USA > Connecticut > Windham County > A modern history of Windham county, Connecticut : a Windham county treasure book, Volume I > Part 91
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By the morning of the second day we had advanced ten kilometres into enemy territory, and the attack was still going strong. Two or three incidents took place during the attack which offered us a bit of diversion from the ordi- nary routine of carrying wounded, such little events that gave flavor to the occupation. One of these illustrates to perfection the boche character and the high regard for honor and fair play which the boche always maintained. We were using many of the prisoners as stretcher bearers, but it was always nec- essary to watch them closely, for a boche felt no more compunction in murder- ing a wounded man than in swatting a fly. One of them tried a devilish trick on us, a stunt quite characteristic of the boche. However, he paid for it. As it happened, he was an officer and wounded, and because of this fact we had taken particular pains with him and put him into the ambulance ahead of some of our own Frenchmen. In some unaccountable manner he had been allowed to retain possession of his side arms, and just as the driver was taking his seat, the boche, raising himself on one arm, pointed his gun at the front wall of the car. His act did not escape detection, however, for quick as a flash the captain who was overseeing the work pulled his gun and shot the boche through the head. Then he ordered us to pull him out, whereupon some "bran- cardiers" took him and flung him over the bank down into the ravine below. The captain was a truly crazy man, bellowing like an enraged bull as he emptied his revolver into a group of sullen looking boches standing by and eyeing furtively a pile of discarded bayonets. Another moment and they all would have grabbed one and murdered us all. He heaped upon their heads all the curses and imprecations in the French tongue, of which the language has a copious supply. Those who remained were marched down the road at the point of the bayonet. This little incident, characteristically boche, was merely one of thousands of instances of boche treachery, but a purely typical specimen. Any number of a similar nature occurred almost daily. A boche has his goal set for him, and he is bound to arrive at it regardless of the manner or means. He is supposed to kill as many of the enemy as possible; the method matters not. The words "honor" and "square dealing" are absolutely unknown to the boche. He does not understand anything about fair play, and any argu-
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ments to convince him of his fallacy will prove entirely futile. If he is serving the Kaiser, why, then, it must be all right. There is no such thing as honor, unless it is in accord with the fatherland's policy. And particularly, if he feels he is about done for himself anyway, he has little hesitation in killing a benefactor. This is the true boche, a murderer, traitor, defiler. Though the men were soft as any kittens, cringing and blubbering like babes, the officers still maintained the haughty, arrogant, Prussian bearing. But their pride had suffered a tremendous fall, and of all the humiliations and tortures they had to endure this broken pride was the most galling. They were not merely badly bent, but irreparably broken. How it warmed our hearts to see them squirm! Yet even as prisoners they attempted to lord it over their men, and no drink-crazed lunatic would treat a dog as vilely as these officers did their men. But a few raps on the head or a bullet through the skull performed miracles in destroying this tyrannical attitude, and after a few examples had been made of them by the irate "poilus" they became as meek as little Moses.
The attack continued another day with the same degree of success. Tanks in large numbers had been put into play, and before their powerful onslaught the boche simply flew. So fast did they fly, in fact, that our most advanced troops lost all contact with them on several occasions. Retreating by night under cover of a deadly barrage, in the morning Fritz would be far removed from our most advanced posts, and the whole day was spent in trying to catch · up to them. To one of our cooks, an old regular army man, the speedy re- treat was nothing short of miraculous. He swore that the boche had retreated in balloons, for there was no other way to account for the great speed. (But this individual was never troubled with super-intellectual ability.)
