Phase II - World War I

Some of my activities from 1917 to 1920, with emphasis on occurrences while in France, for 17 months, 3/16/18 to 8/26/19, during World War I -- "The War to End all Wars," they said.

• After completing high school and more than 1-1/2 years at U. of T. (where I had R.O.T.C. training) entered 1st Officers Training Camp 5-12-1917, at Ft. Oglethorpe, Ga.  This was three months intensive infantry training.  I was happy to be one of the 90 to survive from my company of 190 and was commissioned a 2nd Lieut. August 15, 1917.  After 6 months additional training at Columbia, S. C., and Jacksonville, Fla. (a good place to spend that awful cold winter) many of us were sent to Camp Meade, Washington, D. C., for further tests.  Several more were booed there.
  
  
• Upon arriving in Columbia., S. C., September 1917, Camp Jackson was not ready to accept the hundreds of arrivals.  After all rooming houses and hotels were filled many slept in churches, in parks, and in private homes.  I was fortunate (as were three others) to be asked to Mr. and Mrs. E. W. Parker's home at 1710 Bull Street.  I remained there two weeks.  The Parkers would accept nothing for lodging and three (3) meals daily.  When camp was completed they came for me each Friday evening and returned me to camp Sunday afternoon.  After my arrival in France we corresponded regularly.  The Parkers appreciated my writing and said I was the only one (of many they had in their home) who ever wrote to them.  They felt through me they had a part in the war.  I was grateful for their hospitality.
  
  
• I sailed for France March 6, 1918, on the Great Northern, a fast ship and the first troop ship to sail without an escort. The night the submarine zone was approached we had orders not to undress.  On board were thousands of troops and much equipment.  This night I was assigned duty in the hole, bottom deck.  Hammocks were 3 and 4 high and crammed very close.  Most all were seasick and vomiting.  The ocean was rough and as the ship rolled the vomit on the floor would slosh over my shoe tops.  When relief came at midnight I went topside and laid across my bunk, deathly sick.  About 4 A.M. it seemed "all hell" broke loose suddenly.  A very loud, weird siren began giving forth with a most agonizing sound -- the big guns, both stern and forward, were firing rapidly, and depth bombs being dropped.  Added to this activity, just realizing we were out in the big ocean alone -- the night pitch dark -- with a howling wind, and the ship's heavy rolling all accentuated the dilemma.  The weird siren's belching was a signal for all the thousands to go at once to their assigned life boats.  The order was never given to lower them.  'Tis well, they couldn't successfully have been lowered, ocean too rough, and the wind too strong -- at times water would splash over the top deck.  The report was two torpedoes had been fired at our ship. A new device was being used for the first time -- indicating when and from what direction a torpedo was fired, permitting the ship to dodge it.  I know one thing for sure, our ship was doing some fast maneuvering.  There was no hysteria on board -- no ignorance in action.  Some time later two American destroyers came to our rescue and escorted us to Brest.  It was beautiful to see those American flags waving as the destroyers zig-zagged in front and on either side, and reassuring to stand on deck after daylight in a bright sun and a calm ocean, and to know help and protection was with us. Just "how close," yes.
  
  
• My first permanent assignment 4-7-1918, was Assistant Railhead Officer at Azerailles, France, located in Meurth and Moselle Province -- near the front -- and the first night I didn't sleep a wink, because of the roar of the big guns and knowing anything could happen.  Life up there was hard and challenging, no dull moments, very little leisure time.  I became Railhead Officer October 14, 1918, succeeding Major W. W. Chamberlain (wonderful man, who in civilian life was sales manager for Chevrolet in Detroit).  He became "shell shocked" and was assigned duty back at our headquarters.  My Railhead was one of seven located from Switzerland to Belgium.  We usually supplied about 30,000 troops, several thousand horses and mules -- and at times twice this amount.  I was the only Railhead Officer with the rank of 2nd Lieut., most were Captains and Majors.
  
  
• Returning from an Elsie Janis Army Concert at Baccarat one rainy midnight (we had been kept inside two hours -- being bombed).  No car lights -- hitting and killing an "expensive" cow in the road.  All in the car "shook up" no serious injuries.  I wasn't driving.
  
