CHATEAU-THIERRY AND THE BOIS DE BELLEAU
I have endeavoured to show in preceding chapters the development of the
young American army in France from a mere handful of new troops up to
the creation of units capable of independent action on the front. Only
that intense and thorough training made it possible for our oversea
forces to play the veteran part they did play in the great Second Battle
of the Marne.
The battle developed as a third phase of the enemy's Western Front
offensives of the year. The increasing strength of the American forces
overseas forced Germany to put forth her utmost efforts in the forlorn
hope of gaining a decision in the field before the Allied lines could
have the advantage of America's weight.
On March 21st, the Germans had launched their first powerful offensive
on a front of fifty miles from Arras to Noyon in Picardy and had
advanced their lines from St. Quentin to the outskirts of Amiens.
On April 9th, the German hordes struck again in Flanders on a front of
twenty miles from Lens northward to the River Lys and had cut into the
Allied front as far as Armentieres.
There followed what was considered an abnormal delay in the third act of
the demonstration. It was known that the Germans were engaged in making
elaborate arrangements for this mid-summer push. It was the enemy hope
in this great offensive to strike a final effective blow against the
hard-pressed Allied line before America's rising power could be thrown
into the fight.
The blow fell on the morning of May 27th. The front selected for the
assault was twenty-five miles in width, extending from the Ailette near
Vauxaillon to the Aisne-Marne Canal near Brimont. The Prussian Crown
Prince was the titular chief of the group of armies used in the assault.
One of these forces was the army of General von Boehm, which before the
attack had numbered only nine divisions and had extended from the Oise
at Noyon to east of Craconne. The other army was that of General Fritz
von Buelow, previously composed of eight divisions and supporting a front
that extended from Craconne across the Rheims front to Suippe, near
Auberive. On the day of the attack, these armies had been strengthened
to twice their normal number of divisions, and subsequently captured
German plans revealed that the enemy expected to use forty-five
divisions or practically half a million men in the onslaught.
The battle began at dawn. It was directed against the weakly held French
positions on the Chemin des Dames. It was preceded by a three hour
bombardment of terrific intensity. The French defenders were outnumbered
four to one. The Germans put down a rolling barrage that was two miles
deep. It destroyed all wire communications and flooded battery
emplacements and machine gun posts with every brand of poison gas known
to German kultur. Dust and artificial smoke clouds separated the
defenders into small groups and screened the attacking waves until they
had actually penetrated the French positions.
The French fought hard to resist the enemy flood across the Chemin des
Dames with its ground sacred with tragic memories, but a withdrawal was
necessary. The French command was forced to order a retreat to the
Aisne. Hard-fighting French divisions and some units of the British
Fifth Army, which had been badly hit in Picardy in March, made an
orderly withdrawal southward.
On the second day of the fight the enemy made a strong thrust toward
Soissons, and after keeping the city under continual bombardment,
succeeded in overcoming all resistance and occupying the city on May
29th. On the first day of the attack alone, twelve thousand explosive,
incendiary and poison gas shells were hurled in amongst the hospitals in
Soissons. American ambulance units did heroic work in the removal of the
wounded.
The Germans forced a crossing on the Aisne. On the following day, May
30th, they had crossed the Vesle River and had captured
Fere-en-Tardenois. On the following day their victorious hordes had
reached the Marne and were closing in on Chateau-Thierry.
Some idea of the terrific strength of the enemy offensive may be gained
from a recapitulation which would show that in five days the Germans had
pushed through five successive lines of Allied defence, and had
penetrated more than twenty-five miles. On the first day, they had
captured the Chemin des Dames, on the second day, they had overcome all
resistance on the Aisne, on the third day, their forces, pushing
southward, had crossed the Vesle River, on the fourth day, they had
destroyed the lines of resistance along the Ourcq, on the fifth day,
they had reached the Marne.
It was a crisis. The battle front formed a vast triangle with the apex
pointing southward toward Paris. The west side of the triangle extended
fifty miles northward from the Marne to the Oise near Noyon. The east
side of the triangle ran north-eastward thirty miles to Rheims. The
point of this new thrust at Paris rested on the north bank of the Marne
at Chateau-Thierry. The enemy had advanced to within forty miles of the
capital of France; the fate of the Allied world hung in the balance.
