The first hundred years : records and reminiscences of a century of Company I, Seventh Regiment, N.G.N.Y., 1838-1938, Part 35

Author:
Publication date: 1938
Publisher: [Place of publication not identified] : [publisher not identified]
Number of Pages: 666


USA > New York > The first hundred years : records and reminiscences of a century of Company I, Seventh Regiment, N.G.N.Y., 1838-1938 > Part 35


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For five weary days and five hellish nights the Company clung to this road in Vaux-Andigny, subjected to the worst bombardments of gas and H.E. and trench bombs of the entire campaign. Everyone was wet and cold and miser- able. Sometimes food came up and sometimes the transport was wrecked and the Company went hungry. They would have been hungrier than they were had it not been for the untiring efforts of the two Company runners, Mechanics Wakeman and Mclaughlin, who guided our carrying parties over shell-swept areas and never lost a man-nor a can of jam.


The 2nd Battalion was finally located by Lieutenant Murphy five hundred yards to our left across the open fields. This open space was covered by machine gun companies back in La Haie Menneresse, but it was No Man's Land and no one ventured to cross it in the daytime.


One afternoon Corporal Tuthill, who was holding a Lewis gun post cover- ing the road across the open, saw a woman, pushing a baby carriage and leading a little boy, walk briskly toward our lines. At the risk of drawing fire, the boys tried to motion to her to go back, but on she came. The Huns let her get within a hundred and fifty yards of our lines and then opened fire on her. Leaving the carriage, which was riddled, the little woman grabbed up the child and started to run. Machine gun bullets kicked up the dirt all around her, but she reached Tuthill's gunpit with the boy, scared nearly to death but unhurt. She had no sooner reached the road and got safely under cover than down came a terror of a barrage, in answer to one the British were putting over to the right of the village.


Our visitors were made as comfortable as possible, and late that night were taken to the rear, and soon out of reach of the guns. The grateful woman wanted to give her Yankee friends all the money she had, but when they refused she told them to help themselves to the little store of provisions in the carriage.


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THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS OF COMPANY I


This they did, after dark, with alacrity. She told me that German officers had told her she could cross into our lines without danger.


During these strenuous days, when the strength of the Company never ex- ceeded twenty-five rifles, orders came to send two non-coms to Officers' Train- ing School! Sergeant Garey and Sergeant Brinckerhoff both refused this assign- ment, preferring to stay with "the gang" at the front rather than win a com- mission and be transferred to another Regiment. Fortunately two of our wounded, Sergeant Clayton and Corporal Cutler, came back from hospital in time to get the school appointments, being turned back on their way up to the front from Division. Brinckerhoff was badly wounded early on the morning of the 15th by a shell which landed in our road, killing Demetriou and wounding Moore and Gazaille.


We buried Demetriou that night in the field back of the position, and marked the grave with a cross made of a cover of a cracker box, on which Lieutenant Leland wrote in lead pencil :


PVT. PLATO H. DEMETRIOU Co. I, 107th U.S. Inf.


On the night of October 16, Company I was relieved again by a platoon from the 119th Infantry and moved back through Busigny to a suburb called La Vert Donjon. This place was full of Australian artillery, six-inch howitzers. and other heavies that were working overtime and drawing a lot of counter- battery fire from the Boche.


We got out of this without loss, being more fortunate than our neighbors of Company K.


The 54th Infantry Brigade assaulted and took the town of St. Souplet and the strongly defended heights on the Selle River on the morning of the 17th of October. The 107th was in support and followed the 108th through the town, taking over a line 1,500 yards east of the river that night. Company I and the rest of the 3rd Battalion crossed the Selle on a foot-bridge about noon and occupied another sunken road above the railroad station. Here they were badly shelled with gas and wore masks nearly all night. At 3:30 on the morning of the 18th they were ordered to form again. The 3rd Battalion in support of the 2nd, was to step off from Bandival Farm at daybreak. Moving up in the dark, the Company took position, and, when our barrage started, moved out through the counter-barrage without losing a man, and soon found that it was again in the front wave.


