HISTORY
of
THE 306th Field Artillery
AFTER THE ARMISTICE
THE, final epoch in
the career of the regiment was the return from the heat
of battle to the discipline of routine. The night of
November 11th, for the first time in years, Raucourt and
Beaumont, where elements of the regiment were quartered,
showed lights in all of the windows; and soldiers, with
the civilians so recently liberated, went singing about
the streets. Automobiles and trucks which had hitherto
groped their way about dark, deserted villages, now ran
with their lamps gleaming through the night. The change
to peace-this minute the world a hell of shells, the next
a heaven of rejoicing-was so sudden it seemed
unbelievable.
Ten days' stay at Sommauthe, Beaumont and La Besace for
Regimental Headquarters and the Second and Third
Battalions-and the forward elements rejoined the First
Battalion at Mareq. There, in the ruined village that but
recently had been the scene of fierce fighting, the
regiment marked time, practiced on the rifle range nearby
and stood its first Saturday Inspection since going into
action. The regiment awoke with a start to the fact that
war was over, and drill had come to take its place. To
veterans, this seemed strange.
Thanksgiving was celebrated here, on a splendid dinner of
corned willie and jam, while six or eight mess sergeants
fretted and fumed on a stalled truck full of good eats
and dainties somewhere on the road between Bar-le-Duc:
and Marcq. The dainties were to have been the mainstay of
the dinner. The afternoon of Thanksgiving Day the mayors
of the twin villages of Marcq and St. Juvin, for which
the Americans had paid a heavy price a few weeks before,
arrived to make a reconnaissance to find out whether the
village was still suitable for habitation. Their
population was scattered through France, but most of it
was collected at Paris, where it had fled in the early
war days.
These two dignitaries were quickly included in the
regimental Thanksgiving celebration in the public square
of Marcq. The Mayor of Mareq, a little weazened old man,
in baggy trousers, a frock coat, and a yachting cap,
summoned enough courage to make a neat little speech, but
the Mayor of St. Juvin, tall, angular, and brawny, could
only stand on the platform and twiddle his fur cap
furtively in one hand, while with the other he fumbled at
the buttons of his leather hunting jacket. Perhaps he was
moved by the occasion-perhaps stunned by the sight of so
many friendly soldiers standing on the reconquered soil
of his boyhood. He was cheered lustily for all that. Then
came a speech in which Colonel Winn made veiled promises,
saying with a wink for which he was cheered-that
"somebody at Headquarters had whispered something
that sounded good."
Three days later, the regiment moved by truck through
Chevieres, and around the wreck and ruin of hard-won
Grand Pre, to Autry for entrainment. Gradually, ruined
villages and tousled fields blended into scenes more
peaceful, as the Big Mogul puffed and panted along the
tracks with its long string of real American-made freight
cars. Each car contained seventy-two crowded and growling
men, looking for a bit of floor on which to place their
feet. They were happy to be moving just the same.
December A Regimental Headquarters, and the First and
Second Battalions hiked from the detraining point at
Latrecey to Dancevoir, while the Third Battalion marched
to Boudreville, five kilometers from the former village.
The regiment found itself billeted in the Department of
Haute-Marne, close to Chaumont, where G. H. Q. was
located.
These little villages represented the regiment's first
real intimacy with French rural life. They had come into
contact with French life in their training camp at St.
Medard, but not so completely as here. The streets were
winding, narrow, and muddy on rainy days, which were the
only kind prevalent, but. the houses, unlike those of the
battlefield, had four walls and roof intact, with a
picturesqueness that is not found in the more modern
American villages. The little river Aube flowed through
the valley, and tiny washhouses on its banks gave promise
of washerwomen and clean clothing once more. Ducks and
geese waddled about, and piebald cows pattered down the
street to the watering place by the river. Fresh from
war, these were cheerful sights for tired men.
Everywhere in the village the American was hailed as a
"bon soldat," and with his diluted
conversational supply of half a dozen French words, the
306th Artilleryman was soon to be seen sitting before
every village fireplace "chauffing" himself and
recounting with the aid of arms, legs, poker, or anything
handy, his battle exploits. These tales never failed of
being stamped with the mark of approval "bon"
by the French family. Fireplaces adorned with pretty
daughters were especially desirable. Several
estaminets-the little wine shops of France-put on their
holiday fronts and prepared for an influx of francs. Many
were the savory dinners cooked up for hungry soldiers by
the excellent French housewives. "American soldats
tous gourmands" they said of the ever eating
artilleryman. Then, too, there were sly oglings between
John Gunner and little Jeanne, Marie, and Rosemarie. It
was here that the regimental interpreter took unto
himself a buxom wife, after an argument with " M. Le
Maire, " who objected strenuously to the reduction
of the village population by bad bold men who carried
away the demoiselles of his best families.
The village of Dancevoir, too, boasts of a chateau, a
quaint place by the river, inhabited by a sure -enough
count who regaled the officers with the best from his
cellars, and took them on boar-hunting expeditions. He
was often to be seen, strolling about the village streets
in wooden shoes, a hunting jacket, and a yachting cap. He
was a tall, gaunt figure, with fierce mustaches. As
country counts go, he was most democratic, and not averse
to eating buns at a battery kitchen.