Undoubtedly I am prejudiced, but I like to feel that I know the real
reason why the German hordes stopped at Chateau-Thierry on the north
bank of the Marne. To me that reason will always be this--because on the
south bank of the Marne stood the Americans.
On that day and in that event there materialised the German fears which
had urged them on to such great speed and violence. In the eleventh
hour, there at the peak of the German thrust, there at the climax of
Germany's triumphant advances, there at the point where a military
decision for the enemy seemed almost within grasp, there and then the
American soldier stepped into the breech to save the democracy of the
world.
The Marne River makes a loop at this place and Chateau-Thierry lies on
both banks. The Marne there is called a river, but it would hardly come
up to the American understanding of the word. The waterway is more like
a canal with banks built up with stone blocks. There are streets on
either bank, and these being the principal streets of the town, are
bordered with comparatively high buildings.
While the Germans were on the outskirts of the city, American forces had
made brilliant counter attacks on both sides. To the west of
Chateau-Thierry the German advance forces, seeking to penetrate Neuilly
Wood, had been hurled back by our young troops. To the east of
Chateau-Thierry the enemy had succeeded in crossing the Marne in the
vicinity of Jaulgonne.
This operation was carried out by the German 36th Division. On the night
of May 30th, at a point where the Marne looped northward eight miles to
the east of Chateau-Thierry, the enemy succeeded in putting a few men
across the river.
Along the south bank of the river at that place, the Paris-Chalons ran
through a number of deep cuts and one tunnel. The enemy took shelter in
these natural protections. They suffered serious losses from the Allied
artillery which also destroyed some of their pontoons across the river,
but in spite of this, the Germans succeeded in re-enforcing the units on
the south bank to the strength of about a battalion.
Almost at the same time, the French defenders at this place received
re-enforcements from the Americans. Units of the 3rd United States
Regular Division and the 28th U. S. Division, comprised largely of
Pennsylvania National Guardsmen, were rushed forward from training
areas, miles back of the line, where they were engaged in fitting
themselves for line duty. These incompletely trained American units
abandoned their bayonet-stabbing of gunny-sacks and make-believe warfare
to rush forward into the real thing.
On June 2nd, these Americans, under command of French officers, began
the counter attack to sweep the Germans back from the south bank. By
that time the enemy had succeeded in putting twenty-two light bridges
across the Marne and had established a strong bridgehead position with a
number of machine guns and a strong force of men in the railway station
on the south bank of the river opposite Jaulgonne.
This position was attacked frontally by the Americans and French. Our
novices in battle were guilty of numerous so-called strategical
blunders, but in the main purpose of killing the enemy, they proved
irresistible. The Germans broke and ran. At the same time, the French
artillery lowered a terrific barrage on the bridges crossing the river,
with the result that many of the fleeing enemy were killed and more
drowned. Only thirty or forty escaped by swimming. One hundred of them
threw down their arms and surrendered. The remainder of the battalion
was wiped out. At the close of the engagement the Americans and the
French were in full command of the south bank.
But it was in Chateau-Thierry itself that the Germans made their most
determined effort to cross the river and get a footing on the south
bank, and it was there, again, that their efforts were frustrated by our
forces. On May 31st, American machine gun units, then in training
seventy-five kilometres south of the Marne, were hurriedly bundled into
motor lorries and rushed northward into Chateau-Thierry.
The Germans were advancing their patrols into the north side of the
city. They were pouring down the streets in large numbers, with the
evident purpose of crossing the bridges and establishing themselves on
the south bank.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon of May 31st that those American
machine gunners got their first glimpse of real war. That night while
the German artillery raked the south bank of the river with high
explosive shells, those Americans, shouldering their machine guns,
marched into the city and took up defensive positions on the south bank
of the river.
During the night many houses were turned into ruins. Shells striking the
railroad station had caused it to burn. In the red glare our men saw the
houses about them collapse under clouds of dust and debris. Under cover
of darkness the Germans filtered through the streets on the north side
of the river. The American machine gunners went into position in the
windows of houses on the south bank and in gardens between the houses,
and from these positions it was possible to command all of the bridge
approaches and streets leading to the river on the opposite side.
