for a solid night's rest. On Tues- 
 day, 22 casuals were assigned to the battery — not horses — casuals, in- 
 cluding our famous Manwaren-Swada delegation. Regular routine 
 continued in force and we began to realize the necessity of good long 
 sleeping hours. 
 
 Thursday we fired all day on the range again, this time using shell- 
 reduced. 
 
 Friday evening the boys were down to "four corners" in bunches 
 as Saturday was a soft day, the usual drills in the morning and the 
 mean-less-than-nothing gun competition in the P. M. Passes for Bor- 
 deaux were granted to a lucky few and a great many unlucky ones 
 went along solely for companionship. 
 
 The flies around the camp now became a serious menace to the 
 health of the soldiers. Day after day another batch of men would 
 be sent to the hospital. An official count was made of the men suflFer- 
 ing from dysentery by the first sergeant, and it was found that 62 were 
 severely ill at this time in our one battery. 
 
 But a little thing like dysentery couldn't keep a man from going 
 to Bordeaux, as Carl Schaeffer will testify, even if it was a trifle 
 embarrassing to him and absolutely mystifying to his "lady friend." 
 
 The week of June 9-15 particular stress was laid by the signal 
 detail on work with projectors, semaphore and wig- wag, stuilf we never 
 used at the front. 
 
 We were paid on the 11th for May, not so bad, and the rest of 
 the week small egg omeletes consisting of eight to ten "oeufs" for 
 one person were frequent and not alarming. 
 
 Wednesday, the 12th, was another early morning target practice 
 at the range. We were routed out of bed at 4 A. M. We fired with 
 reciprocal laying and used the quadrant for the first time in firing 
 the pieces. 
 
 We had regimental guard on Friday and, of course, far be it from 
 us to gossip, to wantonly tell tales about the officers in this logbook, 
 but, being as the offenders were not our officers — this time — the above 
 facts must be recorded. Our Private Goodwin, on guard Saturday 
 from 1 A. M. to 3 A. M. at the offiicers' quarters, had considerable 
 difficulty in maintaining quiet and order at the officers' luxurious 
 
 10 
 
mess-halls and had to several times threaten to pinch the bunch. 
 "Goody" was finally reconciled by getting a couple of swigs from 
 the colored waiter, and patrolled his beat in peace until, as he re- 
 ported to' the corporal of the guard and to the O. D. on their rounds 
 that there was no use of having a guard there. He had challenged a 
 couple of officers approaching him and one lovingly assured him that 
 he was "pure as a lily," and the other that he hadn't touched a drop, 
 but couldn't find his house. 
 
 Saturday we again had target practice in the A. M. Passes were 
 issued for Bordeaux. "Four comers" rapidly began losing its popu- 
 larity now with the white card permitting us to visit Medard and 
 Jean d'lUac. Of course, 50 per cent of each section had to remain 
 around barracks to water the horses and attend to other details. The 
 bunch that were ofif Saturday stayed at the Barracks Sunday, washed 
 clothes and let the other fellows have a chance to get a sore head and 
 an empty pocketbook. 
 
 Monday, the 17th, our regular routine was broken by everybody 
 being called out (just before eating) at 11.30 A. M. to fight a fire on 
 the range. No water, so we had to use sticks and shovels, and ask 
 anybody if it wasn't real hard work. We got back at 5.30 P. M. 
 starved and blackened, and cussing the world in general, as the water 
 supply was turned off at 5.15 and we couldn't even wash up. Of 
 course, there was the lake but we were too weary to walk 'way over 
 there through the thick sands. 
 
 The Limoge party left today, consisting of 28 men, three corporals 
 and one sergeant. They were gone for four weeks and the remainder 
 of the battery always pitied the poor fellows "stuck" on this detail. 
 But we didn't know at that time just how they were getting along or 
 our pity might suddenly have changed to envy. 
 
 They were supposed to have been quarantined in a half cleaned 
 stable in Limoge, but we are now assured no one ever slept there ex- 
 cept the guard. Limoge will remain forever in the minds of those un- 
 fortunates as a place where money was not essential tO' have a good 
 time. Everyone was broke, yet the French people treated them like 
 lords. They had plenty to eat, all they wanted to drink and any 
 French home was theirs. Corporal Michael Lyons has a particularly 
 healthy smile when we ask him about Limoge, and we understand, 
 from a little inside information, that he had a shade on everybody's. 
 Pretty soft! 
 
 Working hours were short and consisted only in taking care of 
 the horses as they were delivered to the regimental corral. A French 
 soldier picked the mounts as they arrived, for the French outfits ; and 
 a French woman chose the horses for the Americans. We all agree 
 she was a good picker — for the French army. 
 
 Before we go back to the battery news at Souge, the 4th of July 
 dinner the boys received at Limoge, must be mentioned in all fairness 
 to the French. They killed two pigs, served a wonderful meal and 
 furnished their own champagne in honor of the day. 
 
 At Souge there was plenty of work for the drivers the week of 
 June 16-22. The new French harness was received on Tuesday, the 
 18th, and Lieutenants Burden and Steis were quite occupied instruct- 
 ing the drivers in the proper application of same. 
 
 Thursday A. M. we were at the range and fired our first barrage 
 
 11 
 
in practice. One of Battery B's guns blew up, killing two men and 
 the boys' spirits were a bit dampened by the news of the accident. 
 It was forgotten entirely the next day, however, and never has our 
 confidence in the wonderful French 75's been shaken again. 
 
 Early Friday A. M. we were firing again on the range, gunners 
 and numbers one riding their pieces carelessly. After one-half hour's 
 practice word was received to cease firing as there was a fire on the 
 range. We hiked five miles to fight it. It was two o'clock when the 
 fire was finally checked and put out and we started back for the bar- 
 racks. When in sight of it we were turned around and hiked again 
 to the range. Completed our firing and then returned weary and foot- 
 sore to our barracks to eat. 
 
 Saturday morning we had more target practice, and at last the rea- 
 son was learned why the kitchen persistently arrived late with the mess. 
 A man was despatched to locate them on the road and discovered that 
 the kitchen force took the longest way 'round, far beyond the camp 
 limits, in order to stop at the gin-mills and get a few drinks. We 
 had the usual unsatisfactory battalion gun competition on the range 
 in the P. M. 
 
 Sunday, the 23d, there were lots of passes to Bordeaux. There 
 were only two or three trucks for the regiment and it was always 
 necessary for half of us to get a lift on somebody else's truck going 
 in probably as far as Medard, or walk there — five miles — and then 
 take the dinky trolley line to Bordeaux for six cents. 
 
 Coming back the trucks were crowded beyond their limits. It 
 was with God's own grace that we always managed to come through 
 without a serious accident. The 9 P. M. trucks were one struggling 
 mass of more or less fizzled humanity. Arms and legs were stuck 
 out in all directions and men hung limply to any part of the truck 
 body, seat, top, or tail-board, they could grab hold of. It was a 
 sight that will linger forever in our memory. Waiting for the 
 departure, crowds of French civilians surrounded the loaded trucks 
 and the boys merrily sang the Star Spangled Banner, the Marseillaise, 
 and the latest Broadway ragtime hits to them. With a lurch the car 
 was ofif, it's powerful motor throbbing restlessly under the strain 
 of the heavy load. As the line of trucks swung through the streets of 
 Bordeaux to the outskirts, headed for camp, store-keepers, villagers, 
 old men and women, waved gleefully from doors and windows, to 
 the happy singing American boys, who had left the best part of their 
 month's pay in town without remorse. 
 
 We had target practice at the range every day this week, June 24-28 
 and in compliance with regimental order everyone had to wear his 
 gas mask for one entire hour every day that week at a certain specified 
 hour, no matter where he was or in what work has was engaged. It 
 was a severe test as the weather was unbearably hot. Starkie, how- 
 ever, did it with ease. It was like eating pie to him. He had been in 
 the habit of ducking out of the supply room and crawling into his 
 bunk every day for the last month or so. He slept right through 
 the morning and afternoon only getting up for mess. In order to 
 keep the flies from disturbing his peaceful slumbers, he had tried 
 sleeping with his gas mask on. It worked wonderfully, better than 
 mosquito netting, and any time of the day when the flies were the 
 
 12 
 
thickest and the heat the hottest Starkie could be found, his thoughts 
 in dreamland and his face in his gas mask, 
 
 Friday, after target practice, a fire broke out on the range and 
 was not extinguished until Saturday morning. 
 
 Saturday the guard at Bonneau fell to our battery and the boys 
 who were stuck went down in anything but a happy, playful mood. 
 The coolies there had just been paid and were pickled to the gills. 
 So, naturally, whenever one of the above usually timid unmolesting 
 Chinks got pesky with one of our docile guards, or two Chinks would 
 start a little Chateau-Thiery of their own in ninety-six different sharps 
 and flats, our boys, just to give vent to their satisfaction at spending 
 Saturday with them, instead of with friends in Bordeaux, and also 
 to demonstrate how fervently we loved 'em, would belt a couple on 
 the bean and then bump another one, about a mile away from the 
 scene of trouble, for luck. 
 
 Sunday, the 30th, was muster. All the guns were cleaned. The 
 sections of the battery, reorganized and horses assigned to certain 
 drivers. Something was in the air. 
 
 The next day, July 1st, came the rumors of our departure for the 
 front. We began to speculate, then to bet, on what front we were 
 going. From what the papers said it looked as if they would only 
 leave us where we were for another month, the Germans would move 
 the front down to us, and so save our being transported 'way up to 
 the battle line. But it probably wouldn't have been a safe procedure, 
 so we began packing. Target practice went on as usual in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 We received more horses Tuesday. Went out to the range after 
 dark and had night firing. Quite a spectacle. We would call it a 
 Fourth-of-July celebration with fireworks. Shrapnel was exploding at 
 about a 50-mil height of burst and the flashes of the guns along the 
 whole battalion front made one think of Coney Island. 
 
 Wednesday we unpacked to get ready to parade in Bordeaux to- 
 morrow. The battery, consisting of the first gun crews — four pieces 
 and the caissons — left at 2 P. M., just as it started raining. The 
 boys were greatly disappointed when they pitched tents outside of 
 Bordeaux at the old racetrack, and were not granted passes to town. 
 Lieutenant Steis took Corporal Duckworth as interpreter to find 
 water for the horses, and were the only lucky two.' Duckie, with his 
 usual ingenuity, managing to discover some good bottles of "vin" in- 
 stead of locating plain water. 
 
 The battery paraded in Bordeaux 4th of July morning, along with 
 the others, and then back to Camp Souge, arriving about nightfall. 
 The rest of the boys who spent the day in Bordeaux on pass, and not 
 in parade, had a wonderful joy-party celebrating over Declaration of 
 Independence with more than the usual amount of cognac. 
 
 Friday, the 5th, was a perfect day. Lots of mail in and pay-day. 
 We needed it. 
 
 Saturday was a fine day and quite a bunch of the boys went to 
 Bordeaux to buy souvenirs for the folks back home, as we knew we 
 were leaving soon. 
 
 Sunday morning we washed all soiled clothes, and got everything 
 in readiness to leave. Captain Mitchell succeeded in getting a motor 
 truck for the battery to take us to Bordeaux for the P. M. About 
 
 13 
 
thirty of us had passes, yet more than seventy were aboard the truck 
 as it swung through the gate of the camp going to town. 
 
 Monday morning bright and early our battery started cleaning out 
 the gun parks, the officers' quarters and the stables for the entire 1st 
 and 2d Battalion. 
 
 We then started cleaning up our own barracks. Brody was given 
 a detail of burning up the piles of rubbish that the other bucks were 
 carting out of our barracks. He displayed his usual cunning by brib- 
 ing the two Chincks who were hanging around with two bags of 
 "Bull-Durham" and a pack of cigarette papers, to do his work for 
 him. He immediately retreated to the Y. M. C. A. and camped there 
 all day while his two Chinks labored silently and diligently completing 
 his job in a much more meritorious manner than Brody could have 
 done. 
 
 John Bohannon, first sergeant, and Ben Jacobson, instrument cor- 
 poral, managed to work Captain Mitchell for a pair of theatre passes 
 to Bordeaux good until 1 A. M., in order to celebrate our departure 
 for the front. They came back in a velvet-cushioned taxi to Souge 
 and no sleep. The battery was awakened at 3.20 A. M., packs rolled, 
 less than no breakfast, and all arrangements completed. We left Camp 
 Souge at 7 A. M. Tuesday, July 9th, in a broken line of march — some 
 on foot, some on horse, and others by motor truck. We entrained at 
 Bonneau in two hours, even rigging up telephone lines along the whole 
 train. We had mess at the station consisting of canned tomatoes and 
 "willy" and other similar delicacies. 
 
 We left Bonneau at 1.15 P, M. and rode for 56 hours. It was an- 
 other case of "couchez" in the hay in box cars but we were all happy. 
 It wasn't half as bad as the trip from Brest to Bordeaux and the con- 
 solation of it all was that we almost lost Greenlee, our beloved mess 
 sergeant. He fell off the train while it was in motion on the second day 
 out and we all prayed while the train was being stopped and a detail 
 was sent back to pick up the pieces. It was the closest call Battery F 
 ever had to getting good mess. 
 
 The big burgs we passed through on this trip were: 
 
 Libourne, Mussidan, Perigueux, Limoges, St. Sebastian at (7.05 
 A. M., July 10), Chateauroux, Issoudun, Bourges, Sancerre, Clamecy, 
 Mailly-la-ville, Chateau-villain (at 7.15 A. M., July 11), Bricon, Chau- 
 mont (at 9.15 A. M.), Langres, Culmont, Hortes, Barges, Passavant, 
 Darney, Thaon, Vincey, Charmes, Bayon, Einvaux, Blainville, Lune- 
 ville and Baccarat. 
 
 We reached Baccarat at 11 P. M. and detrained. We were alarm- 
 ingly informed that it was only three kilometers to the front line 
 trenches, and all precautions should be taken so as not to apprise the 
 enemy of our arrival. We first of all unloaded the blue bags and took 
 all helmets out, as we were assured the German aviators bombed the- 
 station every night and we needed the helmets for protection. Say, the 
 war began to look serious ! No lights were allowed, and we talked in 
 whispers. The unloading progressed quietly and quickly and was com- 
 pleted at 1.30 A. M., and not a Boche plane in sight and not a shell 
 had fallen. 
 
 Everything went along smoothly until we started off and then — woe 
 be unto us — our rolling kitchen could be heard along those roads for 
 
 14 
 
ten miles — klankety, klank, klank ! We expected any minute a ton of 
 shot to fall on us, but it never came. 
 
 We reached Bertrechamps about 3.30 A. M., watered the horses and 
 rested up all morning. We made our "echelon" in the woods and in 
 the afternoon drank a little "vin" in town and wrote our farewell let- 
 ters home. We were going into firing position the following night. 
 We left at 6 P. M., July 13th — the 3d and 4th guns only went up with 
 the telephone, machine gun and camouflage detail. Reached our posi- 
 tion about 1 A. M. in a black night and pouring rain. There was no 
 sleep for anyone. Position was about 200 metres north of the road 
 between Neuf Maison and Vacqueville. It rained all day and we got 
 little chance to sleep. This was Sunday, July 14th, the French Na- 
 tional holiday. We laid our first lines to E Battery and began camou- 
 flaging. 
 
 The 1st Platoon came up at night. There was more digging and 
 no sleep for us. 
 
 Monday, the 15th, everything was quiet. The telephone men made 
 their first trip to the dreadful "No Man's Land" and we had the pleas- 
 ing and interesting sensation of watching the Boche aeroplanes over- 
 head being shot at. Sergeant Dooley is the acting first sergeant at the 
 gun position. 
 
 Tuesday we did more digging, as our pits didn't fit the elephant 
 irons just so, and somebody thought we ought to change the line of 
 fire. We also turned around our camouflage nets a few times for ditto 
 reason. 
 
 Wednesday all day there was considerable aerial activity which les- 
 sened our working hours at digging — "It's an ill wind, etc." Also 
 somebody discovered good champagne could be bought at the farm and 
 the officers soon had three bottles. We finally received our revolvers 
 and ammunition, and as soon as we got the chance we would go off 
 somewhere and see how near we could come to hitting the side of a 
 house. 
 
 Thursday, July 18th, the battery registered, and Corporal Spiegel 
 was sent down to the infantry front line trenches as liaison agent. The 
 Germans shelled the Peronne road last night and that put a stop to 
 bringing the wagon-trains in by that roundabout way and somebody 
 we know very well was not a bit sore that he could now get a little 
 sleep. 
 
 Friday, the 19th, five men were detailed for instruction on handling 
 the 60 and 95 mm. guns, made in 1882 and 1890, respectively. Com- 
 munication with O. P. was very difficult to maintain (see Sergeant 
 McKenna). 
 
 Saturday, the 20th, was a beautiful summer day with an occasional 
 air battle to lend "atmosphere" and setting to this busy front. 
 
 Sunday we had nothing to do all day — "mirabile dictu." Even First 
 Sergeant Bohanan at the echelon allowed everybody there 1^ hours 
 off to go to Bertrechamps and wash clothes. Our blue bags were taken 
 away today — never to he seen again. 
 
 On Monday night the second gun, under Sergeant Parlee, moved 
 forward about two kilometers to the "pirate" position. It was dark 
 and rainy and we had a lovely time getting in. The medico and as- 
 sistant gas N. C. O. went along in case of need. 
 
 It rained all day Tuesday and the extra men dug two gun positions 
 
 15 
 
in the wood directly in front of "Parlee' position. A lookout station 
 was formed called "Madison" connecting the pirate gun to the main 
 position which we called "Hunt" station. 
 
 Wednesday night Captain Mitchell mistook two trees for a couple 
 of spies and ran around them in a circle hollering: "Halt! or I'll fire!" 
 and would have shot, only he didn't have his gun. 
 
 Thursday, the 25th, Father Sheridan visited us and stayed over 
 night. We sent Sergeant Tingle and five privates on detached service 
 to Battery B, as their gun crews were quarantined. 
 
