HISTORY
OF THE SEVENTY SEVENTH DIVISION
Phase4
Along the Vesle
PHASE IV
ALONG THE VESLE
THE time had come to leave the "training
sector." Speculation was rife. Where were they
going), Chateau Thierry.) Siberia.) Italy?-even the
Philippines were included in the roster of possible
destinations. Rumors ran riot. There were two exceptional
specimens of logical deduction rampant
in the rank and file at that time, which, placed one
against the other, brought one to a dead halt, and
obliged one to start anew on one's calculations.
This Division,
" said Buck Private, " is in for a lot of
action. It has political influences behind it. It
contains a host of men prominent in the business,
political and social circles of the nation's greatest
city. They are all anxious to make a name for themselves
and to get themselves tons of glory.
We are going to a
hot sector, you bet!"
"Mais non, this Division," argued Bugler Jones,
"will never see action. It has political influence
behind it. It contains a host of men prominent in the
business, political and social life of the nation's
greatest city. The nation can't afford to lose them. This
Division will never see any action. We're needed at the
Mexican Border. "
By August 1st, the
Division was again in motion. The Infantry hiked to
Charmes, the Artillery to Bayou by easy stages for
entrainment. Doubts of the nature of the railroad journey
were dispelled, by the presence, on flat-cars on each
train, of anti-aircraft machine guns. Chateau Thierry-it
was to be! It began to dawn upon the men in the trains
when they passed Bar-le-Duc, with sand-bags on its
station platform, and with places along the road marked
"Abri--60 Personnes or Cave-50 Personnes and. the
like. They were going west, and northwest, parallel with
the front. The 77th was on the way to real war; it became
more evident when all along the line the train passed
great hangars, elephantine railway guns on sidings, and
French camps of all kinds. Hospital trains, trains with
French soldiers coming and going were passed at frequent
intervals, and a hurried word shouted from one to the
other showed the 77th that these men were battle-bound
too, for some of them were veterans of many fights. The
Division was hurrying along on one of the great arteries
that fed the battlefields.
Detrainment, after
a ride of some forty--eight hours, was by night-and then
followed the approach toward the Vesle. The impression of
much of the country in those parts, to many of the men,
was only blackness-for they hiked always by night.

Valley of the Vesle
THE VESLE
"Lorraine was only a boxing match, but the Vesle,
that was a real fist-fight, " is the epigram made by
an officer of the 77th Division in speaking of the Vesle.
"The Hell-hole Valley of the Vesle, " the
doughboy soon learned. to call it, from experience. At
the Vesle, the 77th Division had its first real tussle
with modern warfare, for it found itself face to face
with the Prussian of the old days, the Boche who then
still harbored his fond dreams of world-dominion. He had
received a severe rebuff at Chateau Thierry, but it was
only his line that bad been broken, not his spirit as
yet. The Vesle he chose as a breath-getting place-and
aided by the natural protection of the broad valley,
through which the river flowed, he was able to gather his
punctured forces, to mass his artillery, hastily to rush
up reinforcements, and to postpone the time of his final
rout for the brief span of a few months.
The Vesle is not
much to look at; a narrow, muddy, snake-like,
sluggish-flowing stream winding through a partly wooded
valley with more or less steeply inclining ridges on both
sides. As a river, it little deserves the name, but as an
obstacle to the passage of our troops, it proved more
valuable to the Germans than a hundred dozen tons of
barbed wire. A military report on the topography of the
valley states:-
"The River
Vesle has an average width of nine meters and an average
depth of two meters and twenty centimeters (about thirty
feet wide and ten feet deep). Opposite our Corps front
the average depth is probably not over one and one-half
meters, with the exception of deep water-holes.
"The widest
part opposite our Division sector is fifty feet near the
main bridge. The banks are practically straight, and in
some places are as high as five feet from the surface of
the water. On the Division front, the general contour of
the ground slopes down from Hill 210 southwest of Mont
Saint Martin. About three kilometers south of the Vesle,
the ground slopes very steeply.
" Opposite the
153d Brigade of Infantry, the Vesle runs through a flat,
open country; and opposite the western half of the 154th
Infantry Brigade, along open, flat country. Numerous
small bridges have been located across the river,
possible for Infantry use. "
The Germans had
established themselves on the north bank of the little
stream, in many places throwing spiked contrivances wound
with barbed wire into the water, making it difficult to
ford or swim. Bazoches and Fismes, both important points
on the railroad, which runs through the valley, following
the river's course, were in the hands of the Germans. The
Americans held as out-posts across the Vesle, the
outskirts of Bazoches and of the Chateau du Diable. Boche
artillery was concentrated in the valley of Perles and
Vauxcere, with the heavy guns north in the draws near
Barbonval. Toward the Aisne was additional artillery.