The mist and smoke, mingled, hid us from the enemy and our line swept over the Cateau-Arbre Guernon Road, with all its trees, and into the Boche trenches beyond. Here was good fighting and good off-shoulder shooting, for the Huns were hardly out of their dugouts before our men were upon them. They went down in heaps and surrendered in bunches. Their machine gunners as usual were shot around their guns. Company I took more than twice the company strength in prisoners, but as only one private could be spared to take them back, some officer took possession and we were never credited.


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Four skeleton squads at Vaux-Andigny, October 11-16, 1918


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THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS OF COMPANY I


By this time we had a few casualties, but none killed; and steering by com- pass, the thin skirmish line of the Company trotted on another thousand yards in the mist, through an orchard, over a sunken road, and up the crest of a ridge. Here the barrage stopped and the smoke began to lift. Out of a cloud to our left came a crowd of Heinies, looking like a counter-attack; but Cor- poral Tuthill was on the end with his Lewis gun, and they didn't get far. Most of them stayed on the field.


The Company now found itself on the crest of Jonc de Mer Ridge with fif- teen men and three officers, swept by a hot fire from the hedges to the right and left. They dug in. It was about 7:30 a.m. As there were no signs of our troops on either flank, patrols were sent out. Lieutenant Hawkins, Adjutant of the 2nd Battalion, soon joined us and told us where the rest of the Regiment was located. He also told us that our battalion commander, Captain Bradish, was wounded, Captain Fisk killed, and Captain Tompkins in command. Lieu- tenant Stock, 2nd Battalion Intelligence Officer, and one of his men were both mortally wounded at this time in our line, but only one of our fifteen was hit-Corporal Usher, who went out with a wound in his face. Captain Tompkins ordered us to hold on to our positions and sent up a section of ma- chine guns.


That night it was reported that the Boche were retiring and orders came up to send forward a patrol of "one sergeant and eight men" a thousand yards to the road from Baseul to Mazinghem. If this patrol reported "all clear" the Company was to be brought up to the new position and "dug in." Sergeant Garey, being the only Sergeant present, naturally got this detail, and soon


5 .St.Souplet - La Gare


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The Station, St. Souplet


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started off with his eight men, in the pale moonlight, in the direction of Berlin. In about an hour Mechanic McLaughlin reported back with word that no signs of the enemy had been seen, and Lieutenant Leland promptly brought up the other seven members of the Company!


Along this road the 3rd Battalion spent the rest of the night digging in, and had just finished and dropped down in their tracks, when orders came up to advance at daylight five hundred yards to the military crest of the St. Maurice River.


Every man-jack was three-quarters dead for sleep, but after a superhuman effort the Company was aroused, gotten on its feet, and started off again across the fields, where another line of shell holes afforded a little protection from the machine guns but none at all from the H.E.'s and the cold rains which soon set in and continued until the night of the 21st, when we were relieved by the British.


Back through the mud we splashed to St. Souplet, where our good old kitchen outfit was waiting with hot food and drink, and where a warm barn with straw to sleep on seemed like a suite de luxe at the Ritz.


The next morning we started back again through Busigny, Monthrehain, and Bellicourt by easy stages. At Tincourt-Hamel we entrained and after a cold ride in our side-door Pullmans, found ourselves in Villers-Bretonneux, a famous spot chosen for its superior beauty as a rest area for the 27th Division. Hardly a wall was standing, or a roof on anything, as far as the eye could see; but there were some cellars and remains of houses, so the boys soon made them- selves comfortable and were settling down for the night, when orders came to


St Souple La Place


The "Place," St. Souplet


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THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS OF COMPANY I


Captain Claude G. Leland Commanding Company I, September 30, 1918, to April 2, 1919


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move on to Glisy, a little village four miles east of Amiens. This hamlet was a grand sight for our war-worn eyes, as it had escaped unscathed from shell fire. Here our fighting days ended. The signing of the Armistice was cele- brated in Glisy and Amiens, and then began the eternal query, "When do we go home?"-and rumor had a new answer every day. We were all booked up for the Rhine, and then the trip was called off, and we settled down for the winter. Many leaves were granted.


The months of waiting were not without hardship, as the men were often quartered in wretched places. Fuel was scarce and expensive. Sickness increased.


Early in November, Lieutenant Leland received his commission as Captain, and Lieutenant John F. Greaney and Lieutenant Willard R. Smith were assigned to the Company.


