A STORY
of
THE 305th MACHINE GUN BATTALION
77th DIVISION
A.E.F.
By
HENRY W. SMITH
Chapter 13
Advance to the Aisne and Some Rumors
CHAPTER XIII
ADVANCE TO THE AISNE AND SOME RUMORS
THIS table-land apparently did not offer much in the way
of protection but the same problem, no doubt, had
presented itself to the Germans when they originally came
through this territory and they solved it by making
excavations about four feet wide and deep and perhaps
twenty to thirty in length. There were any number of
these holes so successfully hidden by the dry grass of
the fields that it was several minutes before they were
observed. They were well protected against shrapnel. When
we had wondered where the Germans went when our artillery
started warming up, these were, no doubt, the holes into
which the Jerries scampered. Well, the enemy remembered
all about these holes that they had left behind and when
they stopped their retreat and had set up some artillery
guns they naturally shelled the place. It didn't take us
long to move right in and we were really quite grateful
to Fritz for having provided for us in this way.
Shelling, however, was always sure to get somebody and
one hit was made between two infantrymen carrying a
stretcher. We leave such pictures to your imagination.
Members of the
Battalion will recall that it was here that an enemy
airplane zoomed down at us with the machine gun roaring.
He caught us flat-footed with our rompers at half-mast
and came so low that we fired at him with side-arms on
the chance that a lucky shot would bring him down. We did
not get him and on the other hand no one in the Battalion
was hit, to the best of my knowledge, which was one of
those unexplainable happenings of the war. This open
field was no place to be loitering, nor did we tarry as
Jerry had to be followed up and we started again in the
direction of a village named Perles. On, on we went with
no opposition from the enemy and presently the smoke of
the burning village of Villier en Prayere came into view.
Pushing on we
eventually entered a wooded section, once again enjoying
a false sense of security that the foliage afforded. If
memory serves correctly, we remained here for a couple of
days during which time the 302nd Engineers put through an
emergency trench system and it is doubted if any
trenches, anywhere, were ever dug with more speed and
dispatch. Moving further forward and still under the
cover of the woods we dropped into a system of German
trenches. A shallow dug-out with a tin covering was
immediately occupied by Murphy, Pavia, Traub and Zaccaro
of C Company and it proved to be a fatal spot for them.
It was sometime in the early afternoon when the enemy
made a direct hit on that dug-out. Corporal Kelly was on
his knees handing in rations at the time and, strange as
it seems, it left him with only a slight case of shell
shock. Almost at his fingers' ends the lives of the other
four were snuffed out. Pavia lasted until nightfall but
died before an ambulance could be brought up under cover
of darkness. Still moving forward, positions were taken
up on the heights overlooking the Aisne River. The
Germans had made another stand at this point with another
waterway to help them hold us at bay.
We of Company held well-distributed positions for a day
or two when Lady Rumor fluttered around again with
whispers of a relief. We were relieved sure enough but
only by Jim Mahoney and that bunch of bandits from A
Company which meant that the Battalion was not going very
far away. Well, back we went to Vauxcere and those caves
familiar to all of us. What a feeling of absolute
security when you entered those holes under the hills!
They were big enough to accommodate almost an entire
company and I believe there were larger ones elsewhere
around the town.
While riding along
a road near Vauxcere, the mule Zachatelli of C Company
was mounted upon was hit by shrapnel, dying later in the
day, but Zach was uninjured. Capt. Luce was severely
wounded in the hand by shrapnel. He was evacuated to a
base hospital and did not rejoin the Company. As I recall
it, our first replacements were received during our
sojourn in the caves. As an initiation to the lines a
detail from the contingent assigned to C Company was
called upon to dig the hole to bury Zachatelli's mule
and, of course, that was some hole.
With nothing in
particular to do other than to keep out of harm's way we
had a fine opportunity to watch the activity of the
airplanes. The Germans had such supremacy of the
situation that it was won-dered if the Allies had any
planes. We found out, but that's an item for later pages.