During the night, Lieutenant John T. Bissell, a young Pittsburgher but
recently graduated from West Point, started across one of the bridges
and reached the north bank with a squad of a dozen men and two machine
guns. This little unit went into position in a place commanding the
forked highways which converged not far from the northern approach of
the iron bridge crossing the river. It was this unit's function to
prevent the enemy advance from this direction. The unit was separated
from its comrades on the south bank by the river and about two hundred
yards. In spite of the fact that the enemy artillery intensified its
shelling of the south bank, the American machine gunners remained at
their posts without firing and played a waiting game.
With the coming of dawn the Germans began to make their rushes for the
bridges. Small compact forces would dart forward carrying light machine
guns and ammunition with them. They encountered a terrific burst of
American fire and wilted in front of it. Those that survived crawled
back to the shelter of protecting walls, where they were re-enforced
with fresh units, and again the massed formations charged down the
streets toward the bridges. The slaughter of Germans increased until the
approaches were dotted with bodies of the enemy slain.
On June 1st, the Germans having consolidated positions on the hills
commanding the city from the north, they directed a terrific artillery
and machine gun fire into our exposed positions on the south bank, as
well as the small posts still held on the north bank by Lieutenant
Bissell and his machine gunners. Although the position held by the
little American group had long been considered untenable, the members of
it stuck it out until nightfall, when they received orders to retire to
the south bank. At the same time, French colonials which had held a
position throughout the day on the north bank on the edge of the town,
withdrew in accordance with the same plan. The retirement of both
parties was covered by our machine gunners on the south bank, who poured
a hot fire into the evacuated areas as the Germans began occupying them.
By 10:30 that night the completion of the movement was signalised by a
terrific explosion, as the French colonials blew up one of the stone
bridges over which they had withdrawn. But the destruction of the bridge
had cut off the little band of Americans and left them almost surrounded
by the enemy on the north bank of the river, which was now becoming
strongly populated by the enemy. Through the darkness could be heard the
sound of shuffling, hobnailed boots, and even above the crack of the
guns there came the weird swish of the grey coats as they pushed forward
in mass formations.
The little party of thirteen Americans dismantled their guns and, with
each man carrying his allotted piece, they began working their way along
the river bank toward the main bridge, where they discovered that the
enemy was almost upon them. They immediately went into position behind
the stone parapet on the very brink of the river, and, although in
constant danger from the American fire that poured out from the south
bank, they poured streams of lead point-blank into the advancing German
ranks.
The Americans on the south bank were not aware of the plight of the
little party on the north bank. In spite of their losses, the Germans
continued their grewsome rushes toward the approaches of the iron bridge
across which our machine gunners were pouring a devastating fire.
Lieutenant Bissell and his men made one effort to cross the bridge, but
were forced to crawl back to shelter on the north bank, carrying with
them three of their wounded. They found themselves between a cross-fire.
Then Bissell, alone, approached as near as he dared, and the first
intimation that the Americans on the south bank had of the fact that
Americans were in front of them was when Lieutenant Cobey heard
Bissell's voice calling his name. A cease fire order was immediately
given and Bissell and his men rushed across the bridge, carrying their
wounded with them.
On the following day the Germans were in occupation of all the houses
facing the north bank of the river, and could be seen from time to time
darting from one shelter to another. Throughout the day their artillery
maintained a terrific downpour of shells on the positions held by our
men on the south bank. So intense was the rifle fire and activity of
snipers, that it meant death to appear in the open. The Americans manned
their guns throughout the day, but refrained from indulging in machine
gun fire because it was not desired to reveal the locations of the guns.
Nightfall approached with a quiet that was deadly ominous of impending
events.
At nine o'clock the enemy formations lunged forward to the attack. Their
dense masses charged down the streets leading toward the river. They
sang as they advanced. The orders, as revealed in documents captured
later, came straight from the high command and demanded the acquisition
of a foothold on the south bank at all costs. They paid the costs, but
never reached the south bank.
The American machine gun fire was withering. Time after time, in the
frequent rushes throughout the night, the remnants of enemy masses would
reach sometimes as far as the centre of the big bridge, but none of them
succeeded in reaching the south bank. The bridge became carpeted with
German dead and wounded. They lay thick in the open streets near the
approaches. By morning their dead were piled high on the bridge and
subsequent rushes endeavoured to advance over the bodies of their fallen
comrades. In this battle of the bridges and the streets, our men showed
a courage and determination which aroused the admiration of the French
officers, who were aware by this time that forty-eight hours before
these same American soldiers had seen battle for the first time.
