"«^ 
 
 
Cornell University Library 
 D 570.35 102nd.S41 
 
 3 1924 027 818 727 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027818727 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 102nd M. P, 
 
 Kai Schwensen 
 
Copyrighted, 1919 
 
 by 
 
 KAI SCHWENSEN 
 
MAJOR GENERAL JOHN F. O'RYAN 
 Commanding- 27th American Division 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 This book is dedicated to the officers and men of the 102nd 
 M. P. It does not pretend to be a literary masterpiece, nor a 
 military document of extreme value. It is just a simple, concise 
 report of our small unit's share in the great World War. 
 
 Outsiders might find that it contains many little things which 
 look insignificant, immaterial, even trivial. Doubtless they are 
 right. But doubtless, too, those very things mean the keynote to 
 our masonry while abroad, to all that which made life endurable. 
 
 The choice of a title had its difficulties, as we have survived 
 three names during our short existence. A little incident,, how- 
 ever, decided the question : 
 
 The 1 06th N. Y. Infantry is coming down the St. Calais road, 
 eating up the last couple of kilometers. At a crossroad they meet 
 two mounted M. P.'s. 
 
 The doughboys throw a searching glance at the men and 
 their armbands, then a couple of voices say : 
 
 "Hey, buddie, what outfit?" 
 
 "One Hundred and Second M. P. !" comes the answer. 
 
 "That's all right," drawl the perspiring infantrymen, seem- 
 ingly perfectly satisfied; "you fellows are O. K. !" 
 
 This little incident, we repeat, decided the choice: 102nd 
 M. P. is the name under which we are known, the name under 
 which we fought, the name under which we made our humble rep- 
 utation, under which we experienced all that which these notes^- 
 so we hope — will revive. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 April the 6th, 19 17, the United States declared war on Ger- 
 many. 
 
 The break came as the unavoidable conclusion of a chain of 
 impertinence and atrocities, which could have only one final result. 
 Nevertheless, probably nobody was more surprised than the Ger- 
 mans themselves, when it finally occurred. 
 
 Startling as this may seem, it is easily explained. Nobody 
 knew better than the Imperial Government in what inadequate state 
 America was, to wage a war on the present tremendous scale. 
 And even if our strength had been more imposing, it is doubtful 
 this would have changed their actions and point of view — distance 
 is always deceiving. 
 
 The break, however, came, and as the Regular Army and the 
 National Guard — just back from the Mexican campaign — were the 
 only available forces, these were naturally the first to attract the 
 attention, forming the nucleus around which the proposed big 
 Army had to be built. 
 
 When the new Reorganization tables appeared, they, amongst 
 others, called for an independent Military Police force for each 
 Division, and as the old New York Guard — then the 6th Division 
 — previously had supplied this by details, drawn from the different 
 units, a rather unsatisfactory arrangement, a call for volunteers 
 was made. In June General John F. O'Ryan designated Major 
 Shanton and Lieutenant Starr to take charge of the enterprise; and 
 with New York City and Syracuse as recruiting centers the cam- 
 paign started. 
 
 The inducement, "mounted service," proved to be very attrac- 
 tive. Numerous candidates applied for a berth in the selected out- 
 
fit; originally composed of two Companies, each in charge of a 
 Captain, one first and two second lieutenants, and with a major 
 (Major Shanton) as commanding officer. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, our officers-roster was never quite 
 complete. While on this side hampered by too frequent changes, 
 and while abroad by shortage in numbers. To tell the truth, we 
 never mustered more than three officers at any time during our 
 campaign in France. 
 
 Captain Roosevelt, Lieutenants King, Lawrence and Paris 
 were off and on attached to us, while we resided at the 94th Street 
 Armory. While at our departure Captain Wickersham and Lieu- 
 tenant Munsill were in command of Co. A; Captain (formerly 
 Lieutenant) Starr, Lieutenant Ceballos and Matson of Co. B. 
 
 The candidates, as said, being legion, it didn't take long to get 
 close to the required number, 200 men per company. The first 
 days of July found us with about 325 men enrolled; and as Author- 
 ity declared this sufficient to make a start, we soon found ourselves 
 confronted with a problem which in Bible terms read : By the sweat 
 of your brow, you shall earn your bread. 
 
 We began drilling! In civilian clothes, that's true; but we 
 made up for it with an immense enthusiasm, and were filled with 
 extreme expectations, as we were told: "The tailors were working 
 overtime on our new creations." 
 
 They arrived and we put them on. A rather difficult job the 
 first couple of times. We discovered that "made-to-order" suits 
 in the Army come in numbers. Ordinarily in two, in exclusive 
 cases in three. That the Army supply sergeant is on par, if not 
 above, the average salesman in any "Ready-made" tailor shop in 
 his trying-on process. But, thank God, we came through alive, 
 convinced that when we could that without much preliminary train- 
 ing, our physical condition wasn't nearly as bad as we had thought. 
 
 We lined up and looked, most of all, probably, like "Kitch- 
 ener's mob," the competitors in a first rehearsal on a Wintergarden 
 war-pantomime, maybe worse. But we were still alive and going 
 strong. We were made familiar with the mystery of guard duty. 
 How good or bad an impression we made, we don't know, but if 
 the frequency of repeating this part of the military manual has any 
 bearing on the final result, we were very good when we were dis- 
 charged. The Military Police did their share of guard, both in 
 the U. S. A. and abroad. Central Park lawns, formerly guarded 
 by a "Keep Off," bowed to the military necessity, and permitted us 
 to "Squads east" and "Squads west" to our hearts' content — some- 
 times more. 
 
 We were injected against all vices of this world, and still 
 some. And later, or rather bye and bye, with the "Semaphore- 
 germ," the "pack-a-roll" and "pitch-a-tent-worm" ; had instruc- 
 tions in jiu-jutsu and other essential sciences not to forget our Intro- 
 
 8 
 
duction to strange gramophon-like sounds, which we were told was 
 French. Mind you, the language of the tribes in the far-off coun- 
 try where we were finally destined to land. 
 
 The 1 6th of July found us — without any formal request as to 
 our wishes for or against — as part of the U. S. Army, being mus- 
 tered into Federal service on this date. It didn't mean a particle 
 of difference at that, except — so we were told — in pay. But as we 
 hadn't been paid as yet, and doubt existed we ever would be, we 
 didn't care; and time went on and on as before. 
 
 We faced the military menu, informed by the military expert 
 that "the allowed ration might not entirely satisfy our hunger, but 
 it had been scientifically proved in Calories and Centigram that it 
 was ample for the upkeep of human energy and endurance." Most 
 of us hated "Science" from the very day. 
 
 And, all this time, we more or less unconsciously inhaled doses 
 of the military courtesy which is so "indispensable" to the discipline. 
 Of the martial caste-system, the "spic-and-span" law, and the ru- 
 mor habit, which according to prescription should grow stronger 
 day by day. The prescription was right ! 
 
 At last, on the 6th of September, we marched out of our Ar- 
 mory, heavy under the burden of everything in this world which 
 comes under personal comfort articles. Without arms, with which 
 we were not yet entrusted. Cheered to the roof by the crowd In 
 the streets, and set out for Spartanburg, all and every one earnestly 
 believing that our Christmas would be celebrated in Paris. At that 
 time our silent hope, whenever the talk was about "somewhere in 
 
 France." 
 
 ******* 
 
 The first railroad trip as a soldier is another leaf in military 
 education. Your habits and brain-cells are still so intimately asso- 
 ciated with the comforts of civilized life that you as yet are unable 
 to appreciate the "Army-express" in all its glory. You hesitate 
 accepting the poetry of the imposing kitchen car with its dew-cov- 
 ered waterbag and perspiring K. P.'s. The expert's information 
 — the same who introduced you to the military menu — that 6j^ 
 square inch is plenty for a 6 feet 2 O. D. with a 109-pound roll of 
 comfort articles. But, as even an Army express has a time sched- 
 ule and you still have a desire to spend your Christmas in Paris, 
 you finally say good-bye to family and the deputation from the 
 local Grocers and Undertakers' Association, entrain, and squeeze 
 yourself into the 6^ square inches, generously helped by the con- 
 vulsive jerks of the train, which — with a speed exceeding i>^ 
 miles an hour — starts south. 
 
 The train kept up its southward movement for three days, 
 frequently stopping for a rest. We discovered the use, but didn't 
 acquire any particular fondness for, Hardtack and Bully-beef. 
 That there is a distinct contrast between the white and colored 
 
 9 
 
race indicated, to prevent the calamity of mixing, by signs posted at 
 all places where such distinction seems necessary. That the home 
 of the watermelon still is in sunny south, where they are grown 
 alongside the railroad tracks for the convenience of slow-moving 
 troop trains. This and that and a lot more, until we, on the morn- 
 ing of September 9th, passed through Spartanburg, happy to dis- 
 cover that we hadn't been completely fooled, but that the town 
 really existed. 
 
 Two miles south of the town we detrained and stampeded to 
 our selected camp site. We pioneered for a couple of hours. 
 Dark found us inside the pitched tents, riding on our cots, now and 
 then sounding the depth of water around them with an improvised 
 log made out of a shoestring (issued) and a can of corned-willy, 
 as sunny South, to celebrate our arrival had surprised us with a 
 rain-storm, which flooded our bungalows before we had time to 
 protect them with Regulation O. D. trenches. 
 
 But as we had stood the strain so far, we faced this new 
 agony as true men, figuring that this new experience might give us 
 a chance to enlist in the navy, if our ability to execute Hart-Ander- 
 sen-Fairbanks stunts on the promised steeds proved to be a failure. 
 Our first duty was making our camp look civilized. Trees, of 
 which now only the stumps were left, and some few cotton plants, 
 were its former tenants. These we attacked ferociously, and be- 
 fore a week had gone they had entirely disappeared. The crater- 
 like, convulsive clay-surface was made into an attractive settlement 
 with level streets and squares, fences and bridges. Artistic mem- 
 bers of our colony created monuments and other wonders, which 
 compare favorably with Plaza Square, Cleopatra's Needle or Fried- 
 erick der Grosse's Denkmal, and probably already are to be found 
 in Baedeker. This last, being only fair to assume, as it was highly 
 commented on in the local newspapers by their art-critic. 
 
 At the same time our shortage in hats, shoes, breeches 
 and blouses had been remedied, and such being considered fit for 
 presentation, we at last made our appearance in Spartanburg, to 
 take over the burden of the military administration, and make the 
 town safe — against — democracy. 
 
 To make a long story short, our life was from then on a ver- 
 itable "double existence." It was a matter of Spartanburg or 
 Camp. Spartanburg stood for guard duty and waffles, spy-in- 
 trigues and wheat cakes, the old school house and movies, reeds, 
 flirt and ice cream. Camp meant Reveille and Taps, drill and in- 
 spection, cold tents and gloom, fatigue, K. P., and stew. The 
 choice was rather easy, and as details changed weekly, numerous 
 "cases" turned up which necessitated more than one week's investi- 
 gation by the assigned Sherlock Holmes, the lucky one — when he 
 finally did return — invariably informing the envious "that he would 
 rather stay in camp, anyway." 
 
 10 
 
102nd— "DIRECTING TRAFFIC 
 
Late in October we at last got our horses, or at least some 
 of them, thereby being able to display a mounted detail in the 
 Spartanburg Parade. During the following months horses be- 
 came the all-important question. Stables and corrals grew up, re- 
 placing our first primitive picket line. Mounted patrol duty was 
 made part of our daily routine work. The surrounding roads and 
 villages were considered our legitimate property, and names as 
 Saxon Mills, Whitney, the Pumping Station, Arcadia, Glendale, 
 Reservoir, the Hogfarm, and Haines Junction are sure to revive 
 a world of memories. 
 
 It was also during these months many of our familiar faces 
 disappeared. O. T. S. took some, Q. M., the Flying Corps, and 
 Ordinance Department others. When the call for linguists came, 
 more than a dozen left. One joined the Veterinary section. The 
 gaps, however, immediately being filled, as our waiting list was 
 always crowded. 
 
 By New Year the entire outfit was mounted, thus inaugurat- 
 ing a new era. Everybody couldn't be rated a Derby-jockey, but 
 we, at least, succeeded in creating a very high average-standard 
 for a mounted outfit, and — Campobella was the place where the 
 finishing touch was put on. But Campobella stands for more than 
 that: It was there we, for the first time, tasted the enchanting 
 drink of camp life under ideal conditions. Drank nature's intoxi- 
 cating wine from simplicity's sparkling gold cup. 
 
 It was there we felt the sweetness of the sunshine's, moon- 
 light's and wind's tender caresses, when we drove our horses over 
 the mountain plains in wild gallop. Or listened to the whispering 
 creek, where the forest was dark as sin and cool as the crypt in a 
 cathedral. 
 
 Oh, yes — those were the days ! 
 
 February the 6th our advance guard arrived as a protection 
 for fields and property during the maneuvers, when the division 
 took permanent possession of the artillery — and infantry ranges. 
 It was often rough and strenuous work, long hours and even re- 
 sulted in real moonshine adventures, but it was the kind of work 
 and life we fancied. We loved it! 
 
 Campobella, Innman, Tryon, Landrum, Gouensville and Ti- 
 gersville — not to forget Walter's Farm — mean memories, sweet 
 memories, many and everlasting. 
 
 April the i ith R. T. D. Dunlup died in the hospital, a severe 
 bronchitis depriving us of a good friend and partner. His funeral 
 service in Spartanburg, April the 13th, saw both companies pres- 
 ent, presenting the most conspicuous mounted parade in our entire 
 history, to bid him our last good-bye. Incidentally, it happened to 
 be our farewell to Spartanburg also. 
 
 Concrete rumors about a speedy departure for the theater of 
 war just then fortunately reappeared in camp. We say fortu- 
 
 12 
 
nately, because it couldn't have been delayed much further. We 
 had longed and hoped, were promised and disappointed, and had 
 almost reached the stage where we sincerely believed that our ef- 
 fort reading the war news in the daily newspapers would be the 
 only one ever called for. 
 
 These rumors finally took form. A certain nervousness 
 seemed to confirm their quality. One sunny forenoon, after hav- 
 ing some pictures taken of the entire organization, we turned in 
 our horses to the Remount Station. It was one of the saddest days 
 in our young lives. We had come to love those animals. They 
 had become our real friends. Our sole companion on lonely rides. 
 Our silent listener to daily worries. Our first, last and only care. 
 And now good-bye. Heaven only knew what specimens we 
 would get "over there." One thing, however, was quite certain: 
 they would never, never compare with "him" or "her" ! 
 
 "Him" or "her" was the individual, the best, prettiest, wisest 
 and — only — ahorse. 
 
 A few days after the realization came true. Boxes for sad- 
 dles and other equipment were manufactured after an improved 
 Ford-system. Our officers roster made complete. Captain Cebal- 
 los and Lieutenant Baldwin, Captain Ackerly and Lieutenant Rux- 
 ton being in command of the two companies, respectively, such 
 finally putting an end to the long list, on which Captain Nicholas, 
 Storm, Querie, Davis and Franchot; Lieutenants Parker, Kennedy, 
 Chittenden, Paris and Taylor, had all figured. 
 
 May 4th we broke camp, and left for unknown destination. 
 May 5th we arrived at "Camp Hill," Newport News, Virginia. 
 
 For 12 days we were held there in quarantine, attending end- 
 less inspections and red-tape parties, made endurable by the per- 
 mission to have visitors. 
 
 Early in the morning. May 17th, the two companies left with 
 about one hour's interval, marched to Newport News, "rested" in 
 the streets and proceeded to the dock-gates. The first doors guard- 
 ing the secrets of "the big adventure." 
 
 And as the description of our previous experiences has been 
 relaited in a rather "sketchy," gay manner, intended only to give a 
 short, preliminary resume of our early deeds and doings, we shall 
 now settle down to a more extensive, thorough report of our trip, 
 track and achievements during the months abroad, those, which if 
 not the most important, surely will remain the most unique in our 
 lives. 
 
 13 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Twelve o'clock found us all on board the transports. Co. A 
 on SS. Pocahontas (formerly Princess Irene of the North German 
 Lloyd Line), with 102nd Eng., 102nd F. S. C, and part of the 
 102nd Tr. Hdq. Medical Corps. Co. B on SS. Madawaska, with 
 parts of 319th, 320th and 321st Infantry, but without Lieutenant 
 Ruxton, who was transferred at the last minute. 
 
 Four o'clock the ships hoisted anchor and backed out from 
 the piers, cheered by the throngs on the quay and receiving a noisy 
 whistle "Godspeed" from the many steamers in the harbor. Two 
 hours later we ran through the long line of battleships anchored 
 outside Old Point Comfort, and dropped anchor off Hampton 
 Roads for the night. 
 
 Having made ourselves acquainted with the strange, new sur- 
 roundings, and consumed our first meal on the high seas, the eve- 
 ning was spent watching our aviators taking their rather danger- 
 ous evening spins, and throwing a last glance at the country we 
 shouldn't see again for so long — some of us maybe never — we 
 turned in, to find ourselves next morning moving northeast in a 
 heavy fog, which made speed impossible. 
 
 May 19th, still hampered by fog, we arrived at our meeting 
 place "somewhere in the Atlantic," all of a sudden appearing in the 
 very midst of those transports, with which the rumors had been so 
 busy. All wonderfully camouflaged, as our own, and under pro- 
 tection of a cruiser (U. S. S. Huntington) and one of our new sea- 
 going destroyers (No. 79). 
 
 Around dinner time the picturesque convoy steamed eastward, 
 the afternoon being occupied with handing out life belts (coats) 
 and receiving instructions as to where to report in case of "fire" or 
 "abandon ship." 
 
 Probably nobody thought of it then, but the issue and arrange- 
 ments of these safety devices was really several days ahead of the 
 normal schedule, as the fleet had just received a wireless about the 
 presence and activities of German submarines along the coast, 
 wherefore precautions had to be taken in case of a possible emer- 
 gency. 
 
 The "lights out" after dark now also meant "no smoking," 
 as even a lighted "butt" might be a valuable help for lurking "subs" 
 where the curtain of night otherwise would have protected us from 
 detection. 
 
 Gun crew and submarine watchers were selected; the gun crew 
 acting as ammunition detail, supplying our 6-inch guns with their 
 rations of 90-lb, O. D. pills during attack, while the submarine 
 
 14 
 
watchers distributed all over the ships, each had a certain area of 
 the treacherous sea level under constant observation. 
 
