would happen was a puzzle to all. Some said we were going back to Lyon
for a repose, while others maintained we were hound for the Dardanelles.
Finally we got orders to pack all our stuff and be ready to move during
the night. About midnight, April 24th, a French regiment relieved us and
we marched out of Verzenay. It was a very disagreeable night, and
coupled with a chilly, penetrating fog and the rather forced march, we
were more or less fatigued when we reached a small town at about five
o’clock the next morning: our _escouade_ (squad), the 15th, was assigned
to a sort of cow shed. The ground was as hard as a rock and as cold. We
turned in, but tired as we were, it was impossible to get much sleep,
although we tried to sleep during the day. At five in the afternoon we
went up town to see what the place was like; it was a small place with
about six stores and overcrowded with soldiers.
When we got back I started to read periodicals received from New York.
Outside there was a small yard with a squad kitchen on one side and our
quarters on the other. I’ll stop here a second to say a word about the
men in our squad.
The corporal could be most anything but I think he is Arab-French; he is
a quiet fellow and O. K. There are four Légionnaires with us; one of
them has served fifteen years with the Legion and another about ten.
These two are naturalized Frenchmen and fast friends. The old-timer has
a huge beard and is a very quaint character. I enjoy watching him; he
reminds me so much of those gnomes who used to interest me when I was
small. The other fellow is short and very brown. The way they confide in
each other is really ludicrous. When one has an imaginary illness he
takes the other aside and they get their heads together and sympathize
with each other; it is laughable. As they share their sorrows they also
share their joys. You buy their kind of joy by the canteen full, and
believe me they are a joyous pair. The old fellow has been joyous for
about fifteen years.
The other two Légionnaires are Belgians and unimportant. Then we have
two Italians who remind me of brigands. One is a big husky fellow and
the other is a typical dramatic villain; good looking, dashing and all
that stuff. We have an Italian kid with us, but he is only a nuisance.
The two brigands take an interest in him to the extent of continually
kicking and cuffing him around. Well, as I was reading the magazine I
heard a noise in the yard and upon going out found the six-foot corporal
slugging the five-foot five Légionnaire. I was glad to see it because
the little fellow needs a beating. He talks too much. Weeks was out
there and did not like the unevenness of the fight so he interfered. The
big brigand then came up and hit the little Légionnaire a “beaut,”
knocking him across the yard. The little fellow got up just in time to
be knocked back across the yard, and the big fellow was going to repeat
the performance when Weeks interfered again.
By this time we were all out in the yard enjoying the fun. The argument
got pretty hot and finally, as usual, the peacemaker got a wallop in the
jaw. The American section acted as if they were all hit, and in fact
they were when one of them was hit. In a fraction of a second it was the
biggest free-for-all I was ever in or hope to be in. We battled around
the yard to a fare-you-well and in no time the guard was on the scene
with fixed bayonets, but we still kept on.
In a lull in the action I happened to look around in time to see the
villainous looking bandit picking up a brick. I made a bee-line for him
and in no time had received a good clout on my bean for my trouble. The
guards eventually separated us, but the Americans carried the day. They
started to take me to the lock-up but I landed at the infirmary and had
my head bandaged. They locked Pavelka up, but he should have come with
me, as a friend of the bandits hit him on the forehead with a dish pan.
He needed bandaging and soon was sent back for treatment. We all shook
hands and called it square.
The next day we marched to the railroad and came north. It was a
wretched trip as we were packed closely in freight cars and it took
twenty-four hours to come two hundred kilometres, being about one
hundred and twenty-five miles. We left the cars at a town called
Aubigny, which is about six miles due west of the village of La
Targette, but we located in a town nearer the front. At night we marched
to the trenches and worked there. It was very dangerous: the outposts
being about fifty yards apart. One night the second fellow from me was
hit in the stomach. It is good to work under such conditions, as work
takes the mind from the bullets; inaction under fire is a terrible
strain on the nerves.
