The enemy put up a stubborn resistance on the left, and it was not until later in the evening that this part of the line reached the northeast edge of the woods, after it had completely surrounded a most populous machine gun nest which was located on a rocky hill. During the fighting Colonel Catlin was wounded and Captain Laspierre, the French liaison officer, was ga.s.sed, two casualties which represented a distinct blow to the brigade, but did not hinder its further progress.
On the right Lieutenant Robertson, with twenty survivors out of his entire platoon, emerged from the terrific enemy barrage and took the town of Bouresches at the point of the bayonet. Captain Duncan, receiving word that one Marine company, with a determination to engage the enemy in hand-to-hand combat, had gone two hundred yards in advance, raced forward on the double quick with the 96th Marine Company, and was met by a terrific machine gun barrage from both sides of Bouresches.
Lieutenant Robertson, looking back, saw Duncan and the rest of his company going down like flies as they charged through the barrage. He saw Lieutenant Bowling get up from the ground, his face white with pain, and go stumbling ahead with a bullet in his shoulder. Duncan, carrying a stick and with his pipe in his mouth, was mowed down in the rain of lead. Robertson saw Dental Surgeon Osborne pick Duncan up. With the aid of a Hospital Corps man, they had just gained the shelter of some trees when a sh.e.l.l wiped all three of them out.
In the street fighting that ensued in Bouresches, Lieutenant Robertson"s orderly, Private Dunlavy, who was later killed in the defence of the town, captured one of the enemy"s own machine guns and turned it against them.
In the dense woods the Germans showed their mastery of machine gun manipulation and the method of infiltration by which they would place strong units in our rear and pour in a deadly fire. Many of these guns were located on rocky ridges, from which they could fire to all points.
These Marines worked with reckless courage against heavy odds, and the Germans exacted a heavy toll for every machine gun that was captured or disabled, but in spite of losses the Marine advance continued.
Lieutenant Overton, commanding the 76th Company, made a brilliant charge against a strong German position at the top of a rocky hill. He and his men captured all of the guns and all of their crews. Overton was. .h.i.t later when the Germans retaliated by a concentration of fire against the captured position for forty-eight hours.
Lieutenant Robertson, according to the report brought back by a regimental runner, was last seen flat on a rock not twenty yards away from one enemy gun, at which he kept shooting with an automatic in each hand. He was. .h.i.t three times before he consented to let his men carry him to the rear.
"There was not an officer left in the 82nd Company," according to a letter by Major Frank E. Evans, Adjutant of the Sixth. "Major Sibley and his Adjutant reorganised them under close fire and led them in a charge that put one particular machine gun nest out of business at the most critical time in all the fighting. I heard later that at that stage some one said: "Major Sibley ordered that--" and another man said: "Where in h.e.l.l is Sibley?" Sibley was twenty yards away at that time and a hush went down the line when they saw him step out to lead the charge.
"And when the word got around through that dead-tired, crippled outfit that "the Old Man" was on the line, all h.e.l.l could not have stopped that rush."
In such fashion did the Marines go through the Bois de Belleau. Their losses were heavy, but they did the work. The sacrifice was necessary.
Paris was in danger. The Marines const.i.tuted the thin line between the enemy and Paris. The Marines not only held that line--they pushed it forward.
The fighting was terrific. In one battalion alone the casualties numbered sixty-four per cent. officers and sixty-four per cent. men.
Several companies came out of the fighting under command of their first sergeants, all of the officers having been killed or wounded.
I witnessed some of that fighting. I was with the Marines at the opening of the battle. I never saw men charge to their death with finer spirit.
I am sorry that wounds prevented me from witnessing the victorious conclusion of the engagement. In view of my subsequent absence from the fight, I wish to give credit and thanks at this place to Major Frank E.
Evans, who as Adjutant of the 6th Regiment of Marines, provided me with much of the foregoing material which occurred while I was in the hospital.
