A HISTORY
of
THE 308th INFANTRY
1917-1919
By
L. Wardlaw Miles
Captain, 308th Infantry
CHAPTER 1
CAMP UPTON
HISTORY OF THE
308TH INFANTRY
1917-1919
CHAPTER I
Camp Upton
IT is not possible to name a particular day and hour,
which saw the birth of the 3o8th Infantry. Like the rest
of the 77th Division of the National Army of America, it
did not exist at the beginning of September, 1917, yet
well before the end of that month it was in vigorous
being. The Thompson-Starrett Company had already been
working two months to transform the and tract of scrub
oak surrounding Yaphank, Long Island, into a cantonment
when a notice appeared in the New York newspapers
instructing all officers assigned to Camp Upton to report
there on September 1st. In response to this order
hundreds of newly commissioned officers hurried to camp
by train and automobile.
Alighting at the
station, the vanguard of officers crossed the tracks,
acknowledged the salute of a Negro sentinel, and then
took a motor bus for the camp half a mile away. Here they
found little to suggest the recently established military
regime, and the few uniforms were lost in the
predominating mufti-a mufti for the most part of
overalls. The rough roads, always abominably dusty when
they were not vilely muddy, the stumps remaining from the
recently cleared forest of scrub oak, and the unpainted
shacks of every sort and size, all these suggested a huge
western mining camp in the throes of a violent boom.
Great white circus tents served as mess-halls. Gleaming
signs advertised streets leading to this or that
headquarters. And through these streets-if the name may
be used for roads which bounded often unbuilt lots-
swirled a ceaseless stream of pedestrians, motor cars,
auto trucks, and horse-drawn vehicles, bearing loads of
material to hasten the work of construction. No boomtown,
bare and blatant, ever sprawled over a wider area or ever
presented a scene of more intense activity.
There was, however,
little time for observation on the part of the newly
arrived officers. No sooner had they gathered their
luggage than a solider stepped briskly up, saluted, and
directed them to register in a large ominous- looking
volume. In camp but a few minutes they found themselves
already confronted by that all regulating body, the M. P.
Now formally enrolled with the 77th Division, another
member of the M. P. directed them to Division
Headquarters, known at even this early date as "The
Hill." Again the vanguard set forth along the dusty
roads, laden with handbags, clothing rolls, suitcases,
and all other imaginable forms of luggage. (All, one
should say, except the musette bag, which later enjoyed
such deserved popularity in France.) A none too dignified
procession it must have appeared, tramping the dusty
thoroughfare and dodging motors, which were no respecters
of rank. Tired, dirty, dishevelled, but still full of
optimism toward the Great Adventure opening before them,
the officers presented themselves to the Division
Adjutant. Through his hand Fate now assigned these
officers to their respective organizations. Practically
all the officers who were to join the unit which this
history describes were already known to one another,
having come from the 7th and 8th Companies in the New
York Regiment at Hattsburg.
Now for the first
time men heard the names of the regiments, battalions,
and trains with which they and their friends were to cast
their lot.
"I'm the
305th. "
" Oh, are you?
I'm the 308th, whatever that is."
Strange that words
which were to mean so much later and become so
unforgettable should then mean nothing at all! All the
officers were assigned to barracks in what was then known
as the "J" Section of the camp. A mess was
started which, true to the old joke, at once proved
itself deserving of the name. That the life before the
arrival of the drafted men was not to remain one of
leisure became obvious as soon as a meeting was called by
the 308th Infantry's Commanding Officer, Colonel Nathan
K. Averill, formerly of the 7th Cavalry. Stalwart,
vigorous, intense, masterful-the stern voice breaking at
intervals into genially reverberating laughter-it was
necessary to see and hear him only once to know that our
future leader was to be a man. Later it was the fate of
the 308th to be led in turn by several others, but it is
no necessary disparagement to them to say that to no
other has it rendered the homage and affection that went
to the Colonel with whom it began and ended.
