“After the scrap ’round Seicheprey we didn’t _encore_ the battle much
except when the Battle of Boucq started. That was one hell of a curious
battle. The Boches got mad and began heavin’ shells ’way back in the
rears. Boucq wasn’t too far away to be in it.
“That’s where all our headquarters was located—regimental, brigade,
division, and the whole damn shootin’-match. At that time Mudgy Jones,
also known as Chisel-Face or Whistlin’ Jaws, was colonel of our
regiment. Let me tell you right now our regiment had a hell of a time
gettin’ where it was, handicapped as we were with that man as a C. O.
All he could do was walk ’round whistlin’ somethin’ that didn’t have no
tune at all and find fault. Well, just to show you what kind of a gink
Mudgy was, when the stuff started comin’ and breakin’ near regimental P.
C. he dives down into a cellar and loses himself. The general comes over
to give him hell ’bout somethin’, and he couldn’t be found. Finally some
guy bribed Jones’ orderly to tell where he was. Mudgy didn’t pull any
whistle stuff when the old gen. hauled him up.
“The battle of Boucq lasted ’bout four days, durin’ which the One
Hundred and Fourth Infantry—hardest bunch of doughboys in this man’s
army—got lined up on a hill by some French general and handed the Craw
de Guerre for the whole damn outfit. Only outfit in the A. E. F. that
can wear that thing as a regiment, too.
“We had a gang fight down ’round Xivray that lasted a day or so and made
us lose quite a number of the fellows. Then we got pulled out of the
Toul lines and loaded on another bunch of foolish-lookin’ trains. When
we was loadin’—that was ’bout the last day of June or nearbouts—they
handed out some wild rumor stuff ’bout us goin’ to parade in Paree on
the Fourth. All the _soldats_ believed it and a hell of a lot of second
looeys—even the C. O. By the way, Davis that was with us at Seicheprey
had been made a captain and put in charge of our outfit.
“The train started toward Paree and made ’bout three hundred kilos in
that direction. All along the tracks and in the big towns we passed
through there was gangs of girls and school-kids shoutin’ at us.
Throwin’ kisses and askin’ for _bisqués_—them’s biscuits in _anglay_. We
fired all the hardtack we had to ’em, as usual.
“That was the time we learned how to call ourselves in _fransay_. I kept
hearin’ the French kids sayin’ somethin’ that sounded like ‘_Van
Seezeum_’ and wondered what the hell it meant. A French Canuck up and
says, ‘That’s the way they say Twenty-sixth in Frog.’ They was glad, he
says, because the old _Van Seezeum_ was on its way. Then I began gettin’
it. The kids knew who we was somehow. Some of ’em hollered, ‘_Caput_
Boches at Seicheprey.’ Gosh! there must have been somethin’ in the
papers ’bout us, the way they was talkin’ it off.
“Right when we got close enough to smell Paree—and Otto Page began
swearin’ that he could see the Eiffel Tower—the trains got switched off
to the right and started hell bent for election toward Château-Thierry.
Noisy-le-Sec was where we got switched off, and that’s where the cussin’
started and it lasted until we got in the old _guerre_ again up ’round
Saacy and Citry.
“Damn, but we was sore—been thinkin’ ’bout that promised rest and
paradin’ up and down Paree, you know, and we felt that they was rubbin’
it in, that’s all. They just hated to think that some guy was rubbin’ it
in. We was National Guard Boy Scouts, some of ’em called us before the
_guerre_. But they can take their funny names plumb to hell to-day. Like
to know where this man’s army would be if it wasn’t for the National
Guard.
“Jerked us out of sleep ’bout midnight and unloaded the works at a joint
called La Ferté—hiked thirteen kilofloppers to a town that I couldn’t
call out loud if I wanted to. Have to think it when I want to remember
anythin’ ’bout the place. They put us up in a big park. Spent the Fourth
there. The villagers hung out _beaucoup_ flags, but I couldn’t recognize
’em, though a Frenchman pointed to some and said, ‘_Américain_.’ Had a
party on the Fourth. _Beaucoup van rouge._ Some old champagne—and a
_poulet_. Forgot to tell you ’bout _poulets_—they’re chickens—the eatin’
kind, you _savvy_?
“Next day we got orders to haul it up to the front or pretty near it. We
blew into a big _château_ grounds ’round early mornin’—everybody was so
darn tired they _cushayed_ right off the bat without camouflaging the
stuff. A nuisance by name of Boots Jenkins, who had been made a second
looey when even corporals was hard to get, was the Officer of the Day.
He didn’t come to until broad daylight and a bunch of Boche planes got
hummin’ overhead. Boots tried to turn out the guard—and found out that
he had forgot to put a guard on at all. ‘Some guy he was.’ Then he
started wakin’ everybody up. ‘Get up, every mother’s son of you, move
this picket-line and camouflage the wagons. Come on, shake it up,’ and
he pulled the blankets off George Woods. ‘Git the hell out o’ here—I’m
_cushayin’_,’ bawled Woods. ‘Don’t give a damn, get up,’ commanded
Jenkins. ‘Ah, take a flop for yourself, I don’t belong to your gang. I’m
a naval gunner on special duty.’ That’s what Boots got on every side.
“After a long time he got the stable sergeant—some draggin’ kitchen
police and old Bill Conway—wonderful crew for a detail. They moved every
damn _cheval_ we had and threw bushes over the guns and wagons. The rest
of us had dragged our blankets and stuff up to the top of a hill and
_cushayed_ right on.
“The outfits hid in that big woods until it got time for us to cross the
Marne and relieve the Second Division. This happened ’bout July eleventh
or so. We was all set for any trick that the Boches might be willin’ to
try.
“There had been _beaucoup_ bull flyin’ ’round that Germany was makin’ a
last big drive for old Paree and most likely they’d try to cut through
us ’round the Château-Thierry sector—that stuff was pretty well soaked
into us and guess the gang wanted to show the marines that two weeks in
Belleau Woods wasn’t such big stuff after all, considerin’ the way they
jumped into the battlin’ when it started. Course I ain’t disputin’ that
the marines didn’t pull off good stunts down there. But you got to
remember we’d been in the lines damn near six months when the noise
started at Château-Thierry.”