 That the 102nd M. P. supplied more than half of these spe- 
 cial duty men was only what could be expected, trained as we were 
 to the very minute, in immediately detecting any suspicious char- 
 
 CAPT. JUAN CEBALLOS AND LIEUT. ORAN BALDWIN 
 Commanding officers during our entire stay in France 
 
 acter who threatened fellowman's property. This, however, not 
 changing the fact that the "submarine criminal" was as yet an un- 
 known specimen in our criminal annals. 
 
 Next day, May 20, ignoring the frequent showers, we began 
 our daily emergency drills, and the same evening, at sunset, the guns 
 were manned and made "clear for action" for the first time. 
 
 May 2 1st, 9 A. M., the President Grant came up and joined 
 our procession, now numbering 9, not including the warships, which 
 likev/ise had been reinforced and now consisted of 2 destroyers (79 
 and 80) and the cruiser. And as the days from May 21-25 were 
 rather shy of excitement, it is only fitting to put in a note about the 
 
 15 
 
daily life and behavior of the troops on their trip across "the big 
 pond." 
 
 First, then, judging from all these different types of men, 
 ranging in age from 1 8 to 40, our government ought have no fear 
 whatsoever about solving the personnel question for our proposed 
 big merchant marine after the war — if the behavior and adeptness 
 of these men may be used as a guide for the prospective material. 
 The quickness with which they made themselves "at home" under 
 such unfamiliar conditions was startling, to say the least. 
 
 Twenty-four hours out, and everybody could tell you, in sailor 
 terms, the location, use and object of most everything on board. 
 But, speaking about locations, rather accommodations, these were 
 not exactly plentiful. Of course. In such emergency, and sending 
 across monthly the number of men we did, boats had to be crowded, 
 but it looked as if some more deck space could have been provided 
 for. As it was, only a minimum could sit down at a time, and had 
 it not been for the boys' own initiative, In arranging boxing bouts 
 and miniature vaudevilles, time would often have become terribly 
 dull and weary, even If there was a "movie" to kill the monotony. 
 The boys' spirit however, saved the day. 
 
 The prospect or realization of danger never seemed to enter 
 their minds, and even the unpleasant privacies, which are connected 
 with a slightly rolling ocean (as on the 23rd to 25th) and which 
 produced green-yellow faces, a shaky messllne, and an Immense 
 waste of food (mostly after It had left the mess kits and commenced 
 the hike down to the hungry stomachs), was unable to lower the 
 morale, and was conquered with a good-naturedness and "take-it-as- 
 comes" spirit, which was indeed remarkable. 
 
 The meals were very good and plentiful, for that matter bet- 
 ter than we ever saw them in camp. The sleeping quarters 
 crowded, but otherwise as good as could be expected. Some more 
 showerbaths or cleaning facilities would have met no objections, 
 but — as already said — the want of space to sit down or move 
 around was the only real setback. 
 
 Were the boys never homesick? Yes and no! Homesick, 
 however, is not the exact word. Millions and millions of thoughts 
 were most certainly, every hour of the day, sent back to those 
 "back there," but you wouldn't feel it, hardly suspect it. It is one 
 of the wonders of the war, a silent, unspoken agreement amongst 
 fighting men, not to talk about all the dear ones left behind. It 
 was the case here, and we met the same attitude everywhere and all 
 through the war. 
 
 You would therefore talk about your daily troubles, disap- 
 pointments, pleasures and hardships, extravagant "feeds" (you 
 had had), beautiful girls (you might have had), the economic pros- 
 pects of China (based on your knowledge of "Chinatown") or 
 sightseeing in Sahara (the last visions from the beach, not includ- 
 
 16 
 
ing the — only — girl), about all and everything on earth — except 
 that or those who really counted in your life. 
 
 Indeed, human beings are strange, and as soldiers make no 
 exception to this rule, they just laughed and joked, thought and 
 suffered, but — they didn't talk about it. 
 
 As we were nearing the Danger Zone, the convoy changed its 
 irregular physiognomy into a double rank battle formation. On 
 May 25th the crews had — rather," intended to have — an impro- 
 vised target practice to try out our trusty 6-inch guns, but the prac- 
 tice stopped almost as it started, the target being shot to pieces by 
 the second shot. Incidentally, however, this maneuver proved to 
 be just in nick of time. Next day (the 26th) at 4 o'clock in the 
 afternoon, an overturned whaleboat appeared on the horizon, sus- 
 pected of hiding a periscope. The convoy immediately opened 
 fire and sank the suspect, cheered by 20,000 men, who from their 
 improvised "bleachers" joyously greeted the first "out", in our first 
 inning with William's cohort. Same night — it was wonderful 
 moonlight — and rather unnoticed as all hands were then asleep, 
 the gun crews had another "scare." The ships all made "clear for 
 action," but as nothing happened. It only resulted in the entire 
 night spent in "watchful waiting." The guns were, however, from 
 then on, kept manned day and night; it really looked as if the en- 
 emy was especially Interested In "O'Ryan's Traveling Circus." 
 
 The 27th was a beautiful, clear day, but cold. If It wasn't 
 because everybody realized the necessity of the arrangement, prob- 
 ably all those who slept below the waterllne and that day got orders 
 to sleep on deck until our arrival In France, would hardly have ap- 
 preciated this Instruction. But the previous day had taught a les- 
 son, and made the reasons for the order easily understood. 
 
 The same night two new destroyers arrived, replacing our two 
 former companions, which had left us for a little flirt somewhere 
 else. And next day (the 28th), 3 :io P. M., 7 new destroyers ap- 
 peared from "over there," whereafter our cruiser bade us good- 
 bye and turned homeward, leaving the guard to the fishlike torpedo- 
 boats, gracefully jumping around the convoy In a manner strangely 
 reminding one of the flocks of "porpoises" we had already met. 
 At 5 :30 in the afternoon a "sub" is sighted; our destroyers take a 
 38-mIles-an-hour flying start, crash over the spot as racehorses, 
 dropping a couple of depth bombs. The explosions shake th^ ships 
 from top to bottom, mountains of water, foam and — black — smoke 
 (indicating hit) shot up from the blue-green water, where their 
 razorlike bows had just cut a terrible scar, and — It was all over ! 
 Second inning (for William) : No hits, no runs (?). Score: i — o 
 in our favor. 
 
 The night of May 29th, now being in the Danger Zone, 
 everybody sleeps fully dressed. Expectations run high, as we are 
 told we may probably reach France the next day. The crews are 
 
 17 
 
already busy trying out cargo-gear, nets, etc., and 2 P. M., May 
 the 30th, two aeroplanes, like those birds which indicated the pres- 
 ence of land to Columbus, are seen hovering over the fleet, but soon 
 forgotten, as we at 2:10 find ourselves in a veritable engagement 
 with a considerable number of German submarines. 
 
 The running fight lasted for about i^ hours. The white 
 smoke from the artillery soon hid part of the details. The de- 
 stroyers are dashing madly In and out, circling the convoy like anx- 
 ious animal mates protecting their offspring. Red gun flashes mo- 
 mentarily blind the eyes; bomb and canon detonations deafen the 
 ear, forcing the ship's steel bodies Into a slight, vibrating motion, as 
 if a deadly nervousness had almost paralyzed their nerve centers, 
 this nervousness being the only one felt, as everybody otherwise is 
 absolutely indifferent and cool. Not the slightest sign of fear or 
 realization of a possible catastrophe may be detected, the men, on 
 the contrary, seem to consider It as an exciting entertainment put up 
 solely for their benefit, as a fitting celebration of Decoration Day 
 and our arrival in France. 
 
 As another "sub" — now making the score 2 to o — was ac- 
 counted for, our naval engagements may indeed be recorded as 
 extremely successful, always remembering that a convoy Is first and 
 last on the defensive, only waging a battle when forced by bitter 
 necessity. At 5 P. M. we entered the beautiful bay leading Into 
 St. Nazaire; waited there about half an hour for the French pilot. 
 Around 7 :30 we slipped into the inner bay, passing close by the 
 wrecks of several ships which had been less fortunate in escaping 
 the pirates. And cheered by the immense crowd on the shore, 
 flags and a 100 per cent. Yankee Rah! — Rah! we slowly steamed 
 Into the harbor, resting safely behind the first lock-gates by 9 P. M. 
 
 Floating from one basin to another, the ships finished their 
 last lap through the town In a couple of hours. It gave us time 
 and opportunity to envy a flirting M. P., make the acquaintance of 
 the first poilu, and a mob of kids begging for "cigarettes" and 
 "souvenirs" — two words we will never forget. 
 
 At 1 1 150 we finally docked, and after a few hours' sleep we 
 left our floating hotel next morning about 4 :30 on the 3 ist of May, 
 in the year of our Lord 19 18. 
 
 18 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 So, this is France. Well, well, well ! 
 
 Seated on the sidewalk, we take a look at the town. It is 
 rather a busy place we have had selected for us for our first-hand 
 impression, right outside the docks and railroad station. 
 
 Heavy motor trucks and gray-painted army cars are passing 
 by in an endless stream. Officers of all ranks and nationalities, but 
 mostly Americans, likewise. There come three French soldiers, 
 pitifully young, none of them more than 17 summers. Two old 
 men look at us with a peculiar look, shake their heads, and disap- 
 pear in the houses. Every house Is tightly shut, as if only death 
 lived within. Maybe it does. 
 
 There is the advance guard of our friends from last night, 
 the kids with their inexhaustible crave for cigarettes. And be- 
 hind them, a woman in black, one of the many. Because, wher- 
 ever you look, you will always find that — women in black, suffer- 
 ing and despair. Did you ever think that a country could be bled 
 so white, combed so close for men? 
 
 And if you speak to them, the old men or the mourning 
 women — for children, thank God, even in war times remain chil- 
 dren, and do not realize how cruel life can be, or what war really 
 means — then, you will find a boundless despair, a suffering so in- 
 tense that it hardly seems possible, an already settled, definite be- 
 lief, that it is all over, that the war is lost. 
 
 We mention this, because that was our first impression. Be- 
 cause it was probably the most remarkable thing we saw in France, 
 and we saw a few — the complete change in less than three months, 
 from the gloom of defeat to the glory and behef in victory. On a 
 people who have suffered, conquered and emerged as the French 
 nation has, this casts no reflection. It is, on the contrary, unim- 
 aginable how they had still courage and grit enough to stand up 
 once more. But they did. A short resume of the general situa- 
 tion to explain the prevailing pessimistic outlook seems justified : 
 
 What could be termed the initial battles of the German final 
 drive had just come to a close. The ground taken by the Eng- 
 lish around Ypres in 19 17 had been re-taken. Hazebriick was in 
 overwhelming danger. Amiens was again within striking distance. 
 Soissons had fallen, and the closing-in process on Rheims had be- 
 come acute. The lull in the fighting had given the Germans time 
 to re-establish communications through the conquered area. They 
 knew probably only too well that they had practically passed 
 through the Allied defense system to its entire depth. And as 
 even conservative estimate credited the enemy with at least 72 re- 
 
 19 
 
serve divisions on the western front, a new blow was expected daily, 
 logically around Amiens or Montdidier. A blow which, if suc- 
 cessful, would separate the French and British forces, before the 
 weight of the Americans could be felt, and open the road for a de- 
 cisive push against either Paris or the Channel ports. 
 
 The last days of May the artillery again began to roar on the 
 Somme and Lys fronts, followed by an advance south of Soissons, 
 where it was claimed the Germans were now only 45 miles from 
 Paris. The advance, however, was not taken very seriously, as it 
 was suspected to be an operation, only meant to draw the attention 
 away from the real point of attack. 
 
 Now was it any wonder that the population was stunned, star- 
 ing, as it seemed, the very defeat into its cruel face? And after 
 sacrifices so Indescribable and glorious that no comparison through- 
 out the entire history is possible. 
 
 Was it any wonder that the old men shook their heads and 
 thought that it was all over, that we had come too late? 
 
 For three days we were quarantined at the American Rest 
 Camp about a mile outside St. Nazaire, for the first time being 
 introduced to chicken wire beds (oh, how we often wished for those 
 later on!). For 48 hours we took over the entire camp guard, the 
 camp at that time housing some 20,000 men. On the third day, 
 or June 2nd, "something was in the air." In the afternoon and 
 evening our baggage was sent to the station. In the evening we 
 confidentially were told that we would pull out sometime during 
 that night. And we turned in, tired but happy, knowing that we 
 at last were on our way, to face the ordeal for which we had come 
 
 —the World War. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Two o'clock we were called, torn out of our sweet dreams by 
 a quartette singing Chopin's funeral march, adding an improvised 
 finish chord to each line, so effectively executed that the original 
 music almost seemed superfluous. Some ten minutes after we had 
 lined up (we had already packed our "apartments" before we 
 turned in) and in a slight rain and under cover of night, we sneaked 
 out of camp, marched through St. Nazaire to the railroad station 
 and entrained for the great unknown. 
 
 Our train — a rather unpleasant change to the wor^e, of what 
 we untilthen had considered the limit of non-comfort — J.rawn by a 
 locomotive of a slightly improved Stephens type, pulled out. We 
 had started on a two days' — and nights' — ride, which, next to the 
 torture of waiting for our departure for home, doubtless will be 
 rated as the climax of our sufferings abroad. 
 
 Five minutes was more than sufficient to convince everybody 
 that with ten in a coupe, legs 2 feet 8, and space between seats i 
 foot 2, comfort in a sitting position was impossible. The height 
 of the cage being less than 5 feet 2. Standing up was equally out 
 
 20 
 
German soldier in full "war-paint," including gas mask, hand 
 oTcnades and the famous steel helmet 
 
 21 
 
of the question. The idea of lying down had not even entered the 
 inventor's brain, while all straps, as those we know from subway 
 and street cars, were carefully omitted. This last was about the 
 only sensible thing about the whole arrangement, as it doubtless 
 saved some lives. After the first night everybody was willing to 
 try most everything — even hang themselves. 
 
 The only consolation, the only one a traveler has on a long 
 trip when dining — and sleeping cars are eradicated, was watching 
 the scenery or other objects of interest. The first German pris- 
 oners of war were therefore looked at with considerable curiosity. 
 So was the first large town, Nantes, while the country itself brought 
 forth one comment after the other, for its beauty and wonderful 
 cultivation. 
 
 But, as the discomfort grew, these objects lost their interest 
 and gave room for a complete disregard about everything — but 
 space. The first "rest-station" will therefore always remind us 
 that it was there we had an opportunity to find out if we were still 
 able to walk and stand upright, and then — that it provided us with 
 a cup of coffee. Personally, we think this arrangement an ex- 
 tremely lucky one — for the coffee. The best thing we could say 
 about it was : forget it ! It was so bad that we are thankful we 
 don't even know the name of the place, it would spoil its reputation. 
 Again we moved on, north, through Angers, le Mans and Alencon. 
 Mentioning all the names would only be waste of time, as every- 
 body knows them; since, being unable to sleep, watching the stars 
 or collecting the geographical names were the only means to kill 
 the monotony. It invariably resulted in a deadly scrimmage for 
 the possession of the windows at each stop, to explore the valuable 
 name, and — the possibilities for "vin-rouge" or "vin blance." 
 
 The next morning, to our surprise, we passed through Seine 
 and Rouen. Somehow or other we had all taken it for granted 
 that we were headed for the American Sector, and now it looked as 
 if our route brought us away from it, north, to the very scene of the 
 great British "back-to-the-wall" stand. 
 
 That called for serious consideration and discussion, and thus 
 occupied, we killed the time until Darnethal, where we at last 
 stopped. 
 
 A hospital train, packed with wounded, and stinking of car- 
 bolic and iodoform, made us for a second forget our own suffer- 
 ings, but it will forever remain a mystery how we ever got out of 
 those cars, as everybody felt sure legs had gone, arms were broken 
 and the back simply never had existed. Incidentally having a talk 
 with the wounded, it dawned on us, too, that we were getting nearer 
 the real thing. The same talk making us feel more puzzled than 
 ever, as the wounded were all English, Canadians or Australians. 
 Were we, after all, really bound for the English front? 
 
 The station was patroled by Canadian M. P.'s; French poilus 
 
 22 
 
hang around waiting for a train. There was a peculiar feeling of 
 depression and uncertainty in the air. Maybe the dirty, tired-look- 
 ing soldiers caused it; or the sight of the wounded; or our own sore 
 bodies. Who knows? 
 
 A dozen Germans, including four officers, and just taken, were 
 locked up in the waiting room. Two of them wore uniforms of a 
 green dirty color, which made them look like Austrian Rifles. 
 Their pale, drawn faces, too, fitted into the rest of the picture, a 
 picture that was bound to stir the emotion. 
 
 We had tea and crackers, marched up to the town-square, 
 were dismissed, and dispersed as a pack of hounds or hungry 
 wolves, searching the most obscure restaurants and stores for 
 "mange," which in English means something to eat. As it, for 
 most of us, was our first experiment in this line, this, however, had 
 its difficulties. Because, to get something to eat, you have to ask, 
 and — ask, that was the problem. 
 
 Those who thought they could speak French could be counted 
 on one hand, and those who could make themselves understood 
 numbered two. When we nevertheless, practically all of us, had 
 something to eat, it was due to a system of pantomime, instinc- 
 tively originating and surprising in results. Which doesn't mean 
 that we are afraid, we left the town and its population with the im- 
 pression that we were dumb. The gestures were always accom- 
 panied by fitting phrases, but — we sincerely hope that nobody un- 
 derstood English. During the night General Michie had died on 
 the train. When we came back we lined up as his coffin was 
 brought out, paying last honors to the first of our division to die 
 in France. 
 
 And again we boarded our torture chambers, and left — still 
 going north — and if possible with less speed than ever. Again a 
 short resume is necessary to explain at least some of the reasons 
 for our strange route and presence in this area : 
 
 The situation was critical, especially on the British front. The 
 expected attack had not yet been resumed. But it was bad enough 
 as it was. 
 
 The railroad junction at Amiens, Bethune and Hazebriick 
 were under effective fire, meaning that the maintenance of the en- 
 tire present railroad system in northern France was In extreme 
 danger of being completely paralyzed any minute. St. Pol could 
 be reached with long-range guns. The result was that an entire 
 new set of emergency railways (three separate routes) had to be 
 built, independent of the old main lines; an enterprise which lasted 
 up to July. This caused our strange sneaking in by the back door. 
 Some of the tracks we passed over were only a few days old and 
 had it not been for them the railroad trip would have had other 
 terrors in store for us than the discomfort. It would have brought 
 
 23 
 
us right through the German artillery fire, and at a time when it 
 was more deadly than ever. 
 