  
• An interesting incident is recalled that happened when the 42nd division moved into our sector.  General Douglas McArthur (the executive officer) sent a memorandum to me specifying I increase the amount of certain items to their troops over and above regulations.  I did not comply.  My headquarters was contacted that evening, advising them of the memo.  They directed me to visit General McArthur and read to him certain passages from the official manual.  I did, and, when finished, he thanked me.  Have often wondered about this after he became an illustrious General and leader.
  
  
• At Azerailles we were shelled every day, especially about 10 P.M.  Our warehouses were built in the middle of a long hill, sloping away from the German lines.  It was easy to hit the top of the hill above us, or to shoot beyond our station.  However, two close calls come to mind.  One afternoon a bomb (from an airplane) seemed to be coming directly on my head (jumped into a ditch).  It entered the ground -- never exploded -- about 50 feet from me.  Another time at night a big bomb exploded not far from my bedroom window.  The concussion knocked me out of bed into the middle of the floor how close?, again.  This bomb cut niches in a big pile of live bombs nearby.  They were moved the next day.  Troops coming in or leaving traveled only at night.
  
  
• Before entering the army I had a date with Nell Mae Giddeon.  Well, one Sunday afternoon while watching an aeroplane "dog fight" between about 15 French and Germans, Nell Mae's picture came to mind, some three years after that one date -- what an impression she must have made.  This picture persisted, so in a few days I sent her a copy of Stars & Stripes.  That was the beginning of the end of bachelorhood.
  
  
• The frustrated French -- one Sunday is vivid in my mind -- for memory of an incident to last so long it had to be unusual and frustrating.  All along the front -- back about two or three miles from the front -- the Allies used observation captive (fastened to a big truck by cable) balloons.  A basket was attached for observers, with powerful binoculars.  There were no helicopters, or high flying spy planes.  One of these balloons was stationed between our station and the front.  The French had difficulty in keeping it up.  A German Ace, using a small very fast fighter aluminum plane (then actually unique) came over shooting tracer bullets, destroying each balloon put up.  The French had no plane to match the Germans' speed.  For many days the French made elaborate preparations to destroy the German.  They brought dozens of the 75 millimeter guns (small cannons) and placed them, surrounding the balloon that only had dummies in the basket.  Finally, about 1 P.M., we observed a tiny speck high in the sky -- circling and descending.  It was the German Ace.  When he was a few thousand feet high he made a dive for the balloon.  The French opened up with all the 75s, hundreds of shells bursting filled the air.  The plane was not hit -- neither was the balloon destroyed.  The German made two more dives, destroying the balloon on his third dive -- then flew back to Germany.  The French brought back on the road all their 75s -- literally muttering to themselves.  They were so exasperated.
  
  
• The French 75 mm gun was what amounted to a secret weapon, as Germany nor the U. S. had anything as effective in quantities, although it failed as stated above.  I have two of the empty 75 shells.  A wounded French soldier handcarved the Alsace Wreath on one and the Lorraine Cross on the other -- took him two weeks.
  
  
• Each Railhead Officer was assigned an automobile (with a chauffeur) and a motorcycle.  I used the motorcycle to inspect a reserve supply of rations stored back about 10 miles from the front.  Returning one night -- to escape a German shelling -- opened the throttle wide, no lights, but was familiar with the road.  Suddenly hit a soft spot (that wasn't there in the A.M.), lost control and swerved to the right, but soon straightened on firm ground.  Next morning went back to check.  The French had brought red clay to repair the road, dampened it, preparing to roll with a big roller.  My motorcycle tracks showed I was headed straight toward the roller, and veered smoothly around it.  If I had hit the machine would, no doubt, have been killed instantly.  God was my pilot that night, and other times, too, for which I am thankful and grateful.
  