We were in the trenches three days, worked all day and at night we went
out on the field and laid down four hours at a stretch, to guard against
a surprise. To make matters worse it rained and the mud was a foot deep
in places. We went back to a small town, arriving there at ten a. m.
We have everything in abundance. I have seen fellows throw shirts and
other articles away, rather than wash them, as new ones are always
given. There is actually more than enough of everything. We are living
like princes.
I was glad to hear that my letter from Bouzy was received. Allowance
must be made for the writing as it was done on a two-by-four-foot plank,
which I straddled, my feet dangling. We Americans were all interested in
the statement in the letter to me, that it has been said the Germans
would treat Foreign Légionnaires who were not citizens of France as
irregular soldiers; and the suggestions made for us to observe in case
of capture will be followed.
VI
BATTLE OF ARTOIS; AT LA TARGETTE AND NEUVILLE ST. VAAST
_Somewhere near Aubigny
May 16, 1915._
On Sunday morning, May 9th, we were routed out at one o’clock and
marched to the trenches, reaching the third line at sunrise, and at five
o’clock our artillery increased its already very severe bombardment,—the
continual rumble and vibration being beyond description. This lasted
until ten o’clock and as soon as it stopped, Battalion C in our section
left the trenches, charging with the bayonet.
They carried the trenches with great loss. I understand the Germans were
panic stricken by the bombardment and one of their battalions was buried
as the trenches collapsed under our heavy artillery fire.
Battalion A followed C and lost a great many; there are two Americans in
A, one of them is O. K. while the other was shot twice, in the shoulder
and in the leg.
Our Battalion B left the trenches right after A under a heavy rifle and
machine gun fire, the ground we crossed being well strewn with dead and
dying of Battalions C and A. We charged across fields in a line of
skirmishes, and I will never be able to satisfy myself how so many of us
got through safely.
When we reached the first line of German trenches we found them battered
and destroyed by our bombardment. Soon after crossing them our first
stop was in the shelter of a road. Here the good looking bandit, the
fellow who hit me with the brick, got reckless and tried to survey the
landscape; he was killed instantly by a bullet through the heart. No
convulsive tossing of the arms one reads about or sees in the movies—he
just sank down and it was all over. Soon after we left this position,
the other bandit was shot through the leg. There was absolutely no ill
feeling between us on account of our scrap.
We then laid down on the ground and soon the Germans got our range; six
men close to me were hit; so we started on again.
The German artillery had opened on us, and the suspense of lying there
and waiting to be hit is indescribable. The shells were bursting all
around me and one rushed by so close that I actually think a chunk of
solidified air hit me on the forehead; anyway, something bruised my
forehead. I rushed over and got into the hole, it was five feet deep. I
happened to be looking where four men were lying, when a shell blew the
four of them to dust.
In my letter from Lyon I mentioned three brothers from Argentina; they
were inseparable even in death; they were killed side by side.
We finally took the crest of a hill, it was dusk and we dug ourselves
in.
I shall never forget the picture displayed as I looked back across the
field in the fading light. It is a nightmare: during the entire night
the cries of the wounded rang out. I had a pleasant bedfellow,—a
corporal and he lay in the trench, only two feet away. He actually
fascinated me. I could not help looking at his brains which stuck out of
the back of his neck, exactly like two horns. During the next day they
gradually melted until at nightfall they had slid entirely off his neck.
Grand, grand indeed, is this butchery they call war!
During the night we were on the watch, and at times the fire from the
enemy, aided by the German night-lights, was severe.
As day broke Monday we were ready for the counter attack, which was sure
to come and it came early and fierce. Their artillery shelled us in a
most desperate manner, and men were killed and wounded in large numbers
and very close to me; and again the suspense of expecting to be hit by a
shell was horrible.
Bavarian troops were opposite and they made a rush for us, and I am
bound to acknowledge that no human beings could have shown more bravery
and determination than they did: but our artillery was most effective,
and we stood firm in our trenches and smeared them. Their counter
attacks all failed and that night we still held the trenches we had dug.
We were entirely out of water both Sunday and Monday, and as a
consequence suffered very much.
