commander. The town looks thoroughly mediæval as you approach. It might
well have been over its castle wall that Kingsley's knight spurred his
horse on his last leap; as a matter of fact the village of Altenahr, where
the poet laid the scene, is not so many miles away. The town is built
along the ragged cliffs lining a deep, rocky canyon spanned by old stone
bridges. The massive entrance-gates open upon passages tunnelled through
the hills, and although the modern part of the town boasts broad streets
and squares, there are many narrow passageways winding around the ancient
quarter.
I went into a large bookstore to replenish my library, and was struck by
the supply of post-cards of Marshal Foch and Kitchener and the King and
Queen of Belgium. All had been printed in Leipzig, and when I asked the
bookseller how that could be, he replied that he got them from the German
commercial travellers. He said that he had himself been surprised at the
samples shown him, but the salesman had remarked that he thought such
post-cards would have a good sale in Luxemburg, and if such were the case
"business was business," and he was prepared to supply them. There was
even one of King Albert standing with drawn sword, saying: "You shall not
violate the sacred soil of my country." A publication that also interested
me was a weekly paper brought out in Hamburg and written in English. It
was filled with jokes, beneath which were German notes explaining any
difficult or idiomatic words and phrases. With all their hatred of England
the Huns still continued to learn English.
Thanksgiving Day came along, and we set to work to provide some sort of a
special feast for the men. It was most difficult to do so, for the
exchange had not as yet been regulated and the lowest rate at which we
could get marks was at a franc, and usually it was a franc and a quarter.
Some one opportunely arrived from Paris with a few hundred marks that he
had bought at sixty centimes. For the officers we got a suckling pig,
which Mess Sergeant Braun roasted in the priest's oven. He even put the
traditional baked apple in its mouth, a necessary adjunct, the purpose of
which I have never discovered, and such stuffing as he made has never been
equalled. We washed it down with excellent Moselle wine, for we were but a
couple of miles from the vineyards along the river. In the afternoon I
borrowed a bicycle from the burgomaster and trailed over to Elmen, where I
found my brother just about to sit down to his Thanksgiving dinner served
up by two faithful Chinamen, who had come to his regiment in a draft from
the West Coast. After doing full justice to his fare I wended my way back
to Trintange in the rain and dark.
The next day we paid the men. For some it was the first time in ten
months. To draw pay it was necessary to sign the pay-roll at the end of
one month and be on hand at the end of the following month to receive the
money. No one could sign unless his service record was at hand, and as
this was forwarded to the hospital "through military channels" when a man
was evacuated sick or wounded, it rarely reached his unit until several
months after he returned. It may easily be seen why it was that an
enlisted man often went for months without being able to draw his pay.
This meant not only a hardship to him while he was without money, but, it
also followed that when he got it he had a greater amount than he could
possibly need, and was more than apt to gamble or drink away his sudden
accession of wealth. We always tried to make a man who had drawn a lot of
back pay deposit it or send it home. Mr. Harlow, the Y.M.C.A. secretary
attached to the regiment, helped us a great deal in getting the money
transferred to the United States. The men, unless they could spend their
earnings immediately, would start a game of craps and in a few days all
the available cash would have found its way into the pocket of the
luckiest man. They would throw for appallingly high stakes. On this
particular pay-day we knew that the supply of wine and beer in the village
was not sufficient to cause any serious trouble, and orders were given
that no cognac or hard liquor should be sold. A few always managed to get
it--all precautions to the contrary notwithstanding.
II
On the 1st of December we once more resumed our march and at Wormeldange
crossed over the Moselle River into Hunland. The streets of the first town
through which we passed were lined with civilians, many of them only just
out of uniform, and they scowled at us as we rode by, muttering below
their breath. A short way out and we began to meet men still in the
field-gray uniform; they smiled and tried to make advances but our men
paid no attention. When we reached Onsdorf, which was our destination, the
billeting officer reported that he had met with no difficulty.
The inhabitants were most effusive and anxious to please in every way. Of
course they were not Prussians, and no doubt were heartily tired and sick
of war, but here, as throughout, their attitude was most distasteful to
us--it was so totally lacking in dignity. We could not tell how much they
were acting on their own initiative and to what extent they were following
instructions. Probably there was something of both back of their conduct.
Warnings had been issued that the Germans were reported to be planning a
wholesale poisoning of American officers, but I never saw anything to
substantiate the belief.