 Friday it was still raining. We lost Lieutenant Steis — transferred 
 to the Gas Service. Sergeant Parlee left in the P. M. for Officers' 
 Training School and Jacobson was put in charge of the pirate gun. 
 
 It rained heavily Saturday all day. We played the game of "Trial 
 Barrage" on and off during the day and night. It was a hell of a lot 
 of sport trying to see how fast you could get a shot off, but Schaefifer 
 almost lost his life on one occasion at the pirate position while re- 
 pairing the line to the aiming light. He was directly in front of the 
 muzzle when the command "Fire" was given, and he saved his life 
 only by dropping to the ground, getting his blouse badly scorched and 
 his hearing somewhat jarred, not to mention anything about the fit 
 Corporal Dupree had while trying to stop the piece from being fired. 
 
 Monday, the 29th, we all signed the payroll and also were deloused 
 at Indian Village. 
 
 The night of Tuesday, the 30th, about 10 P. M., "Jerry" came over 
 in one of his bombing planes and came very close to putting Battery 
 F off the face of the map. He dropped three bombs in rapid succes- 
 sion from a very low altitude and they landed squarely among our 
 shelter tents, one just narrowly missing Lieutenant Derby and Private 
 Hundt at the telephone station and another barely escaping destroying 
 our kitchen. It was a close call and nobody was injured at all. 
 
 Wednesday we received word that we break camp tomorrow and 
 leave for a "regular" front. Our schooling was at an end — now for 
 the big fight! Everything was being put into readiness and just while 
 we were having dinner at 6.15 P. M., over came a shell, exploding in 
 the woods right near us. It spoiled everybody's dinner and broke up 
 the mess. Beans were thrown in all directions and the battery dove 
 headlong into our huge dugout to await the next shell. We were then 
 ordered to crawl to the other woods by No. 1 gun and sleep there. 
 
 At the pirate position the gas alarm was going all night, but we 
 never even got one sniff of any gas. If the Germans were sending any 
 gas over, all the harm it was doing was to keep us from getting any 
 sleep. 
 
 Thursday, August 1st, the telephone lines were taken up, wagons 
 packed with everything in sight, and the gas stores left behind. We 
 were to pull out of positions at 11 P. M. and did so on the dot. The 
 main battery under Lieutenant Derby met the pirate gun with Lieu- 
 tenant Nissley at Vacqueville at midnight. 
 
 We travelled on the road all night and morning, passing through 
 Vacqueville, Baccarat, Fontenoy, Domptail, St. Pierremont, and camp- 
 ing in woods near Magnieres at 11 A, M. We caught a couple of 
 hours' sleep, had a corned willy meal and hardtack and harnessed up 
 again at 6 P. M. We waited in formation with our carriages until 
 
 16 
 
12.30 A. M. before the regiment had pulled out of Magnieres and we 
 resumed our road march. 
 
 We again travelled all night passing through Bayon and arrived 
 at Bainville at 8 A. M. It was tough, all right, and we were all more 
 or less asleep on our horses, and at every halt along the march the 
 boys who were walking would flop on the wet ground for a few min- 
 utes' sleep. 
 
 We were given billets in Bainville, sleeping on cots with hay mat- 
 tresses, located in empty dwellings — upper lofts of occupied houses, 
 and in stables and barns. In one particular billet the boys slept with 
 a nice young pig as a companion, and the rooster and hens would come 
 in and visit them occasionally and perch all over their beds. 
 
 We were the first American troops to be billeted in the town and 
 we were treated excellently. They had wonderfully good beer, just 
 like home, and any and every house woman would cook us up a cork- 
 ing good dinner for little money. 
 
 Sunday, the 4th, Sergeant Dooley appointed first sergeant. The 
 articles of war were again read to us, but this time to the "non-coms" 
 only and in an even, calm, but firm tone, each word hardly more than 
 a whisper, but as clear and distinct and impressive as the chimes of 
 an old church bell. And the crisis was passed. We loved and hon- 
 ored the reader of those words and our decision was as one man — we 
 would all go through hell for him without a whimper. 
 
 Mass was held in the church next to the ruins of an old monument 
 built in the 9th century, and in the P. M. we went bathing in the 
 Moselle. Pat Kiernan went fishing with a bent pin, but had no luck 
 as he forgot to put bait on his line. 
 
 Monday we had a good time. Little to do and we had lots of beer 
 and good meals. Quite a bunch more had a bath in the river and to 
 bed early, the cafes being closed at 8.30 P. M. 
 
 Tuesday, the 6th, we were ordered to move. We packed up and 
 left Bainville at 5 P. M. Entrained at Charmes at 8 P. M. and the 
 train pulled out at 11 P. M. Our line of travel was through Neuf cha- 
 teau, Bar-le-duc, Revigny, Pargny, Vitny-le-Francois, Sompuis, Som- 
 mesons, Connantre, Sazanue, Esternay, Joiselle, St. Simeon, and ar- 
 rived at Chailly-Boissy at 7 P. M. the next day, which was Wed- 
 nesday, the 7th. We lost Lieutenant Derby at the last station before 
 our destination was reached as our train had pulled out without him, 
 but he came along all right on the next train. 
 
 We detrained at 10 P. M. and harnessed up our pretty sick horses. 
 As we started our march No. 3 caisson held us up a bit by falling over 
 the little bridge we had to cross and down into the "river" below. 
 Luckily, the horses were not pulled in with it and more luckily they 
 call any old mud puddle a river in France. Nobody was drowned and 
 we were off again, marching all night until about 4 A. M., when we 
 reached a little cluster of farm houses called Le petit-sur-nois (near 
 Doux) and after tying the horses up to the picket lines, crawled in hay 
 lofts and bams. We slept until 7.30. Were assigned to billets and 
 then cleaned material. We are about 25 miles due east of Paris and 
 about the same distance south of Chateau-Thiery. 
 
 During the night of August 8th the camouflage net on the 4th 
 piece mysteriously caught fire and burned up and Masterson did a 
 Paul Revere up and down the road on horseback yelling : "Fire ! 
 
 2.7 
 
"Fire"! While he was arousing the army to fight the flames, Farina, 
 on guard at the time, was doing a hula-hula around the burning net, 
 trying to put it out without scorching his hands. 
 
 Friday, the 9th, we packed up to move and then unpacked again. 
 We had pistol practice in the P. M. and "Red" Hinds was almost 
 winged. 
 
 Saturday, the 10th, we left at 3.20 P. M. and marched all the rest 
 of the day and all night, passing through Coulommiers, Rebais and 
 Sablonmieres, We made camp at 5.30 A. M. in the woods overlook- 
 ing Chezy (sur-Marne) and as worn out as we were, we started right 
 in cleaning material. Corporal Hovey fell asleep on the march while 
 dismounted and lost his horse and his pack. Our corned willy tasted 
 good to us today, and most of us took a swim in the Marne to re- 
 freshen us a bit. 
 
 Pulled out at 7 P. M. Passed through Chateau-Thiery at 10 P. M. 
 and again kept going all night. At daybreak camped in woods north 
 of Courpoil, called Foret de Fere. It had been a scene of recent severe 
 fighting and the spoils of battle lay on the grounds amid the newly 
 dug graves of Americans and Huns. Quite a number of dead horses 
 were strewn around and the stench was far from pleasant. We slept 
 a bit, cleaned material and pulled out again at 7.30 P. M. 
 
 Arrived at 4 A. M., August 12th, at Foret de Nesle. Quentin 
 Roosevelt's grave was about one kilometer away from our camp. Very 
 near our watering place was Chateau Nesles, once visited by Joan of 
 Arc and where Napoleon spent his honeymoon with Josephine. 
 
 We lost our kitchen and were out of luck until the next day for 
 coffee or any warm food. The flies were terrible. There were mil- 
 lions of 'em round the camp. 80 per cent of the battery's effectives 
 were down with a most severe dysentery, too weak to stand. It was 
 now ascertained that this is to be our echelon and the guns go into 
 position from here. 
 
 We slept in our shelter tents in the woods and it was a dizzy night. 
 The Boche bombed the woods all around us from aeroplanes, and 
 during the entire night we were kept awake by some damn fool gas 
 alarms. 
 
 Wednesday, August 14th, after our kitchen arrived we were served 
 rotten cabbage and it added another bunch to the sick list. Captain 
 Mitchell was transferred to the Battalion Field Staff and Captain 
 Delanoy assigned to our battery. As a protection from aeroplane bombs, 
 everybody had to dig little graves about six inches deep, for them- 
 selves to sleep in at night. Towards evening the roar of the distant 
 cannon increased gradually in intensity, as barrage after barrage was 
 repeated and by dark the black skies were rent with ceaseless crimson 
 jets of flame. 
 
 It was the "call of the wild," and our blood tingled with the ex- 
 citement, the desire, the knowledge that tomorrow we'd be in it — the 
 "Big Push" ! And we gathered around the old battery quartet and 
 sang those songs we loved so much. A dizzy night again, every half 
 hour another false alarm for gas. Corporal Lasher almost had apo- 
 plexy when awakened by the gas claxon and he couldn't locate his gas 
 mask under the caisson. 
 
 Thursday, the 15th, was a peach of a day, hot and sticky, perfect 
 weather for flies. The picture will long remain with us that Lieuten- 
 
 18 
 
ant Burden made at noon mess trying to eat bread and jam without 
 getting it full of flies, by wrapping his head in a bundle of pink mos- 
 quito netting and sticking the jam under it, in his wild efforts to evade 
 the hungry pests. 
 
 In the P. M. we were notified two guns were going into position. 
 They left at 7 P. M., the first and second guns under Sergeants Mc- 
 Henry and Jacobson. and were led into position by Captain Delanoy 
 and Lieutenant Nissley. There were clouds of dust along the road, 
 the only place we ever encountered that so much heralded plague of 
 the artillery. 
 
 The incessant rumble of the artillery on our left slowly became more 
 and more distinct. A hell of a battle was going on in our adjacent 
 sector. As we neared Chery and passed through it, the Boche began 
 shelling. There was quite a lot of sneezing gas in the air. We had 
 to put our masks on and one piece not being able to see the turn in 
 the road went straight on ahead towards the German lines till Nugent 
 stopped it. 
 
 We relieved the 16th U. S. Artillery and no sooner had we gotten 
 intO' position, packs hardly off our backs, than we got a call for "Bar- 
 rage," and it was repeated several times throughout the night. It was 
 our first real battle. Jerry was putting 'em over, too. Shells were 
 falling all around us, but not within 300 yards, and he gave us plenty of 
 sneezing gas. 
 
 The evening of August 16th the 2d platoon under Sergeants Tingle 
 and McCormack escorted by Captain Derby arrived amid severe bom- 
 bardment of Chery and the crossroads. 
 
 Our O. P. was on Lesprey Farm. Shells were falling continually 
 round us and at night we got a good deal of mustard gas. 
 
 Saturday the telephone lines were heavily shelled by the Boche, 
 causing continual work at repairing same. We had more gas on and 
 off during the day and occasionally their vicious time H. E. high over- 
 head. There were plenty of splinters flying about at all times and we 
 were ordered to enlarge our two by two dugout so that ultimately 
 everybody could sleep under ground. Lieutenant Derby told the tele- 
 phone detail to deepen their dugout a bit and they immediately com- 
 plied, but soon hit upon bones, and then ribs and finally a hoof. They 
 found they had constructed their dugout right over the spot where 
 someone had hurried a horse, so they quickly threw back again a few 
 inches of the newly disturbed earth on the dead horse, calmly lay their 
 blankets down on top and let it go at that. It was easier than digging 
 a new dugout. 
 
 Sunday, the 18th, we pulled off a couple of barrages before break- 
 fast. More gas and continual shelling of the woods just to our right 
 and the little farmhouse used as a first aid station about 500 yards in 
 front of our position. We got quite a little gas at night. 
 
 Monday, the 19th, Captain Delanoy and Sergeant McKenna were 
 wounded at the O. P. during a heavy shelling. We received our first 
 American mail since Lorraine front. Captain Derby in charge of us 
 now. 
 
 Thui:sday, the 20th, we did more than our usual firing and got more 
 gas in return and more shelling all around us. At night we had our 
 masks on from six to eight hours. We had been getting only two 
 meals a day. breakfast anywhere from 8.30 to 10.30 and dinner about 
 
 19 
 
2.30 to 4 P. M., according to when the ration cart arrived with the 
 food. Captain Derby now arranged with the echelon to send us hot 
 coffee and bread every night at 10 P. M. and it certainly was a bless- 
 ing, providing we could get down to the wagon in time before the 
 hash-hounds in the first section had grabbed all the eats. 
 
 Wednesday, the 21st, the battery had a good day, firing 700 rounds 
 in all, 200 ofVhich were gas shells— and we were happy. We were 
 contented only when we were firing our pieces. Two of our guns 
 kept up an harassing fire all night. 
 
 Thursday we continued the fire of the preceding night with about 
 600 rounds. Things began to look serious for us. Barrage calls from 
 the infantrv were getting frequent. From 9.30 A. M. to 2.30 P. M. 
 we fired five barrages, and then began cutting our range down. 
 
 In the afternoon we got word of our counter-attack on a large scale 
 and at 4.30 P. M. we opened the attack. There was not a moment's 
 rest imtil 11.30 P. M., by which time our battery had fired 3,068 shots. 
 Our guns were terribly hot, so hot that the paint blistered and boiled 
 on the barrels. 
 
 At 12.10 A. M. we got orders to re-commence firing and with short- 
 ened ranges. We had to dig away the little mound of dirt on the 
 edge of the machine gun trench in front of us to be able to fire at 
 the required elevation and got to it eagerly. We fired all day 
 Friday and up to midnight had gotten off 1,655 shots, a total 
 of 4,723 rounds in 31>2 hours of practically unbroken fire. One by 
 one our guns were rested for 15 minutes and cooled by pouring buckets 
 of cold water through the barrels. Everyone from buck to sergeant 
 helped carry the ammunition from the road to the gun position. 
 
 Saturday, the 24th, we did our first firing at 12.05 A. M. There 
 came a verbal call for barrage. We got six rounds off (per gun) and 
 then the barrage was stopped by orders. Ten minutes later the call 
 was repeated by telephone and we completed our barrage in quick 
 order. We have since learned that the second barrage caught the 
 Germans coming out of the trenches and cut them up severely. They 
 had come to the attack thinking our first barrage had ended. All day 
 we fired 759 rounds. We got more gas at night and it was raining. 
 Chery got heavy shelling as usual and six men were killed there in 
 the Red Cross station. We gave the Germans harassing fire all night 
 and felt better for it. 
 
 Sunday, the 25th, the battery had a soft day, 472 shots, spent in 
 normal barrages, counter battery work and retaliatory fire. The night 
 was cool and rainy and we had a gas attack for one hour. Benny 
 Polack again carried coffee to Lieutenant Nissley at the O. P. at night. 
 He fell in a straddle trench in the darkness on the way up and turned 
 his job down, complaining to the lieutenant that he didn't want to do 
 it again. 
 
 Monday we discovered that during the night the Boche had put 8 
 direct hits on the road between Chery and on our position and had 
 also knocked down the church steeple at Chery. This was a busy day 
 for the telephone detail. 
 
 Tuesday, the 27th, we continued our barrages and counter-battery 
 work, firing a total of 592 shots. We repeated a normal barrage three 
 times in rapid succession just after daybreak. At night we got mus- 
 
 20 
 
tard gas, but were quite accustomed to it now and thought nothing 
 of it. 
 
 Wednesday, the 28th, the boys at the echelon received their July 
 pay. The firing battery got off 385 rounds and called it a day's work. 
 But the telephone men had a busy time of it, day and night work on 
 the lines and the boys had several narrow escapes from shells. 
 
 Thursday the firing battery received their pay, but there was no 
 place to spend it. We amused ourselves with some counter-battery 
 work — 100 shots — for which we had to dig our heads off to get our 
 anti-craft elevation. And then the officers would devise a scheme for 
 winning the war by shooting 900 mils to the wrong side of our normal 
 line of fire and we had to dig all over again and in solid rock, too. 
 The 4th piece was particularly fortunate in having the good luck to 
 strike solid granite to dig through. All four gun pits had enough 
 rock, but the pit of the 4th piece resembled a stone quarry when they 
 got through. In the evening Sergeant Schwitchenberg again came up 
 with the fourgon wagon. This made his tenth successive night trip 
 to our position and he has had some pretty close calls along the roads. 
 The past few nights we had a beautifully clear moonlight and the 
 drivers coming up from the echelon with chow and wire netting had 
 anything but an enjoyable trip through gas and sheel fire. 
 
 Friday, the 30th, we again had counter-battery work and one 
 hour's gas. Last night two Camembert cheeses had come up in the 
 wagon for one of the boys and by mistake had been put in the officers' 
 dugout. Captain Derby spent a miserable night insisting that a rat 
 or something worse had crawled into his quarters and died. In the 
 morning the cheese was discovered and the Captain immediately got 
 rid of it by dispatching one cheese to Lieutenant Nissley at the O. P. 
 and the other to its proper owner. 
 
 It started raining early in the morning of Saturday, the 31st. We 
 had barrages and counter-battery work, 245 rounds, and it was becom- 
 ing more evident that the Boche gas was dwindling in frequency and 
 strength. Corporal Hovey took the G. S. cart up with a German pill 
 box to the O. P. under severe shelling, and he wasn't a bit sorry when 
 he got back. 
 
 Sunday, September 1st, we fired our last normal barrage at 10.30 
 A. M., and then continued with counter-battery work. At about 2.30 
 P. M. we thought it was all over with us when Jerry started dropping 
 shells right on top of us and our gun position. They had the exact 
 range. The first one was a dud and hit squarely among us. It would 
 have killed ten men had it gone off. There were six more that did 
 explode, all within a radius of 25 yards of our guns. One fell in the 
 306th Machine Gun trench, 10 yards in front of us, killing three and 
 wounding seven. That none of our battery was killed was a miracle. 
 In a few minutes it was all over and our firing continued, as usual, 
 totalling 350 rounds. Cheese and chocolate was received for our can- 
 teen and which we divided equally among the sections. At night the 
 gas was very slight. 
 