Early the next morning, before daybreak, reserves took our places and
what was left of our regiment returned to the rear for reorganization.
I laugh when I try to think of civilization. But with all we must admit
it is a great world and I do not regret that I am here.
_Somewhere near Aubigny,
May 20, 1915._
A sergeant was commanding our Company, all the officers having been
killed or wounded. Our captain was a very game man; he led us without a
sword or any side arms, only using his swagger stick. He was killed by a
shell.
We advanced by sections. When the order came we jumped up, and carrying
a sack as a shield, ran about one hundred feet,—and talk about Ty Cobb
sliding into second base, it isn’t a circumstance to the way I hit the
ground. And what a strain it was on the nerves waiting for our turn to
advance again, fellows all around being hit. In a couple of cases I have
seen men almost lifted from the ground, so hard were they struck. One
fellow very near me was hit and began to squeal, almost immediately a
second bullet hit him and he made for the rear on all fours crying like
a child. The field was full of such sights.
But compared to the shells the bullets are nothing: give me most
anything but an artillery bombardment. I cannot figure out how the five
of us missed being hit.
The prisoners we took were well fed and clothed, but are sick of the
war.
After the attack we were quartered in Mont St. Eloi, about two miles
west of La Targette, but as it was in range and the Germans shelled us,
we were sent ten miles to the rear to await recruits.
Our regiment lost heavily in killed and wounded, not half coming back.
The little Italian kid I previously mentioned was too frightened to
leave our trenches.
The six Americans of our squad, Larney, Rockwell, Pavelka, Smith, Weeks
and myself passed through safely, except Rockwell who was shot in the
leg. We learned he was cared for by our field ambulance.
VII
TO THE REAR FOR RECRUITING
_(Place Unknown),
June 10, 1915._
Soon after we were located at the rear to await recruits the General
commanding our Division reviewed us and distributed five military
medals.
We have a new Captain in the place of the one who was killed; he is a
Swede and is very military; he has us drilling a great deal, and works
us pretty hard, considering that we have smelt powder in the true sense
of the term.
We have just learned that Italy has entered the war; also, that an
American merchant-man has been torpedoed. We would like to see the
United States keep out of the war if it can.
On May 29th we returned to a location near the front, and lately many
German prisoners have passed us. One day as many as eight hundred went
by; they looked well. By a strange coincidence the same Bavarian troops
who faced us in Champagne are against us here, and yesterday we
recognized a man in their ranks who deserted from us in Champagne. I
guess it is all over with him; it should be.
It seems that our effort of May 9th was more successful than that of the
British. The German prisoners say they cannot stand our artillery fire.
I don’t blame them, as the French 75 centimeter field piece has proved
to be the wonder of the war.
We are all well; in fact I never felt better in my life.
I have just received the packages from New York and am thankful for
them. Socks are very desirable as we are on our feet a great part of the
time and I can rest easy now that I am well stocked with them. The soup
cubes were fine: we make soup every night before turning in. One of the
tooth brushes was broken in transit but the other comes in handy as the
one I brought from home is about used up. I am keeping the combs, but do
not use them, as during the hot weather our hair is cut very close with
the machine. Some fellows have their heads shaved, but I think that is
going too far. This idea of having the hair cut short is a good one as
it is very warm here now.
We spent four days in the trenches to the left of the ones the Legion
occupied prior to the attack of May 9th. Skipper Pavelka and I went all
through the devastated German trenches. I could find scarcely anything
as we were there nearly three weeks after the attack and countless
French soldiers had searched before us. I found some envelopes and
wrappers for parcel post packages with the German postage stamps
attached, and I send these to you; it will be seen the letters bear
Bavarian postage stamps, and are directed to Bavarian infantry soldiers.
The German trenches were built much better than ours. Some of the huts
in which the men lived were twenty feet under ground. They used a great
number of dirt sacks: there must be a shortage of strong material in
Germany, as these sacks were made mostly from cheap, light calico which
was hardly strong enough to hold the earth.