Next morning we struck across to the Saar River and followed it down to
its junction with the Moselle. The woods and ravines were lovely, but from
the practical standpoint the going was very hard upon the horses. We
marched down through Treves, the oldest town in Germany, with a population
of about thirty thousand. In the fourth century of our era Ausonius
referred to it as "Rome beyond the Alps," and the extent and variety of
the Roman remains would seem to justify the epithet. We were halted for
some time beside the most remarkable of these, the Porta Nigra, a huge
fortified gateway, dating from the first century A.D. The cathedral is an
impressive conglomeration of the architecture of many different
centuries--the oldest portion being a part of a Roman basilica of the
fourth century, while the latest additions of any magnitude were made in
the thirteenth. Most famous among its treasures is the "holy coat of
Treves," believed by the devout to be the seamless garment worn by Christ
at the crucifixion. The predominant religion of the neighborhood is the
Roman Catholic, and on the occasions when the coat is exhibited the town
is thronged by countless pilgrims.
Leaving Treves we continued down along the river-bank to Rawen Kaulin,
where we turned inland for a few miles and I was assigned to a village
known as Eitelsbach. The inhabitants were badly frightened when we rode
in--most of the men hid and the women stood on the door-steps weeping. I
suppose they expected to be treated in the manner that they had behaved to
the French and Belgians, and as they would have done by us had the
situation been reversed. When they found they were not to be oppressed
they became servile and fawning. I had my officers' mess in the
schoolmaster's house. He had been a non-commissioned officer of infantry,
and yet he wanted to send his daughters in to play the piano for us after
dinner. We would have despised the German less if he had been able to
"hate" a little more after he was beaten and not so bitterly while he felt
he was winning.
The country through which we marched during the next few days was most
beautiful. We followed the winding course of the river, making many a
double "S" turn. The steep hills came right to the bank; frequently the
road was cut into their sides. A village was tucked in wherever a bit of
level plain between the foot of the hill and the river permitted. When the
slopes gave a southern exposure they were covered with grape-vines,
planted with the utmost precision and regularity. Every corner and cranny
among the rocks was utilized. The original planting must have been
difficult, for the soil was covered with slabs of shale. The cultivator
should develop excellent lungs in scaling those hillsides. The leaves had
fallen and the bare vines varied in hue from sepia brown to wine color,
with occasional patches of evergreen to set off the whole. Once or twice
the road left the river to cut across over the mountains, and it cost our
horses much exertion to drag the limbers up the steep, slippery trail. It
was curious to notice the difference between those who dwelt along the
bank and the inhabitants of the upland plateau. The latter appeared
distinctly more "outlandish" and less sleek and prosperous. The highlands
we found veiled in mist, and as I looked back at the dim outlines of horse
and man and caisson, it seemed as if I were leading a ghost battery.
We were in the heart of the wine country, and to any one who had enjoyed a
good bottle of Moselle such names as Berncastel and Piesport had long been
familiar. In the former town I was amused on passing by a large millinery
store to see the proprietor's name was Jacob Astor. The little villages
inevitably recalled the fairy-tales of Hans Andersen and the Grimm
brothers. The raftered houses had timbered balconies that all but met
across the crooked, winding streets through which we clattered over the
cobblestones. Capping many of the beams were gargoyles, demons, and
dwarfs, and a galaxy of strange creatures were carved on the ends of the
gables that jutted out every which way. The houses often had the date
they were built and the initials of the couple that built them over the
front door, frequently with some device. I saw no dates that went further
back than the late sixteen hundreds, though many of the houses doubtless
were built before then. The doors in some cases were beautifully carved
and weathered. The old pumps and wells, the stone bridges, and the little
wayside shrines took one back through the centuries. To judge by the
records carved on wall and house, high floods are no very uncommon
occurrence--the highest I noticed was in 1685, while the last one of
importance was credited to 1892.
We were much surprised at the well-fed appearance of the population, both
old and young, for we had heard so much of food shortages, and the Germans
when they surrendered had laid such stress upon it. As far as we could
judge; food was more plentiful than in France. Rubber and leather were
very scarce, many of the women wore army boots, and the shoes displayed in
shop-windows appeared made of some composition resembling pasteboard. The
coffee was evidently ground from the berry of some native bush, and its
taste in no way resembled the real. Cigars were camouflaged
cabbage-leaves, with little or no flavor, and the beer sadly fallen off
from its pre-war glory. Still, in all the essentials of life the
inhabitants appeared to be making out far better than we had been given to
believe.
