Late in June, 1918, the 35th Division relieved the French troops on a
portion of the front line in Alsace. Ambulance Company 139 entered
Alsace on June 24th and located in the quiet little village of Ranspach,
thus being the first company of the 110th Sanitary Train to cross the
former boundary line between French and German soil. Ranspach is near
the much larger factory town of Wesserling, and, Division Headquarters
being located at the latter place, the whole 12 or 15 kilometres of
front held by the 35th Division has come to be termed the "Wesserling
Sector". The front line itself was about ten kilometres east of
Wesserling.
Practically the whole front in Alsace was made up of what were called
"quiet" sectors, to distinguish them from "active" sectors. Alsace is
mountainous and the mountains are usually heavily timbered. The valleys
are narrow, and the main ones run north by south. The front lines also
ran north by south, parallel to the valleys. Hence, neither side could
gain ground without paying dearly for it. By a sort of mutual
understanding, both the French and the German troops had come to regard
Alsace as a place to rest, after the strenuous campaigns on other
fronts. When our fresh troops came, they made Alsace a less quiet front,
but for the most part they merely held their ground, as the French had
done for nearly four years after having pushed the Germans back part way
through Alsace in August, 1914. It was a final training area for
American divisions that had just arrived overseas.
Ambulance Company 139 maintained its headquarters at Ranspach for
exactly one month. During that time, however, most of the company was at
the front. Those who were left did not have to drill, for we were within
aerial observation and no formations could be stood. The trenches were
scarcely five miles away, tho by the winding road up through the
mountains it was twice that far. The main diversion during the day was
watching the anti-aircraft batteries shoot at the Boche aeroplanes. On
the morning of July 3rd we were rewarded for our patience, upon seeing
our first Boche plane fall after being hit. It must have been 5000 ft.
in the air when hit, and made a straight nose dive for the earth, but
before it landed, it righted itself and spun around like a leaf until it
hit the ground.
Every evening we would have our supper contested. An old man and his dog
grazed a herd of goats during the day, and brought them home in the
evening, just when we were eating. They passed right by our kitchen and
tried their best to help themselves to our supper. As the goats passed
by their respective houses, the dog would separate them and run them
into their own yards. In the morning, at the sound of a horn, the goats
would run out of their houses and join the collective herd.
Canes became the style from the buck private up, and every evening we
would go walking, Wesserling, St. Amarin, or the cherry trees on the
sides of the mountain being the chief points of interest. The canes were
a great help in climbing the hills.
For the first time since our arrival in France we were paid, and in
French money, and that evening "vin rouge" reigned supreme in the little
village. It didn't take us long to become accustomed to francs and
centimes, instead of dimes and quarters.
Within two days after reaching Ranspach we sent out small detachments of
litter bearers to Nennette, Duchet and Wagram, as the 35th Division was
already moving up to relieve the French. The last named detachment
returned two days later, because no American infantry was to hold that
portion of the line. Still later the detachment at Nennette moved to
Larchey.
After studying the maps and roads of the sector, the company commander
decided to divide it into two subsectors, the one on the right centering
at Larchey, and the one on the left at Mittlach. Accordingly, on June
29th, two detachments from the company left Ranspach together. One
detachment of ten men, Lt. Bates, was to take to Larchey; the other of
seven men, Lt. Monteith, was to take to Mittlach. As the company had no
ambulances, all the men hiked, carrying their packs. One of the Sanitary
Service Units commonly known as the "S. S. U." had been attached to our
company for ambulance service, so one of its Ford ambulances started out
by another route to haul the officers' luggage and some medical supplies
to the two stations. There was a box of surgical dressings and a box of
food for each station. And herein lies one of the mysteries of the war.
The ambulance stopped at Larchey first, as it was the nearer of the two
points, but while the box of surgical dressings reached Mittlach, the
box of food never did. Was it left at Larchey or lost in transit? Before
the two detachments reached Larchey they separated, the detachment
headed for Mittlach keeping the main road. When it arrived at Mittlach
late that evening the Ford ambulance had already gone, and it left no
food box there. Sgt. Pringle accused Sgt. Knight of the theft, and
therein lies an argument to this day.
In each of the two sectors the same plan was followed so far as the
handling of casualties was concerned. Detachments of litter bearers went
out to the different dressing stations established by the sanitary
detachments of the infantry. These dressing stations, or infirmaries, as
they are sometimes called, were located as close to the front lines as
wounded men could be collected with safety. The 138th Infantry held the
lines in front of Larchey, and the 137th Infantry in front of Mittlach.
Sgt. Wiershing had already taken one litter squad to Mittlach and from
there on out to a post called Braunkopf, where the infirmary of the
third battalion was located.
The French had an Alpine Ambulance at Mittlach and another at Larchey.
It is well, here, to say a few words about these organizations. They in
no way resemble our American Ambulance Companies, corresponding rather
to our Field Hospitals, though even more complete than these. Alpine
Ambulances were usually within three kilometres of the front line and
often in plain view of the enemy. Hence they must be housed in dugouts.