About this time a hot wave started in which rendered the task of running after Fritz even more arduous, especially since the "poilus" were not equipped for running races but marched with full packs. Finally the country became more hilly, and here the boche was able to make a stand and offer no mean resistance. Entrenching himself along the ridges he mounted machine guns, and from these elevations his position was practically impregnable. The French- men were mowed down before they even got started up the hill. The attack came to a halt. The division, worn out from continued fighting and marching in the heat, were unable to advance another foot. Indeed, we ourselves had had enough for one time, and so it was with a peculiar delight that news finally arrived that we were to be relieved that night, the sixth day of the attack. But just so that we might get full measure fate so arranged matters that we were kept on the job until the very last moment. The activities of that last night are still unforgotten. As it happened, it was a bright moonlight night, and Fritz was out doing his "dirty work" on a large scale. Two of us had been sent out to one of the posts to wait for wounded, and as we were driving along there suddenly appeared directly in front of us a flash and then a fierce explosion. The motor had been making such an abominable noise that we had not heard the plane, the exploding bomb being the first hint of danger that we had. A camion had been moving along ahead of us, and we thought it must surely have been struck. Speeding up, we came upon a scene which con- firmed our greatest fears. The sight was sickening-the result of a direct, clean hit. One man was dead as a door nail, two others were wounded so badly that they died shortly after, and two others were wounded less seriously. We found them lying in a heap of wreckage, swimming in blood, writhing and twisting Vol. 1-47
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and uttering the most horrible groans. One had both legs off. We tied tourn- iquets around each, but it was of no use, as he died in a few moments. We threw them into the car just as they were and made all possible speed to the "poste de secours," where the "médicin chef" took them in charge.
One more incident which wound up our experience here, and one which is always recalled to our minds whenever we think of this sector, occurred early the following morning just before we were relieved. A call came about four o'clock for a car to go after some "blessés" up the road, and the "médicin chef" went along to point out the way. We pretended to know the exact des- tination and route, but in reality we didn't have the slightest idea where we were going. A sort of a wild old boy was this captain, smiling and jovial, brave and reckless, but no soldier. The first we knew of our whereabouts was when we met some soldiers, who, after expressing much surprise at our pres- ence, informed us that we were in the first lines. Just about then a couple of stray shells whizzed by, and captain lost no time in deciding what course to take, but ordered the driver to turn around and go "tout de suite." We did. Arrived back at the post we sought more explicit instructions. We had been there scarcely two minutes when the boche started to put up a barrage, which, while it lasted, was pretty hot. About every sixty seconds we would drop on our stomachs as a shell whizzed over, and the captain, who was a very stout man of about fifty winters, would fume and swear as he sank in the dirt, let- ting out some awful pet names which would scarcely bear repeating even in French. He was covered with perspiration, and his face looked like a boiled lobster, for the atmosphere was extremely warm and humid. At any other time and under other circumstances it would have been a highly humorous spectacle, but just then we were too preoccupied with our own thoughts and actions. We just dug and burrowed in the dirt like so many rabbits, and after we had holes large enough to crawl into we put the car cushions over our heads. Fine protection! But we resemble more or less closely the ostrich kind. If one covers his face so that he cannot see, he feels safer.
That morning we were relieved, and in the afternoon we packed up and moved to the rear for another "repos," welcome, of course, but soon boring.
THE WAR IN BELGIUM : FLANDERS
With the second Aisne-Oise offensive over, 585 left the scene of war in the vicinity of Soissons and journeyed to the Belgian border to take part in the last great major operation in the north-the Ypres-Lys offensive. The attack began on the morning of September 28th under the supervision of King Albert, to whose army we were then attached. The Belgians began the drive with the French following them up and relieving them when they were played out, while the English and Australians were working on our right.
Saturday morning at two o'clock six cars were sent out from the village of Beveren to establish posts. Shortly after we had started it began to rain, and gradually it developed into a downpour which continued throughout the day. The barrage had already commenced, and as we rode along in the black- ness such an impression was made on our minds that the memory of it still remains extremely vivid. The sector formed a huge salient, so that we were facing the boche on three sides, the line forming a little more than a semi- circle. It was indeed a beautiful sight that greeted us as we approached the lines where the guns were booming and flashing. The whole horizon was a
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streak of red, and the flares of green, white and red rockets shot into the air gave the appearance of an ever-recurring rainbow. Unfortunately, however, we were in no frame of mind to mark the beauty or picturesqueness of it. To roll out of bed at two A. M. and start out in the cold and black and rain on the way to the lines somehow or other deadens one's spirits tremendously, and when we were greeted by a couple of stray shells, while waiting at a cross- road, we could only join the "poilus" in "cursing out" the boche as being the cause of all our discomfort.