We met with very little trouble. There were a few instances where people
tried to stand out against having men billeted in their houses, but we of
course paid no attention except that we saw to it that they got more men
than they would have under ordinary circumstances. Every now and then we
would have amusing side-lights upon the war news on which the more
ignorant Boches had been fed. A man upon whom several of my sergeants were
quartered asked them if the Zeppelins had done much damage to New York;
and whether Boston and Philadelphia had yet been evacuated by the
Germans--he had heard that both cities had been taken and that Washington
was threatened and its fall imminent.
Our men behaved exceedingly well. Of course there were individual cases of
drunkenness, but very few considering that we were in a country where the
wine was cheap and schnapps plentiful. There were the inevitable
A.W.O.L.'s and a number of minor offenses, but I found that by making the
prisoner's life very unattractive--seeing to it that they performed
distasteful "fatigues," giving them heavy packs to carry when we marched,
and allowing them nothing that could be construed as a delicacy--I soon
reformed the few men that were chronically shiftless or untidy or late.
When not in cantonments the trouble with putting men under arrest is that
too often it only means that they lead an easier life than their comrades,
and it takes some ingenuity to correct this situation. Whenever it was in
any way possible an offender was dealt with in the battery and I never let
it go further, for I found it made for much better spirit in a unit.
The men were a fine lot, and such thoroughgoing Americans, no matter from
what country their parents had come. One of my buglers had landed in the
United States only in 1913; he had been born and brought up on the
confines of Germany and Austria, and yet when a large German of whom he
was asking the way said, "You speak the language well--your parents must
be German," the unhesitating reply was: "Well, my mother was of German
descent!" The battery call read like a League of Nations, but no one could
have found any cause of complaint in lack of loyalty to the United
States.
The twelfth day after we had crossed over the river from Luxemburg found
us marching into Coblenz. We were quartered in large brick barracks in the
outskirts of the city. The departing Germans had left them in very bad
shape, and Hercules would have felt that cleaning the Augean stables was a
light task in comparison. However, we set to work without delay and soon
had both men and horses well housed. Life in the town was following its
normal course; the stores were well stocked and seemed to be doing a
thriving trade. We went into a café where a good orchestra was playing and
had some very mediocre war beer, and then I set off in search of the
Turkish bath of which I was much in need. The one I found was in charge of
an ex-submarine sailor, and when I was shut in the steam-room I wondered
if he were going to try any "frightfulness," for I was the only person in
the bath. My last one had been in a wine-vat a full week before, and I was
ready to risk anything for the luxury of a good soak.
Orders to march usually reached us at midnight--why, I do not know; but we
would turn in with the belief that we would not move on the following
day, and the next we knew an orderly from regimental headquarters would
wake us with marching instructions, and in no happy frame of mind we would
grumblingly tumble out to issue the necessary commands. Coblenz proved no
exception to this rule. As we got under way, a fine rain was falling that
was not long in permeating everything. Through the misty dripping town the
"caissons went rolling along," and out across the Pfaffendorf bridge, with
the dim outlines of the fortress of Ehrenbreitstein towering above us. The
men were drowsy and cold. I heard a few disparaging comments on the size
of the Rhine. They had heard so much talk about it that they had expected
to find it at least as large as the Mississippi. We found the slippery
stones of the street ascending from the river most difficult to negotiate,
but at length everything was safely up, and we struck off toward the
bridge-head position which we were to occupy for we knew not how long. The
Huns had torn down the sign-posts at the crossroads; with what intent I
cannot imagine, for the roads were not complicated and were clearly
indicated on the maps, and the only purpose that the sign-posts could
serve was to satisfy a curiosity too idle to cause us to calculate by map
how far we had come or what distance lay still before us. A number of
great stone slabs attracted our attention; they had been put up toward the
close of the eighteenth century and indicated the distance in hours. I
remember one that proclaimed it was three hours to Coblenz and eighteen to
Frankfort. I have never seen elsewhere these records of an age when time
did not mean money.
The march was in the nature of an anticlimax, for we had thought always of
Coblenz as our goal, and the good fortune in which we had played as
regarded weather during our march down the valley of the Moselle had made
us supercritical concerning such details as a long, wearisome slogging
through the mud in clumsy, water-logged clothes. At length we reached the
little village of Niederelbert and found that Lieutenant Brown, whose turn
it was as billeting officer, had settled us so satisfactorily that in a
short time we were all comfortably steaming before stoves, thawing out our
cramped joints.
