Benney was, we believe, the dirtiest village we have been in to date, so consequently the next day we had to clean up the manure piles and refuse left by the populace of this village. The village had, at one time, been occupied by the Hun armies, who left their customary destructive earmarks upon it. Those who remain consist mainly of women, children and men too old for work. It can therefore be easily understood why its streets were dirty and conditions in general were neglected.

We spent four days in the village, our duties being to clean up the streets. We had become quite proficient with shovels and push-brooms, by reason of previous experience, and strangely enough the men usually chose this duty in preference to the daily duties of kitchen police and guard. Most of us were badly in need of a bath, as all soldiers generally are, and upon investigating discovered an old swimming hole which we soon Americanized by taking a plunge every day during our short stay there. We were entertained two evenings by the French movies while here.

It was evident to us that a large troop movement was taking place, and from the many precautions taken to avoid observation, it appeared that the movement was of more than usual importance. Troops were marched only at night and no lights of any kind were permitted, even smoking being barred outside of cover. Kitchens were covered and mess lines were being divided into sections so that Boche planes could see but a few men at a time. We were told that we must get under cover and stay there whenever hostile planes were about. No drilling was done and every effort made to keep every evidence of the presence of troops hidden from observation.

All this could mean but one thing--a big attack was being prepared and we would undoubtedly be in it. We were curious to know just when and where it would be, but we had to be content with guessing, for the secret of the St. Mihiel drive was well kept.

Leaving Benney, we hiked a distance of 13 kilos to a little village called Haussonville, arriving there at 3:30 A. M. We had a very sloppy march and pa.s.sed our kitchen truck, stuck in the ditch by the roadside.

Of all trucks, this should have been the one to pull through, judging by the yearning in the region of our stomachs. Immediately upon our arrival in Haussonville we were billeted in a large barn and "hit the hay" for a few hours. We were soon awakened by the glad news that our kitchen had arrived, was in action and that we would have breakfast at 10. The name Haussonville stands out prominently in the minds of the boys, for we recall, with a shudder, that this is where we caught our first real batch of cooties.

Dinner was served at 3, and after this meal we again rolled pack and had hopes of leaving this unwelcome company at 8 P. M., but did not until three hours later. At last under way, we hiked 14 kilos with full packs and reached our next destination, a salt factory a few kilos from Nancy.

Though much fatigued by our night journey, we were somewhat encouraged to find a soft pine floor upon which to rest our weary bones, and with the aid of a few salt sacks, which we found, soon made ourselves as comfortable as possible under the existing conditions. After the customary late breakfast and dinner, orders were received to resume the hike as soon as it became dark.

Darkness found us again trailing the rock roads amid a steady downpour of rain. The night grew darker and darker, until it was impossible for the men in ranks to see each other. This however, was nothing unusual and all went well until we suddenly found ourselves lost in the streets of Nancy. It was a fine night for ducks, which might have enjoyed the next three hours, but as soldiers it was far from pleasant wandering around the town aimlessly, first up one street and then down another, with a soggy pack upon our backs. At last, righting ourselves, we left the city just as it was getting dawn, and continued our course.

Seemingly endless lines of artillery regiments on their way to form the reserve for the St. Mihiel drive, pa.s.sed us along the road with their caissons and guns of all sizes. Later an impressive sight greeted us as we marched along. Dawn was breaking in the east, but the northern horizon was lighted by flares from the muzzles of hundreds of Allied guns, the intermittent flashings of which indicated to us that the great drive was in progress. Tired, hungry and foot sore, we pitched tents a little later in the woods safely concealed from enemy observation.

Thus ended the long-drawn-out hike. We knew now why we had been marched every night and subjected to seemingly unnecessary hardships. Not a man regretted the experience, and all proud that they helped form a cog in the mighty machine which straightened the St. Mihiel salient, and marked the first American triumph over the Hun.

FROM FIVE TRENCHES TO SENARD

While at Five Trenches, we were in constant readiness to move, and on Sept. 18th, orders were received to embuss at three o'clock P. M. Where we were going we did not know, but we prepared for a ride, which, we were told would be a long one. A short march brought us to a large number of French trucks which we boarded, filling each to its utmost capacity.

The trip was through a country of rolling hills, dotted with the picturesque French villages with their stone houses and red tile roofs.