The officers and men, upon arriving amid these scenes of
rural quiet, were a bit proud of the regiment's record
at the front, and felt that as artillerymen and soldiers
they had made good. They were now promptly and firmly
convinced, that as soldiers they knew nothing about
anything. It appeared that the Number One men at the
guns, who for months past had been hurling high-explosive
shells at Jerry, had been pulling the lanyard with the
wrong finger! The gunners and cannoneers, veterans every
one of them had forgotten to go by the book. Although it
was admitted that in an advance the regiment had never
allowed an obstacle to prevent its marching well up with
the foremost, it was now pointed out that the regiment
really knew nothing of regulation marching. All this must
be learned by hours of concentrated practice, in mud,
sometimes in snow, and always in drizzle. Inspections
were frequent and strict. Guards were placed at the
public wells to see that no one drank the unhallowed
unchlorinated water upon which the villagers grew fat and
healthy and red cheeked. A sort of gypsy bath was rigged
up by the river, with hot and cold water,-just those two
kinds, there was no "in between." The cold
water was administered by the sergeant in charge of the
bath, who took more than gleeful delight in giving his
favorite officer the icy pailful.
Some of the men were detailed to work on roads and
streets, raking off the mud that the rain had formed.
When the regiment pulled out of the village it was said
that the street levels were several feet lower than they
had been on its arrival!
Evenings were the bright spots in existence in the
Haute-Marne. The Regimental Stock Company, then formed,
regaled the men with shows of its own conception, and so
good were they, that the Stock Company was allowed to
travel over the entire Divisional Area of forty or more
villages to present them. " Movies,"
entertainments, and athletic activities took place each
night at the Y. M. C. A. A commissary was established in
town by Lieutenant Vollmer, and for a time the regiment
lived in a luxury of jam, cigars, and cigarettes. But
Lieutenant Vollmer was called to work for the Peace
Commission and locked up his thriving business.
Thereafter the sardine profits of Madame Zaza, of the
village Epicerie, again increased.
Then came Christmas Day. "Home by Christmas "
had been the enthusiastic battle cry from the first day
of action. And here was the regiment, many miles from the
land of toy departments and Santa Clauses with red-brick
chimneys, in a little village where they call the old
saint " Pere-Noel. " But Pere-Noel; was good to
us, and although we did not hang our sox-" four
pairs, regulation issue "-on the mantel, we had the
finest dinner that was ever eaten in any army. Roast
suckling pig, mashed potatoes, gravy, green peas,
cauliflower, coffee, cocoa, punch, pie, jam, crackers,
crullers, cigars, cigarettes, and chocolate-went the way
of the glutton in sa-vory array. It was a dinner that
would have made any homeboard groan, but it was not home.
Christmas night it snowed, and the next morning the muddy
streets and the hills and valleys were covered with a
clean white blanket that transformed everything
magically.
Rumors flitted through billet and barrack as always.
Dates of homegoing were ventured, and heavy bets were
placed on paydays-yet always, the rumored date would
come-and pass.
While at Camp Upton, the War Department had given the
regiment to believe that it was to be motorized. We
sometimes rather wished the War Department would prove it
while at the front, where no amount of "Allez!"
could sometimes convince the horses that the artillery
was a mobile and not a stationary unit. And now they did
prove it. The S. 0. S. was going home, and had a good
number of automobiles and tractors that might be spared
us. Unfortunately the autos were delivered by way of
Chateauvillain, and with the exception of one flivver
" for the Supply Company, they were all borrowed
" by Division Headquarters. But the tractors were
smuggled in by railroad, and it was a proud day when the
great camouflaged caterpillar power engines came grinding
and rattling down the streets to their parks. But pride
was short-lived, for in a few days nearly every one had
been borrowed by sister regiments in neighboring towns.
They returned to us in January just in time to be cleaned
and repaired and turned in to the Ordnance Department!
But we had been motorized. Our guns soon followed, and a
final tribute was paid to the Regiment when the inspector
from G. H. Q. declared our mat6riel to be without
exception in the most perfect condition of any he had
seen in twenty years experience.
Toward the end of December the many teasing rumors took
definite shape. By January, moving was an assured fact,
and the order arrived to entrain February 7th for Le
Mans, the distributing center for embarkation points.
Before the great day of departure came, we had been
stripped of everything except uniforms and packs. And
when the final policing had been completed, the last can
buried, the last strip of paper covered, and we were
plodding up the hill and out of the town forever, we
looked back at the gray village, with its stone walls and
muddy streets; its bareheaded children and red cheeked
old women and men-and felt that in spite of restlesness
and homesickness; in spite of drill and fatigue, the
Haute-Marne had been not half bad. The villagers who
thought us such "bons soldats" and who had so
hospitably received us into their homes, waved a
sorrowful good-by-and in the overseas cap of John Gunner
flirted the tokens of little Jeanne, Marie, and
Rosemarie.
ALLEN LEFFERTS,
First Lieutenant, 306th F. A.