They had an extensive system of mines and we made the attack just in
time as Pavelka and I investigated the saps with the aid of a candle.
They were all loaded and wired ready to be set off. One of them had been
exploded. The Germans lost their bearings in digging, because the hole
was actually nearer their own lines than it was to ours. They used a
tremendous charge and the explosion must have been terrific for the
result reminded me of the crater of a volcano; it was easily thirty feet
deep.
Our bombardment before the attack of May 9th had played havoc with the
German trenches; a great number of the roofs on the huts had fallen
during the cannonading burying alive all the occupants. Around these
places the stench was horrible. All through these trenches was evidence
of heavy losses on the part of the Germans; at intervals, arms and legs
projected from the walls and floor of the trenches, and all in all it
was a pretty gruesome journey.
As a result of May 9th our line is advanced over two miles, but the
Germans hold a dangerous position on the side of a large hill and it
will be hard work chasing them off.
We have been out to dig trenches a couple of times and believe me we
sure do work. Imagine getting up and working on the ground about two
hundred and fifty yards from the German line with them shooting all the
time. Work! you bet the men work with a will and it does not take long
to get a good trench dug. They have a poor system here. We walk about
seven miles from this town where we are now to the first line, dig a
trench and walk back. We leave at six p. m. and get back at five a.
m.—the idea of walking seven miles to work.
There is not much left of the Legion of May 9th; the Italians have been
liberated to return to their own army. Our company had fifty-five men
out of a full company of two hundred and fifty, but we expect to be
filled up again with the men from Valbonne and Lyon. I should judge one
thousand have already been sent up here from those places.
Well, this war is a great game. The next person who mentions the glories
of war should be jumped on with both feet. Picture the charge with the
band playing and the men singing—what tommy-rot. In the first place the
instruments never get near the actual fighting, and in the second place
the men at that time don’t care a hang for a song.
We have some fun with the boxing gloves, a new set having been sent to
us from Paris. It is surprising to know how many good boxers there are
around here. The other day two Zouaves who weighed about one hundred and
eighty pounds each turned up and were very clever. One had boxed for the
amateur championship of Tunis. They would give many professional
fighters a run for the money. Two French cavalrymen had a bout that
resulted in a knockout.
Time surely does fly: here it is nearly eight months since the old
Goddess of Liberty disappeared into the distance in New York bay. It
does not seem possible.
The ball that hit Rockwell’s leg just missed the bone, so he is
recovering rapidly and hopes to be back with us soon.
We are all in the best of health and getting plenty to eat. We are
unanimous in wishing for the war to end soon. Those who clamor for war
the most in the States are those who know nothing about it. War is an
asinine waste and I take my hat off to President Wilson for his level
headedness.[4]
Footnote 4:
The above was the last letter received; the communication on the
following page was written on a military postal card.
_(Place Unknown)
June 15, 1915._
Dear Dad:
All well. Received your letter of May 30, 1915. We were there all right.
Will write later. Love to all.
RUSSELL.
* * * * *
The First Regiment was cited in the official Order of the Day, as
follows:
“The First Foreign Regiment of the Second _régiment de Marche_,
ordered May 9th under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Cot to make
a bayonet charge on a strong German position, went into the attack,
the officers leading in front of the men, with a superb gallantry,
gaining, with only brief stops, several kilometres of ground, in
spite of an extremely strong resistance of the enemy and a violent
fire from his machine guns.”
_Le Figaro_ of Paris, May 18th, 1915, contains an article from which the
following translation is an extract, under the heading, “Nos succés du 9
mai dans le secteur, Carency-Neuville.”
“The attack on La Targette, led by a division of the army corps from
the neighborhood, mentioned in the army order, was conducted with a
remarkable boldness and was a complete success.
“The artillery had, by its fire, demolished a large part of the
barb-wire and other accessories of the defence. A certain number of
mitrailleuses had escaped destruction, and the enemy continued to
hold them.