About Thanksgiving time the Regiment moved south into the embarkation area near Le Mans. Company I was billeted on the farm of the Chateau de Courvelain in the village of La Chapelle-St. Remy, and remained there until the never-to-be-forgotten day when, after many false starts, we left for Brest.


The last day of February, Company I and the rest of the 3rd Battalion left France on the Nieuw Amsterdam-and our big adventure was over.


There are many post-Armistice events which it would be interesting to record, but the story of our strenuous days has taken precedence-and always will.


Of the 220 men and 6 officers who went overseas with Company I, 64 were killed in action or died of wounds, 93 were entitled to wear wound chevrons, 9 received the Distinguished Service Cross, and, at present writing, 101 have been cited for conspicuous gallantry by the 27th Division.


CHRISTMAS AT LA CHAPELLE, 1918


"Vive les soldats Americains!" cried the little kids beside the road. Some waved small tri-colored flags, but most of them were simply wide-eyed with curiosity and wonder, and the littlest ones hid behind their mothers' skirts- in terror.


Ten years ago! Perhaps it was. It seems more like an old far-off movie that you saw once,-than anything else.


A brown column of troops followed two mounted officers slowly through a wooded countryside in France one cold and rainy morning about two weeks after the Armistice. It was really beautiful country but no one in that outfit was noticing the scenery. The four companies of the 3rd Battalion had been routed out at dawn after a night in the "hommy" cars and started off on a four-mile hike without breakfast. It was raining gently. Little streams ran off the tin hats and usually went down the back of your neck or right through the old poncho. Even the company "Pollyana" was silent. He hadn't a jibe left. But the chronic growlers were soon heard from.


"Who said the war was over?" and "When do we eat?" wails arose occa- sionally in spite of all the file-closers could do.


As they plugged along, however, and got the kinks out of their legs, the blood began to circulate a bit,-and gradually this particular unit of the


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A.E.F. commenced to warm up. They could not be downhearted long although they were wet and hungry and their packs like lead. Why? Because every man of them firmly believed that they were on their way to the big ships and that we should all be home for Christmas!


After a couple of hours on the hard French road, the Battalion climbed a hill and entered the hamlet of La Chapelle-St. Remy, where it was due to be billeted. Clustered around the usual "place" and church were typical town dwellings and a few stores. Farmhouses and barns were strung along the high- way. A big white chateau stood at one end in a park of old trees,-a glorious place. It was as sweet and clean a little village as there was in all Europe.


Four miles from the railroad, buried in the Department of the Sarthe, La Chapelle had not been violently disturbed by the storms of war,-save in the agonizing moments of sending all her young men and the middle-aged to fight for France. None of the inhabitants had ever seen an American soldier so no wonder the children hid behind their mothers. They expected to see feathers in our hair !


There was a crowd of old men, women and children waiting to welcome us, in front of the Mairie, or Town Hall, and as we formed up beside the road they gave us a cheer. The Mayor's secretary, M. Robin, made a speech of wel- come in French. The acting Major responded in American, and no harm was done. Then the officers and officials shook hands all around, the troops cheered the old Mayor in his wooden shoes and more particularly the pretty school- mistress,-and most cordial relations were at once established.


Here follows the proclamation of the Mayor which was translated and read at retreat formation.


"The population is hereby informed that 400 American soldiers, with their officers and 40 horses, will arrive Tuesday the 26th at La Chapelle-St. Remy and remain here some time in cantonement.


"I ask you to give a hearty welcome to these American officers and soldiers for they have fought valiantly against our enemies. Thanks to their heroism, to their courage and their tenacity, we were able to check the German advance and to turn them back, which was the direct cause of the demand for an armis- tice on the part of our enemies.


"Furthermore, let us receive our allies, the Americans, with open arms, as if they were our children or our brothers."


So we settled down in this friendly village to wait for orders to entrain for Brest. Every day a new rumor came along-but no orders.


Thanksgiving came and went with an extra good dinner-but no orders.


Now our wounded began to come back to us from the hospitals up north, sent to their original units "for return to the U.S."-so they said. Everything looked "bully." Even drill was snappy. No one reported at sick call for fear of being left behind. But still no orders-only rumors, "the Colonel's dog robber (orderly) told M Company's mess sergeant that he personally overheard the General tell the Colonel, etc."