Our machine gunners turned the northern bank of the river into a No
Man's Land. Their vigilance was unrelenting and every enemy attempt to
elude it met with disaster. There were serious American casualties
during that terrific fire, but they were nothing in comparison with the
thousand or more German dead that dotted the streets and clogged the
runways of the big bridge in piles. The last night of the fight enormous
charges of explosive were placed beneath the bridge and discharged.
The bridge was destroyed. High into the air were blown bits of stone,
steel, timber, debris, wreckage and the bodies of German dead, all to
fall back into the river and go bobbing up and down in the waters of the
Marne.
Thus did the Americans save the day at Chateau-Thierry, but it became
immediately necessary for the French high command to call upon our young
forces for another great effort. In response to this call, the Second
United States Division, including one brigade of the United States
Marines, the 5th and 6th Regiments, started for the front. The division
was then occupying support positions in the vicinity of Gisors behind
the Picardy line. At four o'clock on the morning of May 31st the Marine
brigade and regiments of United States infantry, the 9th and the 23rd
Regulars, boarded camions, twenty to thirty men and their equipment in
each vehicle.
They were bound eastward to the valley of the Marne. The road took them
through the string of pretty villages fifteen miles to the north of
Paris. The trucks loaded with United States troops soon became part of
the endless traffic of war that was pouring northward and eastward
toward the raging front. Our men soon became coated with the dust of the
road. The French people in the villages through which they passed at top
speed cheered them and threw flowers into the lorries.
Between Meaux and Chateau-Thierry, where the road wound along the Marne,
our men encountered long trains of French refugees, weary mothers
carrying hungry babies at the breast, farm wagons loaded with household
belongings, usually surmounted by feather mattresses on which rode
grey-haired grandfathers and grandmothers. This pitiful procession was
moving toward the rear driving before it flocks of geese and herds of
cattle. On the other side of the road war, grim war, moved in the
opposite direction.
The Second Division was bound for the line to the northwest of
Chateau-Thierry. On June 1st, the 6th Marines relieved the French on the
support lines. The sector of the 6th Regiment joined on the left the
sector held by two battalions of the 5th. The line on the right was held
by the French. On June 2nd, the hard-pressed French line, weak and weary
from continual rear guard actions, over a hard fighting period of
almost a week, fell back by prearranged plan and passed through the
support positions which we held. To fill gaps between units, the Marines
extended their brigade sector to between twelve and fourteen kilometres.
As the French withdrew to the rear, hard pressed by the enemy, the
Marines held the new first line.
The regimental headquarters of the 6th was located in a stone farmhouse
at a cross-roads called La Voie Chatel, situated between the villages of
Champillon and Lucy-le-Bocage. There was clear observation from that
point toward the north. At five o'clock in the afternoon on that day of
clear visibility, the Germans renewed their attacks from the north and
northeast toward a position called Hill 165, which was defended by the
5th Regiment.
The Germans advanced in two solid columns across a field of golden
wheat. More than half of the two columns had left the cover of the trees
and were moving in perfect order across the field when the shrapnel fire
from the American artillery in the rear got range on the target. Burst
after burst of white smoke suddenly appeared in the air over the column,
and under each burst the ground was marked with a circle of German dead.
It was not barrage fire: it was individual firing against two individual
moving targets and its success spoke well for the training which that
brigade of American artillery had received.
French aviators from above directed the fire of our guns, and from high
in the air signalled down their "bravos" in congratulation on the
excellent work. At the same time, the machine gunners of the 5th covered
the ravines and wooded clumps with a hot fire to prevent small bodies of
the enemy from infiltrating through our lines. The French marvelled at
the deliberateness and accuracy of our riflemen.
The Germans, unaware that a change had taken place in the personnel that
faced them, reeled back demoralised and unable to understand how such a
sudden show of resistance had been presented by the weakened French
troops which they had been driving before them for a week. The enemy's
advance had been made openly and confidently in the mistaken flush of
victory. Their triumphant advances of the previous week had more than
supported the statements of the German officers, who had told their men
that they were on the road to Paris--the end of the war and peace. It
was in this mood of victory that the enemy encountered the Marines'
stone wall and reeled back in surprise.