“At the first assault our infantry reached the border of the woods,
but it was stopped there by fire on the flank. The infantry resumed
the attack immediately and took a part of the trenches at ten
o’clock; which it held, and at a quarter past eleven took all of La
Targette and three hundred and fifty prisoners, many pieces of
seventy-seven and a large number of mitrailleuses.
“Holding La Targette, they were masters of the cross-roads of
Arras-Béthune and Mont Saint-Eloi-Neuville.
“They reformed rapidly, thanks to the heroic work of the engineer
corps, and advanced upon Neuville.
“This village presents itself in the form of a point. It was, as an
officer expressed it, 'a real bundle of mitrailleuses and of
lancebombs.’ The assault was, however, made and about three o’clock
we attacked the church.
“From each loopholed house, from each cellar organized into a
covered trench, the enemy fired on our men. They conquered, however,
house by house, half of the village, and in spite of all
counter-attacks we held the captured ground. It was a tremendous
struggle amidst the wreckage and smoke.
“Every minute augmented the number of prisoners. We saw them rush
out from their hiding places, reckless of safety, stupefied by our
bombardment, dumbfounded by our dash, and in a moment, towards the
other side of the village some columns were detached, and our
cavalry conducted the prisoners towards the rear, to the great joy
of the population.
“Behold the road of Béthune: a new attack. The battalions in the
lead scaled the slope at the east and behind them, the others
arriving, killed and despatched all whom they encountered.
“Our officers fell in great numbers. Of four chiefs of battalions
there was not more than one left. One of the colonels is seriously
wounded. The general of the brigade who led in advance of his
troops, had his chest pierced by a ball.
“It made no difference, they went on with redoubled ardor. The men
came at a gymnastic pace, leaped over the trenches, attacked the
crest and the very crown of the crest.
“The courier started, reached the telephonic post and sent in an
account. One can hardly believe it. It was done; more than four
kilometres gained (two and a half miles).
“Never before in this war of a siege which has lasted for seven
months, has a like success been obtained either by the Germans or by
us. A German colonel was taken prisoner at his post of command.
Behind our victorious battalions, our forces gathered up and
unearthed from their burrows hundreds of Germans. We destroyed or
captured, substantially, a whole brigade.”
VIII
SUPPLEMENTARY
_Battle of Artois—Souchez—Hill No. 119._
No communication has been received from Russell Kelly since his postal
card of June 15th, mentioned in the foregoing chapter. He took part with
his regiment in the battle on the following day, and since then has been
missing, and his name is still carried on the French War Office Official
list of missing. As the reader may be interested in the subsequent
occurrences, the following facts are given.
The battle of Waterloo occurred on June 18, 1815, and as its centenary
approached the public expected an unusual effort would be made in
commemoration of that momentous event.
Whether or not the warring powers gave any heed to this circumstance, is
not known, but preparations were made by the Allies before that date, on
a most extensive scale, for a formidable effort to break through the
German lines in France.
On June 15th the soldiers of the Legion were each given one hundred
extra rounds of ammunition; these they carried in their _meusettes_ or
haversacks; their belts contained the regular allowance of two hundred
and fifty rounds. New underclothing and shirts were furnished to the
troops that day, so that those who might be wounded would be less liable
to contract the dreaded tetanus. A special mass was celebrated that day
and the Catholic soldiers attended to their religious duties. Many of
the soldiers made provision for the event of disaster. John Smith left
an envelope with instructions that it be opened if he did not return
from the attack. When it was opened it was found to contain a statement
that his real name was John Earl Fike, and it gave his mother’s name and
address, with a request that she be notified of his fate. Lawrence
Scanlan also left written directions for notifying his mother and
Russell Kelly sent the postal card given on page 99.
The extreme northerly end of the French line of battle was then at
Souchez and that position was held by one battalion of Zouaves, about
one thousand men; next to them was the Second _régiment de Marche_ of
the First Foreign Regiment, consisting of about four thousand men. In
this last regiment was of course our five Americans, the sixth,
Rockwell, being then in hospital.
An Irish regiment was on the extreme southerly end of the English line,
and thus joined with the French Zouaves.