 The question "men" was, at the same time, as serious as ever. 
 The German attacks during March-April had taxed the English 
 armies to their very limits. Only 42 divisions were fit for active 
 operations, at that only as a defensive force. They were far be- 
 low strength, and sorely in need of rest. The supply of trained 
 reserves was momentarily exhausted, and when reserves did begin 
 to arrive, they were immediately broken up, partly to fill the gaps 
 in the depleted divisions in the line, partly to be used for the urgent 
 and extensive railroad constructions, or the new trench defense 
 system (some 5,000 miles) which had to be built to close up the 
 gaps. These immense undertakings were the reason for the pres- 
 ence in the back area of all those soldiers we saw from the train. 
 That was the work they were doing, and which we couldn't quite 
 understand, as we naturally, as all raw war material, considered a 
 war a war of fronts, and as yet didn't realize that the rear is, at 
 least, as important. The one necessitating the other. 
 
 If the German advance during those months had been forced 
 home with all the resources the enemy had at their disposal, either 
 around Amiens, Arras or in the Lys salient, a catastrophe would 
 have been almost a certainty. But fortunately they didn't, for the 
 third time losing an opportunity which might have won them the 
 war. 
 
 The situation being so critical, some French reserve divisions 
 had already, previous to our appearance, been sent up to the hard- 
 pressed Flanders front, in exchange for five English divisions bor- 
 rowed in April. The month of May bringing American troops In 
 assuring numbers, troops who had already proved their quality, at 
 last provided the necessary human material to gradually replace 
 these. Four Yankee divisions were accordingly sent up to make 
 good the shortage, at the same time getting an opportunity to show 
 the Imperial armies in those parts that the American millions really 
 existed, and were more than the "Newspaper Army" they liked to 
 joke about. 
 
 These were therefore at least some of the reasons why the 
 27th division made its initial appearance on the English front and 
 not in the American sector, but there were doubtless moments, dur- 
 ing our trip north, where we might just as well have landed around 
 Cantigny, Chateau-Thierry or Soissons, where the Germans still 
 kept up their drive, gaining ground, but losing men — and time. 
 
 At 2 o'clock In the morning, on June 5th, we finally reached 
 our last stop — Noyelles. We marched to an English camp, located 
 right south of the town, and had our second cup of very good tea. 
 Consumed what was left of our bully-beef and hardtack, at the same 
 time looking around to get an impression of the "Tommies," with 
 
 24 
 
o 
 
 25 
 
whom it now seemed doubtless that we, at least for some time, were 
 going to share hardships, glory or disgrace. 
 
 And again we became conscious of "getting close to it." Bomb 
 craters were sown all over fields and roads. The tents were cam- 
 ouflaged and protected with shrapnel and bomb shelters. The 
 picket lines hidden, as far as possible, under trees. While on the 
 road one pitiful convoy after another of refugees passed by, shiv- 
 ering in their few clothes, worn, pale and crying, and usually trailed 
 by an old horse dragging some antique cart, containing all what 
 had been left them of their former homes and property. 
 
 But aggravating as this might be to look at, we still had to 
 face the saddest blow of the day. Returning to the station, our 
 barrack bags were distributed, we were marched over to a near-by 
 lot, and received orders to turn in all extra equipment. Imagine — 
 months' feverish collecting, critical buying, begging and stealing, 
 wasted by a mere command. Followed — and this was the real 
 knockout blow — by another order, to turn in the treasured bags, 
 except what we absolutely needed of our Department stores — par- 
 don, private property, as we from now on would have to carry It 
 all on our back. It Is almost unbelievable how little that means, 
 when you know that. 
 
 But, as an order is an order, we silently obeyed, comforted by 
 an assuring promise that the bags would be returned a few days 
 later. To tell the truth, we didn't see them until long after the 
 war had ended, at that only to find them empty, except for a few 
 articles which even an Englishman couldn't use. 
 
 At 2 :io P. M. we left, duly enrolled as members of the "Hob- 
 nail Express," and soon disappeared in a cloud of dust, to finish up 
 — more or less — strong in an English "overnight" camp near Sallly. 
 We pitched our tents in a small wood, as night raiders were very 
 frequent visitors, a fact nobody doubted, the ground reminding 
 still more of a sifter than the camp we had left the same morning, 
 sampled a glass or two — or maybe three — of "Epenay," and turned 
 in, to be called at 4 A. M. next morning for another excursion trip. 
 
 Had the walk the previous day seemed hard for some of us, 
 unaccustomed as we were to the treat of marching with full pack, 
 the very thought of this comparative pleasure trip had most cer- 
 tainly completely vanished before night. 
 
 Our march on the 6th brought us through Sailly, le TItre, For- 
 est I'Abbaye, Foret de Crecy, Crecy, Machiel and — that was any- 
 way the understanding — ended In Machy. But other dispositions 
 must have been taken, and when we arrived — Heaven only knows 
 how sore, tired and thirsty — we were cheerfully greeted by the ani- 
 mating news that we would have to "eat up" another 6 kilometers 
 before we could sit down and rest up after a good day's work. 
 
 Again we slung the packs on our maltreated shoulders, had 
 
 26 
 
another long look at the empty canteen, rambled down the dusty 
 road through Reguire Educe, turned south at the chateau, and 
 found ourselves, or what was left of us, in Bernay about 2 130 P. M., 
 having made about 23 kilometers that day. 
 
 ^ Although our casualties had been rather heavy, it was probably 
 the first time we realized how much endurance we really had when 
 we were compelled to. It was also the first time we felt definitely 
 convinced, that what other mistakes we might have made, our 
 selection of the Cavalry-branch, had been the right one, if — we had 
 only had the horses. But, as it was, the prospects for getting 
 horses soon, seemed very slight. An immense corral near Paris, 
 holding about 1,200 heads including those intended for our use, 
 had been detected by German aeroplanes, and, on the 2nd of June, 
 bombed so mercilessly, that it was practically Wiped out of ex- 
 istence. Artillery horses and officers' mounts having first consid- 
 eration, it therefore most certainly looked, as if all we could expect 
 for quite some time, would be left-overs from the English. We 
 are sorry to say, that this came only too true. 
 
 The 7th was used as a much-needed rest day to revive our 
 numerous "dead," comfort the swollen, wounded feet and sore 
 shoulders. To the surprise of many, the cases of cramped feet 
 were, by far, more severe where ordinary Russet shoes had been 
 worn, the up to then, so detested Hobnails therefore experiencing 
 the strange sensation of all of a sudden being considered useful, 
 instead of "dead baggage." The price, too, went up accordingly, 
 now being almost 2 franc a pair — brand new, of course ! 
 
 Bernay, typical for the many hundreds like it, we should see 
 later, was but a small village, housing some 2-300 souls. The sur- 
 rounding country was beautiful, rolling, with plenty of forests, 
 rich, splendid cultivated fields, and cut by the already familiar ca- 
 nals or streams. 
 
 Somehow or other, all these small villages looked exactly 
 alike. The bend or slope of the street might differ a bit, but other- 
 wise it was the same church, the same graveyard (Neuvilles pic- 
 tures), the same straw-roofed houses, the same Estaminees, the 
 same aroma of water-soaked soil, grass, flowers and manure. 
 Even the type of people was so universal concrete that it appeared 
 as i,f the same old men, women and children followed us around 
 from one town to another, wherever we went. 
 
 As it was our first experience in "billeting," instead of spend- 
 ing our leisure and sleeping hours in pup-tents or barracks, the 
 billet-question, too, will have to be explained. 
 
 Of billets, then, there are two varieties — front and back-area 
 billets. Strange as it may seem, the front-area billets — all pro- 
 vided that there are still standing houses in said area — are by far 
 the best. Here, as there isn't a human being to interfere, and as 
 the population usually left in such a hurry that most everything is 
 left behind, it is only a matter of selecting what "chateau" you 
 
 27 
 
want, ordinarily decided according to how attractive the beds look 
 or the presence of a stove, take over the property, and feel at 
 home. 
 
 In the back area, still occupied by its civilians, it is not nearly 
 as easy or comfortable. There a barn without walls, often even 
 without a roof, ordinarily means the limits of luxury. Watchful 
 eyes are guarding your walk through the vegetable or fruit tree 
 patch against your — accidental — interference with their growth. 
 The only way out of the misery is "billeting" yourself in a private 
 house for 6-10 francs a week. Then, at least, you are sure of roof 
 over your head, and a smile instead of the watchful eye. Money 
 is a wonderful thing! 
 
 But those tricks we hadn't learned as yet. To tell the truth, 
 we were terribly "green" and — we felt it. We were therefore 
 continuously seen sneaking around the "Tommies," the few of 
 them we found, and who were the sad remnants of the former 66th 
 Division (also known as the Click-idi-click Division), almost an- 
 nihilated in the April offensive, to acquire some "dope" and gen- 
 eral useful information as to how to get along under the present 
 conditions and what might follow. 
 
 Our men proved to be apt pupils, and it is doubtful if any 
 similar veteran outfit could give us much "inside-dope" we didn't 
 know, when we came out of the line just before the armistice. But 
 then again the Australians had been our last teachers, and, as they 
 always did, they made a d good job of it. 
 
 H« ^ ^ H^ H: ^ H^ ■ 
 
 Our stay in Bernay lasted from the 6th-i8th of June. Be- 
 ginning with the second day, we drilled twice a day, or once, using 
 the afternoon for hardening-up trips. Rue, Arry, Reguire Ecluse 
 or Machy were usually our goal on these hikes, and for drill field 
 we used a large, terribly uneven site, southeast of the town. It 
 was there we on maneuver day had a call by an Allied plane which, 
 shooting low, dropped us our first aeroplane message, attached to 
 a Belgian flag. Its whole appearance, maneuver and departure was 
 such a revelation of beauty that everybody that day wanted to join 
 the flying corps. But it had its anxious moments, too, as we at 
 that time didn't know the meaning of the aeroplane horn, had 
 heard loads of stories about "Jerry's" ungentlemanlike tricks using 
 captured Allied planes, or our insignia, as means to get close to 
 the prey without detection. The new English rifles, a couple of 
 days before exchanged for our good old Springfields, were there- 
 fore clasped more tightly, until the identity of the guest had been 
 settled. A precaution which wouldn't have helped us much, as 
 the rifles were empty. 
 
 Talking about aeroplanes, everybody since our arrival at 
 Bernay had been affected with "aeroplane fever." It consists of 
 an irritating, invariable, quick motion of the head — face upwards — 
 
 28 
 
whenever the ear spots the machine, to find out if it is friend or 
 enemy. The doctors claimed it was due to looking too long and 
 deep into the numerous bombholes we had already seen on our 
 rambles around the country. In any case, it made two men, swim- 
 ming in the creek, run, entirely naked, up the street when a plane 
 unexpectedly arrived and dropped a peaceful star shell. But all 
 that was part of the game. 
 
 As machines were practically continuously over our heads, 
 sometimes a stray bird, sometimes in flocks up to 50, this classify- 
 ing became rather strenuous. But the novelty and excitement 
 gradually wore off, and before we left, they had become almost 
 boring — hardly anybody offering them a single look. June nth 
 our first detail left the company to report to the 19th English 
 Corps at Pont Remy, a few days after being sent on to 27th Divi- 
 sion Headquarters. The same week two others left for the Albert 
 front for observation purpose, and when they came back we ex- 
 perienced our first right-out-of-the-hand information, on which we 
 had to form our opinion, about modern war. The messages were 
 not exactly assuring. The same despair and downheartedness 
 which we met at St. Nazaire seemed to be predominating at the 
 front. The belief that we were too late so settled that we were not 
 far from believing it ourselves. Feverishly clinging on to our only 
 consolations that everything was still calm and that time was play- 
 ing in our favor, giving us the necessary breathing spell for rein- 
 forcing and reorganization. 
 
 At Bernay Captain Jennings (P. M. of the 66th Division) 
 gave us an instructive lecture on what difficulties, and kind of work, 
 we most likely would encounter at the front, based on his own sad 
 experiences. It was rather an impressive talk, and opened our 
 eyes to the fact that there were still a few little points, especially 
 in the dramatic line, we would have to master before graduation, 
 and which we didn't know from our previous wars in South Caro- 
 lina. But again we feel justified in saying that we proved to be 
 apt pupils — Yankees usually are. 
 
 Gas masks and steel helmets had been added to our equip- 
 ment. It meant a variation in our daily drill, necessitating our 
 familiarizing with this new torture apparatus — referring to the 
 gas mask. As to the helmet, the criticism usually centered about 
 its size and weight — a criticism which later disappeared mysteri- 
 ously, when the shells burst overhead and made one wish for an- 
 other headgear eight times the size and of unlimited weight — as 
 long as the shrapnel pieces couldn't go through. 
 
 ****** 
 
 June 1 8th we left for Belloy-sur-Meer, over Neuville, Pon- 
 
 thoile, Noyelles, Estrebaeuf and St. Bliment. It was our longest 
 
 hike yet, and spoke loud about the value of our daily hikes and 
 
 general physical condition. Not a man fell out, but, to tell the 
 
 29 
 
truth, some men did go down on our baggage lorry, their condition 
 being such that the doctor refused them to walk. If our billets in 
 Bernay had been bad, the new ones were still worse. A row of 
 "houses," probably deserted by their occupants to prevent a mis- 
 erable death under their ruins — it looked to be doubtful if they 
 were able to stand another night's storm — were put to our dis- 
 posal. 
 
 Rats showed themselves with a boldness indicating long and 
 unhampered possession, and didn't try to hide their unquestionable 
 objection to our unwelcome appearance on their lawful properties. 
 But rats were already one of our least worries. What we wanted 
 was sleep — and so we did. Nothing very important happened 
 during our three days' stay. Oh, yes — pack-carriers were issued 
 to replace our cavalry rolls. That brought us another step nearer 
 to the Infantry — and ten away from the horses. But we were 
 still full of hopes. 
 
 June 2 1 St we left the houses and rats. Marched through Fri- 
 ville, Escarbotin to Fressenville, took the Abbeville mainroad to 
 Miannay, turned north at Cambron, and stayed overnight at Grand 
 Laviers. 
 
 The Abbeville main road is typical of the French highways — 
 "grand course," they are called. Running in a perfectly straight 
 line for miles and miles, and fenced in on both sides by tall poplars, 
 they serve as a wonderful natural camouflaged road, hiding troop 
 movement from the ambitious birdmen. We met several batches 
 of German prisoners there, being escorted back from the lines. 
 They all stopped and looked wonderingly at us. Remember, they 
 had been told and taught that we only existed on paper, and here 
 we were in the very heart of the British sector. It was easy to 
 read their thoughts, it runs in German, "Wir sind humbugged." 
 
 On the other side St. Mars a gray Army car overtook us. 
 It was General O'Ryan. That was the first time we saw the Gen- 
 eral since we left Camp Wadsworth. Next morning English lor- 
 ries brought us through Abbeville, Auxi, and DouUens to Beauval, 
 leaving a small detail behind to take care of our supply. It meant, 
 incidentally, that we, from now on, were In the line, even if only in 
 reserve. But it was the beginning, anyway. 
 
 Beauval — at that time less than 15 kilometers from the front 
 — was not under bombardment. DouUens, however, now and then 
 had a few shells screaming over the housetops. But this favoritism 
 didn't excite any envious feelings. A look around — on the bomb- 
 plowed graveyard, in the fields with their newly torn shell holes, 
 or at the town Itself, every cellar window hidden behind sandbags 
 — showed clearly that it was only a momentary good-naturedness, 
 and — nobody suspected such feelings to be predominating very 
 long. We were therefore all "keyed up" for the reception of the 
 first "Jerry shell." We even wasted a precious half hour In the 
 
 30 
 
31 
 
evening on it, before we ascended our chicken-cube bed. It was all 
 in vain. 
 
 But the German night raiders easily made up for this disap- 
 pointment. Not a single night passed without the aeroplanes pay- 
 ing us a visit. It became so frequent that it can only be termed 
 boresome, and they were rather bothersome visitors at that. 
 
 A whistle would cut through the night, notifying: "Jerry up." 
 A few minutes after a whirr could be heard from their machines. 
 When you went out, the searchlights would be visible creeping over 
 the dark curtain to find the intruder. Some more machines, with 
 a different engine-whirr, would appear. They carried small lights. 
 They were ours. Now the real game started. Jerry would screw 
 himself up higher and higher to escape. Ours would follow him 
 mile after mile to get up on top, and the searchlights would con- 
 tinue their silent investigation, now and then guided by a Morse 
 signal from our planes. It sounded almost like machine gun fire. 
 And, if they did find him, if he was all of a sudden caught in the 
 rays — appearing in the distance as a beautiful fluttering silver- 
 moth — the anti-aircraft, and machine gun fire would open up, and 
 "pump" their lead and shrapnel at him, until a new Morse signal 
 silenced them, and another plane — ours — sailed into the stage, to 
 fight it out man against man. 
 
 But often we didn't find him at all. Hidden in the night, he 
 would make his exit, while suddenly two, three or four crashes from 
 his exploding bombs would make the ground shake for miles. That 
 was his good-bye, his cynical laughter over our failure. And — a 
 failure is seldom pleasant ! 
 
 One of these bombs fell close to Division Headquarters picket 
 line and killed several horses. Another close to our back yard; 
 four of them about loo yards from our camp at Montrelet and 
 Fiffes, and about i8 in our district north of Doullens. Oh, they 
 were generous those days ! 
 
 The first nights everybody had the feeling that their pup tent 
 — those miserable small things we daily cursed, because we couldn't 
 even turn over in them — was a square mile at least. We would 
 listen and listen, and finally get up to watch the fights. But human 
 beings are strange animals. Even those things became insignifi- 
 cant. A month after nobody would even lift their head when the 
 "anti-aircraft" barked. The war had done its work. The belief 
 in "the shell with a name" had become a fixed idea. And sleep 
 therefore meant sleep, Jerry or no Jerry. 
 
 Our real work now started. Details were sent out to all the 
 regiments of the Division, partly to keep order, partly to exer- 
 cise traffic control. As the artillery had been sent down to the 
 American sector and the trains were still in Brest it meant to the 
 Infantry, Engineers, Machine Gun Battalion, Signal Corps, Sani- 
 tary, Divisional, and Headquarters Detachments. They were 
 
 32 
 
scattered over an extensive area, and by the 25th of June we had 
 therefore only a small force, including the General's Guard, in 
 Beauval, while DouUens, Bonneville, Fiffes, Montrelet, Beaudri- 
 court, Sus St. Leger, Lucheux, le Souich, Bouquemaison, Grouches, 
 Milly, Ht. Vissee, Ivergny and Luchuel were all taken over by 
 our men. Our French gendarmes and the Interpreter, Mr. Boeg- 
 ler, just assigned, remained at Beauval. 
 