Up till now the roads had been nothing to complain of. At least they seemed all right at night. But the sight that met our eyes at daybreak sent a chill down our spines. We had stopped on the edge of the most devastated country imaginable-the country that for four years had formed No Man's Land, fought over until there was nothing left to fight for. So different was it from anything we had ever witnessed before or even imagined, that it was difficult to comprehend how any destruction could be so utterly complete and absolute as this stretch of desolate land ahead of us. Everything in nature was dead; not a green thing in sight for miles around. What had been once trees and forests were now mere stumps and poles, stripped of all branches, and looking like the skeleton of a forest outlined against the sky-all blackened and splintered by the shellfire of two armies. The vast expanse of what had once constituted cultivated fields and inhabited towns was simply a tangled mass of barbed wire, sheet iron, and rubbish of all kinds scattered over this broad stretch of holes, mud and water. Not a trace of a human dwelling, un- less one regards as dwellings the tumbled-in dugouts and ditches which we usurped. It was truly a wilderness in which death and devastation were writ- ten large. It seemed incredible that where once a good sized city had stood not even a stone remained in place to mark the foundation of former build- ings. Where the railroad station had been (this city of Langemarcq had had population of forty thousand in pre-war days), now one could see only a huge pile of debris, broken bits of freight cars, and a few rails twisted and jutting into the air, while a mound of dirt marked the sight of the church. "e formerly had been paved streets now existed stretches of mud and loose cobble stones buried in slime and water.
Then the mud. Only one who is acquainted with the mud of Flanders can form any adequate idea of what it is or can appreciate any attempts to de- scribe it, so unlike ordinary mud is it. Veritable rivers of mud marked the former roads and streets, full of blocks and holes without bottom, while wire and logs, skeletons of camions, horses and human were mixed in together in it in a regular hotchpotch. All this had to be cleared away and smoothed over before there could be any such thing as traffic over the road, and imme- diately the troops advanced, the engineers got busy. But it was a very dis- couraging task. The worst holes were covered with logs and railroad ties and brush and stones, as offering a temporary passage, though it was not until later that the road was really repaired. As it was, passage was almost im- possible. Rude bridges were laid over the largest holes, but they were ex- ceedingly shaky and offered little help. This, then, was the Flanders mud, of which we had so often heard the Tommies speak. Rather it resembled a heavy glue, thick and sticky, while in some places where water had collected were rivers of thin, slimy ooze, absolutely hiding all trace of the road bed. Some- times the mud passed completely over the axles and touched the car bodies. A
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few teams started through, but all were stuck in a short time. And let it here be stated to "Henry's" credit that he beat them all.
The little "flivver," the much ridiculed and laughed-over "tin lizzie," was the first creature on four wheels to wade through that sea of corruption- twelve miles of it. Of course he got stuck again and again, but he always climbed out of the worst holes with the aid of a few "poilus" pushing. In one place we came to a pile of logs and brush about a foot high which some Belgians had laid across a hole. Being unable to make it by assault, we jumped out into the mire, which reached to our knees, and with the help of the Belgians, laid two boards from the top of the pile slanting down. Despite the protesta- tions of the "aspirant" with us, who avowed that it was impossible, little old "Henry" climbed up the path laid for him with no aid whatsoever, while the Belgians stood looking on with eyes protruding like marbles. This gradual progress continued for hours, now on top of a crest, now down into an abyss, while the car tossed from side to side like a ship on the high seas. "Henry" was puffing and boiling and sweating, but he was game and stuck to it. No other vehicles had attempted it. Nothing but pack horses had been able to make it. Finally, about dark, we six cars passed through the last stretch and arrived once again on firm ground, where the boche had been the previous evening. Or rather, five cars, as one of our number burned out a speed band and had to remain where he was.
