HISTORY
of
THE 306th Field Artillery
The Prisoners
NOTE: Towards the afternoon of
September 28th, when Lieutenants Hamilton, von Saltza,
and Badin failed to return from reconnaissance in the
Argonne Forest an anxiety as to their whereabouts,
naturally, was manifested at the regimental post of
command. Telephone messages to the battalions and to
other units, failed to elicit any information. Searching
parties were sent out from several points. Some of these
penetrated through the forest as far as the front-line
positions. Officers answering the descriptions of the
three lieutenants had been seen, but no definite
information concerning them could be obtained anywhere.
Thereafter, their fate was a mystery. Rumor had it that
all three had been shot and killed, and state-ments
drifted into headquarters that an infantry unit had
buried them. It was not until some time after the
cessation of hostilities, that the regiment learned the
truth.
AT nine o'clock, on the morning of September 28, 1918,
Lieutenant Philip von Saltza, Regimental Gas and Engineer
Officer, Lieutenant Jean Badin, a French artillery
officer attached to the regiment, and myself, Regimental
Reconnaissance Officer, left the regimental post of
command near Le Rondchamp to go forward on a
reconnaissance for possible P. C.'s, battery positions,
and routes through the forest. Arriving at La Harazee, we
followed a rough road up the left side of a ravine
running northeast. We left the road after it reached the
plateau, and followed a telephone line to an old German
trench system, then occupied by a small number of our
infantry. They told us that it was a reserve position,
that the lines had been carried forward four or five
kilometers the previous night, but that snipers still
lurked in the vicinity.
We followed this trench system for perhaps a kilometer
until it intersected a narrow-gauge railway in a deep
cut. This brought us to an opening in a wood where
several shots fired at us struck the ground uncomfortably
close. We took cover in the railway cut for a few
minutes, but hearing nothing further, emerged again.
Drawing no fire, we continued forward until we struck a
path to the left leading up to what we thought was a high
point in the woods. Hoping to find a place for an
observation post, we followed the path and reached the
crest, but found the woods too thick for observation. We
rested there a short while and studied our maps.
Lieutenant Badin walked off, and in about ten minutes,
returned, reporting that he had found a deserted German
headquarters. This we decided to visit.
It was a group of semi-dugouts, neatly built on a slope
to the north. In the largest, which we entered
cautiously, were numbers of maps, mounted and in rolls,
showing machine-gun or artillery positions with their
fields of fire. While Lieutenant von Saltza and I
gathered these up, we began to feel suspicious of our
surroundings, for it seemed strange that such things
should have been left when there was no indication of
damage from a barrage in the vicinity. In the meantime,
Lieutenant Badin had walked a short distance down the
slope to the north until he was lost to view in the heavy
underbrush. As we stood outside one of the dugouts,
awaiting his return, a number of shots was fired suddenly
from a point very near by. This volley was followed by
shouting. Instinctively we took cover in the dugout
entrance, and almost immediately, Germans appeared from
all sides. Hoping that we had not been seen, and that, by
waiting, we might escape, we withdrew into the dugout and
destroyed all the maps and papers of importance we had
with us.
It was only a matter of a few minutes
before we could see, through the two glass windows and
the door, that the entrance to the dugout was covered by
a large party armed with rifles, grenades, and pistols.
They called to us to come out. We, seeing that resistance
against such superior forces was useless, reluctantly
obeyed, and were relieved of our pistols, belts, field
glasses, and map cases, under the direction of two young
officers, after which the men were ordered not to touch
us. None of the party spoke English, but they managed to
ask us a few questions in halting French as to what we
were doing there. When we asked about Badin they told us
that he had been killed.
Then began our long march under guard to
the rear. Enroute we met a weary German captain who asked
us in good English what we Americans were doing in this
war against the Germans, who had never done us any harm-a
question which we soon found to interest the Germans more
than any other. We replied that we were in it for good
and sufficient reasons we did not think it necessary to
discuss at that time. Just before we left him he told me
that he thought I looked like a " reverend" but
I assured him I was not. We were led to a German
headquarters in a deep ravine where we were held a short
time while an additional guard saddled his horse. Further
back at an artillery headquarters, a number of officers
came out from their mess and spoke to us in English,
asking a few questions as to our identity, and examining
the papers taken from Lieutenant Badin's body. They
seemed to be pretty good sports, and as
fellow-artillerymen guyed us for being taken prisoners. I
told him that we had come part way at least to Germany on
an excellent German ship, the Vaterland.
