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ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
From "The Friends in Need" 
 
 We girls feel that we know the American soldiers 
 thoroughly, for we served with the Regular Army, 
 the National Guard, and the National Army, and we 
 served with them while they rested and played and 
 while they fought and died. 
 
 Always they were true Americans, playing with 
 zest and fighting with determination and invincible 
 courage. 
 
 There is not a tribute too high to pay them and we 
 feel that we were very privileged to have been with 
 them at the front, from their first activity in the lines 
 until the last gun was fired. 
 
 Very cordially yours, 
 
 Irene McIntyre. 
 Gladys E. McIntyre. 
 
ECHOES 
 FROM OVER THERE 
 
 BY THE MEN OF THE ARMY AND 
 
 MARINE CORPS WHO FOUGHT 
 
 IN FRANCE 
 
 Edited by CRAIG HAMILTON 
 and LOUISE CORBIN, Authors 
 of "The Sword of the Valley," 
 "The Heart of a Regular," etc. 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 Published by 
 
 The Soldiers' Publishing Company 
 
 New York City 
 
$ 
 
 
 D 
 
 . 
 
 Copyright, 1919, by 
 
 The Soldiers' Publishing Company 
 
 All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign 
 
 languages, including the Scandinavian. 
 
 ©CU51 5 
 
 Dancey-Davis Press 
 New York 
 
 JUN 1 7 uid 
 
TO 
 
 THE MIGHTY FINE CHAPS 
 
 WE LEFT OVER THERE 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Ask a doughboy or an officer about "over there" 
 these days, and nine times out of ten his answer will 
 be, "Oh, what's the use of talking about it? Folks are 
 tired of hearing about the war." 
 
 The boys, lately returned, are eager to tell us of 
 what they have seen and endured. Is it possible there 
 is no audience for the moving stories of our young 
 heroes? 
 
 We believe that people, through the return, or non- 
 return, of some loved one, are now so familiar with 
 the reality of the Great War that they have little inter- 
 est in war fiction. The day of the war play with its 
 battle raging offstage, and the novel with its villain 
 regenerated on the field, is past. 
 
 Instead, we long to look into the eyes of our young 
 fighters and hear from their own lips, authentic details 
 of what happened overseas. 
 
 Will you yawn and think of other matters when 
 your boy stretches his legs before your fireplace once 
 more and begins, "Well, Dad, it was this way. We 
 went over the top at — " 
 
 Or, if your boy paid the supreme price and lies with 
 lips forever sealed, would you not listen hungrily to 
 the story told by a member of his own company, by his 
 Buddy, perhaps? 
 
 Possibly, you had no one dear to you to send across. 
 You must still be eager to learn all you can of that 
 strange world of death, and struggle, and unimagin- 
 able bravery into which our untried youth advanced, 
 and from which they have emerged, laurel crowned, 
 our great, national pride. 
 
 We offer you in this volume, not the skillful work 
 of fiction writers, but veritable human documents. The 
 boys themselves wrote these stories, or dictated them 
 from their hospital beds. 
 
 You will find adjectives and elaborate descriptive 
 writing conspicuously lacking. But if you have imag- 
 
ination, what inspiring drama you will find between 
 the lines of these abrupt, little narratives! 
 
 And if you lack imagination, these tales must still 
 be eloquent, for they are abrim with the personalities 
 of the boys, so only a heart is necessary to understand 
 and love them. 
 
 The Editors. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 Page 
 
 McIntyre Girls' Letter 
 
 iii 
 
 Preface 
 
 1 
 
 Part I. 
 
 The First to Fight 
 
 The Stories of the Marines 
 
 Private T. S. Allen 9 
 
 Lieutenant J. A. Brady 19 
 
 Soldier's Letter 25 
 
 Sergeant Samuel P. Capwell 27 
 
 Soldier's Letter 33 
 
 Corporal Meyer J. Lapine 35 
 
 Private Winslow Belton Marshall 40 
 
 Private Frank M. Jacobs 45 
 
 Private Wayne W. French 54 
 
 Private Frank J. Vanderhoven 63 
 
 Soldier's Letter 67 
 
 Corporal Paul Bonner 69 
 
 Soldier's Letter 72 
 
 Part II. 
 The Old Army and the New 
 
 Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 75 
 
 Private Hyman Zucker 83 
 
 Sergeant Ray Smith 85 
 
 Private Charles C. Weise 90 
 
 Letter from Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt 95 
 
 Private Roy Miller 97 
 
 Sergeant Spiras Thomas 99 
 
Page 
 
 Private Irving Abrahams 103 
 
 Private Charles A. Pettit 107 
 
 Private Albert Marks Ill 
 
 Sergeant Joseph Morini 115 
 
 American Official Communique No. 133. ... 119 
 
 Corporal John H. Bennet 121 
 
 Appendix I. 
 
 "Passed by the Censor" 123 
 
 Part III. 
 
 The National Army and Other Troops 
 
 Captain George U. Harvey 137 
 
 Private Joseph Rigler 153 
 
 Private Joseph Sisenwein 157 
 
 Private George Hart 169 
 
 Lieutenant Sidney Schoenfeld 177 
 
 Prviate Louis Weinberg 180 
 
 Private Larry Wolff 182 
 
 Sergeant Max Wicker 189 
 
 Corporal Alan Streat 193 
 
 Sergeant Sidney Ettinger 197 
 
 Citation — Sergeant W. Maloney 199 
 
 Sergeant Victor Vigorito (Johnny Victor) 200 
 
 Sergeant Michael Donaldson 233 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 
 Gladys and Irene McIntyre Frontispiece 
 
 Private T. S. Allen 7 
 
 Sergeant Samuel Capwell 26 
 
 Corporal Meyer Lapine 34 
 
 Private Frank Vanderhoven 62 
 
 Corporal Paul Bonner 68 
 
 Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 74 
 
 Private Hyman Zucker 82 
 
 Private Roy Miller 97 
 
 Private Irving Abrahams 102 
 
 Private Albert Marks 110 
 
 Sergeant Joseph Morini 114 
 
 Corporal John Bennet 120 
 
 Captain George Harvey 136 
 
 Private Joseph Rigler 152 
 
 Private Joseph Sisenwein 156 
 
 Private George Hart 168 
 
 Sergeant Max Wicker 188 
 
 Sergeant Michael Donaldson 232 
 

 
 PARTI 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
PRIVATE T. S. ALLEN 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Private T. S. Allen 
 
 Born in Clear Lake, South Dakota, December 21, 1896. 
 Enlisted in United States Marine Corps May 2, 1917. 
 Wounded and gassed in Belleau Wood May 8, 1918, still in 
 Pclham Bay Hospital. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 When I emerged from, kilts or whatever it was I 
 wore as a kid, and acquired my first sling shot, I began 
 to hanker for a fight. While the sun was high in the 
 heavens, I would venture forth from the house in 
 search of "redskins" and the bold bad men whose ex- 
 ploits we still heard much of in the west of my child- 
 hood. As the shadows lengthened, the house always 
 looked good to me while my mother's arms and my 
 father's towering bulk offered a most welcome retreat 
 from the hostile hordes my youthful imagination had 
 conjured up. 
 
 In time, I became the proud possessor of a gun and 
 my father taught me to use and respect it. 
 
 As was natural, my reading ran to the deeds of the 
 men of the last frontier; then along came my school 
 histories with their stories of Lexington and Bunker 
 Hill, Valley Forge, Lundy's Lane, Chapultepec. 
 These seemed to me like those stories which begin, 
 "There were giants in those days." Still, they gave a 
 heroic background in my mind for the closer events of 
 the Civil War, and the brief but glorious episodes of 
 the War with Spain, in reading of which I was first 
 introduced to the Marines. 
 
 This may seem going a long ways back, but, I take 
 it, that in telling my story I am telling the story of 
 the thousands of mighty fine lads we left "over there," 
 for in these fragments of my youthful activities and 
 
10 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 mental processes I believe is the key to the miracle 
 we wrought in France. 
 
 As the years ran on, I did not plan to be a merchant, 
 or a lawyer, or farmer, but kept to my books, my hunt- 
 ing and fishing and my dreams of soldiering, — of "the 
 day of glory." 
 
 How angry I used to get at the pacifists who wanted 
 to abolish war, for I counted myself, even then, as 
 among the "red blooded" that Teddy was always ap- 
 pealing to. And how ill I thought Fate had used me, 
 in that I had been born too late for even the "Relief 
 of Pekin." 
 
 I was, of course, ashamed of my military dreams, 
 and after the fashion of youth, carried them hid in 
 my heart where they fed hungrily. 
 
 The War in Europe, however, found me, at first, 
 strangely unresponsive. Of course, I was interested 
 and read everything about it that I could get hold of, 
 but it did not seem real to me. I just could not believe 
 somehow, that armies were once more arrayed for 
 battle. 
 
 But the ferment was at work. As the war ran on, 
 month after month, I became, first of all, a partisan. 
 It was the Canadians who "got" me. 
 
 They came from our side of the water. Many of 
 them were Americans, so the papers said. Well, if the 
 Americans were fighting, I was with them, no matter 
 what uniform they wore. 
 
 There were many German sympathizers in our neck 
 of the woods, and I had all the fighting I wanted every 
 day at school. 
 
 Nothing like fighting for a thing to make a man 
 value it. 
 
 I began to turn over in my mind the project of run- 
 ning away to join the Canadians, but something held 
 me back. 
 
 Then America entered the War. My long dreamed 
 of day had come. 
 
 On May 2, 1917, at Maryland, California, I enlisted 
 in the Marines. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 11 
 
 The first to fight ! It seemed to me that I belonged 
 among the first. 
 
 One may ask, "Why the Marines?" 
 
 Well, as I have said, I had read a great deal of our 
 history and I had seen a few soldiers and an occasional 
 Marine. • The soldiers looked like husky chaps, but 
 there was something about the Marines you could 
 not forget. 
 
 Alert, clean, always minding their own business, 
 getting all that was their due quietly but firmly, they 
 left a deep impression on me of being men who were 
 able to look out for themselves in' any situation. 
 
 I may seem a "stuck up" boy to have elected myself 
 to that illustrious company. But I tell you I felt that 
 I "belonged." 
 
 For fourteen weeks, they put me through the marine 
 course of training at the Maryland Camp and I'm 
 frank to admit that there were many bitter moments 
 when I wondered if I had not paid myself too much 
 of a compliment in picking out the Marines. 
 
 There were many things about them, too, which sur- 
 prised me. Though the occasional Marines I had seen 
 had been young men, still my idea of a Marine had 
 been a grizzled old fighting man, who was a cross be- 
 tween John L. Sullivan and a bull fighter. My com- 
 panions in camp were youths like myself, even the 
 sergeants and most of the lieutenants were but little 
 older than myself. 
 
 One thing helped me with the outfit. I qualified on 
 the range as a sharpshooter and the drill-sergeants did 
 the rest. 
 
 I was a Marine and I was not. 
 
 I belonged and I did not. So matters stood ; when 
 they shipped us to Quantico, Virginia. 
 
 On the way, we had a train wreck. Some of the 
 bunch were killed and many were hurt. Life and the 
 service gained something of reality from that expe- 
 rience. But when we reached Quantico, and as a 
 member of the 78th Company, I also became one of 
 the 6th Regiment of the United States Marine Corps, 
 
12 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 I really first came into my heritage of "belonging" to 
 the Marines. 
 
 Colonel A. W. Catlin, now Brigadier-General Catlin, 
 was our commanding officer and he sure could put jazz 
 into a lot of men, gathered from all over the country, 
 and make them feel that a regiment of Marines was 
 the greatest thing they ever had been or ever would be 
 associated with. 
 
 Drill, drill, inspection, and still more drill. Then 
 along about the middle of January, 1918, we slipped 
 aboard a transport one night and sailed for France, 
 arriving at St. Nazaire on February 3rd. 
 
 France did not look anything like I thought it 
 would. I had expected to see everything smart and 
 sort of all aressed up. But here it was old fashioned. 
 French soldiers going about in uniforms of bright 
 colors. Red trousers and gold braid. The lighthouses 
 and cottages painted all colors, pink, yellow and blue; 
 and the people as quaint as the town. 
 
 "Some one has been telling it to the Marines," said 
 my comrade oi the moment, "this place ain't France. I 
 know better. I seen too many movies of Paris down in 
 Newport, Tennessee, where I come from." 
 
 He found those to agree and disagree with him. 
 A heated argument started which the bugler stopped 
 as he barked us an order. 
 
 The people were kind to us, though somewhat shy. 
 They struck me as being disappointed in a way, as 
 though we were not up to sample. I didn't get it at 
 the time, but I made up my mind later that they were 
 looking for something about seven feet tall with whis- 
 kers, like the bearded lady in the circus. 
 
 A three-day trip in tiny box cars brought us to Robe- 
 court, a town near Nancy, where we began some more 
 training and learned about cooties, and trenches, rats, 
 French weather, and mud. 
 
 By the middle of March, we were on the line, having 
 taken over some old French trenches near Verdun. 
 It was a quiet sector, a so-called training sector. 
 
 We had patrol work, and "stood to," and went 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 13 
 
 through all the rest of it. While there were a few 
 of the fellows killed, it seemed unreal, as it had in 
 the newspapers at the beginning of the war. Frankly, 
 we were bored and little interested, and could not un- 
 derstand why it had been necessary to bring us over 
 to finish the job. 
 
 Then it got to be June, and they moved us up to a 
 place you have read about called Belleau Wood. I'd 
 say that position held our attention all right. It sure 
 did measure up to everything one had ever heard of. 
 or imagined about this war or any other. 
 
 The country was broken. There were wheat fields 
 tucked in among patches of brush and tall trees. An 
 occasional village half seen, half hidden among trees 
 and foliage. Ravines, little knolls and hills and, just 
 where we entrenched, a great rough stretch of forest, 
 rolling up and spreading out to either side. 
 
 Our line ran along the crest of ground rising above 
 a small ravine. There were a few rods of open ground 
 and then the woods. Belleau Wood. 
 
 The world was filled with confusion, noise and ex- 
 citement. The French troops we came in touch with, 
 had been having a hard time of it, around that neigh- 
 borhood, and some had been shot up elsewhere and 
 brought there for rest. A fine place to rest I'd say 
 it was. 
 
 My company dug its fox holes along the line of the 
 ravine. The Huns left us pretty much alone while 
 we were at it; I guess because a drove of French 
 "seventy-fives" somewhere back of us were worrying 
 them about up to capacity. 
 
 Being marines, we knew that if the French guns 
 were putting in shell as fast as they were, something 
 was due to come along. 
 
 Sure enough ! The German guns began to tune up. 
 A deepening roar came from the hills beyond the 
 woods, while out from the concealed machine gun po- 
 sitions in the woods, a well-directed machine gun fire 
 whipped our position. 
 
 We were being punished without being able to reply, 
 
14 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 for the woods hid the enemy from us. The French 
 ''seventy-fives" seemed to sense our uneasiness, for they 
 increased the volume of their fire in a great wave. 
 
 "Here they come !" a shrill boyish voice piped up. 
 
 "Hold your fire!" the injunction ran from officer 
 to officer and man to man. 
 
 The German barrage lifted ; the French guns almost 
 ceased firing. The men about me were cursing and 
 swearing in that choice collection of profanity that be- 
 longs to the Marines. It took me back swiftly, on 
 the wings of memory, to a lonely walk in the woods I 
 had taken, as a boy, when I had whistled to keep up 
 my courage. 
 
 The German troops were clear of the woods. On 
 they came with closed ranks in four lines. One looked 
 at them with almost a friendly interest. No particular 
 hate or fear. And yet there was a queer sensation 
 along the spine, and the scalp seemed to itch from 
 the tug of the hair at the roots. The fingers bit into 1 
 the rifle. 
 
 "Hold your fire !" 
 
 As the command rang on my ears with a sharpness 
 that enforced obedience, I seemed to be standing on 
 Bunker Hill and hear the command : "Wait till you see 
 the whites of their eyes !" 
 
 I think I know how those old Yanks felt that day, 
 as the enemy drew nearer and nearer. 
 
 The next I recall is firing. Firing. Firing. My 
 fingers were tearing greedily at more ammunition, 
 then the instinct of the hunter restrained me. I began 
 to fire slower, looking for my mark, making sure of a 
 hit. The Huns now appeared to me almost on top of 
 us and then, all of a sudden, there was nothing more 
 to aim at. A few scattered groups with hands held 
 up, racing for our lines and shouting "Kamerad! 
 Kamerad !" 
 
 We had ceased firing, but still these terror stricken 
 men withered away. It was their own machine gun- 
 ners behind them, in the woods, deliberately shooting 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 15 
 
 their own men who had failed to carry home an im- 
 possible charge. 
 
 I felt suddenly sick. From that moment, I hated the 
 Hun and treated him without mercy. 
 
 The German guns opened on us again and the 
 French replied. Another period of torment began; 
 a period when many gallant lads "went west" or, badly 
 wounded, were sent to the rear after dark. 
 
 Our position was the most advanced of the whole 
 line. 
 
 The Hun wanted us out of there, but there we stayed 
 until relieved and the fighting had swept to other parts 
 of the line. 
 
 A little later, I mean of course a few days later, the 
 defensive game was over. We had the ball, and the 
 line we had to put it across was Bouresches. The 96th 
 company of Marines was on our right, if my memory 
 is correct, and under cover of our advance and the ex- 
 cellent work of the guns, a handful of them reached 
 the town. The fields they had crossed were brown 
 with the bodies of our boys, who had not sought to take 
 cover but had driven straight ahead at their object in 
 the face of continuous bursts of well-directed machine 
 gun fire. 
 
 Oh, the Huns bled us that day ! But the blood was 
 not shed in vain, for the whole German line, clear 
 to the English channel, creaked from the blow struck 
 by a handful of American Marines, most of whom 
 were under twenty-one. 
 
 Well, as I started to say, a handful of the 96th got 
 into town and hung on by the skin of their teeth while 
 fighting hand to hand with picked German shock 
 troops. They managed to get a runner back asking for 
 help, and I'd say every man in the division (the Sec- 
 ond) wanted to go to their help. 
 
 They got about a platoon together finally, from po- 
 sitions where a man or two could be spared, and they 
 went through to help the 96th. We held Bouresches 
 when that fight was over. 
 
 Once more the war had measured up to expectations. 
 
16 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Our dead were numbered by the thousands, and 
 we had been tested, almost to the limit. There had 
 been no time for thinking, little to notice what was 
 going on. 
 
 One simply fought by instinct and, being a Marine, 
 fought in the right way. Did the correct thing. Ma- 
 rines are born, not made by enlisting in the corps. 
 Enlisting in the corps simply develops the Marine 
 or uncovers a yellow streak and the man is dropped. 
 All the drill in the world would not teach men the 
 things that I saw boys like Paul Bonner of New York 
 do. Paul, who used to be a jewelry salesman before 
 the war, and joined the Marines because he, too, 
 thought that he belonged ! Paul who always kept his 
 smile and his head, and who threw his life away a 
 dozen times in a day and lived to come home ! 
 
 I can't go on and carry you through the fight for 
 Belleau Wood. It needs a book itself, but as this is 
 my story, I'll jump ahead a little to where I was hit. 
 
 Our lines were advancing by sheer pluck. I think 
 it was in the afternoon of June 13th, that my company 
 took up a position in a heavily wooded valley. When 
 I say heavily wooded, I mean a place where the 
 thickets of underbrush grew between the trees higher 
 than a tall man's head, and paths and roads were few 
 and far between, while the heavy foliage of early 
 spring overhead, shut out the light of day until it 
 was always twilight among the trees, and at night so 
 dark a man could not see his hand before his face. No 
 use trying to wear a gas mask, for you could not see 
 with it on, and twigs and branches were always tear- 
 ing it out of position. 
 
 The German planes had been watching us all day, 
 and they knew where we were all right. 
 
 It was a desperate hole for troops to be in, and we 
 were deployed of necessity to cover the front, as well 
 as for protection from the shell fire we knew was 
 coming. 
 
 The late afternoon and evening passed quietly. We 
 slipped some men back to a well from which the Ger- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 17 
 
 man dead had been taken but a few hours before. 
 The water was foul with taint, but at least it was 
 water. Chow was due along about midnight, and in 
 spite of the wickedness of our situation we began to 
 cheer up. In the morning, it was our job to clean out 
 the last of Belleau Wood in our front. 
 
 Almost on the hour of midnight, when the chow was 
 being distributed, the Hun opened up everything in 
 that part of the country on the valley, which had, of 
 course, been accurately registered. 
 
 H. E., shrapnel, whizz bangs, and mustard gas shell 
 rained on us. 
 
 There was no standing such fire. It meant annihila- 
 tion for the whole unit and perhaps a hole in our line. 
 There was but one thing to do, and that was to get 
 out before the gas had done its work. 
 
 We began to feel our way out of the trap. The 
 darkness of the place was made darker still by the 
 flashes of the exploding shell ; the mustard gas was 
 getting in its devilish work, while perfectly helpless 
 before the wrath of the Hun, we stumbled blindly and 
 in agony toward the rear. 
 
 The human senses reeled into oblivion before such 
 an attack. Men lived by the spirit that is in them, 
 "carrying on," though it was to the rear, with a thought 
 for the honor of the regiment and for the need of the 
 boy next who had fallen. 
 
 We came out of that place finally — some of us. 
 
 And we came out as an organized military command. 
 We had our weapons with us and our wounded. 
 Driven back, decimated, in agony, but still conscious 
 that we were Marines of the 6th Regiment, whose 
 dead had fallen without a chance for a blow. 
 
 Every survivor in the company went to the hospital, 
 except the two cooks who were not there. 
 
 It was in that engagement, that I was hit and gassed. 
 
 I do not recall being hit, though I had a shrapnel 
 bullet through my leg. 
 
 Now, I have written for you of the boyhood hours 
 when in my mind, as well as in the minds of my fel- 
 
18 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 lows, the mental thews were being formed. And I 
 have told you as briefly as I know how, perhaps too 
 briefly, of the hours when those thews were tested. 
 I hope it will be a little plainer just how it was we 
 went over so blithely, and bore ourselves so well. 
 
 It was September, before I was back with my regi- 
 ment to go with it through to the signing of the armis- 
 tice. The gas and the wound, however, still bothered 
 me so I went to the hospital again and have just re- 
 turned to the United States. At the time of writing 
 this, on May 8th, I am still in Pelham Bay hospital. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THER E J9 
 
 II. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Lieutenant Joseph A. Brady 
 
 Reporter for New York Evening World. Commissioned a 
 Lieutenant and assigned second battalion, Fifth Regiment of 
 United States Marine Corps. Fought at Belleau Wood and 
 in the Soissons offensive. 
 
 His Own Story of the First Day of the Offensive 
 
 Suppose you were a soldier and for four months a 
 strong and hideous enemy had been heaving steadily 
 into the columns of your army great quantities of gas, 
 flame, shells and bullets and had been ceaselessly forc- 
 ing you back; and you, sometimes starving and thirsty, 
 had been fighting him back, and then suppose on a 
 clear summer morning the earth had opened and 
 drawn your enemy into a literal vortex of hellfire, what 
 would you do? Would you first go into a wild de- 
 lirium of joy and then fall down in the fields in a deep, 
 contented sleep? That is just what most of us did 
 who had been fighting for four months when the great 
 offensive of the Allied Armies overwhelmed the Ger- 
 man Army south of Soissons on July 18 last. 
 
 When we stepped from the auto trucks in which we 
 had been riding for thirty hours, on the afternoon of 
 July 17, on the edge of the Villers-Cotterets Forest, we 
 did not know that we were going into battle, but we 
 did know that we were tired and hungry. We looked 
 for food and there was none. We looked for water, 
 but it was poisonous, and guards with bayonets kept 
 it from us. The only food was grass, and we could eat 
 that without water. There were thousands of us there, 
 but each man only thought or realized that he alone 
 was there. 
 
 We wearily plodded through the deep roads of the 
 forest, but we did not know where we were going. 
 
20 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Then we noticed cavalry, thousands of horses, standing 
 quietly in the woods. And tanks, standing silent and 
 appearing not at all like the great demons we had been 
 told they were. Guns were everywhere, large, medium 
 and small. Two hundred thousand men were there, 
 and on that quiet summer day beyond the confines of 
 the forest you would not know there was a soul there. 
 Enemy aeroplanes above hummed and the aviators 
 peered in vain through the thick foliage of the mighty 
 trees. 
 
 Night came, and with it rain and lightning, and 
 thunder, and action. The tanks, the great guns and the 
 ammunition wagons rumbled out on the roads. The sol- 
 diers staggered along up to their knees in mud in the 
 ditches alongside the roads; now and then they 
 cried out as a horse slipped and a wagon filled with 
 heavy shells fell and crushed some of them. For forty- 
 eight hours some had been without sleep. The officers 
 fought every step of the way to keep alert for what 
 was to come, and they prayed to God the Germans 
 would not find out what was going on, for knowledge 
 to the Germans then would have meant certain de- 
 struction to a great allied army. 
 
 Somewhere along the fifth mile, we were stopped 
 and a call for officers went out. We, the officers of the 
 5th Regiment, United States Marines, assembled in a 
 little clearing and met Col. Logan Pheland. He told 
 us briefly we were going to attack and attack big — - 
 along a thirty-mile front. We had the post of honor, 
 he said, along with the 1st American Division, and 
 French Zouaves were to be on our left. My battalion, 
 the 2d, was to be in the first wave ; X day and Z hour 
 were the time for the attack. We laughed, for we 
 knew it meant in plain language early the next 
 morning. 
 
 I was battalion scout officer and Major Ralph S. 
 Kayser gave me the maps and told me to mark off* the 
 objectives and directions. In the pouring rain, and 
 with the help of my smothered flashlight, I marked the 
 maps and handed them out to the company command- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 21 
 
 ers. I saw that Capt. Wass was there, Lieut. Elliott 
 Cooke, Lieut. Becker, Lieut. Zyschke and myself. We 
 were all that were left out of the nine officers that 
 started in the mess of the 18th Company at Verdun in 
 March. The next night Wass and Becker were dead, 
 and Cooke, Zyschke and I were headed for the hos- 
 pital. Two days before, Zyschke and I had matched to 
 see who would be the next officer to go to the States 
 as an instructor and Zyschke had won ; he was to leave 
 after the attack. 
 
 Col. Pheland called to me and asked me to go ahead 
 of the regiment with him to find the guides who were 
 to take us to the jumping-ofT place. We plunged 
 ahead, dodging horses, tanks and artillery. It was 
 pitch dark, the only light coming from an occasional 
 flash of lightning. On we went to the Paris road 
 where the guides were to be. 'No one was there. We 
 awakened sleepy French artillery officers, but they told 
 us they had just arrived and could not help us. We 
 stood in the woods waiting for the battalions with no 
 definite idea of where to go, and in an hour and a half, 
 at 4:30 A.M., we were to attack. 
 
 Right there came deep if unspoken curses; no 
 guides, no time, no food, little ammunition and pre- 
 cious little information, except that in an hour and 
 a half two thousand guns would open a barrage which 
 we were to follow, and a hundred thousand German 
 shell would fail to stop us before we were within a 
 mile of where we were to attack. The battalions came 
 up and we plodded on. When we stopped figuring 
 how we were going to pull out, we prayed. 
 
 Daylight came suddenly. It revealed artillery of- 
 ficers standing just within the forest borders with 
 watches in their hands. It revealed twenty minutes 
 to make the attacking point, and it showed a thousand 
 yards away a small arms ammunition dump. The 
 men rushed to the dump. I saw a dozen French sol- 
 diers hurrying away. They had been relieved from 
 the trenches. I ran after them. One of them spoke 
 English. He had lived in New York. 
 
22 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 "Guides," I shouted. "Guides, soldiers to take us 
 in. We are late. Hurry ; hurry." 
 
 The Frenchman, who spoke English, hurriedly ex- 
 plained to the others, and these dozen poilus, who were 
 on their way out to safety, water and food, turned and 
 volunteered to lead us in. They knew it meant death. 
 It did, indeed, to some of them, and they went back 
 to take it, all for La Patrie and because the Americans 
 asked them. 
 
 The men were grabbing ammunition, bullets and 
 grenades and as fast as they finished, I was putting 
 them in charge of a poilu to lead them in. The last 
 man cleared. Down the road we went, running, for 
 the artillery officers would be calling off the seconds 
 now. Then it came. I heard a quiet human voice. I 
 suppose it said fire. Perhaps many voices said it. In 
 a second came the blast of two thousand guns. The 
 concussion almost threw us over but we went on, catch- 
 ing our breaths and hardly knowing for a minute what 
 it was. 
 
 There was no noise, that is, no distinct noise, there 
 was just a terrible heaving and tearing. I say the im- 
 pression was that there was no noise, because men next 
 to you were shouting and you could not hear them. It 
 was so noisy you could not hear anything, but some- 
 thing that prevented hearing. You could see, however, 
 and ahead we saw soaring lights, the signal lights of 
 the Germans calling for their barrage. 
 
 The first German shell hit in the hard road ahead 
 of us. We saw it. We did not hear it. It cut away 
 the first eight men of our column. Into the ditches at 
 the side of the road we tumbled and the German 
 barrage hit on the road. We had been caught before 
 we got in ! 
 
 A minute we lay there under the pounding md then 
 in the forest to the right and left, we saw huge trees 
 going up by the roots and French soldiers with ropes 
 about them hauling them down. Trees a hundred feet 
 tall were falling. The French had mined under the 
 roots and were blowing them up to make new roads 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 23 
 
 for the tanks. Then the monsters came plunging 
 through. It was our chance ! While the German 
 barrage was falling on the main roads, the French were 
 going through the forest and that was where we 
 headed with the soaring signal lights of the German 
 line as our objective. 
 
 The rain had stopped and the sun was out. We 
 reached the edge of the black woods and rushed out 
 into a wheat field. The green and golden fields 
 stretched away for five miles and ahead we went. 
 Overhead a hundred aeroplanes were moving; not 
 circling as they seem to be when they are high, but 
 rushing and tearing a few hundred feet above us. And 
 ahead in the fields German batteries with gun noses 
 pointed a few inches above the wheat were flashing 
 out. 
 
 But greater than all, not many yards away, were 
 groups of Germans running low toward us with their 
 hands up, abject terror in their faces. Our barrage 
 was going on now and through the spurting fountains 
 of earth which it was sending up, we could see hun- 
 dreds of Germans running before it and we could see 
 scores of tanks plunging into them, spitting machine 
 gun and shell fire at them. Now and then, one of our 
 own would go down but Germans were going by the 
 score. Suddenly fast armored motor cars swept up 
 the side roads firing into the German machine gunners 
 in the gulleys as they went. 
 
 The men were wild as they tore on. No fatigue 
 now, just Boche lust. Over the old German trenches 
 they ran stopping only for the occasional obstinate 
 Boche who kept firing until they got him. We struck 
 the first objective, an old farm house, and we dove 
 into the cellars. That first line of boys kept going on. 
 It could not be stopped at the first objective. 
 
 In the cool cellar of the first farm house I stopped 
 with Major Kayser, and the Battalion Adjutant, Lieut. 
 LeGendre. It was the objective and we had to ^et the 
 men together to go on further. A few dead Germans 
 were above the cellar but inside was a queer scene. 
 
24 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 The candles were still lighted on the table and the 
 breakfast of the German Captain was still there. We 
 ate some of the black bread, sipped some of the Rhine 
 wine, searched for maps and information and hurried 
 out to go further. 
 
 Miles out, tanks and armored motor cars were still 
 smashing into the German line, aeroplanes were fight- 
 ing a dozen battles overhead, artillery was rushing up, 
 stopping a few minutes at a time to fire. Everywhere 
 our men were lying about in the fields. Dead? No. 
 Just asleep. 
 
 "Hell, they're licked," grouched the first one awak- 
 ened by a Sergeant, "and I don't see why I've got to 
 run 'em to death." 
 
 The story of how the gallant kids who had stopped 
 the Boche for four months, and who went crazy with 
 joy when they started him to Berlin, then laid down 
 under the shell fire and slept for an hour, is one story. 
 But how they roused themselves from their sleep and 
 started after him and kept going after him for three 
 days is another. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 25 
 
 Soldier's Letter 
 
 "I saw the Germans who were on outpost duty 
 dash back into the woods to give the warning that the 
 Americans were coming. A command ripped along 
 the column and we deployed into skirmish formation 
 on the run, broke into our battle yell, and charged the 
 woods on the very heels of the enemy's outpost. 
 
 'The Huns did not have a chance to fire a shot be- 
 fore we were among them. They were good troops 
 and stayed to fight it out. I have been in some fights 
 before this, but this was the bloodiest work of the war, 
 so far for me. 
 
 "A Hun struck at me with his bayonet. I could not 
 defend myself with my' gun at the moment as a branch 
 was in the way. I parried the thrust with my left arm, 
 let go my gun, ducked, the way Young Fulton taught 
 us in camp, and uppercut the fellow hard. He fell 
 back stunned. With the knife I had in my leggings, I 
 finished him neatly, recovered my gun, and went on. 
 
 "It takes time to tell it, but it happened faster than 
 you could think. Uncle Sam sure did something for 
 us boys when he had us taught to use our 'dukes.' I 
 don't know whether Fulton is over here or not, but 
 if he is still in America, I wish you would send him 
 my letter, for I want him to know he saved one boy's 
 life." 
 
SERGEANT S. P. CAPWELL 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 27 
 
 III. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Sergeant Samuel P. Capwell 
 
 Born in the State of Pennsylvania. Enlisted in United 
 States Marine Corps in Detroit, Michigan, on September 9, 
 19.17. Trained Paris Island and Quantico, Va. Sent to 
 France August, 1918. Severely wounded in the Argonne of- 
 fensive, losing his fight arm and receiving other injuries. 
 
 I did not see so very much of the war and it seems 
 to me to be somewhat presumptuous to insert in the 
 records of our fighting boys, the short and simple story 
 of my experience in action. 
 
 However, what I did see of the War was all war. 
 It was lively while it lasted, and the memories of those 
 few weeks will serve me for a life time. 
 
 Enlisting in Detroit, Michigan, on September 9, 
 1917, in the United States Marine Corps, I was sent 
 to the splendid camp the Marines had organized at 
 Paris Island, S. C. There I was thoroughly trained, 
 and when the officers judged me fit for foreign service, 
 I was transferred to the overseas training camp at 
 Quantico, Virginia. 
 
 Some bird of a training camp, I'd say that was. 
 Colonel A. W. Catlin, who had organized it, had done 
 a boss job, and the training followed the general lines 
 of Marine training with modifications and additions 
 made necessary by conditions in France. 
 
 We learned to shoot straight, think quick, and act 
 even quicker, to do the right thing under the circum- 
 stances of any given case, and do it through instinct. 
 
 We had bayonet exercise that sometimes got pretty 
 realistic. 
 
 "Snarl when you use the bayonet !" was the advice 
 some English instructors gave us, but it did not fit in 
 with the Marine idea, which was to do it with a smile. 
 And strange, and almost unholy and unnatural as it 
 
28 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 may seem, months later, when I did see some of the 
 Marines in a hand-to-hand fight with the Huns, they 
 were not snarling but smiling as they jabbed the points 
 of their bayonets into the most convenient part of their 
 opponent's anatomy. A queer sound the bayonet 
 makes when it takes the flesh, and queerer still is the 
 feel of the gun in your hand when you have the old 
 "shiv" in a human body. 
 
 "Mopping up" was another delightful practice in 
 which we became singularly adept. It means, as you 
 doubtless know, cleaning up the positions you have 
 taken from the enemy. It is a bloody business in 
 which, you might say, no prisoners are taken. 
 
 The bayonet fighting, the patrol work, and the mop- 
 ping up, even more than a gas attack, or shelling, or 
 rifle fire, bring out to me the sheer hellishness of war. 
 
 There is something impersonal about most of the 
 operations of a military character, but when you come 
 to grips; when you tear a man's body open with the 
 bayonet, cut his throat with a trench knife, or strangle 
 him to death with your hands down in the mud of 
 "no man's land," or the filth of a trench bottom, it 
 comes right home to you. 
 
 And I am frank to say, I don't like it, though it had 
 to be done, and God knows nothing that could be done 
 to a German began to be anywhere near like the treat- 
 ment he deserved. 
 
 But I ramble, and that is not like a Marine. 
 
 In August, I crossed to France and was landed at 
 Brest after a beautiful and uneventful trip. The Navy 
 certainly made good when it came to taking us boys 
 across safely, and I never see water but I want to give 
 three cheers for the "Gobs." 
 
 After landing in France, we went to Chatillon where 
 we got our legs under us, looked over our equipment, 
 and then hurried up to the front. 
 
 Every Yank in France that had any fight left in 
 him was headed for the front at that time. We had 
 the Jerries on the run and the spirit of the hunt was 
 in us all. We could scarcely sleep of nights for fear 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 29 
 
 they would stop fighting before we had our chance 
 at it. 
 
 Well, we got it ! 
 
 In the Argonne forest sector, we went into the 
 line to relieve some National Army troops that had 
 fought themselves out of food, clothing, ammunition, 
 and almost out of touch with the supporting troops on 
 their flank. The N. A. boys needed a few hours to 
 rest, refit and receive replacements, for they had not 
 counted the cost of their advance. 
 
 The dead were still unburied, and as we marched up 
 to their front, we passed for miles over the ground 
 across which they had advanced. Time and time again, 
 I saw the ground brown with their bodies as they had 
 fallen in lines, or in clumps, before the fire of German 
 machine gun nests. 
 
 Their orders had been to advance at no matter what 
 cost, and they had kept the faith. 
 
 So, we came at last into line. 
 
 The woods were heavy about us. The ground was 
 incredibly broken, as though some angry god in ancient 
 times had harrowed the place with hate. Ravines ran 
 in all directions, and this brought out a twisted rock 
 formation where ridges crossed and recrossed each 
 other, and buttes rose without rhyme or reason in the 
 most unexpected places. 
 
 It was, of course, an ideal defensive position. I 
 can't see all the Germans in the world driving Ma- 
 rines out of such a stronghold. Yet out of it our 
 American boys had been chasing German veteran and 
 war-wise soldiery. 
 
 Machine gun nests and organized positions were 
 scattered broadcast through the forest with the prodi- 
 gal hand of the German High Command. In places, 
 barb wire was in position and there were also well 
 placed and carefully constructed trenches. 
 
 Our guns had difficulty in keeping up with us. Only 
 when a command would be definitely hung up for a 
 day or so, would the guns get a chance to come up 
 and blow the Jerries out. 
 
30 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 The orders were to advance to a certain objective 
 which had been pointed out to us. We were told to 
 go ahead and take it, if only two of us got there, and 
 when we got there to dig in and hang on regardless. 
 
 Some comprehensive order I'd say it was. 
 
 We drove forward, bombing out the machine gun 
 nests, taking advantage of what cover offered, cutting 
 and blasting our way through the enemy's wire. 
 
 As we broke through the last of the wire, the Huns 
 abandoned their position and fled to cover. It so hap- 
 pened I was nearest the crest of the ridge where the 
 German line had been, and I tore up the slope at my 
 best speed, gun thrown forward eagerly as I tried to 
 get another good clean shot at the Jerries. 
 
 The German guns were well trained on the crest, and 
 just as we swarmed over it, H. E. shell and shrapnel 
 began to burst right among us. 
 
 Suddenly I spun around and fell. For a moment or 
 two I was dazed. My Buddie grabbed me and dragged 
 me into a little cover, and ripped off my blouse and 
 shirt. My right arm was filled with shrapnel and 
 shot to pieces from the elbow down. Buddie gave 
 me first aid, put my canteen handy, and then with a 
 handclasp hurried back to the position where the men 
 had stopped for a moment to get their breath, after 
 the burst of shelling. 
 
 Presently, as the shelling grew less, and the enemy 
 showed himself forming for a counter attack, our 
 men sprung forward, cheering as they ran in that 
 high pitched, eerie battle cry of the Marines who have 
 seen their dead. 
 
 They had overrun a machine gun nest, and when I 
 saw the gunners in the nest open up on our men from 
 the rear, it brought the life back to me. I began to 
 try and get my gun into some kind of a position where 
 I could shoot, and while I can shoot from the left 
 shoulder, it's some trick to hold and fire a gun with 
 one hand and hit anything. 
 
 However, I did create a diversion with my thump- 
 ing around, for the German machine gunners gave me 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 31 
 
 their attention. I got a bullet through the left hand, 
 and another in the leg. 
 
 The Jerries certainly were great ones for getting a 
 man in the leg. 
 
 I talked to a Jerry, who was a prisoner and spoke 
 English, about it. 
 
 "We don't like to kill the troops opposing us," said 
 he, as he tugged away at his long stemmed pipe. 
 
 "Oh, no, of course," I agreed. "Quite so." 
 
 He caught my sarcasm and went into details. 
 
 "Why should we kill men?" he inquired. "If a man 
 is dead, he is dead. That is the end of him. Maybe 
 he gets planted, and maybe he don't. If he does, its 
 after the fight is over. 
 
 "But a wounded man must be taken care of. He 
 uses up men who could be fighting. The more 
 wounded the better. So they teach us to shoot at the 
 feet instead of the head or body." 
 
 At any rate, there I was. With my right arm full of 
 shrapnel and my forearm, from the elbow down, a 
 sight. My left hand also, had a bullet through it and 
 I had another one in my leg. I had lost a lot of blood. 
 It was fifty hours before I had any more attention than 
 my Buddie had been able to give me in the heat of the 
 fight. Then I received real first aid and was shipped 
 back something like sixty miles to a hospital, where I 
 underwent three operations, in the last of which they 
 took my right arm off at the elbow. 
 
 After that they sent me Home, and in the Brooklyn 
 Naval Hospital I had a re-amputation. 
 
 Also I received a regimental citation, though just 
 why I do not understand. 
 
 I want to say a word for the relief organizations that 
 helped us out "over. there." This is one of the Echoes 
 I want you to be sure and hear. 
 
 Listen ! There is nothing too good for the Salvation 
 Army ! 
 
 The time was when we used to give them our pen- 
 nies. Let me tell you, your dollars aren't half big 
 enough for them. They were like the Marines, they 
 
32 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 went the limit. Right up to the front, the real front, 
 the firing line, with coffee and doughnuts. Many a 
 time we had to beg those girls to go back. 
 
 If you feel grateful to us, be good to them, for they 
 were with us and were our friends when we walked 
 in the dark shadows "over there." 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 33 
 
 Soldier s Letter 
 CHRISTMAS DAY IN FRANCE 
 
 But say, let me tell you something. Christmas Day 
 in France was enough to break your heart. 
 
 The day before Christmas we had marched out to 
 our training field as usual. To keep us from thinking 
 too much about home, the officers put us through. It 
 was twelve miles back to billets and we started the long 
 hike. We could not help thinking a bit now and then, 
 so our spirits were low. 
 
 Rain and sleet fell; the roads were hock deep in 
 cold sticky mud, for each step we took, we lost part 
 of the ground gained. 
 
 We were chilled, tired, hungry, footsore, homesick, 
 and all at once, that's some grand little combination 
 for Christmas Eve, I'll tell you. 
 
 As the night came on, wind blew in long, sharp blasts 
 that cut through to the bone, chilling the perspiration 
 the hike had started. 
 
 You could have bought us cheap. 
 
 We hit the billets late, too doggone tired and heart 
 sick, we thought, to eat. But hot coffee and chow 
 lured us at last. Then we just peeled off our rags, 
 and packs, and boots, dropped them all over the place, 
 and hit the blankets. 
 
 At dawn, some idiot began to shout, "Merry 
 Christmas." 
 
 "Merry Hell," we answered and tried for a few 
 more winks. 
 
 But it was no use, the comedian persisted. We 
 reached for what was nearest. A box barrage of tin 
 hats, boots, canteens, and miscellaneous equipment 
 silenced the fool. 
 
 Then another broke out with it. 
 
 We decided we'd better end the epidemic right 
 there. 
 
 So we played "puss in the corner" with that fellow. 
 
 We hit him a wallop in the puss (face) and he laid 
 in the corner for an hour. 
 
CORPORAL M. J. LAPINE 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 35 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Corporal Meyer J. Lapine 
 
 Born in Chicago, III., January 7 , 1892. Occupation, chauf- 
 feur. Enlisted in United States Marine Cor$s at Chicago on 
 May 29, 1917. Trained Paris Island and Quantico, Virginia. 
 Assigned Sixth Regiment. Overseas January 15, 1918. 
 Wounded three times and gassed. 
 
 On May 29, 1917, I enlisted in the United States 
 Marine Corps at Chicago, and was sent to Paris Island, 
 South Carolina, for quarantine and preliminary train- 
 ing- 
 
 For three months, I was drilled and trained at Paris 
 Island until they had made a man of me physically and 
 mentally. I had, in the meantime, taken my second 
 oath, so when I was passed on to Quantico, the over- 
 seas camp, I was about ready for foreign service. 
 However, they took a few more licks at me at Quan- 
 tico, and then assigned me to the famous Sixth Regi- 
 ment, United States Marine Corps. 
 
 Major Holcomb took us over the latter part of Janu- 
 ary, this battalion completed the regimental organiza- 
 tion of the Sixth. 
 
 Many of the Marines who had preceded us, had 
 spent the months in France on police duty, but we were 
 more fortunate, for in January, all the Marines were 
 relieved from police duty, brigaded together, and sent 
 to Bourmont training area to be whipped into shape 
 for our place in the line. 
 
 For the first time, we had a chance to get ac- 
 quainted with each other and look over our officers, 
 and a fine bunch of men I'd say they were. Catlin 
 was our Colonel, and I saw him fall, right up with the 
 boys at Belleau Wood. 
 
 Lieutenant Colonel Lee was second in command, and 
 
36 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 took over under fire the day Colonel Catlin was 
 wounded. The Majors, too, were all old hands, I 
 think, in the Marines. Major John A. Hughes, Major 
 Burton William Sibley, and the regimental adjutant 
 Major Evans, were men who won our devoted admir- 
 ation by their soldierly qualities and personal man- 
 hood. 
 