Late in the afternoon the Moselle was crossed and we pa.s.sed through the outskirts of the ancient city of Toul. Our journey continued throughout the night and after pa.s.sing through Bar-le-Duc, and Triacourt, we arrived at our destination, the small village of Senard, about six o'clock the following morning. The truck containing our kitchen had been sent on ahead to prepare breakfast for us when we got there, but with the usual fortune of the kitchen buss, it had been mis-instructed and so it was afternoon before it arrived to fill the stomachs of the very hungry soldiers.

Our billet was a large barn, over a hundred years old, in which the whole company was housed. Its bunks with straw mattresses were a welcome change after sleeping on the ground in the forest. It had at one time been quarters for German soldiers, for in 1914 when the army of the Kaiser poured into France, Senard had been occupied for about nine days.

Although the city shows plainly the scars of battle, it was fortunate compared to some of the neighboring villages, many of which were complete ruins.

The stay here was a short one. We left on the night of Sept. 18th and marched for several hours along roads already crowded with artillery and supply trains moving toward the front, and shortly after dark pitched pup tents at Camp Wagon, in the heart of the Argonne Forest. The few days spent here pa.s.sed uneventfully; even pay day failing to cause its usual enthusiasm, for what good was money in the heart of a forest? An occasional barrage sounding nearby kept us on the alert, for we imagined each one to be the prelude to the big drive we knew we were soon to engage in.

Finally, definite information came and it left us rather dazed, causing many of us to write home letters that we thought might possibly be the last ones. We learned that the greatest offensive of the war was about to take place, extending from the North Sea to the Moselle river. Also, and what was more to the point, that on that part of the front to be taken by the American Army the position a.s.signed to the 35th Division to reduce was expected to be the most difficult to take. Our division had the honor positions on the whole front.

MEUSE-ARGONNE OFFENSIVE

Our part in the offensive began the night of the 25th of September.

Orders were received to move up to Bourelles as soon as it should become dark. Camp was struck and supplies were stacked along side the road before dark so that we would be able to find them when the time came.

A vast sense of relief settled down over every one as we realized that the time which we had enlisted for, trained for, worked and waited for was finally at hand, and that by morning we would be doing our work over in the Boche trenches instead of on our own side of the line.

As soon as it was dark we got our stuff packed into the trucks and packed ourselves in on top, mud and all, and started for Germany. The roads were muddy and slippery and often the convoy was held up until a truck could be pulled out of the ditch. No lights were allowed--the roads were under sh.e.l.l fire and no chances were taken in showing troop movements to the ever vigilant enemy aeroplanes. Several times we were led astray, but finally, about midnight we arrived at Bourelles.

Here we unloaded the trucks behind the protection of a steep bank and the men settled down on the rocks and gra.s.s for a few hours' rest, while the cooks borrowed a fire and began to prepare soup for breakfast. We did not secure much sleep. Jerry was sending over a few in search of some of our "heavies," but it was these same heavy guns that most disturbed our rest. The crack of these guns whipped across the valley with such a force that the hills fairly shook. They were not firing very fast but what they lacked in speed they made up in noise.

At 2:30 A. M. our fire opened up in earnest and the thought of being on the receiving end of that terrific rain of steel was almost enough to cause a little pity for the Germans--almost. With the coming of dawn the artillery seemed to slacken and at 6:05 the doughboys went over the top.

Little could be seen through the haze and smoke by those who waited. We could see the groups of airplanes go sailing overhead and the elephant-shaped observation balloons move snail-like in a race to the enemy lines. While the big guns were methodically sending over their "messages of hate," here and there could be seen groups of horses nibbling unconcernedly at the trampled gra.s.s, while their drivers were wrapped up in shelter halves catching a well earned rest.

After a reconnaissance had been made, we received the order from our Director of Ambulances, Maj. Wm. Gist, to advance. We piled into the trucks again and started forward. The effects of Jerry's fire could now be seen. The large sh.e.l.l holes, the demolished trees, the shattered buildings, were beginning to make us realize that we were fighting some force that had the power to fight back. We pa.s.sed through several ruined villages and finally reached Neuvilly, which was the end of the road for motors at that time. Here we unloaded and were heavily equipped with litters, packs, medicine belts and extra sh.e.l.l wound dressings.

The plan of operations was quite simple. The company was divided into sections, each under an officer, and each section further divided into litter squads of four men each. The non-coms were charged with locating wounded and directing litter squads to them, and also with doing most of the dressing. The wounded were to be gathered into groups located so that ambulances could reach and evacuate them to the triage which was established later in the day at Neuvilly, by Ambulance Company 138. The entire company, less cooks, took to the field and the cooks, by trading grub for transportation, managed to keep in touch with part of us part of the time.