 Being the first time out on our own hook in a foreign coun- 
 try, the first couple of days had their difficulties, arranging quar- 
 ters and supplies. But the high quality of the men soon proved 
 itself, and gave them the foundation for a "get-along-under-any- 
 circumstances" habit, which is indispensable to a good outfit in the 
 field — -especially an M. P. organization. Any other military outfit 
 is usually together, at least most of the time. In continual touch, 
 under the immediate care and supervision of their officers. 
 
 With an M. P. outfit, it. is entirely different; if our case was 
 rather extreme, as we never had more than four officers, where we 
 should have had 9. An M. P. force is practically always scat- 
 tered over a considerable area; in groups of 4 to 12 men, with 
 one or more N. C. O.'s in charge. Owing to this, it is next to 
 impossible for the officers to pay more than an occasional visit to 
 the widely distributed posts, these soon becoming more or less in- 
 dependent units, necessarily, having to arrange all and everything 
 themselves, and under all conditions. 
 
 Under normal circumstances this, of course, is all simplified. 
 But* when the outfit Is in action and the base location hardly known, 
 when transportation of supply becomes the vital question because 
 neither transports nor supplies are to be had; when the work is 
 overwhelming, weary and dangerous; relief urgently needed, but 
 not forthcoming; when the strain has settled itself as an intense 
 irritation, and finally — ^when the campaign is being fought in a for- 
 eign country, where the language at all times increases the diffi- 
 culties — then the individual initiative and resourcefulness is the 
 only deciding factor, and when the men of the 102nd M. P. came 
 through such trying conditions with flying colors, their personal 
 aggressiveness and tact deserve the highest praise. 
 
 June 26th about 20 men left for the 4th Englfsh Army Corps 
 M. P. School at Merieux, being recalled already on the 30th, as 
 we were expected to move. And starting at midnight, July 1-2, 
 the 27th Division puUed out, and set sail north, to take over a sec- 
 tor on the Belgian front. 
 
 33 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Our men attached to the 53rd Brigade left oyer Candas those 
 with the 54th Brigade from DouUens. All remained and traveled 
 with their respective regiments. Getting off at Argues — some of 
 the trains were greeted with shells near St. Paul — we marched 
 through St. Omer to the assigned towns, St. Momelin, Lederzeele, 
 Wulverdinghe, Arnelce, Buyssheure, Broxeele, and Volkeringshove. 
 Our Headquarters moved up with Division Headquarters and 
 stayed at Nieurlet. From that day and until September 3rd we 
 were part of the 2nd British Army Corps (Headquarters at 
 Argues). The table gives the exact composition of the entire 
 force. 
 
 The remembrance, which probably first will present itself, 
 thinking of our three days' stay in these parts, will almost for cer- 
 tain be St. Omer. It was the first large town we struck since our 
 arrival in France, and incidentally it happened to be the last, too. 
 Until we, around the time the armistice was being signed, settled 
 down close to Amiens. 
 
 The Fourth of July being considered a holiday, most of us 
 had an opportunity to pay this old picturesque town a visit. A 
 good dinner and a stroll in the streets (didn't we tell you there 
 still were a few real streets left!) worked wonders. We began to 
 believe that we, after all, were human beings; a thing we lately had 
 doubted sincerely. And when we came back in the evening, over 
 the shaky boardwalk bridge road through the swamps, we were — 
 for the first time — treated to look at a barrage, even if it was quite 
 some distance away. The bombardment represented the prepara- 
 tory barrage over "Meteren," before the Australians, on the 5th 
 and 6th, attacked this important stronghold and wrested it from 
 the Germans. Strange enough, though, we hadn't seen any Aus- 
 sies at all, being so close to them. But they probably had enough 
 to do where they were, and so we had to satisfy our craving for 
 novelty, looking at the picturesque members of the Chinese labor 
 corps, who were building roads and trenches everywhere in the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 As the question at that time continuously was asked why we 
 were still only acting as reserves and not sent in to "do something." 
 Why the — apparently — numerous English troops, likewise, were 
 kept here and not brought to bear at the front, it is again neces- 
 sary to try a short explanation of the then dominating strategy. 
 
 First, then, we were still a battle Division in the making, be- 
 ing gradually whipped into battle trim, hardened up to meet the 
 
 34 
 
crucial test. And besides — well, that will be explained, answering 
 the next question. 
 
 Second, the English troops we saw were not fresh men. They 
 were the tired — dead tired — remains of the sorely tried and pun- 
 ished Divisions already referred to, at last relieved, and out for 
 rest and reorganization. This process lasted up to the middle of 
 July. It was an unavoidable necessity, a step which just couldn't 
 be delayed any longer, as all these Divisions were at the very point 
 of cracking, and had almost lost their morale. Everything else 
 could — at best — come in for a second consideration. 
 
 As it therefore in reality was a mere playing for time, this 
 
 32 Division 
 
 33 " 
 49 
 
 30 
 
 (American) 
 
 2 Corps 
 
 2nd English Army Corps 
 
 14, 96, 97, 19 
 
 98, 100, 146, 
 
 147, 148, 
 
 59, 60 (Amer.) Brig. 
 
 14 Division 
 39 
 
 
 7 Corps 
 
 41, 42, 43, 
 
 116, 117, 118, Brig. 
 
 29 Division 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 36 
 
 
 10 Corps 
 
 86, 87, 88, 21, 
 89, 90, 104, 
 105, 106, 107, 
 108, 109 Brg. 
 
 9 Division 
 31 
 40 
 
 1 
 
 (Australian) 
 
 IS Corps 
 
 26, 27, 92, 93, 
 
 94, 119, 120, 121, 
 
 183, 184, 
 
 1, 2, 3, 5 (Aust.) 
 
 Brig. 
 
 6 Division 
 41 
 27 
 
 (American) 
 
 19 Corps 
 
 6, 16, 18, 71, 
 122, 123, 124, 
 53, 54 (Amer.) 
 Brig. 
 
 Stage could fittingly be termed the period of active defense. The 
 lines were accordingly thinly held. A sector of the British right 
 flank taken over by the French, so as to further relieve men, when 
 the Germans had finally been brought to a standstill in the Lys 
 salient. Three more French Divisions were distributed in the 
 back area, acting as an emergency reserve, together with the four 
 American, and all the time the fiUIng-up process was progressing 
 favorably, by the now available English depot reserves. 
 
 The success of our arms in the Near East made It. possible to 
 transfer additional troops to the western front (2 Egyptian Di- 
 visions had just arrived and were camped near St. Omer). The 
 extensive railroad and trench schedule had almost been completed. 
 But the object was still rest and reorganization! 
 
 The beginning of July at last saw us in an assuring position, 
 
 35 
 
ready and capable of small offensives. And the taking of "Me- 
 teren" was the first undertaken on a larger scale since the trying 
 months of April and. May. 
 
 July 7th Division Headquarters moved up to Oudezeele, our 
 Headquarters following. Our camp was located at the crossroad 
 northeast of the town, the exact location in military terms being: 
 Sheet 27 — 1/40J000. J. 8. d. 7. 2. 
 
 Our details still remaining with the regiments were camped in 
 the surrounding country between Cassel and Wormhoudt^ Led- 
 ringhem and Abeele. It is impossible to give the whereabouts 
 with any certainty, anyway not for more than a day at a time. 
 They moved when their orphans moved, which meant daily. Every 
 one of them can. proudly, and. without boasting, point at the map 
 and say: "We have been everywhere." — They have! 
 
 July 8-9th the Division took over what is known as the East 
 Poperinghe or second line in the Mont-Kemmel sector. This line 
 was under constant, observation from Kemmel, and mercilessly 
 shelled day and night. As our details again trailed the Division, 
 every one of these men will probably be able to tell some little 
 story about their feelings, thoughts, and narrow escapes from some 
 inquisitive whiz-bang. There were plenty of them, so material for 
 such a tale ought to be abundant. 
 
 The first shell ! 
 
 If it is a near-by: a sharp whistletone in the air. A crash, 
 and an explosion with a peculiar, angry, "I-mean-business" detona- 
 tion. A — anyway,, the first couple of times — quick-as-lightning 
 softening of the kneecap and an unconditional "down" — mud or 
 no mud. 
 
 If it is a back-area shell : another, more long-drawn whistle- 
 tone. In one — the crash and explosion — way back. Somehow or 
 other it always sounds as if the projectile landed in a wood, ending 
 its, travel in a. bed. of branches,, these dimming the noise. It almost 
 sounds pretty. 
 
 But if it is a H. E. — one of those sweet things you don't hear 
 until after the hit — then you just wonder that you are still alive. 
 That's all. But it is a rather pleasant feeling at that — until the 
 next hits — closer! 
 
 And, if the ordinary shell types were not excitement enough, 
 there were always some unexpected gas shells to fall back on, or 
 the "tat-tat" of a machine gun (popu|arly known as "the crazy 
 carpenter"), but when that happened; |)ne was sure to be uncom- 
 fortably near the front line. Which," as jt was often very difficult 
 to detect on account of the undergi«bund warfare, only goes to show 
 that even a machine gun has a mission. 
 
 At our Headquarters at Oudezeele life was different. The 
 close co-operation with the Ejiglish set its mark. We had, up 
 to then-, been consideret^ a rather neat-looking crew, usually, com- 
 
merited on both for our horses and.general appearance. Our new 
 surroundings ehanged this opinion entirely. 
 
 Let us admit frankly that the "Tommie" in that respect has it 
 all over us. Each nation has its good and bad points, and the way 
 the English troops "turn out" is certainly most remarkable. We 
 admit our inferiority, however, with a certain pride, as but four 
 weeks in their company were sufficient to put our equipment in such 
 a shape that it was highly commended by the English officers. 
 
 But it naturally meant hard work. Accordingly, we began an 
 intensive cleaning-up and polishing campaign, which, single-handed, 
 would have won the war, if that had been the deciding factor. The 
 craze grew to such an extent that one man is actually known to 
 have walked almost half a mile to buy a tooth brush, but as he was 
 put in the guardhouse the same evening for being slightly intoxi- 
 cated, this might account for it. Another expressed as his sincere 
 belief that we would be ordered out to scrub the snow white in the 
 winter. If ithadn't been for the intermediate drills or the schools 
 we now had to attend, there is no saying to what heights we would 
 have risen. Any polish manufacturer could have made a fortune 
 on our products ! But the schools, drills, and details saved us. 
 
 Gasmask drill, especially, was vigorously practised. It ended 
 up, after a month's preparation, with a graduation performance, 
 which would have choked even Houdini. It consisted of 4 hours' 
 continuous walk and work in the torture instrument. Let it be said, 
 without going into further details, that 4 hours in a gasmask is just 
 what Sherman said about war in general — hell ! 
 
 But it soon proved to be a rather useful and necessary precau- 
 tion. On August 5th a German night raider dropped one of their 
 new inventions, an aeroplane gas bomb, near our camp. The wind 
 fortunately blew the gas away, thus saving us from casualties. 
 About the same time the schools opened their doors for our men. 
 
 Some of our N. C. O.'s went to'the gas-instructor's school at 
 Merkeghem, two went to the O. T. S., some others to the cooking 
 school at Pont Remy, and July 22nd, a few days after the arrival 
 of our horses and bicycles, a detail of not less than 25 men left for 
 the 2nd A. C, M. P. school at Camp Hamerhouck,_ near Cassel. 
 Some of these schools were very good, and gave besides the prac- 
 tical side of the course, daily lectures on this or that particular line, 
 by experts on the various subjects. It gave us opportunities to 
 study the "Tommies" at close range; get an idea of thtir way of 
 doitig things, backed up by their experience of four years of war. 
 It was a great help in our training, and, invariably resulted in our 
 men returning to camp with an entirely new vocabulary of Eng- 
 lish, in which words as "Para(i)de'' or "Carry-on"_ were predom- 
 inating, at the same time immensely impressed by their acquaintance 
 with one of the British Army's most picturesque figures — the Ser- 
 geant-Maj(g)or. , ^, j 
 
 About a week later some 35 men went up to the 6th and 41st 
 
 37 
 
English Divisions M. P. Headquarters for the same purpose. 
 These Headquarters, the Divisions being in the line, were situ- 
 ated between Abeele — Poperinghe. It meant practical experience 
 more than anything else, our men working in pairs with the English 
 M. P.'s, and taking over all patrols, traffic, stragglers, and battle 
 posts in the area. And the front area, at that time, was "no bon." 
 
 It therefore didn't last very long before we had acquired some 
 few valuable points as to how to exist in the shell-torn sector. They 
 may be summed up in two well-known phrases : "it is no use putting 
 your back up against a barrage, or even a lonesome 9.2," and "a 
 man alive is, at any time, of more value than a dead." This not 
 indicating that our men quit their posts when the shells came 
 crashing down around them. To tell the truth, they usually stayed 
 — when the Tommies jumped for the dugout. We believe that 
 these were the days we began to feel an increasing and justified pride 
 in our profession, hitherto often referred to as a "soft job." This 
 feeling originated when we all of a sudden found ourselves alone 
 in the landscape with some exploding whiz-bangs, while the sol- 
 diers we had just been talking to quickly disappeared to seek shelter 
 in the ruins or trenches. The M. P.'s face death just as often as 
 anybody else; it is only the forms of the rendezvous which are dif- 
 ferent. 
 
 Still waiting for the expected German attack, waging the 
 agreed-on "active defense" campaign, and with time working in 
 our favor, the end of July found a marked change in everything. 
 
 The aeroplane branch provided the most visible and convinc- 
 ing proofs. There the situation had been completely reversed. 
 Now it was "Fritz" who was bombed day and night, while his 
 planes were hopelessly outnumbered and beaten before they even 
 crossed "the line." His night raids, accordingly, became more and 
 more rare. 
 
 The process of refilling and reorganizing the British forces 
 had been completed; 52 strong divisions were available. Our su- 
 periority in artillery and tanks was growing every day. And, as 
 the weight of the American forces at last began to tell, the Ger- 
 mans, on July 15th, started their new — ^and last — drive, east and 
 southeast of Rheims, made some progress, and — were held. This 
 meant the climax and change in the fortunes of the war. 
 
 It meant that the Germans had made their final effort, and 
 failed. That their maximum strength had been passed, their re- 
 serves almost used up. July i8th General Foch launched his great 
 counter-attack, and as soon as it was well under way, progressing 
 favorably, the English began their drive on the entire front from 
 Montdidier— ^Albert, clearing Amiens and the Paris-Albert rail- 
 road. Another blow was struck at Arras, La Basse, and the Lys 
 salient. It was the last two which affected us and our operations. 
 
 From August 7th to 14th King George of England inspected 
 
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the 2nd Army Corps and the Flanders area. It meant several 
 "spic-and-span" turnouts for us, guarding and patrolling the roads 
 over which the royal escort were expected to proceed. We also 
 sent representatives to the big open field-mass at Terdegheni, a 
 memorial sermon for the 4th anniversary of the beginning of the 
 war. A sermon which might have ended dramatically as German 
 planes spotted the congregation, and doubtless would have ignored 
 that it was a church service if our planes had not driven them away. 
 
 Sunday the nth we had a local horse show at our camp at 
 Oudezeele. It was probably the first of its kind held by any A. E. 
 F. forces abroad, and — as already referred to — won the 102nd 
 M. P. much well-deserved praise and comment. Next day an- 
 other 35 men left for the 6th and 41st Headquarters at the front, 
 these two being considered the most valuable training grounds for 
 our men, giving us the full benefit of experience under actual battle 
 conditions. We were naturally only too glad for the opportunity 
 offered, especially as we expected to take over some sector in the 
 front line any minute. 
 
 But the training grounds east of the Droglandt road, known 
 as the gas alert zone, was also a dangerous vacation district. 
 South of our sector, our observers, for some time, had watched the 
 enemy removing his advance ammunition dumps to the rear. This 
 removal causing a marked decrease in artillery fire. On our front 
 we were not that fortunate. There, on the contrary, it looked as 
 if they preferred shooting away what they had instead of remov- 
 ing it. What looked like a sensible scheme at that, if it wasn't 
 because it is rather unpleasant when you happen to be in the area 
 where the excess dumping is going on. And artillery fire there 
 was. Unceasingly they shelled every trench where it looked as if 
 some work was going on, every patrol or dispatch rider who 
 exposed himself to their watchful eyes. Not only from Mt. Kem- 
 mel, the German batteries there having the advantage of a perfect 
 observation, but from the northern front as well, especially in the 
 Nieuwpoort dunes sector. If really our artillery fire was so su- 
 perior in marksmanship and quantity as the German prisoners said 
 it is easily understood why they so willingly surrendered. Their 
 fire could be uncomfortable enough. 
 
 The Steenvoorde road, our main artery for supplies, was 
 probably the one which suffered most — especially in the evening 
 between 5 and 11, these hours being the busy hours for the supply 
 detachment at the front. But the Wateau, Abeele, Poperinghe 
 roads were equally bad, and as we had mounted patrols and traffic 
 posts on all these roads day and night, the narrow escapes were 
 many. 
 
 Our Infantry, and Engineer details, who all this time had 
 'stuck doggedly to their respective outfits, had equally hard times. 
 Forth and back they followed their Regiment like shadows. In 
 
 40 
 
some cases they even went over the top with the infantry, being 
 without definite orders as to what to do during raids or attacks. 
 In others, they voluntarily left for the rear and brought up ammu- 
 nition or supplies to their friends in the trenChes, thus materially 
 helping to bring about the remarkable revelation we gradually ex- 
 perienced, being considered friends and useful, instead of a "neces- 
 sary evil." 
 
 These men, as said, have covered almost every inch of ground 
 on the map. They have slept near Dickebush Lake and in Steen- 
 voorde wood, names like Wippenhock, Reninghelst, la Clyte, Ou- 
 derdom, Scherpenberg, Lijssenthoek, and Steen-Akker sound as 
 familiar to them as Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street to a 
 New Yorker. 
 
