Racine county in the world war, Part 33

Author: Haight, Walter L
Publication date: c1920]
Publisher: [Racine, Western Prtg. & Lithographing Co.
Number of Pages: 612

USA > Wisconsin > Racine County > Racine county in the world war > Part 33

Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).

The cannon they roar,

I don't want to go to the trenches no more. Take me over the sea

Where the Huns can't get after me,

Oh my, I'm too young to die, I want to go home.

And after the armistice was declared and he saw boatload after boatload of non-combatants going across the Atlantic while he rolled his pup-tent for the march to the Rhine, he ad- dressed the following sarcastic parody to his girl in the States and, through her, to the Commander-in-Chief and all others in author- ity:

Darling, I am coming back-silver threads among the black-

Now that peace in Europe nears I'll be home in seven years. I'll drop in on you some night, with my whisk- ers long and white,

Home again with you once more-say by nine- teen twenty four.

Once I thought by now I'd be sailing back across the sea,

Back to where you sit and pine-but I'm head- ing for the Rhine.

You can hear the M. P.'s curse: "War is hell, but Peace is worse."

When the next war conies-oh, well-I'll rush in, I will like hell.

Almost every division and branch of the service had some rollicking song which was especially popular in its own realms. For in- stance, Wisconsin men were inclined to use that excellent university football song, "On, Wisconsin," both for a marching tune and for band exercise. In this connection it is recalled that when General Parker, first commander of

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the Thirty-second division, heard the 121st regiment band playing the selection, he took it for granted that it was an original produc- tion of the band leader, David Routt, and turn- ing to his adjutant, said:

"Major, that is a fine sounding piece. Make a note that it is my order that that be the of- ficial divisional march, to be used at all re- views and concerts as such. Have that band leader name it 'Thirty-second Division March' and file a copy with you."

Which would indicate that Gen. Parker was not very familiar with well known musical se- lections of the day. As the division was com- posed of part Michigan and part Wisconsin men, the order resulted in a protest from some Michiganders, and the adjutant tactfully dis- regarded his orders. Probably Gen. Parker never knew the difference.

All artillery adopted the "Artillery Song" written for a Michigan regiment some years before. It was a catchy air, with appropriate words, and many a night hike was enlivened by the words, from thousands of throats, of the familiar:

Over hill, over dale, as we hit the dusty trail, And the caissons go rolling along.

Then there were songs written by local com- posers which gained fame in certain sections. Such a one was:

WHAT'S THE USE.

First we line up, company front, From the tall boy to the runt, Then we dress up with a grunt, Eyes to Right. The Corporals with their nods, Try to straighten up their squads

But the Lieutenant says "ye Gods, What a Sight!" He gives a sharp command,

And we think we're marching grand. Then he says "You'll all get canned, Get some pep." He orders "Left Oblique" In a voice that is not weak. "What's the matter, Private Peate ? You're out of Step." When he orders "Double Quick." The fellows all look sick, 'Cause we know he's going to kick, "That was Rotten." We are almost moved to tears, But we stand his jibes and jeers When he says-"Hey, are your ears Filled up with cotton ?" Hold your heads up in the air, Straighten up; or don't you care, You'll have to "Over There." Says the "Lieut."

"In France they're much more strict, If you don't care to get kicked, Watch your step or you'll be picked As a galloot." As he shouts in accents stern The Lieutenant seems to yearn, For a company that could learn Without abuse. So we drill and drill and drill, Do every movement on the bill, But it seems we're rookies still, So what's the use.

The "fighting units" in France had a ron- delay which enlivened many a session in cafe and wayside inn. It told ironically of the various claims upon fame made by various branches of the service, and amateur singers had no difficulty in adding to the verses inter- minably to attend to good-natured grudges against individuals and regiments. The origi- nal version started off thus:

HINKEY-DINKEY PARLEZ-VOUS.

The Cavalry say they won the war, parlez-vous. The Cavalry said they did it all,

Shooting craps in an empty stall, Hinkey- Dinkey parlez-vous.

The Tank Corps say they won the war, parlez- vous.

The Tank Corps boys, they fought très bon Against M.P.'s around Dijon.

The Medics say they won the war, parlez-vous. The Medics say they saved the line, With C. C. pills and iodine.