  
• After becoming Railhead Officer, the Mayor of Azerailles had me to his home for dinner, also present were his wife, an 18-year-old daughter and the Mayor's mother.  I could speak enough French for simple conversation.  During dinner the mayor's wife said to me, "Oh, yes, I know why you went up to Luneville" (20 miles).  I asked her why.  She said "pour couche avec la femmes" (to lay with the women).  I assured her that wasn't the reason, but was non-plussed, as that was my first experience with the openness of the French in discussing sexual and other subjects.  Later on during the meal the daughter asked that I let her know the next time I was going to Luneville as she would like to accompany me.  In my car a positive no-no.
  
  
• Across the street from the Mayor's home -- on the side walk -- was a public (male) urinal, enclosed about 5 feet high.  All French cities have them.
  
  
• My first leave in France was to Nice on the Mediterranean adjoining Monaco, where Monte Carlo is located.  The first night there I saw four former school friends.  It is beautiful all along the French Riviera.  High above and paralleling the Mediterranean is a narrow road in the lower Alps which offers a magnificent view.  To gamble in the casino, American servicemen had to change to civilian clothes, however, we could watch all we pleased in uniform.  I had only army clothes.  It was interesting to watch the agonizing faces of men and women when losing.
  
  
• Traveling down toward the Swiss border, on order from my headquarters, hunting for a regiment of "lost" infantry.  Going from place to place, late in the afternoon, finally located where they had been five days previously, before moving across a spur of the Vosage Mountains into the French front lines.  There were two roads leading to their location.  One straight across, and the other about 15 miles farther, going north then around the spur of the mountain.  I started straight across, but the Germans began shelling the road, so had to retreat and try the long way.  The night was very dark, and a cold rain falling -- we couldn't burn our car lights.  Going up a hill around a curve a big French truck coming on our side of the road hit my car head on, knocking it (my car) through a tall camouflaged fence into a level meadow, with the front wheels bent outward.  Again, "how close"?  It could have been down a cliff.  A quandary?  Yes.  It was now about 10 P.M.  I left the chauffeur with the car to try to get it back on the road, and started walking toward my destination, pistol in hand, apprehensive every step.  After walking about one hour I was suddenly challenged, which proved to be one of the lost regiment's sentry.  He took me to his officer, who awakened his commanding officer, and he in turn had his supply officer and sergeants awakened.  They were pleased indeed to see me.  We worked all night listing the things needed which was everything, food, clothing, ammunition, etc.  About daylight the colonel furnished a car for me to return to my station, picking up mine and towing it.
  
  Note:  I've wondered many times why didn't we spend the night in the little town where we ate supper.  If we had we wouldn't have been knocked through the camouflaged fence -- but we would have been a day later in bringing relief to the lost battalion.  Why?  I'll never know.
  
  
• One late afternoon we saw a plane coming high over Germany -- looked to be disabled.  It alternately glided and used power -- and gradually descending.  It finally landed in a field about 400 yards from our Railhead.  We were not sure of its nationality, but started toward it.  As we got closer saw a machine gun pointed toward us.  The plane was a British bomber out of gas -- its tank had been hit by shrapnel.  The pilot thought he was still over Germany, and was prepared to fight to prevent capture.  He was pleased finding Americans.  We gave him food and lodging for 3 days.  His outfit (up toward the North Sea) sent a dismantling crew for the plane and transportation for him.
  
  
• Recalling two "NOT according to regulation" incidents while on the front (there were others), none for self benefit:
  
  1. In an emergency I loaned (strictly forbidden) my car to a Motor Transport outfit for a trip to Luneville.  While there it was stolen.  A factual report was sent to my headquarters at Issurtille.  Motorcycle riders were dispatched all along the front and in a few days found it (my car) up near Belgium -- stripped.  It was re-built by the Transport outfit.
  
  2. While assigned to my Railhead, the 37th Division had an emergency need for extra gasoline.  Unable to secure it in time by requisition, went to a French Army gasoline station a few miles away.  They refused me any (it would have been replaced or paid for).  Returning to my station for a truck load of armed troops, then returned to the French, secured the gas needed.  Left a signed receipt, sending a copy (with explanation) to my Headquarters.  Since, I've shuddered thinking of the possible consequences.
  