 About this time, or Aug. 20-2.5th, reorganization rumors made 
 their appearance in camp. The P. M. G. had just begun the re- 
 organization of all M. P. units of the A. E. F. in France; each out- 
 fit to consist of I Captain (acting P. M.), i first, 2 second lieuten- 
 ants, and 200 men. The prevailing uncertainty as to the result of 
 this naturally created some temporary unrest and dissatisfaction, 
 but fortunately we left for the front on Aug. 24th, distributed at 
 Jebb Camp, Trappist Farm, and Douglas Camp, for a while for- 
 getting all about the rumors. Our removal to the front area meant 
 that the English M. P.'s from the 6th and 41st Divisions were 
 withdrawn (a few days later taking over the sector south of us), 
 leaving us in .undisputed possession of their former area, more pre- 
 cisely the former 6th Division sector. The 27th Division at the 
 same time, or rather on August 21st, taking over the front of the 
 Dickebush line, covered by 30th (American) Division on the left, 
 and 34th (English) on the right, 6th and 41st acting as reserves. 
 The change in the line-up was completed at a time when great 
 things were going on along the entire front. Right south of us, 
 in the Lys' salient we had made appreciable progress. The contin- 
 uous "nibMlAg" north and south- of the salient, had done it's work. 
 It began to give way! Aug. 19th English troops entered Merville, 
 kept up the pressure, finally resulting in the enemy's general re- 
 treat on the night, of Aug. 29-30th. From our camps up north we 
 watched the fires from his burning stores and dumps all of that 
 night, and as he evacuated Barilleul Aug. .30th and our scouts now 
 reported suspicious activities behind Mt. Kemmel, a general ad- 
 vance was ordered Aug. 31st, our Division attacking m the direc- 
 tion of Vierstaat Ridge, southeast of Dickebush Lake. 
 
 The German Divisions opposite our sector that last week were 
 the 236th, 8th,- S3rd and 52nd Infantry Divisions, covered north 
 bv the 6th Cavalry and ist Landwehr Division, south by the 22nd 
 Rifle and nth Reserve pivision. The i6th (Bavarian), 207th, 
 31st, 1 8th and 58th were possible reserves, all being part of Prinz 
 
 41 
 
Ruprecht's forces, and belonging to the Fourth German Army, 
 under General v. Arnam. 
 
 Events soon proved that our scouts were right. The enemy 
 really had begun his withdrawing, but he had left a strong rear 
 guard of machine gun detachments to cover the retreat, these again 
 covered by numerous field pieces, and aided by an intense cloud 
 screen. Our advance was therefore, slow, hesitating, and cau- 
 tious, so as to minimize the unavoidable losses as far as possible. 
 
 By Sept. 2nd we held a line running through Voormezeele, 
 Snipers Bahn, and the outskirts of Wytschaete to receive orders on 
 Sept. 3rd to withdraw for a rest, and new adventures at some other 
 part of the line. 
 
 The whole affair, ending up in a forced, still partly voluntary, 
 retreat, and not taking shape of an actual breaking-through battle, 
 didn't give us the full opportunity to show our real metal. But it 
 did offer us a wonderful practical training during the trying 5 
 weeks in the front area, and made us familiar with the intricate 
 details of the work at the front, hampered to a certain degree by 
 the English supervision which, for instance, made the prisoner-of- 
 war question, during the advance, rather complicated. 
 
 It was on one of the prisoners we found a map (we found 
 hundreds of them later on), for the first time having a red dotted 
 line, indicating: Der Gelandegewin bis zum Einsetzen der Feind- 
 lichen Gegenoffensiven, July 17, 191 8. 
 
 Was it an omen ? 
 
 Did they finally realize that they had reached their limits? 
 
 42 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Withdrawing on the 3rd of September, we stayed in Oude- 
 zeele over night. Next morning at 4 o'clock we marched to Pro- 
 ven, entrained, and left Belgium. But we didn't go alone ! 
 
 We brought with us some new friends we had made. Some 
 real friends who just refused to be left behind, and laughed at our 
 well-meant objections — the cooties ! 
 
 We had met them in some dugout, tent, or Nissenhut on a 
 cold night. They had found our company pleasant and comfort- 
 able, and made up their minds to stay. And as we didn't have any 
 means^ — water being worth gold — to start an active campaign so 
 as to prevent their entrenching warfare, they finally had it their way 
 — and stayed ! 
 
 Now cooties are not pleasant companions. To tell the truth, 
 they are rather bothersome. They proved it satisfactorily on our 
 trip from Belgium. And they never lost this reputation, until the 
 showers in Le Mans had drowned the very last. 
 
 Over Calais, Bologne, Doullens we proceeded to Candas, 
 spending most of the time on the train in a deathlike sleep. En- 
 training at Candas Sept. 5th, we hiked, hiked, or rode to Bouquesne, 
 this town being designated as our Headquarters, and thus found 
 ourselves returning to well-known camping grounds, as Beauval 
 was only a few miles away. 
 
 We were now part of the Third British Army and attached 
 to the 2nd American Corps, a fact which didn't prevent the reor- 
 ganization rumors from gaining fresh ground^ and getting more 
 persistent than ever. Depression and uncertainty was therefore 
 again in the air, but until further it only resulted in a detail of 25 
 men leaving for the 2nd Corps, located at Beauval. 
 
 Details left for all the 27th Division towns : Doullens, Hal- 
 loy, Famechon,- Thierres, Orville, Amplier, Authieule, Fresche- 
 villers, Terramisnil, Caumesuil, Raincheval, and Puchevillers. Our 
 mounted patrols and bicycle details took care of the roads. The 
 102nd Train Headquarters, to which we had formerly belonged, 
 severed the connections, consolidated themselves as an independent 
 office. This resulted in several changes of the commanding officer 
 — finally settled by the appointment of Colonel Taylor. 
 
 Sept. 1 8- 1 9th we were called on to participate in a big ma- 
 neuver. The problem consisted in distribution and replacing of 
 forces, the arrangement of dispatch and communication service dur- 
 ing an imaginary advance through a "spent" Division, taking over 
 their line, and continue their advance. The advance starting out 
 
 43 
 
from Berneuil, where Division Headquarters was supposed to be 
 situated, driving eastwards. The days previously, tank attacks, 
 alone or in connection with Infantry, had been demonstrated for 
 the Division. There couldn't therefore be very niuch doubt as to 
 what the whole arrangement meant. It meant back to the line — 
 and "toot sweet" ! Back, under entirely new conditions, to a place 
 where open field fighting was the menu of the day. An informa- 
 tion, which in itself didn't give much of a hint as to where that 
 would be, as the Germans everywhere were on the retreat. A 
 guess, however, was permitted. 
 
 The best and most deadly point for a break-through at- 
 tack would be a point bringing us dangerously close to their depot 
 centers and retreat line. Wherefore, as everybody knows that 
 Maubeuge was the pivot, and cork in the bottle neck leading back to 
 the Rhine, it logically ought to be somewhere between Queant and 
 St. Quentin. Ihis — to use a boxing phrase — would be "a right 
 uppercut to the jaw." 
 
 The prospects for the success of such a drive seemed justified, 
 as the operations against "the Hindenburg switch," east of Cam- 
 brai, on Sept. 2, had been extraordinarily successful. 
 
 It would sever the German communications to an unbearable 
 degree, and, if progressing as we hoped, practically cut the German 
 Army in two — provided they didn't retreat in time. 
 
 The guess proved to be fairly right. Sept. 23rd we entrained 
 from Authieule, spent an arctic-cold night in our well-known box 
 cars, gently comforted by the cooties, to find ourselves next morn- 
 ing (24th), shivering and half starved, in the wrecked ruins of 
 what was formerly a town called Tincourt. German signboards, 
 everywhere, stared into our eyes. Gas sifted from sewers and 
 water-filled shell craters, filling the air with a peculiar smell, which 
 spelled danger. Human bodies or horse carcasses stuck out from 
 beneath the brick piles; here an arm, there a leg. Sometimes it 
 looked as if the arm or leg was all that was left. Maybe it was, 
 who knows? 
 
 A driving rain broke loose. We formed and marched north. 
 The bicycles stuck or clogged up in the deep mud, so that this de- 
 tachment soon was left behind; most of the way carrying the im- 
 practical steel horses on their backs with the rest of their equip- 
 ment. But the rest kept up the march through another brick and 
 lumber pile — once the town of Longavesness — north over roads 
 sown with deserted Jerry-dugouts, arms and gasmasks, and at last 
 arrived at Aizecourt las Bas about 7 A. M.; our headquarters for 
 a day or two. 
 
 Our mounted men had already arrived the night before. They 
 left Beauquesne the 21st with the Division transports and trains 
 using the Amiens Highway, moving at night and resting during 
 
 44 
 

 
 
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 Fis. II by October 2nd 
 
45 
 
the day, to avoid discovery. It was an imposing convoy, composed 
 of some 600 vehicles and 2,200 animals, stayed over at Bray the 
 first day, arrived at St. Denis on the 23rd, dispersed, our men pro- 
 ceeding to Templeux la Fosse, and leaving again at daybreak for 
 our assigned camp site at Aizecourt le Bas, where we met them. 
 
 Finding another big assortment of German dugouts and piles 
 of sheetiron near our camp, it didn't take us long to make life 
 comfortable. Our requirement at that stage being only a hole in 
 the ground for shrapnel and bombshelter and our shelterhalf, or 
 some of the ironsheets over, to protect us against the rain. It 
 most probably wouldn't appeal to the average man under normal 
 conditions, but to us it looked like a five-room apartment with bath. 
 
 At that it must have appeared rather picturesque, situated as it 
 was on a hillside. A near-sighted professor would have stopped 
 to examine this new specie of field rats or moles, which was about 
 what it looked like. A German military graveyard just around 
 the roadbend and the restless walking around of the "Fieldgray" 
 in the Prisoner of War cage at the foot of the hill cheerfully re- 
 minding us "they" too had their hardships and casualties. A 
 thing we didn't doubt for a minute. We sincerely hoped so ! And 
 again our never-ceasing patrol — traffic — and guard duty began, 
 meeting difficulties exceeding our previous experiences by hundreds 
 and hundreds of per cent. The towns, rather the crossroads, for 
 the towns hardly existed, of Lieramount, Saulcourt, Longavesnes, 
 Templeux la Fosse, Villers-F'aucon, St. Emilie, Marquaix, Tin- 
 court, and Roisel were "besetzst," as the Germans call it. And our 
 German was improving immensely. The Division Headquarters 
 detail left for Bols de Buire, where Headquarters resided, and an 
 advance-guard for the Templeux le Guerard district, where the 
 Division Prisoner of War cage would be located when the attack 
 started. And there was no doubt either that it was going to be 
 some battle too. 
 
 The roads were jammed with traffic. Men and more men, 
 horses and still more horses, lorries and ever so many more lorries, 
 ambulances, ammunition, supply and guns roared and boiled there 
 as a river, ceaselessly, day and night, moving to and from the 
 front. 
 
 Sept. 27th our main body moved up to the Chalkpits at Tem- 
 pleux (F. 26. d, 8. 3.), now almost "comfortable," as the German 
 line had been pressed back some the last few days, meaning that 
 only about eight shells crashed into the dale behind every five min- 
 utes. And that isn't much — If they don't hit. A new assortment 
 of German dugouts were selected and inhabited. The white paint 
 for the expected Jerry prisoners got a last stir; and the evening 
 of the 28th found us strong and ready, although shivering with 
 cold, on the threshold — that at least we knew — of a big battle. 
 
 46 
 
But no man's land is a goblin sight 
 
 When patrols crawl over at dead o' night; 
 
 Boche or Belgian, British or French, 
 
 You dice with death when you cross the trench. 
 
 When the "rapid," like fire-flies in the dark, 
 
 Flits down the parapet spark by spark, 
 
 And you drop for cover to keep your head 
 
 With your face on the breast of the four months' dead. 
 
 This is not meant to be a finished description of the battle, for 
 which our space is too limited and our words too colorless, but I 
 wonder if we will ever forget the hell-like change from the com- 
 parative quietness up to five-fifty that morning, to the nerve-break- 
 ing noise when the barrage opened up. The nervous tension and 
 restlessness which caught everybody with an iron grip, knowing 
 that our infantry had left the jumping-off trench, gone over the top, 
 and started out on their dangerous adventure. 
 
 The wonderful color scheme, produced by the daybreak, the 
 smoke, the signal-flares, shell explosions, mud, and dust clouds, and 
 — the overworked imagination. The whir of the aeroplanes go- 
 ing over "the line," the scraping sound from the long row of tanks, 
 when they threw their mammoth bodies over the nearest crest and 
 wrung their way forwards through the noise and smoke com- 
 pound, as a procession of pre-historic monsters, creaking and 
 puffing under the strain. 
 
 The smell — sour, sticky, unexplainable — strangely reminding 
 you of the breeze which swept down on you from the scene, when 
 you witnessed your first theater performance. 
 
 And later 
 
 The hatred and pain you felt when some of ours — men, ani- 
 mals or machines — ^were hit. 
 
 The sight of the endless, heart-breaking line of wounded, 
 painfully dragging themselves to the rear, or being brought in on 
 a biopd-dripping stretcher, maimed and dirty beyond recognition, 
 unbroken in spirit, and with an ever-ready smile. 
 
 No Zola or Flaubert could ever write it, because no words 
 are strong enough. No painter — well, Veretchagin came close, 
 but, then again, pictures don't move. 
 
 And this is all movements, changes in expression and posi- 
 tions. Ugly, terrible, nightmare changes in this cruel, sardonic 
 battle with death. And then — the discovery — a discovery, which 
 usually comes very late — that you yourself are in a condition of a 
 half daze, which, invisible to others and hardly noticed by your- 
 self, makes you almost unconscious of the dangers, covers your 
 nerves with an unexplainable "something" which makes you proof 
 against the horrors around you, dopes you to forget, and hardly 
 think about things which otherwise would make the gamest sick to 
 the core. 
 
 That you, practically unaffected, are doing your work, fever- 
 
 47 
 
ishly looking for any and all opportunities to lendia hand, not only 
 because your heart is in it and you want to do your bit, but because 
 it is the only way to minimize a dreadful' feeling of helplessness 
 which tortures your heart, seeing air the suffering around you and 
 being so utterly at bay, as to how to relieve it. 
 
 But — to leave the fiction part of it, and consider the military 
 problem, the battle of Sept. 29-3oth, best known as the battle for 
 the Hindenburg Line — really started on the 27th, or, to be very 
 correct, on the night of the 26-27th, when a heavy bombardment 
 opened up along the whole front of the I, III and IVth English 
 Army Corps, followed by a preliminary attack by the I and IIP 
 Corps, so as to decdve the enemy as to the place where the real 
 attack would fall. On the 27th the two American divisions (the 
 27th and 30th), now part of the IVth English Army Corps, rein- 
 forced and supported; with tanks and covered by the usual artillery 
 and machine gun barrage, attempted some minor attacks, whose 
 only object was to straighten; out some bends in our line and dis- 
 lodge the enemy from his strong advance posts in front of the St. 
 Quentin Canal, an important link in the "Hindenburg-stellung." 
 Our efforts were especially concentrated around Guillemont and 
 Quennemont farms, and succeeding in these operations which doubt- 
 less prepared the Germans for what was coming — an information 
 they couldn't use to much advantage, as the, unceasing, bombard- 
 ment kept them in the dugouts and tunnels, and made it almost im- 
 possible for them to bring up supplies — the, 28th was used as a 
 rest-day before the big attack. At 5 150 in the morning on Septem- 
 ber 29th the real battle started. A^ battle which unfortunately 
 was going to cost the Division so dear, but at the. same time give 
 Us a glorious name. The German Divisions opposite our front 
 were the 2nd Prussian Guard — 232d, 54th, 185th, 121st and 75th 
 I. D., and on the second day the 24th and 34th. Two of these 
 Divisions had been reorganized, so that for instance 1.53rd Infantry 
 Regiment — our old friends from Mt. Kemmel and. then-part of the 
 8th Prussian Division — now was part of the 121st. 
 
 North and south the 21st, 20th and 5 th Reserve. Divisions 
 were to be found, while the Alpine Corps — 202d, io8th, 50th, 
 243rd, 232nd, 80th and 13th Divisions — who most of them had 
 been- in the line previous to our appearance — were possible reserves. 
 
 On our side the 27th and 30th American, 3rd and 5th Aus- 
 tralian, and 46th, 1st and 6th Divisions of the 9th British Corps 
 participated, covered by the 4th and 5th Corps of the 3rd British 
 Army Corps on our left, and the loth French Army, on our right. 
 As the battle is history and probably later on will be described in 
 full by men in possession of all the necessary information, it is use- 
 less to go into too mai\y details, but — as the position, by the ex- 
 perts, has been claimed to be one of the very strongest in the Hin- 
 denburg system — it is only fair to give an idea of the obstacles 
 
 48 
 
49 
 
which had to be overcome. Our line, on the morning of the 29th, 
 ran approximately as indicated on the accompanying map. The 
 27th Division facing Bony and Mt. St. Martin, the 12th and i8th 
 (Engineers), Vendhuille, further north; 30th Division, Bellicourt 
 and Nanroy; the 46th (English), BellengUse, and the ist and 
 6th (English) Division further south, with the 3rd and 5th Aus- 
 tralians moving up close behind the Yankee Divisions, who were 
 expected to meet the hardest resistance. 
 
 A canal called the St. Quentin Canal ran parallel with the front 
 in its entire length, passing through an underground tunnel from 
 Vendhuille to Bellecourt, and from there on and south gradually 
 working its way out until it, a little north of Bellenglise, reaches 
 practically level soil. From Bellicourt, and for about a mile, the 
 canal cutting is very steep, at some places some 75 feet, but — con- 
 trary to general belief — the canal itself was hardly meant to be the 
 main defense line, but only drawn in as a valuable link in their 
 deep defense system, extending from the first barbed-wire line, 2,000 
 yards west of the canal, to the Beaurevoir-Fonsomme positions, 
 located about a mile behind the original Hindenburg line running 
 through the sugar factory northeast of Nanroy. 
 
 The tunnel itself was a roomy and bombproof shelter for 
 troops at rest, at the same time serving as shelter during the pre- 
 liminary bombardment for the trench forces, being connected with 
 these by numerous shafts and tunnels, while naturally the top of 
 the canal cuttings were sown with machine gun emplacements, both 
 of the concrete and open-field type. 
 
 Another wire entanglement ran 1,000 yards behind the first 
 line, immediately in front of the canal, both of them covered by 
 the machine guns on the canal edge, and the numerous minor de- 
 fense behind and between, all of it under direct fire from the origi- 
 nal Hindenburg positions and Beaurevoir-Fonsomme Hne. 
 