That engagement, in addition to lowering the enemy morale, deprived them
of their offensive spirit and placed them on the defensive. The next few
days were spent in advancing small strong points and the strengthening
of positions. In broad daylight one group of Marines rushed a German
machine gun pit in the open, killed or wounded every man in the crew,
disabled the gun and got back to their lines in safety.
It was at five o'clock on the bright afternoon of June 6th that the
United States Marines began to carve their way into history in the
battle of the Bois de Belleau. Major General Harbord, former Chief of
Staff to General Pershing, was in command of the Marine brigade. Orders
were received for a general advance on the brigade front. The main
objectives were the eastern edge of the Bois de Belleau and the towns of
Bussiares, Torcy and Bouresches.
Owing to the difficulty of liaison in the thickets of the wood, and
because of the almost impossible task of directing it in conjunction
with the advancing lines, the artillery preparation for the attack was
necessarily brief. At five o'clock to the dot the Marines moved out from
the woods in perfect order, and started across the wheat fields in four
long waves. It was a beautiful sight, these men of ours going across
those flat fields toward the tree clusters beyond from which the Germans
poured a murderous machine gun fire.
The woods were impregnated with nests of machine guns, but our advance
proved irresistible. Many of our men fell, but those that survived
pushed on through the woods, bayoneting right and left and firing as
they charged. So sweeping was the advance that in some places small
isolated units of our men found themselves with Germans both before and
behind them.
The enemy put up a stubborn resistance on the left, and it was not until
later in the evening that this part of the line reached the northeast
edge of the woods, after it had completely surrounded a most populous
machine gun nest which was located on a rocky hill. During the fighting
Colonel Catlin was wounded and Captain Laspierre, the French liaison
officer, was gassed, two casualties which represented a distinct blow to
the brigade, but did not hinder its further progress.
On the right Lieutenant Robertson, with twenty survivors out of his
entire platoon, emerged from the terrific enemy barrage and took the
town of Bouresches at the point of the bayonet. Captain Duncan,
receiving word that one Marine company, with a determination to engage
the enemy in hand-to-hand combat, had gone two hundred yards in advance,
raced forward on the double quick with the 96th Marine Company, and was
met by a terrific machine gun barrage from both sides of Bouresches.
Lieutenant Robertson, looking back, saw Duncan and the rest of his
company going down like flies as they charged through the barrage. He
saw Lieutenant Bowling get up from the ground, his face white with pain,
and go stumbling ahead with a bullet in his shoulder. Duncan, carrying a
stick and with his pipe in his mouth, was mowed down in the rain of
lead. Robertson saw Dental Surgeon Osborne pick Duncan up. With the aid
of a Hospital Corps man, they had just gained the shelter of some trees
when a shell wiped all three of them out.
In the street fighting that ensued in Bouresches, Lieutenant Robertson's
orderly, Private Dunlavy, who was later killed in the defence of the
town, captured one of the enemy's own machine guns and turned it against
them.
In the dense woods the Germans showed their mastery of machine gun
manipulation and the method of infiltration by which they would place
strong units in our rear and pour in a deadly fire. Many of these guns
were located on rocky ridges, from which they could fire to all points.
These Marines worked with reckless courage against heavy odds, and the
Germans exacted a heavy toll for every machine gun that was captured or
disabled, but in spite of losses the Marine advance continued.
Lieutenant Overton, commanding the 76th Company, made a brilliant charge
against a strong German position at the top of a rocky hill. He and his
men captured all of the guns and all of their crews. Overton was hit
later when the Germans retaliated by a concentration of fire against the
captured position for forty-eight hours.
Lieutenant Robertson, according to the report brought back by a
regimental runner, was last seen flat on a rock not twenty yards away
from one enemy gun, at which he kept shooting with an automatic in each
hand. He was hit three times before he consented to let his men carry
him to the rear.
"There was not an officer left in the 82nd Company," according to a
letter by Major Frank E. Evans, Adjutant of the Sixth. "Major Sibley and
his Adjutant reorganised them under close fire and led them in a charge
that put one particular machine gun nest out of business at the most
critical time in all the fighting. I heard later that at that stage some
one said: 'Major Sibley ordered that--' and another man said: 'Where in
hell is Sibley?' Sibley was twenty yards away at that time and a hush
went down the line when they saw him step out to lead the charge.