 Nor were the lesser officers much below them in 
 standard, though most of them did not really belong 
 to the Corps, but had been sent to it to take the places 
 vacated by the moving up of the old company and 
 platoon commanders when the organization was ex- 
 panded. 
 
 Of things such as this, we men talked in bivouack 
 and billet, gathering our information as to the past 
 history of the Corps and the exploits of its officers 
 from the lips of our "noncoms," many of whom had 
 been in the Marines from ten to twenty years. 
 
 In the days of our training, when we tramped back 
 and forth from billets to training grounds, we of the 
 ranks got to know each other well and we knew just 
 about what to expect of chaps like Chris Collopy, who 
 came from Spring City, Pennsylvania, or Weikal of 
 Middletown, Ohio, before ever we saw them put to the 
 test of battle. 
 
 During March, we went on the line in the Verdun 
 sector. So far as my outfit were concerned, we had 
 our first taste of German shell on Easter morning. 
 Some eggs, believe me, those Jerries put over to make 
 us feel like good Christians on that day. 
 
 We had taken over a quiet sector, but it certainly did 
 yield us some good sport. The patrol work was great. 
 
 Don't misunderstand me. I was scared to death 
 every time I went out on patrol. The cold sweat would 
 pour off me and my whole body would shake with 
 chills, but I'd have died before I'd let any one of my 
 pals know it. I guess we all had the chills, and fever, 
 and sweats together, for we weren't just pigs driven 
 to slaughter and used to it like the Hun, but nervous, 
 high strung young lads, with all of life before us. Yet 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 37 
 
 we'd rather have been in France just then, than any- 
 where else in the world. 
 
 But once you were out in "no man's land," creep- 
 ing around in the dark, trying to keep in touch with 
 the rest of your own men and not fall over a Hun 
 before you saw him, sneaking through the enemy wire 
 to listen up against his parapet, you were sitting in on 
 a man's game where the sky was the limit. 
 
 The oddest things would come into your head. 
 Some thing funny that had happened when you were 
 a boy at school, or some remark made by Hi Pottinger 
 would come to mind, and you'd see it from a new angle 
 and want to laugh, when you didn't hardly dare to 
 breathe. 
 
 And when we did catch an enemy patrol out ! Oh, 
 boy ! How we flattened out on the ground, and prac- 
 ticed every Injun and hunting trick we'd ever heard of, 
 as we stalked the foe. For on patrol work, it's a case 
 of get your man and get him quick and quiet, or 
 they'll have the sky full of star shell, and both sides 
 be cutting loose at you 
 
 We sure were in tune with the warring infinite, 
 when they relieved us at last, I guess because we were 
 making their quiet sector too lively. 
 
 I understand some of the other boys have written 
 in their stories for "Echoes from Over There," of the 
 fighting along the Marne and at Belleau Wood, and I'm 
 going to skip it, for even to this day, it hurts to think 
 of the friends who "went west" during the fighting 
 there. 
 
 After the Chateau-Thierry sector fighting just re- 
 ferred to, the Marines were pulled out of the line for 
 some much needed rest and re-equipment, for fighting 
 uses up clothing, weapons, food, everything goes in the 
 fight. 
 
 La Fere was the name of the place where we counted 
 noses and took stock, but the days of resting were 
 about over. We had turned the tide at Belleau Wood, 
 and it was up to us to push our luck. 
 
 The French were going to try and crash in the side 
 
38 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 of the bottle the German had made in the French lines 
 between two towns every one has heard of, Soissons 
 and Rheims. A bottle just described the situation, 
 an old fashioned water bottle turned upside down. 
 At either side of the bell shaped bottom of the water 
 bottle, were Soissons and Rheims, while the mouth 
 rested on Chateau-Thierry. And the bottle was full, 
 full to the brim with German troops, guns, stores, 
 I don't guess they have counted it all yet. 
 
 The French wanted to smash in the side of the bottle 
 and get at the contents, and they gave the Marines the 
 hammer. To make sure that we would be feeling like 
 fighting when we struck the German lines, they packed 
 us into camions, and we bumped along in the dust and 
 July heat all one night, arid at dawn started to hike and 
 kept it up all that day and all the following night. At 
 dawn we came into position and the fight began. 
 
 There will be some who will think I exaggerate, 
 who will say no troops could fight as we fought after 
 being awake for two days and nights and making such 
 a march, but if such doubters there be, let them write 
 the War Department and ask about this incident of 
 the history of the Sixth Marines in France. 
 
 It was a great surprise that attack. The Hun was 
 completely fooled when, on the heels of a terrific bar- 
 rage, and in the wake of droves of tanks, the Marines 
 broke out of the forest of Villers-Cotterets. 
 
 We had no sooner started, than we forgot all about 
 being tired, for we had the Hun on the jump. We 
 piled his dead in heaps ; we took his machine guns by 
 the hundreds, and his field batteries complete, time and 
 again. We just had to take prisoners that day ; it 
 would have taken too long to kill them all. 
 
 We fought through wilderness thickets ; we stormed 
 hills, and with dripping bayonets, slashed our wav 
 through villages the Hun had not yet destroyed, and 
 was busily engaged in looting. We shot German sol- 
 diers gathering the grain in the fields. 
 
 Mile after mile we drove them, and though we 
 made rapid progress, there was stark fighting done 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 39 
 
 by the Germans that day. Time after time, I saw 
 a squad of our men go at the burst of a shell, or a 
 platoon wither under machine gun blast. 
 
 I got it in the leg myself, bad enough to send me 
 back to a dressing station, but not to a hospital. I had 
 all the hospital I wanted after I had been hit and 
 gassed early in the spring, and when our men were 
 going in at Belleau Wood, we had to take French 
 leave at the hospital to get back to our regiment or 
 we'd have missed that dandy brawl. 
 
 After we had cleaned them up at Soissons, they 
 pulled us out, and we had a few days of the rest that 
 was coming to us, and then we went to the Argonne. 
 There I got phosgene chlorine gas and got it good, and 
 by the time I had recovered from that, it was all over, 
 over there. 
 
40 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 V. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT. 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Private Winslow Belton Marshall 
 
 Enlisted in United States Marine Corps. Served in France. 
 
 Patriotism, to some people, meant throwing out their 
 chests when the band played the "Star Spangled Ban- 
 ner," and openly admitting that "the land of the free 
 and the home of the brave" could lick anybody on the 
 block. 
 
 To me, it didn't mean so much. I just grabbed a 
 gun and went over there to express my sentiments in 
 bullets. 
 
 Those flag-waving experts may be all right. They 
 probably figured that as it was, the recruiting offices 
 were overworked, so what was the use of giving them 
 more trouble? 
 
 When it comes down to scrapping, believe me, three 
 of those dear three-inch shell have three cheers beat 
 eighty ways. 
 
 Still, somebody had to stay at home, or there 
 wouldn't be anyone to watch the parades, now that 
 we've got back from saving Democracy. 
 
 Well, just after we quit speaking to Germany, I 
 enlisted in the Marines. I spent my nights studying 
 how to tell a third class Ensign from an assistant sten- 
 ographer in the Knights of Columbus, and my days 
 were spent saluting every door man from Forty-second 
 street to Columbus Circle. At first, an ordinary sub- 
 way guard looked like an Admiral to me. 
 
 I suppose you know what a Leatherneck is? A 
 Leatherneck is a baby they send for when some country 
 gets fresh and tries to go Republican. 
 
 We are rushed special delivery to the place to put 
 down the revolution. There never is any trouble. The 
 revolutionists are buried in lots of a thousand each. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 41 
 
 Once a Marine got wounded. He stumbled over the 
 Porto Bananas army on the way back to the ship. 
 
 No doubt by this time, you know how the Leather- 
 necks went through those square heads at Belleau 
 Wood and points west ; and we would have gone 
 through to Berlin, only we didn't want to be all muddy 
 marching down "Unter der Linden" with all the fel- 
 lows looking on. 
 
 The Kaiser likes the Marines like carbolic acid, 
 and the Crown Quince has been yelling for the police 
 ever since we went over. 
 
 I always wondered why they called us Leathernecks. 
 I found out it was on account of us wearing some of 
 the sweaters our loving, but amateur, knitting relatives 
 sent us instead of cigarettes. Some of those sweaters 
 would make any fellow's neck rough. 
 
 Going across, we were prepared for everything from 
 sudden death to losing a button. 
 
 The meals were the best part of the trip. I had six 
 meals a day, three down and three up. The boat 
 rocked so much that I had to sit on the floor when 
 eating. I asked the Doctor what was the cure for sea 
 sickness, and he said, "I give up." 
 
 While still on the ship, I joined the Moustache Club 
 and the Gimme Association. 
 
 We landed in France on my birthday and were sent 
 to a training camp. While on the train, we passed 
 some pretty scenery but that's all we did pass. 
 
 When I enlisted in the Marines, the pictures in my 
 mind were drawn from the colored posters in front 
 of the recruiting offices. I was to see life from the 
 deck of a noble battleship and the heaviest work would 
 be drilling at a five-inch gun, and smashing a target to 
 smithereens across the sea. 
 
 But instead, they put me to work operating an in- 
 sane apology for a railroad, and pushing freight cars 
 all around a town fifty miles from a sniff of salt 
 water. I often wondered what my mother thought 
 when I wrote her about this. "Drunk again," most 
 likely. Well the Navy went us one better. The Cap- 
 
42 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 tain mounted forty blue-jackets on mules and called 
 them his cavalry. 
 
 Under the able and masterly leadership of our mess 
 sergeant, we got food in disguise. The cooks must 
 have attended the Camouflage school unbeknown to 
 us. The occasional biscuits were further proof of this. 
 
 The sick report went merrily in on the wings of the 
 dawn. I guess the cooks thought the medical depart- 
 ment needed practice. 
 
 In a small space in the mess shack, they had worked 
 wonders. They put in an enormous stock of soldier 
 necessities ; everything from carpet tacks to baby ele- 
 phants. You could get cigarettes, cigars, chewing gum, 
 and candy; all the latest magazines, wall paper, fly- 
 paper, ukeleles, bassoons, and kettle drums ; shampoos 
 and massage. Also, ladies' and gents' clothing, art, 
 needle work, and sporting goods ; umbrellas, rubbers, 
 silks and bull dogs. But the main thing, you could get 
 something to eat. The way our mess sergeant dished 
 up the food, he must have been a pal of Mr. Hoover. 
 However, we didn't starve. 
 
 Finally, we took our seventy-two hour dip in the 
 trenches. Now that the war is over, I will never re- 
 main in the military game, largely on account of con- 
 siderations that deter me from becoming an actor, it 
 cuts into your evenings so. However, after you get 
 used to staying up a night or two at a time, snatching 
 a little siesta between times, it certainly is an interest- 
 ing game. 
 
 The first two or three days in the trenches, Jerry 
 was quite amusing, and indulged in a lot of perfectly 
 blind shooting, with 5.9 (five point nines) either to bol- 
 ster up his own courage, or in the vague hope of hitting 
 something. As we were green and unaccustomed to 
 shell fire, we were continually jumping in and out of 
 shell holes, when we first heard the whine coming, 
 and in every case, at least so far as I was concerned, 
 the shell hit many yards away. Soon we became veter- 
 ans and could tell from the sound of the shell, whether 
 to duck or ignore them. It is astonishing how quickly 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 43 
 
 your ear gets trained. Soon there was very little duck- 
 ing. 
 
 We had a lot of healthy curiosity about Jerry's 
 whereabouts and habits, and we sure had a chance 
 to gratify it and put it to use during frequent patrols. 
 
 Before we got through, we saw quite a bit of action. 
 We have hurled bombs that flew back at us so fast that 
 we received the impression we had thrown them back- 
 ward. We have vibrated at the safe end of a rifle, and 
 we have speared Huns on a bayonet run that would 
 have discouraged the Ringling Brothers. 
 
 Of course you've heard about gas. Well, we've been 
 gassed. We, too, had heard all about it. Incidentally, 
 you folks have no idea what the word discomfort 
 means till you try on a gas mask or respirator. A gas 
 mask is the most unholy punishment that can be meted 
 out to anyone. Did you ever try swallowing a hot 
 water bottle ? 
 
 Our Captain told us to stay as long as we could. 
 Talk about speed. You've read of Joe Loomis winning 
 the hundred yards, Dario Resta driving his motor car, 
 and Guynemer, battleplaning through the air. Wrong, 
 all wrong. The pace I hit when I took off my gas 
 mask, would have made Loomis, Resta, and Guynemer, 
 tear their hair in pure chagrin. Nothing like it has 
 been seen since soldiers began wearing hats. With all 
 due modesty, I claim I emerged from that door at a 
 speed of fifty miles an hour. Rough stuff, that gas. 
 
 In peace times, if anyone had told me I would ever 
 be sitting in a damp German dugout, in the wee sma' 
 hours of a chilly morning, playing piquet, while about 
 me raged a terrific bombardment, I would have called 
 him crazy. 
 
 Believe me, we all were sure glad when peace was 
 declared. 
 
 We fished out our little rubber suits and sailed for 
 home. We had a peace party on board ship that the 
 fellows are still talking about. And you know that 
 to get anything to stick in a fellow's bean for more 
 than an hour, is an accomplishment in itself. We had 
 
44 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 some canned music, the old phony was on duty from 
 the start, grinding out ragtime, and everybody jazzed. 
 
 Shades of Napoleon, was ever before a picnic known 
 to thrive on Bevo and make merry over a bumper 
 of root beer? Gee, I never knew we could have such 
 a good time and stay sober. 
 
 Well, there's no place like home. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 45 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Private Frank M. Jacobs 
 
 Born in New York City. Enlisted in the U. S. Marine 
 Corps. Fought at Belleau Wood. Was wounded near Sois- 
 sons. Received the Croix de Guerre. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 We arrived in St. Nazaire, June 27th, and spent two 
 months near the Swiss border. Our training consisted 
 of endless days of long, muddy, dreary hikes, and bayo- 
 net exercise that, though not a pleasure, put us in 
 great condition, enabling us to withstand the hardships 
 of the trenches. 
 
 After leaving the training area, we were sent for 
 preliminary training to the front line trenches of the 
 Verdun sector. Although the enemy was in action in 
 front of us, for a month and a half, nothing of any 
 importance occurred, outside of constant shell fire. It 
 seemed that in that particular sector, the Boches were 
 in training in the trenches directly opposite. It was a 
 case of "You let me alone, and I'll let you alone." The 
 French apparently had adopted this agreement. 
 
 However, we had a little combatting, not with any 
 human enemy, but with the rats that gave us an aw- 
 ful lot of trouble. Our delight was to watch for 
 them to come out of their holes and then shoot them 
 with our automatics. The cooties were right on the 
 job, too. Then it rained nearly every day till some- 
 times the mud in the trenches was a foot and a half 
 deep. But we got used to even that after a while and 
 the fellows seemed to make a joke of it as they did of 
 all their discomfort. 
 
 We were actually half contented there, when the 
 first of May, word reached us that a series of offensives 
 
46 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 were being carried out by the Germans. The news 
 that we were going into actual combat was welcome. 
 
 On the 18th of May, a French battalion that had 
 seen some terriffic fighting on the Somme front relieved 
 us. They took our places so that we could take over 
 the sector where fresh troops were needed. 
 
 Leaving the Verdun sector, we had a two-day hike 
 with very little to eat. When we reached the outskirts 
 of Paris, we were given another two weeks of hard 
 drilling and bayonet work. By this time, we were 
 becoming very expert at handling the gun and bayonet 
 and this added to our eagerness to meet the enemy. 
 
 In the little town where we were quartered, we were 
 apparently the entire population. Billeted in this vill- 
 age a long ways from the front, we began to fear we 
 would never see any real action. To our delight, one 
 night after taps had blown and we were sleeping peace- 
 fully, orders came that we were to pack up and be 
 ready to leave within a half an hour. 
 
 Exactly thirty minutes later we were on our way to 
 a train of camions that awaited us. We were simply 
 piled into these camions, driven by Chinks. For two 
 days and three nights we rode. 
 
 We were joyous to be on our way to the front, but 
 the steady stream of French refugees we passed sad- 
 dened us. Of all the pathetic scenes I ever witnessed, 
 the scenes I saw on this trip to the front were the most 
 pitiful. We were maddened by the sight of these old 
 men, women and children, hurrying to the rear with 
 whatever household goods they could scrape together 
 and pack into their carts, pulled by oxen. Our hearts 
 ached for these gentle old French folk, driven from 
 their homes by the Boche. Hatred for the Hun in- 
 creased with every mile, till we could hardly wait for 
 a chance to strike our blow at him. 
 
 During these two days and three nights, we actu- 
 ally had no food or water as our orders to depart 
 for the front had come so unexpectedly. But before 
 the actual proofs of the Huns' inhumanity and brutal- 
 ity we forgot our aching stomachs and parched throats. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 47 
 
 On the 1st of June, we arrived at the front and 
 camped three days in dugouts built under cover of the 
 darkness. Then to our great excitement, we were or- 
 dered to march four kilometers to relieve the French 
 forces that were so bravely holding their own against 
 the terrific German onslaught. The Frenchmen, hav- 
 ing fought several days and nights without a let up, 
 were sure happy to see us, while we were glad of the 
 opportunity to take their place. 
 
 For two days we were on the defensive, resisting 
 heavy artillery and machine gun fire from the enemy. 
 
 At five o'clock, on the fifth of June, without any 
 forewarning, we were ordered to go over the top in five 
 minutes. Our starting point was five hundred yards 
 in front of Belleau Wood. Jumping from our holes, 
 we snapped into skirmish formation. The Germans 
 at sight of us opened up deadly machine gun fire. The 
 rattling of their guns could not stop us, though we 
 lost many men at the start. Crossing the wheat fields 
 we lost more than half of our men. Far from discour- 
 aging us, this merely added fury to our eagerness to 
 repay the Hun. The Germans were obviously non- 
 plussed by our daring spirit and the way we faced 
 their fire. It seemed to shatter their morale. They 
 began to flee. But we could run as fast as they, so 
 within four hours, we had killed and captured about 
 five hundred Boche in the first two kilometer advance. 
 
 With darkness came a lull, giving us a chance to dig 
 ourselves in for the night, though there was sniping 
 and some artillery fire constantly. A clean-cut victory 
 for our first attempt heartened us greatly. We had no 
 more fear of the terrible Hun, already we knew him 
 for a coward. Even during our first attack, the whin- 
 ing of that word, "Kamerad," became so common that 
 we felt like veterans. In most cases, these pitiful 
 pleas to be spared were of no avail, for we had been 
 warned that while moaning "Kamerad," the Boche 
 would not hesitate to attack us if he could. So we 
 were very watchful that they shouldn't get away with 
 any tricky stuff. 
 
48 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 As I, fortunately, was not wounded in the first at- 
 tack, I did not know of the happenings in the rear. But 
 what we heard later was very gratifying. They say 
 when they heard of our victory, the French went wild 
 with joy, for this was the first time the Germans had 
 been driven back on the direct road to Paris. We were 
 mighty proud to have the honor of being the first 
 troops to start the offensive. It looks as if that marked 
 the turning point of the war. 
 
 After another sleepless night and day, we were sent 
 five kilometers to the rear. Here we had our first 
 real meal in more than a week, and believe me, we 
 certainly appreciated it. While resting the next two 
 days, we learned the Battalion that had relieved us 
 had taken up the attack successfully where we had left 
 it, and had gained their objective. We knew then, that 
 there was no possible chance for the Hun to advance 
 again. 
 
 After our two days' rest, we were again sent to the 
 front, this time in a line of trenches before the town 
 of Bouresches, which had been taken from the Boche 
 a week before. During our five days' stay in Boures- 
 ches we were peppered with more shell fire than I 
 had heard during my entire experience at the front. 
 The Germans seemed to take special delight in destroy- 
 ing houses in the village, burning them up, one by 
 one, but they could not drive us out. 
 
 After shelling us terrifically for several days, think- 
 ing that we must have evacuated, the Boche attacked 
 the town one night and discovered to their great sur- 
 prise that we were still very much there. We handed 
 them one of the biggest surprises and set-backs of their 
 lives. We peppered them so hard with machine gun 
 fire that they never got anywhere near us. Instead 
 of finishing their attack, they turned and fled like a lot 
 of crazy sheep. While they were retreating, we joy- 
 fully picked them off and they sure were soft pickings. 
 
 We had several scare attacks during our five days 
 in this town. But the Huns, seeing we intended to 
 stay, began to lose heart. It was a common sight to 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 49 
 
 see them, under cover of darkness, straggling into the 
 American lines, giving themselves up. 
 
 So far, I had been fortunate enough to come through 
 unscratched. I saw many of our old men go and new 
 ones take their places. For each fine fellow we lost, 
 we made the Boche pay toll, I promise you. The very 
 thought of bayoneting a Hun became a pleasure, and 
 to a great extent we forgot our hardships. 
 
 Relieved again, we went back for a three days' rest 
 and were then sent to another sector to relieve troops 
 that had there been successful in their attacks. 
 
 We held the lines a few days, living in the woods 
 under horrible conditions, with unburied dead lying 
 all about us. We lived in holes dug with our hands 
 or any implements we could find. The nights were 
 very quiet, but whenever we had a chance to get a little 
 sleep, those dreaded cooties, nearly as vicious as the 
 Boche, pestered us till sleep was almost impossible. 
 
 Strange to say, while in the line on the defensive, 
 or while making ready to attack, war was seldom dis- 
 cussed among the fellows. Instead we are thinking of 
 the dear old U. S. A. and the folks at home. An 
 American newspaper whenever picked up, would be 
 read so eagerly that by the time it had passed through 
 several hundred hands, it would literally hang in 
 threads. These trying periods of waiting were when 
 we most delighted in getting news from home, or even 
 just talking to each other of what was going on, back 
 in the States. With the Boche twenty-five yards away, 
 the boys would go about humming popular songs. 
 
 On the 25th of June, we were ordered to attack 
 our objective, which was on the edge of Belleau Wood, 
 east of the position still held by the enemy. In the 
 face of murderous machine gun fire we advanced with- 
 out a stop. The Germans could not understand our 
 earnestness and willingness to face anything they had. 
 
 When within a few yards of them, about to face 
 them with a bayonet, we had a way of yelling like a 
 bunch of wild Indians that scared the Boche half to 
 death. They would become so perplexed that often we 
 
50 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 found them waiting for us with their hands up whin- 
 ing, "Kamerad." We shot down the majority, for we 
 knew if we gave them a chance they would pump us 
 full of machine gun bullets. When we came close to 
 them, they would jump out of their holes and attempt 
 to be friendly. We took a few prisoners for the pur- 
 pose of getting information from them. 
 
 In this attack, a clump of woods on our left had 
 been overlooked by us. It was full of Huns, manning 
 machine guns. As they were on our left flank, they 
 were a terrible menace to us. In gaining our objec- 
 tive, we lost pretty heavily, and most of the men who 
 were fortunate enough to escape alive were wounded, 
 or utterly exhausted, and nearly dead from hunger and 
 thirst. 
 
 A volunteer party was asked to clear out the woods. 
 Death seemed certain for those attempting this deed, 
 but despite that fact and all they had already suffered, 
 there were more volunteers than were needed, ready 
 and glad to make the supreme sacrifice to make our 
 left flank safe. 
 
 I was fortunate to be numbered among the twelve 
 who attempted the clearing of the wood. We carried 
 out the orders successfully, but we lost seven out of 
 twelve men. But we realized we could not complain, 
 for ordinarily, in an attack of this kind, a platoon 
 would have been necessary to accomplish what we did. 
 
 The French gratefully rewarded the boys who vol- 
 unteered with the Croix de Guerre. 
 
 In that attack, we had captured upward of six hun- 
 dred men and numbers of machine guns. When dark- 
 ness had come and the firing ceased, a few men 
 were detached to accompany the prisoners to the rear. 
 I was put in charge of two hundred prisoners, some 
 of our wounded, and some German wounded. 
 
 We had almost a two mile stretch through the woods 
 in total darkness. While marching, we were continu- 
 ally shelled by the Hun artillery who thought we were 
 support coming up. The prisoners on the way to the 
 rear had more than one chance to escape if they had 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 51 
 
 wished to, for the shelling we received was so terrific 
 that the men carrying the wounded had to seek shelter 
 in holes and behind trees. We could not have pre- 
 vented the prisoners from scattering, the woods were 
 so dark, but instead of attempting escape, they volun- 
 tarily jumped into formation again as soon as the firing 
 ceased, and continued to march to the rear. All the 
 time they were praying in German, thanking God 
 that they were through with the war. 
 
 Finally, we arrived at the rear with our charges 
 and were greatly relieved to get rid of them. Also, 
 we had our first few hours' sleep in three or four days. 
 When we started back again, we were given food to 
 take to the men in the front lines. To carry anything 
 seemed a great effort after the strenuous work of the 
 last few days. We were utterly worn out, and I do 
 not believe we would ever have reached the lines had 
 it not been food we were carrying. But we braced 
 up and went through, for we knew how desperately 
 the boys needed that food. On the way, we were 
 steadily shelled by the enemy, several times we had to 
 drop the food in the dirty sand and lie prone on the 
 ground till the shelling had ceased. By a fairly super- 
 human effort, we reached the lines and then what we 
 brought lasted only a few minutes after it had been 
 equally distributed among the boys. It was the first 
 bit of food they had had in two days. 
 
 Searching the German dugouts, we found quite a 
 quantity of food the Germans had been unable to take 
 away with them. Evidently the men we had driven 
 out had been placed there only a few hours before we 
 attacked and had been supplied with several days' 
 rations. The brown bread and sour meat tasted mighty 
 good to us. In several instances the men emptied the 
 water out of machine guns to drink. 
 
 We held our ground until the following night, when 
 we were relieved by new troops and very thankful 
 we were to see them. 
 
 We marched to a safe distance in the rear, built our 
 own dugouts and settled down for several days. There 
 
52 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 we received our three meals a day, praise be, and an 
 abundance of fruit, chocolate and cigars that the Red 
 Cross provided. We sure were a happy crowd. 
 
 About the first of July, we were honored by a visit 
 from the former Premier of France, who told us that 
 the name of the woods we had captured had been 
 changed from Bois de Belleau to Bois de la Brigade de 
 Marine, in our honor. 
 
 We were also honored by a visit from our Brigade 
 Commander, who commended us for our good work. 
 
 July 1st we were ordered to Paris to march in the 
 parade on the fourth. Of course, we were silly with 
 delight. 
 
 We reached Paris on the Fourth and marched in the 
 parade through the streets. The French people show- 
 ered us with congratulations, they seemed wild with 
 joy and called us "Saviors of Paris." 
 
 After the parade the town was completely ours. 
 
 Wonderful while it lasted ! But the following day 
 we were told to stand ready to return to the front. 
 We were pretty blue. To go back to the trenches from 
 a city like Paris seemed about the worst thing that 
 could happen to us. We were downhearted but we 
 went back, to finish our job. 
 
 When we arrived, we played a defensive game a few 
 days and then were again sent to the rear in a little 
 town on the Marne to rest for ten days. The town 
 in which we were billeted had been evacuated by the 
 French and their homes were plentifully supplied with 
 vegetables and good things to eat. 
 
 When the ten days were up, we were loaded into 
 camions and rode for a day and a night toward Sois- 
 sons. 
 
 Up to this time, impossible as it seems, I had escaped 
 the slightest injury and was congratulating myself 
 on my luck. 
 
 The night of the 19th, a high explosive shell hit 
 within two feet of me, and put me out of business. I 
 hated to leave the field, now that the going was easy, 
 but I had to give in. Remembering all I had gone 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 53 
 
 through, I comforted myself with the thought of all 
 the good treatment I would get in the rear. I was 
 fortunate that I was not blown to smithereens as I 
 was being carried off the field for the enemy showered 
 us with high explosives. 
 
 Finally, I reached the dressing station, where I was 
 given first aid. After a couple of hours, a dozen or 
 more wounded fellows were put into a truck and we 
 began a five mile ride to the hospital. The roads were 
 torn all to pieces and the trip reached a climax of 
 pure agony. 
 
 At the evacuation hospital, I was immediately op- 
 erated on, and when I awoke I was lying in a clean, 
 white bed. It seemed like Heaven, and the other 
 wounded boys shared my feelings. 
 
 On a hospital train I was shipped to Base Numbei 
 1 and the wonderful treatment I received there more 
 than repaid any sacrifice I may have made. My re- 
 covery was so rapid that they sent me on to Base Num- 
 ber 31 at Nantes. During my two weeks there, I was 
 honored by a cot visit from General Pershing and sev- 
 eral prominent Frenchmen, who were inspecting the 
 place. 
 
 From there I went to Savenay for two days, and 
 then at last to Brest and believe me, I'd had my fill of 
 riding on hospital trains. 
 
 The Northern Pacific brought me home and how we 
 cheered when we got our first glimpse of the Statue 
 of Liberty again. 
 
 "And I'd do it all over again." 
 
54 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES. 
 
 Private Wayne W. French 
 
 Enlisted in United States Marine Corps, May, 1917. As- 
 signed to the Headquarters Company, Trench Mortar platoon, 
 Fifth Regiment. In France June, 1917. Wounded at Belle au 
 Wood. Ten months in hospitals in France and America. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 As I go back in my mind over my experiences in 
 France, I can see very clearly now the wisdom of the 
 severe training they give the Marines, and the care 
 with which they pick out their recruits. 
 
 You must know that during those first weeks of the 
 War, we lads from all over the country poured in on 
 the recruiting stations of the Marine Corps and they 
 had a big assortment to pick and choose from. 
 
 A chum of mine who went with me to enlist, was 
 turned down for what seemed to me the most trifling 
 physical defect. I was "sore" over it at the time, but 
 I know now the Marines were right to be so careful. 
 
 And in telling my story, I am going to say more 
 than perhaps you would have me say about our train- 
 ing over here. For that, to me, is the important part 
 of it. You know we made good in France, but you 
 must not be allowed to get the idea that it was simply 
 because we were Americans. It was not due to that. 
 It was because we were fit. Fit to live, to fight, or 
 die. Fit to succeed in anything we had undertaken, 
 either of a civil or a military nature. 
 
 The regular Marine course of training with the 
 country on a peace footing, is fourteen weeks. This 
 commences when the recruit takes his preliminary oath 
 and goes into quarantine. When quarantine is passed, 
 and another thorough physical examination undergone, 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 55 
 
 the second and full oath of allegiance is tendered, and 
 when taken by the man he becomes, so far as the books 
 go, a Marine. 
 
 In the meantime, he has been acquiring from the at- 
 mosphere of the camp and the bearing of the Marines 
 about him, something of the Marine spirit so when he 
 takes his place finally as one of a squad of eight, he 
 is well on the way toward becoming a soldier of the 
 sea. 
 
 The drill is intense but very intelligent. One learns 
 constantly the reason why of everything he is required 
 to do. There is a constant appeal to the recruit's 
 mind. Along with the drill, goes the "setting up" ex- 
 ercises that seem enough to break a man in pieces at 
 first, but after about three weeks have him in the pink 
 of physical condition. 
 
 They teach us, too, the importance of cleanliness and 
 order in a life to be lived among numbers of other 
 men and often in close quarters. Neatness, exactness, 
 endurance, become ingrained habits. 
 
 The rifle range comes in for attention, and no mat- 
 ter how well a man may have shaped up to that mo- 
 ment, if he cannot shoot straight or be taught the art 
 of accurate shooting, he is dropped from the Corps. 
 
 Then there are many other things we have to learn. 
 Signaling, map making, telegraphy, how to assemble, 
 dis-assemble, and use all sorts of arms. 
 
 When I tell you that under the pressure of the open- 
 ing of the War for this country, they put us through 
 this course in from six to eight weeks and then sent 
 us over seas, as samples of the kind of fighting men 
 America would contribute to the cause of Democracy, 
 you can get a line on the manner of men that made up 
 the United States Marine Corps. 
 
 It was what that training did for me that has made 
 me an advocate of universal training ever since. If 
 we could fight as we did after a few weeks of it, what 
 do you suppose we could have done in business? But 
 that's another story. The American Legion can settle 
 that business once it gets in step with the G. A. R. 
 
56 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 In May, then, I enlisted in the Marines, and the lat- 
 ter part of June I tramped down the gang plank of a 
 transport as a member of the American Expeditionary 
 Force, comprised of detachments of the Fifth Regi- 
 ment, U. S. M. C. 
 
 Some of the men remained on duty where we 
 landed, but the larger part of us were spread all over 
 France on Provost Guard duty. There we stuck at 
 that hateful job while men who had come into the 
 army and the corps after us began to see service. 
 
 But they gathered us together after a time, and we 
 began to train all over again in a training area near 
 Verdun. We men of the Fifth Marines were billeted 
 in four French villages, and they sent us French troops 
 and some bully French officers for instructors as to the 
 particular devilishness of the Huns. 
 
 Our training fields were miles away from our bil- 
 lets and every day, be the weather fair or foul, we 
 shouldered our packs and hiked it out and back. 
 
 Sixteen miles a day under baggage is no joke when 
 you, have spent the hours in between times digging 
 trenches, drilling with the bayonet, stringing wire, 
 and doing the hundreds of other things we were called 
 upon to do. 
 
 There wasn't much singing when we turned our 
 faces toward the billets, perhaps in the face of a driv- 
 ing snow storm or through rain that fell in sheets. But 
 those were the times when you found the temper of 
 the men in your outfit, when the helping hand of your 
 Buddie came like a burst of sunshine. 
 
 The officers too were bricks. They knew their end 
 of the game. 
 
 I'll tell you something, when your lieutenant takes 
 your pack for you, to give you a chance to get your 
 second breath of grit so you can bear the pain of your 
 blistered feet and not lose your place in the line, he 
 does something you don't forget when you see him go 
 down under fire. 
 
 Still our health was good and that helped. The 
 chow was fine. And through it all there ran a reso- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 57 
 
 lute thread of purpose whose reward we read in Black 
 Jack Pershing's face the day of our review. 
 
 March 15th, we went up to the line, and when we 
 were leaving the train at a little station where we de- 
 trained back of the line, the first German shell reached 
 us. We lost no men, but we heard, for the first time, 
 the scream of hate the devilish things give off and 
 the crash of the explosion, as though the world had 
 blown up. The band lost some instruments. That 
 seemed a calamity at the time, but we marched to dif- 
 ferent music so soon that now what then was tragic, 
 only evokes a smile. 
 
 When once we were in the trenches and from our 
 "combat groups" looked out over "no man's land" at 
 the ruins of villages and farm houses, saw the fields 
 pitted with craters, burned bare from shell fire and 
 poisoned by gas, we began to realize something of 
 the hell of war. 
 
 They don't give you much time to think or brood. 
 Something is always happening. And the patrol 
 work at night keyed us up. We began to lose men, 
 too, from the enemy's fire and in our encounters, 
 and, for every life the Hun took from us, you can 
 write it down we made him pay a heavy toll. 
 
 The patrol work came naturally to us. When it 
 comes to skull dugging around in the brush with a 
 gun, pot shotting, the Yank has it on the world. I'd 
 say he has. 
 
 The Huns began to hug their own trenches closely, 
 but their officers must have made up their minds it 
 would not do to let us get away with it. So they 
 put on a raid. 
 
 Our patrols were out, of course, as usual, and on 
 the night of which I write, I was one of a patrol of 
 about thirty men. We ran jam right into the Huns, 
 and there was a wild mix-up for a while. We had it 
 out with musket butt, bayonet, and fist. They out- 
 numbered us at least three to one, but we rolled them 
 up, drove them back, and then beat it for our own 
 trenches before they could get their barrage on us. 
 
58 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Those things used to scare me the next day. Many 
 a time when I had dropped over the trench to safety, 
 I found myself so weak with reaction from the nervous 
 strain I could scarcely stand, while my stomach felt 
 as it did on the way over. 
 
 About the middle of May, we were relieved and 
 went into billets in the vicinity of Bar-le-duc, where 
 we took up our drilling again, and had a chance to 
 get cleaned up and hunt the cooties we had accumu- 
 lated in the vermin infested trenches. 
 
 About this time, too, we began to hear stories of 
 disaster to the British in Picardy and Flanders. The 
 air seemed tense with German suggestion. 
 
 The countryside was abloom with all the beauty of 
 France in the spring, and through fields green with 
 young crops, and forests filled with flowers, we began 
 to move toward the British front. The faces of the 
 people in the French villages wore a brooding cloud, 
 as though they, too, felt the German menace. 
 
 The spirit of France and Britain lagged ; and while 
 we brought them some comfort, they could not believe 
 that this handful of Americans with boyish faces could 
 achieve the impossible. 
 
 Little did we suspect the role for which Fate had 
 cast us. 
 
 The afternoon of May 30th, brought us orders to 
 take camions for a destination unknown. But the cam- 
 ions did not come. We made camp in the fields, eating 
 our emergency rations, and sleeping on our ponchos 
 wrapped in our blankets. It seemed as though we had 
 but touched the ground before reveille sounded and the 
 camions were on hand, driven by haggard, hollow-eyed 
 Chinks who had forgotten what the word sleep meant. 
 
 It was a long ride and a hard one. We passed to the 
 north of Paris, and little did I think then that in a 
 few weeks I would be coming back over the same 
 road, wounded and out of it all. 
 
 The road ran by a cemetery. 
 
 "Here's a quiet sector," some one shouted with a 
 laugh, "let's take over here." 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 59 
 
 And we gathered flowers as opportunity offered, 
 decking our tin hats and uniforms. Thus the first of 
 those stricken refugees saw us, smiling, laughing, sing- 
 ing, trimmed as for a carnival, as we rolled forward 
 toward the Great Adventure. 
 
 If we did not wear our hearts on our sleeves, never- 
 theless the sight of those old men and women, the 
 little children, fleeing before the Hun, left its impres- 
 sion upon us. We thought of America away across 
 the seas, with her fields, and homes, and people in 
 peace and security, and we were mighty glad, I tell you, 
 that we could do our fighting for you, so many miles 
 away. 
 
 It is difficult for me to untangle the twisted memories 
 of the days and hours that followed. We seemed to 
 ride into a madness which grew and grew. 
 
 The camions landed us in the wrong place Orders 
 were changed from hour to hour. We had to march 
 all the next forenoon, after only two hours' rest and 
 with little to eat. Kitchens were lost, the band was 
 lost. Headquarters was lost, and we were lost, but 
 at least we marched, after the fashion of the Marines 
 when in doubt, toward the sound of the enemy's guns. 
 
 In Montreuil aux Lions, we halted for chow. There 
 was a lot of stuff the French had abandoned in their 
 flight, and it helped out the emergency rations, and 
 with full stomachs we sure had a heart for any fate. 
 
 The French troops began to pass us. The broken 
 fragments of a defeated army. Hopeless fugitives. 
 Dazed, incoherent. 
 
 We slept that night close behind the French lines 
 with batteries of French 155's splitting their throats all 
 night close by. But nothing could keep us awake. 
 
 In the morning, we began to strip for the fight and 
 take on ammunition. The French and some colonial 
 troops of theirs were reeling before the constant pres- 
 sure of the German columns, the world was filled with 
 the roar of guns. 
 
 We were breasting the high tide of German victory. 
 The eager breath of the Hun panted in our faces yet 
 
60 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 still we laughed and swore, rolled our own, and edged 
 along up into the line, touching shoulders with the 
 Sixth Marines on the right, and on the left, with the 
 French, in whom, for the moment, we had little con- 
 fidence, for they were badly shaken. But over beyond 
 the French was the 23rd Regulars, and we knew we 
 could count on it. if a break came. 
 
 In front of the position where I had dug my own 
 fox hole, were some hay stacks. The Germans tried 
 to creep up and fire them for a smoke screen. We 
 were bound to prevent it. A lively and almost good 
 natured scrimmage began, but it was in dead earnest. 
 We drove them back, keeping the ground before us 
 clear and open. When they came, they would have to 
 come in the face of the fire of hundreds of sharpshoot- 
 ers, trained to a hair, who had lived all their lives for 
 that one moment and thought of no other. 
 
 Some of our engineers came up and helped get our 
 position into more tenable condition. The Hun fiddled 
 around, seemingly unable to realize that we boys had 
 come to stay. 
 
 News began to come to us. We heard of the great 
 fight of our machine gunners at Chateau-Thierry. 
 
 Our officers slipped along exchanging a few words 
 with us, telling us what they knew of the situation, 
 of the danger to Paris and the Allied armies. They 
 made us understand that we held the line for the world. 
 They did not need to tell us that we were to hold 
 the line. We knew it. We knew what we were there 
 for. 
 
 It was the great moment of the Marines ! 
 
 I am not going to write of the fight. You know it 
 by heart. It was the things that were behind us of 
 which I have written, that made it possible. To me, 
 they are more important than the fight. 
 
 I am reminded that this is supposed to be my story. 
 Well, I was wounded by a H. E. shell while coming 
 out of Belleau Wood. The same shell killed my best 
 friend, within reach of my hand. It turned, in a sec- 
 ond, that joyous chap into an object so loathsome to 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 61 
 
 see, that at nights still I awake in a cold sweat of 
 horror from my dreams. But he did not suffer. 
 
 For ten months, I have been in the hospitals in 
 France and America and I'll tell you this, I am mighty 
 glad we kept it all over there. 
 
PRIVATE FRANK J. VANDERHOVEN 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 63 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT. 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Private Frank J. Vanderhoven 
 
 Born in Passaic, N. J., Dec. 23, 1897. Enlisted at Paterson, 
 N. J., March 31, 1915, in United States Marine Corps. Served 
 in Haiti and Santo Domingo. Overseas June 26, 1917,, with 
 5th regiment of Marines. Verdun, Chateau-Thierry, Belleau 
 Wood, Soissons, and Champagne. Probably first Neiv Jersey 
 soldier ivounded in the War. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I enlisted in the Marine Corps in time of peace, be- 
 fore we had the company and regimental organization. 
 Then, when trouble broke out, it was the custom to 
 grab up a handful of Marines and send them off to 
 frown on the disturbers of international peace. 
 
 We saw some lively service in the Island Republics, 
 and certainly learned to like those countries. We were 
 back in the United States for Christmas in 1916. 
 
 It was my good fortune to be made a part of the 
 first outfit the Marines sent to France, and I arrived 
 there in June, 1917. Some of the men were detailed 
 for provost guard duty, but again I was fortunate and 
 went with the single detachment that took up train- 
 ing at once. 
 
 I can't go into all that now, more than to mention 
 that we were sent to the trenches on the Verdun front 
 in March, 1918, and, while there, I was one of fifteen 
 of our men who, from our "combat posts," met a heavy 
 German attack upon our lines and repelled the same, 
 for which the French Government awarded us the 
 Croix de Guerre. 
 
 Our next big rumpus was in the Chateau-Thierry 
 sector. There, in June, we taught the whole world 
 the value of infantry that knows how to shoot. 
 
 When the Boche attacked our lines, with his closed 
 
64 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 up ranks, in wave upon wave, in the full confidence 
 of victory, it was not our few machine guns that piled 
 him up, but the deadly accuracy of our Marine sharp- 
 shooters and marksmen who, crouching in their fox 
 holes, picked their men and killed them, one after an- 
 other, with the cool, deliberate shooting they had been 
 trained in and schooled in on the ranges. We wasted 
 few cartridges that day. 
 
 In fact, I want to say that I have never yet heard of 
 the Marines really running out of ammunition. The 
 enemy is always shot to pieces before that stage of the 
 game. 
 
 At this time, we had great help from the Engineers, 
 I believe the 2nd Regiment, who not only helped us 
 dig but helped us fight, and believe me, those bucks are 
 some keen eyed shots and handy with a gun. 
 
 But the really exciting experiences I had in France 
 were not when I was in action, so to speak, that is on 
 the battle line, but on special details. 
 
 While we were near Lucy le Bocage, I was detailed 
 to go after chow. The kitchens were kept back in the 
 reserve where they were supposed to be safe from the 
 German guns. The chow detail consisted of about 
 fifty men, and we had to bring up the grub for at least 
 a thousand of the hungriest men you ever saw. 
 
 If the kitchens were safe, the going and coming to 
 them was darned unhealthy. On our way back, a Hun 
 flier got a peep at us and we very promptly were 
 treated to a heavy shelling with mustard gas shell, 
 just about the cussedest thing in the military line there 
 is. 
 
 We dropped the chow, took what cover was avail- 
 able, and waited for darkness to make it possible to 
 go ahead. 
 
 Presently, the Hun let up on us, so gathering up 
 our assorted chow, we started on and reached our line 
 to find that in our absence, the men had come in for 
 a heavy shelling with H. E. and shrapnel and had suf- 
 fered many casualties. 
 
 There were the hungry to be fed and the wounded 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 65 
 
 to be cared for, while several fellows had gone raving 
 mad. Somehow or other, we got the men fed, the 
 wounded on the way back to the rear, and the poor dev- 
 ils who had gone crazy passed on to those who would 
 get them away from the row as quickly as possible. 
 
 That night sticks out in my memory beyond all 
 others. The feeling and fumbling around in the dark ; 
 the sour sweaty bodies of the men; the strong reek 
 from the exploded shell and the taint of the food gone 
 cold and messy. All these things assailed me, and even 
 to this day when I get in a crowd, I feel sick and ner- 
 vous and live through it all again. 
 
 Along toward dawn, the Hun shelled us again for a 
 short interval. One H. E. burst fairly among a group 
 of the men, killing several and messing the others up, 
 and another man went crazy. A sergeant he was ; he 
 grabbed up his gun and began prowling around ; we 
 were trying to catch him and disarm him, but he 
 kept us away with the play of his gun till a Yale lad, 
 who had played on the football team, made a quick 
 dive tackle and brought him down. 
 
 I tell you, people, it's mighty tough to see your 
 friends killed about you, but it sure does make you 
 sick all over to see a fine, big chap driven crazy. 
 
 But we had our fun, too. It wasn't all misery and 
 tragedy. 
 
 There was once when we moved camp, that we fell 
 heir to an assorted bunch of live stock. Some ancient 
 cows that could, however, be induced to give a little 
 milk; some hens that laid real eggs while they lived, 
 though their span of life was about that of a dis- 
 patch rider. You know they figured out a dispatch 
 rider lived about twelve minutes. 
 