Another interesting sight was a battery of the big guns
of the 306th Field Artillery Regiment that went into
action in a sunken road not far distant. The guns were
being handled with such precision that one gained the
impression that those gun crews had done nothing else all
their live but handle six-inch howitzers.
Old Dame Rumor was
a busy old girl fluttering about from one outfit to
another and sure enough she again paid us a visit at
Vauxcere. This time it was a beauty. We were not only
going to be relieved but the powers that be realized that
the 77th had been kept in the lines for a long time and
was going to be rewarded by a long rest at a big rest
camp four kilometers from Paris. In what back yard did
that originate? The date was now somewhere around the
middle of September and, without doubt, the units of the
Division were dirty, weary and fed-up, especially after
the experience on the Vesle. Then, too the Division had
been active almost without let-up from the time it landed
in France. Rumors kept up the morale and, although the
talk of the rest camp near Paris sounded a little too
good, we were in a good condition to believe anything.
Anyway, it was a pleasant thought. Consequently, when
packs were rolled and we moved out of Vauxcere in the
twilight of one of those September days we stepped along
full of hope for a good rest, at least. One thing was
certain and that was that we were being relieved. Came
the darkness and at the same time we commenced to meet
the relieving force, none other than the 8th Division of
the Italian army. Just how the Italian troops fared after
they took over the lines, I have never heard but when we
met them on those dark roads they seemed to be going up
for a picnic. Machine guns were packed on mules and,
wonder of wonders, lanterns were lit and swinging beneath
their limbers. Most of us knew nothing more than
"Hello, friend", in Italian, which we worked
overtime and you can imagine the surprise when a voice
from the Italian column called out, "Anybody over
here from Jersey City?" Another shouted, "If I
ever get back to Pittsburgh, they'll never get me
again." As we drew further away from the lines some
of the Italians must have had time to take over and what
a display their rocket signals made as they burst in the
air. No doubt you recall twisting your neck to watch the
fireworks. No one knew what it was all about but it
seemed as though the Italians were in for a party the way
they went up to the lines.
Hour in and hour
out we trudged along and it seemed that we would never
stop but the red glow in the sky and roar of the guns
were not far behind which was something. At about one
o'clock in the morning the hike came to an end in the
usual place, namely, the middle of a dark piece of
woodland. What did it matter? Were we not on our way to
Paris?
The blackness of
the woods made it next to impossible to find a place to
bivouac for the remainder of the night or, as we called
it, a "flopping place". Many of the men were
satisfied to drop almost where they had stopped but this
proved to be very unwise. In getting into the woods
without being able to see where we were, we had traversed
a woods road. We had barely settled down when the
trans-ports started pulling in along the same road. While
the ground was firm enough to walk on it was too soft for
the supply wagons and limbers and the mule skinners
commenced urging the animals on as only mule skinners
knew how. In they came, with all their din and clatter
and their nice, choice selection of profanity. Only mule
skinners really knew how to swear. It seemed as though
the transports were rattling in all night but we slept
through all their racket.
The next morning,
bright and early, what was our surprise to hear Major
Peake acting as his own bugler. Who can forget the sight
as he strode up and down the road? I can still hear him
bellowing at the top of his lungs "The cooks will
get up and start preparing breakfast. The stable crews
will feed and water the horses. The horses are tired as
well as the men. That's a command of execution and I want
action." Heads came up from blankets all over the
place to see what it was all about and as quickly
disappeared beneath the blankets to smother a few
pleasantries. What was said under those blankets will not
bear repeating here. We might say, though, that the cooks
did get up and the stable crews did feed and water the
animals.
It has been
mentioned that the date was the fourteenth of September
and that we were in the Cohan Woods near the village of
Caulonges. A pleasant surprise was in store for us here.
In the afternoon we were paid and that was that. Chaplain
Lawson had a lot of cigarettes and chocolate but there
was no place to spend a cent. Little circles of men
formed here and there and soon the little white dominoes
were galloping again.