"And when the word got around through that dead-tired, crippled outfit
that 'the Old Man' was on the line, all hell could not have stopped that
rush."
In such fashion did the Marines go through the Bois de Belleau. Their
losses were heavy, but they did the work. The sacrifice was necessary.
Paris was in danger. The Marines constituted the thin line between the
enemy and Paris. The Marines not only held that line--they pushed it
forward.
The fighting was terrific. In one battalion alone the casualties
numbered sixty-four per cent. officers and sixty-four per cent. men.
Several companies came out of the fighting under command of their first
sergeants, all of the officers having been killed or wounded.
I witnessed some of that fighting. I was with the Marines at the opening
of the battle. I never saw men charge to their death with finer spirit.
I am sorry that wounds prevented me from witnessing the victorious
conclusion of the engagement. In view of my subsequent absence from the
fight, I wish to give credit and thanks at this place to Major Frank E.
Evans, who as Adjutant of the 6th Regiment of Marines, provided me with
much of the foregoing material which occurred while I was in the
hospital.
The bravery of that Marine brigade in the Bois de Belleau fight will
ever remain a bright chapter in the records of the American Army. For
the performance of deeds of exceptional valour, more than a hundred
Marines were awarded Distinguished Service Crosses. General Pershing, in
recognition of the conduct of the Second Division, issued the following
order:
"It is with inexpressible pride and satisfaction that your commander
recounts your glorious deeds on the field of battle. In the early
days of June on a front of twenty kilometres, after night marches
and with only the reserve rations which you carried, you stood like
a wall against the enemy advance on Paris. For this timely action
you have received the thanks of the French people whose homes you
saved and the generous praise of your comrades in arms.
"Since the organisation of our sector, in the face of strong
opposition, you have advanced your lines two kilometres on a front
of eight kilometres. You have engaged and defeated with great loss
three German divisions and have occupied important strong
points--Belleau Wood, Bouresches, and Vaux. You have taken about
1,400 prisoners, many machine guns, and much other material. The
complete success of the infantry was made possible by the splendid
co-operation of the artillery, by the aid and assistance of the
engineer and signal troops, by the diligent and watchful care of the
medical and supply services, and by the unceasing work of the
well-organised staff. All elements of the division have worked
together as a well-trained machine.
"Amid the dangers and trials of battle, every officer and every man
has done well his part. Let the stirring deeds, hardships, and
sacrifices of the past month remain forever a bright spot in our
history. Let the sacred memory of our fallen comrades spur us on to
renewed effort and to the glory of American arms."
All of the German prisoners captured by the Marines in the Bois de
Belleau could express only surprise over the fighting capacity of their
captors. Prisoners' statements are not entirely trustworthy, but here is
one that was not intended for American consumption. It was written by a
German soldier, who was killed in the Bois de Belleau before he had an
opportunity to mail it. It was removed from his body. It reads:
"France, June 21, 1918.
"We are now in the battle zone and canteens dare not come to us on
account of the enemy, for the Americans are bombarding the villages
fifteen kilometres behind the present front with long-range guns,
and you will know that the canteen outfit and the others who are
lying in reserve do not venture very far, for it is not 'pleasant to
eat cherries' with the Americans. The reason for that is that they
have not yet had much experience. The American divisions are still
too fiery. They are the first divisions that the French have
entered.... We will also show the Americans how good we are, for the
day before yesterday we bombarded them heavily with our gas. About
400 of us are lying around here. We have one corner of the woods and
the American has the other corner. That is not nice, for all of a
sudden he rushes forward and one does not know it beforehand.
Therefore, one must shoot at every little noise, for one cannot
trust them. Here always two men have dug a hold for themselves. Here
one lies day and night without a blanket, only with a coat and a
shelter-half. One freezes at night like a tailor, for the nights are
fiercely cold. I hope that I will be lucky enough to escape from
this horrible mess, for up to now I have always been lucky. Many of
my comrades are already buried here. The enemy sweeps every evening
the whole countryside with machine gun and rifle fire, and then
artillery fire. But we in front line are safer than in the support
position. At present our food is miserable. We are now fed upon
dried vegetables and marmalade and when at night we obtain more food
it is unpalatable. It is half sour and all cold. In the daytime we
receive nothing."
But it might be wise to support this statement from a German soldier in
the ranks by excerpts from an official German army report which was
captured July 7th on a German officer. The document was a carefully
weighed treatise on the fighting capacity of the United States Marines.