The front lines of the sector assigned to the 77th
Division extended parallel to the river, from Morit Notre
Dame, St. Thibaut, and through Villesavoye in the
direction of Fismes; with the villages of Mont Saint
Martin and Chery-Chartreuve in the rear. The Artillery
positions were scattered in the area behind Hill 210,
along both sides of the main road leading back to
Fere-en-Tarden-ois, via Chery-Chartreuve and
Mareuil-en-Dole.
TAKING OVER THE SECTOR
The divisions which had participated in the Chateau
Thierry counter-offensive had been re-lieved by the 62d
French Division and by the 4th Division of Americans.
Through the areas just cleared of Germans, the 77th was
being rushed-the infantry in camions via
Fere-en-Tardenois, and the artillery by night marches
through Chateau Thierry. Chateau Thierry, once
magnificent, now mutilated, stood a mute evidence of the
terrible scenes of only a few weeks before. From there
on, the 77th, new to the game, received a pre-taste of
the ruin and wreck of war. Battered buildings,
shell-marked roads, scattered equipment, carcasses of
animals, freshly dug graves, with the hundred and one
odors of the battlefields, forewarned the men from New
York that this promised to be no gentlemen's war. And
toward these desolate, war-torn woods and villages came
echoes of the 'Valley of the Vesle: to the ears of the
Infantry rushing from Fere-en-Tardenois, and to those of
the Artillery, rattling and clanking along from Chateau
Thierry through the white dust of the rutted roads, came
the full, distant, thunderous " boom-boom-boom
" of the " heavies. " And ever nearer drew
that sound, until, mingling with the roar of General
Mangin's army further north, it became a terrible
drumming.
Division Headquarters moved into Chateau Bruyere, also
called the Chateau de Fere, on the main road between
Fere-en-Tardenois and Mareuil-en-Dole. The ancient
chateau stands on a gently sloping hill, so that one side
is a full story higher than the other.
When Division
Headquarters occupied this building, it had been but
recently evacuated by German troops and was in bad
condition. Inside and out, there were piles of rubbish
and dirt, abandoned ammunition and equipment, and all the
Signs of careless living and hasty evacuation.
Traces of the
ancient splendor of the chateau in the form of a
handsomely framed mirror, a bit of porcelain, or a
beautifully carved fireplace, gave one the sensation of
living in the lap of luxury.
To be sure, this
sensation was entirely dispelled on ascending to the
living rooms, where officers spread their bedding-rolls
on the floor and hoped they had chosen a spot where the
roof did not leak too copiously.
At night, it was
almost weird to hear the droning of the enemy planes
overhead, and to wait for the moment when they should
drop a bomb on the chateau, which, especially on
moonlight nights, offered such a shining mark. But never
a single bomb struck the building, although a day-light
bomb aimed for a truck splashed into the tiny lake of the
grounds one-day, and threw a geyser in exploding. Here,
for several weeks, Division Headquarters lived and
functioned, while the doughboys and the artillerymen
hammered the Boche along the Vesle, and finally crossed
and started in pursuit of him.

Headquarters, 77th Division
Brigade, Regimental
and Battalion Headquarters of the Division's component
organizations were always placed, as far as practicable,
in locations where they were thought to be comparatively
free from molestation, so that executive and
administrative work could be performed with a degree of
continuity. The strictest of camouflage discipline had to
be maintained about such places. These places were often
shelled so heavily that organizations were forced to
shift. Headquarters of the 153d Infantry Brigade was
located in La Tuillerie Ferme, south of Chery-Chartreuve,
and for a time at Chartreuve Ferme. In Villesavoye, the
305th Machine Gun Battalion P. C. changed position three
times within the confines of the village, while at the
Ferme de Dames the 305th and 306th Infantry P. C. were
under constant fire.
The Artillery
relief was made some time later than the Infantry relief,
owing to the fact that the Artillery had hiked. The
Infantry was ordered on August 10th, while the Artillery
pulled its last gun into position the night of the 17th.
