ARMISTICE DAY--GORZ
Meanwhile our entire front was advancing, following the barrage waves.
No more desperate struggle than ours could have been found at any point.
Writing of that day, the official A. E. F. newspaper, "Stars and
Stripes," under date of November 15th, declared:
"Attack Before Vigneulles
"Probably the hardest fighting being done by any Americans in
the final hour was that which engaged the troops of the 28th,
92nd, 81st, and 7th Divisions with the Second American Army,
who launched a fire-eating attack above Vigneulles just at dawn
on the 11th. It was no mild thing, that last flare of the
battle, and the order to cease firing did not reach the men in
the front line until the last moment, when runners sped with it
from fox hole to fox hole."
I hurried along the line deeply pondering the startling report of the
good Colonel. We had been hearing various rumors that the enemy was
frantically suing for peace; all these we had set down as but
propaganda. If the end were in sight, why this terrific eleventh hour
barrage?
The only reason I could imagine was, that its very frightfulness might
so deeply impress the resisting troops themselves as to utterly destroy
their morale. Once the soldiers themselves realized the weakness of the
tottering dynasty behind them, and the overwhelming force of the army in
front of them, total failure of their cause must be apparent.
Supreme was my confidence in Foch and Pershing, and I felt that the
course they were pursuing would prove, from the military point of view,
the best.
At five minutes to eleven I walked a little apart, up the trail, and
began saying my Rosary Beads. They were always companion and comfort to
my trying hours. Fervently I implored her, who is "Mightier than an army
in battle array," to intercede for us to her Divine Son. That, it were
pleasing and good in _His_ holy sight, this hour of eleven would mark
the end.
So occupied was my mind I had not noticed the falling off in firing.
Battery after battery was silencing! Gun after gun growing still.
"Cease firing!" The command sped down the line; and it seemed these two
words leaped into the blue vaulted sky above and were echoed in Heaven!
The utter silence that of a sudden came down upon that front was
terrifying. More awful in its gripping impressiveness than the most
terrific cannonading. You seemed, in that tense moment, to have lost
your footing on some storm-swept hill, and fallen headlong into a deep
valley. There was no cheering. The boys simply looked at each other and
waited; waited like the boxer who, having delivered a fatal blow, stands
intently watching his fallen opponent, until the referee has tolled off
the final count, and raised his arm in token of victory.
Then came the reaction. Lusty cheers rose from all sides, helmets were
tossed into the air, rifles were stacked, and impromptu cake walks and
fox trots staged with grotesque abandon.
No one ventured into No Man's Land, that was strictly forbidden; but all
over the rear approaches jubilation reigned supreme.
Groups quickly formed, excitedly discussing it all, "What's the big
idea?" "Has Jerry quit for good?" "How do you get that way?" Some burst
into song: "I Don't Want to Go Home."
Suddenly a glorious sound came floating up the rear ravine; it was the
Regimental band of the 7th Engineers, playing Sousa's "Stars and Stripes
Forever!"
Oh, how it thrilled and touched our very depth of soul! Its melody burst
upon our unaccustomed ears with something, at least, of the joy the
shepherds felt, when Angels brought them "Good tidings" at Bethlehem!
Out of all this trance of joy, however, stern Duty soon called us. Many
a silent body, our own and the enemy's, lay unburied along the front. On
requisition at Headquarters, two companies from a Pioneer Infantry
Regiment were assigned to us, co-ordinating with our regular Burial
Details. Near and far we combed hills and plains for bodies, penetrating
trenches, dugouts, and ruins. Six days of untiring effort, brought
reward of warmly commending words from our Division Commander.
At Mass the following Sunday in the old ruined Church of St. Sebastian
at Euvezin, the subject was recalled of those days of old when the
Galilean Sea was tempest tossed. Then in the boat rose the Master who
said to the storm, "Peace! Be still! And there came a great calm." Even
so, had that same Divine Power now spoken along our torn battle front;
and "May the Peace and Calm that now has come reign on forever!"
That afternoon an artillery Regimental band gave a concert. Illustrative
of the mental breadth and generous nature marking the real American boy,
in its repertoire was to be observed Strouse's "Blue Danube Waltz!"
It was during one of these eventful days word reached us from across No
Man's Land that old men, women and children in the town of Gorz, across
the German border, were entirely without food, and dying of starvation.
Our forces were marking time in the positions the close of hostilities
found them occupying, and, as the time for moving forward with the Army
of Occupation was indefinite, we decided to go forward at once with food
supplies for the starving inhabitants.
This aid work was to be entirely informal and on our own initiative, no
military provision having been made for such emergency. With little
difficulty five tons of army rations were secured, and, accompanied by
good Major Hirch, I set out.
Our journey took us through miles of devastated country. Tons upon tons
of war material, abandoned by the retiring German troops, littered roads
and fields. Clothing, helmets, small arms of all description, whole
batteries of Howitzers still in position, dense black fumes from burning
ammunition dumps, acres of barbed wire fields and hillsides shell-torn,
bodies still unburied--all this was the spectacle of war havoc greeting
the eye on every side.
In the chill of that bleak November evening we crossed the German
frontier and entered Gorz. Aged and feeble men and women looked sadly at
us from their doors. Children, whose pinched faces clearly showed the
ravages of hunger, timidly followed our supply trucks up the deserted
street.
[Illustration: "GREATER LOVE THAN THIS NO MAN HAS."]
We were the first American soldiers they had ever seen. Drawing up in
front of the old market place, Major Hirch explained our mission,
speaking to the people in German.
When the poor starved creatures realized we were bringing them food,
their joy knew no bounds; the children shouted with very joy and swarmed
up into the trucks. We found ourselves crying, but supremely happy in
the realization that we were doing the Master's work.
The inhabitants fluently spoke French as well as German; and when the
children saw the Chaplain's cross and found I was a priest, their
reverence and affection was most pronounced.
The food, indeed, was but the coarse Army fare, "bully" beef, hard tack,
and condensed milk; but, withal, it was relished most keenly. We felt
gratified in the humble part we had played in saving the lives of those
unfortunate non-combatants, and organizing our first Divisional Relief
Expedition into Germany.