The Signal Corps say they won the war, par- lez-vous.

And all they did in the Signal Corps,

Was play blackjack on the office floor.

The Q. M. say they won the war, parlez-vous, It was fini this and beaucoup that, And a number ten for a number quatre.

The M. P.'s say they won the war, parlez-vous. The M. P.'s say they won the war, Standing guard at a café door.

The C. O. says he won the war, parlez-vous. The C. O. wants the Croix de Guerre, For sitting around in his Morris chair. Hinkey-Dinkey, parlez-vous.

Still another parody which gained much popularity was one giving voice to the disap- pointment of those men who had enlisted to slay Germans but had wound up in some school, office or home camp for permanent duty. There were as many different versions of this "service flag" song as there were men bewailing their fate, following transfers and assignments to disagreeahle duties, Here are two typical examples of the varied sentiments expressed to the music of "Mother, take Down your Service Flag:"

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Photos by Billings-Leonard Malme

Top Row-John A. Dresen, H. M. Wallis Jr., F. W. Peil, C. I. Hansen, Victor Holm, Russell Thomas. Second- Andrew Feddersen, Mark H. Martin, Jack R. Melvin, Harrison E. Fellows, John Cullen, Clarence Flanagan. Third-Donald J. Morey, John D. Roberts, Julius Feiges, Newell E. French, Dr. C. O. Schaefer, F. D. Gebhardt. Fourth-John C. Bayer, Dale Mccutcheon, E. L. Mutchler, Thos. J. Berg, Jacob Adams, C. H. Landerslager. Bottom-Albert Milner, Wilfred Haumerson, Nels Feddersen, Alfred Feddersen, E. F. Gotsche, Grover MeNitt.

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(Tours Version)

Mother, take down your service flag, Your son's in the S. O. S. He's S. O. L., but what the hell, He never suffered less. He may be thin, but that's from gin Or else I miss my guess, So mother, take down your service flag, Your son's in the S. O. S.

(Air Service Version)

Mother, put out your golden star, Your son's goin' up in a Sop; The wings are weak, the ship's a freak, She's got a rickety prop. The motor's junk, the pilot's drunk, He's sure to take a flop- Oh, mother, put out your golden star Your son's goin' up in a Sop.

Another song which helped to enliven a march occasionally, was:

Uncle Sammy, he needs the infantry, He needs the cavalry, he needs artillery, Then, By ---- , we'll all go to Germany! Poor old Kaiser Bill!

Despite his habit of making light of serious matters, the American soldier was not slow to recognize real beauty in the fields of music and poetry. There was hardly a Yank in France who did not have somewhere about his person a copy of the beautiful poem, "In Flanders Fields," written by Lieut .- Col. John D. McCrae of Montreal shortly before his death near Ypres :

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly, Scarce heard amidst the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe! To you from falling hands we throw The torch. Be yours to hold it high! If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

So, too, he appreciated the "Reply of Ameri- ca," and in hundreds of straggling pup-tents and dugouts, the words were read and recited, and their sentiment endorsed with low-spoken words of approval:

Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead. The fight that ye so bravely led We've taken up. And we will keep True faith with you who lie asleep With each a cross to mark his bed, And poppies blowing overhead Where once his own life blood ran red. So let your rest be sweet and deep In Flanders fields.

Fear not that ye have died for naught. The torch ye threw to us we caught. Ten million hands will hold it high And Freedom's light shall never die. We've learned the lesson that ye taught, In Flanders fields.

When the first contingents of American troops went to France they were informed through the Parisian newspapers that General Pershing upon his arrival overseas had been escorted to the tomb of Marquis de LaFayette. He had brought a wreath with him and (so the story went) as he laid it at the foot of the monument, he rendered a salute and declared, impressively,

"LaFayette, we have come."

It later developed that Gen. Pershing said nothing of the sort, but it is true that two years later a homesick Yankee soldier, stand- ing in the same place, recalled the alleged ut- terance by drawing himself erect, saluting, and muttering:

"LaFayette, we are still over here, damn the luck!"