'The 77th "caught the sector on the fly," with
very little time given to think or plan over the catch.
" Voila, " said the 62d French. " Bon
Soir, echoed the 4th-and we saw very little of them after
that.
A division of
French held the sector to the 77th's left, while the 28th
Division of Pennsylvanians were on the right. Opposing
the Division during this time, and the subsequent
advance, were the 17th, 29th and 216th Divisions of the
regular German Army, and the 4th Prussian Guards, a stout
array for one American division, new raised into the
brood of Mars, to handle.
The night of the
10th-11th, the first relief of the 153d Brigade attempted
to reach the lines by marching in single file, about ten
feet apart, through the woods north of Chery-Chartreuve,
that village being under continuous gas and
high-explosive bombardment by 77's and 105's. So intense
was the enemy artillery fire on the crest beyond the
village that it was deemed advisable not to effect the
relief that night. The Infantry for the first time "
dug in. "

In Position
"Digging in
" at the front, meant one thing. Each man would dig
himself, as fast as he could, a hole suitable to his
size, either into the flat surface of the ground or into
a protecting bank, into which he would crawl, maintaining
a sitting posture or prone position according to the
nature of the terrain. A shell, in exploding, throws its
fragments upward and outward at a considerable angle, and
these fragments sometimes travel for hundreds of feet
before they finally strike the ground. A shell may burst
close to a funk-hole, as the pit is called, and still not
injure the occupant, while a man standing upright in the
same location woffld be struck by a fragment in its
upward path. In filtering toward the front lines, along a
road with banks on the side, our men often scooped queer
little tunnels into the embankment and dug a funk-bole in
it beside. This scheme worked very well and afforded good
protection against everything but a direct hit.
"Everything is bomb-proof until it is hit," was
a- popular saying among the troops.
After the relief
had been effected successfully, the night following the
first attempt, the men began to grasp an idea of the
varied assortment of "stuff" sent over by the
Boche. Everything is "stuff" at the front. It's
light stuff or heavy stuff, slow stuff or fast stuff; but
all of it is undeniably mean stuff.
Here was a course
in the ethics of high-explosive society. When a wbizzbang
makes an afternoon call, it whistles first, then knocks;
and the best manner in which to receive it is by lying
prone on the stomach. The acquaintance of other fast
company was made. Herr Whizzbang brought along his
"lady-friend," Minnie Werfer, whose custom it
was first to burst into the most uncouth of
caterwaidings, and then into splinters. The minenwerfers
were known as "Iron Mermaids," because of the
fish-like tails that keep them straight on their course.
They are peculiarly disconcerting, as they come through
the air with a wailing sob-like whistle, something like a
mixture of a locomotive whistle and siren, and they are
hard to "judge. " That is, it is diffi-cult to
determine where they will land. The whizzbang travels at
a high velocity, and the noise of the exploding shell is
almost coincident with the shrill whistle that announces
its coming. " Tons -of-Coal "I " Jack
Johnsons, " " G. I. Cans, " and "
Whimpering Willies, " are some of the names adopted
for the German long-range greetings-the eight-inch and
ten-inch howitzer and rifle shells which make craters as
large as eighteen feet in diameter and ten feet in depth.
The " G. I. Can" is so named after the
galvanized iron cans used in army camps.
But this was not
all the Vesle had to offer the men of the 77th Division.
There were airplane bombs and machine guns, hand
grenades, rifle bullets, flame-throwers and gas shells.
These dangers grew more treacherous by night, and were
made still more unpleasant by the sultry weather of those
hot August days. In this setting, fierce hand-to-hand
encounters occurred. Under these conditions, the 153d
Infantry Brigade was holding part of the line on the
Vesle. The system of reliefs was typical of Infantry
reliefs in the American Army. It kept troops of all the units of the
Brigade constantly in action, while parts of these units were at the
same time in reserve and support. A Battalion of Infantry consists of
four Companies. The
Second Battalion of the 308th relieved a battalion of the
305th with orders to have two companies across the river
along the railroad track. The remaining two companies were
kept in support, one near the Tannerie, and the other on
a hillside south of Villesavoye. As the Second Battalion
went into the out-post zone, the Third and First
Battalions of the 308th moved into support position on a
line running east and west through Mont Saint Martin and
about two kilometers north of Chery-Chartreuve. The Third
Battalion then held the right half of this line with a
Post of Command in a small quarry near La Pres Ferme,
while the First Battalion held the left. Later the Second
Battalion was relieved by the Third Battalion, and the
former marched back to a position in Pisotte Forest,
north and east of Nesles, where it gained a comparative
rest, though enemy artillery always fired on the woods.