Two days later the section itself started through, two days being required to make the passage of twelve miles. In the meantime thousands of Belgians and French engineers had been working on the road, and though it was still very rough indeed, it was a great improvement over the earlier condition. By this time trains of artillery and camions were starting through, and from now on it was even worse than before, for now we had the congested traffic to deal with. Hours passed before convoys could move at all. One team would go ahead a short distance, get stuck, and then all hands took hold and pushed it ahead a few yards. The same was done with the next, and so on, so that prog- ress was necessarily slow and discouraging. Many horses gave out entirely, dropping dead in their tracks. Others became balky and unmanageable and refused to budge. All this time there were miles of convoys in the rear, wait- ing. All forward movement ceased, and the attack was forced to slacken, and finally to come to a complete standstill, as no artillery could get through. And worst of all-no food. For the first time in their lives the men of 585 were really up against it. For drink we got muddy water from shell holes, and to make it a little more palatable coffee was put into it. Of course the section had reserve rations, but the six cars that had gone ahead had no food at all. Forty-eight hours we had no morsel to eat and only muddy water to drink. If it hadn't been for the goodly supply of "smokes" we would have fared much worse. Finally we found on the floor of one of the cars a crust of bread covered with mud and stained with blood, two boxes of "singe," and a piece of raw pork. This we divided with the Frenchmen, so after "all was said and done" our stomachs felt little relieved. We had never imagined ourselves eating such stuff, yet when one has genuine hunger he will eat anything.
DESPERATE RESORT FOR FOOD
Then we hit upon another source of food; namely, the nourishment offered by the faithful beasts of burden. The horses that fell did not remain intact
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very long. In about as short a space of time as it takes to tell it an army of soldiers jumped on the poor animals and performed an autopsy. Out came knives of all sizes, from pen knives to bayonets, and soon the poor animal lost his skin and most of his flesh, as huge juicy steaks were cut off. We pulled up alongside an English post for the purpose of exchanging greetings in our own tongue for a change. We found the men busily engaged in slicing up one of these animals, and seeing us standing around casting longing glances at the luscious meat, they threw us each a five-pound steak. We whittled off pieces small enough to be contained in the mouth all at once and began chewing it like starved lions. After we had killed the worst pangs, we built a fire and cooked some in our mess kits. Then Tommy made some tea from shellhole water and our repast was complete. How good it felt to have full stomachs again, and how wonderful that after-dinner smoke tasted ! We had at any rate learned to know what real hunger was, and we felt grateful to the Englishmen as well as to the horse, and they (not the horse) felt likewise toward us for the "smokes." Everybody happy again! At such times when one is hard pressed all kinds get together. The spirit of "camraderie" is strong-English, French, American, all chummy and contented over a dead horse.
After two days the section came through and was assigned to barracks in their new found land in an old shattered house which was formerly the head- quarters of the German staff in Flanders. Our feelings would be hard to describe when we were once more on solid ground and could ride along in high gear. And one might have thought a house was a complete novelty so great was our delight upon seeing a tumble-down shack. Four days later "ravitaille- ment" began to get through, but in the meantime we were fed by aeroplane. British and Belgian planes flew low over the treetops and dropped sacks of canned "bully beef" and chocolate.
But while we received food, we had no means of getting gasoline, the supply of which had now become dangerously low. All that remained was the little bit still contained in the tanks of the cars, all the reserve having been long since exhausted. A car was sent to the rear for some, returning three days later, and during this time we ran out entirely. The various cars had to remain wherever they stopped, scattered all over the country, while wounded had to be pushed on two-wheeled gigs for a distance of four kilometers, or were carried by boche prisoners. The situation became very serious, and many of the wounded died from exposure before they could be gotten to the rear.