Our march continued through Langon and across the Aisne
to La Bois-de-Lord-Ferme which was being used as a
brigade headquarters. The road was being heavily shelled
by 155's. At the ferme, we were asked a number of
questions, mostly of little importance, by some young
officers who spoke English. One said he had lived in
Spokane, Washington, and when I told him I had been
there, he asked if I remembered the name of the
restaurant next to the Hotel Davenport, where he used to
take his girl on Saturday nights! After a stop of perhaps
half an hour, the march was resumed, taking us through
Grand Ham and up the Aire valley to Grand Pre. On the
way, we crossed the Aire a second time, and then came the
closest call from our own 155 shells. They were falling
just off the road in a field where a wagon train was
parked and we gleefully watched the frantic efforts of
the German drivers to get out. As we were about to cross
a bridge, a shell dropped in the water ten feet from us.
Our guard cautioned us to " Macht schnell! "
and needless to say, we did! Shortly before entering
Grand Pre a fat little German walked along with us and
inquired in good English:
"Where are you gentlemen from?"
We told him.
"I am from San Francisco," he replied.
To my question, " Why in hell didn't you stay there?
" his only answer was:
" I wish I had! "
We reached Grand Pre at dusk and while awaiting an
automobile to take us to corps headquarters, we had the
only good meal the Germans ever gave us during our two
months' visit. It consisted of Hamburger steak, noodles,
Swiss-cheese, bread, and tea.
At the division we were not questioned. An automobile
took us a short distance to the little town of Briquenay,
where we were taken before two officers, apparently
Prussians, who appeared to be in a highly nervous
condition. We were ordered to empty our pockets, and were
relieved of all our letters and papers, but were allowed
to keep our money. We were questioned on a number of
subjects. When asked the location of our front line, we
replied that if we had known we certainly would not now
have been in our present predicament. Our answers were
evidently by no means satisfactory, for we were soon
taken out and thrust into a cell with a motley crowd of
soldiers, including American negroes. The few bunks were
already occupied, and there was nothing for it but to lie
on the dirt floor with no covering except my raincoat.
At about eight o'clock the next morning we were marched
to Vouziers, a distance of fifteen kilometers, before a
mounted guard, and locked up in a room in an old house
surrounded by a high barbed-wire fence. The room had but
two other human occupants, an American infantry
lieutenant and a French aviator, but the " inhuman
" occupants which infested the bunks were numerous.
In the late afternoon, we were given the only food since
the previous night. It consisted of black bread and
" Ersatz " coffee, a coffee substitute which we
were told was made of acorns, and which tasted like
-well, I can't describe it!
During the four days we were held in Vouziers, a few more
American and French officers were added to our household.
Our daily menu was: breakfast-" Ersatz" coffee;
dinner-a thin soup of potato peelings or cabbage;
supper-coffee and bread.
The town was being bombarded by
long-range guns, and was also bombed several times a day
by large groups of Allied planes of which I counted
seventy one afternoon. Many German wounded passed by in
ambulances and on foot, and an almost continuous stream
of wagons filled with furniture, forage, rabbits, and
anything else that struck the German fancy, rumbled by.
Our "house" was in charge of a disagreeable
lieutenant who interviewed us several times. On one
occasion he complained that the Allies were using
"black men" against the Germans. I rather
peeved him by replying, "How about your allies the
Turks? They have done things no man would do! "
On October 2d, all prisoners, including over a hundred
French soldiers and a few Americans, were assembled in
the yard of the old French barracks and marched sixteen
kilometers to Le Chesne. There we were housed for six
days in a good sized building with a central courtyard.
The officers, then nine in number, were put into one
small room furnished with bunks and several varieties of
insects. The room was not locked and we were permitted to
be in the yard as much as we wished until dark. Although
we had the same scanty menu as at Vouziers, we succeeded
in buying an occasional pitcher of beer and some German
cigarettes-very small, very poor, and very expensive.