 Where we were at the time, they allowed us to 
 build fires. Presently, some one proposed that we kill 
 the cows, on the principle that a steak between the ribs 
 was worth a dozen drops of milk in a cup of coffee. 
 
 We didn't have a butcher in the command. They all 
 seem to be Germans any way. By the tirne we had our 
 beef slaughtered and dressed, the place looked like a 
 
66 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 shambles and the men as though they had been "mop- 
 ping up" Jerries. 
 
 Such cuts of beef no man has seen, I guess, since 
 cave man days. But I'll say it tasted good and felt 
 better, for all the job was not done in the best of style. 
 
 We saw quite a lot of the 26th division. The 
 Yankees, they call themselves. 1 hey didn't kndw 
 much about the fine points of soldiering that cut the 
 hard corners and save a lot of lives, but they were 
 game, and nothing but death ever stopped them. They 
 saw plenty of that. 
 
 When they got going after an objective they forgot 
 all about cover, and extended order, so they would 
 be bunched together, and then the Hun machine gun- 
 ers would give it to them. But those boys never 
 stopped; a few of them would manage to get to 
 the objective, and then you'd see about four times 
 their number of Huns coming back on the run. 
 
 I think I am entitled to figure in history as the first 
 New Jersey boy wounded after America went into 
 the War. 
 
 In March, 1918, I was gassed, and then again in the 
 Chateau-Thierry sector I was wounded in the right 
 side and sent to the hospital for a while. 
 
 I'm living now in Paterson, and Jersey sure does 
 look good to me. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 67 
 
 Soldier s Letter 
 
 "Had an unexpected fight the other evening. Just 
 before sunset, our company had fought its way into a 
 small woods. There was some decent water there, and 
 every one was was tired and hungry. On either flank, 
 the rest of the battalion was coming into line with the 
 front as we had established it. From the edge of the 
 wood ran an irregular piece of broken country, with 
 many small shrubs and clumps of bushes. The ground 
 rose slightly. The Huns were dug-in about a hundred 
 yards away on the rising ground. 
 
 "The Colonel had come up and was snooping along 
 the edge of our line looking the ground over with an 
 I. O. Suddenly some batteries farther back, in re- 
 sponse to signals from the German trench, began to 
 shell us. A few stray shots. Ranging. I heard the 
 Colonel swear and bark an order. The officers began 
 flying around. 
 
 "The men were all alert before any orders were 
 given. Into the open stepped the Colonel. He stopped 
 with his back to the Hun trench and spoke to us : 
 
 11 'Step out men and give it to them. They're asking 
 for it' 
 
 "I was the fifth man out. The whole outfit pounded 
 along. We had that trench before the Hun really 
 woke up. Only two casualties and they weren't hos- 
 pital cases." 
 
CORPORAL PAUL BONNER 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 69 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE FIRST TO FIGHT 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 
 
 Paul Bonner 
 
 Born and still lives in New York. Enlisted in Marines. 
 Overseas with 5th regiment. Brought out Captain Blanch- 
 field under heavy fire. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 The men who could tell the best stories of this war 
 are dead, for they could tell of the supreme act of 
 the war, the passing out. We who live, however, can 
 tell many things, and I confess I am rather anxious to 
 write a small part of my story because I want it on 
 paper before its depth is lessened by civil life. The 
 greatest action I participated in was the fight in Bel- 
 leau Wood, and I am going to write of that. Not 
 of the battle from the broad viewpoint of the General 
 who commanded, but from the viewpoint of the pri- 
 vate soldier who took his orders and carried out his 
 oath of enlistment to the last. 
 
 My first recollection of what happened, is that I 
 was riding in an auto truck, tired, and kept from 
 sleeping only by the jarring of the car. For two days, 
 we went over a road of swirling dust, and at night we 
 were dumped in a field. A night of fitful sleeping, or 
 rather three hours of fitful sleeping, interrupted by a 
 lone German who came over to bomb us, and we were 
 on our way in the morning. 
 
 We walked, half asleep, and just doggedly going 
 on until suddenly we came on soldiers running to the 
 rear, retreating. They were Africans and French sol- 
 diers and they shouted to us that the Germans were 
 coming on. We suddenly became alert. We heard 
 officers shouting to us to keep right on going. We ran 
 up a road toward a hill and as we reached the top, I 
 
70 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 saw my commanding officer, Captain John Blanchfield, 
 standing at the side of the road. 
 
 "The devils are coming on," he shouted. "You have 
 been waiting for them for a year; now go get them." 
 
 He was shouting in his Irish brogue and his blood 
 was up. He thrilled every one of us. We ran across 
 a wheat field and dropped in it. We lay there and 
 watched our shrapnel shells breaking far ahead. By 
 the approach of our own breaking shell, we gauged 
 the advance of the enemy and, sure enough, when the 
 shell were breaking about a thousand yards away, we 
 spotted the figures of the enemy marching on in single 
 columns. Now and then a shell would get one of 
 them, but the rest kept coming. 
 
 We all looked to see that our rifles were loaded. 
 From somewhere along the road we got the command 
 to fire. Sharpshooters only, I thought I heard them 
 say, but everybody fired. Those Germans just melted 
 away. Whole columns went down and the others 
 scattered to the right and the left. They were utterly 
 stunned and surprised, and there was not an answering 
 shot. 
 
 All night we waited but not a shot was fired. At 
 dawn, however, their artillery came up and out of the 
 sky their shell began to tumble. When a man was 
 wounded someone would call, "Hospital man." A Red 
 Cross man would rush out to carry away the fallen 
 one and another soldier would take his comrade's 
 place. All day and night we stayed there and many 
 times the line was refilled, but a few of us lived 
 through. 
 
 Sometime the next day, and mind you, we had not 
 had water or food all this time, we got an order to go 
 ahead. Blanchfield led the column down the Torcy 
 road. We did not know Germans were there. They 
 let us pass, and they opened from the flanks. I saw 
 Blanchfield fall, right on the road. Everybody scat- 
 tered. I started to run, then I thought of Blanchfield, 
 and I started back. I rushed across the road, machine 
 gun bullets whipping the air everywhere, and I made 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 71 
 
 the Captain's side. He was still alive. He was twice 
 my size, but I picked him up and carried him back. I 
 got him into the woods to a doctor and left him to look 
 for the company. I found them just in time to be in 
 for the orders to attack Belleau Wood. 
 
 We went in from one side of the woods. Men were 
 falling everywhere. We got the first German funk 
 holes and found many dead ones there and a few 
 live ones. There were a few fights. A big German 
 lunged at me, and now he will never see his father 
 in the Fatherland any more. W T e stayed there while 
 the Germans pounded us with artillery. 
 
 From then on, it was just a case of stay there while 
 they pounded. For twenty-three days we remained, 
 just hanging on and then gaining a little. Most of the 
 old originals were gone and we were fighting with re- 
 placements. Then we got a few days rest and back 
 again we went. We stayed twenty days more, but fin- 
 ally in one grand smash, we broke in at dawn one 
 morning; I never knew the exact date, and we had all 
 of the woods. 
 
 The Germans had been stopped ; but from Bel- 
 leau on it was one grand smash. To Soissons, and then 
 to Blanch Mont, then to the Argonne. Just one con- 
 tinual repetition of Belleau Wood until that Novem- 
 ber morning when all the Germans said "Kamerad," 
 and it was finished. Many weeks later I heard that 
 an officer saw me carry Blanchfield away and had 
 recommended me for the D. S. C. Isn't it funny to 
 get that for doing a thing at a time when I was more 
 scared than at anv time during the war. 
 
72 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Captain Wilmar H. Bradshaw, son of William R. 
 Bradshaw, of 57 Locust Street, who was with the 
 Ninth Regiment, Infantry Second Division, during the 
 war, and who participated in various engagements in 
 France, has been awarded the Croix de Guerre, for 
 bravery, by the French Government. 
 
 The young officer received this much coveted reward 
 Thursday afternoon, together with a letter from the 
 War Department of France. 
 
 The letter stated that the award was made to Cap- 
 tain Bradshaw for his bravery and fearlessness in the 
 battle of Soissons, July 18, when he led a detachment 
 of his men in a scouting party in an attack on the 
 enemy, amid a fusilade of machine gun bullets. In 
 this attack about three-quarters of the officers of Cap- 
 tain Bradshaw's regiment were killed. 
 
 As a result of Captain Bradshaw's work a band of 
 five hundred Germans was surrounded and taken pris- 
 oners. In the letter which accompanied the cross, it 
 was stated that the award was made to Captain Brad- 
 shaw on the personal recommendation of Major Foch, 
 whose attention had been called to the young officer's 
 wonderful bravery. 
 
 This incident happened a few weeks after Captain 
 Bradshaw had been discharged from the hospital, 
 where he had been detained eleven weeks because of 
 a bullet wound received in another engagement — 
 Flushing Journal, May 23. 
 
PART II. 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
J 
 
 CAPTAIN WILMAR BRAD^T 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 75 
 
 I. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 
 
 Bom in Brooklyn. Resides 57 Locust Ave., Flushing. 
 Graduate Jamaica Normal School. First Plattsburg Camp and 
 officers' training camp in France. Commissioned 2nd lieutenant 
 and assigned Ninth U. S. I. (Regular). Promoted to Captain 
 while on duty. Cited for obtaining valuable information and 
 leading his men with courage and coolness. Croix de Guerre. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Outdoor life and athletic games have always at- 
 tracted me, and while I am about the last person one 
 would suspect of cherishing military ambitions, I own 
 up frankly to a great admiration for soldiers. 
 
 The impression soldiers always made upon me was 
 of men who were pulled together morally and physi- 
 cally. I liked their modest aggressiveness. 
 
 The Plattsburg Camp struck me as a splendid op- 
 portunity for young men, a few years out of school 
 and college, to find themselves again, become once 
 more alert and fit, and above all, learn the value of 
 team work, obedience and discipline. 
 
 There was a promise in the camps, so it seemed to 
 me, of those things the nation needed at a time when 
 we were getting just a little soft and flabby. 
 
 After my training at Plattsburg, I was commis- 
 sioned a second lieutenant and sent right off to France. 
 
 There I had a six weeks' course at our officers' train- 
 ing camp near Marseilles. 
 
 Those were the great days for our men in France. 
 Everywhere we were received with the greatest en- 
 thusiasm, loaded with flowers, and all that France and 
 her people had to give. It was just what we needed. 
 It brought us up on our spiritual tip-toes, as the roar 
 of the fans on the side lines stiffens up the home eleven 
 when they trot out on the field to meet an opposing 
 team with a big rep. 
 
76 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 I think every one of us, in the silent sanctuary of our 
 souls, took a solemn oath that we would fail neither 
 America nor France. 
 
 When I left the camp, I was assigned to Company 
 A of the Ninth Infantry. The famous Old Fighting 
 Ninth, whose story is the history of the republic. 
 
 It was good for me to be sent to such a regiment. 
 
 Of course the regiment was filled with new men, and 
 most of the younger officers were, like myself, Platts- 
 burg men or veterans up from the ranks. But the 
 non-commissioned officers, who are, after all, the mak- 
 ing of a command, were mostly of the old army, and 
 we had a leavening, in the ranks, of men who had 
 served a long time in the Ninth and other regular 
 regiments. 
 
 I joined the regiment at Langres, France, and there 
 we drilled and drilled the men, and the men taught us 
 new officers many things only an old campaigner 
 knows. 
 
 By the middle of January, we were engaged in real 
 training, and on the 17th of March, St. Patrick's Day, 
 left for the front on a sector near St. Mihiel. The 
 Irish of the regiment hailed it as a good omen, travel- 
 ling that day, to those songs of the Emerald Isle the 
 Irish love and sing so well. 
 
 The spirit of the troops was superb. They bore 
 themselves with that assurance I had always admired. 
 They knew they had much to learn and would pay for 
 their lessons and experience with their own blood, yet 
 they went to the ordeal with the confidence of men 
 who were sure of their ability to do what had to be 
 done, and do it right. 
 
 Of course our experiences in the training trenches 
 were but child's play compared with what followed, 
 but they were rigorous to us then. The First Division, 
 had already been in training and through its tour of 
 duty in the trenches. 
 
 The Second Division was organized. It consisted of 
 the Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry, the Third Bri- 
 gade, the Fifth and Sixth Marines, the Sixth Machine 
 
ECHOE S FROM OVER THERE 77 
 
 Gun Battalion, the Fourth Brigade. Major General 
 Omar Bundy commanded the division. 
 
 And now that I have spoken of the division as or- 
 ganized, I want to set down some facts as to the ac- 
 complishments of these men that perhaps should go 
 at the end of this article, but I prefer to place them 
 here. 
 
 In the fighting in which American troops were en- 
 gaged in France, the Second Division took one fourth 
 of all the prisoners that fell to the Americans ; suffered 
 one-tenth of all the casualties, about 36,000, and won 
 twice as many crosses as our nearest competitor, the 
 First Division. 
 
 Let these simple straightforward facts answer those 
 who have criticised the Regular Army. I feel that I 
 may well point them out, though I belonged to that 
 army, for I am not a professional soldier. 
 
 For all the millions the people of the United States 
 have spent upon their devoted little army, they were 
 paid in full in the bloody days in France between June 
 and November, 1918. 
 
 If their record were less strong, my story would 
 not be so long. As it is, I pass over the fiery days in 
 the Chateau-Thierry salient, when with the Third we 
 bore the brunt of the last German rush for Paris. 
 
 The Marines, in the first part of "Echoes From Over 
 There," have told the story of the Chateau-Thierry 
 salient, and generously accorded us our meed of praise. 
 So I pass on to the great offensive at Soissons, when 
 in the thunder of our barrage, the whole world heard 
 the story of German disaster, and even the War Lord 
 himself knew the field was lost. 
 
 When Foch realized that his opportunity had come, 
 he did not make the mistake of sending a boy on a 
 man's errand. From the long line of fire extending 
 from Switzerland to the sea, he culled the best there 
 was in fighting men. The Morrocans moved into Vil- 
 lers-Cotterets Forest, where they joined their lines on 
 one flank with the First Division, and on the other 
 with the Second. 
 
78 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Feats of marching, perhaps on some occasions 
 matched, but certainly never excelled, marked the ef- 
 forts of all these troops to get into position. 
 
 They came to the battle line on the morning of the 
 18th of July, tired from days and nights of continuous 
 forced marches, made without food or water, in 
 drenching rain, along roads jammed with men and 
 transport. 
 
 They came with spirits high, from losses which, in 
 other wars and on other fields, had meant the annihila- 
 tion of the commands engaged. But the victory won 
 in the Chateau-Thierry salient was no Phyrric victory, 
 whatever the foe may have thought. 
 
 As dawn broke rosy in the east after a night of 
 storm, there in the purple depths of the Forest of 
 Villers-Cotterets, we counted off. Some eight hun- 
 dred men were reported as "present" in our battalion 
 of the Ninth. 
 
 Scarcely had we finished "counting," when the guns 
 hidden in the woods broke their silence. 
 
 It was our barrage that was being put over, yet we 
 trembled at its violence. Then came the reaction. On 
 the wings of that thunder of the artillery, our spirits 
 rose and rose; tired figures lost their droop, eyes 
 dulled with suffering grew bright with the passion of 
 victory. 
 
 The soul of the regiment recognized the great hour. 
 A psychological change was wrought on the instant. 
 The regiment reached, at that time, its highest state of 
 organization. It had but one mind. 
 
 As suddenly as it had begun, the racket stopped. 
 The men swung forward without command ; in a wild 
 dash they reached the first German line, and with faces 
 averted passed the charnel house the guns had made of 
 the position. 
 
 On they raced, now checked for a few minutes 
 where great trees riven by the blast sprawled in the 
 way, and again broken where a machine gun nest, that 
 had survived, tore gaps in the lines before the eager 
 bayonets did their work. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 79 
 
 They were taking no prisoners then. 
 
 In those breathless moments of the first onward 
 sweep, a thousand acts of deathless heroism were per- 
 formed and valor became ordinary, trite. 
 
 Oh, but those boys from America, so many still in 
 their teens, were magnificent ! The officers fell, and 
 fell, yet still the ranks moved on, the boys doing with- 
 out direction the things that should be done. 
 
 I saw them by threes, fours, sometimes larger num- 
 bers, caught in tight holes, where life for them and 
 success for the drive hung by an eyelash. Again and 
 again they met the sudden call, mastered the hereto- 
 fore unencountered situation. 
 
 Where had they learned this martial lore? What 
 sort of a throwback to some fierce ancestral soldier 
 strain was I beholding? Then came the answer in a 
 flash. They had learned it on the ball fields. It was 
 hit and run. It was the infield pinching in or dropping 
 back. The quick pick-up of the fumbled ball, and 
 the instant dash for the hole in the line for the touch 
 down that meant victory. 
 
 Mental alertness was the heritage of those lads of 
 ours, and they used it wisely that day. 
 
 Later on, they were hung up for a while, but there 
 could be no stopping; the drive must go home. The 
 guns could not help for they knew not where the line 
 was. The tanks came to the rescue. They "treated 
 'em rough" as they advanced, brushing down stand- 
 ing trees as though they were but stalks of grain, 
 waltzing into gullies, smashing their ugly snouts down 
 on gun positions and machine gun nests. 
 
 Under cover of the demoralization they caused, the 
 men were under way again. 
 
 T T T T 
 
 Far and wide ran the racket of the fight. We had 
 outrun the Morrocans, but off on the flank in the rear, 
 we could hear the roar of their advance still carrying 
 on. Away we went with our second breath. 
 
 The fighting grew bitter. The Hun was pouring 
 in fresh troops to stop us, and though we broke 
 
80 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 through them again and again, there were always 
 others to take their places. 
 
 We were fighting now for each yard of gain and 
 buying it with life. A last surge, and we came to rest 
 under shelter of an embankment along the edge of the 
 woods. The entrenching tools came out and we made 
 the ground fly as we dug in. The woods full of Ger- 
 mans spread far about us. The Morrocans were not 
 yet up, but the roar of the battle on their front told 
 us they had not quit. 
 
 The rear was still open — a long brown path back 
 to the position of the morning. There in the shadow 
 of the tall columnar trunks, our wounded lay in hun- 
 dreds, hanging on to life with desperate pluck, refusing 
 the little aid that could be offered them, so that no 
 fighting men need be taken from the little handful of 
 121 that were left us after the day's work. 679 men 
 and 43 officers of our battalion were missing when we 
 ''counted off" after the battle. 
 
 After the battle, do I say? But there was no after. 
 
 The enemy was searching us with his guns, trying to 
 organize resistance all about us. Still we hung on, 
 and by some miracle of modern times, food reached us 
 before dark set in. 
 
 Against a strong attack promptly made and pushed 
 home regardless of cost, we should have been practi- 
 cally helpless, for we had with us then but three ma- 
 chine guns, two automatic rifles and of course the 
 soldiers' rifles. 
 
 There were three of us officers upon whom the com- 
 mand had now devolved. Captain Foley, of Fort 
 Leavenworth, Kansas ; Lieutenant Parkhurst, of New 
 London, a son of Colonel Parkhurst, and myself. But 
 -we had all the help we needed from those splendid 
 men still left us. I can never do them justice. 
 
 As the night drew on, we heard much noise to our 
 left, and Captain Foley ordered me to take out a pat- 
 rol and find out what was going on. I took with me 
 Sergeant Carroll, of Whitestone. 
 
 "Go in from the right, Sergeant," I directed, "and 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 81 
 
 I'll go in from the left. We'll circle towards each 
 other, and try and get a few prisoners." 
 
 "Leave it to me," said Carroll, "I can talk German; 
 I used to work in College Point." 
 
 His words brought a laugh from us. Then each of 
 us with our parties, struck for our destination. Soon 
 I heard Carroll yell and went to his aid as fast as pos- 
 sible. When I came up to his party, I found they had 
 three German prisoners covered with their rifles. Car- 
 roll was calling to these prisoners in his College Point 
 German, "Handy Ho ! Handy Ho !" meaning of course 
 "hands up !" 
 
 I went through the prisoners and took their "stuff," 
 then we brought them in and questioned them. We 
 learned that there was a ravine off just beyond, where 
 some 400 more of them were digging in and prepar- 
 ing positions. 
 
 After obtaining this information, I went back and 
 looked their position over, while some of the other 
 men scouted all night for water. 
 
 The German position was too strong for us to at- 
 tack. On the farther bank of the ravine they had es- 
 tablished machine gun nests and an officers' dug out; 
 the bottom of the ravine was filled with infantry. I 
 was able to map the entire position, and locate each 
 machine gun before the Morrocans came up in the 
 morning. 
 
 After figuring the ranges exactly, the Morrocans 
 opened up a machine gun barrage on the position and 
 cleaned out the whole lot without a single casualty to 
 the Moriiocans. 
 
 For this, and my conduct in the engagement, I was 
 cited. 
 
 But all the credit and the glory should go to the 
 men in the ranks, who, with almost all their officers 
 killed and wounded, fought it out to a successful fin- 
 ish, and carried on again the next day. 
 
 In the fighting around St. Mihiel I was wounded in 
 both legs and in the back, having twenty-one inches 
 of wounds. 
 
HYMAN ZUCKER 
 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 83 
 
 II. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Private Hyman Zucker 
 
 Enlisted Regular Army, June, 1917. Overseas, October, 
 1917 , with Battery E, 17th Field Artillery, 2nd Division. Cha- 
 teau-Thicrry-Belleau Wood. Wounded severely. Received 
 D. S. C. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Patriotism, and a longing to do my bit for my coun- 
 try, prompted me to enlist in the service on June 28th, 
 1917, at Fort Slocum. 
 
 Six days later I was sent to Camp Robinson, Wis- 
 consin, and placed in the Seventeenth Field Artillery. 
 After five months of training, they shipped me to New- 
 port News, and from there I left for overseas October, 
 1917, aboard the Adriatic. 
 
 We landed at Brest and went to Chamillon, where 
 we received French guns, 155 millimeters. 
 
 About three months later, we participated in the 
 drive at Belleau Wood, and then at the Marne, where 
 we supported the Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry. 
 
 Right there at the Marne, occurred the most 
 important event of my life, at least as far as my career 
 in this war is concerned. 
 
 An ammunition dump was on fire, threatening the 
 immediate destruction of everything about the place. 
 The officers called for volunteers to put out the fire. 
 They wanted only the shortest men ; so, with six other 
 men, I volunteered to extinguish the flames. In half 
 an hour we accomplished the task. 
 
 For this act of bravery, I was awarded the Dis- 
 tinguished Serv.xe Cross. 
 
 While we had been thus engaged, our battery had 
 shifted. We were seven days and nights gettting 
 
84 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 back to our battery. Meanwhile we were sure out 
 of luck as we had only our emergency rations. Fin- 
 ally, we met our battery at Cotterets. There I was 
 in action three days while we were supporting the 
 Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry, and the Fifth and 
 Sixth Marines. 
 
 At six in the morning of July 18th, there was a sud- 
 den burst of shell and my legs were filled with shrap- 
 nel. I wonder if you realize what shrapnel does to a 
 fellow? A bullet is a merciful thing because it makes 
 a clean wound and the doctors have a chance to re- 
 move it. But shrapnel just splinters its way all 
 through you and the doctors have to cut away great 
 pieces of flesh around the wound. 
 
 I was sent to a base hospital in Lorraine, where I 
 remained till December. 
 
 On December 13th, we left on the Mauretania for 
 the good old U. S. A. 
 
 Back in the States once more, I went to General 
 Hospital No. 9, at Lakewood, N. J., where I remained 
 until early in March. 
 
 'On April 1st I was honorably discharged. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 85 
 
 III. . 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Sergeant Ray Smith 
 
 Born in Camden, N. J. Enlisted August 31, 1917. Overseas 
 in November. Assigned Machine Gun Company, 28th Infan- 
 try, First Division. Wounded at Cantigny and in Soissons 
 
 offensive. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 The Twenty-eighth Infantry, in which I was a sol- 
 dier, was assigned to the First Division. This Divi- 
 sion was composed entirely of the so-called "regular" 
 regiments, but its ranks were filled with chaps like my- 
 self who sure were amateurs at the military game. We 
 quickly found ourselves thrilled by contact with the 
 veterans of the regiment, and soon gave ourselves all 
 the airs which the professional soldier does not af- 
 fect. 
 
 We were the first troops of our army to get the 
 training at the front, so it happened that while the 
 Second Division was still in training, we were drawing 
 first blood from the Hun for our own army. 
 
 On April 27, we took over the so-called "Cantigny 
 sector." 
 
 At that time, trench warfare conditions prevailed 
 in that sector, and the position was relatively quiet. 
 The French and Germans exchanged a few shell each 
 day, and there was an occasional raid. 
 
 When we took over, things immediately livened up. 
 But the Hun was given no time to make any new dis- 
 positions before we were up and at him. 
 
 On the 27th, our Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Artillery 
 cut loose with their famous million dollar barrage, 
 pounding the German positions with shell of every de- 
 scription. As I listened to the guns open up, it 
 
86 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 brought me back to the early days of my youth, when 
 I was a copy boy on the Philadelphia North American, 
 and the presses would begin their run with a roar that, 
 in those days, seemed like some sound. 
 
 "There goes the special extra edition !" I remarked 
 to one of the boys, and I'll say the Hun thought it was 
 a "special extra" right enough. 
 
 On the 28th, the Twenty-eighth "went over the top." 
 The first American offensive was on. 
 
 It was a pretty sight to see our men as they moved 
 on toward the German positions. We marched 
 behind the cover of our own barrage. We were con- 
 scious of course, that the eyes of the world were on us, 
 and for that, though our stomachs felt like jelly, we 
 held our heads high, chins in, and dressed the lines as 
 though for parade. 
 
 We were, if anything, just a little too unconscious 
 of the men who fell, and the bullets that tore by, the 
 shell that burst among us. It was deadly serious. 
 Later on, we got to where we could go in with a smile, 
 a laugh, and a cigarette. But not then. 
 
 We couldn't forget for a minute, the past history of 
 our country, and we were concerned over living up to 
 what the world had been told about the Americans. 
 
 We had French baby tanks to lead us in, and they 
 manouvered about the fields like nothing in the world 
 so much as the trained seals in the circus. Some cir- 
 cus it was, for we took the blamed old place in just 55 
 minutes, and there never was any question but that 
 we had it. 
 
 Fritz did not want us to get away with it. It was 
 giving us too much prestige in the eyes of his own 
 troops. There were several counter attacks, and some 
 heavy shelling but "nothing doing." 
 
 I was a machine gunner, as I believe I have already 
 said. Those little old machine guns of. ours were just 
 naturally starving for some real action. They got it 
 when the Hun reacted. We fed the guns Germans 
 till they grew white hot with the murder. 
 
 But we had to have food and water, and the Terries 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 87 
 
 kept all the back areas under continual fire. No get- 
 ting anything up to us, except by volunteers. 
 
 I was given charge of one of these volunteer carry- 
 ing parties. We had learned in our first trench train- 
 ing, to time shell bursts, so by close work and quick 
 moving, our party got back to the kitchens and loaded 
 up. 
 
 There were some of our boys back there who had not 
 gone in with us when we went "over the top," and 
 they were just wild for a chance to get up to the lines. 
 I got twelve additions to my party right there. 
 
 As my own party had enough food for the troops, 
 I had the new men pack water. For fighting is the 
 dryest business in the world. 
 
 It was still quite light when we started back. The 
 Hun spotted us ; I daresay we looked like re-enforce- 
 ments. But he let us get a good start, then put a bar- 
 rage on us. 
 
 I had told the men, if we came under heavy fire, to 
 take cover in shell holes and lie doggo until the "straf " 
 was over. 
 
 We kept working our way along, but when we had 
 five men wounded, although slightly, and the barrage 
 still burst about us, I called to the men to take cover. 
 They did it very cheerfully. 
 
 After a while the Hun gave it up. Ordering the men 
 forward, I stopped to count my party and found I was 
 one man short. My attention was attracted to an old 
 well near some ruined buildings. Looking into the 
 well, I saw at the bottom a little Irishman, my missing 
 man. In the excitement of taking cover the fellow had 
 jumped into the well, which fortunately was quite dry. 
 There was about the sides and bottom, however, a 
 heavy green scum. Calling a couple of the water car- 
 riers and uniting our efforts, we finally succeeded in 
 getting the man to the top. 
 
 A fine looking Irisher he was, coated green from 
 head to toe, and spitt'ng the filthy stuff out of his 
 mouth. 
 
88 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 "For God's sake, what were you doing down there ?" 
 I demanded. 
 
 "Faith, Sarg, you said to get into a hole, and that 
 was the damndest, biggest hole I could find." 
 
 Well, we all had our laugh, and the rest of the way 
 back to our lines was made easier for the joke. Sol- 
 diers need to laugh and ease the nervous strain. 
 
 Shortly after that, I was wounded under the right 
 arm, but the Red Cross and our surgeons pulled me 
 together, so I was back with the boys for the grand 
 old row at Soissons. 
 
 During that muss, while reconoitering a machine gun 
 nest, I stumbled into a shell hole and found a live Ger- 
 man there ahead of me. He went for me with his bay- 
 onet, but the "ring" was too small for him. At that, I 
 got the tip of his bayonet in the fleshy part of my left 
 leg. Before he could get the bayonet loose, I clipped 
 him a stiff jolt on the jaw, and out he went. I grabbed 
 my automatic and finished him off. 
 
 Some time later, I was in charge of a temporary hos- 
 pital just back of the lines. We had many French and 
 American wounded and 1 was, myself, just getting 
 around from another nasty bite the Hun had taken out 
 of my hide. 
 
 Some movements were on, and for the time being, 
 the Allied line before the place was being withdrawn. 
 We had quick orders to evacuate the wounded. By 
 sticking to it till the last minute, and going back with 
 the troops, we got every one of the wounded out. 
 
 I wish I had the gift of writing so I could put be- 
 fore you, in words that would make you see it, the 
 courage and grit of our boys. 
 
 In justice to them I must at least try. 
 
 The first night of the Soissons drive, one of our 
 men developed shell shock. He jumped to his feet 
 and began to lunge about him with his fixed bayonet, 
 swinging his musket in the dreadful "butts manual." 
 
 I called to the men to see what could be done to trip 
 him or disarm him, but he fought with the ferocity and 
 wile of the maniac. Presently he cornered a boy, and 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 89 
 
 the lad shot him. It was a snap shot from the hip, 
 and all the boy meant to do was to wing his comrade 
 in the right arm. The bullet struck the poor fellow, 
 who had gone crazy, in the right side, landing flat and 
 glancing along a rib, tore a hole in the right side that 
 live emergency bandages went into. 
 
 There was no way to get the man to the rear. Be- 
 hind us were eight miles of ground carpeted with our 
 wounded and dying men, whose cries for water and 
 troubled moaning made the night hideous. 
 
 All night long, the wounded boy lay among us, re- 
 covered from his madness, and never complaining of 
 his wound. 
 
 In the morning, we had to have a messenger to take 
 some reports back to headquarters. This boy begged 
 to be allowed to go. 
 
 I can see him now, leaning against a tree, his face 
 haggard and ghastly beneath the sunburn, his eyes 
 burning with fever as he pleaded with the Captain. 
 
 "I can't go on with the boys. Let me take it back. 
 It'll save you a whole man, and you need them." 
 
 The Captain's lips were quivering. He swallowed 
 hard before he spoke. 
 
 "All right, old man, and good luck to you." The 
 papers were passed over and we saw the poor devil 
 pass out of sight among the trees. 
 
 The message was delivered. 
 
 Eight miles that boy walked, a hole in his right 
 side you could put both fists into. 
 
 Need I add, that he died before they could give him 
 attention. 
 
 My mind is a reel of thousands of just such scenes. 
 So is that of every lad who went over. And that's why 
 we don't like to think or talk about the war. We can't 
 forget those splendid fellows still over there. 
 
90 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Private Charles C. Weise 
 
 Born in Toronto, Canada. Served in the United States 
 Army 27 years. Service in Spanish War, First Island Insur- 
 rection, China and Mexico. Overseas February, 1918, with 
 Coast Artillery. Made dispatch rider. Wounded again and 
 again. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I was born in Toronto, Canada, and came to the 
 United States as soon as I could. Without a trade, 
 the army seemed to offer about the best berth at the 
 time, so I enlisted. I like the life, and after twenty- 
 seven years with "our colors," you still see me with my 
 uniform on. 
 
 In the war with Spain, I missed out on Cuba, be- 
 cause my regiment, the Twenty-first Infanty, sailed for 
 the Philippines on May 4, 1898. We had hot fighting, 
 and mean fighting over there. And we were still row- 
 ing it with our "little brown brothers," when the 
 Chinks started something, and to China we went. 
 
 Believe me, Brother, there was a real fight in 
 China, and many's the time the whole expedition came 
 mighty close to disaster. I had my first real close, 
 honest-to-God acquaintance with German soldiers 
 then, and ever since, ached to get one over my sights. 
 
 In China, I was with the Fifth Field Artillery. 
 Folks most generally know it as Riley's Battery. And 
 you never had no cause to be ashamed of us. 
 
 Our men stood up over there. We had about the 
 best there was along. Marines, and the Ninth In- 
 fantry, our battery, and some other good fighters. 
 
ECHOES F ROM OVER THERE 91 
 
 I met a Schenectady man on that campaign by the 
 name of Duncan Juno. Let me tell you he was just 
 about the best soldier I ever knew in my life. Brave, 
 and cool, and handsome, and knowing the soldiering 
 game. I reckon if he had lived, you'd heard of him 
 in France. But he "went west" along after the Mexi- 
 can campaign, where they chewed him up considerable. 
 
 I enlisted in the coast artillery, having just been dis- 
 charged, when the United States made up its mind to 
 take a hand in Europe. When I arrived in France 
 in February, 1918, they made me a dispatch rider. 
 
 That's one of the best jobs in the war. You are in 
 the war all the time. You hear all the rumors at the 
 rear, and see all the war at the front. 
 
 Every little while, the fellows doing the fighting get 
 tired of shooting up each other and want to hang out 
 their wash or do some chores, so then they turn loose 
 on the roads and areas in the rear. Dispatch riders, 
 they just naturally practice sharpshooting on, with the 
 biggest guns they have. 
 
 When the boys started after the Germans up at St. 
 Mihiel, I was carrying dispatches on my motorcycle 
 from Headquarters to the front. The road was filled 
 with holes where the heavies had torn things up. It 
 was greasy from the rain, and it was under H. E. and 
 shrapnel fire. Some interesting, that ride was. 
 
 I was making bets with myself all the way up, and 
 had won a year's pay from myself, when smash ! — 
 
 I came to in the ditch. My face was all sticky. I 
 went to rub the mud away with a hand, but it was 
 blood. 
 
 For a moment I felt queer, then braced up and set 
 to exploring. What I found cheered me greatly. My 
 wound was more ornamental than useful to the Huns. 
 A shrapnel splinter had sliced open my forehead, but 
 some mud and my emergency bandage fixed that up. 
 But the darned old machine was junk. No "emergency" 
 would fix that. 
 
 I was a long way from anywhere, with some place 
 important to go. 
 
92 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Well, the hoofing was good, so I hit the trail. It 
 was slow but certain, and I had a better chance to 
 duck the shell. As I approached the front, it got some 
 unhealthy. The Germans had been putting over gas, 
 and were pounding away with everything they had, 
 along a stretch of country about two kilometers from 
 my destination. I hung out in a crater for two hours, 
 then hustled along and turned in my dispatches. 
 
 They do a powerful lot of writing in the army, for 
 men who are busy fighting, and they had more stuff 
 to go back to G. H. Q. They produced a new motor 
 cycle from a dug-out, and sent me on my way. It 
 wasn't so bad going back, at first, but I guess the Huns 
 must have thought about me presently, for they began 
 gunning for me with big ones as I drew near Verdun. 
 
 I figured that having got it once that day, I was 
 immune. But I guessed wrong. A big one blew up 
 at the side of the road. One piece of shell sliced off 
 the handle bar, and I got a bullet in my left leg, but the 
 machine was still running, never skipped at all, so I 
 sat tight and slid into G. H. 0. 
 
 They gave me a few days' rest after that, while the 
 doctors fussed around with me, and the Red Cross sup- 
 plied me with smoking. 
 
 Luck was against me. No more had I returned to 
 duty, when I had both hands and forearms burnt with 
 mustard gas. The scars of that will stay with me all 
 the rest of my life. If ever a Hun wants to shake 
 hands with me, I reckon I'll see those marks, and not 
 forget his dirty tricks. 
 
 You see, after I was burned with the gas and they 
 had me in the hospital, along came some German planes 
 and bombed the hospital, blowing the roof and the 
 sides out. Those of us who survived that, they tried 
 to machine gun. 
 
 A Red Cross nurse got it there. And I tell you, 
 that hurts a fighting man. 
 
 Well, the army people figured what was left of us 
 they'd take good care of, so they shipped us clear back 
 to a small city, either it was in Champagne or was 
 
ECHOES F ROM OVER THERE 93 
 
 called Champagne. I don't recall, and it doesn't 
 matter. 
 
 We weren't any more than tucked away in bed, be- 
 fore the Hun planes hunted us up and bombed us 
 again. Nearly every one in the hospital was killed. 
 
 When I was finally returned to duty, you can figure 
 it out for yourself, I was some sore on the Hun, and 
 had a hell of a grudge against his fliers. 
 
 My first job was to take Lieutenant Hatton, of the 
 Forty-fourth Artillery, up to the front. I had him in 
 a side car and we had just got nicely started, when 
 those birds of ill omen turned up again, and flying 
 low, machine-gunned us, wounding the Lieutenant 
 twice, though I escaped unhurt. 
 
 That settled me with the dispatcher business. I 
 reckoned that being a regular and a fighting man, I was 
 entitled to kill a few Huns on my own account, so I 
 hunted up the General and told him so. 
 
 He agreed with me. They gave me an eight-inch 
 howitzer to do it with. We were in position near 
 Dannemaire, about four kilos from the Swiss border. 
 The Germans put our position under heavy shell fire, 
 and socked some gas shell along with the others. 
 
 When they figured we were all dead or in our holes, 
 they came goose-stepping out in columns to finish the 
 job. 
 
 I was just waiting for that. Had been hanging 
 around the old howitzer all the time, and I can shoot 
 one of those guns like a marine does a rifle. Just as 
 I was about to heave on the lanyard, a shell burst on 
 one of our posts and I saw sixteen of our boys smashed 
 to nothing. 
 
 I sure did lay that old howitzer on the target with a 
 vengeance. And when she began to dribble death, I 
 had her coughing like a machine gun. 
 
 They said I broke up the attack myself, and they 
 gave me a citation. 
 
 Well, that's nice ; but I wasn't thinking about any- 
 
94 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 thing but that Red Cross nurse they'd killed back there 
 in our hospital, and the boys I saw killed as I put my 
 hand to the gun. 
 
 Some one said to me the other day: "I suppose 
 these young veterans of ours must look very amusing 
 to you." 
 
 "Amusing to me, sir,'' I replied. "I've been breaking 
 my neck to keep step with 'em and live up to the ex- 
 ample they set." 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 95 
 
 AMERICAN LEGION 
 
 Headquarters Temporary Committee 
 
 19 West 44th Street 
 New York City 
 
 May 15, 1919. 
 Soldier's Publishing Company, 
 1482 Broadway, N. Y. C. 
 
 Gentlemen : 
 
 Thank you for your letter. It is a great satisfaction 
 to hear what a number of young men have spoken 
 concerning my father. There is no question but that 
 the war work did them good. The Americanizing 
 and democratizing effective in the service was notice- 
 able throughout. This is not simply my own indi- 
 vidual observation but has been borne out by countless 
 men whom I have met during the last month and a 
 half. They all tell the same thing, that the love of 
 the men for their country has been deepened, that 
 their sense of real democracy has been sharpened and 
 steadied and that insofar as any possible bad effect 
 goes, the men are more than ever ready and determined 
 to see order and fair play for all. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 TR:DH Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
PRIVATE ROY MILLER 
 
 
EC HOES FROM OVER THERE 97 
 
 V. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Private Roy Miller 
 
 Born in Texas. Enlisted Fort Sam Houston, Texas, May 
 17, 1917. Overseas June, 1917. In action with the First Divi- 
 sion at Chateau Thierry, Soissons, etc. Gassed. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I enlisted at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, on May 17th, 
 1917. I stayed here until June 19th when we started 
 preparations to leave for France. We finally left on 
 June 26th on board the "Pastories." 
 
 When we were out at sea a few days, we sighted a 
 submarine and destroyed it before it got a chance to 
 do any work. 
 
 Landing safely at St. Nazaire on July 12th, 1917, 
 we trained there for about two months and then 
 were sent to Valdahon, France. 
 
 Here we remained until October 27th, and went into 
 action on the 29th. This was at the Somerville sec- 
 tor, ten kilos northwest of Nancy. This was a quiet 
 sector, used as a try-out, to see how we would act on 
 the battlefield. 
 
 We were here for six weeks, doing very little fight- 
 ing, never making any attacks. We remained here 
 from October 29th until December 15th, when we 
 were sent to the Alsace-Lorraine front. Here we made 
 four big drives, and the division captured thousands of 
 prisoners. 
 
 We left this front on March 27th, and got to the 
 Somme front on April 5th. I was then a gunner on a 
 three-inch field piece, and was sent for duty to the 
 second line trenches. On Sunday morning, April 7th, 
 a little before daybreak, a German tank came "over 
 
98 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 the top" and I fired three shots at it, and the second 
 shot tore it to pieces. 
 
 Sent from the Somme front to Verdun on May 
 18th. On the 21st of the same month, we delivered a 
 barrage, and captured 800 prisoners on that one night. 
 We then went to Chateau-Thierry on June 9th to 
 take up the position that the French had held, and 
 were unable to hold any longer. 
 
 On June 11th, I was gassed with mustard gas at 
 Chateau-Thierry. I was burned all over, and all my 
 hair came off ; I was bald, smooth. 
 
 It was ten days before I could be taken to a hos- 
 pital for treatment, and therefore lay in a dug-out 
 twenty-four feet deep, covered with lard, to keep me 
 from burning. On June 28th I received two shots in 
 my legs, and was completely paralyzed. I was taken 
 back of the lines to a field hospital for treatment. 
 
 On July 4th, my ear drum (left ear) was broken by 
 shell concussion, and I cannot hear through it since. 
 
 I was then sent to the Argonne, where I stayed for 
 three days, and then had to be sent to a hospital on 
 account of my feet, being broken. They had been in 
 this condition before, due to wading in so much water, 
 and being exposed to all the mud and slush for such 
 a length of time, without shoes, only rubber boots. 
 
 I was kept in the hospital from July 12th to De- 
 cember 28th, and sailed from St. Nazaire back to the 
 good old U. S. A. 
 
 It was a trip of twelve days and we landed at New- 
 port News on January 9th, from where I was sent to 
 Richmond, Va., and then to Camp Meade, Md. I was 
 honorably discharged on February 28th. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 99 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Sergeant Spiras Thomas 
 
 Bom in Greece, February, 1888. Enlisted in 69th, N. Y '., 
 April 3, 1916. Rainbow Division. Service overseas Cham- 
 pagne, Chateau-Thierry Sector, St. Mihiel and Argonne For- 
 est. Awarded D. S. C. and Croix de Guerre. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Born in Greece on February 12th, 1888. Enlisted 
 in the U. S. Army on April 3rd, 1916, in New York 
 City. Was sent to Camp Whitman, and then to a camp 
 in Texas, and later, back to New York. 
 
 On October 26th, 1917, left for overseas on board 
 the "Tasconia." Not much excitement going over, 
 and after a trip of two weeks, landed at Liverpool. 
 From there we went to Southampton, and then to 
 France on November 10th. 
 
 We went to a training camp, and after six weeks 
 of training, we went to the Lorraine sector. We re- 
 mained here for three weeks, and were then relieved 
 by another battalion, and we then went to the Baccarat 
 sector. We were in the trenches about three weeks. 
 We left here on June 21st. 
 
 On July 14th, we got to the Champagne sector. 
 There was heavy fighting here, and we were instructed 
 by our commander to fight to the end. The Kaiser 
 watched this offensive. The enemy started bombard- 
 ing about twelve o'clock, and kept it up continually 
 for eleven hours. They tried to get through several 
 times, but the Americans and French held the lines, 
 until finally the Boche stopped. There were heavy 
 losses, and many prisoners taken by us. 
 
100 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Three days later, we went to Chateau-Thierry, 
 about July 26th. We were ordered to relieve the 
 French, and on the 27th, we started to chase the Huns. 
 The next day we advanced eight kilometers (5 miles). 
 We took a strong point fortified by the Germans, with 
 a lot of machine guns. 
 
 We kept on going, four days, five, until the eighth 
 day, when we were relieved by the First Division, 
 which was in reserve for a week. From there we went 
 for a rest, and stopped about twelve kilos back from 
 Chateau-Thierry. We received twenty-four-hour 
 passes to visit Paris. Some of the boys took forty- 
 eight hours off, and were therefore A.W.O.L., and 
 when they returned the regiment had moved, but they 
 caught up later. 
 
 We were then ordered to go to the St. Mihiel sec- 
 tor. We hiked day and night until we got there. The 
 drive started on September 11th. There was a con- 
 siderable loss. We were relieved and went to the 
 Argonne forest. This was about the 10th or 11th 
 of October. We stayed in reserve behind the lines. 
 On October 14th, we started an attack, and advanced 
 about a mile and a half. In the course of a few days 
 fighting, the casualties became so great, that the offi- 
 cers of my company were included in the number, and 
 I, therefore, took command of the company. I led the 
 advance, until relieved by the second battalion. 
 
 For this I was awarded a D. S. C. by General Flag- 
 ler, at Zin Zin, Germany, on December 23rd, 1918. 
 
 W 7 e then went to a small sector, which we held for 
 two weeks, until relieved by the Marines. 
 
 When the Marines came, the barrage was so thick, 
 that the enemy had to run or become prisoners, mak- 
 ing this the easiest advance at St. Mihiel. 
 