Lieut. Bates with his section covered the rear of the 137th Infantry which was on the left. Lieut. Siberts with a detachment, bore to the right, covering the 138th Infantry, while Lieut. Monteith, with his detachment undertook to handle some wounded who were already coming into the old position of the 138th Infantry. Lt. Speck with Sgt. Rowland and a few men remained at Vacquois Hill and established a collecting station for wounded there.

As the men marched thru the lines the evidences of the superhuman struggle grew more and more. They could see dead horses, shattered wagons and caissons, trampled and torn up wire entanglements, and ambulances darting here and there. Groups of artillery were constantly shifting about, advancing all the time.

In places we pa.s.sed the long naval guns, some of them so hot that they seemed to be fairly panting. Every clump of trees concealed a den of seventy-fives or larger guns, and miles of deserted trenches were pa.s.sed through.

The work on hand was enough to keep all the men busy. Many German prisoners were coming through by this time and each group helped by carrying back wounded. Some of the German wounded were brought back in this way by their comrades. By this time, also, a shortage of litters began to be felt. The ambulances had not been able to get up owing to the blocking of the roads by artillery which was moving forward. Towards evening ambulances began to come in to Vacquois, and Hill No. 290. The last load of wounded had been removed by about 4:00 A. M., the next morning. Meanwhile, Lt. Siberts had reached Cheppy, close on the heels of the victorious 138th Infantry and collected a large number of wounded there.

In crossing the German trenches, we saw the effects of our artillery barrage and the evidences of the fierce fighting that the doughboys were doing. The ground was fairly pulverized. There were sh.e.l.l holes large enough to drop houses into, and parts of the hills were seemingly scalped and cast aside. Concrete dugouts were crushed as if they had been made of cardboard, trenches were leveled and barbwire entanglements were cut to pieces. The Germans had contested the ground inch by inch, and we could see where groups of our men had been literally blown to pieces--scenes that the boys will never forget. As we advanced further, the evidences of the struggle were not so ghastly, although we were pa.s.sing the lifeless forms of many Kansas and Missouri boys mixed with those of the drab uniforms of the enemy.

The field was sprinkled with sh.e.l.l holes whose burnt sides seem to have been blasted by the touch of h.e.l.l. Our artillery was crawling forward and were blazing away from behind the shelter of clumps of bushes. The doughboys were now moving so swiftly that the big guns could hardly keep up.

As we neared Cheppy, we could see where the infantry boys had charged an almost impregnable machine gun nest. About thirty men had been mowed down in front of this position. At a cross roads, a big sh.e.l.l had landed in the center of a collection of wounded doughboys, tearing them to pieces. Gas had been used, but nothing could stop the boys from entering Cheppy. The fierce struggle in this town had caused heavy casualties.

Ambulance Co. 138 having moved up the triage to Cheppy on the 28th, Lt.

Siberts started for Charpentry with his detachment. By the morning of the second day, the entire company had reached Cheppy and we had a warm meal, the first one in thirty-six hours. Lt. Siberts and his detachment deserve a great deal of credit for the tremendous amount of work they accomplished at Cheppy in an old abandoned dugout, where hundreds of wounded were cared for under distressing and dangerous conditions.

Mr. Wesley R. Childs of the Y. M. C. A. came up to the station here with chocolates and was of material a.s.sistance in directing a party of walking wounded back to Neuvilly by the road through Verennes, which we had been unable to explore before. During this time the action was in view of the dressing station at times and the sound of the machine guns made it plain that there would be much more work for us. The dressing station at Cheppy was subjected to machine gun fire from hostile airplanes several times but no casualties resulted. Mule drawn ambulances from Ambulance Co. 140 arrived at the Cheppy station in the morning of the 27th. Later, motor ambulances came up and the work of evacuating went steadily on. There was very little rest for anyone.

On the 27th, Lt. Monteith with a detachment went forward to Very, and established another collection point in some German dugouts there. The next morning, evacuation of these wounded was begun by ambulances as the congestion at Cheppy was somewhat relieved. Litter bearer squads worked forward from Very in the direction of Charpentry and many wounded were collected together and cared for pending the arrival of mule drawn ambulances. In the meantime Ambulance Co. 137, and the dressing station section of Ambulance Co. 140, had arrived by trucks at Charpentry. They brought a large supply of dressings and other medical equipment and we were able to replace the contents of our belts. The field from Very to Charpentry was thus cleared, and by noon some of the advance squads had reached Charpentry.

All three companies worked together at Charpentry under the direction of Maj. Gist, and shared rations and supplies in common. The dressing stations at Charpentry were located in old French barns and buildings set around a sort of courtyard. They had served until a couple of days before as the headquarters of the German division holding the sector.