The 307th Infantry then followed a like rotation.

Stops for Chow
During one relief,
when the 306th was going out of Mont Notre Dame, Sing
Kee, a Chinese, operated a message center in that village
while the Germans were bombarding and gassing it at the
rate of thirty shells a minute. His companions were
wounded one by one and, though gassed himself, Sing Kee
refused to leave his post, but ran the message center
alone for twenty-four hours. It was only one more
evidence of the fact that in the cosmopolitan composition
of the Division lay its strength. The twenty-four hours
of courage and endurance won for Sing Kee a Distinguished
Service Cross.
A patrol of one
officer and two men stumbled over a perfectly
innocent-looking shell-hole on the night of August 15th,
and found in it two Germans with auto rifles,
hand-grenades, and two other rifles stacked against the
sides of the hole. It was a well-hidden sniper's post. A
hand-to-hand struggle ensued; one German was wounded, and
the other escaped. Ten minutes later the light artillery
was filling that region with gas and high explosive, for
it was thought that other shell holes in the vicinity
were undoubtedly being used for the same purpose. Such
were the encounters in the Valley of the Vesle. It was
not a struggle of masses; it was the tussle of man with
man.
The night of August
22d, the Germans put down a barrage of high-explosive
shells and gas which was meant to sweep the entire front
lire. At one point, where the line crossed the railroad
track, a detachment of Germans stole up through the cut
and attacked fifty men of I and K Companies of the 308th
Infantry with " flammenwerfer. " The bright
yellow light thrown by the flaming spray of the
projectors illuminated the surroundings as in mid-day and
caused each man to stand out like an actor behind the
foot-lights of a stage. Machine guns of both sides took
advantage of the betraying light; in fact, the Germans
had brought some of them through the cut to support the
flame-throwers. But the life of a
"flammenwerfer" is short. The little band-of
fifty, by taking cover in the brush at the sides of the
cut and crawling through the ditches, routed the enemy
and took twelve of them prisoners.
Under the raking
fire of enemy machine-guns, and subject to relentless
sniping, the 302d Engineers worked each night on the
bridges crossing the Vesle, to make them passable for the
Infantry. Such activity had to be carried on with extreme
caution, as even the sound of pick and shovel, in the
quiet of a night lull, prompted a stream of machine-gun
and artillery fire. Many were the times when the
Engineers, surprised at work, dug in for life. At still
other times they joined the Infantry in repelling some
raiding party.
While the Infantry,
Machine Guns and Engineers faced these conditions close
by the river, the 304th, 305th and 306th Field Artillery
were pounding away farther to the rear. The 304th and
305th Light Artillery, using the famous French 75
(corresponding to our three-inch rifle), were emplaced
behind the first crest which commanded the Vesle, while
the 306th, with 155 Howitzers (a short gun of about
six-inch caliber with a high angle of fire), had its
pieces tucked into patches of Woods, under trees, and in
open field positions, artificially camouflaged, to the
rear of Chery -Chartreuve.
Scarcely an inch of ground was there which was not fired
upon by some kind of German gun. The Boche has a nasty
habit of moving his guns about and of changing his
targets from hour to hour. A well-known war correspondent
writes:-
" The communiques of those days invariably
read-'Artillery activity along the sector. Nothing else
to report.' The strain of holding a stationary sector for
days is always greater than that produced in an advance,
and the casualties incurred are always many. There exists
none of the exuberance and spirit of a great battle, but
there is all the strain and drudgery. "
The main highway
leading to the rear was under constant observation by
eight enemy balloons, which could be seen hanging lazily
against the clouds five miles to the enemy's rear.
Despite this fact, the 302d Ammunition Train and 302d
Supply Train often sent forward material for both
Infantry and Artillery during the daylight hours. Enemy
sniper batteries lost no opportunities to fire at the
trucks. On our side, the "traveling salesmen"
or Corps Artillery, which moved from place to place in
the sector, often changing position three or four times a
night, sniped at the enemy. The sentry of the 302d
Military Police, who was directing the endless night
traffic at the Dole crossroads, which was heavily shelled
every night, jumped into the air about six feet one
morning, when a thunderous report shattered his ear close
by. A "traveling salesman" had moved in close
to his post, and was " selling iron cigars, "
as he put it, when he recovered.