 On October 1st, we were ordered to leave, and hiked 
 about fifteen kilos. On November 5th, we went "over 
 the top" again, and the first day it was coining pretty 
 fast. The next day, the Third Battalion went on. The 
 third day, we were relieved by the French, and then 
 we hiked back to Byszancy. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 101 
 
 It was then we heard that the armistice was signed. 
 
 The next day we hiked to Landres-Et-St. George, 
 stayed there three days and were then ordered to go 
 to Germany with the Army of Occupation. I stayed 
 there until March 21st, 1919, when I returned to 
 the U. S. A. 
 
 On March 23rd, 1918, was awarded a Croix-de- 
 Guerre by a French General for bravery. 
 
PRIVATE IRVING ABRAHAMS 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 103 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Private Irving Abrahams 
 
 Born in New York City, still resides there. Entered Na- 
 tional Army September 17, 1917. Overseas October, 1917. 
 Assigned Company B, 23rd Infantry, Regulars. Fought at 
 Chateau-Thierry salient and was wounded July 18, 1918. 
 Returned to duty and gassed in the Argonne. Returned to 
 duty and zvounded again near Verdun and sent back to United 
 States for discharge. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I believe I was one of the first National Army men 
 to fight, and fall wounded in France. And in that 
 record I take a just measure of pride. While the 
 War was in its first months I stayed at work, for the 
 family needed my help ; yet when I was drafted and 
 arrangements had been made for the care of my 
 people, I was glad to put on the uniform of my coun- 
 try. 
 
 Army training and life really represented a great 
 opportunity to me. From the time I was a little boy, 
 I had worked hard and, through necessity, missed the 
 athletic training that gives most American boys their 
 good health. 
 
 My training was short at Upton and Camp Green, 
 for within thirty days after I first joined the colors, I 
 was on my way to France, the land of my dreams. 
 
 We landed at Brest and I quickly joined my regi- 
 ment, the Twenty-third Infantry. I soon found I was 
 among fighting men ; one of a famous regiment whose 
 pride in themselves and their regiment was an inspira- 
 tion to me. 
 
 They gave me the training there I had missed at 
 home. My stomach flattened out, and my chest broad- 
 ened until I scarcely knew myself. 
 
104 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 The winter months passed quickly, and in June and 
 July the world heard from the Twenty-third Infantry. 
 
 The fighting of the 18th of July, stands out in my 
 memory for that was the day I received my first 
 wound. 
 
 There was a river my outfit had to cross. Some of 
 us swam the river under artillery and machine gun 
 fire to get into position along the bank where we could 
 pick off the machine gunners, and so make it easier for 
 the rest of our men to get over. 
 
 No matter how hard they shell you, it does not eat 
 up the men like bursts of machine gun fire or gas. 
 
 That swim across the river gave us a jolt in the 
 nerve, all right. 
 
 Dripping with water, I hauled myself up the bank, 
 and crouching down in some cover, soon had my rifle 
 going. The snap of the shots, and the acrid smell of 
 the burning powder quieted my nervousness. 
 
 Other men had got across, and they, too, were "firing 
 at will." We were not merely making a racket, but 
 driving each shot home and making the nests un- 
 healthy for the Jerries. 
 
 The Germans did not just take it. Dropping their 
 fire at the farther bank, they crossed fire at us fellows 
 along the bank. 
 
 They got me, too, almost at the first of it, with a 
 machine gun bullet through the leg. 
 
 You see I was comparatively new to the shooting 
 game, and while I got my head and body covered all 
 right, I did what so many beginners do in shooting. 
 Instead of keeping my feet on the ground, I stuck them 
 up, unconsciously, and Jerry simply could not miss the 
 target. 
 
 I dropped down the bank further, after I was hit, 
 adjusted my emergency bandage, stopping the loss of 
 blood, and then crawled back to my position to get 
 my revenge. 
 
 In the meantime, while the machine gun fire had 
 been diverted to our bank, more of the regiment had 
 crossed the river. Our fire was growing, and as is apt 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 105 
 
 to be the case when casualties increase under well di- 
 rected fire, the Germans growing restive and nervous, 
 exposed themselves, unintentionally. 
 
 I had a fine shot at one of them who was at a ma- 
 chine gun. They had shot me through the leg, and I 
 thought of the old Mosaic law, "An eye for an eye and 
 a tooth for a tooth." I could not get a shot at a leg, 
 so I took a hand. 
 
 Two men I got that way, one after another, and the 
 machine gun stuttered to a stop. I had forgotten all 
 about my wounded leg, and when some time later our 
 line rushed forward, I tried to go along with them, but 
 the leg would not let me. 
 
 Our stretcher bearers were right on hand, ignoring 
 the enemy's fire, though it accounted for many of 
 them. They picked me up, fixed up my wound again, 
 and got me back across the river to a dressing station. 
 
 Those fellows deserve a good word and a lot of 
 gratitude. For I want to tell you, if it was not for the 
 stretcher bearers who went right out and got our boys 
 and brought them to the dressing stations, there would 
 be more of us sleeping in France than there are. 
 
 In forty-five days, my wound had healed and I was 
 able to rejoin my regiment. In my old company I felt 
 like a stranger, for so many of the old crowd had been 
 killed in the bitter fighting at the time I got mine. Re- 
 placements had come, however. The ranks were full. 
 You know, no matter how many men are killed, the 
 regiment does not die. 
 
 We were presently fighting in the Argonne Forest. 
 A gas mask was not much protection, for it was al- 
 ways getting torn off in the woods, and the Germans, 
 knowing it, treated us liberally to gas. 
 
 I got a fine dose of mustard gas, and back to the 
 hospital I went again. Despite all the pain, those were 
 happy, glorious days. 
 
 The Red Cross, the Hebrew Relief Service, and the 
 Salvation Army did all they could to make life endur- 
 able for us. But the days had their dark side, too. 
 So many of the fellows "went west." They went 
 
106 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 bravely, too, without a murmur, smiling to the last, 
 thinking not at all of themselves, but of their folks at 
 home, and the boys still up at the front. 
 
 Presently, I was able to return to duty and once 
 moie found myself among strangers. Even the offi- 
 cers were new' to me, for they had suffered as well as 
 the men. 
 
 We were fighting near Verdun, but I saw little of 
 it, for a German H. E. blew up close to me, drenching 
 me with the blood of my comrades, and wounding me 
 severely. , 
 
 I was in a Paris hospital when the armistice was 
 signed, and believe me, I was some happy. I think 
 no one can say I was yellow because I felt relieved at 
 not having to go back into that hell at the front again, 
 for the record of the regiment and the Division gives 
 the answer to that. 
 
 I don't really feel that my story is worth the telling, 
 for I came back. But if, from what I have written of 
 my own experiences, people can gather an idea of what 
 those who died in France went through before their 
 great moment, in their day of glory, then I shall be 
 happy. 
 
 We left Brest for the good old U. S. A. January 10, 
 1919, on the "Canada" and had a fine trip. 'They cer- 
 tainly did everything in the world to make us com- 
 fortable and we needed no help to be happy. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 107 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Charles A. Pettit 
 
 Former automobile racing champion of Texas, bom in 
 Winona, Mo., raised in Fannin, Texas. Forty-two months' 
 service zvith the British and American armies. Wounded 28 
 times. Lost his leg while with A. E. F. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Yes, I joined the British Army at the very begin- 
 ning of the muss in Europe. Just naturally had to go 
 and help out, for I never did like the Germans. And 
 out in Missouri they raise he-men with red blood in 
 them. Then, as I said, I grew up in Texas. 
 
 Texas ain't no nursery for white feathers. 
 
 We got the kind of citizens down there "Teddy" 
 was always talking to, and quite a tolerable amount 
 of us went along to Cuba with him and give a good ac- 
 count of ourselves. 
 
 I had some good training with the British, and I 
 seen all the red blooded men in the world, I guess. I 
 was at Gallipoli when the Australians was there. They 
 sure did make me feel like I was with home folks. 
 They look like us, measure up about our size, and 
 shoot like we do. 
 
 When the United States jumped in, hat in the ring, 
 and a gun in each hand, the English turned me loose 
 so I could go with the Americans. And I went and 
 done it, in a hurry ; joined right up with the Rainbows, 
 and I made no mistake. 
 
 They did not measure up as tall as the Australians, 
 and a Texan or an Australian could shoot rings around 
 them with his left hand — but they had spunk. Proud ! 
 Well, say, the Rainbows was some proud ! I knew 
 they'd fight like bear cats, for when you get a young 
 American bank clerk, insurance agent, druggist or 
 
108 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 what not, and fill him full of small town jazz, that the 
 "boosters" clubs turn out, and then put him in a county 
 convention, or a firemen's fair, or a militia regiment, 
 alongside of another bunch of boosters from Bing- 
 hamton or Dallas — say ! He's going to keep the lime- 
 light burning on his home town, if he has to supply the 
 fuel himself. 
 
 Well, there's the Rainbows for you. The minute the 
 bunch was off duty, they held a high conclave of all 
 the boss boosters of the country. I felt at home there, 
 too. For I'm a Texas booster myself. You have to 
 show the man from Missouri, but the guy from Texas 
 will do the showing himself. 
 
 We knew why the French and English didn't win 
 the War. 
 
 They was waiting for us. We was sure of it, and 
 that's the way we went over. 
 
 Now don't get the idea we was a passel of conceited, 
 young, small town boys. We knew we had a man's 
 job cut out for us, but we knew we was the men who 
 belonged on the job. 
 
 The fellows who trained us, took out the frills and 
 put on the polished steel finish. 
 
 Because I could drive anything that had a engine in 
 it, they stuck me in Company E, One Hundred and 
 Seventeenth Supply Train, O. M. C, attached to the 
 Forty-second Division, the Rainbows. 
 
 We went to France ; and while the line got ready 
 for the big job, learned all the little tricks of the Hun, 
 and worked up a few new degrees of their own, I 
 rustled the chow for the bunch. 
 
 Fighting is a hungry job, and when the Rainbows 
 started in they kept going. Here today and gone to- 
 morrow, to put in a wallop somewhere else. 
 
 The big refrigeration station of our army was at 
 Gavres, France. Ed load up there and start out to 
 find the men. It is part of this war game to keep the 
 men on the line without food and water, and it's an- 
 other part of it to get the food and water to them. 
 
 I was on the get-it-to-them end, and no matter how 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 109 
 
 thick it got in France, it was tame compared with 
 what we went through when I was at Gallipoli — ex- 
 cept for the gas. The Turks may be heathen, but they 
 was too much gentlemen to use gas. I got some re- 
 spect for them. But a German just naturally will do 
 anything. 
 
 When our men went in at the Soissons row, I was on 
 a trip to them with plunder — canned tomatoes, meat, 
 and so on. Their line was up along the Ourcq River 
 about July 27th, when they were trying to get across, 
 and the bloody froth of the fight blew back in my face 
 as I plowed along to the front. 
 
 God, how they punished the Rainbows that day ! 
 
 Half a dozen times I was warned to turn back, but 
 the sight of our men,— the men of my division, — flood- 
 ing past me broken wrecks; and the stories they told 
 of the line held up ; sent me on. The wounded said 
 the men up at the front were hungry and dry. 
 
 I knew no damned river would stop them, once they 
 had their chow and wet their lips on some of those 
 Maryland packed tomatoes. 
 
 So I went ahead. 
 
 They had been nearly forty-eight hours with nothing 
 to eat when I caught them. Scattered among the trees, 
 with their machine guns chattering over the Ourcq, its 
 current choked with Rainbow dead, the men were lick- 
 ing their wounds like a pack of cougar hounds that 
 had been all clawed up and had not got their beast, 
 though they had it up a tree and were waiting to re- 
 new the fight. 
 
 What do I care that the Huns got me and got me 
 good on the way back ? Damn them ! 
 
 The Rainbows had crossed the Ourcq. 
 
PRIVATE ALBERT MARKS 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 111 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Private Albert Marks 
 
 Born at Neivport, R. I., February 5, 1896. Enlisted in 
 69th, Nezv York, National Guard, July 17, 1917. Overseas 
 September, 1917 . Seriously wounded in Champagne sector 
 and reported dead. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I was born at Newport, R. L, on February 5, 1896. 
 Enlisted at the Old Sixty-ninth Armory on July 17, 
 1917. Happened to be the first and only Jew to sign 
 tip with this company. For this I was nicknamed 
 'Tatty Irish," the Fighting Irish Jew. 
 
 I landed at Brest on September 12, 1917, with the 
 "'Fighting Irish." We trained for three months with 
 rifles and bombs, and after that had another month's 
 training with gas masks. 
 
 On February 26th, we were put in the front line 
 trenches in the Lorraine sector. This is where our 
 regiment got the first taste of war. 
 
 We lost thirty-eight men in a dugout, including one 
 officer, Lieutenant Norman. Four men were trying to 
 pull him out, and had him up to the knees, when an- 
 other shell came and buried him and several other men. 
 His last words were, "Don't worry, boys, we'll all be 
 out." We dug for ten hours straight trying to get 
 these men out. We did not use picks and shovels, for 
 we didn't have them, but used helmets and drinking 
 cups. 
 
 A pioneer officer told us three times to get up and 
 leave it alone, but we wanted to get our buddies out. 
 I, personally, after being there for ten hours, went and 
 got a pick and shovel, then a shell came and buried 
 the place again. 
 
112 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 We never got that officer, and that was, no doubt, his 
 death. 
 
 Then the third battalion went in, and were in five 
 hours when the Germans sent over a gas barrage. Out 
 of 500 men, eight were not gassed. All the rest, 492, 
 were. I, at the time, was delivering a message to 
 Major Donovan, and got a whiff of the stuff and was 
 sent back to a hospital. 
 
 I caught up with my regiment at Ansiville, and from 
 there we went to Baccarat where we were finally re- 
 lieved by the Seventy-seventh Division. 
 
 This was June 28th, and we started on a hike to 
 the Champagne front. 
 
 I carried my mail from home in one of my pockets, 
 and during this hike I lost a few letters. Some of 
 these were picked up by one of my officers, and some 
 by a young lad in my own division. This youth was 
 later hit, and fell unconscious. 
 
 A French sergeant happened to pick him up, and 
 was with him till he died. His last word was, 
 "Mother." This French sergeant then wrote back to 
 my folks (having taken the mail from the dead boy's 
 pockets) stating that I died and my last word was 
 "Mother," and he thought it was his duty to fight for 
 my revenge. 
 
 He told my people that he had buried me with three 
 other boys, and even told them where he buried me. 
 When my mother got this letter, she also received my 
 insurance and back allotment from Washington. Two 
 weeks later, when just about to go into mourning for 
 me, she received word from me, explaining just how 
 and where I was. I was wounded at the time. 
 
 Well, we got to the Champagne front on July 2nd. 
 On July 14th, we were doing barb-wire detail with the 
 French from four o'clock until eight o'clock (four 
 hours), and at ten minutes to twelve that night we 
 were ordered to get down into the trench for control 
 of No Man's Land. We stayed there four hours, help- 
 ing the French hold the front line. At four o'clock 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 113 
 
 the next morning, we were told to go back to where 
 the rest of the regiment was located. 
 
 Lieutenant Otto was at the lead, and he looked up 
 in the communicating trench and saw the shell were 
 flying too heavy, so he told us to get back. 
 
 As I turned around, a shell broke even with my hips. 
 A few pieces of shrapnel were in my head, luckily it 
 did not hit me in the temple I was also hit in the arm. 
 The concussion of another shell threw Sergeant Jimmy 
 Hamilton two feet into the air. He came down right 
 on my back, so hard, that I thought I was hit again 
 and thought I was broken in two. 
 
 I picked Jimmy Hamilton up with one arm, the best 
 way I could, and pulled him into a dugout, thinking 
 he was still alive, but a French doctor pronounced him 
 dead. 
 
 I stayed there from 4 o'clock till 8 :30. Three times 
 I was ordered to go back to a first-aid dressing station 
 for treatment, but refused. I was resolved to avenge 
 myself. 
 
 At 8 o'clock the Germans came over, and the first 
 German that came over the trench, I killed just as he 
 came over. I then went to a hospital to have my 
 wounds treated, and the doctors called it a compound 
 fracture of the right shoulder and upper right arm. 
 I was in Chaumont, A. E. F. headquarters, and from 
 there went to Savenay, Base Hospital No. 8. This is 
 the Post Graduate Hospital, of New York City, and 
 here when a man is slightly wounded, he goes back to 
 the front line trenches ; and when seriously wounded, 
 he goes back to the "States." 
 
 Being seriously wounded, I was sent back, and 
 landed at Newport News, Va., on September 2, 1918. 
 When I got back, I immediately wired home. The 
 folks thought that I was shell shocked, and everything 
 else that goes with it, but when I telegraphed home for 
 money, my father was sure that I was very sane. 
 
SERGEANT JOSEPH MORINI 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 115 
 
 X. 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Sergeant Morini 
 
 Born in Catania, Italy. Enlisted in Company D, 103rd In- 
 fantry, of the 26th Division, the Yankees. Overseas 1917. 
 Seicheprey, Chateau-Thierry salient. Wounded taking of 
 Hill 204. Gassed. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 New England was my part of the country, and Bos- 
 ton my home. If not of the old Yankee stock by birth, 
 I was by education and inclination. It didn't take the 
 Mayflower to make an American out of me. 
 
 When America declared war, I realized the time had 
 come for me to make good on my Americanism, so I 
 enlisted on May 16th, 1917. My training began at 
 Camp Devens where they did their level best to make 
 soldiers out of us. 
 
 It was hard for us to learn the habit of implicit and 
 instant obedience, for by nature I was, and so were 
 most of the boys, inclined to go it alone. 
 
 We'd heard so much about the German soldiers be- 
 ing stupid cattle, who could drill but not think, that 
 we most generally held to the idea that all we needed 
 to become soldiers was to take a gun, stuff it full of 
 cartridges, and blaze away. Each one of us was go- 
 ing to win the war. 
 
 But we found out, that if we were going to keep out 
 of each other's way and get our grub in time, we had 
 to learn to march. That is, we were beginning to 
 find out from our own experiences that we didn't 
 know much about the war game and the soldiering 
 business, and that it was up to us to lend an attentive 
 ear to those who could tell us. 
 
116 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 We began to make progress from then on, and after 
 a while the officers addressed themselves to our intel- 
 ligence and spirit of go it alone, for they were not try- 
 ing to kill that, but teach us how to employ it best. 
 The idea was, that we should be intelligently brave 
 at a time when every mother's son of us would be at 
 heart scared to death. 
 
 Camp Devens did that for us and did it not only 
 for war but for peace. 
 
 Then we went overseas as the Yankee Division. 
 
 More training in France, and then we took over a 
 part of the front near a place you may have heard of 
 by the name of Seicheprey. The Twenty-sixth Divi- 
 sion will never forget that place, and by the same 
 token, the Germans won't either. 
 
 We made them pay in the fight at St. Mihiel for 
 the good time they gave us at Seicheprey. 
 
 That spring in France, was a hectic period, and as 
 spring waned into summer, things grew interesting and 
 we saw the fighting we had come for. , 
 
 Between May 31st, when the motorized Seventh 
 Machine Gun Battalion of the First Division blazed 1 
 into action in support of the French Colonials who 
 were holding the Marne at Chateau-Thierry, and the 
 18th of July, the Twenty-sixth had come up from its 
 training area, had taken over the Belleau Wood sector. 
 
 We knew, of course, our boys were winning, but 
 when we saw the fields covered with our dead, and as 
 we deployed our lines in the woods and among ruined 
 houses and found more and more of our men, we 
 wondered, with so many of them killed, who had lived 
 to defeat the Boche. 
 
 I'll tell you now and tell you honest, the sight of all 
 those boys killed made us pretty sick. You could smell 
 the dead for miles. The Camp Devens training stif- 
 fened us up and we were ready to do our duty, but we 
 were not crazy for the job. 
 
 I suppose you people who read this will think we 
 were not brave. Well, we stuck out and went in when 
 our time came. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 117 
 
 But it sure was some jolt to us to camp out in Bel- 
 leau Wood. 
 
 On the 18th, the left of the Twenty-sixth was 
 thrown forward to maintain contact with troops that 
 had gone ahead. The fight then spread along the 
 whole line. It filled the world. The sky was on fire 
 with it at night, and the roll of the guns never stopped. 
 
 The Twenty-sixth was in it. We had become ac- 
 customed to the companionship of those who had fal- 
 len, and were becoming anxious to prove our own 
 mettle and right to the title of the Yankee Division. 
 
 Some of the men from the First Division were 
 going out and passed us. They laughed at us and 
 jibed us. 
 
 "Who ever saw a dead Yankee?" they chanted. 
 
 There were plenty to be seen before the next night, 
 and a regular officer who happened to pass my com- 
 pany cried out to us : 
 
 "Well done, Twenty-sixth ! You belong." 
 
 The fighting of the 20th and 21st was bitter enough 
 to satisfy even the German appetite for gore. 
 
 Overlooking Chateau-Thierry, a hill pokes its head 
 above the surrounding forest. On the maps the un- 
 imaginative people who make our maps had named it 
 "Hill 204." Our first big job was to take that hill and 
 hold it. 
 
 The air hummed with machine gun bullets with a 
 sound as from the wings of swarms of black flies in 
 the North Woods in July. The bullets bit and stung 
 us and drew our blood. But we were travelling fast. 
 
 The first fire of a machine gun nest on our advanc- 
 ing line was often its last, for our eyes, and minds, and 
 purpose were all centered on the crest of Hill 204. We 
 just rushed ahead regardless of everything, and took 
 it. 
 
 In the last effort to reach the crest of the hill, I saw 
 my Pal and Buddie blown to atoms by a bursting shell, 
 while I went down with a machine gun bullet through 
 my leg. 
 
 The Twenty-sixth went on. The wounded and dead 
 
118 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 were left behind. Those who were lightly wounded, 
 by that I mean, so they could walk or crawl, tried to 
 get back to the dressing station alone. The rest waited 
 for the stretcher bearers and ambulances. 
 
 I had quite a dose of the hospitals and just before 
 I was returned to duty, a blessed fifteen days in Paris. 
 I liked the old town. 
 
 Returning to my regiment, I was gassed just about 
 the first thing and before I was again fit for duty the 
 armistice was signed. 
 
 So you see I did not win the war all myself, but I 
 think I won the right to the name Yankee all right, 
 for I went up that hill, in the face of their machine 
 guns, and tried to catch the Germans with my hands. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 119 
 
 AMERICAN OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE 133 
 Headquarters, American Forces, Sept. 26th, 1918. 
 
 Section A — This morning northwest of Verdun, the 
 First Army attacked the enemy on a front of twenty 
 miles and penetrated his lines to an average depth of 
 seven miles. 
 
 Pennsylvania, Kansas and Missouri troops, serving 
 in Major General Liggett's corps, stormed Varennes. 
 Montbainville, Vauquois and Cheppy, after stubborn 
 resistance. 
 
 Troops of other corps, crossing the Forges Brook, 
 captured the Bois de Forges and wrested from the 
 enemy the towns of Malancourt, Bethincourt, Mont- 
 faucon, Quisy, Nantillois, Septsarges, Dannevoux, and 
 Gercourt-et Dirllaucourt. 
 
 The prisoners thus far reported number over five 
 thousand. 
 
 Pershing. 
 
CORPORAL JOHN H. BENNETT 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 121 
 
 XL 
 
 THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 
 
 THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
 GUARDSMEN 
 
 Corporal John H. Bennet 
 
 Enlisted as a private June 7 , 1916, in the Engineer Corps. 
 Overseas November, 191.7. Wounded at St. Mihiel, returned 
 to duty and wounded again zvhile bridging Meuse River and 
 leg amputated. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I enlisted in the service as a private on June 7, 1916. 
 On November 14, 1917, I was sent across on the 
 George Washington. 
 
 We landed safely and after much shifting around 
 and drilling, we finally moved to the Vosges Moun- 
 tains, and went into action July 15th, 1918. 
 
 After the capture of the town of Frappell, I was 
 attached to the Fifth French Army, doing instruction 
 work. I was gassed at St. Die July 21, and lay on the 
 field eight hours, before I was picked up by a French 
 patrol and carried to a hospital in Geradmire, France. 
 
 August 3rd, I reported to my outfit for duty. We 
 drilled for the St. Mihiel attack that took place on 
 September 12th. At nine o'clock in the morning of 
 September 14th, I received a machine gun bullet in 
 the left shoulder and was carried to a hospital at Toul, 
 where I remained three weeks. 
 
 October 18th, we started a hike back to the Argonne 
 Woods with a pack of ninety pounds on our backs. 
 We hiked for four days and nights. 
 
 October 26, we went over the top about 25 kilo- 
 meters from Verdun. We were in the battle four 
 days, and were then relieved and sent back 23 kilo- 
 meters. The morning of November 1st, we were sent 
 again to the Argonne Woods, and went over the top 
 until the 4th. 
 
122 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 A platoon of 54 men was sent to the Meuse River 
 to build a bridge for the infantry to advance. One 
 lieutenant, three sergeants and fourteen privates were 
 killed. Therefore, as I was corporal, I was left in 
 charge. We were surrounded by a box barrage by the 
 enemy. We put two bridges across, and both were 
 blown down. Finally, as we could not keep a bridge 
 up, we got the infantry across in pontoon boats. 
 
 At nine-thirty that evening, a high explosive shell 
 wounded me in the left leg, and in the right hip also. 
 I lay on the field until four o'clock the next day. Dis- 
 covering that I was losing a lot of blood, I took off 
 my right legging and tied it around my left knee, 
 stopping the flow of blood. At four o'clock I was 
 carried away by a French ambulance. 
 
 There were only eight boys left of the fifty-four I 
 was in charge of. Two were wounded by shrapnel, 
 the rest were killed. 
 
 I was carried to a hospital behind the lines, where I 
 remained five days and was eventually sent to No. 
 68 at Mars. In December, my leg was amputated 
 above the knee. 
 
 March 4th I left Brest on the S. S. America, bound 
 for the good old U. S. A. On March 12th, I was 
 taken to Debarkation Hospital No. 5, Greenhut's, 
 New York. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 123 
 
 "PASSED BY THE CENSOR" 
 
 EXCERPTS FROM LETTERS OF A STAFF 
 
 OFFICER OF THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH 
 
 DIVISION 
 
 A. E. F., 
 
 May 25, 1918. 
 
 We had a rough trip over, but it was great. Sighted 
 a few subs and got a thrill. 
 
 Landed on my birthday, and ever since have been in 
 the midst of an intensely interesting and rapidly de- 
 veloping film of life and action. 
 
 It's so huge, this game. And one is compelled to 
 live right in the immediate present. I've only seen a 
 little, and just that little puts a different angle on my 
 ideas. 
 
 Had a great trip over the Boche lines in a plane and 
 got my first real fire from anti-aircraft and machine 
 guns. Fritz didn't get us, but came mighty close. 
 
 Naturally, I can't write all I would like to. It's the 
 most interesting life imaginable, and I'm strangely 
 happy. I lived years in a couple of minutes lately, and 
 surely that intensity is worth while. 
 
 My French is improving, I can patter fairly well 
 now. Never felt better, and am getting lots of exer- 
 cise. I have a great little horse ; I never got my "grey" 
 from the States. Named this new one "Vimy." 
 
 In the evening, we sit around a large dinner table, 
 smoking, and drinking a Scotch and soda or light wine. 
 We talk it all over, the old life and the new, bits of 
 news from home, what might have happened if the 
 war hadn't happened, etc. It's all very absorbing. 
 
 You'll have to excuse the rambling character of this 
 letter, but there's always so much going on right close 
 to me ; too darn close, part of the time. 
 
 Remember how we used to talk over whether I 
 would "get the wind up," or scary? Well, M — , I 
 guess they all do, a bit, for I've talked with lads who 
 
124 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 have been through incredible hell, and they all agree 
 one does feel a little nervous, but "carries on" just the 
 same. I got awfully dry in the throat, when the Boche 
 were shooting at us the other day. Later, while sit- 
 ting in a shop back of the lines, having a bottle of wine 
 with an Englishman, the shelling got quite intimate. 
 I noticed that both of us were somewhat unsteady with 
 the hands. However, you can fight it off — if you can 
 control your imagination. 
 
 August 29, 1918. 
 
 There are many difficulties about correspondence 
 here. First, there is so much of interest that one can't 
 write about, an all wise censor prohibiting. Second, 
 without meaning to, one gets on the personal side too 
 much, and becomes a fearful bore to one's friends. 
 
 At the risk of injecting too much ego, I will say that 
 I'm well and happy, and still have all my arms and 
 legs, very needful in these hectic days. Brother Boche 
 has spared me so far, but hasn't missed by any too 
 wide a margin, I'll tell the world. Certainly no one 
 is bored in our little family. 
 
 One strikes a medium in any sort of life, and I, for 
 the most part, preserve an even tenor of disposition. 
 I have been sublimely happy and distressingly sad ; 
 always fairly busy ; very tired at times ; disgustingly 
 dirty for short periods ; for the most part well fed, and 
 only once cigaretteless. That last was a calamity. The 
 wonderful charm of it all is, its absolute uncertainty, 
 new emotions sounded, — actual work done. 
 
 And a spectacle to watch and participate in that has 
 the Ziegfield Follies, The Great Train Robbery, Bel- 
 levue Hospital, the Slocum disaster, and the San Fran- 
 cisco fire, looking like a nickel side show. 
 
 Sure have seen some doings, — tragic, heroic, and 
 ludicrous. It's a blessing that the human mind can 
 adjust itself so quickly. Why, I've seen lads calmly 
 reading a letter from home, while less than a half mile 
 away the damndest show, I swear reverently, was rag- 
 ing to the tune of Hell's Symphony. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 125 
 
 But, M — , whatever they send us, we double the 
 stakes. And, oh, boy, it's a plenty ! 
 
 Well, one could write forever, and not tell half. 
 
 One thing I must talk about though, and that's our 
 girls over here, nurses, canteen workers, entertainers, 
 etc. They are wonderful. If I ever was inclined to 
 be a sentimentalist, the little I've seen so far has 
 knocked it out of me. But I must say that the forti- 
 tude, courage, devotion, and cheerfulness displayed by 
 our girls under even the most distressing circum- 
 stances, is nothing short of marvellous. They go any 
 place, never seem to get panicky, and believe me, they 
 come fast at times, too. Not the girls, — I mean shrap 
 and heavies. They sure are inspiring. No, no, — not 
 the shrap, — I mean the girls, — Oh, what's the use? 
 
 I'm a lucky lad. Everything so far has finished hap- 
 pily for me, in spite of some very near ones, and a wee 
 bit of gas, just enough to give me a touch of "mal de 
 mer." 
 
 We sure get some good laughs out of letters. One 
 fellow's wife wrote she had sent him a sleeping suit, 
 you know the kind kiddies wear, with closed feet. And 
 none of us with our clothes off at night for two weeks ! 
 
 My brother is over here and I got a great letter from 
 him. It appears that a certain brand of French cham- 
 pagne was a bit too strong for him. Anyway, he got 
 a trifle zig-zag. He was disciplined by being made to 
 don a pair oi blue denim overalls with a large "P" on 
 them and put to work on real estate with a man-sized 
 shovel. 
 
 "You know, Kid," O — wrote jukingly, "they put all 
 of us Princeton men in one company." 
 
 Oh, the intense humanness of it all ; I mean our side, 
 — not the Boche. If this game doesn't bring out the 
 good qualities in a chap, nothing will. I never could 
 be a snob after what I've seen. Often from the ones 
 you least expect it of, brotherly love, helpfulness, cour- 
 age and sacrifice under the toughest conditions. You 
 get so you love every one of your men. 
 
 And the kidding ! It started the day we warped in 
 
126 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 at the dock. The first thing we saw was a big, officious 
 English cop. One of my men, sitting on the anchor, 
 piped up, " 'Ello, Bobbie, I 'opes yer well." The kid- 
 ding never ends. Just a few minutes ago, the outfit 
 induced some slow thinking lad to ask the cook for 
 a piece of porterhouse steak. The boys are great, 
 funnier than the best acts at the Palace. Right now, 
 a lad is singing in a high falsetto : 
 
 "I don't care how they miss me home, 
 If the Germans miss me here." 
 You can't be anything but cheerful with this outfit. 
 
 October 21, 1918. 
 
 It's been a very busy little campaign. Until yester- 
 day when I took a hot shower and luxuriated in fresh 
 linen, I hadn't had my clothes off in three weeks. 
 
 What a succession of strange, exciting, humorous, 
 pathetic, and heroic parts I've sten enacted in this 
 drama of War. It's like another life, for now I see 
 it in retrospect. I'm sitting in a little shack, which was 
 built by the Boche. I'm very cozy in front of a bright 
 fire. There is even a piano, plundered by the Boche 
 from some French chateau. 
 
 The General presides over the little family, still 
 nearly intact, — only one absentee. We laugh and kid, 
 Gene plays snatches from old Broadway shows, but 
 deep underneath we are changed, I'm sure. The re- 
 membrance of dear friends gone, and of frightful 
 sights, can't be dispelled so quickly. 
 
 M — , remember saying that I was coming back? 
 Well, I guess you were right. It looks as if they 
 couldn't get me. Sure have had some close ones ; my 
 horse killed, a bullet through my raincoat, and other 
 narrow escapes. But I guess I'll fool 'em. 
 
 I'm very happy to have been recommended for an 
 immediate promotion in a letter from the General. 
 He wrote lots of things that I really don't deserve, but 
 that, nevertheless, are gratifying to hear. He said that 
 if it were permissable, he would recommend me for a 
 captaincy. It all goes on my record, and I'm glad. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 127 
 
 Don't think this is vainglorious pride. I've seen too 
 much over here to believe in the sham of talk. I'll 
 never put on any lugs over this affair. Too much has 
 been seared into me. 
 
 Certainly, the boys had Brother Boche on the run; 
 it was great to see him draw back. We gave him 
 everything we had, and he's still going. It looks like 
 the beginning of the end. 
 
 I may get a little leave. If so, I will visit my 
 brother, about a hundred miles away. Also, I'll get 
 some new uniforms, for mine are literally in shreds. 
 I had to get issue enlisted men's clothing, as I was 
 breaking out into society in a shameful way. I'd have 
 been arrested if I'd appeared in public. When I got 
 a look at myself in a mirror, I sure had a good laugh. 
 
 One thing I've learned just lately, is to look at 
 trouble in the big perspective. I had that lesson 
 knocked into me when I blundered into a little show 
 with about fifteen men, holding approximately five 
 yards per man, totalling seventy-five yards of front. 
 
 Well, it was hot. A couple of times I was wishing 
 for a Blighty. Things looked dark for quite a while. 
 Then it cleared a little ; we got ahead a bit, — finally it 
 all lulled down. I was thinking what a tough time 
 we'd had and how important we were, when I over- 
 heard the Colonel say, "Today, on the entire four 
 hundred mile front, " 
 
 And I thought what a damn fool I was, thinking I 
 was fighting the whole war on a seventy-five yard 
 front, when the big idea was the four hundred mile 
 front. 
 
 The individual doesn't count in this big game. 
 
 Well, as a moralizer, I'd make a good plumber, so 
 I'll quit the Walt Whitman, Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
 stuff, and pursue the straight narrative. 
 
 I just read a Ring Lardner story and he wrote one 
 line that struck me particularly funny, "There are a 
 lot of bugs over here, and some of them are in khaki." 
 
 Today a nice boy who joined us recently was given 
 three days' leave. He is going to visit some people in 
 
128 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Aix le Bains. He is run ragged trying to borrow a 
 pair of breeches. He is rather a tall, slim lad, fussy 
 about his clothes, and in this particular case, very anxi- 
 ous to make a hit. So far, the best he has been able to 
 borrow is a pair about six sizes too large. Some one 
 just now brought him a pair of overalls. He has fif- 
 teen miles to ride to the nearest railroad station, and 
 his train leaves at four. The poor kid is in a terrible 
 stew, and the bunch stands around kidding him. Some 
 one just suggested that he make a pair of breeches out 
 of his blanket. 
 
 It's a cruel war. 
 
 Our General now is a two star. That means our 
 family will break up. It certainly was fun working 
 with him in the advance, for he's a wonder. The men 
 love him and behind his back, they call him, "Uncle 
 Wit." He sure has been great to me, with the letter 
 he wrote for me. And, really, what I did was nothing, 
 compared to lots of the other fellows. 
 
 I hope you can read this pencil scrawl. I've lost all 
 my letters, fountain-pen, address book, — everything. 
 At one stage of my wanderings, I found myself alone 
 with a bottle of Cologne, a tube of tooth paste, and a 
 can of corned beef. My bedding roll has been lost for 
 weeks. I use my horse blanket and a shawl I acquired 
 somewhere. When the shades of night approach, and 
 the urge of slumber arrives, I just gracefully recline on 
 the floor of my shack, my trench coat buttoned up 
 tightly, my little cap on, and in my hand my trusty 
 stick that I safvaged off a dead Boche officer. They tell 
 me I look very angelic. One lad thought I was dead. 
 It's a great life, I'll tell the world. 
 
 A. E. R, 
 
 December 9, 1918. 
 Life is certainly pleasant here. The sun has been 
 out quite a lot and the country is beautiful. I ride 
 around on my horse or in the General's limousine. 
 The little French kids are playing again and it all 
 makes one very happy. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 129 
 
 We sit around after dinner and play the Victrola, 
 lots of McCormick records and old comic opera scores. 
 It's comfy, a nice open fire, a bunch of good fellows 
 laughing and chatting, and you think how pleasant it is. 
 Then from away in some hidden recess of your mind, 
 you get a thought of some old friend. You picture 
 him as he lies alone in some little patch of forest in 
 the Argonne, or in some small, rude cemetery where 
 French civilians, Boche, soldiers, — French and Ameri- 
 can, — are all buried together. You see the low, white 
 cross with a gas mask and helmet hung on it, and you 
 think of former gatherings when he was along; you 
 remember his laugh and his voice. — 
 
 And it's not just one that comes into your mind, it's 
 lots and lots of them. 
 
 I can't figure out how so many who had more to 
 live for and were much more worthy than I, should 
 have had to pay all. 
 
 So that's how it goes, but for the most part, I'm 
 happy as a king. Life is kind to me, — health, an ador- 
 able mother, and the best of friends. 
 
 New York sure must have gone crazy when hostili- 
 ties were called off. I'll keep the game honest, and 
 say that no one could have been more pleased than I 
 was. The place where we were, on the banks of the 
 Meuse River, was decidedly hot. The night of the 
 tenth, we heard rumors that eleven o'clock the follow- 
 ing morning, all bets would be off. During the night, 
 the Boche lobbed over a few big ones that took away 
 a section of real estate, and the shell weren't any too 
 far from our happy home. The next morning, I had 
 to go out in a side car to a nearby town to get some 
 dope, and the road wasn't the healthiest place in the 
 world. When the Boche were still putting them over 
 at ten-thirty, I began to think maybe Jerry hadn't 
 heard about this armistice stuff. I was a bit worried, 
 I will admit. Then side cars make you uneasy because 
 the noise of the motor drowns the sound of the shell 
 and you can't tell where they're headed. However, 
 
130 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 that really doesn't matter, because you never hear the 
 one that hits you, anyhow. 
 
 I looked at my watch several times, and when at 
 eleven o'clock, the firing ceased, I was sure a happy 
 kid. 
 
 And now it's over. I thank God it is, and you'll be- 
 lieve me, that it's not on account of my own selfish 
 hide. 
 
 But just to think of what it means. No more suffer- 
 ing, no more disorder. 
 
 From now on, the distressing sights are to be cov- 
 ered up; the litter of battle salvaged; and the green 
 slopes, fields and roadsides will be rid of debris. Towns 
 will be rebuilt, and filled with men and women living 
 sanely, pursuing their lives in peaceful tenor. 
 
 You can't get it, unless you've seen the wreck and 
 despair. Broken guns, field pieces, old clothes, clotted 
 bandages, wagons and ambulances shot away, bloody 
 stretchers, dead horses and men, masses of putrefying 
 flesh, — all will be buried and removed from sight. 
 
 In the back areas, whole towns are in ruins, women 
 weeping, little kids, emaciated, with old, pinched faces, 
 wistful, no heart to play. No more of that, thank 
 God. No more injustice, no more fear. 
 
 Why, it's OVER ! 
 
 It had to be. I suppose so long as there is life and 
 ideals, we will have to protect them with as rotten a 
 thing as war, if necessary. But it is rotten. 
 
 I can't realize it's over ! 
 
 We made a long march back over the way we 
 battled through. Now we are in a training area in 
 the south of France, near Chaumont, and it's very 
 pleasant. I am billeted in an awfully comfy room, 
 stove, large French bed, and more tapestries, beads, 
 and pictures of Christ than an altar. 
 
 With my limited French, I induced the old French 
 girl who owns the house to make coffee for me before 
 breakfast. I have a striker, who serves it to me in 
 bed, and then says in a beautiful brogue, "Come on 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 131 
 
 now, out wid ye, it's toime to be goin' to yer break- 
 fast. Faith, an' the Gineral, hisself, is up." 
 
 "In a few minutes," I say sleepily. 
 
 "I will not lave till I see ye start to put yer clothes 
 on," he announces. 
 
 If I flop back on the pillows, he yanks the bed 
 clothes off. He sure does bully me. 
 
 After breakfast I ride around and check up on drill 
 periods, and inspect the stables and quarters. A nice 
 open air life, but I sure would like to stroll into the 
 Biltmore for a cup of tea. 
 
 December 27th, 1918. 
 
 Christmas done come and gone. I'm going to tell 
 you about Christmas in France. 
 
 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through 
 the town, not a creature was stirring, but that's not 
 a bit unusual as this is a particularly quiet town. But 
 seriously, my Christmas consisted of staying in bed 
 and missing breakfast, then taking a long horseback 
 ride through the woods. At one o'clock, we all sat 
 down to a very nice dinner, fine roast turkey and fix- 
 in's, champagne and cordials. We toasted the de- 
 parted ones, the Army and Navy, and a quick return 
 to the U. S. A. 
 
 After dinner we sat around an open fire and smoked, 
 drank liquers, and talked over old Christmases in the 
 States, and wives and girls at home. 
 
 Well, it got just as cheerful as a convention of 
 morgue keepers. Then we put on some nice cheerful 
 records, "I Hear You Calling Me," "Love, Here Is My 
 Heart," "Snowy Breasted Pearl" and "Say Au Revoir, 
 but Not Good-bye." 
 
 About this time, when the gaiety was at its height, 
 some one suggested that we finish off some champagne 
 we were saving for supper. We finished that, and then 
 things began to assume a more seasonable glow. You 
 might say that the carnival spirit was rife. 
 
 A Y. M. C. A. entertainer was to sing at the "Y" 
 in the evening. A girl ! So we sent out Doc H — , the 
 
132 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 vet, to get introduced to the lady and ask her to supper 
 with us in the evening. Doc started, but got side- 
 tracked, returning later, sans girl. In no uncertain 
 language we told Doc just the kind of a guy we thought 
 he was. Doc refused to get sore, saying that he had 
 been insulted by experts. 
 
 Well, to make a long story short, we went to the 
 show, and after one glance at the girl in question, 
 Doc became the most popular man in the party. She 
 was a nice girl, all right, but she had no corner on the 
 beauty market. 
 
 Snow fell during the night, and the next morning, 
 the little village and valley looked like fairyland. The 
 men had a good old fashioned snow ball fight. 
 
 M — , we had quite a big fire in the stable of the 
 chateau the other day. 
 
 The General and family, including yours truly, were 
 at dinner, when an orderly rushed in and announced 
 that the stable was on fire. We tore out and got the 
 horses and saddle tack out. The wind was strong and 
 for a while it looked as though the whole chateau 
 would go. Two companies of infantry arrived and we 
 started a bucket brigade. Then a French fire engine 
 or pump arrived. It was a little two by four with 
 about ten yelling Frenchies dragging it. Maybe they 
 weren't excited. They started to unlimber and fight 
 over who was to hold the nozzle. They never had 
 a look in, for a big, burly private stepped up and 
 settled that war. He was going to run that fire. 
 
 We worked all night and put out the fire. The men 
 sure did enjoy it. They hadn't had any excitement 
 since the armistice was signed. It was a scream. 
 
 The little French cure hopped up and down, yelling 
 encouragement and advice. It couldn't have been 
 otherwise ; he got it full in the map. It was like a 
 Charlie Chaplin film, any time an excited Frenchie 
 got in the way, he got a wetting down. 
 
 The damage was slight, and "a good time was had 
 bv all." 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 133 
 
 The days pass fairly quickly with manouvers, tacti- 
 cal exercise, and training. I ride a great deal. 
 
 My room is very comfortable, with a dinky little 
 stove that I drape myself over. My bed is a big, high 
 boy. If I ever fall out, it's good for a broken arm or 
 leg. 
 
 I'm getting to be quite a parley-vous artist. People 
 who speak good French say I'm very funny. I have 
 speed, but no technique. 
 
 Meanwhile, patience is one of the virtues we learn in 
 the army. I'm cultivating it. Some day, a boat will 
 hump up to a Hoboken dock, and this fledgeling will 
 be on it. In the meantime, I'm sitting tight. 
 
 Yesterday I read the "Love Letters of a Rookie." I 
 love that line about the sweater the girl's mother sent 
 him, "I got the sweater your mother sent me. I'm* not 
 sore, Mable, give your mother my love just the same." 
 
 January 19, 1919. 
 
 I am very happy, of course I will be happier when 
 I get back to the States. 
 
 Though very quiet and not in the least hectic, life 
 is pleasant here. A fine lot of brother officers. We 
 ride together, loan each other the few books we can 
 get hold of, visit together in the evenings before an 
 open fire. 
 
 Doc H — , our vet, went to Paris on leave the other 
 day. Before he left, the chaplain said, "Now Doc, 
 come back clean." Doc says, "I came back clean all 
 right, — not a cent." 
 
 The only distraction in the City of Juyencourt, — 
 don't you love the name, — is a regimental show given 
 at the Y. M. C. A. twice a week. I go regularly, an 
 ideal first nighter. Usually, I take Suzanne, a won- 
 derful French kid about nine years old. She wears 
 an officer's overseas cap, and pinned around on it is 
 every insignia ever worn in the army. She is all 
 grades from second lieutenant to general, and belongs 
 to every branch of the service, infantry, cavalry, avia- 
 tion, etc. 
 
