The Iron Division, National Guard of Pennsylvania, in the World War Part 17

The hospitals took position during the night and erected their tents, so they would not be subject to air bombing before the attack and so their presence would not betray the concentration of forces. French officers who pa.s.sed along the American front inspecting it the night before the a.s.sault were amazed at this concentration, and so were the field hospital men when the bombardment was started and they found themselves far ahead of the big guns. In the morning they discovered, to their astonishment, that they had been thrust in between the first line of infantry and the support.

Throughout the Argonne fighting, as they had done from the beginning of the division's activities, they performed their work in as thorough and capable a manner as did any of the organizations in the division, and found their chief recompense in the grat.i.tude of the wounded and suffering who pa.s.sed through their hands.

As the two Pennsylvania columns battered their way forward, a double liaison service was maintained between them, first by patrols of men and second by telephone communication. The service of communication was presided over by Colonel Walter C. Sweeney, chief of the divisional staff, originally a Philadelphian, but now hailing from Virginia.

The circuit of communication was not broken once, largely because of the alertness and ability of Lieutenant-Colonel Sydney A. Hagerling, of Pittsburgh, the divisional signal officer, and the staunch, untiring and efficient work of the 103d Field Signal Battalion. Each brigade commander knew always precisely how far the other had advanced. Both regular army men, they united in giving full credit for the remarkably successful advance to the high quality of the troops, the superb handling of the artillery by Brigadier-General Price and the unexcelled teamwork of officers and men of each branch of the service and of branch with branch.

At one time, emphasizing this remarkable spirit within the division, Major-General Muir appeared in the front lines one morning, just as the first wave of infantrymen was about to go over in a charge against a machine gun nest. Standing talking to the regimental commander, General Muir fidgeted for a few moments and then said:

"I think I'll command one of those companies myself."

To the amazement and great glee of officers and men, he did, the commander of the chosen company acting as second in command. Enemy sh.e.l.ls landed all about the General, who manifested as much agility and energy as the youngest private. A sh.e.l.l fell within twenty-five feet of him, but fortunately it was a "dud," or one which failed to explode.

There was vicious machine gun fire all about, but the nest was cleaned out and prisoners and guns were captured. General Muir rejoined the Colonel. He was breathing hardly faster than usual as he remarked:

"That was fine! It took me back to the old days in the Philippines."

A few days later, the General was out again among the troops, accompanied by Colonel Sweeney, Captain Theodore D. Boal, of Boalsburg, Pa., Lieutenant Edward Hoopes, of West Chester, and Corporal Olin McDonald, of Sunbury, all of his staff.

German planes were hovering overhead and suddenly one of them dropped like a plummet to a few hundred feet above the ground and began to spit machine gun bullets at the group. A wounded soldier had just come out of the woods, stood his rifle against a tree and started back to a first aid station. General Muir seized the rifle, took careful aim at the flyer, about three hundred feet above, and fired twice. Whether he scored a hit could not be determined, but the airman fled after the second shot.

In the course of the advance, the artillery went forward in echelons.

That is, batteries from the rear moved up and took position in advance of other batteries which maintained the fire, pa.s.sing between the guns on their way. After they were in position to fire, the one farther back ceased fire and the process was repeated.

The Pennsylvania artillery cut a swath two miles wide through the forest, doing their work so thoroughly that beautiful green hills which could be descried by powerful gla.s.ses in the distance were, by the time the beholders reached them, nothing but sh.e.l.l-pitted, blackened mounds, ragged with beards of shattered and splintered trees, looking for all the world, as men from the Pennsylvania mountain country observed, like the hills at home after a forest fire.

When the artillery reached Varennes, which was, of course, not until after the infantry had gone far beyond, they ran into a severe enemy sh.e.l.ling. On October 2d, First Sergeant T. O. Mader, of Audenried, Luzerne county, a member of Battery A, 109th Artillery, performed the deeds which won for him official citation and the Distinguished Service Cross.

He helped to guide sections of the battery over a sh.e.l.l-swept road, when the fire was so severe that eight men were wounded and ten horses killed. The horse that Sergeant Mader rode was killed under him. The driver of a swing team had difficulty in controlling the horses of a section and Sergeant Mader sent him to another section and himself took charge of the fractious team. He continued with the section until he was so badly wounded he was unable to control the frantic horses. He refused to have his wounds treated, however, and continued to direct the gun carriages to places of safety. Then, disregarding his own condition, he requested the medical officers to give first attention to other wounded men. The official citation declared that "Sergeant Mader's conduct was an inspiration to the men of his battery."

Another "second in command" was put out of action at this time, Lieutenant-Colonel Olin F. Harvey, of the 109th Artillery, being severely wounded in the leg by a sh.e.l.l fragment.

Beyond Varennes, the infantry found the going harder than before--much harder than anything they had encountered since going to France. The Germans had their backs to their boasted Brunnhilde line and fought with the desperation of despair to hold off the advancing Americans until their vast armies in the north could extricate themselves from the net Marshal Foch had spread for them with such consummate skill.