The one at Mittlach consisted of a series of underground chambers roofed
over with heavy timbers and stone. There was a well equipped operating
room and a chamber for treating gassed patients. The whole thing was
lighted by electricity. In fact, it was a modern hospital located within
a mile and a half of the front line trenches.
The staff of each Alpine Ambulance was permanent. It did not move away
when the French Infantry left a sector; hence the natural and logical
thing to do was to secure permission to use the Alpine Ambulance as a
dressing station. This we did at both Larchey and Mittlach. In the
former case the dressing station was operated by Lt. Vardon and a detail
from our company; in the latter case by a detachment from Ambulance
Company 138. The French willingly placed their hospital equipment at the
disposal of these detachments.
At both Larchey and Mittlach each litter squad consisted of four men
equipped with one litter, and, where the road was suitable, a
two-wheeled litter cart. The detachment at Larchey also had a mule which
was supposed to pull the litter cart, but usually the men pulled it
rather than bother fetching the mule. Theoretically the battalion aid
stations of the infantry should be well up toward the front line trench
so that the wounded can receive prompt attention. The litter bearers of
the Ambulance Company are supposed to take the wounded after first aid
has been given, and carry them back to the ambulance dressing station,
where an ambulance takes them on back to a field hospital. In practice
this plan did not always work out while we were in the Vosges Mountains.
The front line was so irregular and good locations for battalion aid
stations so few that they were sometimes almost in the front line
trench, and at other times quite far back. As a result it was frequently
impossible to place relay posts so as to equalize the work of our litter
squads.
In the Larchey sector there was one main road leading out toward the
front. About two kilometres from Larchey, at a point called Brun, this
road branched, the branches leading to points named Vialet, Sermet,
Fokeday and Old Colette. We had litter squads stationed at each of the
above named points. An ambulance could go from Larchey to Brun in
daylight without being seen by the Germans so when a litter squad had
carried their patient to Brun, they telephoned in to Larchey for the
ambulance. A separate road led from Larchey to a point to the northeast
called DeGalbert. Two litter squads were stationed there, and later a
mule was sent down, to be used for pulling the litter cart. Two litter
squads were also sent to Vialet and some men had to be kept in reserve
at Larchey. By July 4th we had about thirty-two men in the Larchey
sector.
At Mittlach our territory was divided into two distinct parts by a
rather wide valley that ran straight east and west for about one
kilometre below the town, and then joined the main valley running north
and south. The German trenches were on the eastern slope of this main
valley and ours were on the western slope and in the valley itself. The
German artillery had a clear sweep at Mittlach and the side valley,
which could not be crossed in the daytime. Nor was it practical for an
ambulance to go east of Mittlach in daylight. Hence we had to establish
two distinct routes of evacuation for litter cases. The northern route
led from Mittlach out along the side of the mountain to Krantz, where a
relay squad was stationed. Further on at Braunkopf we stationed another
litter squad in the battalion aid station. About three kilometres beyond
Braunkopf, at a point called Runtz, we had another squad. This station
was at the extreme left of the sector held by the 35th Division
Infantry, and was a good eight kilometres from Mittlach. Both Runtz and
Braunkopf evacuated to Krantz, where the relay squad took the patients
and either hauled them by litter carts or carried them to Mittlach. On
the southern route the main road from Mittlach led to Camp Dubarle,
where we stationed six men as a relay. Other squads were stationed
beyond Dubarle at the ruined village of Metzeral, at D'Angeley, and at
Camp Martin, the latter being about nine kilometres southeast of
Mittlach. All patients collected on the southern route were evacuated
through Dubarle. These numerous posts required many men, so that by July
4th there were forty from the company at Mittlach. The last detachments
that left Ranspach were a disappointed lot. The company was preparing a
big dinner for the next day, and some of these men had worked helping to
prepare it--then they had to shoulder their packs late on the night of
the 3rd of July and hike to Larchey and Mittlach.
During the month that this company had a detachment at Larchey there
were two raids in that sector. About the sixth of July, Company "H" of
the 138th Infantry made a raid. The artillery preparation began at 7:45
in the evening and at 8:30 the raiding party of one officer and 238 men
went over the top. They were gone one-half hour, and at about the same
time that they came back to our trenches the first wounded were brought
in by the stretcher bearers from the line organizations. Meantime our
litter squads had known of the contemplated raid, so they were ready to
receive the wounded and litter them on back to Brun. The raid took place
directly in front of Vialet. From there to Brun it was nearly five
kilometres, and uphill. Litter bearing is strenuous work at best, but it
is doubly so when performed in the dark, and over strange, up-hill
trails. There were in all nineteen patients to carry that night. The
first patient, carried by Joe Barnes, Vesper, Toohey and John Crowley,
was a Boche. The job lasted nearly all night, and it was getting
daylight when the last wounded man reached Larchey next morning. The
work of the infantry had lasted not quite a half hour.