 The shows are amusing; several of the players used 
 
134 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 to be in burlesque, so there's always a lot of slap stick. 
 
 Suzanne loves it, and is a great audience. If there 
 is a pathetic ballad rendered, Suzanne is on the verge 
 of tears. If the song is gay, she laughs aloud. 
 
 I watch Suzanne, and get double enjoyment out of 
 the show. 
 
 My leave has been delayed again. 
 
 But if I ever feel like grumbling, I think of what a 
 winter campaign in the line would have meant. Then 
 again, I'm healthy. It's much more fun to be walking 
 around on two legs than on crutches. "Ow, my eye, 
 that would 'ave been a bally wash out." 
 
 You know, the army is a great institution. The 
 lads in khaki that are actively engaged, pity the Naval 
 Reserves, those who didn't join the service, and the 
 chaps overseas who didn't see any fire. The ones with 
 wound stripes pity us, who fought but were not hit. 
 And they, in turn, bow their heads before the dead. 
 
 After all, they are the real heroes. 
 
 And how quickly they are forgotten. 
 
PART III. 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY 
 
CAPTAIN GEORGE U. HARVEY 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 137 
 
 I. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26f H, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 
 
 Captain George U. Harvey 
 
 Co. A. 308th Infantry. Born in Galway, Ireland. Went 
 to first Plattsburg Camp as assistant instructor. Commanded 
 Co. A. 308th, Sept., 1917-Sept., 1918. Served on General 
 Staff A. E. F. Sept., 1918-Dec. 1918. Served on British front 
 April and May, 1918, at second battle of Arras. Served in 
 Vosges Mountains ivith VII French army. Entered Chateau- 
 Thierry drive August 5th. Took part in fighting on Vesle 
 River, near Fismes. Co. A. was part of the Lost Battalion. 
 
 Captain Harvey is now in the printing and publishing busi- 
 ness, the Harvey Press, 109 Lafayette St., Neiv York City. 
 
 Note Written by Captain Harvey to 
 Mr. Hamilton 
 Dear Sir: — 
 
 Regret I did not see you, but hope you can get 
 enough from these notes to serve your purpose. 
 
 This is a copy of a letter that I wrote home and has 
 never been published. 
 
 Kindly cut out any personal references I may have 
 used, as all credit in this war should go to the enlisted 
 men, not to the officers. 
 
 For God knows, they did the trick, not us. 
 Yours truly, 
 (Signed) George U. Harvey. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Knowing you are interested in fights, I am going 
 to try and tell you about the real one we had at 
 Chateau-Thierry and the Vesle River, when we beat 
 hell out the Hun, and commenced the turn of the tide. 
 Am sure you will agree, had we not helped to stop 
 him then and sent him on his way, conditions would 
 not be as they are today. 
 
138 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 We had been in the Vosges for over two months, 
 and my company was doing its turn in the front lines, 
 when we got word that we were to move. Of course 
 we didn't know where, nobody ever does. 
 
 The night I was relieved, we got away from the 
 trenches about 12 p. m. and marched most of the night, 
 or what was left of it, and when day broke, we made 
 camp and rested. As soon as it was dark, we were 
 on our way again, and so on the next night. In these 
 two nights we covered over forty kilometers — not bad 
 for a bunch who had done eight days in the front line. 
 
 At the end of our march, we reached a good sized 
 town and here waited for our trains. I was what they 
 call train commander and had the job of getting our 
 battalion on board, wagons, horses, men and all. They 
 packed from 35 to 40 men into a small horse car, but 
 our lads didn't kick, as it's much better than hiking. 
 
 I was given sealed orders, with instructions not to 
 open until so many miles from the station. I opened 
 them in due time. Of course, I never heard of the 
 place mentioned in the orders, but with due consulta- 
 tion of the map, I found that the place was near 
 Chateau-Thierry, so then there wasn't much doubt as 
 to our destination. 
 
 After two days of bumping around and going along 
 about 12 miles per hour, we arrived at our station. 
 Here I had to unload, find out where the battalion 
 could camp, etc. We found a good town this time, 
 saw a little life and had a few good things to eat, as 
 we were but a few hours from Paris. 
 
 From the military activity about, we knew we were 
 in a place where they were pulling big league stuff; 
 the country was full of English who were doing their 
 bit at Rheims ; Italians and French who did good work 
 at Soissons. 
 
 We didn't linger much at this town, however, but 
 early the next day, got our orders to move, and damn 
 quick at that. We did, and after going about five 
 miles, we saw a fine line of busses, into which they 
 packed us like fish. We knew that when we were go- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 139 
 
 ing for a ride in French busses, it meant business, and 
 that we were needed badly somewhere — so we bumped 
 and bumped over the roads of Sunny France for about 
 twelve hours, going into Chateau-Thierry and beyond 
 till we reached Fere-en-Tardenois. It was dark when 
 we reached this town, and from the ruins and smells 
 we knew that something must have happened. I had 
 to take the battalion into a wood about a mile out of 
 the town. It was about 9:30 p. m. when we reached 
 them, and I shall never forget that place — it was filled 
 with dead men and horses. The whole wood was 
 pulled to pieces, the weather was warm and the smell 
 of the bodies — I shall never forget it. 
 
 Everywhere you stepped, you stumbled over some- 
 one. I didn't sleep an awful lot. The next day we 
 spent in clearing the place, and it was some job. This 
 town was the Hun's base for his drive on Paris. The 
 amount of stuff captured was beyond description — 
 you couldn't see all his dumps in a week. There were 
 shells everywhere, guns large and small, beyond count. 
 We found a great store of bottled mineral water which 
 the Hun gave to his men. We certainly did enjoy it. 
 The only thing I found him to be short of was to- 
 bacco — what we found was made of ground oak leaves 
 and neatly packed. The Hun was very active with 
 his planes and seemed to own the air, so we had to 
 keep close to the woods. 
 
 In one of his dugouts, we found that a British Tom- 
 mie had written his name, regiment address, etc., say- 
 ing that he was a prisoner and to notify his people, 
 which we did. 
 
 It was near this place that young Roosevelt lost his 
 life, and judging from the number of planes which we 
 saw lying around, he was but one of many. Here we 
 could hear the roar of battle and it kept going all the 
 time ; all night the sky was lit up. Part of our division 
 was in the fight, but as everything nowadays is in 
 depth, and as we were the last to go in (having just 
 come out of the line), we had to wait until there was 
 room in the front line. 
 
140 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Our second battalion went up, just 750 strong, next 
 morning, 150. Then the third went up, and then it 
 was our turn. 
 
 It was about noontime when we got word to go for- 
 ward at once ; this is unusual, as troop movements are 
 supposed to be made at night, but necessity sometimes 
 alters the case. We afterwards learned that our bat- 
 talion, on the line, had been badly cut up and required 
 relief. At one-thirty, I moved out with a few men at 
 a time, finding our way across country through the 
 woods, which hid our movement from the Huns' 
 planes. We lost our way and found it again, but al- 
 ways marched in the direction of the sound of the 
 guns, which after all, was a sure guide when going 
 into action. 
 
 We crossed a railroad and here saw every bridge 
 blown up. Judging from the hoof prints up and down 
 each side of the steep railroad embankment, it was 
 evident that the Hun went out in a hurry and spared 
 neither man nor beast. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, we reached our camping place 
 for the night. It was a dense wood into which we 
 found our way, and we made ourselves as comfortable 
 as possible. We were now under fire of the big guns, 
 but we had used such caution that the Boche did not 
 learn of our arrival. 
 
 The air activity was great — we spent what was left 
 of the daylight in watching many interesting air fights. 
 At times there would be from twenty to thirty planes 
 raising hell with one another. The Hun, however, had 
 the upper hand and did just about what he wanted, 
 setting fire to one of our O. B. balloons, which was 
 just over our woods. 
 
 The next day the captains went up to the second 
 line to look things over. We had our share of escapes, 
 as the Hun was doing all in his power to hold us for a 
 few days and we had run into a hell-hole, all ready 
 and prepared for us. I am sure the losses were greater 
 in the weeks we held on at the Vesle, than in the whole 
 Chateau-Thierry fight. It is easy enough to go for- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 141 
 
 ward, but when you have to stop and fight the Hun in 
 positions he has selected, you are certain to pay the 
 price. You want to remember that all this fighting 
 was open, and we had to dig our own shelters. You 
 can't do an awful lot of hole-making with the little 
 entrenching tool that you carry. All the day was spent 
 in going over the position which our companies were 
 to occupy in the second line. We then made our way 
 back to our companies to wait until dark. 
 
 At dark we led off, finding our way through the 
 wood, in Indian file, with about ten yards between 
 men. This idea is all right if everybody pays atten- 
 tion, but when conditions are confused, you are apt 
 to land at the end of your journey with a half a dozen 
 men, the rest of the company being God only knows 
 where. Things went along all right until we were 
 about two miles from our position, when we had to 
 come out into the open and in front of our batteries. 
 Then Jerry got busy. He's a wise old fellow, and 
 knew just exactly the roads and paths we had to fol- 
 low — he always seems to know what you are doing 
 and the night we went up he was extra wise. He 
 shelled us the whole time with shrapnel which luckily 
 was bursting too high to do any great amount of real 
 damage, but it was terrifying, and we spent the rest 
 of the trip running forward and flopping, looking for 
 a hole or a tree to duck behind. This lasted for about 
 four hours, and there were many killed and wounded, 
 but none of my men. You can usually find a way 
 around a barrage, but this one seemed hard. I would 
 stop, lead off one way, and just as I would get well 
 started, the fire would shift and come down on us. 
 I was knocked down several times by the concussion, 
 and heard the shrapnel pieces hitting my tin bonnet. 
 
 To make matters worse, our position had been 
 changed from that which we had looked over, and 
 as our guides were not sure of the way, we had to 
 wait (it seemed for hours), for somebody who knew 
 the country ahead. 
 
 I found my position, it was on the top of a hill which 
 
142 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 was slightly curved, and it reminded me of what the 
 beach at Gallipoli must have been. On our right were 
 two batteries ; two hundred yards behind us, in the 
 valley, were several more batteries ; and on our left, 
 more. I took up a position a few yards below the brow 
 of the hill, and although the men were dead tired, I 
 stood over them and made them dig the whole night. 
 Each man made a pretty good hole. The next day I 
 had all hands in the wood cutting logs and picking up 
 suitable stuff for head cover. I made them dig all 
 night, every night, for two reasons ; one, they got good 
 shelter, and I am proud to say that during the eight 
 days I was on this ridge, not one of my men was 
 wounded. The other reason was that when day came 
 they were dead tired and only too glad to sleep, thus 
 the Hun didn't know that we were there (as his planes 
 were very active the whole time). 
 
 The guns never stopped, day or night, and the Hun 
 never ceased his fire. He knocked the battery on our 
 left out, then the one behind us. I had a wonderful 
 place to watch — I could hear the shell coming, duck, 
 and then up again to see them burst. There were 
 many of our men killed and wounded — I would hate 
 to tell you just how many. There was never a min- 
 ute, day or night, that big stuff was not coming, and 
 most of the shell burst within two hundred yards of 
 our line. R — couldn't stand it and went to the hos- 
 pital, a nervous and physical wreck, and there were 
 others like him. Then they put gas over the whole 
 night, but our position was high, with usually a stiff 
 breeze blowing. We could look into the valley and 
 village below and see the gas clouds covering every- 
 thing. We heard the horns going, and knew that 
 somebody was having a bad time. Gas is about the 
 worst thing in war, as a few shell will put a whole 
 company out of business. High explosive does but 
 little damage; and when the shelling has stopped, it's 
 all over, but not so with gas, it is just commencing. 
 I have known men to be gassed and burned by mus- 
 tard several days after a gas attack, just by going into 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 143 
 
 a wood or a dug-out. It makes these dug-outs or 
 wood, etc., simply uninhabitable, and you must get out, 
 of course. Rain washes it out, and that is the reason 
 why the boys at the front don't mind when it rains. 
 
 It is needless to say, that during my eight days on 
 the ridge, I didn't sleep very much, as there was al- 
 ways something to do, and the nights were made 
 hideous with constant gas alarms. We had pretty 
 good food, as our kitchen was in the village about 
 two miles away, and twice a day we carried up food. 
 
 I want to tell you about two faithful little Italians 
 whom I had, and who looked after the officers' food. 
 At Fere-en-Tardenois, they found a two-wheeled ma- 
 chine gun cart, which the Hun had left behind, and 
 in this they carried what food they could find. They 
 filled a can with batter for flapjacks and at most un- 
 expected times, they would get a fire going and come 
 around with a plate full of the most delicious cakes, 
 naturally everybody would wonder where on earth 
 they came from. 
 
 The things which I have told you, and will, may 
 perhaps seem to be untrue, but any infantry man who 
 has come out whole from a big fight, no matter 
 where, has had the same experiences. In fact, every- 
 body who does get away safe and sound has had hun- 
 dreds of escapes and it's a marvel to me that anybody 
 does escape. 
 
 At the end of eight days, the company commanders 
 were ordered to the front line to look matters over on 
 the ground of the company they were going to re- 
 lieve. I left early in the afternoon, with two ser- 
 geants, and I am going to tell you in detail our ex- 
 periences in reaching the front line, as some days later 
 I had to bring my whole company (190) men over the 
 same route and at almost the same time of day. 
 
 The first thing we had to do was to report to the 
 Battalion Headquarters of the outfit to be relieved. 
 This was about three miles from our position. The 
 first half mile was through a wood that was being 
 shelled and full of gas, but we came through without 
 
144 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 trouble, but the next part of the journey did not look 
 promising. We had to cross a plateau which was 
 about two miles wide, without cover or holes, and 
 rising right above this was the Hun position so situ- 
 ated that he could see every movement on our side, 
 and even one man was subject to violent fire from his 
 Austrian 88's. Well, he shelled us the whole distance, 
 but we suffered no damage beyond the dirt and dust 
 caused by his damned shell. 
 
 Now, at the edge of this plateau was a valley, half 
 way down was a village, the "Villa Savoy." One road 
 led into the village — this was the special sniping ground 
 of an expert with an "88," and every inch of the road 
 was under observation. At the foot of the valley, lay 
 the River Vesle, and the Vesle was our objective. 
 This dirty little stream is certain to live in American 
 history, as a spot where our boys showed what they 
 were made of , and that Americans know how to die, 
 for surely this name will be long remembered in many 
 a home. 
 
 Battalion Headquarters were near the Villa Savoy 
 (but somewhat above the road which was the object 
 of the "88" sniper). I reported, received a guide and 
 set forth. We made our way with great caution till 
 we reached the road. Along this, the four of us had 
 not gone over one hundred yards before we heard the 
 shell coming. There was no cover beyond a bank 
 about ten feet high along the road. W T e fell under 
 this, put our tin hats over our faces and waited. Here 
 we stayed over an hour, not a shell was further away 
 than twenty feet, all hitting into the bank. We were 
 jarred, covered with dirt, and pieces of steel, after 
 each shot we would ask each other if any one had been 
 hit. Talk about hell, it had nothing on this. 
 
 We simply waited to be killed. We couldn't move 
 — there was nowhere to go — they were coming at the 
 rate of about two a minute. At last, getting desper- 
 ate, we each took turns and ran down the road, the 
 nearest cover being an old house about two hundred 
 yards distant, and believe me, I did move. Then the 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 145 
 
 building was hit, and we ran like rabbits from one 
 building to another, until the Hun either got tired or 
 lost us. 
 
 About an hour later, Captain Brooks, three lieuten- 
 ants and four men were killed near the same spot we 
 had occupied, so you see I was right — the Hun simply 
 couldn't get me. Really, I hate to tell you what I went 
 through, as I feel that you don't believe me, but every 
 infantry man who has come out of a big fight has had 
 just what I had, and doesn't think that my experiences 
 are anything unusual. 
 
 The village was in an awful condition, simply be- 
 yond description — a hell on earth. The dead had been 
 there over a week, that is, some of them. There lay 
 the poor wounded lads, waiting for night when they 
 could be carried up the road which I had just come 
 down. 
 
 We went out of the village, down the bed of a small 
 creek, and about one-half mile beyond till we reached 
 the Vesle. 
 
 We crossed by the one bridge, and reached the R. R. 
 some four hundred yards beyond. There were no 
 troops on our right or left, and we were the only 
 Americans across at this section. The Huns occupied 
 all the heights and knew every inch of the ground. I 
 reached the railroad and found that the Hun controlled 
 this absolutely with his machine guns. A hole had 
 been dug through the bank through which we went 
 on our hands and knees (my objectives was the wood 
 beyond). By the time we arrived there, it was pitch 
 dark, so all we could do was to find Company Head- 
 quarters which were in the middle of the wood. There 
 were no trenches, but simply small holes which each 
 man had dug himself. We had posts of two to four 
 men along the edge of the wood, while at a chateau 
 some eight hundred yards to the right, a platoon. 
 
 Soon after one a. m., the Hun opened with a bar- 
 rage. It was the worst I had ever heard, and sounded 
 as though the end of the world was coming. W^hat 
 damage it did to the woods, the men knocked out, etc., 
 
146 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 can best be imagined, as his fire lasted about five 
 hours. I was shaking like a leaf, with my head stuck 
 into the bank. The place was choking with the smell 
 of the bursting shell. I asked the captain just before 
 day was breaking, if there had been gas used or not. 
 He sniffed and said "no." "Then we had better get 
 on the job," I remarked. "They are coming over." 
 We just got on our feet, when sure enough, they were 
 among us. Several men, about twenty feet away, 
 were burned by their torches. They had come around 
 the woods from all directions — everywhere you turned 
 you heard their damned M. G.'s and bombs. They 
 were yelling and making an awful noise, and it was 
 surely terrifying. 
 
 There was nothing now but to fight — we knew that 
 retreat was impossible, as the barrage was moved be- 
 hind us, so the fight began. We were all over the 
 woods in little groups and each had its forty or fifty 
 Huns to look after. I had my two sergeants and with 
 two other men, I took care of our left. I grabbed a 
 rifle and bayonet, and we played the good game of 
 bluff on them. It worked great. We would lie down, 
 shooting what we could at the distance, when thev 
 came too close I would yell "Charge" and the five of 
 us, yelling with all our might, would go into them. 
 They never stopped once (once would have been 
 enough). I didn't know how many were killed, but 
 we did our bit. One of our men went after nine of 
 them, and killed them all. 
 
 Things commenced to look helpless, in fact they did 
 from the start. Nobody ever expected to come out and 
 the best we hoped for was to be taken prisoners. I 
 threw away all my papers and just kept righting. We 
 heard some shouting at the edge of the woods, then a 
 number of Huns with their hands up — these were the 
 first signs of hope, now we knew that he was quitting 
 and pulling out. From the prisoners, we learned that 
 about 1,000 had come over. We were 160, and killed 
 250 of them and took about 20 prisoners. When we 
 took stock, there were about fifty of us left. We de- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 147 
 
 cided to pull out of the woods, and formed up with K 
 Company on the track. It took considerable time to 
 move the wounded out — we couldn't get them through 
 the hole in the railroad bank, so we climbed over the 
 top of the bank and took a chance. The platoon at 
 the chateau was missing and we never found a trace 
 of them, even later when the division went on to the 
 Aisne. We hope the poor lads are prisoners. 
 
 Company K had a hard time of it also. They had 
 fought well, killed their share and suffered equally 
 with us during the shelling, especially when the bar- 
 rage moved back to the track, they received hell. 
 
 The two companies now held the track, and we 
 commenced to dig holes in the bank, as we knew the 
 Huns would be mad for the beating up we had given 
 them. 
 
 We spent about five hours getting things into shape. 
 Everybody was dead to the world and very hungry, 
 as we had had no breakfast and had lost what food 
 we had. 
 
 I was on the left of the line, working on my funk 
 hole, and not paying a great deal of attention to what 
 was going on. The men near me I noticed had pulled 
 out, but I didn't think anything of it. The next thing 
 I knew was that the Huns had worked around each 
 flank, had gotten behind us and now opened up with 
 their M. G.'s, at about 200 yards. About this time, 
 a party came over the track and jumped almost on 
 top of me. They got my coat and I spent the next 
 few moments running to the river with eight of them 
 after me. I don't know how I got away, but I'm here. 
 I ran pretty fast, and reached the river, wondering 
 how in the world I was to cross. As I told you, there 
 was only one bridge, but luck was with me. A shell 
 had knocked a tree down, which lay across the river, 
 and over this I stumbled and scrambled while the Hun 
 had some fine target practice. While finding the way 
 to the river, everybody I saw seemed to have a ma- 
 chine gun, they appeared to be in all directions and 
 the bullets kept buzzing about my ears. However, I 
 
148 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 was so exhausted by this time that I didn't care 
 whether they hit me or not. 
 
 I now made my way back to the Villa Savoy, and 
 here I spent a few hours doing what I could for the 
 wounded, who, poor devils, were put in cellars, for in 
 the street they were being killed or wounded by the 
 shelling. The stretcher bearers were too tired to 
 work any more, so a lieutenant and myself tried our 
 hand at the work, which meant carrying the wounded 
 up the road (under shell fire), of which I had my ex- 
 perience the night before. I lost some of my best men 
 here, who were carrying the wounded. But this was 
 hard work and I couldn't do any more, so I went back 
 to Headquarters and reported. 
 
 Here I was told that my company had been ordered 
 up at once, to reinforce the companies on the Vesle. 
 They left the second line at one o'clock and came 
 across the plateau under a terrific barrage. However, 
 only one man was slightly wounded. I met them, and 
 down we went through Villa Savoy and into the Vesle, 
 where what was left of two companies (47 men) had 
 taken up their position, after their retreat from the 
 railroad tracks. Our men put new life into them and 
 they began to reorganize their position. 
 
 In due time, darkness commenced to settle down, 
 and with it came the Hun, with his light machine gun. 
 He got around us until his fire came down from all 
 sides, front and rear, while his guns were shooting at 
 our rear, to make help impossible. We three captains 
 got together and decided to get out and hold the heights 
 and have the valley filled with gas — in other words, 
 do what the Hun was doing. So out we went. 
 
 It took us about three hours, and about 1 a. m. we 
 reported to the Battalion Commander as to the action 
 we had taken. However, his orders were different, as 
 it was the intention of the First Battalion to form be- 
 hind our position on the Vesle, and to attack at day- 
 break for the purpose of retrieving the lost position. 
 We debated and decided that I would go back with 
 Company A and take over the position. So out we 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 149 
 
 started. I didn't have much hopes of getting our posi- 
 tion, but orders are orders. 
 
 We got as far as the Villa Savoy, when the Hun 
 opened up on our flanks with his machine guns. I 
 sent small parties out on the flanks and continued on. 
 It was now about six hours since we fell back, and 
 believe me, I was worried, as there was no way of 
 telling whether or not the Hun had taken over our 
 position. To make matters worse, when I counted 
 noses, there were two platoons missing. There was 
 no telling what had become of them. You can under- 
 stand that it was hard to keep all the company together, 
 as we went Indian file with about ten yards between 
 men, and with the darkness, confusion and noise, it is 
 quite easy to understand men getting lost. 
 
 The machine guns were sending a hail of bullets 
 our way, and you could hear them hitting the trees 
 overhead, but on we went. Then along the railroad 
 bank, then into the woods, just back of the Vesle and 
 our position. Now the machine gun fire was not only 
 coming from both flanks, but from our front and rear. 
 The woods seemed to be alive with them. I formed 
 my outfit facing four ways, like a hollow square, de- 
 termined to stick it out and make the best of what 
 looked like a bad job. 
 
 We expected the Hun to attack at any time, but 
 nothing doing except the M. G.'s and an occasional 
 shell. 
 
 About three-thirty, our artillery opened fire, with 
 the object of clearing the woods and country to our 
 front, which we had lost the day before. Our front 
 trench (at least the one facing to the front), was just 
 100 yards from the opposite bank of the Vesle. The 
 shell would go overhead, hit the bank, and it was ner- 
 vous work sitting there waiting to be shot. But our 
 guns were doing wonderful work and I don't remem- 
 ber a single short shot. The barrage would go for- 
 ward to the woods, play on it a while, and then come 
 slowly back to the river, then on again. 
 
 In the meantime, we waited in vain for the rest of 
 
150 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 our battalion, which was to form behind us, but it 
 didn't come. However, our two missing platoons came 
 in, which made us feel a great deal better. The bar- 
 rage stopped at five o'clock, the hour for the attack, 
 but no battalion. I didn't know what to do. I asked 
 Whiting (Lieutenant Clinton Whiting later killed with 
 the Lost Battalion), and he said to wait a while. I 
 did, until 6 :30, and made up my mind that I could do 
 the job myself. 
 
 The Vesle had three crossings, they were not 
 bridges, but some logs thrown across the river, which 
 at this point was about thirty to forty feet across, ten 
 feet deep and filled with barbed wire. I decided that 
 about fifty men could do the work, that is, of recover- 
 ing our lost position, or of clearing out the Boche, so 
 that we could occupy it when the rest of the battalion 
 came up. 
 
 About forty men crossed at the center crossing, 
 formed for attack, while a squad with an automatic 
 rifle crossed on each flank. 
 
 We had no sooner crossed the river, than the Hun 
 opened fire with all he had. We soon found where 
 he was, about two hundred yards away in front of 
 the railroad, well hidden in the bushes. We got down 
 and fixed bayonets, and commenced to go forward, a 
 man here and a man there. The rest of the battalion 
 commenced to arrive, and also to lose a good many 
 men, for the Hun appeared to be nervous and was fir- 
 high, which resulted in the men who were coming up 
 being hit and suffering many casualties. 
 
 We kept going forward, while the party on the right 
 was able to push well ahead unobserved, and getting 
 on the Hun's flank, opened up a hot fire with their 
 automatic rifle. We saw the Hun wavering, with a 
 cry, we went into him with fixed bayonets, and he took 
 to his heels, went over the railroad bank and ran down 
 the track. The squad which had flanked him followed 
 down. I joined this party. There were about forty 
 Huns and we shot them like chickens — they pulled off 
 to the right and the whole bunch tried to get into a 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 151 
 
 small opening at once. We were now within a hun- 
 dred yards of them and opened up with our automatic 
 rifles, leaving most of them piled up ; at the same time, 
 we rushed two machine guns, the gunner being un- 
 able to open fire, owing to their own men being in the 
 way. We sent one of the crew back as a prisoner, the 
 others are still there. 
 
 The minute the Hun got off the track, some M. G.'s 
 down the track opened on us and it was our turn to 
 run. How so many of us got away alive, I don't un- 
 derstand ; however, two of our party were killed and 
 three wounded. We then went back to the Vesle and 
 on taking count, I found that it had cost us two killed 
 and eighteen wounded, the only losses I had in Com- 
 pany A while in the Vesle. 
 
 The 308th Infantry were at Battle of Arras — The 
 Vosges — Chateau-Thierry — The Vesle — The Aisne — 
 Argonne Forest — Captured Grandpre — First at Sedan 
 — beyond that it didn't do anything. 
 
 George U. Harvey, 
 Captain 308th Infantry, U. S. A. 
 
 Company A was part of the Lost Battalion. The 
 regiment received four Congressional Medals of 
 Honor, 180 D. S. C.'s; Company A, 21 D. S. C.'s; lost 
 approximately 650 men and 20 officers. 
 
PRIVATE JOSEPH B. RIGLER 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 153 
 
 II. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 
 Private Joseph B. Rigler 
 
 Bom in New York City. National Army September, 1917. 
 Overseas April, 1918. Dispatch runner. Seriously wounded. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 With the Seventy-seventh Division, I sailed on the 
 Justicia for Liverpool, arriving on the 19th of April, 
 1918. 
 
 Shortly after, we crossed the Channel to Calais 
 where we were welcomed, the night of our arrival, by 
 an air raid. 
 
 Gee, but we were scared. I thought sure I'd die 
 that night. All we were told to do for protection was 
 to lie on our bellies. If a shell ever hit our tent, "Good 
 bye, Buddy." 
 
 Next day we went down to the town to see what 
 damage the attack had done. It sure was terrible to 
 see the place in ruins and so many homes in flames. 
 
 We then started on a twenty mile hike and believe 
 me that's no joke with a ninety-pound pack on your 
 hump. 
 
 June found us in the Lorraine sector where we got 
 a real taste of warfare. 
 
 Cannon roared day and night. Something told me 
 I'd never come back. 
 
 I was in the band. That sounds nice and safe, 
 doesn't it? Well, it was a different story here; the 
 good, old band saw plenty of action. In Lorraine, all 
 we did was play for funerals, nine and ten a day for 
 the boys in the Rainbow Division. All these funerals 
 were held under big air battles. Our lives were con- 
 stantly in danger. 
 
 Presently, the boys were being killed and wounded 
 
154 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 so fast that they decided men were needed more than 
 music. So they took our instruments away, gave us 
 guns instead, and put us into the fight. 
 
 With no experience at all, we just went into it. 
 Boy, I sure was frightened. Like all the rest, how- 
 ever, I soon got over it. I was out to get the Hun. 
 
 They made us stretcher bearers. One grand job! 
 
 The Boche never did respect the Red Cross. If they 
 saw you carrying a wounded man, they'd shoot a one- 
 pound cannon at you. The skunks are no good. 
 
 I had to carry in many a bad case and I tell you it 
 was heartbreaking. I've carried fellows in such pain 
 that the sweat poured off them and I never heard one 
 complain. So long as they were conscious, they'd be 
 cracking jokes, or if they were suffering too much to 
 talk, they'd lie still and smoke the cigarettes we al- 
 ways tried to have for them. 
 
 As a reward for good behavior, I was given one of 
 the worst jobs in the army. Dispatch runner, deliver- 
 ing messages to the front line. I was the Colonel's 
 private runner. I used to go up to the front every day 
 with him. How I used to wish he'd take better care 
 of himself. He was too brave for me, but I got used 
 to it after a while. 
 
 One night, I had a very important message for Cap- 
 tain Eddie Grant, formerly of the New York Giants. 
 That was the last time I saw him; he was killed later 
 in the Argonne. 
 
 After crawling along, ducking shell, I finally reached 
 him. A piece of shrapnel hit me, breaking my leg and 
 putting a hole clean through. 
 
 My wound was so bad that the only thing that saved 
 me from having my leg amputated was a transfusion 
 of blood from another Buddy. Though I did my best, 
 I never could find out who he was. Gee, I'd like to 
 know his name so I could try to thank him. 
 
 While I was lying on the field, a gas shell dropped 
 near me and I got a dose of mustard gas in my lungs 
 that is still affecting me. 
 
 Dying for a drink, I lay out on the field two hours 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 155 
 
 before I was picked up. I stuck my head in the mud 
 to try and get some water. Meanwhile shell were 
 dropping all around me. 
 
 Finally the shelling stopped, someone heard my 
 groans and soon a Ford came along. A fellow jumped 
 out, told me to put my arms around his neck, and 
 lifted me into his car. There were three other boys 
 in that car, all raving mad. 
 
 When we reached the first field hospital, they jabbed 
 me with a needle and I lay there till another ambu- 
 lance took me to the field hospital. There I had the 
 best thing in months, a real white bed, and my first 
 warm bath since leaving home. 
 
 Next we went to the Chateau-Thierry field hospital. 
 When I opened my eyes there were two Huns car- 
 rying my stretcher. I think if I'd had a hand grenade, 
 I'd have thrown it at them. 
 
 For fourteen weeks I was in a hospital in Paris, and 
 then went to Blois where my name was posted on the 
 bulletin board to leave for Brest. 
 
 The day we boarded the ship for home, was the 
 happiest day of my life. I was sea sick all the way 
 back but that was a minor detail. When I passed the 
 Statue of Liberty, I felt like hugging the old girl. 
 
PRIVATE JOSEPH SISENWEIN 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 157 
 
 III. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 
 
 Private Joseph Sisenwein 
 
 Co. C, 307th Infantry. Sent Camp Upton September, 1917. 
 Assigned the 77th Division. Fought in Lorraine sector, Fis- 
 mes, in the McHise Argonnc offensive. Was wounded in the 
 Argonnc. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Registration Day, June 5th, I answered the call to 
 the colors. 
 
 Before long, I faced the medical board for exami- 
 nation. Out of about thirty that were examined, I 
 was the first to be congratulated on passing physically 
 and waiving exemption. On September 30th, off we 
 went to Camp Upton. 
 
 Upon discarding my "civies," I donned the khaki 
 and was placed with the infantry. Seven months of 
 my training took place in this branch of the service. 
 The training consisted mostly of bayonetting German 
 dummies, hiking, exercising, bombing, target shooting, 
 gas attack drilling, and infantry manouvering. 
 
 February 22nd, the "Camp Upton Boys," as we 
 were known, paraded down Fifth Avenue. The 
 crowds lining both sides of the avenue, were amazed 
 to see men who were civilians only seven months pre- 
 vious, transformed into such an army. They mar- 
 velled to see raw material changed into snappy soldiers 
 in so short a time. This parade was our "Farewell 
 America," and the cheers of the crowds were the best 
 encouragement that could have been given us. 
 
 Finally, on April 5th, 1918, at four a. m., we were 
 ordered to empty the straw from our mattresses and 
 pack up. We were all restless that day, awaiting the 
 final command to pull out of camp. 
 
 About midnight, we received our emergency rations 
 
158 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 of hash and hardtack. At two a. m., April 6th, the 
 orders, "Attention, count off !" were given, and out 
 from camp we hiked with full equipment. In addi- 
 tion, each soldier was given one hundred rounds of 
 ammunition. 
 
 So began our Great Adventure. 
 
 We didn't know where we were going, and what's 
 more, we didn't care a whoop. Continually, we sang, 
 "We don't know where we're going, but we're on our 
 way." Most of us thought our next stop would be 
 Camp Merritt for ten days, but instead, we boarded the 
 British transport Justicia ; about five thousand troops 
 were jammed in. 
 
 It may be of interest to note that the ship that 
 brought us over was sunk on its way back to the States. 
 
 Toward dark of the same day we boarded her, the 
 gigantic transport stole out of the North River with- 
 out anyone on shore being aware of the fact. Many 
 a soldier was so close to his home he could almost see 
 the windows, but all last "Good byes" were denied us. 
 We were kept well under cover until the transport was 
 a good ways from sight of the Statue of Liberty. 
 
 For twenty-four hours, we sailed north along the 
 Atlantic coast, till we reached Halifax. From the 
 decks we could still see traces of the Halifax dis- 
 aster. 
 
 Our convoy consisted of nine more transports, mak- 
 ing the necessary balance of strength, and away we 
 sailed to a strange land. Battleships, destroyers and 
 cruisers were within sight most of the trip. We cer- 
 tainly felt secure with such wonderful naval pro- 
 tection. 
 
 Nothing unusual occurred on our voyage across the 
 "big pond." Things were especially pleasant for me as 
 I was made the captain's orderly. Of course we slept, 
 drilled, and ate with our life preservers on. If one 
 was caught without it, he was liable to a court martial. 
 "Abandon ship" drill was held twice a day. 
 
 Two days before arriving, it snowed in the morning, 
 later turned into hail, and by noon it was raining. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 159 
 
 Still later the sun shone so brightly that in an hour, 
 everything was dry. I've never seen such startling 
 weather. 
 
 On my twenty-fourth birthday, April 19th, 1918, we 
 arrived at Liverpool. We went through England rap- 
 idly, made a short stay at Dover, and then, one bat- 
 talion at a time, we crossed the Channel in an old tub. 
 We were all lucky to arrive safely as we missed three 
 floating mines, and on the way back, the boat was hit 
 by a mine and blown to pieces. 
 
 We reached Calais, April 21, 1918. We claim to be 
 the first National Army Division to land in France. 
 
 At Calais, I had my first taste of war. We were at 
 "rest camp," when our captain, John H. Prentice, now 
 a major, D. S. G, gave us a speech about air raids. 
 He said, in part, "Boys, it all depends upon the weather 
 tonight. Personally, it looks as if we were booked for 
 a raid tonight. Be prepared, for God's sake stay in 
 your holes, and don't come out until the attack is over. 
 You," pointing to me, "are on blanket detail. Should 
 any soldier be wounded, carry him in a blanket to a 
 place of safety." 
 
 As if the captain had been a mind reader, at nine 
 p. m., while each squad was in its respective hole, I 
 heard the buzzing of motors overhead. Suddenly the 
 sky opened up and the Jerries dropped aerial bombs 
 that shook the ground like an earthquake. French 
 searchlights played across the sky, trying to spot the 
 enemy planes, while anti-aircraft gunfire was opened 
 toward the sky by French gunners. This tumult 
 lasted about three hours, then eight planes, now out of 
 ammunition, were forced to retire to their lines. Two 
 were brought down by the accuracy of the French 
 gunners. However, much property damage was done. 
 Luckily, no casualties occurred as we were quite will- 
 ing to stick to our holes, and the bombs fell about 
 five hundred yards from our section. 
 
 For the rest of my life, I shall remember our warm 
 reception, that first day in France. 
 
 At Calais, we turned in our American rifles for 
 
160 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 British ones, we also received British gas masks and 
 helmets. We soon learned the reason for this, we were 
 to be attached to the B. E. F. (British Expeditionary 
 Force). 
 
 Our tour of France then began. We left Calais and 
 entered our forty hommes or eight chevaux cars, in 
 other words, these cars were intended to accommodate 
 forty men or eight horses. In the States we call them 
 box or cattle cars ; they move about as fast as a mule. 
 As a rule, troop trains move very slowly. After twen- 
 ty-four hours of shaking up in these cattle cars, we 
 arrived at our destination and hiked ten kilometers to 
 a village where we were billeted. Some of the men 
 were billeted in stables after chasing the horses out, 
 some in chicken houses, and others where pigs had 
 been kept. 
 
 Now we were about forty kilometers behind the 
 Belgian front. After three weeks intensive training 
 with the B. E. F., we packed again for another hike 
 and ride. This journey brought us to the Arras front. 
 We were held there as reserves for the British, mean- 
 while keeping up our intensive training back of the 
 lines. A company of Americans and three companies 
 of British troops trained together as a battalion, under 
 the instruction of a British major. 
 
 A three weeks' hike followed. We sang as we hiked 
 over the dusty roads of France. Singing always 
 seemed to make our packs lighter. We were known 
 as the "Singing Division." 
 
 For military reasons, we never hiked through a town 
 or city in the day time but always waited for dark. 
 We passed more towns and villages than I have hair 
 on my head. Our field kitchen went astray and was 
 lost for a few days, along with our mess sergeant and 
 the rest of the "greaseballs." We had to sponge on 
 other companies for our "chow." 
 
 We were now ten kilometers from the Lorraine 
 front. I picked up a circular, dropped from a Boche 
 plane. "Good bye Rainbow Division; good luck," it 
 said. "Hello, Seventy-seventh ; we're ready for you." 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 161 
 
 On our way to the trenches we met the fighting 
 Sixty-ninth. The road was pitch dark and it meant 
 death to light a match. So a series of greetings were 
 exchanged, such as, ''Who's from Harlem?" "I'm 
 from Brooklyn." "Any of you guys from Yorkville 
 or the Bronx?" "Say, Buddy, don't forget you're 
 from New York. Give 'em hell ! We'll see you at the 
 Marne, so long." 
 
 I will never forget June 20th, the first day in the 
 front line trenches I was put on post No 5 where I 
 found two Americans and a Frenchman. I relieved 
 the two Americans of the Forty-second Division, and 
 they said, "Don't worry, Buddy, you're as safe here as 
 you would be in Times Square." 
 
 I didn't know how truthful they were but anyhow, 
 I was kind of shaky and nervous, but by the third day, 
 I was over that. I had great confidence in my French 
 comrade and that helped a lot. I grew so curious to 
 get a peep at No Man's Land that I stuck my head 
 over the trench. Click, Click, Click, whizzed the bul- 
 lets over my head. The Frenchman excitedly warned 
 me to keep my head down unless I was tired of carry- 
 ing it around. 
 
 The three days in the trenches were quiet because of 
 the heavy rain spell. But the fourth day was quiet 
 and I had a hunch something was going to happen. I 
 was then relieved and put in the second line trench. 
 
 I am now going to tell you of my experience in my 
 first attack. 
 
 June 24th, I was on Gas Guard near my officers' 
 dugout. In case of a gas attack, my orders were to 
 ring the bell and also grind away on the Claxon or 
 Siren. I was put on guard at two A. M. Half an 
 hour later, I saw green and red flares shoot up from 
 Fritzie's lines. That meant a gas attack and raid. All 
 of a sudden the Fritzies let loose with high explosives 
 and gas shell. I began to ring the bell and sound the 
 Claxon. The alarm passed all along the line and to 
 the rear. Everyone had his mask over his face, wait- 
 ing for orders. Fritzie continued his shelling (5,000 
 
162 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 shell), from two thirty-five A. M. till five-thirty A. M. 
 My officer signaled for an artillery barrage so we 
 traded them some of our special brand of Hell in re- 
 turn for what they were sending us. 
 
 Next thing we knew, the Prussian Guards were 
 coming over at us. All our rifles and bombs were 
 thrown into action against the tide of the advancing 
 Prussians. Our front lines and Communication lines 
 were smashed. Our telephone system was put out of 
 commission. Still the Boches could not gain an inch. 
 A large number of our men were killed, wounded, 
 gassed, and shell shocked. Six of our men were burnt 
 to a crisp by the liquid fire the Germans sent against 
 us. We held our ground. Gradually, after eternities 
 of agony, the attack weakened, then ceased completely. 
 Instantly with new strength, we pushed our advantage. 
 The Boche line wavered then retreated. 
 
 After the attack, a number of our men were de- 
 tailed to bury the dead Prussians that were found near 
 our lines. 
 
 All was quiet, following that attack, and on June 
 29th, another battalion relieved us and we went to 
 Baccarat, fifteen kilos from the front to rest up and 
 get a cootie 'scrub down. 
 
 On July 4th, our company and a company of French 
 soldiers held a parade through the town of Baccarat 
 in memoriam of those who had fallen on the field of 
 battle. 
 
 After several days' rest, on July 8th, we returned 
 to the support of the same front. Such propaganda 
 as, "We will have dinner in Paris, July 14th," was 
 thrown down from Hun airplanes. We were detailed 
 to make dugouts, erect telephone wire system, and 
 other minor details. Now and then we could find time 
 to write a letter, and believe me, nothing was so wel- 
 come as a letter from home. Many a soldier would 
 rather have missed his "chow" than stop reading his 
 letter, because it was from the U. S. A. 
 
 By July 21st, we were holding the front line again. 
 I was then a runner, delivering messages from the 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 163 
 
 front to the rear. The boys called me Joe the Rat 
 Killer, because often I mistook a rat, the size of a 
 cat, for a Boche, and opened fire. 
 
 I was also a pigeon carrier. That was very interest- 
 ing. The pigeon's life was ranked higher than mine, 
 as at all times the pigeon was to receive protection 
 first. My duty was to carry six or eight birds in a gas 
 proof basket on my trips to the front and if all other 
 means of communication failed, the pigeons could be 
 used as a last resort to deliver messages. Two of these 
 birds would always be let loose at the same time, each 
 carrying the same message, so that if one went astray, 
 the other would reach the coop. The messages are in 
 code and rolled like a capsule. This paper capsule is 
 placed in a small tube that is attached to the inside of 
 the bird's left leg. The pigeons are trained to reach 
 headquarters from the front. 
 
 On July 30 I safely guided part of the 37th Division 
 (Buckeye) to the Lorraine sector front, and then the 
 Seventy-seventh withdrew, after doing its bit for forty- 
 five days. 
 
 All kinds of rumors as to our next jump were on 
 everybody's lips. The chaplain said we were going 
 to "a place where we won't need any gas masks or 
 helmets." Some of the boys bet two to one we were 
 going to Italy; others surmised Russia. 
 
 A ten-kilometer hike, a twenty-four hour box-car 
 ride, another short hike, and we camped in an open 
 field. We waited three days for orders. The sealed 
 orders came, and we hiked a short distance till we 
 reached a road lined with lorries (French Ford trucks), 
 driven by coolies. They certainly could travel. We 
 sped in these lorries several hours before we noticed a 
 sign on the road reading, "This way to Chateau- 
 Thierry." We all knew our destination then and were 
 ready for open warfare. 
 
 We stopped as support in the Belleau Wood. We 
 helped bury the bodies of many Germans, Americans, 
 and horses. 
 
 Belleau Wood was stagnant with dead. 
 
164 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 On we moved toward the Vesle River. The Vesle 
 sector was a slaughtering house. We advanced through 
 heavy artillery and rear guard fire. We certainly had 
 a hot time crossing the Vesle River. We crossed the 
 river on a span of a sunken bridge that was struck by 
 a G. I. C. (galvanized iron can). 
 
 Our regiment is given credit for capturing the city 
 of Fismes. 
 
 After the capture of Fismes, we advanced in open 
 order formation. Three days we advanced with a 
 shovel in one hand and a rifle in the other. Do you 
 know how the doughboy values his shovel? He will 
 part with his hat, his rations, canteen, or even his 
 souvenirs, but his shovel he cherishes only second to 
 his life. It's his one great protection and he can't bear 
 it out of his sight. 
 
 During our advance we would "dig in" at night and 
 lie in those "funk" holes several hours while the Ger- 
 man artillery was giving us Hell. At the end of the 
 third day, a front line was established on the outskirts 
 of a town held by the Boche. After consolidating our 
 front line, we were taken out and placed in support. 
 While in support I was detailed to carry ammunition 
 and food to the front. On those dangerous missions 
 I had to duck many a shell. Water was very scarce 
 in that sector. I remember filling my canteen one time 
 in a creek where dead Germans lay. To add to the 
 horror the water was filled with dead flies. Everytime 
 I took a mouthful of water, I would spit out the dead 
 flies. 
 
 After several days in support, we were put in the 
 front again. We gave the Jerries all we had, chasing 
 them each day. While pursuing these Boche, we had 
 to pass through their deadly artillery fire. German 
 airplanes overhead spit a rain of bullets upon us from 
 their machine guns. Also German machine guns had 
 been placed upon the roofs of chateaux, and many a 
 brave soldier was made a target. 
 