  Was not censured for either of these irregularities.  For possible explanation see a future paragraph.
  
  
• A simple heart-rending episode.  One day an American Red Cross train came to our front to evacuate many wounded soldiers from a nearby hospital.  Previously we had only seen in our sector the small French engines and dingy little coaches marked "40 hummes (men) 8 chevals (horses)."  The big, powerful locomotive with two American flags gently waving, the 12 to 15 beautiful Red Cross pullmans, the enchanting Red Cross nurses at the windows waving and eagerly looking at the conditions "at the front" passed majestically.  I saw tears trickle down many battle-tested faces.  Should they have looked at me, the same would have been seen.  This scene I suppose just awakened the nostalgia in us.
  
  
• Watching another "dog fight" between French and German, a German plane was brought down in flame -- landed about a mile toward the front line from our Railhead.  Three or four of us went to see the condition of the plane.  It was burning, so was the strapped-in dead pilot -- a horrible scene.  The Germans began shelling the downed plane to prevent the Allies from obtaining information.  We performed a hurried exit.
  
  
• We had numerous Armistice false alarms in France, same as in the United States.  The actual day of the Armistice November 11, 1918, I was on a mission north toward Tours, beyond Luneville, but did not know this was the actual day.
  
  
• Thousands of American troops were passed all morning, going toward my Railhead.  I learned later a wide sweeping American offensive was in the making to cut the German Army at Metz.  My station would have been in the center of the drive.  I had been receiving some extra supplies, but had not known why.  Returning to my station in the afternoon, the French were simply wild with joy -- they had been at war so long and most of it fought on their soil.
  
  
• Each Railhead Officer had the authority to grant the Railhead personnel 3 day leaves -- usually to Paris.  However the third day after the Armistice, two sergeants and I went across the Vosges Mountains to Strasbourg.
  
  
• After the Armistice, my Railhead was closed December 14, 1918, and I was transferred to Bourbon les Bains -- near Joan of Arc's birthplace -- as Railhead Officer.  While here, February 13, 1919, I received notice of promotion to 1st Lieutenant.  Soon I began receiving congratulations from each of the 15 sergeants and corporals formerly assigned to my Railhead up at Azerailles.  This was very pleasing to me, because it proved they appreciated being treated as "men," although at times the work was demanding.
  
  
• Also, had another congratulation from my former Commanding Officer, who asked that my "Record Book" be sent to him. When it  was returned the following notation was made under "remarks":  "Lieutenant Campbell has been under my direction and observation since assigned to Regulation Station A, in June 1918.  Lieutenant Campbell has exercised rare tact and efficiency in the distribution of supplies and handling of troops at the front.  His promotion to 1st Lieutenant was due to special merit, his character is excellent."
  (Signed) W. W. Chamberlain, Maj. Q.M.C.
  Regulation Station A, APO 712
  May 12, 1919
  
  
• While awaiting re-assignment at Issurtille after closing the Railhead at Bourbon les Bains, the Commanding Officer at the big S.O.S. base invited me to be his guest at the local army theatre three (3) different occasions.  I thought this rare and finally asked him "Why?".  He replied, "We have made many investigations of all Railhead officers, especially at the front, and you have the best record of any."  Humble and proud?  Yes:  And just possibly this answered why I was not censured -- or even court-martialed for going against regulations in emergencies.
  
  
• Gradually all Americans were moved back toward embarkation ports.  My assignment was at Brest, where I went aboard each ship carrying troops back to the States and arranged for the placing on board dungarees, caskets, and embalming fluid.  In Brest I lived with a lovely French family, Corre's.  After three months at Brest, orders to come home were received.  But the following day orders, dated prior, came granting me a two weeks' leave to Great Britain.
  