Lieutenant Colonel
John J. Boniface, also a cavalry-man, soon became another
familiar figure, with his huge curved pipe and
gold-headed riding crop. These were the only two officers
of the regular army assigned to the Regiment. The
Battalion Commanders, Majors Bradley Martin, Clarence
Fahnestock, and Frank L. Nelson, were all graduates of
Plattsburg, as were Captains Kenneth P. Budd, the
Adjutant, and Harry Chinner, the Supply Officer. Officers
were now assigned to companies, each of which consisted
so far of one captain, three first lieutenants, and two
second lieutenants, with three non-commissioned officers
from the regular army-but so far with no private soldiers
to drill. These "companies " now moved over to
the " P " Section, the Regiment's future home.
Regimental Headquarters installed itself in a one story
building on Fourth Avenue, from which sanctum General
Order No. 1 was issued, proclaiming that the
undersigned-Colonel Nathan K. Averill- assumed command of
the 3o8th Infantry.
2
A memorandum now
appeared, stating that the first increment of drafted men
would arrive at Camp Upton on September 10th. At once the
Quartermaster's Department was besieged by excited
demands for food and clothing, for information as to the
proper amounts which should be provided, and for the time
of its delivery. Card indexes were prepared blankets,
messgear and iron bunks made ready, and kitchens stocked.
Meanwhile a very
remarkable thing was elsewhere taking place-a thing,
which the wildest visionary would not have dared to
prophesy two years before. Entirely unaware of the
preparations made for their reception in Yaphank, Long
Island, thousands of young men representing every section
of lower New York State, from Poughkeepsie to Staten
Island, and from West Street to Montauk Point, were (like
many other thousands of young men all over the country)
in good-natured and orderly fashion accepting the fact of
the draft.
At their various
draft boards these young men were taken in charge by
officers. At the Long Island Station they finally parted
from their relatives and friends to start the first lap
of their strange new journey.
It may be claimed
for the 77th Division that no other offered so
picturesque an illustration of the American melting-pot.
The wide swath of " the Democratic Army " cut
straight athwart the entire body of the metropolitan
population. All walks of life and probably every
civilized race were represented. Nothing more unmilitary
in appearance can be imagined than the long columns of
civilian-clad men, each with paper-wrapped or rope-tied
bundle, or valise, or suitcase, which wound from train to
barracks. The members of most draft boards flaunted
banners and signs proclaiming their identity and often
expressing the familiar legend: "To Hell with the
Kaiser." Some looked very dejected; a few were
boisterously drunk; the great majority accepted the
situation with that practical American stoicism which is
equally far removed from enthusiasm or despair. These men
had not chosen war, but since the job was inevitable they
were going to see it through.
And, from the
start, they did. To be fair, one must speak only in terms
of broad generalization and ignore the untypical
exceptions in order to give the truth. And the truth is
that these men, in the great number of cases, entirely
ignorant of all military discipline, accepted the
situation magnificently. That this was not mere apathy
and lack of spirit became evident when they were exposed
to fire ten months later. Meanwhile, already on the
trains men and officers had met and made their first
mutual appraisement. One remark overheard may be taken as
fairly characteristic of the first and lasting impression
made on the enlisted personnel by their new officers:
" Gee! They're regular guys!" Nor were the
officers for their part less cordially appreciative of
the newcomers.
As soon as they had
arrived the men were allotted to regiments. The quota of
the 3o8th was marched to Casual Barracks P 47 and P 48
where each man was registered, given mess kit and
blankets, and assigned to a bunk with the fervent
admonition not to leave it, for bunk number and
corresponding number on the qualification card were the
individuals only identification. Now the men for the
first time knew the strange experience of finding
themselves at last in a military cantonment, under
military discipline, and subject to a thousand new
impressions.
"Some ugly
building . . . Mighty clean though . . . When do we eat?
. . . Wonder what the meals are like . . . This bed feels
pretty good; I heard we had to sleep on the floor . . .
What's this thing? . . . Eat out of that? . . . See that
gink, he's the Captain . . . What d'ye mean inoculation?
. . . Real blankets all right! "
All such
conjectures and comments ceased suddenly at the
Sergeant's terse command: "Come and get it!"
and the first introduction to army chow soon proved that
military food-like many other military matters-was not so
bad after all. After mess each man was classified, and
his name, age, home address, race, and occupation
recorded. Then all were allowed the freedom of the camp,
a freedom of little temptation since one barracks looked
just like another, and the fear of losing one's way had
been deeply impressed on all. That first night proved a
memorable one. The unique experience made sleep
impossible. jest and laughter echoed through the barracks
almost until the first note of reveille.