 September 10 we were relieved near the Aisne River 
 by an Italian division. I was still unwounded, though 
 
ECH OES FROM OVER THERE 165 
 
 how I came through this last scrap is a miracle. I 
 sure had a bunch of narrow escapes. 
 
 We piled into French lorries, driven by French 
 chauffeurs, on September 17, and drove twenty-four 
 hours through rain to billets at Le Chather. Here we 
 remained for a two-day rest. 
 
 At one A. M. September 20, we were ordered to 
 pack up, and without a change of underwear or socks 
 for about five weeks, our thirty-mile hike to the 
 Argonne began. 
 
 Before the Meuse-Argonne offensive opened up, we 
 were given ninety replacements. Now the company 
 was again at full war strength (255 men). 
 
 On September 26th, at two-thirty A. M. I heard the 
 loudest noise any man has ever heard. 
 
 The Allied drive that ended the war was opened. 
 The sky turned red. Every gun that was on wheels, 
 from French 75s to the great naval guns, just cut loose. 
 The hills trembled ; Hell-on-Earth opened up. 
 
 We dashed to the German support lines of the Ar- 
 gonne, and we were there on September 29th. We 
 took over the front lines at Depot de Machines, Octo- 
 ber 3rd. 
 
 The front lines consisted of "funk" holes in the 
 depths of the deadly Argonne Woods. It was mid- 
 night when my buddy and I entered our "funk hole" 
 in the front line. The Germans were from seventy- 
 five to a hundred yards away. After remaining all 
 night in our hole, at six-fifteen A. M. October 4, my 
 officer passed the word around for us to attack in 
 a few minutes. With fixed bayonets my buddy and I 
 went over the top at six-thirty A. M., acting as scouts. 
 Our artillery did not send over a barrage for fear 
 of killing our own men who were so close to the Ger- 
 mans. Also they were afraid of hitting our men of 
 the "Lost Battalion" who were surrounded. It was 
 the mission of the scouts to break through the line of 
 deadly German machine gun nests, and save the "Lost 
 Battalion." 
 
 On this trip I carried my combat pack of iron ra- 
 
166 ECH OES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 tions," and blanket, 220 rounds of ammunition, a bag 
 of eight bombs slung over my shoulder, an overcoat, 
 shovel, rifle with fixed bayonet, gas mask, helmet, and 
 canteen of water. 
 
 The morning was hazy, with a fog in the distance. 
 My advance was very slow, a step at a time. In fact 
 I had to "swim" through the heavy shrubbery and 
 bushes of thorns. We were warned to be careful of 
 machine gunners placed in big trees. Each big tree I 
 passed, I said to myself, "God be with me !" 
 
 In an hour I covered about a hundred and fifty 
 yards. All was quiet, no Jerries in sight. I "smelled 
 a rat" when my advance was halted by barbed wire. 
 The other scouts, on the same line with me, and I took 
 out our wire clippers and were about to cut the wire to 
 let the following platoons through, when suddenly 
 the enemy opened fire with machine guns. 
 
 The first to fall, hit in the knee, was Tom O'Rourke. 
 I took the prone position, using a big stump for my 
 head protection. The only thing for me to do was 
 shoot for all I was worth. Meanwhile, the men back 
 of me were on their bellies too. A battle royal was in 
 progress. Every one of our rifles and machine guns 
 was in action. We began to throw hand grenades, too. 
 The Germans, only fifteen yards back of the barbed 
 wire, threw their potato mashers (hand grenades) at 
 us. When the bursts of fire from the German ma- 
 chine gun nests stopped, I could hear the excited Ger- 
 man commands. The machine guns in front and on 
 the right of me were quiet, but the one on the left was 
 still in action. 
 
 Then at last I got mine. 
 
 My entire body was shaken by a bullet that pene- 
 trated the heel of my left foot. It felt as if someone 
 drove a nail through and through my foot. 
 
 Sergeant Quevdo and Corporal Ivins dressed my 
 wound while the bullets whizzed over our heads. I 
 was ordered to crawl to the rear. I crawled one hun- 
 dred yards, then lay two hours on the battlefield. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 167 
 
 When 1 was finally placed on a stretcher, I left a big 
 pool of blood behind. 
 
 While I was being carried to the first-aid station, 
 a German sniper jumped out from behind a tree and 
 opened fire with his automatic at the stretcher bearers 
 and me. 
 
 Luckily, the bullets missed us and I arrived safely 
 at the first aid station, smoking a cigarette. 
 
 At Base No. 18, I was operated on, forty hours 
 after being wounded. Ten days later I was evacuated 
 as a stretcher case to Base No. 24 at Limoges. When 
 the Armistice was signed, I was still a bed patient, so 
 was again evacuated as a stretcher case to Base No. 
 22 at Bordeaux. Following fifteen successive days of 
 rain in Bordeaux, I was sent to the States as a crutch 
 case. 
 
 After a month at Ellis Island, I was transferred to 
 the Base Hospital at Camp Upton, my old home. 
 
 I am now convalescing, and expect to be discharged 
 in time to wear my straw hat. 
 
 Thank God, this Summer's hat will be lighter than 
 last year's "tin derby." 
 
 P. S. — The German who sniped me has "gone west" 
 and is now "pushing up daisies." My stretcher bearers 
 killed him. 
 
PRIVATE GEORGE HART 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THER E 169 
 
 IV 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Private George Hart 
 
 Born in Ohio. Enlisted July 1, 1917. Assigned 83rd En- 
 gineers. Overseas July 8. Cantigny, Chateau-Thierry. 
 Wounded at the Mame. Good work of_ 38th Division, the 
 Pennsylvania National Guard. Appreciation of Salvation 
 Army. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Ohio couldn't hold me when this country went into 
 the war. I felt that it was my war, and that I just 
 had to get in it and help do the job. The German had 
 been making a big noise about what a fighter he was, 
 and I wanted to find out if he was as good as he 
 claimed to be. 
 
 I enlisted at Camp Sherman on July 1st, and on 
 July 8th was on my way overseas. That's pretty close 
 to a record for a quick get-away to France. 
 
 My regiment was the first of the engineers to land, 
 and we had our work cut out for us before we were 
 off the ship. We had come to France primarily to 
 fight and yet, for a time, it seemed we might as well 
 be at work on road building in the States. 
 
 But it came to us. 
 
 We were moved up to Cantigny to get the roads and 
 bridges in shape, for our First Division was due to 
 go in there and try their teeth on the Hun. 
 
 From there we slipped away and took the road to 
 Chateau-Thierry, where our men were already fight- 
 ing, though, of course, we did not know it at the time. 
 The 7th Machine Gun Battalion of the 3rd Division 
 (motorized) had rolled into Chateau-Thierry on the 
 
170 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 afternoon of May 31st. For more than twenty-four 
 hours, they had been pounding the roads ; they had had 
 no food in that time, yet they went immediately into 
 action in the town, in support of the French Colonials. 
 This unit was, so to speak, the ace of the machine gun 
 outfits of our expeditionary force. Its gunners were 
 sharpshooters with a machine gun, and the effect of 
 their fire on the German troops was to slow down the 
 advance at that point, and between our machine gun- 
 ners and the French Colonials, the German failed to 
 cross the river. 
 
 I did not see that fight, but was in the town while 
 we were on duty in that sector. From members of 
 the Machine Gun Battalion who were in the fight and 
 survived it, I had the story of the fight. 
 
 The battle for the river crossing was fought to a 
 finish in the town. The French troops were in the 
 houses, on the roofs, and behind barricades. The Ger- 
 mans also had got well in, and had machine guns and 
 some field pieces in action. Fresh troops were con- 
 stantly coming up to add weight to the German 
 thrust, while the French, and the boys of the Third, 
 had to stick it out with what they had. 
 
 The town was on fire in places, adding to the heat 
 of the day, and the black smoke afforded a screen, 
 now to one side, and then to the other. 
 
 Under cover of machine gun and grenade barrages, 
 the Germans charged in masses again and again. The 
 guns ripped them to ribbons, but a few men, borne for- 
 ward by the mass behind, would reach a house or 
 barricade. 
 
 It would then be hand to hand. Houses were won 
 and lost, won and lost. On roofs, in cellars, and 
 through riddled dwellings the endless strife roared like 
 a great conflagration. Men drilled through and 
 through by machine gun or rifle bullets, fought on till 
 they died, still fighting, from loss of blood. 
 
 Up from the South, the rest of the Third Division 
 was pressing on toward the river. The dust hung in 
 clouds above the roads over which they marched to 
 
ECHOES FRO M OVER THERE 171 
 
 their first taste of battle. They sent word before them 
 to their battalion in the town, that the Division was 
 coming to their aid, "hell for leather." 
 
 "Hang on! Hang on!" was the battle cry of the 
 gunners as they fought and died in Chateau-Thierry 
 that day. 
 
 Other units of our army were also converging on 
 Chateau-Thierry. The Second Division, composed of 
 Marines and Regulars, had passed Meaux, where they 
 left the camions, and marched toward the fight. 
 
 And we men of the Engineers were drawing near. 
 
 From noon of the first of June, until way into the 
 night, troops were reporting and being sent to their 
 places in the line. After midnight, the Engineers 
 reached the headquarters of Colonel A. W. Catlin. We 
 had a few hours of sleep, and then with the first light 
 of day, set to work helping to improve the defensive 
 positions, where the men of the Second Division had 
 been told to "hold to the last." 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the second of June, I 
 looked up from where I was working and saw the 
 Huns coming. 
 
 From the woods, the ground sloped toward the 
 American lines. There were patches of brush, and 
 then well tilled wheat fields where the grain was al- 
 ready yellow. 
 
 The sun was glinting on the enemy's bayonets and 
 dancing in spots of irridescent fire from a thousand 
 points in his equipment. 
 
 The attack was made by two separate columns of 
 troops whose movements were coordinated with that 
 precision of movement in which the Prussian delights. 
 The columns were deployed in platoon fronts. 
 
 French troops had been screening the American 
 lines. Before the German advance, the French fell 
 back in ragged and dispirited skirmish lines, whose 
 futile fire the enemy ignored. 
 
 I lost for the moment all consciousness of danger, 
 for I had become a spectator at a great motion picture. 
 
 "Gimme a light, Buddie," the voice of a young 
 
1 72 ECHOES FROM VER THERE 
 
 Marine broke in on me, and brought me back to earth. 
 My hands were trembling as I fumbled for a match. 
 My mouth was dry, my lips cracked. I tried to wet 
 them with my tongue, but the very spit within my 
 mouth had vanished. 
 
 That is one of the strange things about this war 
 business. I have thought a great deal about it since 
 I came home, and could go back over times like this of 
 which I write. The struggle between physical fear 
 and spiritual courage that takes place in a man has 
 queer reflections or reactions in his body. 
 
 I peered down our line at the fellows crouching in 
 their shell holes. As I recall it now, it seems to me 
 that they were figgety as they poised on the rim of 
 their first big action. 
 
 The German attack was against a battalion of the 
 Fifth Marines commanded by a Major, or Colonel, 
 Wise. I forget his rank. 
 
 Our guns held their breath. The rifles seemed to 
 be seeking courage to lift their puny voices. 
 
 I heard the veteran "non-coms" talking to the men. 
 Their words came in staccato bursts. 
 
 "Pick your men ! Fire low and slow ! Keep cool !" 
 
 There was much swearing. 
 
 From our rear, came a sudden rising burst of sound. 
 For all the world, it sounded like the grandstand at 
 Belmont roaring: 
 
 "They're off!" 
 
 A squall of shrapnel burst above the German 
 platoons. 
 
 The chatter of machine guns struck through the 
 roar of the guns and the smash of the shell bursts. 
 Rip ! R-i-p ! Brrrrr the rifles joined in the symphony. 
 
 Where platoons had been marching bravely, a soli- 
 tary man or two stumbled about drunkenly. The 
 ground was heaped with writhing bodies. The pop- 
 pies whose bright red faces dotted the wheat were 
 watered with the wine of life. Sour wine to be sure, 
 since it came from German veins. 
 
 Three times the Huns tried it ; then sought shelter 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 173 
 
 in the woods whence they had come forth so con- 
 fidently. 
 
 There our guns followed them, combing the thickets 
 with shrapnel and H. E., to glean the last survivor for 
 the grim harvest. 
 
 How different had been the result from the charge 
 of our men at Cantigny ! Yet there, the Germans were 
 in greater force and better positions than we were at 
 Chateau-Thierry. 
 
 There was much joy among the Marines. 
 
 The services of the Engineers were no longer needed 
 at that place. We moved under cover of the dark. 
 
 You may think I am overdoing it. 
 
 Here's a clipping which shows what the Germans 
 thought of it. It is the report of a Hun Intelligence 
 Officer and fell into the hands of our men. It is 
 official. 
 
 "The 2nd American Division may be considered a 
 very good division, perhaps even an assault division. 
 The various attacks of the two regiments upon Belleau 
 Wood, were executed with dash and intrepedity. The 
 moral effect of our fire was not able to seriously check 
 the advance of the infantry. The nerves of the Ameri- 
 cans are not yet worn out." 
 
 "Belleau Wood" — I stand corrected, for I have writ- 
 ten of it, as at Chateau-Thierry. The 7th Machine 
 Gun Battalion was at Chateau-Thierry. It was at 
 BelleauWood, the fighting of the Marines took place, 
 and where the Engineers helped construct the defenses. 
 We fellows have got in the habit of calling the whole 
 muss Chateau-Thierry. 
 
 Things happened quickly after that; as well as be- 
 fore it ; I may not get the exact sequence of events, but 
 the dates are, I think, correct to the dot, for they were 
 stamped in blood and not easily forgotten. 
 
 The Germans had struck at the French Army of 
 General Gouraud on the high ground beyond Rheims. 
 A disastrous defeat for the Hun was the result there. 
 His luck had changed. The Yankees had brought 
 their baseball jinx with them, and the German staff 
 
174 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 had developed a glass arm. They put in a new 
 pitcher, and his star ball was an attempt to straddle 
 the Marne and flank our positions. 
 
 This eruption broke out between Chatillon and Dor- 
 mans, two towns on the Marne. 
 
 The Third Division, bearing itself bravely in its 
 first fighting, was in the line south of the Marne from 
 Chateau-Thierry to Mezy, some eight kilometers east- 
 ward, where between Chatillon and Dormans, the 
 spear head of the German advance was across the 
 Marne. 
 
 To the south of Dormans, units of the splendid 
 Pennsylvania Guard, the 28th Division, were well for- 
 ward, with orders to stay where they were and hold the 
 position at any cost. 
 
 Upon these untried and inexperienced National 
 Guardsmen, burst just such a storm as the Fifth Regi- 
 ment of Marines had faced at Belleau Wood. 
 
 There were not many of the Pennsylvania lads on 
 the spot, and they lacked the balance in the ranks 
 which the veterans and non-commissioned officers of 
 long training in the Marines had given the Fifth. 
 
 But they had been sent to France to fight, and light 
 they did. 
 
 If the men of the 38th were not sharpshooters, they 
 were nevertheless well trained in the use of the rifle, 
 and very, very many of them had been hunters from 
 boyhood. They were used to the open, eager to try 
 their mettle against the Hun, and their position was 
 not so unfavorable, except for the fact that it needed 
 to be held by more men. 
 
 Here, too, I did not see the fight, but went over the 
 ground afterward, when the Hun had been thrown 
 back across the river. 
 
 In that fight by the Marne, the boys from Pennsyl- 
 vania established the reputation of the National Guard. 
 
 The attack upon the Pennsylvania position was se- 
 vere, sustained, and well supported by artillery, but 
 it was met with torrents of rifle fire from the American 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 175 
 
 line, from the shell holes, fox holes, and brush, where 
 the men had taken cover. 
 
 From that fight but a mere handful of men returned ; 
 they came with laurel, however, for they had really 
 stemmed the German tide, which was turned into a 
 definite retreat as soon as other forces of ours could 
 advance. 
 
 It may have been the valor of inexperience the Key- 
 stone Division men displayed that day, but they cer- 
 tainly proved they could be relied upon in a desperate 
 emergency to obey orders and die at their posts with 
 the firmness of veterans. 
 
 The place where they fought was a shambles, even 
 when I saw it. 
 
 It may seem that I have not written my own story, 
 but of events of which I only know by hearsay. 
 
 I do it for the reason that in all I have heard since 
 I came home of the fighting in the Chateau-Thierry 
 salient, I have heard nor seen no mention of the part 
 played by the gallant 38th Pennsylvania, and I want 
 to do them justice. 
 
 As the Hun reeled back before the blows struck by 
 the Second, Third, and 38th Divisions, and our men 
 reached the Marne, the demand came to the engineers 
 to bridge the river that the troops might cross to push 
 their advantage. 
 
 Certainly of all the unhealthy jobs I know of, with 
 the exception of testing parachutes, that of an army 
 engineer, bridging a river in the face of the enemy's 
 fire, takes the palm, gold star, and all the other 
 trappings. 
 
 The north bank of the Marne was sown with ma- 
 chine guns, manned by desperate men. On the hills 
 back of the river, German guns were in position and 
 making splendid practice against us. Our own artillery 
 was trying to silence the enemy guns, while our own 
 machine guns challenged the foe across the water. 
 
 There I was wounded, and just managed to work 
 my way back to the bank, where the Red Cross men 
 got me and sent me back to the dressing station, from 
 
176 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 whence I traveled on to the rear, through different 
 hospitals, until I found myself back in the United 
 States. 
 
 I had almost forgotten what is now perhaps the most 
 important thing of all. The regular provision for look- 
 ing out for us "over there" was supplemented by the • 
 work of various relief organizations. They ajl did 
 good work so far as I could see, although some 
 preached too much and practiced too little. 
 
 But the Salvation Army certainly were our friends 
 from start to finish. 
 
 No matter how rotten the weather was when we 
 came tramping back from the trenches, how late the 
 night, they were there to cheer us with the sweet kindly 
 faces of their women, the brave, hearty companionship 
 of their men, who understood us. They could get be- 
 neath our skins and find out what ailed us. 
 
 The fire of the enemy never stopped them and never 
 seemed to worry them. Where strong men shook like 
 leaves in a storm, the girls smiled and passed out 
 food to us. 
 
 The Army — I mean our fighting He Army can never 
 never begin to pay its debt to the Salvation Army. 
 They made good with us over there, and it's up to us 
 to make good with them over here. 
 
 The mothers and fathers, the wives and sisters and 
 children of the boys who were in France can never 
 give enough of money to the Salvation Army, enough 
 of brotherly love to their fellow men to even approxi- 
 mately even the scales. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 111 
 
 V 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Lieutenant Sydney Schoenfeld 
 
 Born in New York City, January 19, 1894. Resides in New 
 York at 854 Hezvitt Place. Rutgers College. Enlisted as a 
 private in C. A. C. Overseas with 505th Engineers. Action 
 on Toul front. Wounded Champagne front and sent to 
 officers' school. Attached French 4th Army Staff as Intelli- 
 gence Officer and commissioned Lieutenant. Croix de Guerre 
 with palm for service at Hill 354. Wounded again and cited. 
 Cited again on September 29. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I gave up finishing my college course to enlist as a 
 private in the Coast Artillery on Decoration Day, 1917. 
 The following December, I was sent overseas with the 
 505th Engineers. Having been made first sergeant of 
 Company C of that regiment after arriving in France, 
 with about 85 men, I went to the Toul front to lay 
 concrete emplacements for our big naval guns. 
 
 We were making ready even then for the great St. 
 Mihiel drive, which took place some months later, 
 ahead of schedule time. On this work we were under 
 fire all the time, losing many men and learning the 
 serious side of war, for it is doubly serious to the 
 Engineer. 
 
 I was transferred to intelligence work, and sent to 
 the Champagne where I was wounded in the left leg 
 by a machine gun bullet. 
 
 When I had made a full recovery I was sent to the 
 officers' school at Langres, France, for a month and 
 fifteen days, and then given a lieutenant's commission, 
 and assigned to the 157th French Infantry Division, 
 as an Intelligence Officer. This division was a part of 
 the army of General Gouraud. 
 
 Here I received the Croix de Guerre with palm, for 
 the following piece of work : 
 
178 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 I was detailed to find out what troops were opposite 
 us at Hill 354 in the Champagne sector, to the right of 
 St. Menehould. Seven men of the Alpine Chasseurs 
 were assigned me. While out, we encountered three 
 machine guns and 17 Huns. Engaging them in combat 
 with grenades, automatic rifles, and rifle grenades at 
 short range, we at length carried the position under 
 •cover of our own grenade barrage. 
 
 Reaching the enemy first line trenches, we learned 
 we had the 2nd infantry division of the German Army 
 ^before us. 
 
 Three of us got back, by slipping from shell hole 
 to shell hole. The men with me were also decorated. 
 
 After this I was again very active in intelligence 
 work on the front, and while out on duty was wounded 
 a second time, this time in the hip, by shrapnel. This 
 brought me another citation that gave me a gold star. 
 
 After a little more than a month in the hospital, I 
 was back with the French Army again. They had 
 moved to the Marne along about August. We moved 
 back quickly, however, to the Champagne front, and 
 were there ready for the final drive. 
 
 I was sent out with 37 men to a town called Han, 
 where in 1915, the French had lost about 15,000 men. 
 
 As our drive was to start the 28th, I had a couple 
 •of days for intelligence work. 
 
 At two in the morning of the 27th, we hit the 
 enemy's front line trench wire entanglement. 
 
 As the detail tried to work its way through, they 
 set some bells to tinkling, and this drew the fire of the 
 enemy's wire machine gun, so we lost fifteen men of 
 the detail right there. 
 
 When things had quieted down and our position was 
 unknown to the Huns, I disposed my men in shell 
 holes near the enemy's wire, and, alone, entered the 
 front line trench through a gap in his wire, made by 
 a shell. 
 
 I came, then, upon a dugout in which were several 
 men. The door was open and a candle burning. There 
 was a man on post. He was taking twenty-five feet 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 179 
 
 to complete his tour each time. I counted his steps 
 three times till I had his beat by heart, and then, the 
 third time when he came opposite me, I pulled my 
 automatic and shoved it into the sentry's stomach. He 
 was some surprised. 
 
 Taking his rifle and motioning him to keep quiet, I 
 drove him down the trench and through the wire 
 toward where my men were waiting. 
 
 Just as he was passing the last of the wire, the pris- 
 oner let out a yell. I killed him immediately, taking 
 his coat and hat, and rejoining my men, we began to 
 work back slowly toward our own trenches. The 
 Huns were thoroughly aroused, throwing up flares 
 and raking the ground with machine gun fire, but we 
 got ahead. 
 
 Six more of the detail were killed on the way back, 
 but the rest of us dropped over our parapet, and 
 mighty glad we were to be back. 
 
 Through the coat and hat I had brought back, we 
 learned that the troops opposed to us were Prussian 
 Guards. 
 
 At 5 :45 of the morning of the 28th, the French 
 attack was launched with great success. On our first 
 day, we cut into the Boche for a distance of six kilo- 
 meters, though the enemy gave us gas in clouds and 
 had the front covered with machine gun nests. 
 
 Two days later, I was taken before General Gouraud 
 and decorated again for my work on the 27th. 
 
 I was with the French Army of Occupation when 
 we went to Strassburg, and brought liberty to the lost 
 province. 
 
 On January 25th, I was ordered home and very 
 glad I am to be back in America again. 
 
180 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 VI 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Private Louis Weinberg 
 
 Born in New York City, May 1, 1889. With military police 
 of 77th Division. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 It is all too fresh and terrible yet, for me to care 
 to put much of my experiences in France in writing. 
 
 If there is any one outfit that sees all the rough edges 
 of war, it is the Military Police. 
 
 In the Vesle River fighting, I was on duty in 
 Bazoches. That's the place where Al. Kauffman 
 grabbed up a machine gun and running forward, placed 
 it in an advantageous position from which to shoot up 
 the Germans. 
 
 Some time after Al. had his gun in position the 
 boys heard him coming back to the place where most 
 of them were fighting. He was climbing along the 
 roofs of the houses crying: "For God's sake give me 
 some more ammunition !" 
 
 Fighting was going on right in the town. 
 
 You know what that means. The bloodiest kind 
 of work there is. Bayonets and butts at close quarters, 
 grenades, all the devilish things for killing men when 
 they have tied right into each other. A fight like that 
 doesn't give the stretcher bearers and the hospitals 
 any work. It is kill or be killed. 
 
 The Germans, after their fashion, when their own 
 men were fighting in a town with us, shelled the place, 
 and a big H. E. struck the building where Kauffman 
 was, killing him. 
 
 Our casualities at that place were sickening. 
 
 We had about 4,000 gas cases right there, while 
 man after man went raving mad in that inferno. 
 
 It was a long time before the fighting there reached 
 a state where we could bury our dead, and when we 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 181 
 
 did several of the men in our burial squad were killed 
 by the explosion of bombs, the Germans had intro- 
 duced into the bodies of the dead. 
 
 After that we made the German prisoners handle 
 our dead. I had heard stories about that, but did not 
 believe it till I saw it myself, but it's true. After that 
 I'll believe the Huns did run their own dead through 
 a garbage plant to get the oils and salts. They'd do 
 anything. 
 
 At Fere en Tardenois, among the dead we found 
 women dressed in German uniforms shackled to the 
 machine guns. It was a common thing. I saw it many 
 times. And chaining the men to the guns was done 
 right along. 
 
 If a woman complained to her neighbors about the 
 death of her people in the war, or made some remark 
 that offended the German authorities, she was sent to 
 the front and put in a man's uniform and chained to a 
 gun, placed in an exposed position. 
 
 The same treatment was given male civilians and 
 soldiers who were to be punished for some offense. 
 Many Alsatian soldiers, forced into the German Army, 
 died that way. 
 
 The Germans always had other guns trained on these 
 penal guns, and the poor devils chained fast never had 
 a chance for their lives. 
 
 These are the things you don't hear so much about 
 any more, but they should be told and told again. 
 
 We were into the third town from Sedan right on 
 the heels of the retreating foe. There I found a knot 
 of town people with a young French woman struggling 
 in their arms. In the road was a small child dead. 
 
 The woman was quite mad. 
 
 She was one of the victims of the Hun, and had 
 destroyed with her own hands, the moment the Ger- 
 mans departed, the child in whose veins ran the hated 
 blood. 
 
 Those cases too were common. 
 
 These are the things you people at home ought to 
 hear about the war, whether vou like to or not. 
 
182 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC 
 
 Private Larry Wolff 
 
 Overseas with the 319th Machine Gun Battalion, Company 
 A. St. Mihicl and Argonnc Forest. Wounded and gassed. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Within half an hour after the Sergeant's whistle, 
 I was ready with my pack on my back, a sandwich 
 in one hand, a cup of black unsweetened coffee in the 
 other. Off I started from camp on a five mile hike to 
 the waiting- trains that were to take us to a ferry 
 boat that brought us to the ship "Corsican" on which 
 we sailed for the other side. 
 
 They gave us each a number and mine was No. 713, 
 some unlucky number it was. 
 
 They put me down at the bottom of the ship in 
 a stuffy compartment with five other fellows. There 
 wasn't enough room to swing a cat by the tail. 
 Think of fellows being bunked in such a stuffy hole, 
 against the boiler room that threw off enough heat to 
 make a fellow sweat as though he were in a Turkish 
 bath, and not be permitted to go on deck until the 
 ship reached Sandy Hook. The first thing I did after 
 getting permission to go on deck, was to rush up and 
 inhale as much fresh air as I could. It gave me new 
 life with which to battle with the storms our ship en- 
 countered on this trip. We were among twenty ships 
 and a convoy, and were on the submarine infested 
 waters for eighteen days. 
 
 We arrived at Liverpool, staying there two nights. 
 Then we were sent to a rest camp to remain two nights. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 183 
 
 It gave us time to wash up and put away a real chowie 
 mess in jig time. 
 
 There we had our first glimpse of the Hun. 
 
 One was working on a coal pile and he gave us a 
 sneering laugh that made our blood boil and put fight 
 into our eyes. We were at this place only one night, 
 when we received orders to leave at twelve the next 
 day. We left the camp, marched until we came to the 
 Liverpool station, and entrained for a dock at South- 
 ampton where we boarded a boat that took us across 
 the Channel. 
 
 When we marched through the streets in France the 
 people threw kisses at us. We certainly enjoyed these 
 manifestations, but the moment word came we were 
 to get some chow, you should have seen the way we 
 braced up. Because you don't know what a fine dish 
 corn willy or monkey meat with a few hard tack of 
 the dog biscuit kind thrown in make for a fellow with 
 a keen appetite. 
 
 I got so I could eat nails and railroad spikes with- 
 out much trouble, and I didn't have to take any lacto 
 peptine to aid my digestion either. All the way we 
 had been meeting new troops that came from Lord 
 knows where, and with the assistance of one of my 
 Buddies we were able to attach a few bottles of 
 cognac which we drank in place of water. 
 
 After getting acquainted with many rats and cooties 
 that stayed at this place, we had to remain there a 
 month. We were told after inspection by General 
 Pershing that we were one of the best companies over 
 there, and were expected to do our bit. You can 
 imagine how we swelled up when the General praised 
 our showing, and we never forgot those kind words. 
 
 We were all on edge because we received orders we 
 were going to the trenches, and after marching fifteen 
 miles we came within two miles of the lines. Then 
 we marched in single line formation and knew that 
 we were headed for the front lines. 
 
 The reason the single line formation was maintained 
 near the front lines was because if a shell happened 
 
184 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 along, instead of killing five men, it would only kill 
 two. 
 
 As we drew nearer the lines a "Gi can" came threat- 
 eningly near us. The explosion of this shell fairly 
 lifted us off our feet. We continued to advance until 
 we came to tne front line trench, where we got our 
 first glimpse of the battlefield. The roads were strewn 
 with dead and wounded and the sights were awful for 
 a person who had never seen this before. We put up 
 our machine guns at some place whose name I do not 
 remember, and then we got orders to place a harassing 
 fire at the enemy's front line. We were working on 
 shifts, four on, eight off. It sure was muddy and 
 rainy all the time. 
 
 One day they picked me to give out the chow. We 
 had two cans attached to a long pole slung from the 
 shoulders of a couple of fellows. We walked for at 
 least an hour, through barbed wire entanglements and 
 shell holes, with bullets and shell all around us. It 
 was no easy task for anyone without being a little 
 shaky the first time. 
 
 When we reached the kitchen, we got some stuff 
 called "slum." It reminded me of painters' paste. 
 When it got to my stomach it danced the Salome. 
 
 We stayed there for a while until we went to an- 
 other sector called St. Mihiel. Here we dug out ma- 
 chine gun emplacements right near the statue of Joan 
 of Arc. We dug these emplacements the night before 
 the big barrage started. That was September 12th. 
 We dug in all that night. It was raining and the mud 
 was slimy as a fish. 
 
 At midnight the following day, September 13th, we 
 were posted at our gun positions, waiting for our or- 
 ders to fire. In an hour, we spied an aeroplane over- 
 head dropping red flares, which started the fireworks 
 going. 
 
 The big guns soon sent their warning to Jerry's 
 front line. From one-fifteen in the morning till six 
 o'clock the following night, the guns fired steadily. 
 Our aeroplanes were dropping bombs on Jerry's front 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 185 
 
 line trench. Bullets and shell slaughtered the Boches 
 as they ran from their rat holes. We advanced so 
 fast that it was hard to keep up with the infantry. 
 Town after town, village after village we captured. 
 Dead and wounded lay all over the roads. 
 
 In one town we took a warehouse of the Ger- 
 mans; in it we found bread, raw cabbage, and beer. 
 "I'll tell the world" we sure did have some feast, and 
 believe me, Buddy, we needed it. 
 
 We broke the wonderful salient of the Germans. 
 Undoubtedly this was one of the telling blows of the 
 great war. 
 
 After a few days' rest, we went to the Verdun sec- 
 tor. We got up there in little Ford cars; we were 
 motorized. We arrived about six a. m. We must 
 have shown fire, for as soon as we got off the machines, 
 Jerry began sending "Gi cans," whizz bangs, etc. This 
 kept up at least two hours. 
 
 Right here I had a little experience, and I can't 
 see how I escaped being killed. For protection from 
 the bursting shell, I ran under a bridge. Standing in 
 water up to my knees, I was covered with mud, cold, 
 and hungry. Jerry must have known we were under 
 that bridge, I was standing in among a few fellows, 
 when a shell hit a Buddy of mine and he fell into the 
 stream. Yet I, who stood right beside him, escaped 
 injury. I don't understand it, but those are the mys- 
 terious things that happen in war. 
 
 From the Verdun sector we worked our way into the 
 Argonne Wood. 
 
 We crawled up a little trench, the snipers sending 
 their bullets past our face and ears. However, we 
 kept right on going; "carrying on," we call it Over 
 There. 
 
 This trench was covered with German dead. The 
 scenes here were too horrifying for me to describe. 
 Even the sky seemed soaked with blood, it was so red 
 from the bursting of the heavy shell. 
 
 Our objective was Hill No. 170. As we were creep- 
 
186 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 ing along on our hands and knees, I got a little touch 
 of gas, mustard gas I believe it was, as it burned me. 
 
 Soon after, I felt a stinging pain in my leg and 
 knew that I was hit. 
 
 My Buddies carried me to the rear for treatment. 
 I was put on a hospital train and sent to Base Hos- 
 pital No. 47 at Boehm. I also contracted influenza 
 and pneumonia and I sure thought I was going West. 
 However, the treatment I received saved me. From 
 October 17 to December 8, I lay there, then I was 
 sent to Hyers in southern France to convalesce. 
 
 Every one treated me wonderfully, and I can never 
 express how deeply I appreciated it. I sure do thank 
 the Red Cross and I'll always remember the wonder- 
 ful work of the Salvation Army lassies. 
 
 I stayed in southern France a month, and then went 
 to Bordeaux where I received my sailing orders on 
 January 4th. This day was also my birthday, and 
 that sure was a wonderful present to receive. 
 
 Aboard the S. S. Wilhelmina, we docked at Ho- 
 boken, Sunday, January 20, at noon. The Red Cross 
 and Salvation Army gave us cake and hot coffee. 
 
 I sure was happy to be back in God's country again, 
 after going through such experiences. We walked 
 through the streets to the cheering of the crowds. 
 
 At Camp Upton, on February 5th, I received my 
 honorable discharge. 
 
SERGEANT MAX WICKER 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 189 
 
 VIII. 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Sergeant Max Wicker 
 Born in New York City. Drafted September 17, 1917. Camp 
 Upton. Boxing instructor. Overseas April, 1918, with 307th 
 Infantry. Service with B. E. F., Flanders, A. E. F., Alsace, 
 Chateau-Thierry Salient, Vesle River. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 September 17th, 1917, I was drafted into the serv- 
 ice, and was sent to Camp Upton where I stayed six 
 months. I acted as boxing instructor, and therefore 
 was promoted to sergeant. 
 
 I was one of the twenty-five men sent out of this 
 camp to obtain subscriptions for the Second Liberty 
 Loan. We were successful enough to get $1,250,000 
 worth. 
 
 On April 16th, 1918, we left on the Lapland for 
 overseas. We took thirteen days to get across. On 
 the ship we were told that we were being fed rabbits, 
 but I discovered it was not rabbits we were eating, but 
 sea gulls. 
 
 One night, the captain and I approached a man do- 
 ing guard duty who was studying the sea through his 
 glasses. "What are you looking for?" I asked him. 
 
 "Submarines, sir," he answered. 
 
 "How do you expect to see a sub on such a foggy 
 night as this ?" 
 
 "I thought maybe it would have lights on, sir," was 
 his reply. 
 
 We finally docked at Liverpool, the boys feeling 
 homesick already. Then we went to Calais, France. 
 Crossing the English Channel was one of the worst 
 things we experienced ; it was worse than the ocean. 
 
 Then we started for rest camp. That sounded fine ; 
 we thought we were in for a good night's sleep. But 
 we soon learned our mistake. We were billeted in 
 
190 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 tents, about twenty-five to a tent, and the first night 
 we had a glimpse of war. Some Hun aeroplanes 
 swooped down and dropped bombs between the tents. 
 
 "So this is rest camp !" hollered some of the boys. 
 
 "Rest camp," answered others, "hell !" 
 
 We spent three restless nights there and were mighty 
 glad to get away. With visions of a comfortable pull- 
 man, we hiked for the train. 
 
 Suddenly, about twenty-five of us found ourselves 
 stuck in a box car with a lot of cows. We couldn't 
 decide which was most uncomfortable, the cows or us. 
 
 That ride lasted four days. Some of the boys aged 
 ten years in those four days. 
 
 When we were dumped out, some thought it would 
 be fun to take one of the cows, but most of us ob- 
 jected because we had eaten so much bully beef we 
 never wanted to see a cow again. 
 
 Without washing or cleaning up a bit, we started on 
 a hike to a Flanders rest camp. After covering fifteen 
 miles, we reached the camp where we remained a few 
 days. 
 
 Then we hiked for the Flanders front. On the way 
 we fell out for about ten minutes. We were ordered 
 not to drink from our canteens as water was very 
 scarce. We were told that any man that touched 
 water out of his canteen would be court martialed. 
 Not long after, I noticed Private Panafillio drinking 
 out of a canteen. As he was sitting right beside me, I 
 balled him out. But he flatly denied that he was dis- 
 obeying orders, and kept laughing. Finally I discov- 
 ered the joke. It was my canteen he had been drinking 
 out of. 
 
 After we hit the reserve in the Flanders front, we 
 were trained by the British in modern warfare. Here 
 we got an idea of what civilization had come to. Every 
 town from there on that we passed had been bombed 
 by aeroplanes and cannon since 1914. 
 
 All the officers had to go to the Flanders front for 
 observation for a few days. While there I saw things 
 I can never forget. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 191 
 
 A little Canadian was pumping a machine gun over 
 the German lines, he was always cracking jokes, never 
 serious. Suddenly a whizz bang hit the trench, bury- 
 ing us all. When we scrambled out of the dirt and 
 debris, we found the little Canadian that had been 
 laughing a minute before with half his skull torn off. 
 He was still conscious. 
 
 "Say, Buddy," he whispered to his pal, "do you 
 think I'll ever see my mother again?" 
 
 "Sure thing," his pal answered. "You're going 
 home on a furlough now." 
 
 Next we were moved to the American sector in 
 Alsace-Lorraine. When we finally hit the front lines, 
 we got plenty of gas which killed a few of the boys. 
 
 While on a patrol with a lieutenant, a sergeant and 
 three' privates about three-thirty one morning, the 
 German sentries sighted us. All of a sudden, hell 
 opened up all around us. It was a box barrage. 
 
 "My God !" cried the lieutenant. "They've got us." 
 
 To add to all this excitement, a fellow hollered, 
 "Gas," and we had to put on our gas masks and run 
 about a hundred yards to our trench. Luckily, the 
 barrage lifted and we came through all right, except 
 for our clothes that were ripped to shreds. 
 
 About two-thirty another morning, the Germans 
 came over and raided the 307th Infantry with liquid 
 fire. One of my pals was burned to death ; two other 
 boys who witnessed this attack are maniacs for life. 
 Now that it's all over, I marvel not so much that I 
 was not wounded as that I came back sane. As it is, 
 I know that the things I saw over there will haunt 
 me all my life. 
 
 There are more rumors around a camp than in a 
 small town. We heard at different times that we were 
 going to Italy, Honolulu, and Russia, all over the 
 world in fact. Finally, our colonel announced that 
 before the end of the week we were to see some heavy 
 action. 
 
 The following morning, there were over a thousand 
 motor cars, driven by Chinamen, waiting for us. 
 
192 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Jammed into these cars, we rode for many agonizing 
 hours before we hit Belleau Wood. 
 
 All the frightfulness of war seemed concentrated 
 here. Thousands of baskets of German ammunition 
 were strung through the woods, left behind in their 
 retreat. Everywhere you looked you saw dead bodies. 
 It was a common sight to see boys buried with their 
 feet sticking out of the ground. 
 
 When we got our tents up it was so dark I couldn't 
 see my hand before me. I went into my tent and called 
 to the Buddy who was to share it with me. He didn't 
 answer, but while I was feeling around in the dark, 
 I suddenly touched a human arm. Of course I thought 
 it was my Buddy. I was worried because he didn't 
 answer, so in order to see what was the matter with 
 him, I did something forbidden. I lighted a match. 
 
 There between two trees sat a Boche, his gun point- 
 ing straight at me. For a second I was absolutely 
 paralyzed with terror. It looked as if I hadn't a 
 chance. Then all at once I saw that his wide open 
 eyes were glazed, and knew that he was dead. 
 
 However, though a dead Boche is a good Boche, I 
 didn't quite care for him as a bedfellow. So, out went 
 the match, I grabbed my stuff, and out went Max, too, 
 to bunk with some other fellows for that night. 
 
 Next morning one of the fellows tried to get the 
 gun out of the German's hand, but could not move it. 
 He had to cut the whole arm off. 
 
 From Belleau Wood we went to a town near the 
 Vesle River and there the fireworks started. Our or- 
 ders were to go straight ahead regardless of the cost. 
 
 I was gassed slightly but was able to keep on. But 
 in the next barrage, a shell burst within a few feet of 
 me and knocked me out for twenty-four hours. 
 
 I was taken to the first aid station at Chateau- 
 Thierry. After recuperating, I was attached to the 
 hospital as boxing instructor and physical director. 
 
 Eventually, the doctors decided to send me home so 
 I sailed on the Leviathan, landing in the blessed old 
 U. S. A. on Februarv 11th. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 193 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC 
 
 Corporal Alan V. Streat 
 
 Of New York, March 26, 1917. Enlisted in 7th N. Y. 
 Trained Wadszvorth. Overseas May, 1917. Service in Fland- 
 ers and Picardy. Battle of Knoll and other engagements. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 I enlisted in the U. S. Army on March 26th, 1917, 
 in the old Seventh Regiment. For eight months at 
 Camp Wadsworth I trained for overseas under Eng- 
 lish, French and American officers. 
 
 On May 10th we sailed for France on the Antigone, 
 an old German freighter. The trip across was not ex- 
 citing. Once, we had a submarine scare, which was a 
 scare and nothing else for the sub proved to be a keg. 
 We knocked it to pieces in about five minutes. 
 
 Finally after fourteen days we sighted Brest where 
 the Antigone lay for one day, and then we landed, 
 the 25th of May. 
 
 We immediately went to a rest camp about five miles 
 out of Brest, and the next morning hiked back to 
 Brest and entrained in side-door pullmans. We de- 
 trained at Noilles, and from there went to Morlay, 
 where we took up intensive training under British 
 officers. We hiked all over the country after that, and 
 in the beginning of August, landed at Steemvoorde, 
 in Flanders. At that time, I was attached to Battalion 
 Headquarters, Second Battalion, 102nd Regiment. 
 
 One day another fellow and myself were detailed 
 to carry some important papers from Steemvoorde to 
 Abeele, where regimental headquarters were located. 
 We were both on horseback. While passing through 
 the main part of the town, two shell landed some 200 
 
194 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 yards away, just off the road. We decided to wait 
 a few minutes and try to time the shell. We waited 
 about ten minutes, then as no more shell came, we 
 again mounted and started at a brisk trot. Just as 
 we were passing the main square, two more shell 
 landed directly in front of us, demolishing two houses, 
 and throwing my companion off his horse. I stopped 
 immediately to see if he had been hit, and found him 
 O. K. We remounted and galloped on to headquar- 
 ters. 
 
 Another funny coincidence happened, while we were 
 galloping down the road. W r e passed a fellow, lying 
 in the middle of the road and over his head an English 
 Kitchen Dixie (a kettle to boil things in) which he 
 was evidently using for protection. I yelled at him, 
 as we passed, telling him to follow us back to camp. 
 He arrived soon after we did, scared, but none the 
 worse for his experience. 
 
 On August 10th, we went into the front lines, in 
 front of Mt. Kernel, in the Scherpenberg sector, where 
 we were put to stem Prince Ruprecht's army of Huns. 
 They had been massed there preparatory to a drive 
 to the sea to get Calais. 
 
 The third night in the lines, proved to be the most 
 exciting we had in that sector. About three o'clock 
 in the morning, both our side and the enemy's started 
 strafing each other. It was there that we had our 
 first death, as our artillery fire fell short. We were, 
 therefore, getting it from both sides. I was standing 
 in a corner of the trench, when a small shell, prob- 
 ably a whizz-bang, exploded about ten feet away from 
 me, a piece of it piercing the back of the head of a 
 fellow, another piece piercing the man next to me in 
 the hip. 
 
 Probably the fact that I was standing partly covered 
 by the corner of the trench, saved me from getting a 
 piece of the shell. 
 
 After a ten-day stay in that sector, we went back 
 into the reserve, another regiment of the Division came 
 up to take our place. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 195 
 
 After being out three days, I was sent to a hospital 
 with internal trouble. I remained at the hospital for 
 about three weeks, and then rejoined my regiment at 
 a town called Beauquesne. 
 
 On September 26th, we entrained for Guillacourt, 
 where we arrived the next day. That night we hiked 
 up in front of the Hindenburg line, and on the morn- 
 ing of the 29th, we went "over the top," engaging in, 
 perhaps one of the biggest battles of the war, known 
 as the "Battle of the Knoll." This was located in a 
 sector between Cambrai and St. Quentin, where a 
 canal ran through a tunnel. This canal had been 
 drained and made into dugouts, each of which had 
 about five or six entrances, causing a lot of trouble 
 for us in the matter of capturing Germans, because, 
 as we would go into one entrance, they would retreat at 
 the other side. However, we gained our objectives, 
 and the next morning the famous Australians com- 
 pleted our job, so for the time being, we went back to 
 our reserve. 
 
 When we arrived at the rear, I was again sent up 
 to the front, with a detail of four men, on a burial 
 party. 
 
 This party was under charge of Father Kelly, the 
 Division chaplain, who deserves all the credit possible, 
 for his wonderful work throughout the war. 
 