Another profane but universally endorsed bit of repartee along the same lines comes to mind. During the war a part of our propa- ganda had to do with the alleged debt we owed to the French people for the part the old mon- archy played in defeating the British in our Revolutionary war. Whenever anyone ques- tioned the merits of any new bit of charity toward the French people, they were always sternly reminded of this "debt." Of course no mention was made of the difficulties thrown in the way of the above-mentioned LaFayette when he first proposed coming to America to help the struggling republic in its fight for freedom. The phrase was used so generally that it got on the nerves of some of the boys over in France, who after the war were finding their relations with the French somewhat strained, for various reasons. One of them who had been in France for two years, and had suffered from cooties, wounds, shortage of food, and similar discomforts, and then had been left there after the armistice to help sell the property of the army to the natives at very low prices, reared up one day when his request for a transfer to a homeward bound unit was denied, and asked in loud tones:

"Say, what in hell else do we owe France, anyway ?"

And the startled lieutenant who heard it agreed fervently that the debt seemed to have

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TYPE OF VEHICLE USED BY THE 127th AMBULANCE COMPANY IN FRANCE

The motor driven ambulances saved thousands of lives by getting men where they could have care within a short time after they were injured. Maj. W. W. Johnston tells of the wonderful work of the Racine organization at the battle fronts when no other ambulance unit would take a chance in pushing up to the rapidly advancing front and hauling the serious cases from agony and exposure to hospital care and attention.

been cleared, unless some new items had been entered on the books recently.

In spite of their opinion, however, it was many months after the close of the war when the last of the numerous appeals for a few millions of dollars for this or that French fund was answered as a part payment on the famous debt.

Investigation has shown that almost every famous utterance credited to American officers in the recent war were figments of the imag- ination, originating in the minds of corre- spondents far from the scene. Nevertheless, they probably will live in future histories.

Death-bed sentiments of soldiers were gen- erally limited to requests for a drink of water, or some other creature comfort. Men occa- sionally murmured, in their delirium, the names of relatives near and dear to them, or imagined themselves in other and happier circumstances, but physicians at two large field hospitals, and at three base hospitals, were inclined to disbelieve utterly the accepted stories of dying men discussing affairs of state in oratorical phrases, or giving expression to carefully worded sentiments suitable for framing in pa- triotic households. This does not mean that American soldiers did not possess these senti-

ments, hut merely that men dying from wounds have other matters to occupy their attention if their minds remain clear as the end ap- proaches. Nature's sweet mantle of sleep gen- erally brings peace and quiet to the dying for many hours before death actually occurs, and few dying men realize that they are doomed.

It may be of some comfort to those who lost relatives in battle to know that deaths on the battlefield or the receiving of wounds from bul- lets and shells are not painful. The writer has seen dozens of men wounded, and was se- verely wounded himself, and in all instances there was every evidence that the injury came as a great surprise. Before the victim realized what had happened the shock of the accident had passed and there was very little pain felt from that time until the hour, often days af- terward, when the first dressings were changed in a hospital far to the rear of the lines. In cases of very serious wounds, this process usually was carried out while the patient was under an anaesthetic.

When a soldier is struck by a missile, his first involuntary movement is to throw his arm up in front of his face as a protection. Sometimes he is rendered unconscious before the movement is completed and the inertia

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of the swiftly moving limb carries it up above the head. From this arises the commonly ac- cepted view that men who are shot throw both hands above their head, leap in the air and fall backwards. The direction in which they fall depends almost entirely upon the direction from which the missile came, if it has much striking force. In cases where a bullet makes a clean wound through the body without "mush- rooming" or striking solid bone, the injured person's knees usually weaken instantly and the man crumples down as though he were fainting-which, in fact, is usually the case. If he is struck in one arm, the effect of the impact may be such as to turn him part way around. Whether the blow itself causes him to fall, training and instinct cause a man to get down on the ground for protection against other fly- ing metal.

The most painful part of a new wound is on the surface, where the sensitory nerves are numerous and exposed. The cutting of even the largest nerves occurs so suddenly that the feeling is not unlike a sudden electric shock which is all over before the victim realizes what happened.