Four days later
these so-called " casuals " were definitely
assigned to particular companies, and the 308th Infantry
began to develop a real entity. The long-waited uniforms
arrived and were piled high on the mess hall tables to be
thence distributed until late into the night. Endless
labor it seemed at the time, with endless problems of
ludicrous misfits and necessary exchange. Yet at last it
was somehow accomplished, and at last, properly equipped
from hat-cord to shoe-strings, the rookie appeared
transformed from civilian to soldier. An indescribable
transformation! Coats had contracted into blouses; pants
bulged into breeches; the hidden truth of a man's calf
stood revealed by canvas leggins. With all this came a
more soldierly bearing, while the military salute began
to lose its absurdity and to acquire significance. Heels
started to click sharply, and the peaked campaign hats to
tilt at the proper smart angle.

"By the
numbers" Learning to throw grenades
3
Camp Upton when
completed took the shape of a huge U built about
"The Hill " already mentioned. Rows upon rows
of bare-faced wooden barracks, each with a latrine on one
side and a company street on the other, were divided by
miles of straight metalled roads into rectangular blocks,
like city squares, each of which contained a regiment,
battalion, or train. Only the base of the U-about one
eighth of the finally completed cantonment-had been built
by the beginning of September, 1917. In the center, high
upon the hill which gave Division Headquarters its name,
were situated the numerous staff buildings and the
Headquarters of Major General J. Franklin Bell.
While men labored
with office work, equipment, and drill, the task of
building construction kept pace, and the great arms of
the U stretched westward, and their junction at its base
broadened to the east. The first officers of the 308th to
arrive in September made their ablutions, together with
hundreds of civilians, at one lone pump. Later each
barracks boasted its latrine, and the spaces between the
barracks lost their innumerable stumps till they became
leveled into the smoothest of company streets and
fire-breaks. Apart from purely military work, industry
hummed all day long, pierced at intervals with the shrill
whistles of donkey engines. Buildings sprang up not
"over night " but in the course of a few hours.
They were constructed in sections lying flat upon the
ground, and then at the sounding of a whistle these were
hoisted into place and bolted together, about forty men
taking part in the erection of each building. As soon as
the roof was in place, the plumbers and electricians
entered, and in a few hours what had been barren ground
bore a completed structure with running water and
electric lights. Y. M. C. A. and K. of C. buildings were
erected, as well as a church, hostess houses for men and
officers, a huge store, and an hotel. The Officers'
Hostess House on the slope of the hill just above the
regimental area was built and run largely by the ladies
and friends of the 308th Infantry. A regimental canteen
was started, which under the efficient management of
Lieutenant Harold Bache, brought a regular revenue to the
308th Regimental Fund. Later a Regimental Theatre (the
only one in camp) was erected by carpenters and mechanics
of the Regiment under Lieutenant Bebell and Sergeant
Gerus, Headquarters Company, and through the gener-osity
of Majors Martin and Fahnestock, so swelled the coffers
that the fund became one of the largest of it's kind in
the National Army.
The first days at
camp had been devoted to recording the men at the
mustering office, medical inspections, and inoculations
against typhoid and diphtheria. Long columns of men were
constantly being marched to and from such destinations,
or stood patiently waiting as the wheels of the vast
machine slowly turned about them. Other columns of
casuals, some still civilian-clad, and all bowed beneath
great blanket-wrapped bundles of equipment, moved through
the hot September sun from one barracks to another
wearily seeking their final location. The individual, so
all-important to himself, so insignificant to these busy
thousands, yearned to exchange his wanderings and serial
number for a local habitation and a name. As is the wont
of men, he clung with pathetic tenacity to the particular
bunk, which had acquired some little familiarity. And,
finally settled, he began immediately to grow a feeling
of esprit and pride in the outfit which he henceforth
called his own.
The
"needle" of the inoculation, at first dreaded,
soon grew commonplace through familiarity, but continued
to be the subject of banter as long as new recruits
arrived. once over the effect of the inoculations, men
were set to work to clear away the debris which cluttered
the ground around the new barracks so that there might be
areas in which to drill. The second week saw everyone
started upon the drill rudiments. Officers who on the
Plattsburg parade ground four months earlier, in the
sweat of their brow and in the anguish of their hearts,
had about-faced, forward-marched, and halted for some
dreaded superior, attempted to pass on the knowledge
of Infantry Drill Regulations to others as ignorant now
as they had been earlier. Guard duty started; and
setting-up exercises, alternating with moderate hikes,
commenced the process of hardening.