The bravery of that Marine brigade in the Bois de Belleau fight will ever remain a bright chapter in the records of the American Army. For the performance of deeds of exceptional valour, more than a hundred Marines were awarded Distinguished Service Crosses. General Pershing, in recognition of the conduct of the Second Division, issued the following order:
"It is with inexpressible pride and satisfaction that your commander recounts your glorious deeds on the field of battle. In the early days of June on a front of twenty kilometres, after night marches and with only the reserve rations which you carried, you stood like a wall against the enemy advance on Paris. For this timely action you have received the thanks of the French people whose homes you saved and the generous praise of your comrades in arms.
"Since the organisation of our sector, in the face of strong opposition, you have advanced your lines two kilometres on a front of eight kilometres. You have engaged and defeated with great loss three German divisions and have occupied important strong points--Belleau Wood, Bouresches, and Vaux. You have taken about 1,400 prisoners, many machine guns, and much other material. The complete success of the infantry was made possible by the splendid co-operation of the artillery, by the aid and a.s.sistance of the engineer and signal troops, by the diligent and watchful care of the medical and supply services, and by the unceasing work of the well-organised staff. All elements of the division have worked together as a well-trained machine.
"Amid the dangers and trials of battle, every officer and every man has done well his part. Let the stirring deeds, hardships, and sacrifices of the past month remain forever a bright spot in our history. Let the sacred memory of our fallen comrades spur us on to renewed effort and to the glory of American arms."
All of the German prisoners captured by the Marines in the Bois de Belleau could express only surprise over the fighting capacity of their captors. Prisoners" statements are not entirely trustworthy, but here is one that was not intended for American consumption. It was written by a German soldier, who was killed in the Bois de Belleau before he had an opportunity to mail it. It was removed from his body. It reads:
"France, June 21, 1918.
"We are now in the battle zone and canteens dare not come to us on account of the enemy, for the Americans are bombarding the villages fifteen kilometres behind the present front with long-range guns, and you will know that the canteen outfit and the others who are lying in reserve do not venture very far, for it is not "pleasant to eat cherries" with the Americans. The reason for that is that they have not yet had much experience. The American divisions are still too fiery. They are the first divisions that the French have entered.... We will also show the Americans how good we are, for the day before yesterday we bombarded them heavily with our gas. About 400 of us are lying around here. We have one corner of the woods and the American has the other corner. That is not nice, for all of a sudden he rushes forward and one does not know it beforehand.
Therefore, one must shoot at every little noise, for one cannot trust them. Here always two men have dug a hold for themselves. Here one lies day and night without a blanket, only with a coat and a shelter-half. One freezes at night like a tailor, for the nights are fiercely cold. I hope that I will be lucky enough to escape from this horrible mess, for up to now I have always been lucky. Many of my comrades are already buried here. The enemy sweeps every evening the whole countryside with machine gun and rifle fire, and then artillery fire. But we in front line are safer than in the support position. At present our food is miserable. We are now fed upon dried vegetables and marmalade and when at night we obtain more food it is unpalatable. It is half sour and all cold. In the daytime we receive nothing."
But it might be wise to support this statement from a German soldier in the ranks by excerpts from an official German army report which was captured July 7th on a German officer. The doc.u.ment was a carefully weighed treatise on the fighting capacity of the United States Marines.
The doc.u.ment had the following heading:
_"Intelligence Officer of the Supreme Command at Army Headquarters, Number 7, J. Number 3,528, Army Headquarters, June 17, 1917._
_"Second American Infantry Division._
_"Examination of Prisoners from the 5th, 6th, 9th and 23rd Regiments, captured from June 5th to 14th, in the Bouresches Sector."_
After setting forth all information gained, concerning the purpose of attack and the arrival of the American units on the line, the German Intelligence Report continues, as follows:
"The Second American Division may be cla.s.sed as a very good division, perhaps even as a.s.sault troops. The various attacks of both regiments on Belleau Wood were carried out with dash and recklessness. The moral effect of our firearms did not materially check the advances of the enemy. The nerves of the Americans are still unshaken.
"VALUE OF THE INDIVIDUAL--the individual soldiers are very good.