 Monday, September 2d, we fired only 172 shots in counter-battery 
 work and we had a chance to go down to the water trough and take 
 a bath — while the Boche shells were breaking on the crest of the hill 
 not far away. 
 
 A new position had been picked out for us yesterday in case of 
 
 21 
 
renewed shelling of our present position, and camouflage nets set up. 
 This morning it was discovered that a German 210 had gone through 
 the net and tore a big hole in the ground just where our gun would 
 have been. The boys at the echelon were entertained at night by 
 the band of the 308th Engineers. Jerry broke up the party, however, 
 by appearing on the scene in a war chariot and dropping a little con- 
 fetti. 
 
 Tuesday, the 3d, we had counter-battery work — 265 rounds and a 
 little gas in the air. It was reported the Germans are beginning to 
 retreat and they certainly made desperate but unsuccessful efforts to 
 cover the movement of their troops by bringing down our observation 
 balloons. Air fights had been frequent, but now the skies were speck- 
 led with bristling, sputtering machines and we witnessed some inter- 
 esting battles. Fires were burning behind the German lines most of 
 the night and we knew their retreat was imminent. 
 
 Wednesday, September 4th, we fired only in the morning, at long 
 range, 72 shots. We received word about 3 P. M. to advance. The 
 echelon broke camp and moved forward in twenty minutes. We left 
 our excess equipment behind at the gun position and towards evening 
 pulled our guns out and harnessed up. We remained all night in 
 march formation in a drizzling cold rain, without any sleep. The 
 roads were blocked and it was 3 A. M. when we started forward pass- 
 ing through St. Martin and Villa Savoy. 
 
 We crossed the Vesle at 5 A. M. (Thursday) and kept going. 
 Everywhere was visible the "Price of Honor" — our unburied dead. 
 They lay along the whole route, some terribly mangled, others as calm 
 and serene as in sleep. We had a salmon and hardtack breakfast in 
 an open field, rested for an hour as our horses had had a hell of a 
 time pulling through the mud and shell holes in the roads and then 
 continued on passing through Fismette under heavy shelling from the 
 Boche. We remained in the open roads, broad daylight under con- 
 tinual observation by enemy aeroplanes until 2 P. M. We arrived at 
 battery position about 6 P. M. and started digging. Moved a quarter 
 of a mile to new battery position at 8 P. M. and began an all night 
 shift of digging. Privates George and Carson were gassed in German 
 dugouts and left for the hospital. 
 
 Friday, September 6th, the line was laid to the infantry trenches. 
 We had our first hot meal in 48 hours. Somehow our kitchen always 
 managed to get lost. It was some night. Jerry was upstairs drop- 
 ping lights, star shells. He put one directly over us. Again we were 
 saved by a miracle. He dropped his bombs just to the rear of us, 
 between the echelon and our position. 
 
 Saturday the rain began and for a stretch of six successive days 
 and nights it rained on and off — mostly on — us. Today was a veri- 
 table cloudburst, and everybody slept in the mud and water. Sergeant 
 Bohanan was put in charge of the first section, while Sergeant Mc- 
 Henry was given his "Coney Island" barker job, acting as execeutive 
 at the guns. For nearly a m.onth we were short two officers. All the 
 work devolved upon Captain Derby and Lieutenant Nissley to figure 
 data and ranges. Our problems were such that called for instant com- 
 putation. We tried to register, getting about 30 shots off, but ob- 
 servation was too difficult and it had to be given up for another day. 
 
 We were some army! We stole everything in sight, from a piece 
 
 22 
 
of tin to the side of a house and got away with it by calling it "sal- 
 vaging." Anything you'd see that you would like, just take it — it's 
 yours — "salvaged." And maybe we didn't become experts in a short 
 while ! It was wonderful. Put a bunch of men out there in the bar- 
 renness and desolation of war-beridden France, leave 'em to their 
 own initiative to find the necessities of life, and we don't know where 
 it comes from, but they'll soon have everything that belongs to the 
 comfort of a home, from a mattress to an egg-beater! 
 
 Sunday, the 8th, was still raining and the linemen had great diffi- 
 culty in maintaining communication over the long lines to the infan- 
 try. We fired 316 rounds all day. 
 
 Monday, the 9th, we fired our barrages and did some counter-bat- 
 tery work, totalling 186 shots. The rain still kept up and it was a 
 tough time trying to keep our sleeping quarters dry. 
 
 Tuesday we registered, the weather cleared a bit. One of the guns 
 fired fifty semi-steel and never could the O. P. locate one of them. We 
 got off a little counter-battery and harassing fire totalling 186 rounds. 
 Lieutenants Taylor and Hill — regular fellows — joined the battery to- 
 day. At night plenty of shelling on the crest just in front of us, and 
 "beaucoup" rain all night. 
 
 Wednesday, the 11th, we fired 440 rounds getting our first normal 
 barrage off at 7.30 P. M. There was lots of trouble on the lines again 
 caused by shell fire. 
 
 Drivers had their share of the dirty work at this front, working 
 day and night, bringing food and ammunition from the echelon up 
 the steep slopes to our battery position under constant shell fire from 
 the Germans, 
 
 Thursday, the 12th, we had more rain and more mud, fired 208 
 rounds during the day and got all the chance we wanted to sleep in 
 the slush at night. 
 
 Friday, the 13th, and raining — but none of us got killed. Only 75 
 rounds today. 
 
 Saturday was a grand day. We did some real fighting again like 
 the big day at Chery. Just before daybreak our guns opened up and 
 fired for twelve hours without a let-up, the battery getting off 3,200 
 rounds. The weather favored us, too. It was the first sunny day in 
 a week, and during the hurry call to the echelon for more ammuni- 
 tion, every available man, driver, spare cannoneer, or non-com — all did 
 their damndest, passing the ammunition up the steep slope from the 
 road to the gun position. 
 
 Sunday, the 15th, we learned we were going to be relieved for cer- 
 tain in the P. M. The combat train pulled out of the echelon at 3 
 P. M., starting back along the road through Fismes. While passing 
 through the road the Huns began shelling just ahead of us. The car- 
 riages were turned around and had to come back through Fismes and 
 go around by the other road. Some of the other batteries lost quite 
 a few horses by shell fire, but again we had our streak of luck with 
 us and no one was injured. The guns pulled out at 7 P. M. relieved 
 by the Italians. We met the combat train along the road and trav- 
 elled all night. Jerry bombed the roads in a wonderfully clear moon- 
 light and again the regiment lost some horses. Passed through Fismes, 
 Chery, Travegney, Coulouges and Cohan. 
 
 23 
 
Just about daybreak of Monday, the 16th, we went into camp in 
 the woods near Cierges. We got a few hours' sleep. We were paid 
 for the month of August. Harnessed up at 6.30 and waited in woods. 
 Pulled out at 10.30 P. M. 
 
 Had another all night march, going through Goussacourt, St. 
 Geminee Passy. We crossed the Marne near Mareail le Port just 
 after daybreak and camped in a stubblefield — Chene la Reins. Tues- 
 day, the 17th, we spent the day there, packed up about 6 P. M. and 
 then the order to leave was cancelled. Forty men with their packs were 
 sent over to the headquarters detachment. We lay down to catch a 
 little sleep just as it started to rain. Called at 2 A. M. (Wednesday) 
 and began our march at 4 A. M, We were now passing through coun- 
 try unscathed by the war. Wonderful vineyards walled the roads, and 
 the boys, tired, wan and thirsty, ate ravishly the handful of grapes 
 taken on the march. It was well on towards noon that our weary 
 horses were made to pull up to the top of the long, steep hill overlook- 
 ing Avize, and we camped in the woods along the road. While the 
 cooks were trying to prepare us some corned willy, most of us paid 
 a visit to the town — Avize — and bought lots of eats and "vin." It was 
 a real Champagne town and soon everybody was more or less drunk. 
 Corporal Goodwin had somebody's goat for a while and John Foray 
 slept in the cemetery all night. It was our first chance to get a drink 
 since going to the front in August and the stuff had double effect as 
 we were tired and empty-stomached. 
 
 We had a good night's sleep, though it rained continually and most 
 of us did not have our shelter-halves pitched. We were aroused about 
 3.30 A. M. 
 
 Thursday, the 19th, turned all the carriages around a couple of 
 times first in one direction and then in another and finally got going 
 in the right direction at 5 A. M. It was necessary in order to hide 
 our worn out uniforms and dilapidated appearance to don overcoats 
 or slickers on the march before entering any towns. There was a long 
 halt in Avize and when we started again we were a sight for the Gods. 
 Every man was stocked to the limit of his carrying capacity with 
 honest-to-goodness bread, sardines, cheese and champagne. It was 
 another entire day's hike, the battalion losing the route. Reached our 
 destination at 5 P. M. Camped in a large open field — Farm de Notre 
 Dame (near Cheniers) and ten kilometers from Chalons. Sergeant 
 Bohannan, still dizzy from Avize, right-dressed the tent-pitchers to 
 the great amusement of everybody present. Wild and varied were the 
 rumors afloat. Chalons was in all probability our rest camp. Huge 
 barracks had been constructed for the housing of men and horses, and 
 we would draw new uniforms and equipment, get baths there and 
 have a good month's vacation in the city itself. We went to sleep 
 happy — particularly that Captain Derby told us to throw away our 
 aiming stakes and camouflage poles. We were not going to another 
 front without a rest, as the pessimistic ones had preached. 
 
 Showers were frequent during the night and morning. We were 
 aroused by bugle at 3.30 A. M. Had an earlv breakfast in the rain 
 and on our way at 6 A. M. But we went directly away from. Chalons. 
 Something was wTong — and our dope changed into doubt. We made 
 good time on the march and made camp in a field at La Cheppe about 
 2.30 P. M. Pitched tents and spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning 
 
 24 
 
material and repacking wagons. We bought some real eats in the 
 town, got a good night's sleep. 
 
 Up at 7 A. M. the next morning (Saturday, September 21st) and 
 again repacked the wagons and cleaned material. We left our field 
 at 3 P. M. and hiked through Pogny, Franceville, Coupyville, Le 
 Fresne and reached Bussy-le-Repos at 2 A. M. 
 
 We camped in a little orchard in the village. It was raining cats 
 and dogs and after daybreak some of us took refuge in a deserted 
 Y. M. C. A. hut nearby and slept on the tables and floor. It was im- 
 possible to buy a thing in the village, reputed as the poorest town in 
 France — in contrast to Avize, which we had but shortly left and was 
 classed as one of the richest and cleanest towns in the country. We 
 pulled out at 7 P. M. and marched all night in the pouring rain. We 
 made camp at 5 A. M. in the thick woods alongside the road about 
 one kilometer from Chatrices. Everybody was soaking wet, cold and 
 hungry. The rain had gone through our slickers and our clothes were 
 wringing wet. No one pitched tents — we were too tired. We con- 
 tented ourselves with rolling in our blankets and shelter-halves, and 
 threw ourselves on the ground, dead tired. After two or three hours' 
 sleep the horses were groomed and then we had a joy party making 
 pancakes for ourselves with the dough that Larue spoiled by knocking 
 the can over. We were informed in a little speech by the B. C. that 
 we were nearer the front than we had imagined and would go into 
 position in the line direct from here. "Our rest is at an end," he said 
 with a smile, and we heaved a sigh of relief. The front was better 
 than this hiking. At 7 P. M. we started out marching and kept it up 
 all night. 
 
 We passed through St. Menehould and arrived at battery position 
 in the Argonne Forest at 6 A. M. (Tuesday, the 24th), near La 
 Harazee. We were greeted with a warm reception by the Boche — 
 the scream and bursting of the big shells round us celebrating our en- 
 trance into the Argonne front. We were given no time for sleep. 
 To work at once, on our gun-pits, ammunition pit, and shelter trench. 
 Luckily, we had any number of old French dugouts in the vicinity, 
 and at night while half of the crews worked the others caught a few 
 hours' sleep on their wet, cold blankets. 
 
 The next day was spent at hard labor enlarging our pits to their 
 1600-mill sweep and as soon as night set in every avialable man got 
 to work with brand new axes borrowed from the engineers. By mid- 
 night we had cut down a good part of the Argonne forest, permitting 
 us to fire from our position at the required short ranges. At our bat- 
 tery position, tired as everyone was, there was no chance to sleep after 
 midnight. The battle was to open at 2.20 A. M. and ammunition was 
 arriving every minute and had to be carried back from the road to 
 the gun position. Everybody was stepping round lively. In the P. C. 
 both Captain Derby and Lieutenant Nissley without sleep for 48 hours, 
 broke down under the strain of ceaseless figuring and reconnaisance, 
 and fell asleep across the little wooden table with the dim light of 
 the low burning candle in the comer, and left Lieutenant Hill to figure 
 his first barrage. At the last minute our battery received orders to 
 cover the entire battalion section, which required a further shift of 
 three hundred or more mils and while the section chiefs were going 
 crazy trying to get the pits completed for the new laying, Lieutenant 
 
 25 
 
Hill, watch in hand, emerged from the P. C. and after the preliminary 
 caution that it was one minute to firing time, began : "Ready — Fire" ! 
 and not a gun responded. The first piece had slipped off the platform 
 and rolled down into the trail pit and the second piece was busily en- 
 gaged chopping down a tree about two feet thick that was only five 
 feet away and directly in the path of our new line of fire. The third 
 piece had its trail in the ammunition pit and the fourth was busy tear- 
 ing down their beautifully constructed sandbag and log roof and 
 walls, as it interfered with the muzzle of the gun. 
 
 The swearing that we indulged in for the next ten minutes before 
 we got firing was good for our constitutions, but not very good for 
 our souls. Our guns started. At about the same time Hell itself 
 was turned loose on earth. The battle that was to put our division 
 forever in history — the Argonne — was on its way — opened by the 
 "Million Dollar Barrage." The noise was so terrific that one had to 
 holler at the top of his voice to the man standing next to him to make 
 himself heard. The first shot from McHenry's piece carried away the 
 frog telephone line that had been put up during the night directly in 
 front of his piece. 
 
 We fired without a break from 2.40 A. M. to 3.30 P. M., getting 
 off 2,725 rounds. As the morning went on and the rate of fire de- 
 creased, the exhausted crews were given a chance of getting a couple 
 of hours' sleep. 
 
 In the P. M., after waiting impatiently for the limbers to come up 
 from the echelon, the 2d platoon went forward with Lieutenants Niss- 
 ley and Taylor. Passed through La Harassee and up a steep hill to 
 the east of it. Lieutenant Nissley had no map on hand and the two 
 guns had moved unbeknown to him, to within 2,000 yards of our front 
 line. We slept all night on the ground by the pieces while waiting for 
 orders — with machine guns and snipers' bullets occasionally whizzing 
 bv. rhe G. S. cart from the echelon had failed to reach us with food, 
 and all we had was three hardtacks apiece before going to sleep. Lieu- 
 tenant Nissley took a little joy trip with Ken Miller to the infantry 
 trenches to get our targets from the major. They had an exciting 
 time crawling back through mud, barbed wire and machine gun fire, 
 and if it liad not been for Miller the chances are neither would have 
 gotten back alive. 
 
 Sergeant Smith left us to attend Officers' Training School. 
 
 In the morning of the 27th, Friday, while the 1st platoon was 
 getting off S86 rounds, the crews of the 2d platoon were trying to 
 grub a little food from the infantry kitchens that lined the road at 
 La Harasee. The 1st platoon pulled out of position about 4.30 P. M. 
 and moved forward to a new position among the dead trees just to 
 the east of Le Four de Paris. The 2d platoon was imable to fire from 
 its position on account of the heavy forest, and late at night was or- 
 dered back to the other guns. They joined the battery about 3 A. M. 
 It was a hell of a position for our guns. The ground was spotted with 
 shell holes two yards apart, and in trying to pull the pieces into posi- 
 tion, one of Corporal Spenzola's white horses fell into a shell crater 
 and simply would not try to get out. The poor horse was dead tired, 
 and as this was his first chance to rest in a long while, he was con- 
 tented to choose the comfort of lying in a shell hole to standing up in 
 harness. We fired 145 shots during the day here. 
 
 26 
 
Sunday, the 29th, we had some barrages and harassing fire, total- 
 Hng 684 shots. The scarcity of horses was now beginning to be felt. 
 Half of the stuff that we had to leave behind yesterday was brought up 
 only this P. M. and the few good horses we did have we worked to 
 death hauling ammunition. We also received a little new clothing to- 
 day — we were badly in need of it. 
 
 Monday, the 30th, our limbers and horses were up to battery posi- 
 tion at daybreak. We rolled packs, pulled our guns out from among 
 the shell holes to the road, everything put in readiness to move for- 
 ward, and then the order was cancelled. This stunt was repeated at 
 odd intervals during the day. And every time the darn order to move 
 was cancelled we had to rush our guns back in position and rip off 
 a dozen or two rounds at some pesky machine gun nest that was hold- 
 ing up the advance. During this game of "tag, you're it," the 3d piece 
 was always the winner, being the first gun in the battalion to report 
 in firing position and "in order," due principally to the physical ef- 
 forts of Lieutenant Taylor. 
 
 We remained in this position exactly one week more. It was dur- 
 ing this week that the "Lost Battalion" of the 307th and 308th were 
 sticking it out in their death trap, and every day from Monday, Sep- 
 tember 30th to Sunday, October 6th, it was practically day and night 
 firing, barrage and zone firing and exterminating fire on machine gun 
 nests. There was little rest for anyone these seven days, firing in all 
 a total of 4,516 rounds for the battery. We had plenty of rain, too, 
 which didn't make things a bit pleasant, as our dugouts would have an 
 inch or two of water in the bottoms. The mud and slush on the long 
 narrow staircases made it easy for anyone to slip and fall in it. 
 
 Otir fire was particularly accurate and destructive and was instru- 
 mental in bringing upon our heads two letters of commendation, one 
 from the Corps Commander to the Division Commander and another 
 from the Regimental C. O. to the Battery Commander, which bore the 
 Major's personal endorseent and commendation. Both of these docu- 
 ments are reproduced in the appendix page. 
 