With the issue of
the cosmoline-smeared rifles from out the great
coffin-like boxes, work grew more intense. Once cleaned
with gasoline and properly oiled, the number written on
its owner's hat-band, the "soldier's best
friend" was gradually introduced to him. Soon every-
company street was full of little groups executing with
ever increasing dexterity the manual of arms. Upon which
would suddenly descend the Colonel, to pause and make
silent observation, while he stood in characteristic
attitude, feet apart, hands clasped behind back, riding
crop tapping boots, watching the self conscious
drillmaster and recruit. After a little the officer might
be summoned to the Colonel's side and comment, flattering
or otherwise, expressed. "See what I mean? " The
officer always saw-or if he didn't see, he said he did.
Having mastered the
problem of combining Right Shoulder Arms with the first
three steps of Forward march, Platoons began to drill on
grounds away from the barracks. One such ideal drill
ground was discovered in Smith's Field some three miles
west of the regimental area. Here and in similar places,
under the bluest of autumn skies, snugly enclosed by
woods, the companies learned close and open order,
pitched tents, did bayonet and setting-up exercises, and
finally mastered the intricacies of battalion drill
itself.
But there were many
other activities: policing of bar-racks, details to be
furnished for other than military duty, Saturday
inspections, and the voluminous an meticulous horrors of
paper work. Changes in personnel occurred daily as men
were shifted about in accordance with their particular
adaptation to the military machine. Major Martin
relinquished command of the 3rd Battalion to become
Adjutant of the 154th Brigade, while Major Clarence
Fahnestock, later a victim of pneumonia overseas, was
transferred to the 76th Division. Captain Kenneth P.
Budd, hitherto Adjutant, was promoted to Major and took
command of the 2nd Battalion. Captain Allen L. Lindley
became Adjutant, reluctantly relinquishing command of I
Company, which he had made one of the best in the
Regiment. To the two officers just named a great part of
the Regiment's success was due. What their tact,
personality, and driving force did to vitalize and
coordinate the growing organization cannot be
overestimated, and by no one was this better appreciated
than by the Regimental Commander himself, who could
always rely on their sound judgment and clear vision.
Captain Harry Chinner was promoted to Major and succeeded
Major Martin's command of the 3rd Battalion. The 1st
Battalion was commanded by Major Frank L. Nelson. Captain
Clifford W. Gaylord, formerly commanding D Company, which
under him was organized and made to function properly
perhaps before any other company in the Regiment, now
became Regimental Supply Officer, a position which he
filled most efficiently until later in France he was made
G i of the 77th Division. At this point mention may be
made of the Regimental Mess which was started by Colonel
Averill, and at which the officers learned to know each
other; through this association were started those
friendships and that esprit which down to date so
signally have marked the 308th.
By mid-October most
of the companies were about 80 per cent full strength.
Visitors to the camp at this time were astonished at the
transformations worked in so short a period. Faces had
bronzed, backs straightened and shoulders squared.
Already carriage and drill spoke eloquently for the men's
military training. In reality just completing the initial
stage, they now regarded themselves as veterans and
looked with contempt upon the constantly arriving
newcomers. In the presence of the latter, the older men
saluted punctiliously and added a bit of swagger to their
walk. They talked of K. P's., chow, reveille, close
order, and fatigue with the fluency of long acquaintance.
And they dilated particularly upon the terrible
"needle." The rookies were duly impressed, but
before long they too had learned, and were ready in turn
to pass on their knowledge to yet newer comers.