On October 8th, we hiked twenty-five kilometers further
to Amagne-Lucquy, where we entrained the next night. We
traveled until five the following afternoon in a
third-class coach without glass in the windows and
without food. But on our arrival at Metz, we were given
coffee, bread, and raw sausage. We entrained again at
nine o'clock. While waiting in the station, the city was
bombed twice by Allied airplanes. At Strassburg the next
morning, we were allowed to buy a breakfast of sausage,
sandwiches, and tea.
We arrived at Karlsruhe that afternoon. It was the first
German city we had seen, and we were favorably impressed
with its neatness. The old hotel, which was our home,
looked most promising from the outside, but proved one of
the worst places we had struck. We were crowded eight in
a room behind a locked door-a small transom window the
only ventilation. We were permitted to leave the room
only to go across the hall to the wash room -and we had
no reading matter. A British officer warned us that the
place was equipped with dictaphones, but I doubt if the
Germans obtained any information other than Allied
samples of profanity. We were held here for six days and
then moved to the Allied Officers' Camp in the central
square of the city, a comfortable and well-equipped camp
with plenty of American canned goods furnished by the Red
Cross at Berne, Switzerland.
On October 18th, the American officers were assembled and
marched to the station to entrain for the American
Officers' Camp at Villingen in Southern Baden, which was
to be our "home" for the remainder of our stay
in Germany. We reached Villingen in the afternoon after a
fairly comfortable journey through beautiful mountainous
country. The Villingen Camp on the outskirts of the town,
was well planned and not uncomfortable. An enclosure
about three hundred by five hundred feet was surrounded
by a high barbed-wire fence and a ditch with trip-wires.
The low one-storied barracks, mess-buildings and offices
were built around the four sides, the center occupied by
an amusement hall and a number of smaller buildings,
among them a library, a music-room and a canteen. There
was also a volleyball court and an old tennis court built
by the Russian officers who had previously occupied the
camp.
The commander of the camp, a fat old lieutenant colonel,
was not a half-bad fellow. The day following our arrival,
he examined us through his inter-preter. The only
question that seemed really to interest him was whether
or not we knew his friend, the manager of the
Hamburg-American Line in New York. It is interesting to
note that the examining officer was invariably supplied
with a printed pamphlet giving the complete organization
of American divisions with the names of commanders, etc.,
as they had existed in the States. Changes since arrival
in France were not so well-known. Information of our
tanks, the " new Edison gas," and the air
service was always sought, but above all our questioners
seemed to desire to know our reasons for entering the
war.
The hundred or so American officers in the camp had their
lives pretty well organized. They had appointed
committees to take care of the library, athletic
entertainment, and Red Cross affairs, The last was by far
the most essential, for through it, the food and clothing
received from the American Red Cross was distributed. The
food question was most important. In the officers' prison
camps in Germany the ration furnished was supposed to be,
and I believe was, the full civilian ration. Although
that may seem large, as far as nourishment went it really
amounted to almost nothing-" Ersatz" coffee for
breakfast; a thin soup and a vegetable dish for dinner;
the same for supper, 250 grams of black bread each day,
and a piece of meat about two inches square once a week.
With the food furnished us by the American Government
through the Red Cross we had practically all we needed.
This was shipped in bulk in a sealed freight car from
Berne to Villingen with a bill of lading. It was received
by our committee and checked under German supervision. I
believe we got all that was sent to us, which was not
always the case with individual parcels that were sent to
detached groups. Our committee issued one week's ration
at a time to our small mess-groups of four or five. We
did our own cooking in our barracks, which we had
equipped at our own expense with small cook-stoves. These
proceedings were usually watched with hungry eyes by our
emaciated guards, for our supplies consisted of
attractive combinations of American army canned goods,
bully-beef, hash, salmon (God bless the goldfish!),
beans, a little jam, butter, milk, coffee, tea, sugar,
and hard bread. Once in a while a few " Sweet Caps
" would come through, -and believe me, I shall never
scorn them again. When there was a good supply of this
food we lost interest in the German ration except in
their potatoes, which were the best thing they had.
Our daily routine at Villingen was one that would make
any loafer happy,-no reveille or retreat,-only a
roll-call at nine, another after supper, and lights out
at ten. Unless you were K. P. or cook, you did nothing
but wonder how long the war would last. Some of our time
we spent reading the books the Y. M. C. A. had furnished,
playing volleyball, and cards, or walking around the
enclosure like caged animals. There were even walks
outside, for which you signed an agreement not to escape.