 Back at the echelon our horses were dying so fast that First Ser- 
 geant Dooley had to appoint someone to handle the job of burying 
 them. Corporal Hovey was elected official undertaker and his detail 
 of grave-diggers had plenty of work. 
 
 But outside of burying horses and grooming those that weren't 
 quite ready to be buried, echelon life was not so bad at that time. 
 Lanquets and champagne dinners were often held in the little elephant- 
 ironed orderly room and some of our purely local talent would help to 
 cniertain the guests while the crash and roar of the bursting shells 
 and booming guns would be drowned in laughter and songs. 
 
 October 6th, Lieutenant Hill left us to join the infantry as our 
 liaison officer. Varied and exciting have been his adventures, in that 
 capacity, but he. never tells of his many close calls to death. We have 
 tried to get the personal side of his story from him, but all we could 
 learn was, to put it in his own language, that he "ran all over France, 
 ind got damn good and wet." 
 
 The night of October 6th the firing battery moved to Vienne le 
 Chateau, better known to us as "German Village." We pulled into 
 position about 3 A. M. October 7th in a dark night and the pieces had 
 to be manhandled three or four hundred yards through soft, muddy 
 
 27 
 
soil covered with shell holes half full of water. In trying to bring in 
 one of the fourgon wagons over the narrow plank bridge that spanned 
 an old trench in front of our position, at Lieutenant Nissley's sugges- 
 tion, the lead and swing teams were changed, and the wagon promptly 
 fell overboard into the ditch pulling the off horse with it. Lieutenant 
 Nissley admitted, for the first time, that he was wrong, and Sergeant 
 S' hwitchenberg went ahead with the rest of the train. 
 
 When daylight came we discovered our position was a "cuckoo." 
 Wonderful German dugouts nearby made of solid concrete and iron 
 with electric lights, stoves and even bath tubs. We dug our gun-pits 
 and lay in a store of ammunition. But in the three days we were here 
 we did not fire a shot — the Boche kept pulling out of range. 
 
 Tuesday we all took baths in the German bath tubs — real hot water. 
 Lordy ! what wonders a little water can do ! It began to rain pitch- 
 forks at night, so, naturally, even though we didn't fire, they had the 
 section-chiefs get up and report to the P. C. a couple of times in the 
 downpour. It was unbelievably dark, and the P. C. could only be found 
 by wandering around about fifteen minues floundering in the mud, and 
 then for consolation the sergeants would get hell for taking so long 
 to report. 
 
 Peace rumors were afloat Wednesday, the 9th, and the boys were 
 beginning to believe them. Got ready to move forward at 5 P. M. and 
 the order was cancelled at the last minute. There were several "peace 
 celebrations" that night, the one of the most social prominence being 
 held in Sergeant Anderson's dugout (please take note, he always had 
 a dugout) and the invited guests and entertainers consisted of Cor- 
 porals "L. I. Farmer" Horton and "Shoe Lace" Spiegel, and Sergeants 
 "Black Jack" McHenry, "Whizz-Bang" Garry and "Silk" Jacobson. 
 Said party lasted until 11.30 P. M., whereupon the guests went to sleep 
 on the hard but inviting floor. 
 
 Thursday we were aroused at 4.30 A, M. Had a wee bite and 
 pulled out. Travelled all day along shell- torn and muddy roads. Ger- 
 man signs painted in big black letters on huge board frames confronted 
 us on all sides. The Boche had left here only yesterday and the roads 
 and underbrush were spotted with dead Frenchmen. We pulled into 
 position near Lancon late in the afternoon, laid our pieces and to bed 
 at 8 P. M., pitching our shelter tents in the camouflage of a little wood, 
 while the Boche were shelling about a half mile to the right of us. 
 
 Before dawn on Friday, the 11th, the first platoon went forward 
 with Lieutenant Nissley on his famous "pigeon shooting" contest. 
 After having been assured by some American infantry colonel that the 
 guns could go right on into Grand Pre, he learned from a French offi- 
 cer that the Americans had not yet succeeded in even crossing the 
 river. After some close shaves the two guns were gotten into position 
 and in the week they stayed there did some of the most remarkable 
 shooting in the war, bringing forth high comment upon this successful 
 undertaking. 
 
 The second platoon under Captain Derby pulled up a steep hill to 
 within 3,000 meters of our front line, a bit S. W. of Grand Pre. The 
 Boche was 'way in on our left flank and there was "beaucoup" ma- 
 chine gun fire on the hill directly to our left. Big shells were dropping 
 by the carload. Shelter tents were pitched in the pouring rain and the 
 crews worked in shifts all night digging a safety trench. 
 
 28 
 
Both platoons stayed in their respective positions exactly one week, 
 until the evening of October 17th. The firing was mainly at special 
 targets, such as the church steeple in Grand Pre, German trucks and 
 wagon trains along the roads, and exterminating fire on machine gun 
 positions. 
 
 Captain Prentiss, in command of a machine gun battalion, visited 
 Captain Derby the night of October 12th and brought rumors of Ger- 
 many's consent to withdraw to the Rhine and sign peace. 
 
 We managed to salvage two nice new camp telephones that be- 
 longed to somebody else, but it helped the battery out of a hole. 
 
 Lieutenant Hill lost everything he owned and over and above that, 
 Captain Derby's overcoat, while advancing with the infantry. He tried 
 to salvage some blankets to keep warm at night from the bodies of 
 dead Frenchmen lying around, but found the blankets were about the 
 size of table napkins. Finally he succeeded in getting a good one out 
 of a German pack. 
 
 The morning of October 14th Private Whitman, while acting as 
 runner to the infantry, had both legs blown off during a violent gas 
 attack. Gormley, who was with him, removed his mask to give Whit- 
 man "first aid" and carried him to a place of shelter. Gormley was 
 gassed seriously in saving his friend and later was himself taken to the 
 hospital, receiving a divisional citation for his brave conduct. The 
 same day, during some three hours' steady fire, the 4th piece, under 
 Sergeant McCormack, blew up. Again Battery F had its marvelous 
 luck with it, and by a miracle no one was even so much as scratched. 
 
 Tuesday, the 15th, we received a sweet, comforting little note which 
 read to the effect that we should not believe the war is over, but to 
 fight our damndest to bring it to a close before winter sets in. The 
 3d gun being alone in our main battery position, we received orders to 
 put it in position in Battery D's line, as they were also short two guns. 
 This left all the shooting to our 1st platoon, but they made up for the 
 missing pieces. The telephone detail had the extreme delight here of 
 having a French caisson come across the field and roll up about 500 
 metres of their line to the Battalion O. P., which had to be immediately 
 replaced while firing was going on. It is worthy of mention to say 
 Corporal Schaeffer stated that he counted 15 splices in this line on the 
 last day, all of which were bare, owing to the impossibility of procur- 
 ing tape, and that part of the line was composed of captured German 
 wire. From this we might gather an inkling of the trials and diffi- 
 culties that befell our plucky, resourceful crew of telephonists and 
 linesmen. Quite a bunch of gas was being sent over by the Germans 
 and a few G. I. cans came down pretty close. But we did no digging. 
 It was pouring rain and we lay in our little pup tents, laughing and 
 smoking as it was raining too hard for aeroplanes. We even lit 
 candles at night. Nothing could dampen our wonderful cheerfulness. 
 
 Thursday, the 17th, we tried to dry out our blankets and other 
 things with the help of small bonfires. We were relieved in the eve- 
 ning by the 78th Division. 
 
 The 1st platoon went on ahead of the 3d piece, which followed in 
 Battery D's line of march and all three sections met at our echelon 
 near La Harasee. It was a tough night. It was raining, ice cold and 
 the roads were filled with slush. We hiked for ten long hours — most 
 of us with packs, and only a short halt along the road. We waited, 
 
 29 
 
shivering and wet, while the echelon was roused and packed up, and 
 when the captain got through fuming, we renewed our march just as 
 day was breaking. We made our camp near La Chalade at 8 A. M., 
 making it a hike of nearly 32 kilometers over night. Those of us who 
 didn't have to go back with the teams to help move up the echelon, or 
 start the kitchen work, threw our wet blankets on the ground, and 
 rolled into them for two hours' sleep. There was nothing but corned 
 willy to eat all day. We were assigned to numerous little dugouts in 
 the edge of the forest, and the boys were asleep by 6 P. M. 
 
 Saturday, the 19th, we had reveille at 6.30 A. M., first in months. 
 We immediately got to work after our corned willy and coffee break- 
 fast cleaning material, grooming and feeding horses and checking 
 personal equipment. Our battery canteen opened in the afternoon, and 
 we bought lots of wonderful stuff — Camembert, butter, sardines, cigars 
 and cigarettes. Again we pulled under the cover early — 7 P. M., find- 
 ing everybody in bed except the luckless guards. 
 
 Sunday, the 20th, we got out in a pouring rain to hold reveille. 
 Lieutenants Nissley and Taylor left on their furlough at 2 P. M. Three 
 guns, the 1st, 2d and 3d pieces, left for overhauling at the Ordnance 
 Department. Three men of each section accompanied the guns and 
 hiked in the rain to Les Iselettes. Got pretty good meals there and a 
 nice room and bunk to sleep in. They returned at noon Tuesday, the 
 20th, to the battery and found the battery getting deloused and new 
 equipment issued. It was just dark enough in the evening when Bat- 
 tery F's turn came to take its shower bath of twenty drops of cold 
 water to enable those who had stood in line naked and shivering in the 
 open to duck back in the woods and don their new underclothes with- 
 out enjoying the "'mock" shower bath. 
 
 Wednesday, the 23d, after reveille, we had close order drill, gas 
 drill, inspections and other things that make a soldier "having his rest" 
 wish so hard he was back again at the front. 
 
 The Liberty Players gave two shows at the big stone church Wed- 
 nesday afternoon and evening. The night performance was inter- 
 rupted by one of Jerry's air raids. While the anti-craft were popping 
 away the lights were doused in the church. In about fifteen minutes 
 the hum of Jerry's engines had ceased, lights were put on again and 
 the show continued. 
 
 Thursday, the 24th, we were notified we are going to move. Not 
 for our expected rest — but back to the line. The order was cancelled 
 at dark and we had to unroll our packs and sleep in our old holes. 
 The canteen sold lots of stuff today, and we laid in a stock of cheese, 
 "ardines and honest-to-God real candy. 
 
 Reveille Friday, the 25th, and same pleasant routine in the morning, 
 and turned in our saddle bags. At noon mess we were notified to 
 move out immediately for the front. Orders issued for everybody to 
 carry packs. We hiked till an hour after dark and then echeloned in 
 a brambly wood just as it started to rain. Pitched our shelter halves 
 and got a bite of cold corned willy, bread and no coffee. 
 
 At 4 A. M. Saturday, October 26th, the four section chiefs and 
 three men of each gim crew along with the camouflage detail were 
 awakened to go forward to our new firing position. It was cold and 
 dark, still raining, and with a little coffee and bacon as a starter we 
 hiked all day until 2 P. M., the main battery following close behind 
 
 30 
 
the advance detail and echeloning at Chatel-Chehery. The firing bat- 
 tery went into position late in the afternoon in a weeded, muddy hol- 
 lov/, halfway between Connay and Marcq — a perfect gas trap. The 
 gun crews bummed some good mess from the 60th C. A. kitchen, about 
 five hundred yards from our position. Work was started at digging 
 our gun-pits and trail logs gathered in. Corporal Kehoe, Labreque 
 and others of the camouflage squad worked laboriously getting our 
 coverirg up, as secrecy of our position was the one big thing. The 
 drive was planned to start in four or five days and our safety and the 
 success of the undertaking lay mainly in our keeping the enemy un- 
 aware of the arrival of new forces. 
 
 Late at night we knocked off work and scattered around, blankets 
 in arms, to find a spot that was dry enough to lay down on. Captain 
 Derby and Lieutenant Hill arrived early next morning (about 4.30 
 A. M. S'.mday, October 27th) and couldn't find a soul. The sleepers 
 were well camouflaged, a bit higher up on the slope of the hill back 
 of us, and got hell because they didn't sleep on the wet mud alongside 
 of the gun pits as directed. Ammunition pits and gun pits were com- 
 pleted during the day, and our well camouflaged shelter tents were put 
 up over our shallow safety trenches dug slightly up the side of the 
 hill. We fired 35 shots in registering the battery. 
 
 Monday, the 28th, we were up at daybreak, and at it again. Sand- 
 bags arrived and we began building our protection around the gun-pits 
 as the ground is so water-soaked that we can't dig in. We strike water 
 at 18 to 20 inches down. This is a fine mud-hole. Jerry threw quite a 
 few shells over today bursting all around us and getting a bunch of 
 "frog" horses. 
 
 Tuesday, the 29th, the detail was busy changing our P. C. about 
 five times, and finally settled the matter by getting a f ourgon wagon 
 sunk into the ground about 200 yards directly to the rear of No. 4 
 piece. Our forward O. P. is just over the edge of the crest in front 
 of us overlooking the German front lines, and we can get a good view 
 of the coming battle ground. Wednesday, the 30th, the battery fired 
 153 shots between 4 and 6 A. M. on some trench system for which the 
 data was received shortly after midnight. We took turns during the day 
 was received shortly after midnight. We took turns during the day 
 going over to the 78th delousing station and taking a hot shower bath 
 that was the nearest thing to home in some time. The Salvation Army 
 kitchen at Chatel-Chehery celebrated Hallowe'en this evening, one 
 night before time, as they expected the big drive to start any minute, 
 and the boys wouldn't have the opportunity to stop and take a bite. 
 Hot chocolate and crackers and home-made fudge made the evening 
 a tempting one to the boys of our echelon and they were all present, 
 swapping rumors with a battalion of infantry which the Savlation 
 Army had stopped on its way to the trenches and was loading up with 
 crackers, nuts and fudge. This happy spot became a regular hang-out 
 for the echelon and whenever the first sergeant wanted a detail to 
 carry ammunition to the gun position it was necessary to send down 
 to the Salvation Army for them. 
 
 Thursday, the 31st, we repeated our fire of yesterday between 4 
 and 6 A. M. There was an aeroplane bombardment with American 
 propoganda on the German lines telling the Huns that their fight was 
 
useless. Some of the circulars fell among us and we had a hot time 
 trying to read the German print. 
 
 Our aim.ing stake light gave us particular trouble at this stage of 
 the game on account of the poor batteries. Carl Schaeffer, the Thomas 
 Edison of the telephone detail, put his perpetual-motion energy to work 
 and his new contrivance kept things right. 
 
 Our liaison officer was ordered to report to the infantry at once. 
 Lieutenant Hill, sick for the last few days, was all in, but he refused 
 to let Lieutenant Taylor take his place, and finally succeeded in getting 
 Captain Derby to consent to his going in the condition he was in. The 
 runner detail Lieutenant Hill took with him consisted of Privates 
 Brody, Frances, Gottlieb and Forund. 
 
 November 1st, Friday, at 3.30 A. M., the last big drive began with 
 sixty gas shells per gun. Franch and American guns were massed 
 together for the final assault and the sky was ablaze with artillery fire. 
 We pitched in with H. E. at 3.50 A. M. and kept at it all morning and 
 afternoon, our battery getting off 1,444 rounds before firing was sus- 
 pended in the late P. M. During the night Jerry shelled the top of the 
 crests surrounding us with gas and H. E. and dropped several big ones 
 into the basin where we were without getting any of us. 
 
 Saturday, the 2d, we began firing at 5 :50 A. M. Repeated the data 
 of the day before on the "L" shaped trench system of the Germans. 
 Our infantry then went forward in a gallop, the left flank of the 
 Germans now falling back. Our limhers came up shortly after noon, 
 and at 4 P. M. we pulled out in a pouring rain. The roads were ter- 
 ribly blocked and it took us all night, cold and wet, to go about twelve 
 kilometers. We passed through Marcq, St. Juvin and Champignuelle, 
 crossing the Aire on a pontoon hastily constructed by the engineers. 
 Big fires were burning along the roads, barns, stores and supplies set 
 on fire by the retreating Germans, and at our frequent halts we tried 
 to dry our wringing wet shoes and clothes. We pulled off the road at 
 3.30 A. M. (Sunday) and rested up the horses. We lay down in the 
 mud and slept until 5.30 A. M., daylight, and then had a little cold 
 coffee and hardtack. At 6 A. M. Lieutenant Nissle}^ and twenty-five 
 drivers with their teams left the battery to be attached temporarily to 
 the 1st Battalion. The regiment was so seriously short of horses and 
 the Germans retreating so rapidly that the only hope of our catching 
 them was by the means of leaving one battaloin behind and using the 
 good horses of both battalions to get at least some of the guns going 
 after themi. 
 
 We hiked two kilometers more taking about five hours to make it 
 along the congested roads. We were hungry as wolves and in passing 
 some wonderfully cultivated fields the Germans had left behind un- 
 touched, we gathered and ate raw turnips and carrots. We pulled into 
 Verpel about noon and had the same rations for dinner and super 
 as we had for breakfast. Pitched tents and we were in our couches 
 at 6 P. M. 
 
 We woke up Monday morning to find it pouring rain again. The 
 echelon moved up today and there was quite a commotion in the bat- 
 tery over our being turned into an ammunition train because of the 
 lack of horses. Cleaned material all afternoon and also some filthy 
 billets the Germans had left behind, spotted here and there with 
 their dead. 
 
 32 
 
The next day, Tuesday, the 5th, we moved into the billets, as it 
 is continually raining and cold. Another bunch of our boys left to go 
 forward as ammunition carriers. 
 
 The rain was violent during the night and early Wednesday morn- 
 ing, and through the shell holes in our roof, water poured in on our 
 sleeping quarters. Everything was soaking wet. Time hung heavy. 
 These were the anxious days at the S. O. S., awaiting news from the 
 front. Mysteriously several decks of cards made their appearance in 
 our midst and we began a series of high-powered, beaucoup franc, 
 black-jack games that would have made many a Wall Street banker sit 
 up and take notice. 
 