 The whole system extended to a depth of almost 12,000 yards. 
 After our first set-back, caused by a deadly enfilading machine gun 
 fire from the towns, which had been passed through too quickly by 
 our gallant, fast-advancing infantry, nothing could stop us. The 
 St. Quentin Canal was crossed, the impregnable Hindenburg line 
 broken from le Catelet to Lesdin, a terrible hole dented in the Ger- 
 man defense system, and the pressure so unceasingly forced home 
 that October 2nd saw us in possession of Goye, Lormlsset, Wlan- 
 court, Ramicourt, Precelles, and Levergies, in a rather uncomfort- 
 able position, that's true, harassed as we were by the German ar- 
 tillery, now taking due advantage of their opportunity to punish 
 our left flank, but confident as to the final result, knowing as we did 
 that we could count on reserves. 
 
 How terrible the German losses had been can best be ascer- 
 tained by the fact that the 54th Division and what was left of the 
 2nd Prussian Guard were all that was still in the line of the Enemy 
 
 50 
 
51 
 
Divisions which had faced us on the opening day, the vacant places 
 being taken over by the 21st, 119th (part), 84th, 241st and 25th 
 Reserve Divisions. 
 
 And on the 2nd of October the Division returned to the back 
 area for a much-needed rest, leaving the stage for somebody else 
 for a few days. 
 
 As the physiognomy, objects, and results of the battle have 
 now been given, it is about time to memorize our part in "the big 
 stunt." 
 
 Of course, we all had an idea from the Belgian front what 
 M. P.'s meant to the success and welfare of a modern army. But 
 then again, our engagements there had only been minor operations 
 compared with this. Now we knew! 
 
 The way we kept the traffic going was — so we have been told 
 by the authorities — excellent, to say the least. And, don't forget, 
 the M. P.'s have a far better chance to be blamed than commended 
 for their work. Everything goes right; well, that is only what is 
 expected, and, naturally, does not extract any praise. . 
 
 But — things may go wrong! A direct hit changes a lorry to 
 kindling-wood, sends the horses down in a sprawling heap. The 
 traffic is blocked. 
 
 It is not your fault, sure enough, but when Authority appears 
 on the scene, the chances are nine out of ten that the verdict in- 
 variably will be guilty. It is only human judgment, one of the 
 curses of our service. 
 
 When our outfit could go through an affair like the Hinden- 
 burg battle with a traffic-congestion as the one we met those days, 
 hampered by the intense shell fire, the muddy, worn-out roads and 
 natural, ever-present nervousness and confusion, without any seri- 
 ous breakdowns, it is more than luck — it is efficiency. 
 
 There is no reason in the world concealing that our traffic 
 men, mounted and dismounted patrols, straggler, and battlepost 
 details, who, stretched out over the entire area covering Tincourt, 
 Roisel, Templeux le Guerard, Saulcourt, Villers-Faucan, St. Emilie, 
 Lempire, Basse-Boulogne, Ronssoy, and Duncan post, the connect- 
 ing roads, including those leading forward into enemy territory as 
 far as it was possible to go, and who all lent a hand to this all- 
 important question, did work which was imminent in its morbid, 
 ceaseless execution, and placed the 102nd" M. P. on par with any 
 similar organization, anywhere, regardless of nationality, or what- 
 ever advantage they might have of more experience. 
 
 Our handling of prisoners — also commented on — must like- 
 wise have been very good. Unlike our English, French, or Aus- 
 tralian colleagues, our men, following our infantry closely, imme- 
 diately relieved these of their prisoners, escorted them to the Di- 
 vision cage, from which they were sent to the Corps Cage after 
 due searching, marking, registering, and identification. Some 14 
 officers and 600 men was our Division's share. While a job we 
 
 52 
 
all silently hated — collecting and handing over to the respective 
 Headquarters of "stragglers" — was made pleasantly easy for us 
 by the almost incredible small number of such we encountered. 
 
 These being our assigned duties — besides, of course, as always 
 being considered a living information bureau, expected to know the 
 locations of the numerous Division, Brigade, Regimental, Battery, 
 and Battalion Headquarters, the whereabouts of this or that Army 
 unit in the line, even down to Platoons or Companies, the positions 
 of Batteries, Supply and Ammunition Dumps, Ambulance Com- 
 panies and Dressing Stations — a problem which in itself is ex- 
 tremely difficult, as such locations often change three or four times 
 a day during a battle — these being our assigned duties, our men, 
 however, didn't stop there. 
 
 Dead tired from want of sleep — for our outfit was taxed so 
 heavily that relief was practically impossible, and 48 to 72 hours 
 at a stretch was a rule rather than an exception; starving, for in a 
 battle like this, the rations for the human material is only second 
 consideration — our men would continuously be found everywhere, 
 aiding the walking wounded on the dreary, painful way to the 
 Dressing Stations, trying to comfort them and cheer them up, lo- 
 cating the dead bodies or unfortunate wounded who had fallen in 
 some obscure, hidden place, where they might otherwise have de- 
 tected discovery and help. Clearing the roads of their sorrowful 
 obstacles of dead bodies of men or horses, of the splintered lorries, 
 gun carriages, tanks, or field pieces. The 102nd M. P.'s won the 
 doughboys' admiration on those very days, and — we do not con- 
 sider a higher reward possible. 
 
 As our casuals at the front on those strenuous days only con- 
 sisted of seven slightly wounded or gassed, we would indeed have 
 been a happy bunch when we were finally withdrawn, if an incident, 
 which for once makes us break our rule of not mentioning any 
 names, had not weighed heavily on our minds — the death of Cal- 
 lahan. 
 
 Guarding an important crossroad near Saulcourt, he was hit 
 by an aeroplane bomb about 7 o'clock in the evening on Sept. 26th 
 from one of the numerous German night raiders who harassed our 
 lines of communications day and night, on the days previous to the 
 attack. We are happy to know — when he did have to pay the ex- 
 treme sacrifice — that he died instantly. He was buried the follow- 
 ing day at Templeux la Fosse with military honors, and his memory 
 will be treasured by all of us as a s,plendid comrade and fine soldier. 
 
 ■53 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Relieved by the Australians at midnight, October i-2nd, we 
 remained in the Templeux Quarry until 8 A. M., October 2nd. A 
 detail was left at Ronssoy to pick up possible stragglers. Our per- 
 manent Division Headquarters details remained at Bois de Buire 
 and Tincourt. The rest of the outfit retired to Aizecourt le Bas, 
 next morning proceeding to Peronne — as we thought, for a long 
 rest. 
 
 Peronne was, of course, the usual heap of ruins. The formei; 
 Cathedral, so famous and beautiful, a mere mountain of brick, 
 marble and colored glass fragments. The tumbledown pillars and 
 century-old woodwork giving a faint idea of its former splendor — 
 and the extent and quality of German "kultur." 
 
 In some houses, which — miracuously — had stood up during 
 the bombardments, we put up for the night for a change and nov- 
 elty sleeping in German-made beds, found stored away in the cel- 
 lars. When we had put them together we turned in and enjoyed 
 the first good night's sleep in nine days, undisturbed by inquisitive 
 bombs, "toot-sweeters," "whiz-bangs," or "coal-boxes." It was 
 very kind, "Fritz" ; we thank you ! We fooled you that time ! 
 
 Our rest, however, shouldn't be long. Things were going so 
 favorably that it was only a matter of keeping up the pressure, pre- 
 vent the enemy from getting the rest he so sorely needed, and the 
 crack was bound to come, sooner or later. 
 
 The following day, therefore, already saw us in activity again. 
 A mounted detail returned to Ronssoy, picked up the detail there 
 and advanced to Villeret (or Hargi court — it was almost impossible 
 to distinguish). Another went to la Chapelette, reporting to the 
 II American Corps Replacement Camp. 
 
 October 5th saw our Headquarters in Roisel, quartered in an 
 old condemned English Prisoner of War cage, again listening to the 
 familiar sound of the 4.2, 5.9, 7.5 and 9.2's, mixed with an occa- 
 sional aeroplane bomb around 10 P. M. as a fitting period for the 
 day's diary. 
 
 And October 6th, Tincourt, Roisel, Herville, Hesbecourt, 
 Jeancourt, Templeux le Guerard, Hargicourt, Villeret, le Verguier, 
 and all important crossroads and road switches were covered by our 
 men once more. 
 
 The shelling In the area was worse than ever. The Germans 
 still held on stubbornly north of le Catelet and shelled the country 
 mercilessly and with an accuracy, easily explained by their long resi- 
 dence, before we took over the flat. Walls and covers were razed 
 
 54 
 
ss 
 
away with a regularity far from assuring. Those were indeed the 
 days of miraculous escapes. 
 
 Doubtless our problem and success in keeping the traffic going 
 on the all-depending "plank road" from Villeret-Hargicourt to 
 Bellecourt was at that time our finest achievement. "The Plank- 
 road" — as the name indicates — was a rough, lumber-bridge road 
 laid out over the swamps, replacing the old roads leading east from 
 Hargicourt, these being either worn out, destroyed or useless on ac- 
 count of fire. It was practically the only road over which the supply 
 for at least five Divisions (among these the 30th American, pre- 
 paring for a new advance on the 8th) with an artillery running into 
 thousands of guns, could be brought up. It was a problem calling 
 for a cool head, initiative, and nerves of steel. 
 
 The traffic was tremendous; slow beyond despair. The two 
 opposite-moving animal and truck lines could hardly pass each other. 
 Sometimes they would come to a dead stop, when a vehicle slid out 
 from the boards into a shell crater. Sometimes to a halt for a full 
 hour when a shell hit the road, splintering men, mules, horses and 
 lorries, and barred the way for the thousands behind, anxiously 
 scouting for the next shell, while they impatiently waited for the 
 ambulances and repair crew to make up for the damage. Fortu- 
 nately the direct hits were comparatively few. But that the enemy 
 didn't put down a barrage the entire length of the road will prob- 
 ably forever remain a mystery to all concerned, so much more as 
 they were in a position to do so — their line running almost parallel 
 with the road from le Catelet to Montbrehain. They,- without a 
 doubt, knew its importance and the immense congestion, that the 
 destruction would mean a serious breakdown of communication for 
 our attacking forces; only a paralyzing confusion on his own part 
 seems to explain the enemy's failure to take full advantage of this 
 remarkable opportunity. 
 
 October 7th Headquarters moved up to Bellicourt, leaving 
 most of our details where they were. As we remained there a few 
 days, we had time to look around and explore. The St. Quentin 
 tunnel naturally being the first object for investigation. It was here 
 it dawned on us how low the morale was getting in the Imperial 
 Army, because that such positions could be taken was almost beyond 
 belief. But the graveyard was probably the place attracting the 
 most attention. It was the first time we had seen Jerry use graves 
 as dugouts. Deliberately blown them up, thrown the corpses out 
 and "entree" — all ready for the tenant. All provided that it wasn't 
 too much bother getting the dead owner up — in which case, he just 
 stayed. Why, it was only a dead corpse ! 
 
 It was in Bellecourt, too, we discovered that rats are intelli- 
 gent, almost in possession of "musical sense." Yes, sir! 
 
 They know the difference between a "whiz-bang" and a "toot- 
 sweeter." Knew that ordinrrily the last meant some kind of bar- 
 
 56 
 
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 57 
 
rage fire, that what was left of the house most likely would crash 
 down in a few minutes. Accordingly they squeaked miserably when 
 the firsf "toot" whistled in the air. It sounded ugly — especially if 
 the rat was gassed; but it didn't keep us awake many minutes at 
 that. 
 
 And all this time we slowly but surely pressed the enemy back, 
 now in a slight northeasterly direction. The 30th Division, fight- 
 ing with the 66th and 25th (English), took Brancourt, Serain, 
 and Fremont on October 8th. • On the 9th we passed through or 
 entered Busigny, Becquigny, Escaufourt, and Bohain, clearing the 
 area In front of this new line to such an extent that the important 
 St. Quentin-Busigny-Cambrai railroad was available by October 
 1 2th, and following the advance closely, our mounted and dis- 
 mounted men — reinforced by our details left behind and now called 
 in (except the Roisel, Division Headquarters and Replacement de- 
 tail) — in the same space of time crept up through Nanroy, Estrees, 
 Magny, Joncourt, Waincourt, Precelles, and Levergles to Raml- 
 court, Montbrehain, and Brancourt. 
 
 The evening of October nth a dispatch rider notified the dif- 
 ferent units to report at Brancourt next day. October 1 2th found 
 the entire outfit assembled there. 
 
 Meantime, a considerable change In our surroundings had 
 taken place. Previously we had fought In country over which the 
 fortunes of victory had wavered forth and back, completely eras- 
 ing and annihilating every sign of previous life. 
 
 With our entrance of Estrus-Joncourt these conditions 
 changed. The country we now operated In had for four years un- 
 disputed been under the German yoke. The civilian population, 
 provided useless for any military purpose, had been permitted to 
 remain, being more valuable for the German Army this way, to be 
 sent to the rear hurriedly when we forced them to withdraw. As 
 our artillery, as far as possible, spared the towns, the houses there 
 offered considerably better quarters than we were used to. The 
 hurried retreat left beds and mattresses for our convenience, chairs, 
 tables and stoves, in one case even a piano, from which Chopin, Mo- 
 zart, Beethoven, and ragtime floated out in the night for four hours 
 straight, relief immediately being provided when the artist threat- 
 ened to break down under the strain. Brancourt was typical of a 
 town in this stage. But was the town itself fairly well pre- 
 served, the outskirts easily made up for it; especially south of the 
 town, near the civilian and German military graveyards. The 
 sights there gave ample answers why German machine gunners were 
 such rare specimens in our P. of W. batches. Crew after crew was 
 lying killed in a heap over their guns. They were our enemies and 
 had doubtless caused us heavy losses, but it was impossible but to 
 admire them, and wonder what the rest of the Imperial army would 
 
 58 
 
59 
 
do if they didn't have men lilce these to cover their retreat and delay 
 our advance. 
 
 As Captain Ackerly had been transferred to the 107th Infan- 
 try, Captain Dieges from the 102nd Engineers took over the va- 
 cancy, and the same evening, already late, our exhausted men had to 
 pull out again, as we received orders to have Bohain, Busigny and 
 Becquigny covered before 5 .-45 next morning. About midnight the 
 60 men left. It was a nasty trip, pitch dark, raining and cold. 
 Walking straight for Bohain, the Fremont road being momentarily 
 shelled, they fell in the shell holes continuously, stumbled over wire 
 or bodies. Roads hardly existed, and if they did were impossible 
 to trace in the rain and dark, except when the gun flashes lit up the 
 night for a second or two. From Bohain and north they walked 
 parallel with the German lines for two miles, gas shells whistling 
 overhead and spraying out behind them. But fortunately they es- 
 caped discovery by the German machine guns, and were at the as- 
 signed stations in time — to find the attack postponed. 
 
 Early in the morning, on October 13th, our Headquarters and 
 main force, leaving a detail in Fremont, moved up to Busigny, a 
 rather unhealthy resort. Our kitchen was welcomed by shells, 
 taking the corner off the next house and splintering a beautiful glass 
 veranda. The mess line, just formed, disappeared mysteriously; 
 and for a whole day it was a matter of serious consideration if stew, 
 prepared under more peaceful surroundings, but guaranteed free 
 for glass and bricks, wouldn't be more preferable. By evening the 
 question had been settled. None as yet killed or wounded, the 
 kitchen crew gamely stuck to their job. It made us sure of our 
 daily stew — the stew, everything considered, being the only thing 
 we will never forgive them. Division Headquarters was hit in the 
 afternoon, with the result of two officers killed and three or four 
 men wounded. A British picket line, after considerable casuals in 
 men and horses, forced to move. Our men on posts 5 and 6 had 
 to seek cover continuously, post 5 virtually being evacuated twice, 
 condemned by the Department of Health. 
 
 The streets, roads, railroad, dressing stations and church 
 (where we had a guard over the stolen gold — and silverware, 
 nicely packed in boxes and trunks and addressed to officer — rela- 
 tions in "der Vaterland") got their share of the regular bombard- 
 ment, and made the gamest look around for a cellar which would 
 give some protection against "der eisener fist." But finding a cellar 
 was one thing, and being able to get down into it, something else. 
 Hundreds of refugees from the town itself — Menneresse, St. Sou- 
 plet, Escaufourt and Vaux-Andigny — had already packed them far 
 above their capacity. We sent about 1,000 of them back to Rbisel 
 and another 100 to C. C. S., during the following days. Neverthe- 
 less, we did find a few roomy and empty. But a lighted match soon 
 explained the reason for this startling discovery. They were filled 
 
 60 
 
German line. Fig. I shows situation before attack. 
 FiR. II by October 21st 
 
with water — i to 2 feet dirty, stinking sbm — and our friends, the 
 rats. 
 
 Again we doubt human beings ordinarily would appreciate their 
 comfort. We found them worth a couple of millions, placed a cou- 
 ple of barrels in the lake, boards over, and slept soundly, dreaming 
 about Venice and gondolas. Having already daily sent out patrols, 
 our mounted men doing most of this preliminary work, toward St. 
 Souplet, St. Martin and Vaux-Andigny, the towns being the final 
 object, and an impossible one, as they were all in reality "no man's 
 land," the battle at last started October 17th, to last for four days. 
 Saying the battle is not quite correct. It was really two independ- 
 ent battles, ending up in some obstinate rearguard actions, until the 
 English, on October 21st, when our Division was "spent," again 
 took up the burden, forcing home a new attack on a great scale. 
 
 The object on the first day was to force the la Sele River, as 
 the St. Quentin canal stubbornly defended on account of its value 
 as a tank defense, and on the second, when the crossing had been 
 successfully carried out, to carry the Jonc de Mer ridge, covering 
 the ground immediately in front and north of Arbre Guernon, a 
 part of the defense system known as the Wotan line. 
 
 Strong as this position undeniably was, it was a natural strong- 
 hold more than anything else. The proposed defense system had 
 not been completed, the trench and wire lines were only partly 
 constructed, but the wooded and rolling country, as already said, 
 lent itself admirably to a defensive campaign. 
 
 As the German divisions we fought against at the HIndenburg 
 line were more or less wiped out, we faced an entire new line-up, al- 
 though the 84th and 122nd Infantry Regiments, or rather what was 
 left of them (formerly with the 54th Division), had been consol- 
 idated with the 478th and 479th Infantry Regiments into a new 
 Division called the 243rd. This, the 3rd Naval (hurried down 
 from Cambrai), 17th Rifle (Including another of the regiments 
 from the 8th Prussian Division, Mont Kemmel — the 72nd Infantry 
 Regiment), 204th, 24th and 15th Rifles (25th, 69th Infantry Reg- 
 iment and the "Tilsitz Landsturm"), were our opponents. 
 