When finally a small quantity of gas arrived we started carrying the wounded back. And then our troubles began anew, for now the roads were jammed with traffic, and it was impossible to make the trip and return in less than two days. The first car out was on the road forty-two consecutive hours before it arrived at the hospital in the capacity of a hearse. Driving was most difficult. It being the rainy season, the nights were so black one could not see his hand before his face. Progress was made by inches. Every few yards the driver was forced to get out and feel along the gutter as the only means of keeping in the middle of the road and of locating the holes. Then, too, there was always the possibility of a collision in the dark. All of a sudden something would loom up out of the blackness; a yell and a crash. Too late! And such usually meant a fractured radiator. Then there were the groans of the dying "blesses" to cope with. For hours we were compelled to listen to cries of these suffering
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men, and it was this that constituted the most nerve-wracking feature of ambulance driving, particularly when with it came the realization that nothing could be done for them at all. The only course open to us was to plow ahead and to get to the hospital as soon as possible. We had to turn a deaf ear to the pitiful cries and entreaties to stop, yet it was hard to do. Experience hard- ened us to a certain degree, yet no man could ever become totally heedless of the suffering of these dying souls. Yet the only alternative was to shut one's teeth and go on. A night drive with wounded men was far more wearing than a dash through shellfire. Often it was necessary to stop altogether where the road was known to be particularly bad. It was in such cases a question of coming to a halt voluntarily or of being forced to be stopped abruptly by fall- ing into a mud pit or of sliding over into a mine crater. The soil was often very soft and treacherous where a mine had exploded, and it was no uncom- mon event for a whole team to plunge into a hole. In one case a team of six horses fell bodily into a huge hole which had been made by several mines planted at a cross-roads. The poor horses were held fast until they slowly drowned. Many idle hours were spent waiting for daylight, and many of the wounded died as a result of lack of attendance. Yet our division was fortu- nate in being able to evacuate them at all, for the other divisions had no way whatsoever of transporting their men. Many a Belgian or Tommy lay for days in a hole or ditch without any attention at all. As a result we were carrying Belgian and British wounded as well as our own.
After some time the roads had been improved to such a degree that traffic came nearer to normal; and then the attack recommenced. The boche put up a stiff resistance now, however, and the advance was slow and gained only with great losses. Our casualties soared way up, and then other divisions came to our relief, though we followed along after them to replace them in turn when they should be exhausted. The boche withdrew from Roulers, passed through Iseghem and Ingelmunster, and from then on the retreat was rapid and wild. We followed closely, covering several kilometers daily all through the month of October until we finally arrived at the River Escaut. Audenarde fell after severe fighting, and the attack was going strong when suddenly out of a clear sky came the armistice. Naturally we were wild with delight that it was all over, yet everyone felt a keen disappointment that we had let up on Fritz when we had him running so beautifully. We should have gone on and fol- lowed him into his own country, for we headed fast that way. The war ended too soon, and it must be finished at a later date.
THE NEAR EAST AND THE ARMENIANS
GRAPHIC STORY OF POST-WAR EXPERIENCE OF A WINDHAM COUNTY GIRL-THE BEAU- TIFUL MEDITERRANEAN-THE NOW-HISTORIC ISLE OF PRINKIPO-SIGHTS AND SCENES IN THE ORIENT-THE WONDERFUL INSPIRATION OF THE VIEW FROM THE MOUNT OF OLIVES
One of that notable party which traveled from America just after the armistice was signed, to carry relief to the suffering peoples of the "Near East," was a Windham County girl, Pauline Comfort Bill, elder daughter of Arthur I. Bill of Willimantic, and granddaughter of the late Horatio N. Bill, whose association with Prof. J. D. Dana of Yale in local geological research is
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referred to elsewhere in this volume. Miss Bill was graduated from Windham High School in 1911; from teachers' college, Columbia University, in 1916, with a B. S. degree in woodcraft and metal working, for which art she had shown remarkable aptitude from childhood. She worked for two years in an interior- decorating and antique-furniture shop in New York City; was employed for a year in a munitions plant in Bloomfield, N. J., as machine operator and tool- setter ; and then, as described in her letters, she joined the "Near East Relief Expedition." Knowledge of her experience, and of her talent in graphic description, led to a request from the editor for a contribution for the Modern History, and the response was permission to make selections from her letters home, as in the composite article following :
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