The country, in the Black Forest region, was beautiful,
and it was indeed pleasure to have no guards, a lone
German officer, or a non-com. being our only escort.
Once a week we were permitted to have a " movie,
" for which we had to pay. The pictures obviously
were of German make, especially the comedies. They were
as funny as a funeral. There was considerable talent
among our fellow-officers, musical and otherwise, which
helped these little entertainments. The Russian officers
had left some weird instruments, and with a hired piano,
a drum, and a few other essentials, we organized a pretty
fair jazz-band.
Several of the officers who read German subscribed to
some of the papers, so we received the news quite
promptly. By the time we had reached the camp, it was
evident that the lid was off the press, for the Allied
communiques were published in full. In the editorials
there were rumblings of the revolution which later
occurred. The camp, like every other place in the world
where there are soldiers, seethed with rumors, Some
officers who understood a little German would overhear
part of a conversation among the guards or the cooks, and
would promptly spread it with a few additions. We heard
of the Kaiser's abdication the ninth of November, and of
the terms of the armistice the tenth. They looked very
stiff, and for some time rumor had it they would not be
accepted, but on the morning of the eleventh, we learned
the truth. Happy we were, but I doubt if we were any more
so than our guards. They did nothing but grin.
A few days later, representatives of the Soldiers' and
Workingmen's Council arrived-fired the German lieutenant
colonel who commanded the camp, and told our senior
officer that we should no longer consider ourselves
prisoners, but rather "guests" of the new
German government. We were permitted to leave camp alone,
and to go anywhere we chose within a radius of five
kilometers from nine in the morning until six in the
evening. This freedom was a welcome change.
We took long walks through the forests and the
picturesque town. We discovered several cafes where wine
could be bought, and for a time German officers and
soldiers had difficulty in finding seats. The soldiers
often sat at the same tables with us, but the officers,
while not so amiable, were at least courteous. The
attitude of the civilians varied. But we were never
insulted. The children, like those in any part of the
world, were much interested in us because we were
foreigners, and the younger grown-ups were openly
friendly. The sour looks came from the older people,
naturally perhaps, as they had lost most. The lack of
proper nourishment showed plainly in the children's
faces, almost always thin and colorless.
Our semi-freedom continued until November 26th, when we
were moved in a first-class train to the German-Swiss
border, at Lake Constance. We were disappointed to learn
that we should have to wait there until the 29th, the day
after Thanksgiving, for the Swiss military train, which
was to carry us across Switzerland to France. November
29th was one of the most memorable days in our lives. In
the early morning we were marched to the station
along-side a long train of second-class carriages with a
guard of Swiss soldiers and officers, a fine-looking lot
in smart uniforms. We were held an hour, awaiting a train
bearing about four hundred British and French officers.
Near nine o'clock we got under way and a few minutes
later a wild shout went up as we crossed the line into
the Swiss part of the town.
Allied flags, which had been kept carefully hidden
appeared in the windows of most of the cars, while
similar flags were waved at us by the Swiss, who appeared
to have heard of our coming. From then on, until
midnight, when we crossed the French border at
Bellegrade, we felt like popular presidential candidates.
Everywhere we stopped we were cheered and showered with
food, chocolate, cigarettes, flags, and flowers. At
Berne, the American Red Cross and the Y. M. C. A. were
there strong with a bunch of real American
"peaches" to cheer us. I don't know why we
didn't all die from indigestion. While the Swiss were
cordial everywhere, they outdid themselves in Geneva,
where the whole town went wild. The borders of the
railroad were illuminated with red fire for several
miles, and the station and the big square outside were
packed with people. Here we serenaded the crowd, ending
up with the Star Spangled Banner sung in a way I have
never heard before. When we had done, the audience went
wild. It would have done credit to any American football
crowd for enthusiasm.
A half hour later we were again in
France, just two months and two days from that unhappy
day in the Argonne, when our prospects looked so black.
We may all have our own opinions on the relative merits
of France and America, but home never seemed better than
France did to us that early morning.
EDWARD P. HAMILTON,
First Lieutenant, 306th F. A.
Drawings by PHILIP VON SALTZA,
First Lieutenant, 306th F. A.