 All of these Divisions had recently been reorganized, some of 
 them for Heaven only knows what time, but at any rate so often 
 that the men hardly knew their Division number, and in most cases 
 were absolutely Ignorant as to who their officers were. 
 
 If further proof was needed to what extent the Germans were 
 short of men, here it was, and when the 1 13th and 142nd Infantry 
 Regiments (remnant of the 29th Division) finally was thrown In on 
 the second day to fill the gap (3rd Naval Division nearly wiped 
 out), the confusion was complete. 
 
 October 17th at 5 :20 A. M., the attack was finally launched, 
 the delay made necessary to Improve the communications. It cov- 
 ered a lo-mile front from le Cateau south, our hne consisting of 
 
 61 
 
46th, I St, 6th, 50th and 66th English, 27th ^nd 30th American 
 Divisions. 
 
 During the first two days the resistance was obstinate. The 
 German artillery seemed more powerful than in the Hindenburg 
 affair. They stayed longer, too, what our P. of W. records can 
 prove, as the 27th Division alone took 16 artillery officers those 
 days. 
 
 The 19th the resistance was broken. Although raining, 
 muddy and foggy, the 27th had crossed the river, despite an in- 
 tense bombardment, constructed bridges, and carried the Jonc de 
 Mer heights, but nearing the St. Maurice River, a small stream in 
 front of Catillon, and about three and one-half miles northeast of 
 St. Souplet, the resistance again stiffened, until the 3rd British Army 
 on the night of October 20th opened a new drive north of le Ca- 
 teau, which threatened the German flank, and forced them to fall 
 back. October 21st saw us in possession of St. Martin, Bazuel, 
 Molain, Wassigny, Arbre Guernon, Ribeauville, Mazinghien, St. 
 Souplet, and la Valle Mulatre, our Division had made a gain of 
 almost 5 miles, and 42 officers and about 1,600 men had been taken 
 prisoners in 4 days. 
 
 As to our small share in the big outcome, the 102nd M. P. on 
 October i6th withdrew the details from Becquigny and Bohain, and 
 the patrols on the Vaux-Audigny road, the 30th American Division 
 moving in south of us, taking over Becquigny and Bohain being 
 British domain. 
 
 Same evening at i8th hour (battle time) a detail reported at 
 107th Infantry Headquarters, advancing to St. Souplet next morn- 
 ing with the regiment. On the 17th about 5 A. M. another left 
 for Menneresse, and a third for Escaufort, at that time also used 
 as base for our mounted men. The Busigny posts 1-5' remained 
 as before, reinforcement being sent to post 5, where the Division 
 P. of W. cage was located. And as developments the following 
 days necessitated additional posts, especially at St. Souplet and the 
 Advanced Dressing Stations, every available man, including wag- 
 oners, horseshoers, clerks and cooks, were soon forced into the 
 break to satisfy the requirements. 
 
 The morning of the 17th proved to be rather costly. Moving 
 Into position, just when our barrage opened, our details and mounted 
 men were caught in the German counter barrage. Before noon we 
 had not less than 6 men wounded, and, shells and gas being plenti- 
 ful, it seemed certain that it wouldn't be the last. 
 
 Our details at St. Souplet, without any doubt, got the worst of 
 it. For two whole days they were in the midst of his frantic bom- 
 bardment put down on the town to prevent us from using the bridge 
 they had blown up but which we had repaired, or the construction 
 of additional bridges for the Artillery and Supply. Unceasingly 
 the shells crashed into the town, and when the men sought cover in 
 
 62 
 
German Aeroplane-picture taken over our line north of Bohain 
 
 63 
 
the ruins, the poisonous gas would stretch out its cruel hand to 
 finish what the shrapnels had left undone. 
 
 The gas didn't succeed, but it came close enough. Luck, and 
 nothing else, saved our men, who sometimes had to work hours at 
 a time in the gas masks. And when they finally came out on the 
 2 1 St, they were all hoarse, red-eyed and coughing, but fortunately 
 the cases were all slight. 
 
 The mounted men and the other details in that sector had 
 equally dangerous experiences, even if the shelling behind Souplet 
 was less intense, when the first assault was over. While our right 
 flank, cut by the Premont-Vaux-Audigny road— the main vein for 
 supply — all the time was in for heavy fire, lasting up to the very 
 last day. The P. of W. cage, situated in the southeast corner of 
 the crossroad at post 5, was thus the constant victim for "stray 
 shells," naturally intended for the road but landing all over the 
 field. October 21st the entire outfit reported at Brancourt, stayed 
 there over night, and next day "a la Australian," which means "by 
 hopping lorries," returned to the P. of W. cage at Roisel — for a 
 real rest, at last! 
 
 It is doubtful if anybody can give much of an account of our 
 two days' stay there. We just turned in and fell to sleep — slept as 
 only a man taxed to the utmost of his endurance can sleep — and, 
 what's more, we deserved it ! 
 
 For four weeks we hadn't been out of our clothes. For four 
 whole weeks every man had been under a continuous, sappinjg strain 
 — mentally and physically. We had gone in with our Division on 
 the 25th. Withdrew with it on October 2nd, but were already 
 sent up again the next day to remain in the line until October 21st. 
 During these four weeks we had followed the crest of our advance 
 yard by yard. Our men were often worn out to the verge of an 
 utter collapse, but they gamely stuck it out, refused to be relieved, 
 even if any number of them were fit for a hospital bed, and when we 
 finally withdrew they were still all "in it" — even if dead tired and 
 only a hair's-breadth from breaking down under the tremendous 
 effort. A 41-kilometer advance was our reward; 6,000 prisoners 
 had gone through our hands, our traffic, patrol, straggler and bat- 
 tlepost records were beyond reproach; if an indication of the M. 
 P.'s energy and anxiousness still needs any comment, such is easily 
 illustrated by citing an Australian officer's words, when some of our 
 eager men came up and asked for the direction to a certain town, 
 where they were going to establish a post: "Now, wait a minute, 
 boys; you can't enter a town before it is taken." That was exaetly 
 the spirit of the men of the 102nd M. P., the spirit which caused 
 one of the German officers to say about our infantry: "We can kill 
 them, but we can't stop them." That was exactly the spirit which 
 kept our men going — and made them fall down in a heap, when the 
 work was done and the strain off. 
 
 64 
 
65 
 
October 24th, late in the afternoon, we marched to the rail- 
 road station to entrain for Corbie. Just swinging out of camp, the 
 railroad tracks blew up, destroyed by the explosion of a "time-fuse" 
 left behind by Jerry as a fitting souvenir. It meant a momentary 
 para;lysis of the traffic, and made us march to Tincourt for our 
 train. Further delay there caused us to spend an ice cold night in 
 the open. About 5 A. M. we were finally notified that traffic had 
 been re-established, and at dinnertime we pulled into Corbie. 
 
 Corbie, as Villers-Bretonneux further south, had seen the cli- 
 max of the German drive. It was here they were definitely stopjjed, 
 and it was these towns which had been used as the jumping-off points 
 when our counter drive started. They were therefore naturally 
 badly battered, and the houses far from waterproof, but they pro- 
 vided fair quarters, and, what was far more important, rest and 
 quiet. 
 
 In this area the Division rested and reorganized for about 3 
 weeks. Both being equally essential, as our losses had been ter- 
 rible. The villages all being small, the Division was scattered 
 around in a string of towns centering on Corbie, and a few days 
 after we were therefore again called out, to garrison Amiens, Vil- 
 lers-Bretonneux, Bussy, Vecquemont, Bonnay, Daours, and Vaux- 
 sur-Somme. 
 
 October 31st Major Shanton was relieved of the command, 
 and Captain Ceballos made A. P. M. The reorganization thus at 
 last being a fact. Captain Dieges was transferred. Two N. C. 
 O.'s went to the Military Police O. T. S. Noveniber 4 and_ 5th we 
 participated in the 2nd American Corps' big Division Athletic Meet 
 near la Neuville. November loth our Division held a Memorial 
 Parade for our killed on a field southwest of Corbie. At the same 
 time the proudest and saddest ceremony in the Division's history. 
 But why deny that all this came only second compared with the all- 
 important question: Peace! Yes or no? 
 
 The possibility for this seemed very bright. 
 
 Turkey and Bulgaria had capitulated, Austria collapsed. The 
 new attacks directed against Valenciennes, the Tournay salient, the 
 Meuse line, in the Argonne, north and south of Bois de Mormal 
 toward Mauberge, and against Ghent, had forced the enemy into a 
 disorderly retreat, beyond recovery, Thursday, November 7th, 
 the German negotiation delegates left Berlin, and at 1 1 A. M., No- 
 vember nth, 1918, the church chimes acknowledged that hostilities 
 had been suspended, at a time when we were ready and capable of 
 starting a new and decisive drive which would have meant absolute 
 disaster to the German armies, whose defensive powers had already 
 been definitely destroyed. 
 
 November i8th our detail from the 2nd American Corps, who 
 joined us while we resided at Corbie, was recalled. 
 
 a6 
 
November 23rd the Division started its southward move to the 
 le Mans area, our men detailed with the different trains, and the 
 entire outfit therefore first assembled in Montfort by December 8th. 
 And, as we now leave the English sector, let us frankly admit that 
 nothing better could have happened to the Division than being sent 
 up to toil with the "Tommies." 
 
 What the exact reasons were for our engagement and ap- 
 pearance on that front we still don't know. Maybe necessity, or 
 because we were meant to play the part of a sacrifice animal, or it 
 was one of the many military experiments. But be this as it may, 
 it turned out to be extraordinarily fortunate, when we had first re- 
 covered from the immediate shock and surprise and got used to the 
 unexpected surroundings and their way of doing things. 
 
 We worked to start with under the frying handicap of fighting, 
 and having to make good, with veterans of four years of war, war 
 fought against odds as we never will be able to realize, but as our 
 grit, courage and fighting qualities had overcome this barrier, the 
 handicap soon proved to be of extreme advantage, as our comrades 
 in arms provided us with a perfect supply system, an artillery which 
 had been brought down to the very limits of science and accuracy, 
 at the same time giving us the privilege of benefiting from their 
 wonderful organization and inexhaustible experience. If we made 
 our "entree" burdened with certain settled ideas, even prejudice, 
 against the English, their characteristics, system or methods, we 
 most certainly left them filled with admiration, their ability to adapt 
 themselves to almost German foresight, thoroughness and "sys- 
 tem" was a revelation. 
 
 The towns in our new community were smaller than ever, so 
 that not less than 32 villages were required this time to house the 
 entire division, namely: Montfort, Pont de Gennes, le Breil, Bou- 
 loire, Surfonds, Ardenay, Soulitre, Thorigne, Nuille, DoUon, St. 
 Michel, St. Corneille, Connerre, Duneau, Tuffe, St. Hilaire, St. 
 Celerin, la Chapelle, Yvre I'Eveque, Savigny, Champagne, Fatines, 
 Lombron, Condrecieux, Gaslande, Volney, Parence, Courseboeuf, 
 Chanteloup, Sille le Philip, Sarge, le Luart. Four more — Laval, 
 Montsurs, Louverne and Argentre — ^were added to the long list a 
 few days later, when our Artillery, the 52nd F. A. Brigade (who 
 had been attached to the 33rd Division in the American sector) ar- 
 rived. 
 
 January 2nd, 19 19, the 4th Company of the newly formed 
 Area Military Police made their appearance and relieved us, from 
 then on taking over, and acting as permanent corps police for the 
 sector. About a week later we turned in horses and transports. 
 We were ready to go ! 
 
 But — and this is the reason why we hate the very name of the 
 le Mans area — we didn't ! 
 
 We stayed, and stayed, and stayed. One day, two days and 
 
 67 
 
more — many more — days. We were poisoned with rumors, red 
 tape and disappointments. It was, without comparison, the crucial 
 test of the entire war. Only men of the 27th Division will know 
 what amount of disappointment, despair and rage is connected with 
 dates as December 15th, January ist, January loth, January 21st, 
 February i ith and February i6th. Only men of the 27th Division 
 understand what the news meant: We have drawn 10 more days' 
 rations ! 
 
 The rumors flourished, appeared and disappeared in such 
 quality and quantity that we silently promised never — never — again 
 to smile or criticize female gossip-collecting. That we lived through 
 it is more than a miracle, we hardly slept, barely ate — and the wine 
 wasn't worth drinking. 
 
 "Flu" had already for some time harassed our camp. Re- 
 gan, Burns and Keith left for the hospitals, and finally had to bow 
 to the same grim death they so gallantly and fearlessly faced and 
 fought on the battlefields. Spang and Davidson, two of our old 
 comrades in arms, had already previously paid the same sacrifice. 
 But — isn't death worth while, when you die as a man, fighting for 
 fight and ideals ? 
 
 January 22nd, General Pershing, Commander-in-Chief of the 
 A. E. F., arrived, his private train staying oVer at Connerre, such 
 necessitating a detail there as Guard of Honor. About 50 men 
 left for the "Belgian Camp," where the Division review was held 
 the next day, the various decorations at the same time being offi-' 
 cially awarded to the distinguished heroes. 
 
 January 29th our Company records were inspected by the Em- 
 barkation Officers, nourishing new hopes as to an early return. 
 When moving orders really did arrive, February 4th, to leave Feb- 
 ruary nth, the Division became delirious — ^to be on the verge of a 
 wholesale suicide craze before night, as the Message Center, at 4 
 P. M., sent out a new bulletin cancelling the morning order. 
 
 February 7th a cold spell breezed in, resulting in nights spent 
 ijnder cover of every available bit of clothing, including shoes, 
 gloves, overcoat and hat. Not only, however, because it was cold, 
 but because the "getting home" fever was so predominating that 
 nobody dared take the slightest chance of being left behind when 
 the order came. It was the most, illustrating example we ever saw, 
 or expect to see, of "watchful waiting" and "preparedness." 
 
 Our physical and property inspections progressed favorably. 
 The last cootie had been caught, skinned and stuffed for the Divi- 
 sion Museum. Our equipment and property brought up — or down 
 — to the required proportions. Our final ordnance inspection, un- 
 expectedly, throwing new light on the reasons for the speedy con- 
 elusion of the world's war, and our acceptance of the armistice — the 
 United States was short of shoe laces! Each O. D. soldier, ac- 
 cordingly, had to bring back to the only country two pairs of these 
 
 68 
 
m 
 
valuable life necessities, to relieve the suffering and shortcoming 
 back home. We are happy to say that we, on our subway and car 
 rides, already have seen that this serious economic shortage has 
 been remedied, even if we think that some girls wear shorter dresses 
 than absolutely necessary, for the purpose of convincing the home- 
 coming boys of their appreciation, and prove the presence of the 
 coveted laces. 
 
 February 20th — at last — our patient souls got their deserved 
 reward — the moving order arrived! February 24th we left over 
 Connerre for Brest. It was a wonderful day, which, despite oc- 
 casional showers, forever will stand out in our recollection as a 
 vision of sunshine and smiles. First, because we were finally on our 
 way home; secondly, by the alluring prospect of one and one-half 
 pound beefsteaks on the train. But for once — or rather, as usual — 
 the "Stars and Stripes" had made a mistake, the journalist, by some 
 odd accident and carelessness, getting a line about the Paris-Bag- 
 dad sleeper into our modest and democratic news column. How- 
 ever, we had gone without food so often before, we were on our 
 way home, and as we still had to go through Brest — a camp of ex- 
 ceptional reputation- — we didn't talk much about it, even if — this 
 was confirmed by some of our men who talked in their sleep — it 
 made a certain impression. 
 
 February 25th, about 3 130, the harbor of Brest displayed its 
 cradle of dreams for our wondering eyes. We detrained, had sup- 
 per in an American "quick lunch" mess, and marched out to camp — 
 the camp with the exceptional reputation. That we arrived In a 
 drizzling rain is hardly worth commenting on, as a day without rain 
 at Brest is a distinct failure. That camp and roads — at least what 
 we saw of it — ^was a mire of mud, with duckboards to prevent cas- 
 ualties, and tents far below the required sanitary standard, is like- 
 wise non-essential, as rumors to that effect had reached us while we 
 were still fighting In Flanders. But It did look like a rather un- 
 healthy joke to advertise the Brest camp as a "cleaning-up resort," 
 we most certainly didn't improve our hygienic or health standard 
 while there. Five days we spent In this place, usually busily en- 
 gaged at some important and necessary fatigue detail or other. In 
 the morning f. i. we would bring 200 boards from point A to point 
 B, and in the afternoon from point B back to point A. It speaks 
 loud about the morale and high quality of our men, when we sur- 
 vived it without a "breakdown," and even had "excellent" on our 
 working papers. 
 
 March 3rd we moved over to barracks — a change which didn't 
 look promising to us right then. Two hours after, while at mess 
 (burned "goldfish"), a new message almost stunned us: the Com- 
 pany had to be at the pier in about an hour ! 
 
 It was the best and speediest move we ever executed. Happy, 
 and silent as ghosts, we jumped into the lorries, and left for the 
 
 70 
 
harbor, where we were met by the officers. Roll call! Another 
 silent procession to the lighter, and we were off — on our way back 
 liome ! C. 8 :30 P. M., we boarded the liner, SS. Mt. Vernon. 
 Less than half an hour after the big ship hoisted anchor and set 
 out for home. It was all so sudden, so wonderful, it didn't seem 
 real at all. 
 
 Crowded on the decks we motionless watched the lights and 
 the dark silhouette of shore disappearing in the night. Listened to 
 the propellers, each swift turn bringing us another yard or two 
 nearer "there." One hat after another was removed, to give the 
 salt breeze free play around feverishly hot foreheads. Hardly a 
 word was said, as if afraid it should awaken us from a dream— a 
 dream we loved to dream. It was the night of nights, the night 
 where tears could be detected in eyes who had faced death and de- 
 struction without the slightest fear, it was the night, worth every bit 
 
 IN MEMORIAL 
 
 DUNLOP, ROBERT E. 
 CALLAHAN, LESLIE D. 
 SPANG, ELWOOD P. 
 REGAN, THOMAS W. 
 BURNES, HARRY S. 
 KEITH, ELISHA'B. 
 DAVIDSON. EDWARD C. 
 
 of suffering, hardship and danger, only — it didn't seem real, it was 
 almost too wonderful to be true. 
 