November found the
regiment operating with comparative smoothness. No rosy
glow of memory can make those who lived it forget that
the life was a hard one for men and officers alike. In
addition to the regular routine, orders emanated from
Division Headquarters with alarming frequency. It seemed
that the Colonel and Captain Lindley, aided by the
latter's six assistants, were determined to put down a
smothering barrage of official Papers upon the Company
Commanders and their subordinates entrenched in the
little orderly rooms. From the windows of the latter,
lights gleamed late into the night, and this after days
of eight hours' drill. In addition to the regular routine
of Morning Reports, Ration Reports, Service Records,
Qualification Cards, Muster Rolls, Pay Rolls, Company
Fund Records, Ordnance Requisitions, and Quartermaster
Requisitions-in addition to these and similar demands of
paper work came requests for lists of every possible kind
of enlisted man, whether auto-mechanic, landscape
gardener, or "left-handed Presbyterian." A
fierce exasperation burned in the hearts of Company
Commanders who were constantly obliged to give to other
units their best non-commissioned officer material.
Six days they
labored and did all, or at least all that was humanly
possible, that they had to do. Saturday morning and
Company Inspection! The last scrap of paper and cigarette
butt is picked up from the company street, the latrine
has been scrubbed, rifles cleaned, and all equipment put
in prescribed order. The Colonel enters the barracks.
Attentions called; each man stands motionless at the
foot of his bunk; and in a dreadful hush inspection
begins. At last-for good or till-it is over. "As you
were" is shouted, and those who are fortunate
execute a wild dash for the train and Sunday leave. Those
weekend passes, pretty generously given, afforded a
blessed relaxation. Many were the means employed for
their attaimnent. Vital statistics would show that the
proverbial death rate of office boys' grandmothers on
ball game days was nothing to the mortality of recruits'
relatives at such times. Thus the men were enabled to see
New York and New York herself had the opportunity to look
upon her transformed soldier sons.
Especially
conspicuous were the newly appointed non- commissioned
officers, many of whom were attending the Officers'
Training School started at Camp Upton in January, 1918.
These swaggered about the metropolis with a swinging of
arms well calculated to display their newly -won
chevrons. One felt a pardonable pride when first
introduced as Sergeant or Corporal. "The backbone of
the army is the Non-Commissioned Man," and Kipling's
words were never better exemplified than in the case of
the 308th Infantry. Whether training in America or
fighting in France, the more they were allowed to
exercise authority and initiative the better was the
result. With just as much pride as the newly appointed N.
C. O's. but perhaps showing a trifle more
self-consciousness, ar-rived the officers from the Second
Training Camp to com-plete our quota.
At this time the
Medical Staff instituted rigorous methods to safeguard
health. Shelter-halves were ingeniously stretched between
the bunks to minimize danger of possible contagion, and
the most searching investigations directed against the
company kitchens. The fine autumn weather had now begun
to be broken by what was to prove the severest of
winters. The Officer of the Day, on his nightly rounds
from barracks to barracks, was required to note whether
windows were lowered six inches from the top in order to
provide each occupant his due 180 cubic feet of air, and
woe to the Company Commander whose barracks windows were
not sufficiently opened to the bitter winds which swept
Upton! For this, as for a hundred other sins of
unconscious commission or omission-for labor details
unsupplied, for unpoliced. streets, for undelivered
Morning Reports-came the prompt demand from Headquarters
"to explain herewith in writing," while from
the Company Commanders and Clerks, bowed over the
paper-littered desk beside the orderly stove, went tip
the fervent prayer " Good Lord deliver us!"
Though inclement
weather retarded work, drill was carried on whenever
possible. Boxing gloves were distributed, and the
barracks' rafters rang with howls of delight over bouts,
which made up in spirit for what they lacked of science.
British and French instructors, men who had seen the Real
Thing-that Real Thing still so far away-lectured at night
to officers fighting a hopeless fight against weariness
and sleep. On other nights these officers themselves held
classes for non-commissioned officers. Concerts were
given by the band which had reached a fine efficiency
under the direction of Leader Oliver C. Miller. At night
the Y. M. C. A. and K. of C. furnished the diversion of
moving pictures and other entertainments. All day long on
Sunday the company pianos, gifts of the Regiment's
staunchest friend, Mr. Joseph McAleenan, were in constant
operation. At such times the Mess Sergeants enjoyed
particular glory, proving to hundreds of visiting
relatives and friends how fine a thing was army chow.