Nearly a week later the Germans attempted a raid early one morning, but
it was easily repulsed. The work of our detachment during the remainder
of the month consisted mostly of carrying occasional patients, and
making the climbs back and forth to meals. In some cases this was no
small task. Frequently a litter squad would have to go a quarter of a
mile or more after rations, and the trails were steep and narrow. Then
there were occasional bombardments by the Germans, and the first shell
was enough to set everyone going for a dugout. During one bombardment a
large shell exploded close to a dugout occupied by three of our men, and
caved it in. Covington was one of the three men, and the event was more
or less immortalized by his song, a parody on "When you wore a tulip,
and I wore a big red rose":
"I was sleeping in a dugout right up close to the front line,
Now I was feeling fine, when those Dutch they issued mine;
They shot some high explosives right in my dugout door,
And since that time my dugout is no more.
I grabbed my full equipment then and started back to town,
For those dirty kraut eaters had torn my play house down.
_Chorus._
When they blew up my dugout, my most substantial dugout,
Then I got right on my toes;
And when that shrapnel busted, I was thoroughly disgusted
And the speed I made, no one knows.
When I started running, my feet had a yearning
To go from where the shrapnel flows;
So when he blew up my dugout, I got my clothes and tore out,
The reason--the Lord only knows."
On another night, when Lt. Vardon and Sergeants Knight and Childs were
racing for a dugout, Lt. Vardon ran past the entrance. The glare cast by
a nearby shell explosion lighted up the dugout and, doubling back, Lt.
Vardon beat Childs into it. A man casts dignity aside and sprints when
shells begin dropping around him.
At Mittlach there were no raids in the proper sense of the term. No
detachment of the infantry ever went over the top there. But there were
numerous casualties among our troops, due to the activity of German
snipers and to accidents. Then, too, the German artillery had such an
open sweep at the town of Mittlach and the valley below it, that several
Americans were either killed or wounded by shrapnel. In fact, the very
evening that our main detachment arrived in Mittlach, a corporal of the
137th Infantry was killed by a shell as he stood in the street reading a
letter. This was the first casualty in the regiment, so the chaplain
decided to give the man a military funeral, firing squad and all. He
made the funeral arrangements over the telephone and set the time for
the funeral at 9 o'clock the next evening. The time for the funeral came
and the procession was just leaving the Alpine Ambulance when the German
artillery again began shelling the town. There were, by actual count,
just twenty-two men in the street when the first three-inch shell came
whining towards the town. It took one of those shells about six seconds
to reach Mittlach after it could first be heard, and when the first one
exploded nearby, half of those twenty-two men had already scrambled into
the door of the nearest dugout. And it was only an average size door at
that. This was the first real shelling most of the twenty-two men had
experienced, yet they took to cover as if they were used to doing it. On
another occasion a sudden bombardment caught Lt. Speck and Lt. Martin
unawares. A three-inch shrapnel ushered them around a corner and into a
dugout in record time--the one ahead trying to keep ahead, and the one
behind, trying his best to get ahead.
The ruined town of Metzeral was the foremost point occupied by any of
our litter squads at Mittlach. It was in the main valley to the south
and east of Mittlach. The American trenches ran zig-zag through the
town--along tumble-down walls, into old cellars and basements, through
neglected gardens, and around the corner of the ruined church itself.
One ducked instinctively as he passed some of the low places in the
walls, for the German trenches were visible a few hundred yards away on
the eastern slope of the valley.
The ambulance work at Mittlach and Larchey was done partly by the mule
ambulances of Ambulance Company 140 and partly by the Fords of the S. S.
U. outfit. From the various advance aid stations, the patients were
transported by ambulance to a relay station called Treh, situated about
five kilos back of Larchey. Lt. Hancock, of Ambulance Company 137 was in
charge at Treh, having two motor and two mule drawn ambulances ready to
receive and transport the patients back to the various Field Hospitals,
which were located at Kruth and neighboring towns, well out of range of
the German guns.
On the whole, the time spent in the Wesserling sector was a period of
training for our company, and in fact for the whole Sanitary Train. We
learned something about maps and trails, and especially that trails on
maps and trails on mountain sides are two very different things. We
learned also to respect our gas masks and helmets. They became our
constant companions. Indeed, the sight of school children six and eight
years old going through gas mask drill in the streets of Mittlach was
enough to make anyone think about his gas mask. All the civilians there
carried masks as they went about their daily work. We learned too, the
value of camouflage along the sides of roads, and also the wisdom of
keeping behind it. The litter bearers learned to handle patients in all
sorts of tight places, and they did their work creditably. We saw a
little example of German propaganda, also. On June 30th the Boche sent
small balloons over our lines, and to the balloons they attached cards
bearing the following message on both sides:
"Soldiers of the U. S. A.
As we hear from your comrades seized by us, your officers say
that we kill prisoners of war or do them some other harm.
Don't be such Greenhorns!