 We buried approximately one thousand Ameri- 
 can dead, the result of the "Battle of the Knoll," 
 but there were three times as many dead Germans. 
 We did not bury the Germans, but just covered them 
 up. The Americans were buried in the best way pos- 
 sible. We wrapped them in burlap, and put them 
 four feet deep down in the ground, and placed a 
 wooden cross over the grave. Where possible, small 
 cemeteries were kept. 
 
 I rejoined my outfit on October 23rd at St. Souplet, 
 where they had been relieved by a British division. 
 We then went back for our much needed rest. 
 
 Then we proceeded to Blangy. We were located in 
 that town when the armistice was signed. We were 
 
196 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 due to go into action on November 15th, but as the 
 armistice had been signed, we entrained for Tuffe, 
 where we arrived the day before Thanksgiving. 
 
 On January 1st, I was detailed to Division Head- 
 quarters and was attached to the Division show. The 
 name of this show was, "Let's Beat It." 
 
 Well, to make it short, we reached the "States" on 
 March 4th, on board the Leviathan and I was honor- 
 ably discharged on April 14th. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 197 
 
 X. 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Sergeant Sidney Ettinger 
 Born in New York, August 7, 1888, and lives at 29 West 
 117th Street, New York. National Army, 307th Infantry, 
 77th Division. Served with the Division in France. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Now I am not going to tell you much about myself. 
 I did not do anything remarkable and I think my ex- 
 periences were about those of any other young fel- 
 low in the Division. 
 
 But I saw many things that thrilled me then and do 
 yet, many things that made me sad then and still fill 
 my heart with pain, for the often gallant and useless 
 sacrifice of life, for of course there were mistakes 
 made now and again, times when the Hun outguessed 
 us, though never a time when he outfought us, I'll 
 tell the world that. 
 
 There was the time for instance when Captain Blan- 
 don Barrett was killed in the Vesle sector. He went 
 over the top in a daylight raid with sixty men and 
 none of them came back to us. The captain and some 
 forty of the men were killed, while the rest were 
 taken prisoners. We had nothing to show for that 
 day's work except a bloody memory and a score to 
 settle with the Hun. We settled it, too, I'll say we 
 did. Settled it in his own blood at the rate of more 
 than a life for a life, but it didn't give our comrades 
 back, and apparently the Hun has learned nothing. 
 
 We saw some stiff fighting on the Verdun front and 
 as we were carrying on, under heavy shell fire, I was 
 struck in the arm, leg and shoulder by shrapnel and 
 gun shot. 
 
198 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 The same shell that got me got my buddie and they 
 picked him up with a sponge, poor devil. 
 
 Patrol work was the lively stuff. We'd work right 
 into the German lines, particularly after the fighting 
 was in the open, then we used to filter in through his 
 front and hang around till we'd manage to kill a sen- 
 tinel, strip him of his clothes and stuff, when we would 
 work back to our lines, if we could. 
 
 That is the best way to get information about what 
 is going on in front of you. 
 
 I wish you could have seen the boys of the Seventy- 
 seventh go into action, as I saw them go, smiling and 
 chaffing each other, rolling their own and lighting 
 them, never showing any fear and yet knowing all 
 the time what confronted them. 
 
 They were fine, too, at the Meuse. We had to come 
 down the steep slope of a small knoll to get to the 
 water where the engineers were working like mad un- 
 der frightful fire to throw a bridge across. 
 
 Up to their necks in water they were fighting with 
 the current and heavy, awkward boats while machine 
 guns, rifles and shrapnel were beating the water to 
 foam about them. 
 
 They got the things across, too, and out we went 
 on them in the teeth of that fire, officers ahead. 
 
 But the Boche practice was too good, they cut the 
 bridge in two and drove the men back from the water. 
 
 It is no joke being spilled into a river with a sixty- 
 pound pack on your back and 220 rounds stowed away 
 on your person, to say nothing of a miscellaneous col- 
 lection of souvenirs for your girl and friends back on 
 Broadway. 
 
 But I said I was going to tell you about the boys 
 and I am. There was a fellow by the name of "Fly" 
 Gilbert who belonged to the Headquarters Company of 
 the Regiment. He is Benny Leonard's brother, I 
 think. At any rate some relation. 
 
 The Huns raided us one day and after their fashion 
 used liquid fire and all they had. One of our fellows 
 was badly burned and fell out between the lines. This 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 199 
 
 chap Gilbert went after him and brought him back 
 to us, though he was badly wounded in the act. 
 
 He was cited for that and he earned it. 
 
 There was another boss chap with us and that was 
 Eddie Grant. Grant was some soldier and a mighty 
 good captain. We certainly loved him. There was 
 much real sorrow when he "went west." 
 
 BROOKLYN BOY CITED 
 
 American Expeditionary Forces, July 24th, 1918. 
 
 From Assistant Division Adjutant Forty-second Divi- 
 sion to Sergeant Wm. Maloney, Company E., 
 165th Infantry. 
 
 I am directed by the Division Commander to inform 
 you that your conduct on the occasion of July 18th, 
 1918, in subsector Taupiniere, Champagne, when with 
 three of your men you did voluntarily take up a posi- 
 tion, where you knew that the enemy was present in 
 force and you were in danger of being surrounded 
 and you covered the withdrawal of your platoon to 
 their position, during which time you saw about sixty 
 of the enemy advancing toward your platoon's posi- 
 tion, and immediately carried back this information 
 to your platoon commander, has been brought to his 
 personal attention, and he considers your performance 
 of duty on this occasion worthy of his highest com- 
 mendation. 
 
 He regards your action in the face of the enemy, gal- 
 lant and an example to your comrades in arms, and 
 characteristic of that splendid standard upon which the 
 traditions of our military establishment are founded. 
 
 (Signed) James C. Thomas, 
 Captain and Adjutant General. 
 
 Tom Maloney lived in Brooklyn, brother of Patrol- 
 man Michael E. Maloney, and employed by the Bush 
 Terminal Company. — Editor. 
 
200 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 XL 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 EIGHTY-SECOND DIVISION 
 
 Sergeant Victor Vigorito 
 
 Better known as "Johnny Victor." Bom and lives in Brook- 
 lyn, and zvell known in sporting circles as a boxer. Trained 
 at Gordon, and assigned 1st Battalion, 325th Infantry, 82nd 
 N. A. Division in which were about 5,000 Brooklyn boys. Tout 
 sector, St. Mihiel, Norroy, St. Juvin, Argonne Forest. Di- 
 visional citation for "great bravery and devotion," October 15, 
 1918. Wounded. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 Like the rest of the boys, I went in as a private, but 
 what I had learned in the ring soon brought me pro- 
 motion, so at Camp Gordon I was made first a cor- 
 poral, then a sergeant, and became bayonet and boxing 
 instructor. 
 
 Presently, I was assigned to the First Battalion of 
 the 325th Infantry, a part of the Eighty-second Divi- 
 sion, commanded by Major General Duncan. A good 
 soldier I'd say he was. 
 
 The Eighty-second was practically a Brooklyn Divi- 
 sion for it had on its rolls the names of fully 5,000 
 Brooklyn boys, and let me tell you they made good 
 over there. In addition to the 5,000 from Brooklyn, 
 the rest of Greater New York contributed about 3,500 
 more to us. The balance of the Division was southern. 
 
 Of military life, practically none of us knew any- 
 thing, although most of the southern boys knew how 
 to use a gun, while the city boys could use their 
 "dukes." A pretty good combination, I'd say. 
 
 We followed the Seventy-seventh Division to 
 France, crossing even before the Twenty-seventh. We 
 were proud of our work that had enabled us to be 
 sent to France so quickly, and prouder still when we 
 became the sixth American Division that was trusted 
 to go it "on its own" organization. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 201 
 
 In April we crossed the "pond," and we landed in 
 England where the 325th Infantry, my regiment, had 
 the honor of parading, and being reviewed by King 
 George, who struck us as a jolly little sport. 
 
 We wasted no time in England, but hurried right on 
 to France to take up the job we had come for. _ On ar- 
 riving in France, we turned in our American rifles and 
 were issued English rifles, gas masks, and some other 
 odds and ends of equipment, necessary for troops who 
 were to be a part of the British Expeditionary Force. 
 
 Having familiarized ourselves with the new guns 
 and masks, we moved up to the Somme front near Ab- 
 beville, for our first smell of German powder^ 
 
 We were soon in the fight, not as a division; but 
 companies and battalions went into the line with Brit- 
 ish troops who were badly shaken after the great Ger- 
 man drive in March. The fighting here was very 
 fierce, and tried the spirit of the new troops thor- 
 oughly, for the Germans were swollen with the pride 
 of victory and sacrificed men regardless. The first 
 severe casualties came to us when some of the 326 
 were set repairing broken wire entanglements under a 
 heavy German shell and machine gun fire. The men 
 did the job, though they were butchered while doing 
 it. Our hearts were filled with bitterness, for we had 
 seen our own brave dead, and had no real chance to 
 settle scores with the Hun. 
 
 In that experience is the key to the small number of 
 prisoners reported taken by the Division. Officers and 
 men, less than a thousand prisoners were taken by the 
 Division. We went into battle after this experience 
 on the British front, with the maxim, "the only good 
 German, is a dead one." 
 
 The Hun had made the big mistake of bleeding us 
 too much in our first fight. He had thought, perhaps, 
 to discourage us and break our nerve, instead he had 
 us hot for revenge. 
 
 June 15th, we moved to the Toul sector, and only 
 eleven davs later we were sent in to relieve the Twen- 
 ty-sixth Division, the Yankees, who had seen hard 
 
202 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 fighting in the Chateau-Thierry sector and were in 
 sore need of rest and replacements. 
 
 War now came to us with a vengeance. We had a 
 long stretch of front to hold by ourselves. The enemy 
 was active and aggressive, and we were there to pun- 
 ish him. 
 
 Patrol work gave us a great opportunity. 
 
 The southern boys certainly snowed up like stars 
 in this work, and by sending city men with them, the 
 whole gang soon learned how to creep out in the dark 
 and stalk a German patrol or listening post. It got so 
 finally, that our men would slip out on their own hook, 
 stalk a German, kill him with a trench knife, and 
 bring his helmet or cap for a trophy. Oh, boy! It 
 was some sport. 
 
 Trench raids were our meat, too. You know how 
 they go. The artillery sneak up a bunch of guns and 
 get them all registered on a few hundred yards of 
 German trench. The men who are to make the raid 
 are given plenty of opportunity to look over the 
 ground so they'll know it in the dark. Zero hour 
 comes along. 
 
 Whoop ! A box barrage comes down on Mr. Hun, 
 cuts him off from retreat, and prevents reinforcements 
 from getting up. 
 
 The raiding party nurses its bombs and grenades in 
 eager hands, makes sure the knives are loose and ready 
 to hand, and then springs over the top ; stumbles along 
 toward the German line, rips its clothing to pieces on 
 the wire, cut by the shelling, loses a few men in the 
 crossing, — to whet its appetite for the slaughter, — 
 takes a deep breath, and springs into the enemy's first 
 line, stinking of fresh spilled blood, greasy with the 
 flesh spewed all over by the shell. 
 
 A German officer comes running along. An auto- 
 matic sticks out a tongue of pinkish yellow fire and 
 acrid gas. The Hun crumples. 
 
 Some one is crying: "Kamerad ! Kamerad !" The 
 fellow does not show himself, and we are just natur- 
 ally suspicious. They give him a grenade and he stops 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 203 
 
 his bleating. Meanwhile parties of Huns have been 
 cornered in the dugouts. The officers look the dug- 
 outs over and figure out how many men will be in 
 them and then : 
 
 "Four." 
 
 "Six." Or some such number is spoken quietly. A 
 sergeant steps forward and counts out the required 
 number of pills (H. E. grenades). The men fall back 
 the least bit, and the grenades are tossed into the dug- 
 outs. 
 
 The party runs right over one fellow who is hiding. 
 
 An officer speaks up quickly. 
 
 "Don't give it to him ! Take him back, a couple of 
 you. We'll see what he knows." 
 
 A quick search follows for papers or anything that 
 will give us valuable information. 
 
 Then back we go. 
 
 Going back it is lively, for the Huns have opened 
 up on the ground we have to cross, and in the trenches 
 to the right and left of the raided sector, the men are 
 alert and throwing up flares. 
 
 We duck, dodge, creep, crawl, and finally get back. 
 
 A few of the boys have got it on the way back, but 
 we have brought them along. 
 
 The Big Fellow up at G. H. Q. looks over the re- 
 port and a smile lights up his grim old face. 
 
 "Pretty good stuff in the Eighty-second ! Send 
 them along with the First and Second ! They can 
 travel in fast company." 
 
 On the 9th of August, we are on the move, just in 
 time to miss a big gas attack. 
 
 We go to Pont-a-Musson and relieve, — just think 
 of it — the Eighty-second relieves the Second Division ! 
 
 We spit on our hands and squared our shoulders 
 then, I'll tell the country. 
 
 The Second had put the fear of the Americans into 
 the hearts of the Hun, and it was comparatively quiet. 
 
 Then on the 12th, old John Joseph Pershing just 
 says to the Eighty-second : "Go and get 'em. That's 
 what vou came for!" 
 
204 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 I don't mean to say, he said that to us in person, 
 but he said it all right in his orders, — only in military 
 language, you know, all dressed up for the histories. 
 
 They told us, our officers did, before we went in, 
 that this was the first time the Americans had gone it 
 all alone. They told us we came over to win the war, 
 and this was our chance. They told us, not to let the 
 Huns get away from us, if we had to run our damned 
 legs off. 
 
 In we went ; and did what we were told to do ; and 
 then some. For five days and nights, we never 
 stopped. Of course, the same men were not fighting 
 all the time, but the Division was, and the relief any 
 bunch got was only a few hours, then they would be 
 at it again. 
 
 I'd like to describe that for you, but I can't seem 
 to do it, yet, it is so confused, as though you had been 
 in a glorified riot for five days and nights. You 
 couldn't describe such a thing. 
 
 We took Norroy, and I'd say that was some fight. 
 German aeroplanes flying around overhead firing at 
 us with machine guns ; the Huns in the town blazing 
 away. 
 
 Well, we took the town. But we lost a bunch of 
 guys there. Now and then, we took a few prisoners, 
 but we had no time for any la-de-da business with 
 the Huns. Mostly, they got the bayonet or grenade. 
 We strewed the ground with them plenty, — I'd sav we 
 did. 
 
 Having done so well at St. Mihiel, G. H. Q. decided 
 to give us a rest, so they sent us to the Argonne For- 
 est. The rest consisted of relieving the Twenty-eighth 
 Division, establishing a new position by taking a cross- 
 ing of the Aisne near Appremont, and then pushing 
 along with our battle line astride of the Aisne. 
 
 There was some great killing pulled off there, both 
 by the Germans and ourselves. We sent several Ger- 
 man divisions to the rear with the very life whaled out 
 of them, while the numbers of our men were so re- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 205 
 
 duced that two regiments must be united to make even 
 one small one. 
 
 Each day our orders were the same. 
 
 "Push steadily on, regardless of the cost. Hold 
 what you take, and keep up with the enemy." 
 
 The orders were obeyed, though our men fell by 
 hundreds. The Division was being annihilated, but 
 those of us who were left never thought of quitting; 
 we were killing too many Huns each day to think much 
 about what was happening to us. 
 
 It seemed we had been battling for years, when we 
 reached a place called St. Juvin, which according to 
 "Intelligence," the Boche was supposed to give up 
 without an argument. Instead, he had dug in like a 
 woodchuck, got the guns of half an army to support 
 him, fresh troops to maul us, and allowed he'd have 
 it out with the 82nd, once and for all. 
 
 We had to have the engineers bridge a river, we 
 then crossed and formed under fire, then attacked our 
 objective. The engineers got the bridge down, though 
 it almost floated in their own blood. We got two com- 
 panies and part of a third across, then the Huns gave 
 us Hell. We lost about 280 officers and men in a few 
 minutes. It was the worst piece of wholesale murder 
 I saw in the whole war. 
 
 And no ground gained. 
 
 They figured out another way to try it again, and 
 while still holding the first crossing, we moved down 
 and got across at a ford, from where we fought our 
 way through machine gun nests into a position w r here 
 we could outflank the nests holding up the first 
 crossing. 
 
 We had to take prisoners at that time, for they came 
 so thick and fast we did not have time to kill them, 
 and we needed all the information we could get, for we 
 knew no more about the country than we did about 
 Central Africa. I was wounded on the 15th. 
 
 Just what the boys went through in the final cam- 
 paign can best be seen by the following laconic excerpts 
 
206 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 from Colonel Whitman's story of the 325th Infantry, 
 82nd Division: 
 
 82nd Div. U. S. 
 Field orders 10 Oct., 1918. 
 
 No. 23 23 Hours. 
 
 Map:Bnzancy 1/20000. 
 
 "1. a) The enemy has been driven north of the line 
 S ommerance-Saint-Juvin-Grand-Pre . Saint-Juvin is 
 reported evacuated. 
 
 "b) The First Corps attacks at 7 hours, 11th Octo- 
 ber, 1918, on its present front. 
 
 "2. The 82nd Division attacks at 7 hours, 11th 
 October. Direction of attack due North, 
 "a) Boundaries of attack: 
 
 Right, East : Sommerance (exclusive) Sivry- 
 
 les-Buzancy (exclusive) ; 
 Left, West : Marcq (inclusive), Saint- Jitvin 
 (exclusive), Verpel (exclusive), Ther- 
 morgues (exclusive), Harricoiirt (inclu- 
 sive), 
 "b) Objectives : 
 
 Intermediate objectives : Imecourt-Champig- 
 nuelles-Grand-Pre. Halt of one half hour 
 will be made on this line for the purpose 
 of re-organization and movement forward 
 of Artillery; 
 First objectives : Sivry-les-Buzancy (inclu- 
 sive), Verpel (inclusive); 
 Divisions advance to the first objective in- 
 dependently and will be prepared to ad- 
 vance to the Corps objective at 13 hours; 
 Corps objective : Sivry-les-Buzancy (exclu- 
 sive), Thermorgues (inclusive). On reach- 
 ing this line exploitation will be carried 
 out to the front and contact kept with the 
 enemy. 
 "3. a) The 328th Infantry is temporarily attached 
 to the 163rd Infantry Brigade and the 325th Infantry 
 is temporarily attached to the 164th Infantry Brigade. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 207 
 
 "b) Battalions that are to lead the attack in each 
 Brigade will be moved north of the Aire river before 
 daylight. Crossing will be covered by strong patrols. 
 
 "c) 163rd Brigade will attack between the West 
 boundary of the Division and Meridian 98.5 and the 
 164th Brigade between the same Meridian and the East 
 boundary of the Division. 
 
 "d) Battalions will be formed up for attack by 
 5 hours, on the North bank of the Aire river and on 
 the line Sommeranc e-po'mt 98.4-84.5. 
 
 "e) Tanks. — Five tanks will support the attack. 
 The tanks will assemble, during the night, on the 
 main road, 2 kilometers north of Fleville, and will 
 move forward with the Infantry, deploying across the 
 front of the Division as the Infantry moves forward. 
 Should Infantry discover machine gun nests, officers 
 will place a helmet on a rifle and with it indicate to 
 the tank operator the direction of the machine gun. 
 
 "f) Artillery. — To keep harassing and interdic- 
 tion fire in front of the advancing Infantry, and to fire 
 on all towns and important cross roads and special 
 targets. Artillery liaison officers with Infantry Com- 
 manders will keep Artillery Commanders constantly 
 informed of the Infantry positions. One regiment of 
 75 m/m Field Artillery to be assigned by Artillery- 
 Brigade Commander will support the attack of each 
 Infantry Brigade. One forward gun will accompany 
 each front line Battalion. Artillery observers will 
 move forward with the advance Infantry line for the 
 purpose of directing fire of supporting batteries. All 
 Artillery will open fire at "H" hour and will pass 
 under the control of the Artillery Brigade Commander 
 as soon as the action stabilizes. Full advantages will 
 be taken of the open terrain for advancing by echelon 
 of the supporting Artillery. 
 
 "4. Liaison : a) Strong Combat liaison will be 
 maintained by Brigade Commanders with the 5th 
 Corps on the right and the 77th Division on the left. 
 
208 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Liaison will be established and maintained between 
 Brigades. 
 
 "b) Telephonic communication will be maintained 
 down to advance Battalions. 
 
 "c) Axis of Liaison : FlevilleS aint-J uvin-S aint- 
 Georges-Imecourt-Buzancy. 
 
 "5. P. C. 82nd Div., without change; 
 P. C. 163rd and 164th Brigades to advance with attack ; 
 P. C. 157th F. A. Brigade Montblainville. 
 
 "G. B. Duncan, 
 } "Major General U. S. A. 
 
 "Commanding. 
 
 "Note. — One battalion of each the 327th and 328th 
 Infantry will be held by respective Brigade Com- 
 manders as Division Reserve. They will move for- 
 ward with the attack under the direction of Brigade 
 Commanders." 
 
 Observe that the orders say (a) "The enemy has 
 been driven north of the line Sommerance-Saint-Juvin- 
 Grandpre." As a matter of fact we know now that 
 he was south of that line for we ran into him before 
 the Sommerance-S aint-J nvin road was reached. 
 
 b) "S aint-J uvin is reported to be evacuated." Far 
 from being evacuated it was a hot bed of German 
 machine guns and was not taken until Oct. 14th. We 
 received the hottest kind of fire from it all during 
 Oct. 11-12-13 and part of the 14th, 
 
 c) "325th Infantry Eastern boundary Meridian, 
 99.3. Western boundary Corps Western boundary." 
 This was obviously a typographical error, as the Corps 
 western boundary was many kilometers away. The 
 dividing line between Brigades was known to be 98.5 
 so it was evident that our sector was about one kilo- 
 meter wide between 98.5 and 99.3. This left 500 
 meters from our left to the Aire river that should have 
 been filled by the 163rd Brigade. 
 
 For some reason that Brigade did not cross the river 
 and there were no troops in that gap until our own 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 209 
 
 Machine Gun Company and Company "F" were 
 thrown in to fill it. 
 
 d) "Jumping Off place will be Sommerance-Saint- 
 Juvin road." We pushed ahead fast to get to this road 
 on time expecting it to be in the hands of friendly 
 troops. Unfortunately the Boche beat us to it. He 
 was entrenched along it. 
 
 e) "Tanks will support the attack." None appeared. 
 
 f) "To each Regimental Commander six 75,' are 
 assigned, etc." None reported. 
 
 We were confronted with the problem of getting to 
 the jump off at 5 a. m. The distance was about 4 
 kilometers by road. No fords had been found by our 
 patrols; the leading battalions were widely dispersed 
 over a front of two kilometers ; the night was dark ; 
 no reconnaissance had been allowed for; time was 
 short. 
 
 It was decided not to waste precious hours hunting 
 for fords over an unknown river on a black night. 
 There was a foot bridge of some kind under construc- 
 tion at Fleville. That was selected as the point of 
 crossing. The 3rd Battalion which was at the Regi- 
 mental P. C. was at once started. Rush orders were 
 sent to the 2nd Battalion to assemble and follow. The 
 1st Battalion was in Brigade Reserve to follow at 3 
 kilometers. The Regimental Machine Gun Company 
 accompanied the leading Battalion. The men worked 
 their way through the dark forest and forded the river 
 in single file, using the foot bridge as a guide only. 
 Daylight found us still a kilometer and half from our 
 position and it was evident that the Sommerance road 
 could not be reached by 5 o'clock. By pushing ahead 
 fast, however, it was hoped to make it by 6 a. m. and 
 to jump off at 7. 
 
 It was intended to place the 3rd Battalion on the 
 jump off; the 2nd battalion in support and the 1st in 
 reserve, thus making 3 echelons. The column was 
 urged to make haste and its head was approaching the 
 jumping off place by 6 o'clock, when it was fired upon 
 from its right and from direction of its line of march — 
 
210 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 several men fell. Co. "M" was in the lead followed 
 by Co. "I," and Co. "L." Co. "K," it will be remem- 
 bered, had been detained in its original position. 
 
 As fire of snipers and Machine Guns now became 
 hot, the men were thrown into the ditch on East side 
 of the road. The Regimental and Battalion Com- 
 mander worked forward to the Sommerance road to 
 reconnoitre. A survey of the situation showed no 
 friendly troops in sight. In front on a ridge and to 
 the right on high ground, there were many snipers and 
 machine guns. Artillery now opened on the road in 
 which the Regiment lay. . It was now 6:45. To get 
 into position for the Corps advance at 7 hours it was 
 absolutely necessary to deploy to the right front, inas- 
 much as the head of the column lay near the Meridian 
 98.5 and our sector extended one kilometer to the East 
 to 99.3. No deployment could be made until the 
 Boche was dislodged from our right flank. Rush 
 orders were sent to the two rear companies "I" and 
 "L" to break off to their right and send a skirmish 
 line with its left near the main highway to sweep the 
 ground of the enemy. This was successfully done. 
 As the line passed the jump off road, Co. "M" joined 
 and at 7 :20 the Regiment moved forward, — 20 minutes 
 late. It was assumed that the Corps attack had started 
 on time at 7 hours; so we pushed on to ridge 85.5. 
 This ridge was heavily protected by enemy wire and 
 had a sunken road along its top, that ran due West 
 into Saint-Juvin. No troops were on our left. Saint- 
 Juvin was full of Germans who raked our left flank. 
 Our 37 m/m and Stokes could not keep up. No tanks 
 appeared. No 75 m/m guns reported. No friendly 
 barrage proceeded us. 
 
 One platoon of M. G. Co. was placed East of the 
 main road to support advance of Co. "I." One platoon 
 covered advance of Co. "M." One platoon used in- 
 direct fire over heads of our advancing troops. They 
 moved forward with the assault battalions and lost 
 heavily. 
 
 Liaison was established along 85.5 with the 327th 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 211 
 
 Infantry, but at 11 hours the C. O. of that Regiment 
 notified our Regimental Commander that he was with- 
 drawing about one kilometer. Meanwhile our 2nd Bat- 
 talion which was following in support advanced toward 
 Sommerance with Co. "E" in front followed by Co. 
 "G." Co. "F" was thrown in to fill the gap between 
 us and the 163rd Brigade. Co. "H" was detained in 
 Fleville by the Brigade Commander for police work. 
 The Battalion Commander sent word that the 327th 
 was falling back through his line. This was reported 
 to the Brigade Commander who directed me to hold 
 the ridge at all costs and added that the 327th would 
 be ordered forward again. The 3rd Battalion was 
 found to be left in a salient with both flanks pounded 
 by Machine Gun fire. Its losses were very heavy. 
 The situation was serious. Call was made for the Re- 
 serve Battalion to come up. Co.s "B" and "C" arrived 
 at 11 :30 and were placed below the crest to resist any 
 threatened counter attack. Co.'s "A" and "D" were 
 sent by the Brigade Commander to reinforce the 327th. 
 The Colonel of that Regiment dismissed them, saying 
 he was withdrawing. They then came over to the 
 325th Headquarters and were then thrown in on the 
 ridge. 
 
 Four enemy counter attacks were made during the 
 day but none of them were in sufficient force to drive 
 us back. Prompt response from our artillery was 
 made to our call for a barrage. Our own artillery fire 
 fell short in the attempt to break up these counter 
 attacks. Our men, therefore, withdrew until the fire 
 ceased when they advanced again to their positions. 
 This occured twice. 
 
 The hours of the Boche counter attacks are shown 
 by record of following messages : 
 
 "11:45 to C. O. 3rd Bn. 
 
 "Have requested fire from our own artillery on ridge 
 85.5 be raised immediately. When our barrage lifts 
 be prepared to take the ridge. It must not fall into the 
 enemy's hands. 
 
 Whitman." 
 
212 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 "1:45 to C. O. 3rd Bn. 
 
 "Barrage because of counter attack has been called 
 for on ridge 85.5. Do not withdraw from ridge except 
 to prevent barrage from falling on you. The enemy 
 must not be allowed to hold the ridge. 
 
 Whitman." 
 
 "2 : 00 P. M. to C. O. 3rd Bn. 
 
 "At 2 : 30 our artillery fire will stop. After that the 
 ridge must be reoccupied. The troops will advance no 
 farther than that. They must dig in for the night. 
 These orders are peremptory. 
 
 Whitman." 
 
 "17:10 C. O. 3rd Bn. 
 
 "No troops are to be withdrawn from the ridge 
 without orders from me. The ridge will be held to 
 the last. All company commanders have been notified. 
 
 Whitman." 
 
 Night found us as follows: The 1st and 3rd Bat- 
 talions rather badly mixed, held the ridge 85.5, about 
 one kilometer front. The 2nd Battalion was outpost- 
 ing the right of the 164th Brigade line near Sommer- 
 ance. Our patrol from this battalion found a gap of 
 over one kilometer between the 82nd and 42nd Di- 
 visions. The latter was well to our right rear. No 
 connection could be made with the 163rd Brigade, on 
 our left, until after dark, when one battalion of the 
 326th crossed the river and filled the gap. 
 
 During the day the following officers were casualties : 
 
 Killed 
 
 Capt. Chas. A. Fowler. 
 Capt. Parley B. Christensen. 
 Capt. Louis L. Battey. 
 Capt. Lamar V. McLeod. 
 1st Lieut. Farley W. Moody. 
 
 Wounded 
 Major Thomas L. Pierce. 
 Capt. F. M. Williams. 
 1st Lieut. R. H. Rives. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 213 
 
 1st Lieut. Julian F. Livingstone. 
 1st Lieut. James A. MacFarland. 
 1st Lieut. Raymond R. Goehring. 
 2nd Lieut. John O'Brien. 
 2nd Lieut. William J. Ehmer. 
 2nd Lieut. John I. Guice. 
 2nd Lieut. Oliver M. Perry. 
 2nd Lieut. Henry M. Edwards. 
 2nd Lieut. Arthur H. Bormann. 
 2nd Lieut. Frank H. Taylor. 
 
 No doubt could remain in the mind of the most 
 skeptical of the fighting qualities of the regiment. The 
 men showed the greatest bravery in face of galling 
 machine gun fire. The officers were totally regardless 
 of their personal safety and led the men with utmost 
 heroism. 
 
 The Regimental advanced dressing station was estab- 
 lished where the first casualties occurred. There was no 
 time to seek a safer place. Over 200 casualties were 
 evacuated this day under direction of Major O. O. 
 Feaster who with his assistants worked 20 hours under 
 fire. 
 
 About 150 prisoners were taken, 20 machine guns 
 were captured. During the night rations and water 
 were run up by Capt. M. H. Patton, Operations Officer. 
 In regard to the surprise fire from region of Saint- 
 Juvin and from our right, it was recalled that the 
 Division Field Order, No. 23, stated: "The enemy 
 has been driven north of line Sommerance, Saint- 
 Juvin, Grand-Pre," and " Saint- Juvin is reported to be 
 evacuated." No resistance w r as therefore contemplated 
 south of that line. 
 
 Oct. 12th. After a miserable and cold night at- 
 tended with much artillery and gas, dawn found the 
 command well dug in on ridge 85.5. No further attack 
 was ordered by the Corps. The enemy made no dem- 
 onstration against us. Advantage of the lull was taken 
 to reorganize into 3 echelons as follows : 
 
 Front line, 1st Battalion, ridge 85.5; 
 
214 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Support line, 3rd Battalion, Sommerance road; 
 
 Reserve line, 2nd Battalion, Brigade Reserve. 
 
 Co. "K" had been recalled from its former mission 
 and rejoined its Battalion. 
 
 At 16:20 hours word was received that the 42nd 
 Division which had relieved the 1st had at last reached 
 Sommerance. This released our 2nd Battalion which 
 was then placed in Reserve in rear of the Sommerance 
 road. 
 
 In this connection it is worthy of note that the Corps 
 Summary of Intelligence Oct. 11th, gave the enemy 
 front line as 1.500 meters North of Sommerance. We 
 found him on the Sommerance road well established, 
 with snipers still further South of the road. 
 
 The Supply Company was ordered to run the 
 kitchens up to Fleville and prepare hot food. Capt. 
 J. B. Connally was put in charge of this work and 
 thereafter kept the Command well supplied. 
 
 The 327th was now established on our right flank 
 and the 326th on our left. German planes were very 
 active on this day observing our lines. 
 
 A reconnaissance of the positions showed that in 
 front of us there was a succession of ridges, between 
 which small ravines ran west into the Champigmtelles 
 valley toward the Aire river. Each ridge was combed 
 by German machine gun fire and the reverse slopes 
 warmed up by his artillery. The men could not put 
 their heads up without drawing a whirlwind of fire. 
 It was plainly a case of calling for a heavy rolling 
 barrage before an advance could be made. 
 
 One platoon of the M. G. Company, remained in the 
 ravine near the cross roads and covered the troops on 
 ridge 85.5. One platoon was pushed to the top of the 
 ridge and supported the 1st Battalion. 
 
 Oct. 13th. No Corps attack. Our lines were ar- 
 ranged in combat groups. Ammunition and rations 
 and water were brought up. Enemy planes were 
 active. Our M. G. Company remained on ridge 85.5 
 and supported the 1st Battalion in its position there. 
 
 The Stokes and One Pounders were now up and 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 215 
 
 in position on the ridge. Except for moderate artillery 
 fire from the enemy, nothing occurred until 16 hours 
 at which time the Boche made an attack on our right 
 and on the left of the 327th Infantry. He opened 
 with very heavy artillery fire. This barrage rolled 
 over the 2nd Battalion and covered the men with mud 
 but by some miracle no one was killed. Our artillery 
 in response to call, laid down an effective counter 
 barrage which must have broken up the enemy as his 
 infantry did not reach the crest. Our men reported 
 that Germans could be seen throwing down their rifles 
 and running back. The 325th Infantry reverted to the 
 163rd Brigade. We remained on ridge 85.5. 
 
 During the day, the following officer was a casualty : 
 Wounded: Major Thomas L. Pierce 
 
 Oct. 14th. Our lines remained unchanged. Capt. 
 Castle succeeded to command of 1st Battalion. Capt. 
 Melton succeeded to Command of 3rd Battalion. Dur- 
 ing the night Oct. 13/14 orders came for an advance 
 of the 1st Army at 8: 30 hours. Saint-Juvin had not 
 been taken. This task was assigned to the 77th Div. 
 The 1st Battalion, 326th Inf., on our left had not yet 
 crossed the river, south of Saint-Juvin. It was ordered 
 to do as soon as relieved by the 77th Division. The 
 77th did not pass 326th at Marcq until 10 a. m. Oct. 
 14th. The 328th was how on our right. 
 
 It appeared from the map that we were already 
 slightly in front of the 1st Corps objective and conse- 
 quently could not go over until 10 hours which was 
 the time given to the units to leave that objective. Our 
 1st Battalion was in front, supported by the Stokes 
 Mortars and 37 m/m. Our M. G. Company sent 6 
 guns to leading battalion and 4 to the support. The 
 3rd Battalion was in support at 1.200 meters. The 
 2nd Battalion was held in Divison Reserve. Our 
 artillery laid down a good barrage. The assault bat- 
 talion followed it closely and gained \ l / 2 kilometers, 
 reaching the road Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges and the 
 crest immediately North thereof. Here it lost liaison 
 
216 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 with the 328th on account of our regiment being 
 further advanced. The support battalion moved on 
 time and the reserve battalion (2nd) advanced through 
 enemy artillery fire in line of combat groups as if on 
 drill. It is to be noted that the Brigade order of the 
 164th Brigade said: "So far as known of plans of at- 
 tack, the 164th Brigade will stand fast pending arrival 
 abreast of it of the 42nd Division on its right." Not- 
 withstanding this, the 163rd Brigade was ordered to 
 plunge forward. Again the 325th found itself in a 
 salient with no one on either flank. The position of 
 the leading battalion of the 326th was given by its 
 Major who was at 98.0-85.9 as being on road to our 
 left. The story of this morning's operations is shown 
 by following messages : 
 
 "10:30. 1st Battalion started over the top as per 
 schedule. No information received from front line 
 at this time but rear waves of supporting battalion can 
 be seen from this position. About 40 prisoners have 
 passed through our hands. 
 
 Castle." 
 
 "10: 59. Reports show line advancing as per sched- 
 ule. Prisoners are seen coming over the hill in large 
 groups. Support battalion is now passing my P. C. 
 I will move forward at once with my personnel except 
 adjutant and establish new P. C. Everything looks 
 roseate. 
 
 Castle." 
 
 "12:03. Have established new P. C. at 98.6-85.8 
 in ravine. Front line is being held up. Meeting stiff 
 resistance from ridge north of Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
 Georges road. 3rd Battalion is away behind and 
 should be pushed forward to our first objective and 
 make preparation to resist counter attack. 
 
 Castle." 
 
 At this juncture instruction was sent to the support 
 battalion as follows : 
 
 "12:45 C. O. 3rd Battalion. Report positions of 
 your companies. Castle is meeting resistance from 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 217 
 
 ridge North of Saint-JuvinSaint-Georges road. Send 
 forward to see if he needs support and put one com- 
 pany in if necessary. 
 
 Whitman/' 
 
 He replied : 
 
 "C. O. 325th Infantry, 13:20. Co. "L" extends 
 right of leading Battalion of 326th which is halted on 
 Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road. Co. "L" is on the 
 road from 98.1-98.4. Co. "K" from 98.4-99 on paral- 
 lel 86.2. Co. "M" is 300 yards behind "L's" right. 
 Co. "I" is 200 yards behind "K's" right. He pushed 
 one platoon Co. "L" out 150 yards to cover the 1st 
 Battalion left. The leading Battalion of 326th Inf., 
 say they are ordered to hold this road. They are dig- 
 ging in on it. Our Regiment cannot go on without 
 putting left flank in air. 
 
 Pierce/'' 
 
 "14 hours, To C. O. 3rd Bn. Disregard distance of 
 1.200 meters from 1st Battalion. Take up position on 
 ridge in rear of Castle. Dig in and hold to the last if 
 attacked. Get in touch with 328th Inf., on your right 
 at once. 
 
 Whitman/' 
 
 Following came from the leading battalion of 326th 
 showing it to be slightly behind our front line : 
 
 "From C. O. 3rd Bn. 326th Inf., To C. O. 325th Inf., 
 16:00. 
 
 "Occupy road to your left and am under heavy 
 M. G. fire from Saint-Jnvin, flank wholly unprotected. 
 Will let you know of any change. 
 
 Watkins." 
 
 From personal observation of the lines, Major Haw- 
 kins sent the following: 
 
 "1. Our 1st Battalion has passed beyond observa- 
 tion over ridge through parallel 86.8. 
 
 "2. Our 3rd Battalion has 2 companies on line of 
 road from about 98.3-86.3 to about 98.9-86.6, and 2 
 companies in support on reverse slope about 400 
 meters south east. 
 
218 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 "3. The 326th Infantry front line battalion has 
 prolonged Major Pierce's line on the road leaving left 
 of our 1st Battalion unprotected. 
 
 "4. This Battalion will move East of Saint-Juvin 
 as directed after reconnaissance. 
 
 Hawkins/' 
 
 "14:30. To C. O. 1st Bn. Good work. Hold what 
 you have. The 326th has been ordered to push for- 
 ward to cover your left, and the 328th to cover your 
 right. Do not go too far ahead of your flanks. Pierce 
 will support you. Give me exact position of your 
 lines. Do you need ammunition and if so at what 
 
 P ' Whitman/' 
 
 "15 :45. To C. O. 325th. No change in dispositions 
 since I wrote except that Company "B" 320th M. G. 
 Battalion is placing guns in new support. Support 
 Battalion 328th is on my immediate right. Every- 
 thing standing still. I surmise waits on Saint-Juvin 
 although "A" and U D" both wanted artillery on final 
 objective awhile ago. Boche plane flying straight 
 back and forth along our line, I think marking it for 
 fire. None of our planes in sight. 
 
 Pierce/' 
 
 "15:50. To C. O. 1st Bn. The 326th has been or- 
 dered to push forward to protect your left. Artillery 
 has been called for 500 yards North of your position. 
 Is 328th as far advanced as you on your right. Am 
 sending ammunition to your P. C. Hold what you 
 have until your flanks are covered. Fine work. 
 
 Whitman/' 
 
 Our Machine Gun Company followed 1st Battalion 
 
 in its advance to the Saint-Jitvin-Saint-Gcorges road 
 
 and took position there firing all during the day. 
 
 The day ended with following messages : 
 
 "C. O. 3rd Battalion requests me to inform you that 
 
 friendly artillery is holding 1st Battalion up at 98.6- 
 
 86.5. __ 
 
 Hawkins. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 219 
 
 "15:07. 1. The 1st Battalion is still held up in 
 same place as mentioned in message of 1 :55 this date. 
 "D" Company reports short of both kinds ammuni- 
 tion. Suggest details from Reserve Battalion be sent 
 in sufficient numbers to carry 7.000 rounds each kind 
 rifle and chauchat to each Company. Enemy planes 
 have been driven off by our planes but not until they 
 had done serious damage. 
 
 "2. "D" Company reports heavy losses. "B" Com- 
 pany is now in their front line. Request C. O. 3rd 
 Battalion be instructed to place 2 companies in sup- 
 port of my front line on the Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges 
 road at once. I have instructed my companies to dig 
 in for the night. Request artillery fire heavy barrage 
 for 10 minutes at intervals of 50 minutes and haras- 
 sing fire between times during entire night. 
 
 "3. 326th Infantry stopped on Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
 Georges road and say they have instructions to go no 
 further. Our flanks are held up and exposed Our 
 front line extends 98.2-86.5 to 99.2-86.9. 
 
 Castle/'' 
 
 Night fall found us well north of Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
 Georges road and dug in utilizing shell holes for the 
 combat groups. Men were tired and wet and cold. 
 Casualties very heavy. 
 
 Two Stokes Mortars and 2 Pounders were placed 
 near the Saint-Juvin- Saint-Georges road and were 
 used against the Ravine Aux-Pierres and woods north 
 thereof. Stokes fired 300 rounds. Pounders fired 850 
 rounds. 
 
 Rations and water were brought up at night but it 
 was a difficult matter to get them distributed to the 
 men. Details were sent to the cross roads for food 
 but it was a slow process under shell fire. Many men 
 had lost their raincoats and overcoats. A cold per- 
 sistent rain reduced their spirits — the shell holes were 
 deep in mud and water. It was a time that called for 
 the best stuff in every officer and man. 
 
 Our positions had undoubtedly been thoroughly 
 
220 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 studied by enemy planes during the day. Our front 
 battalion was conspicuous on the ridge North of the 
 main road ; its flanks were unsupported. The position 
 was an exposed one, facing a very strong position of 
 the Boche. 
 
 During the day the following Officers were casual- 
 ties: 
 
 Killed. 
 
 1st Lieut. William P. Spratt. 
 1st Lieut. Norman A. Garrett. 
 2nd Lieut. George W. Huston. 
 
 Wounded. 
 
 Major Thomas L. Pierce. 
 1st Lieut. J. H. Thompson. 
 2nd Lieut. Everett Shepherd. 
 
 Oct. 15th. Daybreak came with a misty rain and 
 orders to attack with the First Army line at 7:30 
 hours. The information given stated "The Kremhilde 
 Stellung has been breached by the 82nd Division." 
 The 325th Inf., being as well advanced as any other 
 unit in the Division, must be given its full share of 
 credit in the breaking of this famous line. 
 
 The barrage was scheduled to start at 7:25 at a 
 point 300 meters in front of the jumping off place, and 
 to be held there for 5 minutes ; after this it was to 
 advance for 1.000 meters and then cease. 
 
 This is interesting to remember in view of what 
 developed later. 
 
 It almost seemed as if the enemy had seen our or- 
 ders. 
 
 Our formation was the same as the day before, 
 i. e. 1st Battalion in assaulting line ; the 3rd in support 
 at 500 meters. The 2nd Battalion was designated to 
 be Division Reserve and to remain near cross roads 
 98.1-85.0. Our M. G. Co. was relieved by Co. "C" 
 320th M. G. Bn. and was sent to join Division Re- 
 serve. Our Stokes and Pounders remained in place. 
 The unexpected happened ; the Boche attacked first, 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 221 
 
 before "H" hour. The testimony from men of the 
 leading battalion is to the effect that their outpost line 
 was in scattered shell holes on the crest overlooking 
 the Ravine Aax Pierres. 
 
 At 7:00 the Boche laid a barrage of artillery and 
 then of machine guns and followed the latter closely 
 with a line of Infantry. The attack appeared to be 
 stronger against the 328th on our right ; but close in 
 front of "D" and "B" Companies the Boche placed 8 
 machine guns. Our outposts were held in their holes 
 by the intensity of the German fire. The enemy ad- 
 vance was not stopped by our own barrage which 
 was due to commence in about 15 minutes. 2nd Lieut. 
 T. W. Walker, of Co. "D," who was in an advanced 
 shell hole and was captured, gives his impression as 
 follows : 
 
 "About 7 o'clock Co. "D" was on the right of "B." 
 I was in a shell hole with a sergeant. The company 
 line was in rear of us. Machine gun fire kept us 
 hugging the ground. Suddenly the sergeant jumped 
 up and called out "Good God, Lieutenant, look what's 
 coming." Germans appeared on my right and left, 
 about 40 all told near me. One held a pistol on me 
 and ordered me to surrender. They had one machine 
 gun placed almost on my shell hole and were firing it 
 past me. The Germans motioned to me to step over 
 it, which I did. I was compelled to assist a wounded 
 German down the slope to the Ravine. On my right 
 I could see many more Germans and a crew of Amer- 
 icans being compelled to pull a gun on wheels down 
 toward the Ravine. Our barrage had not started. 
 When it did open the Germans had withdrawn and 
 thereafter kept moving away from it and did not suf- 
 fer from it. They made me cairy a stretcher about 
 six kilometers until about 3 p. m. I counted about 45 
 Americans in my immediate party. We were con- 
 ducted to Montmedy and then to Carlsruhe, then to 
 Villigon and were finally returned after the Armistice 
 via Switzerland." 
 