Shells played a
number of queer tricks, Most mysterious are those, which
did not explode at all, the "duds." A dud comes
over with all the pomp, ceremony and animation of a
regular shell, then suddenly loses all ambition, and
lands with a dull, unsatisfying thud. The failure of a
dud to explode sometimes depends only upon the movement
of a tiny spring attached to the fuse, so that men are
warned always to be careful in the vicinity of a dud.
"You all cain't tell me that that boy ain't gonna go
off some time, " a Kentucky lad on the way from La
Pres Ferme to Mont Saint Martin told his associates one
day, while passing a dud on the road, "He's only
playin' possum! "
Beginning August
30th, our Artillery placed a destructive fire on
Bazoches, that did not cease until September 4th, when
the Germans retreated. All day and all night, gas and
high-explosive shells were sent hurtling into the town
and the railroad sheds, and as most of the observation
was accomplished from Infantry Observation Posts,
scarcely a shell missed its mark. The town was hammered,
stone from stone, until by the 4th of September, no
buildings, and only part of the church, were at all
intact.
IN THE AIR
In the air, the enemy were much in evidence. It was at a
period when the United States had not set its air program
into full operation, while the French and British were
hard put to it to lend what planes they could spare. The
Boche would take almost any chances, even going so far as
to circle over the American pieces on bright sunny days,
directing the fire of the German guns with great
accuracy. Those were the days when the "under
cover" whistle was heard frequently, and when guns
had to cease firing for minutes at a time so as not to
betray their positions.
Chery-Chartreuve
was bombed frequently with small bombs, as were Chateau
Ferme and other buildings in the vicinity; and to the
west of Chery, there is a large volcano-like crater over
sixty feet across and fifteen feet deep, made by the
largest of " G. I. Cans." The entire 152d
Brigade, which was tented in Nesles Wood, the night of
August 15th, preparatory to moving into position, was
subjected to aerial bombardment twice that night.
There are men in
the 77th who would rather dodge machine-gun bullets and
shells mixed up in pleasing proportions than listen to
the ominous, galloping hum of a Boche bomber in the air
on a bright moonlight night. One can hear him coming from
afar, until that " hum-bum-bum " seems as
though it must be directly over one. Then comes a
resounding crash, with no previous sound or warning
whistle at all-then another, and two or three more, all
in a string, rocking the ground for miles. The delicate,
silver-white fingers of searchlights grope the heavens
for the monster, while machine guns and anti-aircraft
pieces shatter the air. Tiny balls of fire, shrapnel
bursting thousands of yards from the earth, mock the moon
and stars.
On the front line,
airmen flew low over the Infantry positions, firing their
machine guns on the men below. Again, planes would send
back data regarding the activity of a few men in an
exposed spot, and a sniper battery immediately started
firing on them. Even one man would draw a shrapnel shell
from the Boche. But for every shell fired at the 77th,
the Division was assured by its commander, two were being
fired in return, and the consolation always took form in
the words, "Well, he's getting it twice as badly as
we are."
Communication with
friendly airplanes directing movements and fire was by
means of panels of white cloth spread on the ground.
Planes were able to send radio messages to the ground
station, but to reciprocate was found impracticable, so
this slow panel system had to be employed.
The observation
balloons, floating above the trees just beyond Nesles
Wood, behind Dole, were fired upon, August 12th, point
blank by German artillery. The fragment of a shell
punctured the gas-bag of one, forcing the observer to
parachute to the earth. Shortly before noon of the same
day, the balloon patrol of three planes about the other
balloon warned the winch-men that an enemy flier was
approaching. "Archies" opened up on the Boche,
but he was already circling and dodging above the
sausage. He made a spectacular series of dives, dipped,
and sent a destroy-ing phosphorus bomb into the balloon.
The observer leaped into space, while the Boche galloped
away.
On the night of
August 27th, a raid against Bazoches was carried out.
With the support of the Artillery, the Infantry outdid
itself in acts of individual heroism, bravery and
courage. The plan was to attack the village, and then to
hold it from the flanks with a platoon of Infantry and
two heavy machine guns in position on each of the four
outlying corners of the town. To the east of the village,
the 154th Brigade was to be extended along the railroad
track until its left flank reached the woods lying to the
south of the railroad. A company of Infantry, a
detachment of Engineers and Divisional Artillery were to
accomplish this task. Machine-gun Battalions were to be
used in support.