4
Christmas was
coming. Colder weather and one in-tense preoccupation in
every mind: " Can I get home? " Before this was
answered came the Christmas party at the Auditorium, and
for the first time since its formation the men of the
Regiment were gathered together in one body to be
addressed by the Colonel. As he stepped forward on the
stage, the mighty shout which went up from some three
thousand doughboy throats was only to be surpassed by the
mightier shout which acclaimed his speech. They were all
for him, body and soul. Following the Colonel's address,
there were calls for Mr. McAleenan, who reluctantly
mounted the stage and addressed the men, awaiting such an
opportunity to thank the one whose generosity had
supplied them with pianos, athletic equipment, tobacco
and candy, and henceforth was to them "Uncle
Joe," the never-to-be-forgotten friend of the 308th.
To his benefaction was due in no small manner the
beginning of that company spirit which so marked the
Regiment.
One half of the
unit received Christmas leave; the other half New Year's.
For many it was to prove the last of such reunions. All
wondered what the future was to bring and none knew.
Perhaps Fate is kind in such cases not to let us know. At
any rate it was for many a time of great happiness.
Holidays over, work commenced
with redoubled activity. Against the
brightening horizon of bitter dawn, the bodies of men
showed black as they marched across those barren fields
toward the rifle range. Here the red flag, signal that
all was ready, hoisted, the men would lie prone with
ammunition beside them, waiting for the targets to rise
from behind the butts. A shrill whistle from the Major
announced "Commence Firing"! Then for the first
time there came to many the intense sensation of firing a
rifle, and finding it didn't kick as much as they feared;
of seeing the target sink; and of seeing it rise again,
perhaps with the bitter chagrin of watching the wagging
flag signal "Miss," perhaps with the rapture of
seeing the white disk mark a "Number Five."
Meanwhile within the butts, the markers listened to the
venomous scream of the bullets ricocheting overhead, and
hauled down the targets and dabbed white paint over the
black splotches, and hoisted again and marked the hits
with the proper disks, finding time to gamble various
amounts on their particular charges. Noon brought "
Cease Firing " and-if one's Mess Sergeant was the
right sort -hot coffee and stew and sandwiches eaten
beside roaring fires.
On February 2nd,
the entire Regiment entrained for New York and a four
days' celebration there. On the 3rd, the Regimental Show
organized by Lieutenant Louis Lederle, Adjutant of the
3rd Battalion, was presented at the Hippodrome with a
profit of $8,000. In spite of the fine bill provided
by many generous professional volunteers, the chief
interest of the audience, packed with friends and
relatives, centered on the chorus, drills, and sketch in
which members of the Regiment participated. Now first
appeared the Regimental Colors, the first to be received
by any Regiment in the National Army.
On Monday, February 4th, New York had its first
opportunity to see a parade of a unit of the National
Army. When, in the bitter cold, before a vast crowd, the
Regiment paraded up 8th Avenue and down 5th Avenue, the
city was genuinely astonished at the showing of the men,
and the papers lavish in their praise of what was at once
acclaimed as "New York's Own." Later in the
month a Regimental circus was held at camp in the
auditorium to raise funds for the 308th Infantry
Association, and the antics of the performers drew crowds
for three days. Again on Washington's Birthday the
Regiment paraded in New York, this time together with the
entire Division and through a driving snowstorm.

The
Washington's Birthday parade in Fifth Avenue
With the completion
of the new trench system, patterned after a sector of the
Western Front, the regiment engaged in maneuvers, which
suggested something of actual war. Men leaped over or
into real trenches, and advanced cheering in innocent
simulation of a real bayonet charge. A big tank from
England lumbered about; from their emplacements machine
guns wiped out imaginary enemies; and gas alarms sounded
while the doughboys went over the top. Practice in
throwing nonexplosive hand grenades began. Platoons were
for a time divided into grenade throwers (sometimes
called grenadiers), rifle-grenadiers, riflemen and
liaison agents, according to the directions of the red
pamphlets, recently distributed to the officers and
carefully marked with the suggestive legend, "Not to
be Carried in the Front Line Trenches. "
By the 15th of
March, every one knew the day of departure was very near,
and the Colonel generously granted passes for farewell
visits. Parents, wives, and sweethearts flocked to camp
for a last talk with the one particular boy, only to
learn from that individual in tones void of any emotion
that the Regiment might not go for months. But he really
knew. And the otherwise suppressed feelings had to find
vent in frolicsome parades and demonstrations.