 March nth we again set foot on American soil, and after a 
 good long look at "the old girl" and the treasure she is guarding 
 so carefully — New York City — left for Camp Mills, where we re- 
 mained until Parade Day, March 25th, where the town and nation 
 gave us a welcome which, as a sergeant of the io8th Infantry and 
 a Major who once gave us a hand-to-hand talk in France both said — 
 almost ( !) — repaid us for whatever we might have gone through, 
 and March 26th we were sent to Camp Upton, to await our "exe- 
 cution." 
 
 April 1st, after being fooled and delayed several times on ac- 
 count of trivial red-tape mistakes, we — at last — acquired the most 
 sacred and treasured paper in a soldier's life, hopes and dreams — 
 our discharge! We were, once more, free men, peaceful citizens, 
 ready to enter a new strenuous — if less bloody — engagement : the 
 battle for an existence. 
 
 7\ 
 
FINIS 
 
 Do you remember when we talked together — ^you and I — 
 after the war? While in some French, little town, counting sec- 
 onds, minutes and hours, until the boat finally came and brought us 
 back home. Do you remember how we talked and talked — ^you 
 and I — and almost considered a year lost? 
 
 But — do you remember something else ? 
 
 Do you remember how we felt — you and I — when we came 
 back, and stepped off that same boat? 
 
 We felt good that day, happy, proud and at ease, didn't we ? 
 We had a good conscience ! 
 
 Happiness in this life does not come from wealth, material 
 success or position. Not the real happiness, at least. 
 
 Only a clear conscience makes a man feel at ease. Only a 
 clear conscience makes life worth while. And — would we have 
 felt that way if we hadn't — ^wasted — that year ? 
 
 Most certainly no ! 
 
 Now we felt happy, proud and at ease. Felt that we had done 
 our duty, responded willingly, without hesitation, when the call 
 came, proved that we were men, true sons of a great nation. No, 
 we did not waste that year, you and I ! 
 
 72 
 
HEADQUARTERS 27th DIVISION, U. S. A. 
 American E. F., France. 
 From : Commanding General, October 22, 1918. 
 
 To : Commanding Officer, 102nd Military Police. 
 
 Subject : Commendation. 
 
 1. Since the great battle for the breaking of the Hindenburg Line, September 
 2Sth-30th, the division after a few days of rest has been engaged in almost contin- 
 uous marching and fighting. The rapidity with which operations have succeeded 
 each other and the many new features and problems presented with each successive 
 Police. Their work has been ceaseless and their efficiency marked. Everywhere 
 advance have furnished many difficulties to be met and overcome by the Military 
 they have shown resourcefulness and their handling of the many prisoners taken 
 has been most satisfactory. 
 
 2. It is a pleasure to make record of this efficient accomplishment and to com- 
 mend the officers and men of the 102nd Military Police. 
 
 JOHN F. O'RYAN, 
 Major General. 
 
 HEADQUARTERS 2nd CORPS, A. E. F. 
 Office of the Provost Marshal. 
 Capt. J. W. Ceballos, January 5, 1919. 
 
 Provost Marshal, 27th Div., 
 My dear Capt. Ceballos : 
 
 As the time is rapidly approaching when the Military Police of the 27th Divi- 
 sion are about to sail for home, I would like to add a word to the many commen- 
 dations you have received for your work in France. 
 
 In all the recent operations on the British Front in which we have been to- 
 gether, your men have been under my close personal observation and many of them 
 have been detailed to work with these Headquarters. 
 
 They have been brave, efficient and trustworthy throughout, extremely soldierly 
 in bearing, good horsemen and thoroughly reliable. From my observation of some 
 eleven divisions I can truthfully say that none have excelled them. 
 
 I wish you all a safe return and all kinds of good luck and prosperity in the 
 future. Sincerely yours, 
 
 H. A. C. DE RUBIO, 
 Major, P. M. II Corps. 
 
 HEADQUARTERS 27th DIVISION, U. S. A., 
 American E. F., France. 
 
 January 25, 1919. 
 Capt. Juan W. Ceballos, 
 
 Commanding 102nd Military Police, 
 27th Division, U. S. A., 
 
 American E. F., France. 
 My dear Captain Ceballos : 
 
 Now that the Division is about to leave France for the United States, I take 
 this opportunity of expressing to you my appreciation of the excellence of the 
 Military Police work of your command throughout the entire period of the service 
 of the Division both in the United States and in France. At all times your com- 
 mand has constituted a model of military precision and courtesy. Its standards in 
 relation to these qualities have been met in other respects, for in battle you and 
 your officers and men aggressively and intelligently, and with the greatest courage, 
 performed your battle functions. You have had a personnel of the very highest 
 class with which to work, but even such a personnel, to be effective under the try- 
 ing conditions of war, must possess disciplined and skilled leadership, and these 
 were not lacking. 
 
 Commendation of the Military Police of this Division would not be complete 
 without some reference to the integrity of its personnel. Never has this been im- 
 peached. The Divisional Military Police by their standards of honor, impartial and 
 courageous enforcement of battle orders and routine regulations, have won the 
 respect and admiration of the entire Division. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 (Signed) JOHN F. O'RYAN, 
 CCOPY) Major General. 
 
 73 
 
LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 
 
 Ceballos, Juan W., Bay Shore, L. I. 
 
 Baldwin, Oran Stiles, care Davidson & Co., Keap Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Abbey, Martin, 111 East 26th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Ackermann, Francis A., 1112 Oak Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Adrian, Anthony L., N. Y. A. C, 59th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Ahearn, William J., 296 East Broadway, N. Y. C. 
 
 Albert, Rudolph, 441 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Allen, Edward R., 1265 Pacific Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Arnold, Charles C., 134 Richmond Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Ayers, Charles C, Mystic, Conn. 
 
 Arata, George F., 2306 Ave. Q, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Barry, Joseph R., 44 Highland Avenue, Jersey City, N. J. 
 
 Bauer, Irving H., 129 Stiles Street, Elizabeth, N. J. 
 
 Baum, Robert, 1800 7th Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Bell, August E., 409 W. Newell Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Benedict, Arthur H., 823 West End Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Bender, Clarence I., Carlisle, Pa., R. F. D. No. 4. 
 
 Bertan, Cornelius G., 376 Marcy Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Bidinger, Charles F., 104 East Colvin Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Bidwell, George R., 207 West 107th Street, N. Y. G. 
 
 Birdsall, Franklin T., 43 Exchange Place, N. Y. C, care E. H. Rollins & Sons. 
 
 Bishop, Morgan E., 254 West 127th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Black, Joseph A., 103 West 103rd Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Blackmar, William H., 666 Oakland Place, N. Y. C. 
 
 Bohmann, Henry, Jr., 449 East 164th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Bolton, Ralph S., 261 Stuyvesant Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Boshen, Christopher, 158 East 82nd Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Boyle, Joseph F., 638 Hart Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Bradley, William B. C, 761 Ocean Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Bradley, William B., Short Hills, N. J. 
 
 Bridge, William A., Sherwood Place, Greenwich, Conn. 
 
 Brown, Colin C, 9 Jefferson Street, Auburn, N. Y. 
 
 Browne, Arthur L., 827 Madison Avenue, New Durham, N. J. 
 
 Brownhill, George, 189 Conover Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Buckley, John T., 148 East 97th Street, N. Y. C, care Walsh. 
 
 Bunker, Myron S., 52 North 8th Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 
 
 Burke, Robert L., 820 Manhattan Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Calnan, Arthur J., Yale Club, 44 Vanderbilt Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Campbell, Charles L., 736 W. 181st Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Canlon, Frank J., 106 Elizabeth Street, West Brighton, S. I. 
 
 Cantwell, Thomas J., 431 West 3Sth Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Carle, Wilfred C, Harrison, Westchester County, N. Y. 
 
 Carlson, E. J., 3406 Corlear Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Castellanos, A. V., 1664 Nelson Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C, care A. Pryor. 
 
 Chamberlain, Robert L., Greenwich, Conn., care Putnam Trust Co. 
 
 Chase, Marvin K., 305 Talman Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Cheever, Percy K., 27 West 129th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Clapp, Henry S., 455 East 28th Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Clarke,- R. A., 1 Montgomery Place, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Colburn, Alfred V., 122 Meadow Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Colburn, Sidney, 122 Meadow Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Colfax, Noble L., 176 Broad Street, Bloonjfield, N. J. 
 
 Connell, Richard E., 27 West 44th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Corker, Thomas, 107 Ten Eyck Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Creighton, George W., Riverhead, L. I. 
 
 Cruthers, Harry C, Moravia, Cayuga County, N. Y, 
 
 75 
 
Cumiskey, James F., 1 Pat4c Avenue, Stamford, Conn. 
 Currier, Arthur B., 427 Lexington Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 Curtis, Chester W., 924 Vanderveer Avenue, Woodhaven, L. I. 
 Cushion, Charles, 2()4^Ehii Street, Newark, N. J. 
 
 Daggens, William J., 120 East 89th Street, N. Y, C. 
 Dahl, Corbin, 407S Beaufort Avenue, Woodhaven, L. I. 
 Davenport, John, 1346 Prospect Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 
 Denny, Melvin A., 103 Warner Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 Doherty, Lionel M., Colonial Inn, Rye, N. Y. 
 Donahoe, Harold M., 61 Duane Street, Malone, N. Y. 
 Donelly, Cornelius, 153 East 15th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Donohue, James J., 345 East 39th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Donohue, James N., 302 West 79th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Donovan, James J., 20 West 18th Street, Bayonne, N. J. 
 Dowling, Joseph, 209 East 58th Street, N. Y. C, care Kennedy. 
 Dunn, William F., Tucker Street, Lenox, Mass. 
 Dunne, James Warren, 66 South 17th Street, Flushing, L. L 
 
 Feehan, Paul, 542 West 160th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Feehan, Richard P., 542 West 160th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Ferris, James C, 86 Lefferts Place, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Ferry, Anthony M.,77 West 68th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Finney, Charles H., 301 West 36th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Fish, Thomas W., Jr., Lake Ronkonkoma, L. I. 
 Fitzpatrick, 'Martin, 335 West 43rd Street, N. Y. C. 
 Flynn, James T., ChiircH Street, Lenox, Mass., Box 109. 
 Franz, Charles, Jr., 607 East 12th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Gadlewski, John, 445 Willoughby Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. C. 
 
 George, Ralph, Mahopac Falls, N. Y. 
 
 Gilligan, James F., 656 Cooper Street, Watertown, N. Y. 
 
 Green, Berth E., 170 Vale Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Greene, George D., 2092 Washington Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Greene, George, 412 Woolf Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Hanna, Donald, 622-A 3rd Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Hayward, Robert B., 214 South Sth Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 
 Heaney, James J., 391 Douglas Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Heffran, Eugene A., 518 Columbus Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 Heil, George C, 264 Ovington Avenue, Bayridge, N. Y. 
 Hendershot,. Carl A., 65 Melrose Street, Rochester, N. Y. 
 Howe, Cyrus L., 10 Ridgeview Avenue, White Plains, N. Y. 
 Hoffmann, Lawrence S., 904 Leggett Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 
 
 Irvine, Gordon F., 454 West 146th Street, N. Y. C, care E. Anson. 
 
 Johnson, Baldwin A., 227 55th Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Johnson, Samuel E., 19 Lawrence Street, Greenwich, Conn. 
 
 Kelber, Louis J., 598 St. Ann's Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. C. 
 
 Kelly, John, 142 West 101st Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Kimmerer, George F., 61 Gordon Street, Stapleton, S. I. 
 
 Kniffen, Charles P., Katonah,,N. Y. 
 
 Kupferberg, Ed., care Metropolitan Life Ins., Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Kyle, John, 2562 Sth Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Lambright, Harold T.,- 96 Warwick Avenue, Rochester, N. Y. 
 La Mothe, Lester A., 534 Monroe Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Laney, Leach Harold, 48 Danforth Avenue, Jersey City, N. J. 
 Langdon, William J., Phoenix, N. Y., R. F.,.D, No. 1. 
 Lawson, George B., S06 Dean Street, Broolclyn, N. Y. 
 Lesko, George J., 648 Leonard Street, Brooklyn, N, Y.- 
 
 7f, 
 
Lessing, Frank, 133 Java -Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Lloyd, Roy R, N. V. A. Qub, N. Y. C. 
 
 Lodarinsky, John, 427 Walnut Street, Yotikers, N. Y. 
 
 Logan, Kenneth B., 187 Marlborough ■ Road, Brooklyn, N. Y. , 
 
 Lynch, Joseph A., 208 East S2nd Street, N. Y. C, care Storage Co. 
 
 McCarthy, Cal. J., 1306 East 3Sth^ Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 McGauIey, Thomas', 226 Wyckoff Street, Brooklyny N. Y. 
 
 Mcllroy, Herbert W; M., 583 Madison Street, Brooklyn, N. Y: 
 
 McManus, John F., 1 Park Avenue, Stamford, Conn. 
 
 McMurray, Nelson, 535 Rilley Street, Buffalo, N. Y. 
 
 Macco, Fred G., 414 Wadsworth Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 MacPherson, Clark C, 40 Cedar Street, Oneonta, N. Y: 
 
 Mahoney, Martin, 17 Skinner Street, Little Falls, N. Y. 
 
 Mauk, Samuel H., 54 Elm Street, Erwin, Tenn. 
 
 Mayer, Ferdinand, 601 West- 110th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Mead, Sylvester W., Round 'Hill Road, Greenwich, Conn. 
 
 Meers, James F., 2560 Broadway, N. Y. C, care Drug Store (cor. 96th St.) 
 
 Mentrup, Carl, 92 Prospect Park West, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Mueller, Dixon M., 2 East 46th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Mills, George A., 39 W. 67th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Mohan, Arthur J., 676 Dawson Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 MoUoy, Arthur N., Broad Channel, N. Y. 
 
 Mooney, Edward J., 1955 3rd Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Moore, Philip H., Bruce Park, Greenwich, Conn. 
 
 Morse, Donald E., 135 Cameron Street, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Mosbaugher, Harold F., 107 Fillmore Street, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Murphy, Joseph D., 39 Sargent Street, North Andover, Mass. 
 
 Nee, Martin H., Greenwich Avenue, Greenwich, Conn. 
 Nelson, Theodore S., 329 South Broadway, Yonkers, N. Y. 
 NicoU, Robert W., 12 Lawrence Street, Greenwich, Conn. 
 O'Hara, John F., 788 Putnam Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Olton, Henry R., 234 Bradhurst, N. Y. 
 Osborne, Frederick, 8 East 10th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Panter, Samuel W., Sea Bright, N; J. 
 
 Perry, Frank D., 419 South 4th Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 
 
 Perry, George B., 419 South 4th Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 
 
 Peters, Henry F., 386 Marion Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Phillips, Byron S., 115 West Cliflf Street, Summerville, N; J. 
 
 Poletti, Louis A., 318 Demott St., West Hoboken,, N. ]., care Columbian Club. 
 
 Polsky, Abraham, 137 Barrett Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. ' .■' ' 
 
 Pratt, Henry E., 120 Gere Ave., Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Praver, Abe, 771 Trinity Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. " . 
 
 Purcell, William L., 1279 3rd Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Reilly, Edward V., 2320 Cambrelling Avenue, Bronx, N. Y. 
 
 Reilly, William J., 782 East 169th Street, Bronx, N. Y. 
 
 Reichenbach, Philip L., Jr., 2805 8th Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Rextrew, Harvey C, 294 Morton Avenue, Albany, N. Y. 
 
 Rice, Fred W., Tyson Place, East Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Roffe, George A., Leicester, N. Y. 
 
 Rousseau, Louis D., Seaford, Long Island, N. Y. 
 
 Rylander, Elmer A., 26 Hubbard Place, Flatbush, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Scholtz, Herbert W.. 30 Linden Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Schuyler, Stewart. 133 West Kennedy Avenue, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 Schwensen, Kai, 445 Willoughby Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Sentner, David P., 601 West 112th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Shanley, John J., 73 Cranberry Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Sheehy, George F., 402 Monroe Street, Hoboken, N. J. 
 Shotwell, Samuel T., 640 Prospect Place, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Skiff, Thomas J., Mt. Kisco, care Mrs. Abbey Schmetter. 
 
 77 
 
Slattery, John F., 162 East End Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Sloudy, James F., Croton-on-Hudson, N. Y. 
 
 Smith, Hugh M., 47 West SOth Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Smith, Stanley B., Mt. Kisco, N. Y. (Box 245) 
 
 Soman, Lester, 680 St. Nicholas Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Spreckelmeyer, Frank H., 1918 18th Street N. W., Washington, D. C. 
 
 Steele, Thomas L., 66 Scribner Avenue, Staten Island, N. Y. 
 
 Stevens, Clarence L., 46 Abendroth Place, Portchester, N. Y. 
 
 Stewart, Clyde J., 190 Weldon Street, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Summers, Timothy D., 1248 Pacific Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Thomas, C. W., 52 Arch Street, Greenwich, Conn. 
 Tileston, Arthur C, 100 Dakota Street, Dorchester, Mass. 
 Tillotson, Harold I., 7 Webb Avenue, Ocean Grove, N. Y. 
 Torgersen, Trygver, 437 Essex Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Tracy, John J., Millbrook, Dutchess County, N. Y. 
 Trostel, Fred C, 162 East End Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Uhlmann, Maurice W., 36 West 89th Street, N. Y. C. 
 
 Van Hoesen, Fred, 767 2nd Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 Van Wyck, Samuel B., 107 Joraleman Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 Vanderlyn, Jay D., 601 West 118th Street, N. Y. C. 
 Vincent, Paul W., 420 Riverside Drive, N. Y. C, Apt. 7-B. 
 
 Wagner, Edw. H., 599 Bushwick Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Waller, Thomas, 445 Willoughby Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Walsh, John T., 1389 Putnam Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Wehringer, Harry R., IS Wadsworth Avenue, N. Y. C. 
 
 Weiler, Charles, 505 9th Avenue, Long Island City, N. Y. 
 
 Wheeler, Welton E., 213 James Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 Weston, John, 1550 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 White, Ray N., Waddington, N. Y. 
 
 Williams, John F., 3 Ridgeview Avenue, White Plains, N. Y. 
 
 Williams, John M., 600 West 174th Street, TST. Y. C. 
 
 Williamson, James A., 220 Adelphi Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Wilson, Warren M., 525 Fourth Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 Woitke, Fred W., Stamford, Conn. 
 
 Wright, Lawrence L., 1615 Hillsdale Avenue, Dormont, Pa., Allegheny Co. 
 
 Yore, Thomas, 782 East 169th Street, Bronx, N. Y. 
 
 Zehnder, Gustave, 419 South Fourth Avenue, Mt. Vernon, N. Y. 
 
 Zube, Ernest, 225 Cleveland Street, Syracuse, N. Y. 
 
 78