The days rolled into weeks. The weeks piled up and soon came the sad realization that we could not possibly get home by Christmas because there was


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not a transport fast enough to make it. Then, oh then, the morale took a fear- some slump! No more pep in drill now. Colds and minor ailments became epi- demic. Dispositions once sunny were completely wrecked. Fights, big and little, broke out in the cold barn barracks. Complaints of all kinds were aired. Won- derful days these for company commanders responsible for discipline!


In the meantime, of course, at La Chapelle as elsewhere, the great alliance between the "soldat Americain" and the French children became closer and closer. By virtue of this intimacy "Corned Willie and Beans" were introduced into many a French ménage for the first time. Each company had a crowd of supporters among the juvenile population.


One day shortly before Christmas there was unusual news in town, much ani- mated talk and gesture. A few La Chapelle poilus, it seems, had been discharged and would return home at once. The village turned out en masse to meet them as they came hiking up the road from Connerre. Among these men was the father of our little friends Simone and Madeline, two shy mice of seven and nine, who came with their grandmere Madame Joubert to clean the rooms in the chateau occupied by several American officers-and to be made much of by said officers. What a Christmas these little girls were going to have with their brown-bearded father in his old sky-blue coat, home again after five wounds and months in a German prison camp! That was present enough for one Christ- mas, wasn't it?


The day after his return "father" was out behind an old one-horse plow turning over a field behind the chateau. He never rested on his laurels for a minute. And there was a perfectly natural display of what is known as the spirit of France.


Finally something had to be done about this Christmas business. So after various officers' meetings, it was decided to have individual company dinners and celebrations. There would be no lack of anything our money could buy, but the trouble was to find the food. Turkeys were absolutely out of the question in our sector. Company I finally decided on a whole pig roasted by native experts. An entertainment committee managed to arouse considerable interest among some of the artists, musical and otherwise,-but the really big event was sug- gested, I think, by the Chaplain and met with an enthusiastic response from the start. The idea was-to forget our own disappointment and give the children of La Chapelle a real American Christmas-with a tree and all the fixings. These boys and girls had never seen a Christmas tree, nor hung their stockings by the fireplace, nor heard of Santa Claus and his reindeer. Their custom was, I believe, to put their wooden shoes on the hearth Christmas eve and hope that the Christ-Child would bring them a present during the night. But for four long years there had been few Christmas presents for the children except the bare necessities.


Every officer was taxed and the men contributed what they could out of their $30 a month minus home allotments, liberty bond payments and charges for lost equipment. Did you ever ask a private soldier how much he had at his disposal for luxuries at the end of the month during the late war? Try it some time.


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THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS OF COMPANY I


The local stores had very little to offer in the way of toys, so the Chaplain was sent to the city of Le Mans to see what he could find. Packs and officers' trunks were ransacked and many keepsakes turned into gifts. We had accurate figures on the number of children who could come from the school mistress herself, Madamoiselle Marthe. She said no child in the village would be absent and she was right. There must be something for each one.


The committee on getting a tree had much the hardest time. They do not cut down trees of any kind in France short of a revolution or civil war. Finally our good friend M. Robin helped us and one was found at the last minute- but it took a large slice of the fund.


A few days before Christmas the invitation was placarded at the Mairie, stating that on the morning of the 25th the American soldiers billeted in town would entertain the children under twelve at a Christmas party in the school- house.


It was one of the most perfect Christmas mornings as to weather any of us had ever seen. Nothing to surpass it was ever pictured on the Prince of Wales' holiday cards.


"Wake up and look outdoors!" yelled the first man out of the blankets in the fireless chateau. We sat up and looked out on the prettiest kind of a snow storm, gentle, large-flaked and Christmasy. It covered every branch and bough with soft cotton wool,-and spread a carpet of ermine on lawn and road and field.


At ten o'clock the crowd around the schoolhouse door waiting for admission was dense. Shortly after the Major and all his officers appeared in their Sunday best,-and the doors were opened. And this is what the children saw: one end of the room completely filled with Christmas tree from floor to ceiling, -- and such a tree! It was loaded with all the trinkets imaginable, all the gew-gaws and strings of pop-corn and sparklers and-well, no one ever figured out just how the Chaplain did it.