 Thursday, the 7th, we were up at 4.30, breakfasted 5.15. Made 
 our packs, put 'em on our backs and moved forward at 9 A. M. All 
 the horses in the 2d Battalion were used to pull the guns alone. We 
 hiked all day without a rest or any food, passing through Thenorgues, 
 Buzancy, Harricourt, Sommanthe and at 5 P. M. pulled to the very 
 top of a steep hill at St. Pierremont. All along our march the roads 
 were littered with dead horses, German guns and ammunition dumps, 
 left behind in their retreat. We pitched tent in the rain, had a bite, and 
 pulled under the covers. 
 
 The next day we moved into billets in the town and began cleaning 
 out stables, barns, etc. We had only corned willy and coffee to eat, 
 and to help matters it was still pouring rain. 
 
 Saturday, November 9th, was the same, cleaning out some more 
 stables and raining all day. Rumors of an armistice with Germany 
 expected within two weeks. 
 
 Sunday, the 10th, still raining and still the same poor meals. No 
 rations in sight and we are limited to a quarter loaf of bread per man 
 for all day. No coffee and only corned willy served with a ration of 
 water. More rumors of cessation of hostilities, but the guns still firing 
 to our right flank. 
 
 During the morning of Monday, the 11th, it was officially rumored 
 that the armistice is signed. Nobody believed it. During the after- 
 noon we heard that the wireless station was receiving the different 
 paragraphs of the signed documents, but still we would not believe it. 
 
 Tuesday, November 12th, we received official notice of the armis- 
 tice. The surprising thing was how easily we all took the news, due, 
 no doubt, to the fact that it was hard to believe, hard to realize that 
 it was all over. We immediately began betting as to when we would 
 get home. It was rumored in the afternoon that Major General Alex- 
 ander promised the 77th Division to be on board ship December 2d 
 and home for Christmas. Quite a riot over the good news, in spite 
 of everybody doubting it. Beastly cold today and we had to move out 
 of our billets into the open field in shelter tents as the town had been 
 given over to the 305th Infantry. After dark we made a systematic 
 search of the town for lumber to make a big bonfire on the top of the 
 hill. We sat around the glowing fire and as our wood gave out we 
 proceeded to bum up all the chairs in St. Pierremont, wooden, plush 
 and otherwise. 
 
 Wednesday and Thursday we were up at 6.15 in the coldest weather 
 we've hit in France. Heard that the 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 32d and 42d Divi- 
 sions remain as the American Army of Occupation and that the 77th 
 sails for the U. S. A. about December 4th. Captain Derby went down 
 
 33 
 
to the divisional ration dump. He procured a 50-pound sack of coffee 
 and between a balky horse and a leaky sack he had to get off, hold 
 the leaking bag with one hand and walk or half drag his mount all 
 the way back to St. Pierremont. We had check roll call at night at 
 which the captain had to identify every man personally and account 
 for all the missing. 
 
 Friday, the 15th, we were up at 4.30 A. M, and after a nice bite of 
 breakfast, harnessed up our pieces. Pulled out of St. Pierremont. 
 Hiked through Sommanthe to a little group of farmhouses called War- 
 niforet, about three kilometers from Beaumont. We were billetted in 
 the houses, stables and barns, and after having nothing to eat all day 
 had a really good meal for supper. Our men who had gone up as the 
 1st Battalion ammunition train and the runners with Lieutenant Hill 
 met us here. 
 
 Saturday, the 16th, we began close order drill. Major Wamvig 
 made quite a speech to us on the road about parading. He intimated 
 our being in New York soon, and lots of money changed hands on bets 
 of our being home for Christmas. 
 
 We had to send eleven men away to the 2d Division going to Ger- 
 many. The captain did the square thing of drawing lots among the 
 men who had no allotees, and the ones to get stuck were Bill Cheney, 
 Red Hinds, Benny Polack, Mottig, Rees, Joseph Williams, Lane, Quig- 
 ley, Chapa, Hewitt, Wendolowski. Everybody felt badly over the 
 breaking up of the old bunch, and some of the boys shook hands with 
 tears in their eyes. 
 
 Sunday was a real day — no formation. The rumor now is that we 
 hike to Grand Pre, entrain for Chaumont, parade in Paris and then go 
 to our seaport. We were pulled out of bed at 9.30 P. M. to be paid off. 
 
 Monday and Tuesday we had plenty of close order drill. Turned 
 in all our horses Monday and Tuesday, sent away all our guns, lim- 
 bers, caissons and carriages to Grand Pre, drawn by motor truck. A 
 loading detail went along and Sergeant Meagher turned in some fire 
 control instruments to the division salvage agent for which he was 
 almost courtmartialed. 
 
 Wednesday, the 20th, the battery was up at 4.30, breakfasted at 
 5.15 and moved out at 7.30 A. M. Everybody carried their full packs. 
 Hiked through Sommanthe, Harricourt, Buzancy, stopping for lunch, 
 consisting of one hardtack and a cup of coffee. Our packs were put 
 in trucks at Buzancy and we raced the rest of the way on foot, through 
 Verpel and on to Beffu. Lieutenant Nissley set a terrific pace and as 
 cold as it was, our cooties got a turkish bath. It was just 6 P. M. when 
 we reached Beffu and we had covered 32 kilometers since morning. 
 After a piece of bread and a cup of coffee, we made our bunks in the 
 few buildings left standing but which were well ventilated by shell 
 holes. 
 
 Had terrible feed Thursday, nothing but corned willy and no bread. 
 We moved out at 1.30 P. M, going about two kilometers to Le Mort 
 Homme. We got pretty nice billets and anchored in them eagerly. 
 
 Friday, the 22d, we held a race among the batteries of the 2d Bat- 
 talion for a case of oatmeal. Eddie Lynch fell down when Battery F 
 had the race won, and we ate corned willy the next morning. 
 
 Saturday, the 23d, we went out on a hike and were shown how 
 thoroughly our battery alone had shot up and demolished several farm- 
 
 34 
 
houses and special targets around Grand Pre. Held retreat with the 
 battalion and a review by the major. 
 
 Sunday morning after breakfast we hiked the four kilometers to 
 Grand Pre to get a bath. Nothing doing — the boilers not working. Got 
 soap and pajamas at the Red Cross. What the hell are we going to do 
 with pajamas? Everybody sent cablegrams home from the Red Cross, 
 sending Thanksgiving greetings and saying we would be home for 
 Christmas. There was a big flapjack game in the evening and Mc- 
 Henry was caught in the wreck. 
 
 Monday the drizzle of yesterday turned into regular rain, and Lieu- 
 tenant Taylor took us out for a hike in the mud for a couple of hours. 
 When we got back the room where the firing sergeants slept was a 
 picture. The rain had come through the shell-torn roof, through the 
 telephone detail's room upstairs and down into their quarter. When- 
 ever anyone walked around upstairs a load of dirt would come down 
 from the ceiling above the sergeants and bunks, blankets, floors looked 
 like a trail pit in frog-hollow. 
 
 It was still raining Tuesday, the 26th, so we naturally took another 
 hike. Had some physical exercises in the P. M. At night there was a 
 "klu-klux klan" meeting in the "sergeants' " room with Jake Goodman, 
 Jimmie Ecock and Sergeant Dooley. It broke up in a riot. 
 
 Wednesday, the 27th, more rain. All sorts of colonels, lieutenant- 
 colonels and majors visited us in three autos. There was an inspection 
 of billets and now we know we are going home. Sergeant Schwitchen- 
 berg chopped his foot pretty severely with an axe. A dizzy night of 
 entertainment with "Whizz-bang" Garry. 
 
 Thursday, the 28th, was Thanksgiving Day. Pouring rain. No 
 formations. We had a peach of a dinner. Lamb fricasse, mashed po- 
 tatoes, dumplings, rice pudding extraordinaire with real nuts and rai- 
 sins in it, apricot pie, coffee, bread, a piece of cheese, chocolate and a 
 cigar for each one. Thanksgiving was celebrated till a late hour at 
 night in all billets. The rain poured in on top of us on our bunks all 
 night, and many of us slept in our raincoats. 
 
 Lieutenant Nissley, at the oflicers' mess, was informed at Thanks- 
 giving breakfast by the cook that a bountiful supply of eggs had been 
 received. "Niss" ordered some for himself. Toot-de-sweet! The 
 major immediately after this entered the room and joined the officer 
 at the table. 
 
 "Good morning. Major," said Lieutenant Nissley, getting up and 
 gleefully rubbing his hands. "You're just in time. I just ordered some 
 eggs for myself. Shall I order some for you?" 
 
 "There'll be no eggs this morning, Nissley. Just cancel that order 
 for yourself," the Major gruffly responded. 
 
 "Bring me another plate of hash. Fox," said the Lieutenant hun- 
 grily. 
 
 Friday and Saturday it was still raining. It cleared up a bit Sat- 
 urday P. M. and Lieutenant Taylor had the battery out in the field 
 playing such games as "Whip," "Bounce 'em up," and the race with 
 three hop-straddle jumps. At night we tied up our section blanket- 
 rolls and put them outdoors expecting an order to move. 
 
 Sunday, December 1st, we were called at 4 A. M. Had breakfast in 
 the dark, rolled our packs by candle light, and at 5.40 A. M. were on 
 the march to Grand Pre. It was freezing cold. We built huge bon- 
 
 35 
 
fires at Grand Pre. Hung around without mess until 1 P. M. Were 
 then carried by motor trucks to an old German camp called Saalburg 
 at Autrey. Brought our guns and carriages down to the station at 
 Autry, tied behind trucks. Had a feed at 6.30 P. M., and lay down 
 in crummy straw bunks in the prison camp. 
 
 It was a restless and cold night. We were pulled out of our bunks 
 at 4 A. M., but did not begin loading material until 10 A. M. Finished 
 in quick order. We left Autry at 1 P. M. in U. S. A. box cars. Sev- 
 enty men to the car with packs and rations, yet we were all in good 
 spirits. Not a wink of sleep all night for anyone. We were piled on 
 top of one another, cramped and freezing cold. We were stiff in 
 every limb by morning. 
 
 We detrained at Latrecy 6 A. M. (Tuesday, the 3d). Had break- 
 fast on the station in a pouring rain. Somebody discovered the Cafe 
 de la Gare had Plennesy Triple Star Cognac in bottles, and it was 
 flowing like water in short order. Nearly 200 bottles were sold to the 
 regiment before the colonel of the M. P.'s got wise and closed the 
 cafe up. We hiked about 13 kilometers to Arc-en-Barrois, without 
 packs, thank the Lord, and what members of the battery did survive 
 the march, pulled into Arc-en-Barrois pickled, canned or stewed. It 
 was a banner day for alcoholics in the history of Battery F. We were 
 assigned to bunks in wooden barracks placed neatly in a thick, boggy 
 mud basin. It was a small but inviting town and we sailed out again 
 in search of elixirs to ease the stiffness of our joints and smooth out 
 the wrinkles in our frozen stomachs. There followed two days of 
 .unrestricted drinking, so long as the joy-rider could pilot himself to 
 port — and the orders to the Provost Guard were to let joy be uncon- 
 fmed these first three days after our arrival. It was our first chance 
 to get something to drink since we hit the front, and the excitement 
 of being among civilization again had its share in the panic. 
 
 There were, however, a few arrests for failure to report ship in 
 dock after the hike from Latrecy and for some of the more trouble- 
 some warriors who wanted to start a republic of their own in rvrc-en- 
 Barrois. The battery enjoyed some wonderful meals in town. We 
 could buy anything our hearts desired for francs. Roast veal, pork- 
 choiis, fried rabbits, chicken, and beefsteaks were in order with beau- 
 coup pommes de terre and vin blanc. 
 
 Friday, the 6th, formations began and Lieutenant Nissley took the 
 battery out in the P. M. "snipe hunting" for rabbits. There was a 
 ferociously wild inspection of quarters, equipment and side-arms Sat- 
 urdav, and quite a rumpus was raised over a few rusty pistols or the 
 slightest infraction of regulation equipment. The sergeants were 
 granted permission to sleep in billets in town and Rue du Marche, 
 otherwise known to Captain Derby as Sergeants' Row, was totally 
 captured by Battery F. The officers of our battery obtained a nice 
 home at 66 Rue Anatole Gabelle and in short order had everything 
 coming their way from music to cognac. 
 
 The boys promenaded through the town Sunday afternoon and 
 Duckworth afforded us and the French civilians lots of amusement by 
 innocently marching at the head of the line with a rabbit foot tied to 
 the back of his collar, unknown to him. 
 
 The week of Monday, the 9th, we began close order again. Cor- 
 poral Gabarino was assigned a squad and was told by the captain to 
 
 36 
 
march his squad off. The command Gabby gave has never been de- 
 ciphered, and the squad members had the presence of mind to march 
 off in a direction as far away from the officers and battery as was 
 possible. 
 
 About the 10th of the month Bob Clugston stopped blowing mess 
 calls for us and joined the Argonne Players. 
 
 The next few days were all rainy and we were put through such 
 hot stuff as cannoneers' drill, firing imitation barrages, doing gun drill 
 and cannoneers' post. 
 
 Thursday afternoon we had a "dummy review." It was the first 
 time a good many of the boys had ever gone through the thing, and at 
 the command, "Eyes Right," a few of the drivers snapped into it, do- 
 ing a hand salute at the same time, seeing Captain Derby do it that 
 way. The sergeants were conspicuous at this dummy review by their 
 absence and they got hell after retreat. Seven men left for Aix les 
 Bain on furlough. Sergeants Anderson, Garry, McKenna; Corporal 
 Jackson, Cook Malatesta ; Privates Duffy and George Johnson. 
 
 Skillman deserted the sergeants' mess the next day to eat at Cognac 
 Maggies. 
 
 We got all dolled up for the inspection Saturday, the 14th, but 
 Lieutenant Nissley did the act and everything went on smoothly. At 
 night Corporal "Duckie" borrowed some of Mag's equipment and mas- 
 queraded as a young Demoiselle through Rue du Marche. He capti- 
 vated one by one, Manwarren, McDaniels and Swada, and took them 
 in turn promenading in the woods. He collected from each respectively 
 ten francs, twelve francs and fifteen francs with a box of cigarettes 
 and a button off Swada's blouse as a souvenir. 
 
 Sunday the "Montrot Trio" made their usual nightly dinner calls. 
 They were evidently dined and wined too well, for when they blew in 
 around midnight, it was mighty dizzy sailing. 
 
 Monday, the 16th, we had reveille at 5.30 A. M. and hiked in a 
 pouring rain for seven kilometers with the mud and water oozing in 
 and out of our torn and worn only pair of shoes. After a two-hour 
 wait in a large soggy field, where it rained some more, the entire bri- 
 gade was reviewed by General McCloskey. Hiked back to our mud- 
 hole at Arc-en-Barrois. In addition it was our battery's turn to do 
 guard mount, followed by guard duty all through that rainy night. 
 
 There followed two days of perpetual rain, and in spite of the 
 stone walks already in construction, the mud in and around our bar- 
 racks was indescribable. Hauk cleverly pictured the scene to us one 
 night, by stepping into the barracks door in a downpour, turning 
 around, saying politely and seriously to the person he imagined behind 
 him : "Never mind the oars, George, leave 'em in the boat." 
 
 We received new shoes Thursday — English ones, litti' better than 
 nothing. Captain Derby was the battalion commander today and Lieu- 
 tenant Taylor our battery commander. Captain Derby on his bat- 
 talion inspection tour found some thing to make comm.ent upon. He 
 sent the following order as battalion commander to Battery F (amount- 
 ing, in reality, to writing himself the note) : 
 
 "To C. O. Battery F: 
 
 During his inspection this morning the battalion commander found 
 oats sprouting in one of the fourgon wagons belonging to Battery F, 
 
 37 
 
as well as an empty champagne bottle in another wagon. He directs 
 that immediate steps be taken to remedy this condition and that you 
 explain by indorsement hereon the action taken. 
 
 By order of Captain Derby, 
 
 Warren W. Nissley, 
 
 1st Lieut. 305th F. A., 
 
 Acting Adj." 
 
 Lieutenant Taylor bustled around for a while, note in hand, and 
 responded to the battalion commander to the effect that he had sent 
 out a detail of reapers who gathered in the oats and that that he had 
 issued instructions that in the future whenever the battery left cham- 
 pagne bottles around where the inspectors could find 'em, that they 
 should be sure and leave one drink in the bottle for the inspector. 
 
 Saturday, the 21st, instead of our customary morning inspection, 
 the regiment marched out to a nice soft, muddy field, and played sol- 
 diers. The colonel gave us two rehearsals on receiving regimental 
 colors. As soon as we got back to barracks with mud all over our 
 shoes and leggings there was a battalion inspection at 11 A. M. 
 
 Sunday the guard forgot to waken the tireless, unrelenting, punc- 
 tual Si Kingston, so none of the sergeants were out to reveille. Oh, 
 happy day ! Every little bunch had their own little home in town, 
 where their obliging and conscientious little French madame would 
 prepare their evening meals so as to recall our own home-made dinner 
 that mother used to make. We could never discover all of these pal- 
 aces, homes, dives, where the different cliques and elements of our 
 battery went wont to frequent. Yet, the one home that surpassed all 
 others was that where Marshank, Gallagher, Brody, Lynch, Kehr, 
 Gross and Fried dined each evening at 6 sharp. La Belle Madeleine 
 was always there at 5 P. M. to buy milk and Eddie Lynch spent an 
 hour with her trying frantically to demonstrate the English language. 
 Whenever words were necessary to enlighten the mystified Miss, Gross 
 did the interpreting into French. Our clever young demoiselle would 
 womanly believe only the contrary of his statements. It is a miracle 
 that between the wiles of Gross and the wooing of the amusing, de- 
 monstrative Lynch, the poor young thing did not go crazy. And, if it 
 were not for the fact that she had a fiance in the French Army, some 
 one in that crowd would have stayed behind in France when our outfit 
 pulled out, and hooked up with her. Well, even we, ive have to admit 
 she was nice — the nearest thing to an American girl yet discovered in 
 France. 
 