  
• While in London about 30 Americans and I (staying at same hotel) rented a bus and private guide, for two days' sightseeing.  Standing above the Thames River -- across from Big Ben -- the guide was extolling the importance of the Thames.  A big, raw-boned boy from Kansas said, "You have been telling of the importance of the Thames, whereas it doesn't compare with a river near my home."  The guide asked its name.  The Kansan replied, "The mighty Mississippi."  The guide hesitated, then said, "My friend, there's no comparison; your mighty Mississippi is merely a big stream of muddy water, whereas the Thames is liquid history."  I learned that day it is important to consider the other's viewpoint.  From London, Edinburgh, Scotland, was visited, then by stage and boat (across Loch Lomond) and the Irish Sea over to Belfast, Ireland, and on down to Dublin, then back across the Irish Sea to London.
  
  
• The first morning in Belfast (Northern Ireland) while waiting to cross a street, a man in a one horse two-wheel cart passed shouting angrily at me.  A man standing near me asked if I were an American.  He so informed my tormentor, who then smiled -- waved and moved on.  My interceder explained the angry man thought I was British.
  
  
• Crossing the turbulent English Channel, I arrived back in Paris July 16, 1919, the night after selected troops from all 27 allied armies were the first to go through, or under, the Arc de Triomphe since 1871 (see note below) down the fabulous Champs Elyseé to Place de la Concorde.  Five million people lined on either side -- some had held vantage points for three days, being relieved occasionally by friends or family.  Paris was glittering with hundreds of thousands at 2 A.M. when I arrived, still celebrating in every conceivable manner.  Many streets closed to vehicular traffic.  It was not advisable to be on the streets alone.  Thugs?  No.  Mademoiselles?  Yes.  It was fortunate that I had previously made reservation at the Grand Hotel.
  
  Note:  Arc de Triomphe is located W. end Champs Elyseé, in the middle of Place de l'Etole (Square of Stars), where 12 avenues converge.  Napoleon I began the Arc 1806, as a monument to his troops.  King Louis Philippi I completed it in 1836.  It is 160 feet high and 146 wide.  The inner walls contain the names of 396 Napoleon's generals and 96 of his victories.  France was decisively defeated in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71.  When the last German departed the Arc was closed (chained) and no one went under it until July 15, 1919.
  
  
• Flash-back Memories:  In Meurth and Moselle Province in N Eastern France (where I was stationed) the farm homes were built in a group -- the farms some distance away.  The barn or room for animals adjoined the home and the refuse piled just outside the home.  Females working in the fields -- all younger males away in the war, horses, too.  The French drank wine with meals -- never water -- and always cleaned the plate completely.  They never ate corn -- said corn was for horses.  We had to chemically treat or boil drinking water.  Two items I craved to eat -- apple butter and corn bread -- couldn't get either.  Looking all day for chocolates in Paris -- found none.  All tree twigs were saved, tied in very tight bundles for fire wood the French were frugal.  Most country roads never dug up to repair, but clay placed on top and rolled.  Many built in Napoleon's reign, in the early 1800's.  The major railroads and highways converge at Paris, and radiate from there.  French mayors were appointed by government in Paris.  Nice French girls wouldn't openly speak to American service men or walk with them on the street even if a friend or acquainted.  Took many pictures:  (1) One of a French peasant lady, wearing wooden shoes, driving cows, pulling a small wagon, just after a German bomb burst nearby, covering her and the cows with dirt. (2) The Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe in Paris, (3) Big Ben and Buckingham Palace, London, (4) Sir Walter Scott's monument in Edinburgh, etc., and had one made of me climbing a rope ladder to top deck of the Leviathan (14 stories from bottom to top).
  
  
• Certificate of Identity, kept with me, showing I weighed 175 lbs. (now 170), 6 ft. tall, blue eyes, etc., and stating ... "if captured is entitled to priviledges of prisoners of war" ... etc.  Luckily never had to show it.
  
  
• A beautiful land-fall on returning from the "war to end all wars."  A 14-day voyage (6 days in going over) from France -- pent emotions erupted in tearful banter by thousands cramming the decks as we approached Newport News, Virginia, August 4, 1919.  Seeing one's native land, loved ones and friends, was the one thing most desired by U. S. servicemen.  Many never made it.  How are we (how am I) going to atone for their sacrifice?
  
  
• I was discharged 8/26/19 -- honorably.