When that Frisco troop train pulled out of Kansas City, Kansas, on
September 27th, 1917, it cannot be said that it carried a very hilarious
bunch of soldiers. The men, the majority of whom had never been away
from home before for any length of time, had just spent a last few happy
days with the home folks, sweethearts and friends and now they were
going out into a new life, into new environments and with unknown
problems and experiences ahead of them. They were quiet at first, no
doubt wondering what was in store for them before they saw "home"
again, but as they left Kansas City far behind their quietness
disappeared and soon little groups were chattering at a lively rate.
[Illustration: GERARDMER.]
[Illustration: NORTHEAST TOWARD CHARPENTRY.]
[Illustration: VENTRON--VOSGES.]
After an uneventful trip the troop train carrying Kansas Ambulance
Companies No. 1 and 2 and one field hospital company arrived at the Fort
Sill railroad yards at about 4:30 P. M. on September 28th. After a short
delay the companies started their march toward the area on the south
side of the camp, designated for the Sanitary Train, and right then and
there they were introduced to that for which Camp Doniphan is
noted--DUST--five or six inches of it on every road. What a hot, dirty
hike that was, unaccustomed as the men were to those ungainly, heavy
packs! And when Kansas Ambulance Company No. 2 (later designated as
Ambulance Company 139) reached camp did they find comfortable tents or
barracks to step into? They did not. True, tents were there, but they
were in wooden crates, and there was a long, vacant space between a mess
hall and a bath house on which those tents were to stand. Fate was with
the men that night, for the moon was shining brightly, so after a supper
of crackers and cheese they soon had twelve Sibley tents pitched on the
allotted space. Tired from their trip and work litters made excellent
bunks and the men slept the sleep of the weary, their first night under
real army conditions.
Army life, as experienced in those first six weeks at Camp Doniphan, can
scarcely be called a picnic. _If_ there had been floors in the tents,
and _if_ you could have turned a switch instead of having to light a
candle in order to have light, and _if_ there had been an adequate
supply of good water, and _if_ "DUST," in vast quantities, had not been
a "regular issue"--well, such was life at Doniphan for the first few
weeks.
However, by Thanksgiving, many improvements had been made. Good water
was piped from a lake some distance from the camp and no longer was moss
and like substances found in the water that came through the pipes. Nor
was it necessary to watch all the dust of Kansas blow by from the north
in the morning, with a return trip in the afternoon. The tents were
floored and sidings put on, and electric lights were installed; Sibley
stoves were issued, together with an ample supply of wood--all of which
made the life at Camp Doniphan a little more attractive. A large boiler
and tank was installed in the bath house, giving the men plenty of hot
water for bathing and washing clothes. Military training continued, of
course, consisting of drilling on the field and lectures in the mess
hall by medical officers on subjects essential to the work of sanitary
troops. This included practice in the use of bandages and splints and
litter drill.
The Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays brought many visitors to
camp--mothers, brothers, sisters and friends, all anxious to see for
themselves the Army life that the men had been writing about. If any of
the mothers had been worrying about the "beans and hard-tack" which is
supposed to be an unvarying part of a soldier's menu, they returned home
with that worry eliminated, for on both Thanksgiving and Christmas,
"John," the red-headed chef of the company, brought forth dinners that
would make the "Plantation Grill" or the "Pompeien Room" sit up and take
notice. Turkey, all you could eat and with all the trimmings, and the
dessert of mince pie and fruit cake, made one think of "Home, Sweet
Home" and Mother's incomparable cooking. As a whole, Army feed wasn't
half as bad as it was supposed to be. How could it be, when flapjacks,
sausage, steak and pie were regular issues?
The winter of 1917-18, according to the "natives," was the worst in
Oklahoma for fifteen years, and those reports will never be questioned
by the men who were at Doniphan that winter. More than once they awoke
in the morning to find three or four inches of snow on the tent floor.
However, unaccustomed as the men were to living in tents in cold
weather, there was a comparatively small amount of sickness. True, a
number of the men were sent to the Base Hospital, with measles,
influenza and pneumonia, and several times the company was quarantined,
but very few of the cases proved serious, and sooner or later the men
returned to duty.