 Monday, the 23d, and the next day, Tuesday, we had some real 
 sport, in spite of the perpetual rain. We had mounted drill with the 
 guns and caissons, the first two sections doing the mounted drill with 
 Captain Derby Monday, while the third and fourth sections played war 
 with Lieutenant Nissley, using drivers for gun crews. Tuesday the 
 sections were changed, the limbers only being used in the mounted 
 drill. We laughed and yelled like kids while the horses galloped 
 around dashing into position after the captain with his legs swinging 
 wildly and his whistle a-blowing. We were soaking wet, but we en- 
 joyed it and took pleasure also in viewing a keen horse-race between 
 the Captain, Lieutenant Nissley and Lieutenant Taylor on the way 
 home from the field. 
 
 38 
 
Tuesday night, the 24th, the battalion show gave its first perform- 
 ance under the management and directorship of our Lieutenant Hill 
 at the Arc-en-Barrois Opera House, otherwise known as the "Y" hut. 
 It was a howling success. The battery members who contributed to 
 the success of the event were Bill Marshak, Max Brody, "Benedictine'' 
 Duckworth, Bill Benjamin, Babe McLoughlin, Kehr, Rosenzweig and 
 Dupree. Brown entertained on the piano. This was Christmas Eve 
 and Chief Labrode was caught returning to his quarters at 1 A. M. 
 The Provost Guard halted him in the rain, but the chief got away with 
 it by answering in French and in the dark the guard thought it was 
 a "frog." 
 
 Christmas Day there were no formations. Most of us stayed in 
 bed until about 10 A. M, and then began celebrating. Benedictine and 
 Triple Sec made a sure and quick ending to a great many of us, who 
 thought we were in for a wild time. One in particular was out in the 
 woods on his back and quite a few were carried to their beds. The 
 furlough boys arrived in the afternoon. The battalion show was re- 
 peated in the evening and went stronger than the previous night. 
 
 Gun drill was resumed the 26th with Lieutenant Hill in charge, he 
 seeming to be the only officer who had weathered the Christmas storm. 
 The ground was covered with a slight fall of snow. The official 
 rumor now is that we leave here December 29th, embark for the States 
 January 6th. So McHenry made a couple of more bets on his "sure 
 thing" that we would be in New York by January 18th. 
 
 Friday we had the same old drill in the rain and Saturday an in- 
 spection by Captain Derby, followed by an equipment check of all 
 sections. Sunday, the 29th, First Sergeant Dooley received official 
 notice to leave at once for the States tO' be discharged. Monday, the 
 30th, we had a review in the big field with "Watch-me-Dolly" at the 
 head. Then some gun drill. At retreat the captain made a brief but 
 touching speech on Dooley 's departure for the States. He left Tues- 
 day morning on the 8 o'clock bus for Chaumont. 
 
 During the day came the glad tidings of nine more men to leave 
 on furloughs and with it the sad certainty that we would be another 
 month in France. The four officers of our battery must have had some 
 inside dope on the situation, because last night they held a dinner for 
 four of the English nurses from the hospital. It was an up-to-date 
 society event with wine, dancing, 'n everything. Brownie played the 
 piano and drank what the officers couldn't, or, rather, what Lieutenant 
 Hill didn't see, and Capello and Steiner jazzed with their violin and 
 guitar. We wouldn't dare hint that this wasn't the only party that 
 our officers pulled ofif in Arc, for the reason that we do not like to 
 accuse anybody without being able to prove it, and we can not prove it. 
 They must have been too clever for us at camouflaging, or, perhaps, 
 no more parties were staged owing to our supposition that Lieutenants 
 Hill and Taylor didn't fancy their debut into high society. For one 
 thing, we know that "Doc" would rather drink where nobody could 
 watch him or where his drinking would not be interfered with by mere 
 dancing. 
 
 January 1, 1919. 
 
 The nine lucky devils to go on furlough were aroused by faithful 
 Si Kingston at the wonderfully romantic hour of 3 A. M. The per- 
 
 39 
 
missionaires consisted of Sergeants Ecock, Greenlee, Jacobson; Cor- 
 porals Kehoe and Teator ; Bnglar Millon ; Privates Sheppard, Frashour 
 and Christofferson. Chambery and Challe des Eaux was the destina- 
 tion of these nine, with the privilege of visiting Aix-les-Bains. But 
 the lucky break this gang had was that there was no transportation 
 at the expiration of their seven days to bring 'em back to Arc and the 
 poor lonesome boys had such a good time celebrating their sixteen-day 
 stay in Chambery that Ecock, Frashour and Sheppard had to be taken 
 to the hospital. 
 
 The first week in January there was a thin covering of snow on 
 the ground and our drills were not so boresome. But from the 7th to 
 the 21st we had practically an unbroken spell of rain. Occasionaly we 
 had a little sleet to make the road hikes dangerous, but most of the 
 time it was mud, mud, mud, and drill, drill, drill. Through it all our good 
 American grit and sense of humor carried us with a smile. The work 
 and troubles of one day were forgotten the next when some amusing 
 incident occurred among our men or officers and everything that 
 brought a smile helped drive away the germ of homesickness. Lieu- 
 tenant Taylor pulled a funny one while drilling the battery on January 
 20. The battery was marching in column of squads and was then 
 brought into platoon fronts. Lieutenant Hill was in charge of the 
 second platoon and the command was executed admirably. Lieutenant 
 Taylor did not see Lieutenant Hill and absent-mindedly forgetting his 
 presence, complimented the platoon sergeant on the success of the 
 movement. Lieutenant Hill stepped forward at the close of the ad- 
 dress, saluting with a snappy "Thank you very much, Lieutenant Tay- 
 lor." "Blondie" came back to earth with a sudden jerk at this stage 
 and reddening up, replied in an undertone that was audible to the en- 
 tire battery: "Damn you, if I had any ammunition I would put some 
 in you." 
 
 There's an awful funny one that Barty doesn't want us to tell 
 about him. He claims that the following stor>' is fictitious, and to say 
 the truth, the source of our information was rather unreliable, but 
 here goes, even if we do have to fight Bart a "dool." 
 
 Bart had a habit of hanging around in the town "Boulangerie," 
 where Mile. Louise distributed circular loaves of that wonderful 
 French bread along with her smiles. Barty couldn't "parlez" very 
 much and in order to enlarge his French vocabulary and his acquain- 
 tance with the young lady he spent his many oflF hours sitting on the 
 counter alongside of the Mile., his trusty little dictionary in one hand 
 and his free arm around the young lady. The bashful mademoiselle 
 had the teasing habit of asking Barty something difficult in French 
 which would necessitate his unhitching his free right arm from its, 
 comfortable location to stir the pages of his little friend dictionary 
 held in his left hand. After the troublesome word had been found and 
 her sentence understood, Barty would "Oui, Oui," a few times and 
 back went his right arm to its snug quarters. This was repeated many 
 times during each session, when, one day in the heat of conversation 
 and exasperation, Barty finally flung the embarrassing little book on 
 the floor and continued the seance without interruption. 
 
 Oh, varied were the methods, means and where-withals to beguile 
 ourselves into believing we were happy and to fight away our dis- 
 contentment. Even the venerable and arduous John Quinn, one cold, 
 
 40 
 
cold night in the last part of January once quit work by his candle 
 light long enough to drink a good helping of Triple Sec and he wanted 
 to kiss every old woman on the block. The following Sunday it must 
 have still had its effect on him, because we are told he was seen even 
 talking to Dick's housekeeper, Mme. Louise. 
 
 Wild boar and venison dinners cooked in several hangouts in the 
 town with that wonderful French flavor helped make many an evening 
 enjoyable that would have been lonesome and dreary. The entire bat- 
 tery to a man was eating at least one meal a day somewhere in town. 
 We spent our money lavishly on good food and it was the best way 
 we could possibly spend it. We were all getting stout and rosy- 
 cheeked and just waiting for General Pershing to send us home in a 
 hurry so mother could see how much weight we had put on from good 
 eats. 
 
 We turned in our revolvers January 25th on Saturday and at noon 
 sent our caissons and limbers up to Latrecy with a detail to clean and 
 paint them up when the tractor finished pulling them through the mud 
 and snow. The caissons were stored in a steel hangar in the large 
 aviation field near Latrecy. The guns and limbers arrived at the 
 same hangar January 28th. 
 
 The next day the battery was quarantined owing to the epidemic of 
 "flu" which had broken out. In two days we had fifty cases taken to 
 the hospital and all others were confined to barracks. It was forbid- 
 den to eat meals outside barracks. Mess kits had to be left in the 
 kitchen and boiled for fifteen minutes. Every precaution was taken, 
 even the laughable one of having the well men eat in one bunch in the 
 mess hall, followed by the quarantined bunch. "Flu" masks had to be 
 worn — whenever the officers were around — and we had to gargle be- 
 fore each meal with a preparation of iodine and water. By the last 
 day of the month the hospital list had increased to sixty, the fifty sus- 
 pect cases confined to barracks were removed to the Hospice, and 
 the entire 2d Battalion quarantined. Tolte as evening mess in the 
 kitchen gave out to each of the well men hard macaroni sticks to sip 
 our coff'ee through saying it was the doctor's orders as a means of 
 sterilization and he caught lots of suckers and sippers. 
 
 FEBRUARY. 
 
 The first day of the month we received official orders that we leave 
 for Latrecy February 7th and everything must be packed. Sunday the 
 2d, we issued our haversacks and pack carriers to drivers and non- 
 coms and the unfortunate members of the battery who had been 
 shipped to the hospital lost all or most of their personal belongings in 
 a clean-out of all barracks. The next day the captain made an in- 
 spection of all billets in town to find excess junk in our rooms, but 
 owing to our landladies' cooperation, he had no luck. 
 
 Tuesday, the 4th, we had a practice hike in the morning with our 
 packs. Word was received of Klink's death in the hospital at Chau- 
 mont. It was the first in the battery and all of us took the news hard. 
 The captain and six men left immediately for Chaumont to attend his 
 funeral and a cloak of despondency settled over everybody which took 
 a long time to shake off, for soon after we lost five more men from the 
 
 41 
 
same "flu," Turner, Englekeis, Youni, George Smith and Corporal 
 Siegel. 
 
 February 5th Bill Marshank received his regimental citation for 
 valorous conduct and bravery as a runner. 
 
 We were assigned a new top-sergeant February 6th — Fred A. Wal- 
 lace, an O. T. S. man and formerly of Battery A, this regiment. Ser- 
 geant Tingle was transferred to Battery B and that evening when he 
 dropped in to see his old gang at "Cognac Mag's," he was tendered 
 a rousing farewell and a wet one. 
 
 The day of our departure from Arc-en-Barrais was changed from 
 the 7th to the 9th and it was a lucky break. The rain we had been 
 having for a week turned into a severe snow storm late Thursday, the 
 6th, and the weather became bitterly cold Friday and Saturday. 
 
 We were called Sunday morning at 4,45 and after breakfast loaded 
 our packs on the four wagons that Captain Derby had generously 
 hired from the French to carry our heavily laden packs to Latrecy. 
 We bade a hasty farewell to Arc and set out at 9.30. It was a stiff 
 walk of 13 kilometers to the station and we are quite sure Monsieur 
 Reechard would never have survived the trip if he had had his pack 
 to carry. The entire regiment was served hot chocolate and sand- 
 wiches by the Y. M. in a big tent near the railroad station, and we 
 put in quite a supply of cigarettes and chocolate. The train pulled 
 out at 3.30 P. M. and for the first time in army life we were com- 
 fortable in our "forty hommes" in spite of the cold. There was plenty 
 of hay in each car and an average of only 20 men to the car. 
 
 We awoke Monday morning to find ourselves passing through 
 beautiful open country and not a sign of snow. Tuesday, the 11th, 
 shortly after noon, we passed through Sable, the new headquarters of 
 our division, and at 4 P. M. reached Noyen and began unloading our 
 train. The battery hiked seven kilometers with full packs and three 
 blankets to Malicorne and it nearly killed 'em. We were assigned 
 billets at the furthest end of the town and trucks were going back and 
 forth from Noyen to Malicorne throughout the night. Sergeant Jacob- 
 son, Corporal Quinn, Privates Marshank, McLoughlin, Schaeffer, 
 Forund, Finch and Kiernan were left behind in Noyen at the station 
 on an all night baggage detail ; but, thanks to a little knowledge of 
 French and a kind-hearted French blacksmith home on a twenty-day 
 furlough from his outfit, they had a pleasant restful night sleeping 
 on the floor of his blacksmith shop with a bottle of cognac for com- 
 pany and a couple of wild-eyed French "permissionaires." Bill Mar- 
 shank was a sick boy before the festivities began but came out of his 
 daze when the fun started. 
 
 The first few days at Malicorne were busy ones, getting our kitch- 
 ens agoing, our billets and bunks arranged, salvaging straw for our 
 mattresses and a hundred other things. There were good meals to 
 be had in town, however, and plenty of vin blanc, so, what the hell, 
 a little work didn't bother us. 
 
 The orderly room was a good ways from regimental headquarters, 
 the officers' quarters and the officers' mess, so bicycle riding rapidly 
 resumed popularity. Captain Derby was "Johnny on the spot," and 
 the second day in Malicorne came up the main street towards our bil- 
 lets riding a well-battered bicycle rolling and swaying from side to 
 side. Nugent was the first to encounter him and noticing the difficulty 
 
 42 
 
the skipper was having in navigating was afraid to salute for fear the 
 captain would take a spill returning it. 
 
 The 14th, St. Valentine's Day in the civilized world, was market 
 day in Malicorne, being as it was Friday, and it was a circus. The 
 big square was a frantic, howling mob of country women with their 
 wares, and eager bargaining townsfolk anxious to complete their pur- 
 chases before the more liberal American soldiers could slip away from 
 a formation and arrive on the scene. Rabbits, chickens, eggs — all in 
 little baskets, changed ownership for beaucoup francs, and the side- 
 show peddlers, their canvas tents hastily thrown up, called attention 
 to their bargains by ringing bells and blowing funny horns. 
 
 Saturday the colonel had us out for a regimental review and in- 
 spection of packs. He must have bawled somebody out, 'cause the 
 major gave us a little speech to the effect: "You have proved your- 
 selves soldiers, now let's look it." In the afternoon the regimental 
 team trimmed the officers at baseball. 
 
 Lieutenant McNevins joined the battery on the 16th after enjoying 
 a "Class C" leave to Paris, and the first thing he did was to make a 
 speech to us about sanitation. 
 
 Drills in the rain continued regularly and on the 18th by way of 
 diversion we hiked eighteen kilometers to let B. P. Glassford, our new 
 brigadier-general, look us over. The whole brigade was received in 
 a large field the other side of Noyen and after the affair the general 
 held a friendly little tete-a-tete with the officers. 
 
 Th next day we had a regimental review and inspection by the 
 colonel in a pouring rain, and a speech about our review tomorrow at 
 Sable by General Pershing. 
 
 We were up at 5.30 Thursday morning, but the review by General 
 Pershing was called off. But as it was still raining the colonel thought 
 it would be a good idea to hold another regimental review, and out 
 to the field we went. 
 
 Friday we had encore rain, so we marched out to the drill field and 
 had a battalion review. When we got back the market had sold out 
 and we had to do without eggs. 
 
 Saturday was George Washington's Birthday and in celebration of 
 it we had no reveille and breakfast was served about 8.30. The 
 Provost Guard had a wild night keeping order in town, and Sunday 
 there was many a "big" head. 
 
 Monday, the 24th, Corporal Quinn left on his well-earned pass to 
 Paris. The battery left in trucks at 8.45 A .M. for our divisional re- 
 view at Sable by General Pershing. We were standing in ranks for 
 five hours with aching backs and legs. When things did start, how- 
 ever, the sight was impressive. General Pershing and staff with Major 
 General Alexander inspected personally every organization in the field 
 while the divisional band of 226 pieces filled the air with wonderful 
 music. Medals were presented to the heroes of the division and then 
 began the review. Our brigade led off with General Glassford at the 
 head. About fifty yards past the reviewing stand the entire column 
 passed at double time through a mud hole. We sank to our shoetops 
 in the soft splashing soil and struggled to free one foot at a time. 
 Everybody laughed over it — the general, the troops and the French 
 spectators. 
 
 We had our usual reveille the following morning, but the day was 
 
 43 
 
declared a holiday on account of the high praise the division received 
 from General Pershing at the review yesterday. 
 
 Things went along smoothly enough with the officers studying 
 Infantry Drill Regulations and all of us wondering when, oh, when, 
 would we get those rifles that were now rumored we are certain of 
 receiving before we leave Alalicorne. 
 
 On Friday, the 28th, Captain Derby and Captain Dana, figuring 
 that carp fishing would be a little more interesting than infantry regu- 
 lations and hearing that they were biting good at the lake six kilo- 
 meters away, borrowed a neat looking high-perched French carriage 
 in which to make the trip. They arrived with two fishing poles and 
 potatoes and carrots for bait. The two set out with a frisky horse 
 ; orrowed from the town blacksmith. The spirited young nag tried to 
 make a runaway down the main street and they almost lost a wheel 
 ofi the carriage. The two captains had no luck at the lake, however, 
 and we believe they can blame it on the bait. 
 
 MARCH. 
 
 Saturday, the 1st, another regimental inspection on the drill field. 
 Our belts and haversacks had been washed so often for our many 
 inspections that by this time they were a ghastly white. At a meeting 
 of the officers and non-coms of the battalion in the afternoon, we were 
 told that we could expect to leave this area about April 1st. 
 
 Close order drill and road hikes became less tedious to us the 
 entire first week of March, and we enjoyed real sunny springtime. 
 Even the captain came out for hikes and then one morning he was 
 so full of "pep" he gave us setting up exercises in his original Camp 
 Upton style. The little French kids who used to follow us around at 
 drills and count "one — two" for us were highly amused by the cap- 
 lam's antics leading the battery in physical exercises. They imitated 
 him at every count and had us and the captain laughing wildly at 
 their freakish efforts. 
 
 Thursday, the 6th, the captain held an examination of non-coms 
 in drilling squads and explaining squad movements as the book said 
 it should be done. In the evening the 152d F. A. Brigade dance was 
 held at the Chateau de Courcilles. Nine men of our battery made the 
 trip there and back in the army taxi-cab, and had the extreme pleasure 
 of climbing over half a dozen soldiers' backs to get a chance to dance 
 two and a quarter minutes with a real live American "Y" girl or Red 
 Cross nurse. The Comte de Murat was present with his daughter, 
 the Comtess. Sergeant Jacobson and Corporal Jackson got stuck 
 with her — the former for three dances. 
 