Montblaineville and Baulny presented but temporary problems to troops flushed with victory, and they pushed on toward Apremont, below which they suffered the first serious check of the drive. Once more there was need for tremendous effort and heroic endeavor and once more the Pennsylvania troops measured up to the need. Men who had distinguished themselves on the Marne, the Ourcq, the Vesle and Aisne lived n.o.bly up to the reputations for bravery they had already established, and they were emulated in inspiring style by men whose names had not before figured in the division's record of honor.

The trench mortar battery of the artillery brigade was rivaled by men of the trench mortar platoons attached to the headquarters companies of the various infantry regiments, who carried their heavy weapons through the almost fathomless mud, in and out of sh.e.l.l craters, exhausted by the heat of the days and the bone-chilling cold of the nights. In spite of their heavy burdens, the mortar platoons always were close at hand when the infantry stopped, baffled by the mazes of wire, and called for the "flying pigs" to open a path.

Men of every regiment filled stellar roles in this smas.h.i.+ng advance.

Lieutenant G.o.dfrey Smith, of Gwynedd Valley, Pa., overcame innumerable obstacles and pa.s.sed through many dangers to establish and maintain telephone communication between the advance posts and the rear areas of the 112th Infantry. Color-Sergeant Miles Shoup, of Braddock, had charge of the runners and liaison work and displayed great personal bravery.

Shoup had the reputation among the other men of bearing a charmed life and he was termed "a remarkable soldier" by more than one officer. In the advance of the morning of September 28th, Colonel Dubb became separated and Shoup volunteered to search for him. He located the Colonel after pa.s.sing unscathed through a terrific artillery and machine gun fire, then returned the same way and organized additional runners to keep the communications intact.

At night the Germans suddenly opened a smart barrage with big guns and men of the 112th became scattered. Lieutenant Smith a.s.sembled the men while the fire was going on, finding them in various shelters. It was necessary to wear masks because the Boche was mixing an occasional gas sh.e.l.l with his shrapnel and high explosives, but Lieutenant Smith persisted until he had returned the men to their various battalion positions and reorganized the companies.

On another occasion, Lieutenant Smith was laying telephone wire with a detail of headquarters company men. When the supply of wire ran out, he crawled through the woods to a German telephone line, within a short distance of German positions, cut the wire and brought back enough to continue laying his own line.

An officer of the 112th noticed that every time he called for a runner from any one of three companies, it was always the same man who responded. The man was Private Charles J. Ryan, of Harrisburg, a member of Company I. When a lull came in the activity, the officer investigated in person, because the men a.s.signed to act as runners should have taken turns and he suspected the others were imposing on Ryan, which is subversive of discipline. To his amazement, he learned from the unanimous accounts of all the men, including Ryan, that the latter had insisted that the other runners should let him take all the a.s.signments to duty. The officer put a stop to the method.

France puts her clergymen into the army as fighting men, on the same basis as any other men. America exempts men of the cloth from military service, but offers them an opportunity to serve their country and humanity, as well as their calling, by acting as chaplains to the fighting men. As such, they are supposed to have nothing to do with the fighting. But there come times, in the heat and rush of battle, when quick action by the nearest man of ability and judgment points the way to victory.

Such an occasion arose on the second day of the Argonne drive, when all the officers of a battalion of the 111th Infantry were incapacitated.

Lieutenant Charles G. Conaty, of Boston, a Catholic priest who was a chaplain in the 111th, was the only commissioned officer remaining with the battalion. He promptly jumped into the breach and led the men in a victorious charge. Lieutenant Conaty had not long recovered at that time from the effects of gas which he inhaled while working close to the lines in the Marne-Vesle drive.

A German sniper wounded the "bunkie" of Thomas Corry, of Pittsburgh, a member of Company I, 111th Infantry. Corry started out to stalk the sniper in revenge. He spent the whole day at it and returned with half a dozen prisoners, all the snipers he had found except the ones who showed fight and had to be killed.

A major of the 111th at one time sent a runner to the 109th machine gun battalion to ask for immediate a.s.sistance. Company B of the gunners, under Captain Daniel Burke Strickler, of Columbia, Pa., set out at once with a guide. They followed the guide over one hill, but saw no sign either of the enemy or a hard-pressed battalion of their own men. At the bottom of the next hill, Captain Strickler called a halt and asked the guide if he were sure the battalion was at the top.

The guide replied that they were hardly 100 yards away and started up the hill alone to make sure. He had gone not more than twenty feet when a masked machine gun battery opened up and the guide was shot to ribbons. Captain Strickler ascertained the location of the infantry lines from a wounded man who happened along on his way to the rear and started for them.

The infantry, however, had been having a hard time and had been directed to retire while the artillery laid down a barrage. Unaware of this, Captain Strickler led his men up the hill and walked into the edge of our own barrage, but the company escaped without the loss of a man.