The night of the
raid was warm and clear, but almost pitch-dark, except
for the light thrown by the twinkling of stars in a sky
that was almost indigo. Long before daylight, the
Artillery began laying a heavy box barrage around
Bazoches. Behind them, the Infantry heard the reassuring
roar of the " lights " and " heavies,
" their cannoneers toiling, and before them the
still more encouraging " crash-crump " of the
shells bursting in Bazoches. A counter-barrage was laid
by the Boche, and the din grew to be ear-splitting.
Rockets and lights shot up against the dark sky from both
sides, illuminating the landscape for miles about.
Shortly before dawn, the Infantry went forward. Machine
guns, Chauchat rifles and grenades added their rattle and
crash to the uproar. One of the riots in the Hell-hole of
the Vesle was in full swing. This little action is a
record of supreme sacrifice on the part of many men in
the 77th.
As the platoons of
Infantry advanced toward Bazoches, it was most difficult
to maintain communication, and detachments had no other
way in which to keep contact, except by runner. While
delivering a message from 306th Infantry Headquarters to
an advanced platoon, Corporal James J. McDonald was
caught in a barrage of high-explosive shells and
machine-gun fire, and fell, wounded. He was picked up by
a party of Germans and taken to an advanced dressing
station, where his wounds were bound by a German surgeon.
McDonald, who was recuperating, watched his chance, and
in the confusion attendant upon the bringing in of some
more German wounded, he slipped out of the dugout in
which the station was located. By ducking into
shell-holes, and taking cover whenever he heard a
movement, he recrossed to our lines, bearing information,
which he had overheard in the dugout, that the enemy
intended to surprise and capture two of the American
platoons. His information was immediately acted upon, and
the platoons were reinforced.
At about four
o'clock the same morning, Company G, 306th Infantry, was
forced to lie flat for five minutes when the Germans
threw up flares, by the light of which they send
hand-grenades into the men. The flares burned out. A
hundred yards further on a stream of machine-gun bullets
met the men, and they crawled for some distance until
they reached the outskirts of the village. Four Germans
jumped up from the cover of a machine-gun nest, threw up
their hands and shouted, " Kamerad. " Sergeant
Frederick Stouke, then a private, and another man ran
forward to take them prisoners. Two ran off. Stouke
killed one, but the other escaped. Then for ten minutes
they held the other two at the point of the pistol, under
heavy machine-gun fire, and started to crawl back to
Company Headquarters. So intense was the fire that Stouke
sought shelter behind a wooden barrack with his two
prisoners. Most of his equipment had been shot from him
and the man helping had become separated from the party.
The Germans kept firing at that barrack all daylong, and
it was not until eight o'clock that night that Stouke
found a chance to move. Meanwhile the Boche, under cover
of darkness, set fire to the barrack, and one of the
prisoners made his escape during the excitement. Stouke
overpowered the other, who made as though to help his
comrade, threw him across his shoulders, and began the
weary tramp to Headquarters once more. Bullets sang all
about him. His prisoner was shot in the face. He finally
reached the railroad track, and stumbled into
Headquarters with the wounded Boche.
Water was often the
main need in fighting during those hot August days.
"Bring as few men as possible, with water, "
read one hasty message sent back by a detachment of the
308th Infantry.
The raid on
Bazoehes was supplemented by firing from Stokes mortars,
and by a thermit attack launched by the 30th Engineers.
The mortar filled Bazoehes with smoke, screening the
operations from the enemy, while ninety
thermit-projectors threw thermit and burning oil on the
road north of Bazoches and on Haute Maisons, above the
village. The white-hot thermit, as it was thrown in all
directions from the exploding projectile, made a great
pyrotechnic display.
In the companion
action about Fismes, a second lieutenant of the 307th
Infantry found him-self and his company suddenly
subjected to very heavy artillery fire. His four superior
officers had become casualties and the company was
severely depleted. The lieutenant rallied his shattered
forces and led an attack to cover the flank of his
battalion, so that it was able to strengthen and
consolidate its position.
Of like nature is
the story of Corporal Joseph A. McAllister, who, the
night of August 27th, led his squad of 307th Infantrymen
against an enemy machine-gull nest at Chateau du Diable
near Fismes. After all his men had been wounded, and he
himself was suffering from wounds, lie withdrew,
collected a new squad of men about him, and advanced
again on the machine-gun nest. He was driven off three
times. Finally he and his little squad crawled up on the
gun, driving off part of the crew and killing the rest. A
Distinguished Service Cross fell to the corporal for this
action.