 Saturday, the 8th, we had our inspection of all equipment on our 
 drill field. Another batch of permissionaires left on furlough for 
 the Pyrenees. 
 
 Bill Marshak got back Sunday from Paris and told such wonderful 
 stories of The Pantheon de la Guerre and Boulevard des Italiens that 
 all battery members possessing sufficient funds determined to make 
 instant application for "class C" leaves. 
 
 Rifles arrived about this time for everybody, sergeants included. 
 The thought of infantry rifle and bayonet drill was another incentive to 
 get a furlough and the competition became keen among the applicants 
 
 44 
 
for Paris leave ; for an original and forcible excuse to have their 
 "permissions" granted immediately. One's commercial house in the 
 U. S. desired the sudden opening of a branch at Paris ; another's con- 
 cern desired samples of Parisian embroideries and hosiery; uncles, 
 fathers, grandmothers, brothers, were conveniently moved from all 
 parts of the globe to Paris with a street address that might have been 
 the Gendarmerie; telegrams from imaginary relatives or concerns de- 
 manding instant presentation of some battery member at Monsieurs 
 So-and-So's law office in Paris ; these were the means and wiles em- 
 ployed to persuade our skeptical but liberal division boss to let us have 
 a peep at gay Paree! 
 
 Messrs. Dupree, Liebler and lots of others had their passes come 
 through and on March 14th Captain Derby left for Paris, theoreti- 
 cally as an official delegate from the division to the American Legation, 
 but maybe he wanted to see Paris, too. He brought back a nobby new 
 raincoat which was a long time coming to take the place of his other 
 one that Lieutenant Hill left up in the Argonne. The captain spent 
 quite some time with Lieutenant Burden at Paris, who was acting as 
 the secretary for the American Delegation at the Peace Conference. 
 
 Brody, Lynch, Gottlieb and Jacobson left Sunday morning, the 
 16th (just in time to miss the distribution and cleaning of our well 
 cosmoleyned rifles, to accompany the 77th Division football team to 
 Paris). We take this opportunity of thanking the general or what- 
 ever bloke was responsible for the granting of Paris passes through 
 this ruse. 
 
 Sergeants Jacobson, Gottlieb and Lynch were picked up in Paris 
 for looking at the st)Ies in the window of the Gallerie Lafayette, in- 
 stead of saluting some tow-headed M. P. lieutenant. Lynch had the 
 good fortune of not having name taken, but the next night matters 
 were more than evened when Eddie had his pocketbook taken instead 
 of his name. Max landed the cream of Paris and the gang recuperated 
 from the strain of their visit by staying two days at Sable on the 
 way back. 
 
 Lieutenant Nissley's order for immediate discharge in the U. S. 
 came through and he left for Le Mans, the 20th. The same day 
 came the news of the postponement of the 77th Division's sailing date 
 to April 24th. We were sick enough of this useless hanging around 
 France. The battery went down to the cafes in unison and steeped 
 their sorrow and disappointment in vin blanc. 
 
 On the morning of Monday, the 24th, Sergeants Wallace, Greenlee 
 and Jacobson left for Paris. Sergeant Anderson became the acting 
 mess sergeant for six days and we are certain his little gang must 
 have enjoyed some Epicurean dinners in high style. 
 
 Society notes : Captains Derby and Pike spent the last Sunday of 
 the month in La Fleche. Captain Mitchell saw them off at the rail- 
 road station. Sergeants Garry and McHenry were guests at a social 
 tea at Marshak's and Will Hundt's wash-house. 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 Tuesday was the first day of the month and soaped candy was 
 served to all sweet-toothed individuals, the entire orderly room force 
 taking the bait. 
 
 45 
 
The Provost Guard was disbanded Wednesday, the 2d, and our 
 battery was moved out of its present quarters to a cluster of small 
 farmhouses about two kilometers the other side of town. This move 
 was necessary in order to accommodate and make room for the great 
 number of casuals assigned to our regiment, and naturally, it was Bat- 
 tery F that was picked on. 
 
 We received our para-tpyhoid injection April 3, and were a pretty 
 sick bunch for a few days following the "shot." Inspections, how- 
 ever, went on just the same. April 4th rifle inspection, after impa- 
 tiently awaiting the inspector about four hours on the cold, wet field. 
 April 5th equipment inspection by the lieutenant-colonel. The big in- 
 spection by the A. E. C. was held on April 7th on our drill field. It 
 was sweet music to our ears to learn that the inspectors complimented 
 the regiment for our neatness and uniformity. 
 
 Marshak and Brody broke into the limelight again in our regimen- 
 tal show which was successfully staged at the "Y" hut the evenings of 
 April 7th and 9th. 
 
 The "Battle of Malicorne" was being fought during this period 
 with Sergeants McHenry and Garry as corps commanders. The battle 
 lasted four days. The field operations were suspended on the last 
 day after Mac and Whizz went "beecyelette" riding. Both were well 
 loaded, Mac with a bag under his arm containing a dozen eggs. At 
 the bottom of the steep hill coming down the bridge at Malicorne, 
 Whizz went "over the top" — of his handlebars — and Mac followed 
 his partner. Both landed in a heap on the hard gravel road and re- 
 ceived grave wounds putting them out of action. Mac got up with 
 his right hand cut in slivers, but miraculously managed to keep his 
 entire dozen eggs unbroken in the fall. 
 
 We had an "Abandon Camp Drill" Saturday, the 12th, and Monday 
 a regimental medical inspection. 
 
 Tuesday, the 15th, the A. E. C. physical inspection was held in 
 Malicorne and we walked to the town and back in a pouring rain. 
 
 "Blondie" Taylor did not show up in the orderly room till a late 
 hour Wednesday, the 16th. He and Si Kingston had had a wild night. 
 Some drunken "frog" ex-soldier locked out by his loving wife occupy- 
 ing the building next to "Blondie" tried to gain entrance into his home 
 at 3 A. M. by ladder through Lieutenant Taylor's quarters. Nobody 
 in the neighborhood got any sleep after that and Si had to call a 
 gendarme to end the trouble. 
 
 The morning of the 17th we were up at 5.30, made and loaded 
 our packs on the wagons hired to carry 'em to Noyen. Foray showed 
 up at the last minute minus his overseas cap. He had spent a wild 
 night celebrating our departure from Malicorne — and donned one of 
 the captain's head-pieces. Hiked to the station at Noyen where the 
 "Y" served us lunch. Jackson, Spencer and Quinn carried Doc Hill's 
 raincoat for him to Noyen on their truck. In one pocket they dis- 
 covered a bottle and the three slipped away to a deserted spot to help 
 themselves to a long drink of good cognac. Their disappointment was 
 unspeakable, however, when Doc's hidden treasure turned out to be 
 a bottle of plain ordinary "vin rouge." We were loaded into our box 
 
 46 
 
cars and most of us forgot to put water in our canteens. The train 
 pulled out at 2.20 P. M. 
 
 We arrived at Brest about noon without breakfasting. We could 
 see the harbor of Brest and a fleet of transports at anchor. The sight 
 set us all cheering wildly. Rushed through the A. E, C. kitchen for 
 mess and with our packs and overcoats hiked about six kilometers to 
 our squad tents at Camp Pontanezan. Had a battery equipment check 
 and a good meal at the Embarkation kitchen, with a wonderful system 
 of quick, tasteful mess. 
 
 We turned in our French money for exchange into American, early 
 Saturday morning, the 19th. We had a medical inspection and a bath, 
 by the numbers. The soap furnished reeked of mustard gas or some- 
 thing worse. No casualties were reported. In the afternoon, wearing 
 our packs and overcoats, we hiked down for an equipment inspection 
 that looked weak and foolish to us. 
 
 Sunday, the 20th, we were ordered to make packs for another in- 
 spection. Then the order was changed to leave immediately for em- 
 barkation on the Agamemnon. Left camp at 12.20 P. M. without din- 
 ner. We hiked for six kilometers under a boiling sun with packs and 
 overcoats. No one can appreciate the comfort and delight of such a 
 hike without making it personally. Bachman and Hage were out visit- 
 ing and narrowly missed going along with us to the States, catching 
 the battery before we left camp by only two minutes to spare. 
 
 We lined up on Pier No. 5 and as the Embarkation Officer called 
 each name for loading on the lighters, each member of ten batteries 
 responded more eagerly than his predecessor, all but Lampley. He, 
 in his quaint slothful way, sauntered carelessly up to the booth an- 
 swering "Frederick M.," as if it never mattered whether he got on 
 board or not. At 3 P. M. we were aboard the Agamemnon, assigned 
 to our bunks and began waiting for chow. We stood in line four 
 and a half hours, hungry, tired and wet through and through from 
 our hike to the dock. It was nearly 9 P. M, when the last of our 
 men received their mess consisting of two hot dogs, a piece of bread 
 and a cup of tea. 
 
 Gradually the system of feeding the 5.687 army passengers on 
 board from one kitchen was bettered, and by the middle of our voyage 
 things weren't so bad. We were ordered to wear at all times our life 
 jackets and mess kits. 
 
 For the first time we appreciated the song "Homeward Bound" by 
 our regimental band, as the "Aggie' started off at 12.40 P. M. 
 
 The entire voyage was exceptionally delightful. At all times the 
 sea was calm and the weather perfect. Tuesday night, the 22d, a 
 show and dance was given on board for the officers and nurses, but 
 1st and 2d lieutenants were not permitted to attend. 
 
 The different regimental shows performed for the benefit of the 
 enlisted men and officers and beginning Wednesday we had ice cream 
 for several days on sale at the canteen. 
 
 Thursday brought a medical and bug inspection on deck. 
 
 The next day Lusian, Hair, Williams and seven others were 
 stretched out on "A" deck carelessly talking about what they wouldn't 
 do with a dollar if they had it. The first mentioned won unanimously 
 by suggesting the purchase of 20 packages of Cracker- Jack, two pack- 
 ages to be given each member of the party. But the crowd was bank- 
 
 47 
 
rupt. Suddenly an envelope flopped down in the center of the gather- 
 ing. There was a mad scramble and upon opening the envelope it 
 was found to contain a half dollar and two quarters. One of the 
 ninety-nine Red Cross nurses who were on board had unsuspectingly 
 been the audience to their wish for a dollar. Her stateroom window 
 was just above their heads and in two minutes the boys were smilingly 
 offering their benefactress to join them in munching twenty packages 
 of Cracker-Jack. 
 
 Captains Derby and Mitchell took a nightly constitutional around 
 the deck of the boat, fighting the war all over again as they walked 
 along with rapid gait. 
 
 Most of us spent all day Monday trying to sew our newly issued 
 double service stripes on blouse and O. C. before we landed. 
 
 Land was sighted about 8.30 A. M. The view of New York Har- 
 bor, with the "Welcome" boats steaming up the bay to meet the 
 Agamemnon and the Statue of Liberty in the distance, brought tears 
 of joy to men who never before had felt the pangs of separation from 
 home and dear ones. The crowded ferries and tugs came alongside 
 with banners proclaiming the names of the returning boys whose 
 families were bent on getting the first glimpse of his tanned, smiling 
 face. Jimmie Houlihan's family beat the Mayor's Welcome Boat to 
 it by having a special tug of their own, and for nearly half an hour 
 they held conversation with Jim, till the Agamemnon put on speed and 
 raced into dock leaving the puffing little tug hopelessly plowing 
 through the water far in the rear. We docked at Pier No. 2, Hoboken, 
 and landed on U. S. soil at 10.30 A. M. We were formed in batteries 
 near the railroad yards while our relatives and friends sought to 
 evade the vigilance of the M. P. guards and tried to break through 
 the lines to greet the boys. The guards were incapable of handling 
 the vast crowd. After a short furious stampede the mob burst through 
 the gate in the wire fence and surged around the delighted soldiers. 
 Many a mother, sister and sweetheart slipped through and grabbed a 
 sun-browned soldier in a happy squeeze of welcome. It was the first 
 time this had occurred at the debarkation point. In twenty minutes 
 order was restored and the breathless, elusive civilians were once more 
 barred behind the high wire fence to throw the boys oranges and cig- 
 arettes. Eddie Lynch's father, eager to see his boy, resorted to a 
 happy ruse that worked. His hat pulled down far over his head and 
 broom in hand, pretending to be one of the railroad yard workers, he 
 walked along the tracks brushing and sweeping. He quietly inquired 
 of the soldiers in rank where Battery F was. The unsuspecting 
 guards let him pass, and Ed and his pop met in a wild catch-as-catch- 
 can match before the presence of the outsider was discovered. We 
 took the ferry to Long Island and the trains to Camp Mills, where we 
 were quickly lodged in tents and fed. Visitors swamped the camp all 
 this day and the next, and many a fellow took a flyer and beat it to 
 New York City for the night. 
 
 Thursday, May 1st, we were up at 4 A. M. to be deloused and re- 
 equipped. All city boys received their 48-hour passes good from noon 
 today until noon Saturday, and it was "Home, Sweet Home" for us 
 by the quickest route. Quite a few of the boys overstayed their passes 
 and did not show up by 7 P. M. Sunday night, when we had to sign 
 the pay-roll sheets, discharge papers, insurance blanks and other 
 
 48 
 
things. An order was received that all men not having reported by 
 that time to sign their papers would be transferred to the Depot Bri- 
 gade — and twelve men in our outfit were out of luck, not being dis- 
 charged until a week after the battery had been mustered out. 
 
 Monday, May 5th, we were roused at 5 A. M., made our packs and 
 boarded the electric train at 8.15. Reached New York and marched to 
 the 9th Coast Artillery Armory on 14th Street. We left our packs and 
 equipment and were dismissed until tomorrow, the day of the 77th 
 Division parade. 
 
 We assembled 7.30 A. M. Tuesday at the armory carrying our light 
 "haversack" packs and helmets and formed near Washington Arch. 
 Paraded up Fifth Avenue in great style and with break-neck speed 
 past the great tiers of grandstands filled to overflowing with friends 
 and loved ones. At 110th Street we passed in review before General 
 Alexander and continued on to 125th Street, taking the subway down 
 to the armory, where we were dismissed for the day. 
 
 The next morning we were down to the armory again at 7.30 and 
 hiked to 34th Street. At 1 P. M. arrived in Camp Upton — the same 
 Camp Upton that we had spent seven months in training before going 
 across. These barracks certainly looked good to us. We felt at home 
 in them and settled into our iron bunks comfortably. 
 
 Among the souvenirs Captain Derby brought back with him from 
 France was a German automatic pistol. While in New York he ex- 
 hibited his trophies to his wife. In demonstrating the action of the 
 revolver, the weapon unexpectedly went off. A tragedy was nar- 
 rowly averted, as Captain Derby was holding the gun muzzle down. 
 The shot fortunately missed Mrs, Derby and striking the floor bored 
 its way through for more than a foot into the heavy apartment flooring. 
 
 Thursday, May 8th, we turned in such of our equipment that was 
 no longer needed. Then we were marched down to the Y. M. C. A. 
 at 8th Street for a series of lectures on re-enlistment, compensation, 
 etc. Corporals Jackson and Quinn and Dick Spenser, the "Office Force 
 Trio," worked till long after midnight getting our service records into 
 completion for the coming discharge. 
 
 Friday, the 9th, we were aroused at 2.15 A. M. and walked to 8th 
 Street for our physical examination in the middle of the night. Got 
 back to our bunks about 4.30 A. M. and slept till 7 A. M. At 9.30 
 we were down again to the "Y" hut for a lecture on insurance and 
 prophylaxis. Turned in our blankets and all other Government prop- 
 erty we are not allowed to keep. We slept at night in our overcoats 
 on the iron bimks as we had no blankets. 
 
 Up at 4 A. M. Saturday, May 10th. Breakfast served at 4.30 and 
 we cleaned up our barracks. Turned in our mess kits and hiked down 
 to the paymaster's office in a pouring rain. We waited three hours in 
 the incessant cold drizzle before our turn came to receive our final pay 
 with the $60.00 bonus. 
 
 It was a happy, singing bunch that walked through the mud and 
 water down to the railroad station, with dripping wet faces and clothes. 
 Captain Derby stood at the gate entrance to the cars, and, as each man 
 of his old loved battery received his honorable discharge and passed 
 through the gate, the captain grasped his hand in a farewell grip of 
 good luck and goodfellowship — and Battery F, 305, ceased to be — in 
 the annals of American History. But in the minds of every member 
 
 49 
 
we are still, and will remain forever, the same outfit, the same happy 
 comrades, with our bonds of friendship strengthening with the years. 
 On Tuesday night. May 13th, the 305th F. A. Regimental Associa- 
 tion held a dance and entertainment at the 9th C. A. Armory. It was 
 our farewell night. Mr. and Mrs. Derby were there, Lieutenants 
 Nissley and Taylor, and almost all of the boys. Some of us were al- 
 ready in civilian clothes and before the party broke up the battery pre- 
 sented Captain Derby with a silver smoking service as a token of the 
 eternal esteem and love we hold for him. 
 
 [To be continued in the next war] 
 
 50 
 
APPENDIX A. 
 
 P. C, 77th Division, 3 October, 1918. 
 
 General Order No. 29. 
 
 1. The following is published for the information of all concerned. The 
 Divison Commander desires that this communication be brought to the attention 
 of every member of the command at the earliest practicable moment: 
 "729/G3. 
 
 Advanced Headquarters First Army Corps, 
 
 October 2, 1918. 
 From Commanding General, 1st Army Corps, U. S. 
 To : Commanding General, 77th Division, U. S. 
 Subject: Commendation. 
 
 1. The Corps Commander has directed me to extend to you and to the 
 entire 77th Division a most cordial expression of his gratification at the steady, 
 solid progress made since the beginning of the operation now under way. 
 
 2. The difficulties of terrain are fully understood and the amount of ground 
 gained is noteable, while your supplies and communications are thoroughly sat- 
 isfactory. 
 