With the exception of Lieutenant Furness my officers belonged to the
Reserve Corps, and we none of us looked forward to a long tour of garrison
duty on the Rhine or anywhere else. Furness, who had particularly
distinguished himself in liaison work with the infantry, held a temporary
commission in the regular army, but he was eager to go back to civil life
at the earliest opportunity. In Germany the prospect was doubly gloomy,
for there would be no intercourse with the natives such as in France had
lightened many a weary moment. Several days later regimental headquarters
coveted our village and we were moved a few miles off across the hills to
Holler. We set to work to make ourselves as snug and comfortable as
possible. I had as striker a little fellow of Finnish extraction name
Jahoola, an excellent man in every way, who took the best of care of my
horse and always managed to fix up my billet far better than the
circumstances would seem to permit.
The days that followed presented little variety once the novelty of the
occupation had worn off. The men continued to behave in exemplary fashion,
and the Boche gave little trouble. As soon as we took up our quarters we
made the villagers clean up the streets and yards until they possessed a
model town, and thereafter we "policed up" every untidiness of which we
might be the cause, and kept the inhabitants up to the mark in what
concerned them. The head of the house in which I was lodged in
Niederelbert told me that his son had been a captain in the army but had
deserted a fortnight before the armistice and reached home in civilian
clothes three weeks in advance of the retreating army. Of course he was
not an officer before the war--not of the old military school, but the
fact that he and his family were proud of it spoke of a weakening
discipline and morale.
Now that we had settled down to a routine existence I was doubly glad of
such books as I had been able to bring along. Of these, O. Henry was the
most popular. The little shilling editions were read until they fell to
pieces, and in this he held the same position as in the British army. I
had been puzzled at this popularity among the English, for much of his
slang must have been worse than Greek to them. I also had _Charles
O'Malley_ and _Harry Lorrequer_, Dumas' _Dame de Monsereau_ and _Monte
Cristo_, Flaubert's _Education Sentimentale_, Gibbon's _Rise and Fall_,
and Borrow's _Zincali_. These with the Oxford Books of French and English
verse and a few Portuguese and Spanish novels comprised my library, a
large one considering the circumstances. It was always possible to get
books through the mail, although they were generally many months en route.
Soon after we reached the bridge-head, officers of the regular army began
turning up from the various schools whither they had been sent as
instructors. We all hoped to be released in this manner, for we felt that
the garrison duty should be undertaken by the regulars, whose life
business it is, in order to allow the men who had left their trades and
professions to return to their normal and necessary work. In the meantime
we set out to familiarize ourselves with the country and keep our units in
such shape that should any unforeseen event arise we would be in a
position to meet it. The horses required particular attention, but one
felt rewarded on seeing their improvement. There were many cases of mange
which we had been hitherto unable to properly isolate, and good fodder in
adequate quantity was an innovation.
For the men we had mounted and unmounted drill, and spent much time in
getting the accoutrements into condition for inspection. During part of
the march up rations had been short, and for a number of days were very
problematical. Sufficient boots and clothing were also lacking and we had
had to get along as best we could without. Now that we were stationary our
wants were supplied, and the worst hardship for the men was the lack of
recreation. A reading-room was opened and a piano was procured, but there
was really no place to send them on short passes; nothing for them to do
on an afternoon off. When I left, trips down the Rhine were being planned,
and I am sure they proved beneficial in solving the problem of legitimate
relaxation and amusement.
My father had sent my brother and myself some money to use in trying to
make Christmas a feast-day for the men. It was difficult to get anything,
but the Y.M.C.A. very kindly helped me out in procuring, chocolates and
cigarettes, and I managed to buy a couple of calves and a few
semi-delicacies in the local market. While not an Arabian Night feast, we
had the most essential adjunct in the good spirits of the men, who had
been schooled by their varied and eventful existence of the past eighteen
months to make the most of things.
In the middle of January my brother and I left for Paris. I was very sorry
to leave the battery, for we had been through much together, but in common
with most reserve officers I felt that, now that the fighting was over,
there was only one thing to be desired and that was to get back to my wife
and children. The train made light of the distance over which it had taken
us so long to march, and the familiar sight of the friendly French towns
was never more welcome. After several months on duty in France and Italy,
I sailed on a transport from Brest, but not for the wonderful home-coming
to which I had so long looked forward.