Almost every wounded man experiences a feeling of profound helplessness after his injury. His great desire is to get out of the

vicinity of the accident, even though he knows that it may be safer thereafter than some other refuge. Dozens of wounded men have declared that their most terrible moments were the ones which passed between the in- stant they were wounded and the time when they reached a first aid station. Being disabled, they could not avoid the feeling that they were unable to protect themselves, although even a well person can hardly ward off steel bullets or iron shell fragments. The ride to the rear is an occasion of much comfort to one unable to move about by himself, and the sight of a field hospital arouses feelings akin to those inspired when the desert traveler sees a dis- tant oasis.

The word of a regimental surgeon who dress- es many hundreds of wounded doughboys is accepted absolutely by the author, when he declares:

"Of all the men who ever were carried into the first aid station, I have yet to hear of one who took advantage of the occasion to say, 'I am sorry that I have but one life to give for my country,' or anything like that. The ma- jority of them said, 'I don't know just how it happened,' or, 'If that Dutchman had waited just a minute longer I sure would have got him. Darn the luck, anyway.'"

127TH AMB CO'S SILVER BUGLE

CHAPTER XXVII

A RACINE MAN'S EXPERIENCES IN THE ARMY

N "O two men viewed army life in exactly the same way. No two saw previsely the same things. The opinions, experiences and deductions of any soldier may arouse vary- ing emotions of agreement, anger, disapproval or disbelief when related in the presence of another. Nevertheless almost every man in the service went through certain adventures which were about the same as those experi- enced by others. In publishing the following story of one Racine man's life in service, the author believes that every veteran will find many things which will recall to mind amusing and interesting incidents which may have been forgotten, and that is the only purpose in pub- lishing it. It would be manifestly impossible to try to present in print all of the letters and diaries which have been submitted for publi- cation, and which would deserve space were this volume larger than it is.

Some liberties have been taken with the original document. At places, extracts from other diaries have been inserted. Purely per- sonal matters have been omitted. By com- bining several documents it has been possible to give an idea of army life which no single diary would be likely to show. The writer of the article which forms the basis for the chap- ter is a Racine young man who went overseas in September, saw action in the Argonne, and was wounded. He offered his private diary and a number of letters to the author of this work with the proviso that his name be not used.

With this explanation, the story is herewith presented:

On the 27th of July, 1918, I reported to my local board that I was disqualified for class 2 (essential industrial occupation) and would thenceforth qualify in Class 1. I had been employed at a factory in the city, but had come to the conclusion that I might be doing more effective work if I got into the army. There were quite a number of men who had

the same idea about the same time, inspired, perhaps, by the big draft that left Racine on the 26th. On that day 447 men marched to the railway stations and amid one of the most impressive demonstrations ever seen in Ra- cine, entrained for their camps. By this time the draft contingents were moving with con- siderable ease; the confusion that marked the first entrainments having disappeared and the uncertainties among the selectives was more or less dispelled. From the experiences of those who went early the men learned what they needed to carry for their personal com- fort until they were uniformed and outfitted at the camp to which they were sent.

The reply of the board was a notice to ap- pear on Aug. 1 for physical examination and I reported on that day at the rooms of Local board No. 2, out in Washington avenue. Three physicians gave me the double "once-over." One was an eye specialist, one a general physi- cal examiner and a third conferred. I was pronounced fit and I was certified as qualified to go into the draft. That part over with I got ready to answer the call. It came on the 8th and we were ordered to appear at the board rooms on the 9th, ready to move.

With a dozen others I reported about the middle of the morning and we were lined up, tagged and instructed as to the trip and then turned loose for the final good-byes. These were said over again until evening, when we went to the station, boarded a train bound for Chicago and said farewell to old Racine-for how long none of us knew. We rode to the station in automobiles and joined the No. 1 contingent and all boarded the train.

When we arrived at Chicago we joined a train load of draft men from all parts of the northwest for the trip into St. Louis. Our captain, selected from one of our number, marshalled our party into the station at Chi- cago and with a blanket meal-ticket enter- tained the crowd, which had begun to get pret- ty hungry.

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The trainload of recruits seemed to enjoy the party and there was all kinds of fun on the way down, though we rode in day coaches and were cramped for sleeping quarters; as a matter of fact there was little sleeping. At every stop along the route there were crowds at the stations and the boys sprang from the cars to the platforms to sing a little-there being several quartettes-or yell a little- regular recruit's yelling having developed early in the evening. This kept up until late into the night, but finally the boys got tired enough to curl up in the seats and get a little nap. We had breakfast at St. Louis and some of us -myself included-who had worked the board for extra meal tickets, had a real feed in the morning. From the St. Louis Union station we were hauled out to Jefferson Barracks and arrived there before noon.