The document had the following heading:
_"Intelligence Officer of the Supreme Command at Army Headquarters,
Number 7, J. Number 3,528, Army Headquarters, June 17, 1917._
_"Second American Infantry Division._
_"Examination of Prisoners from the 5th, 6th, 9th and 23rd
Regiments, captured from June 5th to 14th, in the Bouresches
Sector."_
After setting forth all information gained, concerning the purpose of
attack and the arrival of the American units on the line, the German
Intelligence Report continues, as follows:
"The Second American Division may be classed as a very good
division, perhaps even as assault troops. The various attacks of
both regiments on Belleau Wood were carried out with dash and
recklessness. The moral effect of our firearms did not materially
check the advances of the enemy. The nerves of the Americans are
still unshaken.
"VALUE OF THE INDIVIDUAL--the individual soldiers are very good.
They are healthy, vigorous, and physically well-developed men, of
ages ranging from eighteen to twenty-eight, who at present lack only
necessary training to make them redoubtable opponents. The troops
are fresh and full of straightforward confidence. A remark of one of
the prisoners is indicative of their spirit: 'We kill or get
killed.'
"MORALE--the prisoners in general make an alert and pleasing
impression. Regarding military matters, however, they do not show
the slightest interest. Their superiors keep them purposely without
knowledge of the military subjects. For example, most of them have
never seen a map. They are no longer able to describe the villages
and roads through which they marched. Their idea of the organisation
of their unit is entirely confused. For example, one of them told us
that his brigade had six regiments and his division twenty-four.
They still regard the war from the point of view of the 'big
brother' who comes to help his hard-pressed brethren and is
therefore welcomed everywhere. A certain moral background is not
lacking. The majority of the prisoners simply took as a matter of
course that they have come to Europe to defend their country.
"Only a few of the troops are of pure American origin; the majority
is of German, Dutch and Italian parentage, but these semi-Americans,
almost all of whom were born in America and never have been in
Europe before, fully feel themselves to be true born sons of their
country.
(Signed) "VON BERG,
"Lieutenant and Intelligence Officer."
* * * * *
Since the days I read Hugo's chapters on the Battle of Waterloo in "Les
Miserables," I always considered as an ideal of fighting capacity and
the military spirit of sacrifice the old sergeant of Napoleon's Old
Guard. Hugo made me vividly see that old sergeant standing on a field
with a meagre remnant of the Old Guard gathered around him. Unable to
resist further, but unwilling to accept surrender, he and his followers
faced the British cannon. The British, respecting this admirable
demonstration of courage, ceased firing and called out to them, "Brave
Frenchmen, surrender."
The old sergeant, who was about to die, refused to accept this offer of
his life from the enemy. Into the very muzzles of the British cannon the
sergeant hurled back the offer of his life with one word. That word was
the vilest epithet in the French language. The cannons roared and the
old sergeant and his survivors died with the word on their lips. Hugo
wisely devoted an entire chapter to that single word.
But I have a new ideal to-day. I found it in the Bois de Belleau. A
small platoon line of Marines lay on their faces and bellies under the
trees at the edge of a wheat field. Two hundred yards across that flat
field the enemy was located in trees. I peered into the trees but could
see nothing, yet I knew that every leaf in the foliage screened scores
of German machine guns that swept the field with lead. The bullets
nipped the tops of the young wheat and ripped the bark from the trunks
of the trees three feet from the ground on which the Marines lay. The
minute for the Marine advance was approaching. An old gunnery sergeant
commanded the platoon in the absence of the lieutenant, who had been
shot and was out of the fight. This old sergeant was a Marine veteran.
His cheeks were bronzed with the wind and sun of the seven seas. The
service bar across his left breast showed that he had fought in the
Philippines, in Santo Domingo, at the walls of Pekin, and in the streets
of Vera Cruz. I make no apologies for his language. Even if Hugo were
not my precedent, I would make no apologies. To me his words were
classic, if not sacred.
As the minute for the advance arrived, he arose from the trees first and
jumped out onto the exposed edge of that field that ran with lead,
across which he and his men were to charge. Then he turned to give the
charge order to the men of his platoon--his mates--the men he loved. He
said:
"COME ON, YOU SONS-O'-BITCHES! DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?"