The most interesting sight, however, was not the tree-oh no !- it was the audience. You know- how well-mannered French children are ;- well, there wasn't a sound from them-not a murmur, they were massed with their mothers along one side of the room, all spellbound but happy.


It was rather disconcerting at first. We naturally looked for cheers and yells of approval in the manner of American youngsters. We didn't know ex- actly what to do with them. Fortunately there was music to begin with,-some hymns and carols by a splendid doughboy choir accompanied by the only piano in town, -- Mademoiselle Marthe's. Soon they swung over into something lively, some soldier songs,-and then after we all sang the "Marseillaise"-the ice was completely broken.


The official interpreter next announced that Saint Nicholas himself would take charge of the party and distribute gifts to all the good girls and boys present. The part of Santa had been assigned to a company commander who had chil- dren of his own back in New York and was supposed to be more or less fa- miliar with this line of work. A fur coat was borrowed from one of the more affluent officers, a red woolen cap, and perfectly wonderful whiskers and wig


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manufactured out of cotton loaned by the Medical Corps. He looked a very presentable Santa Claus as he burst into the room, and with bells jingling, put all his French phrases to work. As a matter of fact he nearly scared the life out of the tots and it took some coaxing to get them to even look at the old scarecrow. Then he began to strip the tree of its glories and gave each kid a box of candy and a toy or two. They warmed up to it shortly and Santa had soon to mind his eye lest some of the "repeaters" received more than their share. He took special pains to see that the shyest and most timid little tots got the best presents much to the disgust of some of the older boys.


Well, it was a grand party. Something to remember forever. Those youngsters are ten years older now but I don't believe they have forgotten. When the pres- ents were all given out Santa led a snake dance of children around the tree, and it was high noon before the hilarity ceased and Saint Nick was let out of the fur coat,-a wet and weary, but contented warrior.


So this was the way the 3rd Battalion managed to forget its disappoint- ment and its homesickness for a time-at La Chapelle, Christmas Day, 1918. -C. G. L.


PERCY HALL


It is hard for me to write about Percy Hall, the Soldier, for we were in the Regiment together over ten years and were brother officers at Camp Wadsworth, Spartanburg. I never saw Percy in action. When he was in the real thing in France, I was in service at home, cursing the luck of a pair of crocked ears. About Percy Hall, the Man, I can write, and do, with mixed emotions; joy over a friendship that started slowly but became a very big thing to me; sor- row that a life full of sweetness and promise should have been snuffed out so untimely.


Our first few years in Company I brought us together to some extent, but mostly with other members of a gang composed of Al Milligan, George Nichols, Al Leoning, Marshall Peabody, Howard Grose, Charlie Brewer and a lot of others. Percy was a pretty keen lawn tennis player and spent much of his spare time on the courts. He was always in good humor, took part in the social life of the Company and was a general favorite.


In those days it was doubtful if Percy was serious about the military side. He took it as part of the game, not the game itself, and worked at it just about hard enough to get by. He ran for a non-com job because his best friends in the Company were doing the same. After he went in for promotion he worked more on the "Book." He liked to do well anything he set out to do. He had a quick mind and splendid poise. I doubt if anyone ever saw Percy rattled.


With the men he had the rare gift of never pushing them, yet always getting things done. Easy going yet efficient. Never effusive, in fact rather reticent he would come out with a sparkling bit of dry humor which was irresistible and which eased many an awkward moment.


At the Border and at Spartanburg Percy and I found ourselves members of the "Faculty." At Texas he was Top Kick and I was Second Sergeant. At


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First Lieutenant Percy M. Hall, D.S.C. Commanding Company I, September 29, 1918


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Wadsworth he was a First Lieutenant and I was a shavetail. During those years we came very close together both on and off duty. We shared a tent at Wadsworth and, more important, we shared each others' thoughts and prob- lems. No man seemed more full of the joy of living and the fellowship of con- genial spirits; but at times he had heavy troubles which were never seen by others. The exterior was a smiling, joking Percy. There were always a lot of visitors at our tent, drawn by his charm and personality. Perhaps his chief admirer was Jerry Stanton, that "Beloved Vagabond"; himself one of the most interesting characters ever enlisted in the Ninth Company-and what a Mess Sergeant !




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