When we left the train at Jefferson Bar- racks most of the men were ready to turn around and start home again. The heat was insufferable. The water was dirty and warm and not much of a treat for northerners just from home comforts. The tents of the recruits which were pouring in by the thousands stretched as far as the eye could see and all in all it was not a very tempting outlook.

As we left the train we were met by a squad of "receiving men," who lined us up, marched us onto the reservation and alongside a big building, where we were told off into squads and turned over to sergeants who showed us to our quarters, where we waited for our next physical examination and equipment.

With fully a thousand other men I lined up in my "birthday clothes" for what proved to be a real physical examination. The men all bathed and then got their positions for ap- pearing before the long line of physicians who were giving the men a most thorough examina- tion at the rate of 1,000 a day. We were in line at 9 o'clock and I waited in the same cos- tume as mentioned until 5 o'clock that eve- ning, when I was turned out as "fit," plus a shot of typhoid vaccine.

As I walked ont past the last surgeon I was startled and half bowled over by a parcel which struck me in the chest. I found that it was a barrack bag. From that point I ac- quired a new piece of wearing apparel at ev- ery step until I had the whole outfit, and after a day of nakedness was glad to climb into whatever I had-and did. We were, by this time, back to the room where we undressed in the morning and we found our clothes, which we put into the suit cases. Some of the boys shipped them home by express and some sold

them to the old-clothes buyers who swarmed around the room offering small sums for the cast off garments.

The fitting of the uniforms was weird. There was no time for tailored alterations, and a man was lucky if he got the jacket and trousers large enough for him.

One man who had received a pair of trous- ers that came up under his shoulders and a jacket that hit him about the knees, was amb- ling aimlessly around looking himself over when an officer passed. The rooky didn't see him and the officer turned back and startled the poor fellow into consciousness by shouting:

"Here! Why didn't you salute ? Did you see this uniform ?"

The boy looked with a fishy eye at the offi- cer and said:

"Sure I see it, but look at the one that they shoved off on me."

When the day's examinations were over we were taken to eat, and after a day's fast the boys certainly did the meal justice.

From that point the men were taken to their quarters and made themselves as much at home as possible waiting for the notice that they would be shipped out to some training camp.

Within a week we were shipped to Camp MacArthur, Texas, where the weather was a few degrees hotter and the water a little less appetizing, and we started in for what looked like the training spell. At MacArthur we were separated into detention companies and kept in quarantine for two weeks. Our quarters were tents with floors and open sides. The weeds had shot up through the floors and grown around the sides, completely shutting them in. We lived there two weeks and then started in our daily drills and the regular course of training. The men were all very anxious to get down town to Waco and when the time for release came all had made plans for the excursion. Hopes were dashed, how- ever, when the commanding officer on Saturday night detailed all our squad on k.p. for the next day and they were kept busy in camp.

I had the usual experiences of a recruit. After being put into a provisional infantry company, I spent every morning from 7:30 to noon in learning the rudiments of drill and discovering that it was not the easiest thing in the world to get eight men to execute "squads right" according to the manual. Eventually we all got so we could do this, and "face to the right in marching" without falling over our own feet or stepping on some one else's.

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MANY RACINE FAMILIES HAD SEVERAL MEMBERS IN SERVICE

At the top, left, are Lt. and Mrs. Ed. Millstead; at the right Lt. and Mrs. Arthur Naleid; at left of second row are Evald, Charlotte and Edmund Strand and at right Arthur Nels and Ilarry Peter Johnson and their sister. Lower, left, are Oscar, Einer and Arnold Fischer and at right A. C. Mickelson, who served in the Home Guard, and his son Roland, who was in the National Army.

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Racine county in the world war, Part 33

Author: Haight, Walter L Publication date: c1920] Publisher: [Racine, Western Prtg. & Lithographing Co. Number of Pages: 612

Author: Haight, Walter L
Publication date: c1920]
Publisher: [Racine, Western Prtg. & Lithographing Co.
Number of Pages: 612