March brought news
of the great German drive and, though less definitely, a
thousand rumors of our own early entrance on the stage of
the world drama. Captain Gaylord packed the regimental
warehouses with material and equipment. Supply Sergeants
worked day and night issuing "Equipment C" to
platoon leaders, and one inspection followed closely upon
another. Marking baggage, packing, roster-making, and
sending in of reports never ceased. Piles of boxes and
crates, marked with blue stripes and the Statue of
Liberty, bore the significant if indefinite address: A.
E. F. At last with the first days of April, came the long
expected orders: everything must be packed in thirty-six
hours, and the Regiment must be held ready to leave at
any moment.
5
One pauses for a
retrospective glance at the men who then commanded the
companies. Let us in fancy wait a moment by the
Regimental Headquarters' door as they file into the
Colonel's sanctum to take their seats upon the
"Mourners' Bench," at one of those nightly
meetings when the day's work was reviewed, criticism
favorable or unfavorable bestowed, and instruction for
the next day outlined.
Here they come!
Harvey, short, dark, energetic. Whittlesey, tall, lank,
serious, bespectacled. He listens judicially or talks
quietly in the same level tones which he will never lose
in the face of danger and despair. There is Mills,
powerful of frame and deep of voice, full of jest, the
very figure of an ideal soldier. Here is McMurtry,
bustling, breezy, and busy, yet full of his own humorous
ways. "What's the dope, Breck?" he is asking.
And how shall one describe Breckinridge? A personality at
once odd, laughing, kindly, and capable, that so well
knows how to tie men's hearts to him. Whatever his
answer, it probably ends with the familiar and vehement
asservation "as sure as God -made little green
apples." Fahnestock, slender, dark, and graceful.
Sturgis, Frothingham, Gaylord, Harrington, Forsyth,
Whitehouse, Sterling, Crook. What cleancut,
soldierly-looking men they all are! And last Brooks. None
among them all is better to look upon than Bell Brooks
with his fair hair and clear blue eyes. Like Mills, he
too is to give his life in France within a few months.
The door closes behind him, and the Captains pass on.
6
Perhaps General
Bell remembered Carlyle's saying: "Show me how a man
sings, and I will tell you how he fights." At any
rate he was of the opinion that a singing army would be a
victorious one. And so the order went forth early that
the men should sing while marching to and from drill. For
myself nothing so vividly brings back the Upton days, or
indeed the later days in France, as do the songs then
popular,
"The tunes that mean so much to you alone Common
tunes that make you choke and blow your nose, Vulgar
tunes that bring the laugh that brings the groan-I can
rip your very heartstrings out with those."
Here are some of them:
Good Bye, Broadway. Hello France!
We're ten million strong.
Good-bye brothers, sisters, mothers,
Now we won't be long! "
(For me that means the cool emptiness and the clean piney
smell of the new barracks in the earliest September days
before the arrival of the Draft.)
"I may be gone for a long, long time"
(The same, and the voice of one gallant friend who sang
these words constantly-and then, to his bitter regret,
instead of being gone for a long, long time, never went
at all.)
" Keep your head down, you dirty Hun
(The closing in of a dark November day. The rain lash-ing
at the orderly room window. In the mess-hall, a crowd
shouting out the words around the piano.)
"Liberty Bell, it's time to ring again, ring
again"
(Orderly swing of marching men, whose feet are thumping
on the road towards drill at Smith's Field. The voices of
a platoon in rhythmic chorus, singing in the sun-flooded
autumn morning.)
Over there! Over there!
Send the word, send the word-"
The hour had many such, ranging from the jerky rag-time
of the Darktown Strutters' Ball to the heavy sentiment of
Just a Baby's Prayer at Twilight. (In extenuation of the
sentimentality let it be remembered that a recruit
drilling hard all day in the open air can healthily
digest a dose of sentimentality, which would wreck the
constitutions of five indoor intellectuals.) But when all
is said, one song alone, neither ragtime nor sentimental,
best voiced our Division:
Oh, the army, the army, the democratic army!
They clothe you and they feed you
Because the army needs you. Hash for breakfast, Beans for
dinner, stew for supper-time,
Thirty dollars every month, deducting twenty-nine.
Oh, the army, the army, the democratic army,
The Jews, and the Wops, and the Dutch and Irish Cops,
They're all in the army now! "