 3. Individual cases of special merit should be brought promptly to the at- 
 tention of these headquarters for suitable recognition without waiting for a 
 complete list after the operations are completed. 
 
 By Command of Major General Liggett. 
 
 Maun Craig, Chief of Staff. 
 
 By Command of Major General Alexander. 
 
 J. R. R. Hannay, Chief of Staff. 
 
 51 
 
Headquarters 305 F. A., 
 American Ex. Forces, 
 3rd Oct, 1918. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 Regtl. P. C. (ne aux Charmes, 58.18) 
 
 General Orders No. 39: 
 
 1. The Regtl. C. O. desires the command to be fully informed that on two 
 occasions in the last few days the effective and prompt artillery support rendered 
 by this regiment has been a matter of most favorable report by Infantry Offi- 
 cers, and has made possible the infantry advance, on such occasions, with but 
 small loss, while inflicting heavy losses on the Germans. On the second occa- 
 sion the mission was over difficult terrain from an artillery standpoint; it had 
 been impossible to see where our shots were falling; no circumstances permitted 
 even any rough registration; yet our very first shots fell squarely in a barbed 
 wire entanglement that marked our initial barrage that did such material dam- 
 age to same; rolled on and caught the Germans in their trench system, com- 
 pelling some surrenders, and putting two machine gun nests out of action. The 
 range on both occasions was about 3?4 tniles, and very little time had been given 
 the officers to figure the data. 
 
 2. The officers and men are equally congratulated, and entitled to compli- 
 mentary notice for their accurate and prompt work. The accurate computation 
 of the officers would have been useless, unless backd up by the magnificent gun 
 discipline displayed by the gun crews. 
 
 3. The above will be read to the command. 
 
 F. C. Doyle, Colonel 305 F. A. 
 
 52 
 
ROSTER 
 
 Anderson, Carl, Eaton, Colo. 
 
 Anderson, Nils E, 211 West 107th St., New York City. 
 
 Anderson, Otto, Wanki, Minn. 
 
 Anderson, Victor E., R. F. D. No. 2, Monticello, Minn. 
 
 Autrey, Alxie E., Coppell, Texas. 
 
 Backman, John M., 208 Lexington Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Barale, Vincent, 989 Enterprise St., McKeesport, Pa. 
 
 Barbatsuly, George, P., 312 West 27th St., New York Ctiy. 
 
 Bartalini, Omero. 
 
 Bartleson, Jesse, 1313 Washington Boulevard, Chicago, 111, 
 
 Benjamin, William, 243 Marcy Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Beszpoisnick, Leibe, 713 North Main St., Charles City, la. 
 
 Birmingham, Robert. 
 
 Blome, Albert R., 311 East 70th St., New York City. 
 
 Boernsen, John August, R. F. D. No. 1, Hartley, la. 
 
 Bohannan, John A., Wheller, 111. 
 
 Boyle, Richard. 
 
 Brady, George, 581 East 136th St., New York City. 
 
 Brewer, Earl, Orland, Cal. 
 
 Brody, Max, 1455 Washington Ave., New York City. 
 
 Brouillette, Harry J., 310 River St., North Adams, Mass. 
 
 Brown, Charles E., 461 West 155th St., New York City. 
 
 Brunk, Jacob G., 179th St. and Webster Ave., New York City. 
 
 Burden, Chester G. 
 
 Cairns, Hugh, 198 Colyer St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Carlisle, Willis, Livingston, Texas. 
 
 Carroll, Daniel E., 31 Manhattan St., New York City. 
 
 Carson, John W., Deposit, N. Y. 
 
 Cederburg, Gust. 
 
 Christofferson, Christoffer, Lengly, la. 
 
 Clark, Daniel. 
 
 Clark, Harry, 1425 Geary St., Harrisburg, Pa. 
 
 Clugston, Robert, 139 West 47th St., New York City. 
 
 Collins, John. 
 
 Connors, Frank J., 162 Lebanon Ave., Pittsfield, Mass. 
 
 Cooperstein, Abraham, 352 East 119th St., New York City. 
 
 Cordes, Ernest H., Henning, Minn. 
 
 Crane, Garnett, 6217 East 14th St., Kansas City, Mo. 
 
 Cushman, John, 20 North "A" St., Irvington, N. Y. 
 
 Davis, Miles E., 19 Pleasant St., Wellsville, N. Y. 
 
 DeBert, Frank, 714 West Grant Ave., Chicago, 111. 
 
 Derby, James Lloyd, 48 East 61st St., New York City. 
 
 Dooley, John J., 212 East 70th St., New York City. 
 
 Doyle, James. 
 
 Duckworth, William J., 214 West 16th St., New York City. 
 
 Duellmann, Robert, 345 South 4th St., Hamilton, Ohio. 
 
 Duffy, John J., 590 East 138th St., New York City. 
 
 Dupree, Bernard E., 107 Warburton Ave., Yonkers, N. Y. 
 
 Easson, Chester. 
 
 Ecock, James, 4th St., Sheepshead Bay, N. Y. 
 
 Eidson, James, Enterprise, Ala. 
 
 Elkin, Gabe F., Easton, Wash. 
 
 Ervin, Roy F., Lawton, Okla. 
 
 Ellis, James, Paris, Ky. 
 
 Erickson, Severt, Sioux Falls, S. D. 
 
 Farina, Gaetano, 169 East 23d St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Finch, Charles H., Halcyon Park, New Rochelle, N. Y. 
 
 Fomund, Lawrence, 770 Jackson Ave., New York City. 
 
 Foray, John M., 15 West 67th St., New York City. 
 
 Francis, John Logan, Box No. 82, Tuttle, Okla. 
 
 Frasher, Earl J., 412 East 160th St.. New York City. 
 
 Freed, Oscar A., 1606 11th Ave., S. E., St. Cloud, Minn. 
 
 Freshour, Alfred E., Corning, la. 
 
 53 
 
Fried, Philip, 109 Belmont Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Fuglestad, Thorwald, Cooperstown, N. D. 
 
 Gallagher, Peter, 2332 Andrews Ave., New York City. 
 
 Galliford, Samuel, 215 West Main St., Batavia, N. Y. 
 
 Garbarino, Andrew H., R. F. D. No. 1, Huntington, N. Y. 
 
 Garry, William A., 421 West 141st St., New York City. 
 
 George, Raymond, Livermore, Cal. 
 
 Glode, Arthur, 49 Emmett St., Marlboro, Mass. 
 
 Goodwin, Walter, 919 East 232d St., New York City. 
 
 Gormley, Martin A., 524 West 159th St., New York City. 
 
 Gottlieb, Morris, 8-10 West 117th St., New York City. 
 
 Graves, William A., 124th and Yocust Sts., Valley Junction, Iowa. 
 
 Greenlee, Gordon B., 543 Prospect Ave., Newark, N. J. 
 
 Gross, Emanuel, 1027 East 167th St., New York City. 
 
 Gusa, Eddie, R. F. D. No. 1, Plainview, Minn. 
 
 Hagan, Peter, 1267 S. Buckwell St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 Hage, Frank J., 1216 Thrall Ave., Woodhaven, L. I. 
 
 Hair, Edwin Andrew, Brownell, Kan. 
 
 Haller, Albert, 208 Fifth Ave., Virginia, Minn. 
 
 Hanley, James W., jr., Wachusett St., Holden, Mass. 
 
 Hanlnn, Edison, 22 Orlando St., Sprirgfield, Mass. 
 
 Hanney, Frank, 108 S. California Ave., Chicago, 111. 
 
 Ilatncld. Earl. 
 
 Hauk, Arthur J., 5511 Hirsch St., Chicago, 111. 
 
 Hecker, Arthur J., Sumatra, Mont. 
 
 Helgeson, Gilbert, Roslyn, N. Y. 
 
 Henderson, William B., 126 Fulton St., Youngstown, Ohio. 
 
 Hennessey, Joseph, 837 Main St., Springfield, Mass. 
 
 Henricksen, Hans C, Charter Oak, Iowa. 
 
 Hensley, Arthur. 
 
 Herman, Albert Samuel, 453 West South St., Akron, Ohio. 
 
 Hernbon, John F., R. F. D. No. 2, Pecan Gap, Texas. 
 
 Herrmann, August, 2442 Myrtle Ave., Evergreen, N. Y. 
 
 Hertz, Joseph, 984 Simpson St., New York City. 
 
 Hilbold, Carl, Lima, Ohio. 
 
 Hill, Albert B., 164 Harrison St., Qarksburg, W. Va. 
 
 Hock, William, 383 Berrman St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Hoerber, John H., 310 Maryland St., Buffalo, N. Y. 
 
 Hogan, Arthur, 3222 Washington Ave. N., Minneapolis. 
 
 Holmer, William S., 2920 Bryant Ave., N. Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 Hopkins, John J., 101 Rodgers Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Horton, George R., 2187 7th Ave., New York City. 
 
 Houlihan, James A., 2867 Bainbridge Ave., New York City. 
 
 Hovey, Myron, 305 West 97th St., New York City. 
 
 Howard, Patrick, 99 Fort Washington Ave., New York City. 
 
 Hundt, WilHam H., 330 East 139th St., New York City. 
 
 Hurst, Edward James, 1408 Pleasant St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 
 
 Huscher, Robert W., Lincoln Ave. and Baltic St., Jamaica, N. Y. 
 
 Ives, Ray, New Underwood, S. D. 
 
 Jackson, Douglas N., 345 Fifth Ave., New York City. 
 
 Jacobson, Benjamin, 966 St. Nicholas Ave., New York City. 
 
 Johnson, Arthur J., Swea City, Iowa. 
 
 Johnson, George W., Lester Prairie, Minn. 
 
 Kadlec, Frank, 355 East 74th St., New York City. 
 
 Kaplan, Samuel, 331 East 56th St., New York City. 
 
 Kaufmann, Samuel. 
 
 Kehoe, William, 330 East 34th St., New York City. 
 
 Kehr, Albert W., 410 East 155th St., New York City. 
 
 Kiernan, Patrick J., Box 41, East Northport, L. I. 
 
 Kingston, Cyrus C. 1414 Massachusetts Ave., North Adams, Mass. 
 
 Kingston, George R., Brasher Falls, N. Y. 
 
 Kruchell, Fred G., 7403 S. Sangamon St., Chicago, 111. 
 
 McClenaghan, Andrew. 
 
 McCormack, Joseph, 2084 Anthony Ave., New York City. 
 
 McDaniel, Hubert, Gidson, Mo. 
 
 McDermott, James. 
 
 McElheny, Leo H., Rushford, N. Y. 
 
 54 
 
McHenry, George R., 1010 McGovern St., Little Rock, Ark. 
 
 McHugh, Leo Joseph, 496 Linwood St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 McKenna, Bartholomew P., 320 East 140th St., New York City. 
 
 McLaughlin, James P., 423 Wrights Court, Scranton, Pa. 
 
 McNevin, Alfred C. B., 924 President St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Labrecque, Alfredo Romeo, 49 Roseland St., Springfield, Mass. 
 
 LaBrode, Henry C, 22 Lincoln St., Pittsfield, Mass. 
 
 LaManna, John, 3312 Georgia Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. 
 
 Lampley, Frederick M., Hickman, Cal. 
 
 Larkin, Eugene L., 2 Marble Hill Ave., New York City. 
 
 LaRue, William H., 409 Eldert St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Lashansky, Hugo, 168 East 90th St., New York City. 
 
 Lasher, Mordecai J., 98 Second Ave., New York City. 
 
 Liebler, George, Jr., 246 West 230th St., New York City. 
 
 Lingren, Samuel, Tuduck, Iowa. 
 
 Lomberg, Benny, 1212 Washburn Ave., Chicago, 111. 
 
 Lusian, Isador W., 407 Roberts St., Crookston, Minn. 
 
 Luther, Loren Robert, Minden Mines, Mo. 
 
 Lynch, Edward A., 2454 DeVoe Terrace, New York City. 
 
 Macken, Michael F., 148 First St., Pittsfield, Mass. 
 
 Maclis, Juan, Phoenix, Ariz. 
 
 Malotista, Adolph, 475 Pearl St., New York City. 
 
 Mandelblatt, Nathan, 874 Longwood Ave., New York City. 
 
 Manwarren, Will O., Bigelow, Minn. 
 
 Marshak, William, 907 East 173d St., New York City. 
 
 Martin, Propof, 9 Canal St., New York City. 
 
 Masterson, Andrew J., 631 First Ave., New York City. 
 
 Meagher, William H., 2671 Bainbridge Ave., New York City. 
 
 Michels, John. 
 
 Miller, Kenneth L., R. F. D. No. 1, Nashua, N. H. 
 
 Miller, Edward W., 5 Corinth Ave., Elmhurst, L. I. 
 
 Millon, Noel, Delmonico Hotel, 44th St. and Fifth Ave., New York City. 
 
 Minkler, James, 31 Powell Ave., Newport, R. I. 
 
 Musgrave, Arthur. 
 
 Nagleschmidt, William. 
 
 Nelson, Harry, Sibley, Mich. 
 
 Neptune, Harold B., Colabar, Mont. 
 
 Neuwerth, Charles, 381 East 153d St., New York City. 
 
 Nielsen, Niels Peter, 362 43d St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Nikolai, Steve, 308 Tillamook St., Portland, Ore. 
 
 Nilson, John. 
 
 Nissley, Warren W., 382 Fulton Ave.. Hempstead, L, I. 
 
 Nugent, Joseph, 2660 8th Ave., New York City. 
 
 Obregon, Jose. 
 
 O'Connor, Arthur W., 622 West Belden Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Parlee, Arthur, Rockford, III. 
 
 Patterson, Cody F., Kimball, Neb. 
 
 Payne, John H., 274 Poultenay St., Geneva, N. Y. 
 
 Peasley, Arthur M., Arson, Iowa. 
 
 Peters Frsncis B 
 
 Pohlm'ann, Robert W., 269 Carmelia St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Quinn, John A., 2043 North 11th St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 Ranck, Roy, 2827 East 64th St., Kansas City, Mo. 
 
 Rarrick, Joseph W., 91-2 Moosac St., Adams, Mass. 
 
 Riley, William. 
 
 Roberson, Arch, R. F. D. No. 1, Lyles, Tenn. 
 
 Rodgers. Jerome R., 443 East 165th St., New York City. 
 
 Rolke, William. 
 
 Roache, Thomas F., 1362 Bergen St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Romito, Francesco, 78 Skillman St., Brooklyn, N._ Y. 
 
 Rosenzweig, Max, 707 Cauldwell Ave., New York City. 
 
 Roshovsky, Meyer, 1381 Washington Ave., New York City. 
 
 Russell, James, 208 Blatchley Ave., New Haven, Conn. 
 
 Russell, Linwood L., Mechanic Falls, Maine. 
 
 Salatino, Antonio, 33 Circular Ave.. Pittsfield, Mass. 
 
 Sammler, Charles, 414 East 138th St., New York City. 
 
 Sarver, Grover C, Wexford, Pa. 
 
 55 
 
Sarzen, Frederick R., Westfield, Mass. 
 
 Schaeffer, Carl H., 2114 Caton Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Schroeder, William, Box No. 35, Mercer, Wis. 
 
 Schultz, Philip, 403 Goethe St., Buffalo, N. Y. 
 
 Schwichtenberg, Henry C, 148 West 27th St., Bayonne, N. J. 
 
 Searle, Howard. 
 
 Shay, Daniel, College Hill, Ohio. 
 
 Shepard, John R, 42 Guilds Place, Pittsfield, Mass. 
 
 Shepherd, Thornton. 
 
 Skillman, Irving S., 414 Convent Ave., New York City. 
 
 Smith, Albert Field, 31 Van Dam St., New York City. 
 
 Spaulding, Harry. 
 
 Spencer, Richard A., 2231 Valentine Ave., New York City. 
 
 Spenzola, Angelo, 15 Bay 14th St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Spiegel, Marvin, 909 West End Ave., New York City. 
 
 Stanfield, John A., Tulare, Cal. 
 
 Stanton Ivan Lee, Enosburg Falls, Vt. 
 
 Starkie Henry M., 392 Webster Ave., New Rochelle, N. Y. 
 
 Steis, Edmond G. 
 
 Stengren, Bernard, 136 Dikeman St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Strong, Louis P., Jr., 12 Balsam St., Saranac Lake, N. Y. 
 
 Sullwold, Friedrich, R. F. D. No. 1, Stillwater, Minn. 
 
 Swada, Walter, Blooming Prairie, Minn. 
 
 Tagliaferri, Joseph. 
 
 Talty, Peter J. 234 East 33d St., New York City. 
 
 Tarulo, Michele, 677 Morris Ave., New York City. 
 
 Taylor, Reuben T., Frankfort, Ky. 
 
 Teator, Foster, Tivoli, N. Y. 
 
 Thomas, Leonard L., Olin, Iowa. 
 
 Tingle, John K., Connorsville, Ind. 
 
 Tung, Gee, 715 7th Ave., New York City. 
 
 Urso, Tony, 347 East 24th St., New York City. 
 
 Vallandingham, Oscar, Ward, Ark. 
 
 Van Riper, Charles, Holly, Mich. • 
 
 Vaughan, John J., 217 East 47th St., New York City. 
 
 Verdin, Grady. 
 
 Waldbillig, Edward, Drummond, Mont. 
 
 Wallace, Fred L., 30 Church St., New York City. 
 
 Walsh, Thomas P., Ill St. Ann's Ave., New York City. 
 
 Ware, Roger, Phoenix, Ariz. 
 
 Warmers, Robert. 
 
 Watkins, Harry. 
 
 Wells, Charles R., 517 North Alastic St., Haddfield, N. J. 
 
 Wells, William A., R. F. D. No. 3, Fillmore, N. Y. 
 
 Whitman, Francis. 
 
 Williams, Daniel F., 68 Ranney St., Springfield, Mass. 
 
 Wittenberg, Samuel, 186 Covert St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Wright, George, Severance, N. Y. 
 
 Wubbe, William, 7505 17th Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Younger, Edwin. 
 
 Zeliff, Shirlev, Almond, N. Y. 
 
 Mitchell, C.'Von E. 
 
 56 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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