LIAISON
Liaison of every nature was employed at the Vesle, for
communication of any kind was subject to constant
interruption, because of the enemy's excellent
observation. The telephone, radio, runners, dogs, and
pigeons were used as the conditions warranted.
In the Artillery
the runners were mounted, in the Infantry they went
afoot. "Poor little devils" the British were
wont to dub these fellows who wormed and squirmed their
way around in the trenches, over shell-torn fields and
through tangled woods. One runner with the Infantry was
accustomed to taking a short-cut in going from Regimental
to the front line. One day, the little runner had
occasion to guide a lieutenant through the path. The
lieutenant later looked up the route on the map and found
that his runner had been crossing "No Man's
Land" for fully half a mile every night!

Services Were Held in a Shell-torn Church
From way back in
the rear somewhere, to the very advance lines, telephone
communication is kept up wherever possible. Telephone men
at the front used to pride themselves in saying that the
lowest buck private in the trenches could get a direct
line straight through to General Pershing at G. H. Q.
Both in Infantry and Artillery, men went out night and
day to connect lines that were broken by shell-fire. A
lineman from the 302d Field Signal Battalion on one
occasion found his line sagging into the river, with not
a bush or twig near to tie it up. The dead body of a
German was the only object that broke the contour of the
land. The lineman tied the wire to the German to keep it
clear of the river! Often telephone men had to feel their
way along a line to catch the break, and, as the break
was always where the shells were bursting, it was
hazardous work. Heavily shelled lines had to be dug
under, or laid with armored cable. Centrals were located
in all sorts of shelter-in desolate buildings, in
dugouts, in cellars, caves, and sometimes only in a
funk-hole.
An idea of
telephone work at the front can be obtained by following
a few of the experiences of the Men in the Field Signal
Battalion. Twenty of their men left with the 307th
Infantry marched on the 24th of August to a little valley
east of Chery-Chartreuve. There, in a hole dug in the
side of a cliff, was established 307th Regimental
Headquarters, known as "College Point." All
the, Headquarters had code names.
There was one line
here that was especially hard to keep up. The station was
in a cave on the north slope running parallel with the
Vesle river, under observation by Boche balloons. This
field was shelled so heavily that it was necessary to run
six lines from the road on the south side of the hill
over the crest and down the side of the hill to the cave.
During the night, the line could be repaired, but it was
useless to attempt it by day; for as soon as a lineman
made his appearance on the side of the hill, he would
receive a salute of three-inch shells and one-pounders.
If they didn't get him, they'd get the lines. One man was
blown off his feet but not injured, while digging a
trench for a line, and almost buried in the trench
itself. Another party, and this was only one of many sent
out, was harassed for several hours by a low-flying plane
which machine-gunned it from time to time, as a cat plays
with mice.
Liaison agents had
many wild rides along the highways and byways of the
sector, and where horses or riding mules could be used,
these agents were to be seen trotting from position to
position all hours of the twenty-four.
Projector and
semaphore, upon which so much time had been spent in
training, were found more or less impracticable. Much
stranger means were used. French message-dogs proved
them-selves most faithful under fire, and in certain
instances were used with marked success. These dogs were
kept under the special care and tutelage of just two men,
who petted, fondled and fed them. During an action, one
of the dog's protectors was stationed at each end of the
run. The message was placed in a thimble-like arrangement
on the dog's collar, and the animal was started off.
Through all kinds of fire, and over the most impassable
of country, these little animals would run, to come in
panting and frightened to a place where the other keeper
was waiting to receive them.
Where obstacle
prevented the passage of animals and men, and eliminated
the laying of tele-phone lines, pigeons were sent out
from portable cages. A story is told of a carrier pigeon
which arrived with a vital message, with one leg shot off
by hostile machine-gun fire.
It was Labor Day,
September 2d that a doughboy whispered to his companion:
" Gee, I wish we could make that Labor Day excursion
up the Hudson with the folks this year!
And then, after a moments mournful deliberation, he
added, "But I guess a little raid across the Vesle
will have to be good enough, Hank. "
Two days later the Boche fled toward the Aisne, and Hank,
and the whole Division, took "the excursion across
the Vesle."