The effect of the American pressure now was being felt far behind the German front lines, as was evidenced by the sheets of flame by night and clouds of smoke by day which signaled the burning of heaps of stores and the explosion of ammunition dumps far to the north.

Advancing around Apremont, the 111th ran into difficulties and was delayed. Runners carried the word to the 55th Brigade and Captain Meehan and a battalion of the 109th were detached and sent over to help. They cleaned out the Bois de la T'Aibbe, which was strongly garrisoned and offered a next to impregnable front, so that when the 111th disposed of its immediate difficulties it was able to move up to the same front as the rest of the regiments.

CHAPTER XIX

ENSANGUINED APREMONT

The taking of Apremont was the greatest struggle the division had in its fighting career. Much has been said and written during the war of "the blood-soaked fields of France" and "streams of blood." Officers who were at Apremont solemnly vouch for the fact that there was a time in that town when the water running in the gutters was bright red with blood.

And not all of it was German blood.

The town was held in force, much as Fismes and Fismette had been, and presented much the same problem. So strong was the position that every approach to it was covered by heavy concentrations of machine guns and snipers. No longer were one or two Germans left in a nest to fire many guns as fast as they could. The enemy had brought up strong reinforcements of comparatively fresh troops and gave every evidence of a determination to stand. Not until compelled to by superior force did he let go, and then it was only to launch one counter-attack after another.

It was at this time that Sergeant Andrew B. Lynch, of Philadelphia, won his Distinguished Service Cross by a remarkable piece of daring and self-sacrifice. A member of the headquarters company of the 110th Infantry, he was on duty with the one-pounder section of his company in a position slightly north of the village. Under orders he removed his guns to the rear and, after establis.h.i.+ng the new position, was told that his commanding officer, Lieutenant Meyer S. Jacobs, had been taken prisoner.

Sergeant Lynch and Corporal Robert F. Jeffery, of Sagamore, Pa., organized a rescue party of five and instantly moved forward and attacked a German patrol of thirty-six men who had Lieutenant Jacobs in custody. Fifteen of the Germans were killed and Sergeant Lynch personally took three prisoners and released his Lieutenant, unwounded.

Immediately after the return to the American lines, Sergeant Lynch took command of seventy-five of his company who had been held in reserve.

Drawing his revolver, the sergeant commanded the men to follow him, launched a fresh attack, drove the enemy back two-thirds of a mile and established a new line in a ravine northwest of the village. The official citation when he was awarded his cross remarked that "Sergeant Lynch's conduct exemplified the greatest courage, judgment and leaders.h.i.+p."

Lieutenant John V. Merrick, of Roxborough, Philadelphia, with D Company of the 110th Infantry, had gained an objective to which he had been a.s.signed and was holding the western end of a ravine near Apremont. He found his men were subjected to both a frontal and an enfilading fire and were without proper shelter. He ordered a withdrawal to a safer position and while doing so he was struck through the elbow and hand by machine gun bullets.

Suffering intense pain, he declined to be evacuated and for two hours bravely and skilfully directed his men and brought them back to the company, together with stragglers from other units, who attached themselves to his party.

Captain Charles L. McLain, of Indiana, Pa., who had distinguished himself below the Marne, again came into prominence at Apremont. He learned that Company C, 110th, was without officers. His own company was in reserve. There was no superior officer at hand, so without orders he turned over command of his own company to a junior officer, took command of the orphaned C Company and led the first wave in a hot attack. He was wounded in the leg, but continued at the head of his men, hobbling along with the aid of a cane, until his objective was reached. Then he allowed them to send him to a hospital. Both he and Lieutenant Merrick recovered from their wounds and rejoined their regiment.

In the fighting close to the village of Apremont, the men used sh.e.l.l craters instead of digging trenches, organizing them as strong points.

An attack on the German positions was planned for 5.30 o'clock in the morning. About three hundred Pennsylvania infantrymen in the town were awaiting a barrage which should clear the way for them to advance.

Oddly enough, the Germans had planned an attack for almost the same time. The Pennsylvanians were heavily supported by machine guns. The Germans launched their attack first and the result was better for the Pennsylvanians than they had expected to achieve in their own attack and was won with less cost. The Germans came straight at the sh.e.l.l craters and were mowed down in rows. Those that managed to get by ran into the waiting infantry in the town and those who survived that fight turned and fled, right past the machine guns in the sh.e.l.l holes again. It was pitiable, officers said later, or would have been if the Americans had not realized that the Germans had so much to answer for. Hardly a handful of the several hundred Germans who began that charge lived through it.

At last the Germans launched one great attack, in which they apparently had every intention of driving the Americans from the village and the surrounding positions and every hope of being successful. They came on confidently and with undeniable courage. The fighting that resulted was desperate. Our Pennsylvania men stood up to them like the gallant veterans they had now become.