After the place had been examined to make sure that no German souvenirs in the way of hand grenades and sh.e.l.ls had been hidden within, we started fires and soon had some warm places for dressing the wounded. At the south end were some empty buildings evidently used as store rooms and an arched opening into the court. On the east side was a former dwelling house which contained several rooms on the ground floor. All of the second story had been shot away. On the north end was a large barn which contained a small amount of engineering stores. The other side was open and had a garden which contained vegetables for the Germans. This spot was later used to bury some of the men who died in the dressing station. Back from the east side there was a steep hill which contained several excellent dugouts, some of which were used as dressing rooms. As soon as the wounded were dressed they were placed in these empty rooms to await transportation to the rear. These rooms were soon filled, however, and it became necessary to place the men in the court yard on litters or rubber blankets. The wind and rain added nothing to the comfort of these poor chaps, but there was no murmur of complaint from any of them. They were so exhausted from lack of sleep and food and constant fighting, that they were able to sleep undisturbed either by their wounds, or by the thunder of the guns all around.

Two batteries of seventy-fives, of the 129th Field Artillery took position behind our station here, in such a way that their fire pa.s.sed directly over us. At each discharge, a shower of dust from the roofs of the buildings would descend upon the wounded and workers alike. We had some gas this day, but there were more alarms than gas. No sh.e.l.ls fell in our immediate vicinity as the dressing station was more or less protected by the hill. Every one worked at top speed, as the wounded were coming in so fast that it required the services of almost the entire company to take care of them. Later in the afternoon a detachment was sent to Baulney, and with the aid of some mule ambulances, cleared the regimental station there of wounded. Later, motor ambulances began to arrive and the wounded were started back toward the triage at Cheppy.

From this time on the evacuation was continuous, ambulances from Ambulance Co. 41 and S. S. U. sections undertaking this work. Many empty, returning ammunition trucks were also used. The trucks carried the wounded, for the most part, to the old triage at Neuvilly, which had been taken over by the field hospital companies. Those who were able to walk, were started out on foot, as all available transportation was required for rec.u.mbent cases. By morning of the 29th, the influx of wounded having lessened somewhat, two bearer parties went forward, one under Lt. Speck, and the other under Lt. Bates. Mule ambulances accompanied these parties, the detachments coming under heavy fire and some of the mules being killed. One of the drivers was mortally wounded.

These parties were out until about the middle of the afternoon. The work of the bearers was the most laborious owing to the mud and the long distances of the carries.

Information was received that the salient created by the attack was to be protected by establishing the first line in the area being covered by the bearers. The parties were, therefore, withdrawn to Charpentry. It was during this operation that Pvt. Lloyd Richmond was wounded, while remaining with wounded at Chaudron Farm. Upon arrival of the bearers at Charpentry, their patients were loaded into ambulances, which, by this time, had cleared the station there, since the location was becoming a target for gas. Orders were received to move the station back to some more sheltered position where the wounded could be kept in more security. Ambulance companies were now ordered to Varennes. Lt. Siberts, with a detachment of men, proceeded to Very, joining the company at Varennes the next day.

In leaving Charpentry, the men were forced to run a gauntlet of high explosives, gas and shrapnel. A rain of sh.e.l.ls were pouring into the valley in a desperate attempt to silence the American batteries. One of the spectacular scenes of the drive occurred when a battery of French artillery came crashing down the road, the gunners riding the seventy-fives which were drawn by big trucks. The little men in blue were leaning forward and gazing eagerly ahead to the nearby hill where they afterwards whirled their guns into position and poured a murderous fire, point blank, into the counter-attacking Germans. It was a little incident that gave us a slight insight into the reason why the Germans failed to crush France.

On arriving at Varennes, volunteers were called for to return to Charpentry to take care of the wounded who might be expected, and to relieve congestion in regimental stations, which had fallen back to that place. Lt. Bates with 15 men and an equal number from Ambulance Co. 137, were selected. This detachment had a very exciting and strenuous forty-eight hours of work at Charpentry. During the first night wounded were numerous and there was much hard and tiresome work carrying wounded and loading out ambulances.

The 35th Division was now being relieved by the First Division, and we received orders that we had been temporarily attached to that division until their own Ambulance and Field Hospitals could get into action.

After being relieved from this duty, the company a.s.sembled at Neuvilly, and left the next day for a rest.

WITH THE KITCHEN IN THE ARGONNE OFFENSIVE