 The line of Co.'s "B" and "D" retired under this 
 
222 ■ ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 attack to the Saint-Juvin-Saint- Georges road. The 
 telephone of 1st Battalion was working and at 
 7:15 information was received from Capt. Castle, 
 Commanding, which was at once transmitted to Com- 
 manding General, 163rd Brigade: 
 
 "15th Oct., 7:20. First Battalion reports 328th 
 Inf. fell back during night without notice.' The Bat- 
 talion is being attacked now on our right flank which 
 was exposed. Castle is being pushed back. 
 
 Whitman/' 
 
 He replied : "8 :29. Do not push your people too far 
 ahead of troops on your right. 
 
 Austin-1." 
 
 The Support Battalion was thrown in to stiffen the 
 line and one company of the Division Reserve was 
 ordered to reinforce Castle's right. Before this last 
 company started the line was restored and this order 
 revoked. Meanwhile the Support Battalion was com- 
 mitted to the action. Prompt action by Capt. Taylor 
 with "A" and "C" Companies on Castle's right broke 
 up the Boche line and they retired as quickly as they 
 had advanced. In 15 minutes they had gone, leaving 
 7 machine guns and 9 prisoners in our hands. 
 
 "H" hour had now passed and our barrage which 
 started at 7:25 had gone on and ceased. The lines 
 advanced to the crest north of the road but could go 
 no further. Heavy and continuous machine gun fire 
 from front and both flanks held us on the crest. The 
 report of operations Oct. 15th state? tne situation as 
 follows : "In accordance with F. O. 25, the Division 
 continued the attack this morning, got off on time, 
 but after a short advance was compelled to halt on 
 account of left and right Divisions being unable to 
 advance." During the afternoon the attack was 
 pushed again and the Ravine Anx Pierres reached. 20 
 machine guns and some prisoners were taken. The 
 Ravine was so thoroughly swept by enemy fire, that 
 the troops withdrew again to the crest north of the 
 main road and dug in for the night. The men were 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 223 
 
 now nearly at the point of exhaustion from lack of 
 sleep and from constant exposure to the cold and 
 rain. The C. O. 1st Battalion reported his effectives 
 as 7 officers and 125 men;' the C. O. 3rd Battalion 
 reported 3 officers and 175 men. The night found us 
 dug in along the road. 
 
 Our Machine Gun Company had been detached and 
 sent to Hill 182 North of Saint-Juvin. The Boche 
 still held the West side of that town. An enemy at- 
 tack against the town from the North was completely 
 routed by the Company, without any Infantry as- 
 sistance. Capt. Williams reported his Company alone 
 in this exposed position all day. He won his D. S. C. 
 here for the rescue of an American from five armed 
 Germans. He dropped three with his pistol, wrested 
 the rifle from the fourth, while the fifth Boche ran 
 away. This was a real wild west show. He then ran 
 his guns forward and spent a profitable day killing 
 Boche who were filtering out of Saint-Juvin toward 
 Champignuelles. He claims 200. 
 
 Casualties Oct. 15th: 
 
 Killed. 
 1st Lieut. Thomas L. Bolster. 
 
 Wounded. 
 1st Lieut. W. P. Whelchel. 
 1st Lieut. Fred S. Laubert. 
 2nd Lieut. Wilbert Moore. 
 2nd Lieut. Fred S. Trumbull. 
 
 Oct. 16th. During the night orders were received 
 for another attack by the First Army at 6 hours. The 
 78th Division was to attack on our left and the 42nd 
 on our right. We were to conform to the movement 
 of the 78th. Our 2nd Battalion was placed under the 
 orders of the Brigade Commander to capture Cham- 
 pignuelles. His orders for this operation are shown 
 further on. The 2nd Battalion of the 326th was given 
 to the 325th and placed in support. The 3rd Bat- 
 talion was to pass through the line of the 1st Battalion 
 
224 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 and form the attacking line. At H-hour the movement 
 started. In spite of severe machine gun resistance we 
 succeeded in pushing the left of our line into the 
 Ravine Aux Pierres. The units that reached the rav- 
 ine were Co/s "K" and "L." Our right was unable 
 to advance and the troops were driven back from the 
 Ravine. An artillery barrage was called for to assist 
 the advance but it fell short. The following messages 
 show the progress of the action : 
 
 "From : 3rd Bn. 9 :20. 
 
 "Left and center of front line in Ravine Aux Pier- 
 res at 98.0-86.8 to about 98.5-87.0. The right of our 
 line is just South of the Ravine held up by M. G. fire 
 from right flank. Troops on our right reported not 
 advancing. Our second line is just North of road 
 from Saint-Juvin to Saint-Georges. Our 3rd line is 
 500 meters further to rear. 
 
 Melton/' 
 
 "Later. Report that 326th has fallen back to Saint- 
 Juvin-Saint-Georges road, leaving left flank of 325th 
 unprotected and 94 kilometers ahead and subjected to 
 fire. Urge immediate action to save Command from 
 destruction. 
 
 Melton/' 
 
 14:20. Lieut. Col. Campbell reports that front 
 lines are in shell holes 1/3 of distance between road 
 and Ravine. 
 
 The following message from Division Hdqrs. is 
 significant : 
 
 "From Captain Morgan, to: Austin 1, 16th Oct. 
 
 "Am informed that 42nd Division not only did not 
 receive orders to attack today but were ordered by the 
 Army not to attack. Also that one regiment of the 
 78th Division did not receive the order to attack until 
 10 o'clock this morning." 
 
 The 82nd Division seemed always to be in a salient. 
 
 The situation is depicted by Lieut. Col. Campbell 
 from the front line in the following message : 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 225 
 
 "16th Oct. To: Austin-1. 
 
 "Came out through vicious barrage. All over now. 
 M. G. fire coming over, not bad. Varnado killed. Es- 
 timate less than 250 in both battalions remaining fit 
 for duty. Counter attack by enemy would be bad. 
 Lines as stated by phone. Am not a calamity howler, 
 but the officers and men are all in. Jones in good 
 position as reserve but of course no shelter from ele- 
 ments. Will get Melton and Castle together and or- 
 ganize. Will move Jones back slightly, and put Mel- 
 ton in support with his battalion less than 100. Castle 
 with 1st Battalion and Cozine to hold line of road and 
 have advanced parties in shell holes in front 200 yards. 
 Am starting this now, execution of same to be made 
 
 at dark. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 Conditions were now bad. The Chauchat rifles 
 were all out of working order. Enemy planes flew 
 over our lines and directed harassing fire upon us. 
 
 The effective strength at nightfall was reported as 
 follows : 
 
 1st Battalion 5 Officers 175 men 
 
 3rd Battalion 3 Officers 120 men 
 
 2nd Battalion 17 Officers 361 men 
 
 Captain Varnado was rendered unconscious by a 
 bursting shell and was left in the ravine for dead. 
 Five days later he was rescued by our advancing lines. 
 He had a spark of life left and he eventually recov- 
 ered. 
 
 Going back to the operation of the 2nd Battalion 
 which had been detached from the Regiment on ac- 
 count of its strength, the orders given to it were as 
 follows : 
 
 "From: Austin-1, to: C. O. 2nd Battalion, 325th 
 Inf. 
 
 u 16th Oct. You will advance with your battalion 
 and establish a line from Champignuelles exclusive to 
 points 97.3-87.4 South East to 98.0-86.3 connecting 
 on your right with first battalion 326th Inf. The 
 
226 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 principal left position will be in the hollow 97.3-87.3 
 and other positions in the Ravine will be taken along 
 the Western slopes between the mouth of the Ravine 
 South East to the end of your line. 
 
 "You will advance one company at a time at long 
 distances, keeping pace with the 78th Division on our 
 left. Your movement is designed to protect right 
 flank of the 78th from the east side of the valley of 
 the Agron. You will not advance to your Northern 
 limit unless protected from counter attack from 
 Champignuelles either because Champignuelles is in 
 American hands or the ground prevents counter at- 
 tack from that direction. 
 
 By Command Gen. Cronin. 
 
 This movement was started but was checked by 
 enemy M. G. fire from Champignuelles and the ad- 
 jacent heights. When the assault line had advanced 
 500 meters North of our front line the Brigade Com- 
 mander ordered a withdrawal. 
 
 The 2nd Battalion, 326th was during the night 
 moved to our front line, relieving the 1st Battalion 
 325th. The Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road was now 
 accepted as our front line with out-posts formed on 
 the crest to the North. 
 
 The following Officers were casualties during the 
 day: 
 
 Wounded. 
 Capt. Samuel Varnado. 
 Capt. W. O. Marshburn. 
 1st Lieut. J. D. Deramus. 
 
 Our M. G. Co. was moved back to South slope of 
 ridge 85.5 and put under command of C. O. Machine 
 gun Battalion. 
 
 Oct. 17th. No attack was ordered and no demon- 
 stration was made by the enemy. 
 
 The following Officer was killed during the day: 
 
 1st Lieut. George McCord. 
 Our M. G. Co. was moved back to Saint- Juvin from 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 227 
 
 which position it covered the movement of troops in 
 the advance. 
 
 Oct. 18th. The attack of the First Army was re- 
 sumed at 6:30. The 82nd Division was to support 
 and protect right flank of the 78th Division. Cham- 
 pignuelles was to be gassed. Harassing fire was exe- 
 cuted along the front. In the 163rd Brigade the line 
 between the 325th and 326th was Meridian 97.3. 
 This Regiment occupied the right half of the sector 
 with following arrangement of Battalions 500 meters 
 apart : 
 
 2nd Battalion 326th. 
 
 3rd Battalion 325th. 
 
 1st Battalion 325th. 
 
 The shift to accomplish this was completed by 5 
 hours Oct. 18th. No advance was made in our lines. 
 Patrols were sent out to watch the front. Our 2nd 
 Battalion which was acting with 326th Infantry re- 
 lieved the 1st Battalion 309th Inf. in Saint-Juvin and 
 maintained liaison with 78th Division in Bois-de- 
 Loges. 
 
 Our M. G. Co. was put in Brigade Reserve and re- 
 mained in that status until Oct. 21st. 
 
 Oct. 19th. No change. 
 
 The following Officer was wounded this date and 
 died soon afterward : 
 
 2nd Lieut. Joseph L. Lang. 
 
 Oct. 20th. The position was wired during the night 
 North of the main road. The 2nd Battalion, 326th 
 passed out of command of C. O. 325th and went into 
 Brigade Reserve. Jts place was taken by our 3rd 
 Battalion. Our 2nd Battalion returned to the Regi- 
 ment and was placed in reserve on ridge 85.5. Our 
 1st Battalion then supported the leading Battalion at 
 about 500 meters in rear. 
 
 The following Officers were wounded during the 
 day: 
 
 1st Lieut. Charles C. Bettes. 
 2nd Lieut. Fred E. Hoffman. 
 
228 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Oct. 21st. Co. "A" under Lieut. Ulmer was or- 
 dered to seize the Ravine Aux-Pierres and the slope to 
 the north thereof and to explore the ground to North 
 East of this Ravine and the adjacent woods. Move- 
 ment to start at 6-hours. The progress of this com- 
 pany is best told by Lieut, (now Capt.) Ulmer as 
 follows : 
 
 "The company had one officer and 40 men left of 
 an original strength of 4 officers and 220 men. These 
 40 men were practically dead from exhaustion and 
 sickness. When the company reached its objective, 
 there were but eleven men left; the others having 
 succumbed to fatigue. The spirit was willing but the 
 flesh was weak. After reaching the high ground 
 North of Ravine Aux-Pierrcs the Battalion comman- 
 der was notified and the rest of the Battalion brought 
 up. A new line was consolidated and wired, and 
 nothing further of interest occurred, except the sys- 
 tem of regular two day reliefs." 
 
 This exploitation operation was protected by M. G. 
 fire and artillery fire of 12 guns, commencing at 5 :30 
 on North slope of the Ravine. This fire was raised at 
 6 hours and continued untir 7. Both flanks of the 
 Company were covered by patrols. 
 
 The situation as reported at 4 P. M. by Lieut. Col. 
 Campbell is best shown by his cheery message to 
 Whitman : 
 
 "Oct 21st. 
 
 "I gave "D" Co. back to Castle at his request. Phones 
 all out, please try to get them in. Everything lovely 
 so far. Pretty heavy shelling. Will stick around 
 for an hour or so and mosey back. Castle is driving 
 this thing in good style. M. G. positions being recon- 
 noitered and I think everything O. K. if 326 will look 
 out for left. 
 
 Campbell/'' 
 
 Nothing further of interest occurred and no at- 
 tacks called for up to Oct. 31st on which date the 
 Division left the sector and the 325th passed into 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 229 
 
 Corps Reserve, being relieved by battalions of the 
 80th and 77th Divisions. 
 
 On Oct. 26th the following was reported. 
 
 "To C. O. 163rd Brigade. 
 
 "The C. O. 1st Battalion reported at 16:10 hours 
 2 planes firing with Machine Guns on his position 
 along Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road. These planes 
 were clearly marked with U. S. insignia and were num- 
 bered 2 and 17. At 16:15 hours similar report was 
 received from C. O. 3rd Battalion that same 2 planes 
 fired on his front line in position North of Ravine 
 Anx-Pierres. From observation point near Regi- 
 mental P. C. these planes were seen firing tracer bul- 
 lets. The planes were later seen retiring in a South- 
 erly direction. Request prompt investigation and 
 
 proper action. ,, r „ 
 
 r r Whitman. 
 
 Our work in the front line was now over. During 
 the night of Oct. 31st we withdrew to the Argonne 
 Forest as reserve. From there we fell back by short 
 stages to Neufour, Pagny-la-Blanche-C ote , Soulacourt 
 and other towns to reorganize our shattered forces. 
 On the march back we heard on Nov. 11th of the 
 armistice. It was with intense relief that we received 
 this news. The 325th had done its bit nobly and had 
 come through the greatest war in the world's history 
 much reduced in numbers but conscious that it had 
 played no mean part in the struggle for human liberty 
 and in the suppression of the selfish and ambitious 
 schemes of the most powerful military nation that the 
 world has ever seen. When the work of the peace 
 commission is finally concluded we will return to the 
 homeland and to the resumption of the duties in 
 civilian life that we left to answer the call to arms. 
 All of us that have survived will be better fitted physi- 
 cally and morally to do our part, in our country, in 
 the development of the high ideals for which we have 
 fought in France. 
 
 W. M. WHITMAN, 
 Colonel 325th Infantry. 
 
230 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 HQ. 82D DIV., AMERICAN E. F., FRANCE 
 
 13 January 1919. 
 GENERAL ORDERS 
 NO. 1: 
 
 1. The Commanding General announces to the 
 Command the splendid conduct of the following 
 officers and soldiers in action against the enemy as 
 described after their respective names: 
 
 EXTRACT 
 Sgt. Victor 1897348 Vigorito, Co. A, 325th Infantry. 
 
 On October 15, 1918, near ST. JUVIN, FRANCE, 
 Sgt. Vigorito, with great bravery and devotion to duty, 
 refused to leave his platoon, altho severely wounded, 
 and continued to fight until an enemy counter-attack 
 had been repulsed ; and, by this fine example, en- 
 couraged the men of his platoon to greater effort. 
 
 2. The Commanding General takes particular pride 
 in announcing to the Command these fine examples of 
 courage and self-sacrifice. Such deeds are evidence 
 of that spirit of heroism which is innate in the highest 
 type of the American soldier and responds unfailingly 
 to the call of duty, wherever or whenever it may come. 
 
 3. This order will be read to all organizations at 
 the first formation after its receipt. 
 
 By Command of MAJOR GENERAL DUNCAN : 
 
 Gordon Johnston, 
 OFFICIAL: Chief of Staff. 
 
 R. L. Boyd, 
 
 Major, A.G.D., Adjutant. 
 
 Editor's Note. — At this place Vigorito ended his 
 story. There is more of it that needs to be told for 
 him. 
 
 Vigorito was wounded in charging a machine gun 
 nest. Of the bit of action the Brooklyn Daily Eagle 
 of February 11, 1918, in an article about this soldier, 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 231 
 
 quotes him as saying: "I remember our commander 
 shouting 'Don't bunch up, boys.' 
 
 "Sergeant O'Brien of the first platoon was easily the 
 first man to reach it from the front, and he threw a 
 grenade. Sergeant Orr of the third platoon attacked 
 from the right, and I, with the faithful Fourth, at- 
 tacked from the left. Although we captured this im- 
 portant position, it was at this spot, Sergeant Orr was 
 killed, Sergeant O'Brien and myself wounded. 
 
 "Our commanding officer, still thoughtful of his 
 men, quickly bandaged my wound, as he beckoned for 
 the Germans we had captured, to proceed to the rear. 
 I ran over to my men, although T was ordered to the 
 dressing station for treatment. I don't remember what 
 happened after this, as I fainted from loss of blood." 
 
SERGEANT MICHAEL DONALDSON 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 233 
 
 XII 
 
 THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
 
 STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
 ENGINEERS, ETC. 
 
 Sergeant Michael Donaldson 
 
 Bom in Haverstraw, moved to New York City. Enlisted in 
 69th Regiment July 13, 1917. Overseas with Regiment. Pro- 
 moted for bravery. Awarded Distinguished Service Cross. 
 Croix de Guerre zvith palm, Medaille Militaire and recom- 
 mended for Congressional Medal of Honor. A tribute to 
 Father Duffy. 
 
 His Own Story 
 
 HONORABLE DISCHARGE FROM THE 
 UNITED STATES ARMY 
 
 To All Whom It May Concern : 
 
 THIS IS TO CERTIFY, That Michael A. Don- 
 aldson, Sgt. Co. I., 165th Infantry, THE UNITED 
 STATES ARMY, as a Testimonial of Honest and 
 Faithful Service, is hereby Honorably Discharged 
 from the military service of the United States bv 
 reason of Circular 106 W. D., 1918. 
 
 Said Michael A. Donaldson was born in Haver- 
 straw, in the State of New York. When he enlisted 
 he was 30 2/12 years of age and by occupation a 
 boxing instructor. 
 
 He had Blue eyes, Brown hair, Fair complexion, and 
 was 5 feet 10 inches in height. 
 
 Given under my hand at Camp Dix, N. J., this 5th 
 day of May, one thousand nine hundred and nine- 
 teen. 
 
234 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 ENLISTMENT RECORD 
 
 Name : Michael A. Donaldson. Grade : Sergt. 
 
 Enlisted, July 13th, 1917, at New York, N. Y. 
 
 Serving in first enlistment period of date of discharge. 
 
 Prior service:* None. 
 
 Non-commissioned officer: Sergt. 
 
 Marksmanship, gunner qualification or rating: Not 
 qualified. 
 
 Horsemanship : Not mounted. 
 
 Battles, engagements, skirmishes, expeditions : Cham- 
 pagne, Marne Def. Oisne, Marne Def., Meuse, Ar- 
 gonne Off., St. Mehiel Off., Luneville Sec, Bac- 
 corat Sec, Fre de Vadenay Sec, Pannes Essy Sec, 
 Army of Occupation. 
 
 Knowledge of any vocation : Boxing instructor. 
 
 Wounds received in service : None. 
 
 Physical condition w T hen discharged : Good. 
 
 Typhoid Prophylaxis completed Sept. 1st, 1917. 
 
 Paratyphoid Prophylaxis completed Sept. 1st, 1917. 
 
 Married or single : Single. 
 
 CHARACTER: Excellent. 
 
 Remarks : Distinguished Service Cross, Medaille 
 Militaire, Croix de Guerre, Served with Co. I., 165th 
 Inf. from July 13th, 1917, to date of Dischg. Pro- 
 moted for bravery. Served in France and Germany. 
 
 A.W.O.L. from 8-12-18 to 9-15-18. 
 
 Signature of soldier. 
 
 My name is Michael A. Donaldson. I was born in 
 Haverstraw, N. Y., on May 6th, 1887. About six 
 years ago I came to New York City. On July 13th, 
 1917, I enlisted in the Sixty-ninth Infantry, Co. I., 
 under the late Major James A. McKenna, Jr. The 
 day after war was declared I had volunteered to fight 
 for my country, and telegraphed to President Wilson. 
 He sent me a card thanking me for the offer of my 
 services. 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 235 
 
 I trained at Camp Mills and went overseas by way 
 of Montreal on the good ship "Tunisian," which was 
 sunk on the return trip to Halifax, Nova Scotia, by a 
 German torpedo. Landed at Liverpool, and remained 
 in England for a day; then crossed the English 
 Channel on the "Londonderry" to La Havre, France. 
 We stayed at Havre two days, and then entrained for 
 Bouve, which is thirty kilos from the birthplace of 
 Joan of Arc. 
 
 Under command of the late Major McKenna, one 
 of the greatest leaders of men the world has ever 
 had, we trained for open warfare, and learned all 
 the tricks of the Boche. We remained there for three 
 weeks, building rifle ranges, and devoting some time 
 to bayonet practice. Then we started on the famous 
 four-day hike to the ancient city of La Grande, 
 France.' This was one of the world's most famous 
 hikes, made through snow and sleet. 
 
 We remained at Bouve until Christmas Day, and 
 then went to Hennilly Cotton, from where we went to 
 Langau. There began our strenuous training for in- 
 troduction to the trenches. Col. Wm. J. Donovan 
 of our regiment, was in command as Major at that 
 time. Major McKenna was then a captain, and that 
 soldier of soldiers, Rev. Francis P. Duffy, one of 
 God's noblest men, gave us a 50-50 heart to heart talk 
 on playing the game as American soldiers should. 
 
 He was with us in all our trials and weary marches, 
 the dreary days in the trenches, when it seemed next 
 to impossible that we would ever come out alive, and 
 by his example, his brave understanding, comradeship 
 and his great spirituality, he breathed the fire of life 
 into the soul of the Sixty-ninth. 
 
 To Father Duffy, perhaps more than to any other 
 one man, just and generous recognition is due for the 
 splendid work which the Sixty-ninth Regiment wrote 
 into the military history of the United States Army. 
 
 I never will forget the day of my first baptism of 
 fire from the black-skulled Huns. It was at Lune- 
 ville, where the Sixty-ninth first came under fire. 
 
236 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 Captain McKenna was in Co. D at that time, the first 
 company of our regiment to go into action for democ- 
 racy against Prussian militarism. 
 
 We came up in the morning about nine o'clock into 
 an innocent looking woods, from the outside, but what 
 a devilish place it proved to be when once we were in 
 it. About two o'clock in the afternoon, I was stand- 
 ing beside Lieutenant Hally Crimmins and Sergeant 
 Gainey of Co. D. We were near an outpost, when the 
 Boche tossed over one of their Austrian 88's, and 
 struck a small shanty about ten feet away from where 
 we were standing, hitting and wounding Corporal 
 Lyons and Private Thayer. They followed that up 
 with a vindictive bombardment, and we were all ner- 
 vous for the time being, but never a man backed an 
 inch. We stayed where we were put, because we had 
 gone to France for that purpose : — to drive the Hun, 
 and not be driven by him. 
 
 We finally entered the trenches, took over the sec- 
 tor, and then the fun began. This was in the win- 
 ter, February 27th. 
 
 Now just get what that means. Long zig-zagging 
 trenches whose parapets were swept by machine-gun 
 fire and combed by German snipers. The trenches, 
 themselves, knee deep in mud, and sometimes worse 
 than that. The little dugouts provided for the shelter 
 of the men from shell fire, alive with vermin, walls 
 damp, and floors muddy. The weather was a com- 
 bination of snow and rain, so that between the two, 
 we knew about the sum of human misery. 
 
 It was our first experience, but the steel was in our 
 hearts and the gallant example of our officers sup- 
 ported us through these first awful hours. I cannot 
 say too much about the splendid discipline of our 
 men. For after all, we expected the officers to be 
 brave and uncomplaining, but the great miracle was 
 the behavior of the boys themselves, the intelligent 
 bravery of these men who had volunteered to live or 
 die, that the cause of right might triumph. We knew 
 that we had to buy victory with human agony and 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 237 
 
 the blood of our best men, we were there to pay the 
 price, and pay we did, but don't forget that the Boche 
 paid in full for all that we went through. 
 
 On March 8th, we came out from our first experi- 
 ences on the line, sure of ourselves, for we had the 
 Boche's number, and we knew that man for man we 
 were better than he was. As we were going out of 
 the lines, we met the 149th Artillery from Chicago, 
 which had been behind us when we were in the 
 trenches. One of the boys called to me : 
 
 "How do you feel, Mike?" 
 
 "Splendid," said I, "and I'll tell you Chicago fel- 
 lows something, that the Sixty-ninth will walk into 
 hell, with a smile and a cigarette, as long as the good 
 old 149th Artillery is behind us with their guns." 
 
 I'll tell you something, a lot of credit wants to be 
 given to these Chicago boys of the 149th Artillery, who 
 had come out of civil life, the same as the rest of us 
 had, and in so short a time learned to handle their 
 guns so well, that the Hun himself knew a special 
 high-powered, new fangled kind of hell had been 
 brought over from America, whenever he found the 
 Sixty-ninth in the line with the guns of the 149th 
 barking at their heels. 
 
 Some time after this, along in April, we did our 
 second hitch in the trenches; this was at Montigny in 
 the Baccarat sector, and an awful place that sector 
 was. I have seen articles in the paper which referred 
 to it as a "rest sector" and "training sector," but I'll 
 tell New York and the World that it was a darned 
 poor place to work, for they sure did keep me busy. 
 
 There I had some very interesting experiences, 
 when Captain McKenna sent Lieutenant Edw. Con- 
 nolly, Sergeant Tom O'Malley and myself to what 
 he described, with a twinkle in his eye as "a quiet 
 listening post." 
 
 I'll tell you just about how quiet it was. The sec- 
 ond day, while I was doing a twelve hour shift, the 
 hour before dawn, which is the lonesomest hour in 
 the world to a soldier in the face of the enemy, the 
 
238 ECHOES FROM OYER THERE 
 
 very time when men's spirits are lowest, and life it- 
 self seems to hang by but a thread, when one is mind- 
 ful that the lives of hundreds of his comrades, the 
 reputation of the regiment, and the troops of his 
 country are in his hands. 
 
 My instructions that night from Lieutenant Con- 
 nolly were, "Look out for mustard gas !" 
 
 Just in front of my post, where Corporal Tex 
 Baker, of Co. B, Sixty-ninth, was killed, the German 
 snipers had a camouflaged position from which they 
 were firing on the intermediate post. A fellow named 
 Matthews pegged a few back. That set me a-going, 
 and, forgetting that on my listening post I should 
 keep myself concealed, I took the chance of giving 
 them a few on my own account. 
 
 Believe me, I started something then. 
 
 What followed, was the greatest razzle-dazzle I 
 was ever in. I fired 280 rounds before I stopped. 
 You could have broiled a steak on the barrel of my 
 old Springfield; but I'll say this was a quiet sector 
 after that, and perhaps that is the time that the news- 
 paper correspondents saw it and wrote about it. 
 
 Of course, the Germans did not publish their casu- 
 alty lists, but if anyone could get hold of the records 
 of the German war office for that day, they would find 
 that the German clerks worked overtime that night, 
 while when the Sixty-ninth counted off, we were all 
 present and accounted for. I well remember the quiet 
 smile on Major McKenna's face when we met as I 
 came back from that row. I heard it said that Mc- 
 Kenna only smiles once in a while. It was also re- 
 ported that when the Colonel told Father Duffy about 
 it, the corners of the Father's mouth turned up. 
 
 The next big days of duty in which the Sixty-ninth 
 figured, were in the Champagne-Marne fighting. It 
 was at Chalons sur Marne on July 15th that the Boche 
 really found out just what we had to offer. 
 
 You will recall, from what you have read of the 
 war in France, that the Germans had broken through 
 the French front and advanced through the lines at 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 239 
 
 one place across the Marne, while at Chateau-Thierry, 
 their advance was only thirty-five miles from Paris. 
 
 They had brought up and put in place their big 
 Berthas with which they intended to bombard Paris. 
 The capture of Chalons was the first thing to be done. 
 
 Here we had a real chance at that open style of war- 
 fare which Americans like, and at which we have no 
 equals in the world, unless perhaps it be the fellows 
 from Canada and Australia, who think as we do. Our 
 guests on this day were the famous Prussian guards, 
 the finest fighting men in the German army, here was 
 their introduction to us, and ours to them. We had 
 been looking for them for some time, and when we 
 met it was a case of Greek meeting Greek. They had 
 been told that the Americans were in front of them, 
 and that nothing would do so much to hasten the 
 German victory as to wipe out the Americans, and 
 there wasn't a boy in the Sixty-ninth who didn't know 
 that the rougher we treated the Prussian guards, the 
 quicker would the war be over. 
 
 What we did to the Prussian guards created a scan- 
 dal in the Royal family that day, and the Crown 
 Prince got lock-jaw trying to explain to the Kaiser 
 why it was that the wild Irishmen of the Sixty-ninth 
 had failed to surrender to the son of the All-highest. 
 
 Iowa and Alabama were in the line that day, along 
 with the Sixty-ninth, and Ohio as well. But the 
 Prussian guards, as they advanced to attack our lines, 
 passed these other Americans and struck at the Sec- 
 ond Battalion of the Sixty-ninth, under the com- 
 mand of Major Anderson and Capt. Johnny Proutt. 
 There was joy in the hearts of the Sixty-ninth as they 
 saw themselves singled out by the flower of the Hun 
 army for this delicate attention. 
 
 The Germans advanced in mass formation, filled 
 with the idea that they were going to walk over the 
 Irish and head a triumphal march to Paris. 
 
 The old 149th Artillery was laying "doggo" back 
 of our line and had their guns trained on the ap- 
 proaching Huns. 
 
240 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 The Second Battalion held its fire; the guns were 
 silent; the Germans swept on with rising spirits to 
 what looked like an easy victory. 
 
 But, oh boy ! we could almost see the whites of 
 their eyes when the 149th Artillery sent them a card 
 with the compliments of Bath-House John. The card 
 consisted of a squall of shrapnel, in which the guns 
 crossed their fire, and to the accompaniment of the 
 deep bass of the guns, the infantry of the Rainbows 
 opened up from all flanks. It sure was some righting. 
 The Rye Loaves danced on the barb-wire in front of 
 the position for seven kilos, looking like dancing mar- 
 ionettes in the Punch and Judy show. 
 
 Of course, the Hun got his taste of our blood, for 
 the Sixty-ninth alone reported some 138 casualties, 
 but the ground before us was carpeted with the dead 
 of the Prussian guard, which had its ranks shot to 
 pieces and its morale broken, as the result of this first 
 encounter with the American boys. 
 
 This was the turning point of the war. The mili- 
 tary action in this battle was decisive, in the way the 
 German morale was broken from the minute when the 
 Germany army had its best troops whipped by a few 
 Americans, who had dropped their business to take 
 up soldiering for the few months needed to finish the 
 job. Forty years of intensive military training was 
 behind the Boche, and scarcely as many weeks back 
 of the Yankees. 
 
 We left Champagne on July 18th for Vandenay in 
 the Chateau-Thierry sector, to finish the work which 
 the First, Second and Third Divisions had started. We 
 had lots of help, for it seemed that all the Americans 
 in France were headed our way. Just to keep our 
 fighting edge sharp while we were resting at Vande- 
 nay, the German fliers paid us a night visit. They 
 bombed us, and we had to take it, and it certainly 
 warmed us up for work that was ahead. 
 
 We entrained at St. Hillaire, and after two days 
 got off at Chateau-Thierry and hiked through the 
 rain, sleeping in the woods until on the night of the 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 241 
 
 27th of July, when we came under the heaviest bom- 
 bordment we ever experienced during the war. The 
 following morning we got orders to go "over the top." 
 
 We had to cross the Ourcq. The boys called it the 
 Red River, for the stream sure did run red with the 
 blood of fighting men during the battle at that place. 
 
 The first man to cross the river was Lieutenant 
 Patty Dowling, of Co. K of the Sixty-ninth, who gave 
 his life in the line of duty, when he led the men across 
 the stream. It was Co. I. of the Sixty-ninth, under 
 Major James A. McKenna, Jr., who commanded what 
 was known as the Shamrock battalion of the regi- 
 ment, that first crossed and maintained their position 
 on the far side of the Ourcq. 
 
 What a battle it was ! 
 
 It will always be embedded in my memory. How I 
 hate to recall it for so many of my friends and pals 
 paid the prire in full for our victory that day. 
 
 In this fight I was transferred from Co. I to Bat- 
 talion headquarters of Major McKenna, as the con- 
 fidential laison officer of the battalion. This was in 
 recognition of my work in previous engagements at 
 Luneville, Baccarat and Champagne, and I sure felt 
 it a great honor to hold so trusty a position under such 
 a brave and distinguished officer, for no war and no 
 army ever produced a better soldier than Major Mc- 
 Kenna. I'll never forget the wave of sorrow that 
 swept over me and the entire regiment when the word 
 went out that the gallant McKenna was dead. 
 
 He died as he would have wished, with his face 
 to the foe, in the midst of his men, cheering them 
 on, exposing himself while he directed them how to 
 cover themselves. It brings the tears to my eyes, even 
 yet, as it did on that day, when I think of the splendid 
 fellow he was and the noble way in which he died. 
 
 For this, too, the Germans paid in full, to the flaming 
 muzzles and the angry bayonets of the "Fighting 
 Irish." We wrote his epitaph in the German casualty 
 lists, and there it will remain. 
 
 The whole German line from Switzerland to the 
 
242 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 sea felt the weight of our charge across the Ourcq, 
 for it meant that the German lines of communication 
 in the Chateau-Thierry sector were cut, the strongest 
 positions this side of the Vesle River turned, while 
 the Hun was forced to a rapid retreat in which he 
 abandoned troops, wounded, machine-guns, ammuni- 
 tion, gathered for the great offensive against Paris. 
 
 It was the 69th that opened the door and held it 
 open for the invincible American Infantry to dash 
 through and gain their positions along the line of the 
 Vesle River. We were relieved after this battle, about 
 August 11th, and then went to the rear for replace- 
 ments, and God knows we needed them, for companies 
 had been reduced to squads and battalions to compan- 
 ies, while the regiment was reduced in strength. But 
 the soul of the 69th was stronger for the lives of the 
 men who had fought, and the new men who came to 
 us quickly gained the spirit of the "Fighting Irish," 
 and we were soon ready to do our bit in the first All- 
 American offensive at St. Mihiel on September 12th. 
 
 St. Mihiel was a foot race more than it was a fight. 
 Our artillery once more distinguished itself. The 
 149th Artillery from Chicago was there, and it must 
 have done their hearts good, when they saw how easy 
 for us the whaling they gave the so-called impregnable 
 German positions, made the going for us. 
 
 It may seem strange, when you read about this ter- 
 rible war, that I went through this fight without even 
 getting a chance to fire a shot. We ran our feet raw, 
 trying to keep up with the retreating Germans. We 
 did not fire our guns though we took "kancouf" pris- 
 oners, and gathered in German guns and military 
 equipment until we could not keep track of them, 
 while the German supplies with their stores of fine 
 German beer and wine, furnished us an elaborate menu 
 for the celebration of the victory, which the 69th and 
 the 149th Inf. pulled off with a grand barrage of 
 popping corks. 
 
 After St. Mihiel, our next fight was in the Argonne 
 Forest. There I began to reap a harvest of decora- 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 243 
 
 tions. There came to me the American D. S. C, 
 French Medaille Militaire, the Croix de Guerre with a 
 palm, and also a recommendation for the greatest dec- 
 oration in the world, the American Congressional 
 Medal of Honor. 
 
 The Medaille Militaire is the highest French deco- 
 ration to enlisted men, and carries the face of the 
 saintly Toan of Arc, who seemed to be with us as we 
 fought for that France that she loved so well. 
 
 The fighting in the Argonne and the taking of Hill 
 288 at Landres St. George, called for all the experience 
 and valor that was in a man. But we did the job and 
 did it right, though it cost us the lives of many brave 
 fellows. . 
 
 That was a time when we went to battle tired and 
 hungry, for we were fighting and not feeding, and ac- 
 cording to the old American fashion we went hungry 
 when we fought, because, as the late Major McKenna 
 used to say, "An Irishman fights better on an empty 
 stomach." 
 
 During these trying days we were greatly cheered 
 by the presence of Father Duffy, and the re-appear- 
 ance of his assistant, Father Joseph Hanley, of Cleve- 
 land, Ohio, who had been hit at the Ourcq, but got up 
 in time for the wind-up, and to be decorated with the 
 D. S. C. Father Hanlev was another great favorite 
 of the boys. He was a real fighting man and the army 
 missed a great captain when Hanley went into the 
 priesthood, but he certainly made it up as he cheered 
 us through those bloody days. In the fighting in the 
 forest around Hill 288, we lost Captain Mike Walsh, 
 of Co. I, and in the fighting around that hill, prac- 
 tically all of the Old 69th were killed or wounded. 
 
 Here, we were fighting what was left of the Prus- 
 sian Guards, and the best sharp-shooters the German 
 army could muster were against us once more, with 
 orders to shoot the 69th to death. But you cannot kill 
 a regiment ; replacements came in and we still carried 
 on, and the souls of the men who had fallen marched 
 with us against the foe. 
 
244 ECHOES FRO MOVER THERE 
 
 We finished the war before the city of Sedan, where 
 we halted our advance to allow the French to have 
 the honor of marching first into this city of such great 
 historic significance to them. After the signing of the 
 Armistice, we hiked to St. Marie, Belgium, and then 
 crossed the line at Bollondorf, Germany, in December 
 to become part of the American Army of Occupation. 
 We went to Remagen on the Rhine, and returned to 
 the U. S. this spring. 
 
 COMPANY "A," 325th INFANTRY 
 December 20, 1918 
 
 From : CO. Co. "A," 325th Infantry. 
 To: CO. 325th Infantry. 
 
 Subject: History of Company "A," 325th Infantry, 
 Meuse-Argonne Operations. 
 
 Company "A" first took an active part in the ad- 
 vance on October 10th, when the first Battalion jumped 
 from the ridge northwest of Chatel Chehery with its 
 objective the ridges west and northwest of Cornay. 
 
 We were in the support, following Company "C" at 
 300 yards. When the objective was reached "A" Com- 
 pany sent out two platoons whose mission was to ad- 
 vance to the Ayre River and there establish outposts 
 for the night. At noon that day these platoons reached 
 the high ground southeast of Marcq and were there 
 held up by intense Artillery fire of both the enemy 
 and our own forces. The two remaining platoons, 
 stayed on the objective until late that night, when they 
 were sent out as patrols to the Ayre River to seek for 
 suitable fords or crossing places. 
 
 At 3:00 o'clock on the morning of October 11th, 
 the Company was recalled to the ridge Northwest of 
 Cornay and proceeded from there through Cornay to 
 Fleville, through Fleville up the Fleville-St. Juvin 
 Road until it reached the junction of the Fleville-Som- 
 merance Road. It was then approximately 7 :00 o'clock 
 and the entire Battalion rested, in combat group for- 
 mations in the open field west of the road. Toward 
 
ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 245 
 
 noon we were taken up the Fleville-Sommerance road, 
 but as we proceeded along the road we met the 327th 
 Infantry withdrawing over the hills from Sommer- 
 ance, making it impossible to go further. We retraced 
 our steps and then went up toward St. Juvin. At the 
 Junction of the Fleville- Juvin Road and the Sommer- 
 ance-St. Juvin Road, the Company Commander, Cap- 
 tain L. L. Battey, was killed. The second in command 
 received the order to "Take that hill," the hill north 
 of the Sommerance-St. Juvin Road being indicated. 
 The attack was to start at 14:30 hours, although it 
 was then 14:35. Arriving at the jumping off place, it 
 was found that "L" Company was on our left, and no 
 one at all on our right. Nor were there any supports. 
 The crest of the hill, our objective, was taken, but 
 due to our own Artillery falling short we had to with- 
 draw below the crest. That night, the 327th came up 
 and connected with our right flank. 
 
 The next day, October 12th, the line was reorgan- 
 ized. "A" Company was in the right front position, 
 with Company "D" on its left, the 327th on our right, 
 and Company "C" in support. We remained in this 
 position until the 14th. On October 13th, at 16:00 
 hours, the enemy counter-attacked but were driven off. 
 
 On October 14th, at 10:00 o'clock, we again ad- 
 vanced, the formation being still the same ; this Com- 
 pany on the right front with Company "D" on its left. 
 Company "C" in support, following at 300 yards, and 
 the 328th, which had relieved the 327th on our right. 
 Severe resistance was encountered at 86.3, 99.3, but 
 this was quickly overcome, this company capturing 
 many prisoners, which were all the prisoners taken by 
 the Regiment that day, and a number of machine guns. 
 The advance that day continued until we reached the 
 high ground north of the Landres-St. Georges-St. 
 Juvin Road, just south of the Ravine Au Pierre. It 
 was utterly impossible to go farther, because the 328th 
 had failed to come up on our right, and we were sub- 
 ject to murderous flanking fire, both machine gun and 
 artillery. We had been in constant liaison with the 
 
246 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 328th, but found now that there was only one platoon 
 there, which had become separated from its Battalion 
 and which had advanced with us. 
 
 On the morning of October 15th, the enemy again 
 counter-attacked, and were again repulsed. They left 
 behind them many dead and eight machine guns. "A" 
 Company was still in the front line with Company 
 "C" in support, but we had suffered so severely that 
 we had to call for two platoons from our support to 
 reinforce us. 
 
 On the afternoon of the 15th, and the morning of 
 the 16th, the Third Battalion attacked. This Com- 
 pany in both instances was on the right of the support 
 Battalion, 500 yards in the rear of the attacking Bat- 
 talion. No advance was made on either occasion. 
 
 Company "A" remained in this position until Octo- 
 ber 21st, when it was detailed as an exploitation patrol 
 to penetrate into the Ravine Au Pierre and to estab- 
 lish itself on the high ground beyond. The objective 
 was reached about 7 :30, in spite of heavy machine 
 gun fire from the direction of St. Juvin, and concen- 
 trated trench-mortar fire in the Ravine. A new line 
 was consolidated and wired north of Au Pierre, with 
 Company "A" on the right, Company "C" on the left, 
 and the 328th on the right rear. There followed noth- 
 ing further of interest. A system of regular two-day 
 reliefs by Battalions was instituted, and we thus moved 
 in rotation, from front line to reserve, reserve to sup- 
 port, and from support back to the front line. At the 
 time the Regiment was relieved, we were in the reserve 
 
 position - Capt, 325th Inf., 
 
 Herman Ulmer, 
 Comd'g Co. "A." 
 
 The casualties of the 82nd Division in France were : 
 Killed and wounded, 8,800. Official estimate believed 
 to be too low. 
 
 The casualties of the 325th Infantry of the 82nd Di- 
 vision, were : Officers killed and wounded, 53 ; en- 
 listed men killed and wounded, 1,653; total, 1,706. 
 
ECHOES FRO M OVER THERE 247 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE SUMMARY OF 
 INTELLIGENCE 
 
 42nd Division, A. E. F. 
 March 31 to April 1, 1919 
 
 Miscellaneous 
 
 10. The relief of the 42nd Division from the Third 
 U. S. Army and its assignment to the S. O. S. for 
 transportation to America marks the close of the third 
 epoch in its career as a first line Division of the Allied 
 Armies. 
 
 Beginning in the latter part of February, 1918, the 
 Division was engaged in Sector warfare in Lorraine 
 for four months. During this time it occupied a front 
 once strongly organized, but which had been allowed 
 to fall into decay. Here the Division maintained com- 
 munications, dug and repaired trenches, made and re- 
 pelled raids, became accustomed to shell fire, under- 
 went two projector gas attacks of considerable severity 
 and found itself as a cohesive, self-reliant intersup- 
 porting fighting unit. 
 
 Trained and rendered ruggedly confident by this ex- 
 perience the Division embarked upon its second epoch. 
 It began its career as a Shock Division in the great 
 defensive battle against the Germans in Champagne 
 on July 15, 1918. In this, its first major action, the 
 Division took a splendid part in the bloody repulse in- 
 flicted by General Gourard's Fourth Army upon the 
 great offensive and earned the official and personal 
 commendation of the French Command. When the 
 German advance had been definitely and forever 
 checked in this battle the Division was moved overland 
 to the line above Chateau-Thierry where, relieving five 
 battered American and French Divisions it advanced 
 by desperate open fighting against choice German 
 troops a distance of 19^ kilometers. 
 
 Relieved and sent to the rear for rest and replace- 
 ments, the fighting at the front was so severe that the 
 Division could not be spared and was in a few days 
 
248 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 
 
 returned to the line to take part in the St. Mihiel 
 operation. After the Salient had ceased to exist, the 
 Division, pausing long enough to organize the front 
 on its new line, moved to the Argonne. Attacking first 
 on the front opposite St. Georges and Landres-et St. 
 Georges and there advancing until the First Army 
 made its pause for breath, the Division again attacked 
 and drove forward through countless obstacles of de- 
 fense and terrain until it was relieved at the Armistice 
 in the outskirts of Sedan, having gained somewhat 
 more than 19 kilometers. 
 
 From the area southeast of Sedan where the Divi- 
 sion lay on November 11th it entered its third epoch. 
 Marching overland through devastated country and 
 over roads rendered impassable by shell fire, mines, 
 rain and prodigious traffic it proceeded to Montmedy 
 whence it crossed Belgium, Luxemburg and that part 
 of Germany lying west of the Rhine until on December 
 15, it reached its present location after a march of 360 
 kilometers. The 42ncl Division has formed a part of 
 the Army of Occupation from the middle of November 
 until date and during its administration of Kreis 
 Ahrweiler the district has been law-abiding, prosperous 
 and friendly. 
 
 The 42nd Division proudly asserts that it has spent 
 more days in the face of the enemy, gained more 
 ground against the enemy and marched further in its 
 operations than any other Division in the American 
 Expeditionary Forces. It has been opposed by the 
 best Divisions in the German Army and has made its 
 record at their expense. Its fighting power has been 
 officially mentioned by the American, French and Ger- 
 man Commands, and its order and discipline have 
 elicited the admiration of the Germans in its area of 
 occupation. 
 
 By command of Brigadier General Gatley. 
 
 William H. Hughes, Jr. 
 Colonel, General Staff. 
 
 Chief of Staff. 
 
 W 88 
 

 
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