For several months, both the Base Hospital and the Isolation Camp were
in need of Medical men, and details from the Sanitary Train were sent to
relieve the situation. The men were put to work at anything from nurse
to Supply Sergeant, and this work gave them some good, practical
experience along medical lines. Just before Christmas, the company
received twelve G. M. C. Ambulances, and for the remainder of our stay
at Doniphan these ambulances were used for evacuation work between the
Base Hospital and the different units of the Division.
Not all of the training at Doniphan was along _medical_ lines, however.
At regular intervals you could expect to find your name on the Bulletin
Board under the heading "Kitchen Police," and when it wasn't that, it
was probably for a tour of guard duty, and if you were lucky enough to
miss both of those details, it was seldom that you weren't picked for
company fatigue.
The personnel of our officers changed somewhat at Doniphan. Lt. Adamson
soon after getting there, received his honorable discharge. About
February 1st, Lt. Tenney was transferred to a Machine Gun Battalion, and
Lt. Speck was placed in command of the company. Lt. Paul R. "Daddy"
Siberts, Lt. Bret V. Bates, and Lt. Colin C. Vardon were assigned to the
company while at Doniphan, the latter in place of Lt. Bondurant, who was
transferred to the Casual Company at Camp Doniphan.
With the coming of warmer weather in the early spring, the outside drill
turned to hikes, and many is the tale that can be told about the
"strategic maneuvers" of the Sanitary Train. Ask any of the man about
the night at Buffalo Springs, when J. Pluvius turned the faucet wide
open, deluging the tent city. Ask them about "The Lost Sanitary Train,"
when, in returning from Sulphur Springs, they circled Scott Mountain
before they finally bumped into Medicine Lake, and finally arrived back
to camp at 3 A. M. But as a rule, the hikes were interesting and
instructive, and furnished excellent training. Men who had always
depended on Mother for their meals learned how to build a camp fire in
the face of a high wind and to cook their dinner of bacon, potatoes and
coffee. They learned that a great deal of territory can be covered
without the use of a street car or "flivver," and incidentally their
muscles became hardened, fitting them for the strenuous work ahead.
From the very first, nothing interested the men more than the thought of
a furlough home, and almost as soon as they arrived at Doniphan, the
arguments were many as to whether it would be nicer to be home for
Thanksgiving or Christmas. But it was not until January that any leaves
at all were granted. Then the furloughs were limited to five or seven
days, and in that way almost all of the men were able to visit the home
folks for a few days before leaving for overseas service. Putting their
feet under Mother's table again, and seeing Her for a few days,
invariably put the men in a happier and more contented spirit, and they
came back to camp with more "pep" for their work.
Tho the days were filled with the routine of drill and company duties,
the social side of life at Doniphan must not be forgotten. Not far from
camp was the city of Lawton, and while it was far from being an ideal
town, it was at least a change from the monotony of camp life. Passes to
town were liberal, and the men spent many pleasant evenings there,
either at the picture shows or with friends whom they met after going to
Doniphan.
The Y. M. C. A. deserves a great deal of credit for its work at
Doniphan. "Y" Bldg. No. 59, used by the Sanitary Train and the 110th
Engineers, was just a short distance from the train area, and in the
evening immediately after Retreat a stream of men could be seen going in
that direction. The "Y" furnished paper and envelopes, pen and ink, thus
encouraging the men to write home oftener. Movies, at least twice a
week, band concerts and boxing bouts were some of the means of
entertaining the men, and there was always a full house. On Sundays the
men were privileged to attend exceptionally interesting religious
services, and the series of addresses given by Chaplain Reeder of the
Engineers was well worth hearing.
Almost as soon as the company arrived at Doniphan, rumors filled the air
about the Division leaving for overseas service, but nothing
substantial developed until about the middle of March. Then orders were
received that the Division was booked to leave, and the work preparatory
to moving started in earnest. Everything, from the kitchen range to the
Pierce-Arrow trucks, had to be prepared for shipment. Lumber was
furnished, and the company carpenters were kept busy almost to the day
of departure building crates and boxes. After being crated, each article
had to be stenciled with the company designation, together with the
weight and cubical contents, and the Division Symbol. Packing lists were
prepared, which was no small task, and the main work preparatory to
leaving was completed.
Not all of the men of the company left Camp Doniphan with the Division,
for as is always the case in a large body of men, there were a few who
were physically unfit. These men, nine of them, were left at the Casual
Camp at Camp Doniphan, and were later assigned to recruiting or military
police duty in various parts of the United States.