They are healthy, vigorous, and physically well-developed men, of ages ranging from eighteen to twenty-eight, who at present lack only necessary training to make them redoubtable opponents. The troops are fresh and full of straightforward confidence. A remark of one of the prisoners is indicative of their spirit: "We kill or get killed."
"MORALE--the prisoners in general make an alert and pleasing impression. Regarding military matters, however, they do not show the slightest interest. Their superiors keep them purposely without knowledge of the military subjects. For example, most of them have never seen a map. They are no longer able to describe the villages and roads through which they marched. Their idea of the organisation of their unit is entirely confused. For example, one of them told us that his brigade had six regiments and his division twenty-four.
They still regard the war from the point of view of the "big brother" who comes to help his hard-pressed brethren and is therefore welcomed everywhere. A certain moral background is not lacking. The majority of the prisoners simply took as a matter of course that they have come to Europe to defend their country.
"Only a few of the troops are of pure American origin; the majority is of German, Dutch and Italian parentage, but these semi-Americans, almost all of whom were born in America and never have been in Europe before, fully feel themselves to be true born sons of their country.
(Signed) "VON BERG, "Lieutenant and Intelligence Officer."
Since the days I read Hugo"s chapters on the Battle of Waterloo in "Les Miserables," I always considered as an ideal of fighting capacity and the military spirit of sacrifice the old sergeant of Napoleon"s Old Guard. Hugo made me vividly see that old sergeant standing on a field with a meagre remnant of the Old Guard gathered around him. Unable to resist further, but unwilling to accept surrender, he and his followers faced the British cannon. The British, respecting this admirable demonstration of courage, ceased firing and called out to them, "Brave Frenchmen, surrender."
The old sergeant, who was about to die, refused to accept this offer of his life from the enemy. Into the very muzzles of the British cannon the sergeant hurled back the offer of his life with one word. That word was the vilest epithet in the French language. The cannons roared and the old sergeant and his survivors died with the word on their lips. Hugo wisely devoted an entire chapter to that single word.
But I have a new ideal to-day. I found it in the Bois de Belleau. A small platoon line of Marines lay on their faces and bellies under the trees at the edge of a wheat field. Two hundred yards across that flat field the enemy was located in trees. I peered into the trees but could see nothing, yet I knew that every leaf in the foliage screened scores of German machine guns that swept the field with lead. The bullets nipped the tops of the young wheat and ripped the bark from the trunks of the trees three feet from the ground on which the Marines lay. The minute for the Marine advance was approaching. An old gunnery sergeant commanded the platoon in the absence of the lieutenant, who had been shot and was out of the fight. This old sergeant was a Marine veteran.
His cheeks were bronzed with the wind and sun of the seven seas. The service bar across his left breast showed that he had fought in the Philippines, in Santo Domingo, at the walls of Pekin, and in the streets of Vera Cruz. I make no apologies for his language. Even if Hugo were not my precedent, I would make no apologies. To me his words were cla.s.sic, if not sacred.
As the minute for the advance arrived, he arose from the trees first and jumped out onto the exposed edge of that field that ran with lead, across which he and his men were to charge. Then he turned to give the charge order to the men of his platoon--his mates--the men he loved. He said:
"COME ON, YOU SONS-O"-b.i.t.c.hES! DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?"
CHAPTER XVI
WOUNDED--HOW IT FEELS TO BE SHOT
Just how does it feel to be shot on the field of battle? Just what is the exact sensation when a bullet burns its way through your flesh or crashes through your bones?
I always wanted to know. As a police reporter I "covered" scores of shooting cases, but I could never learn from the victims what the precise feeling was as the piece of lead struck. For long years I had cherished an inordinate curiosity to know that sensation, if possible, without experiencing it. I was curious and eager for enlightenment just as I am still anxious to know how it is that some people willingly drink b.u.t.termilk when it isn"t compulsory.
I am still in the dark concerning the inexplicable taste for the sour, clotted product of a sweet, well-meaning cow and the b.u.t.tery, but I have found out how it feels to be shot. I know it now by experience.
Three Germans bullets that violated my person left me as many scars and at the same time completely satisfied my curiosity. I think now if I can ever muster up enough courage to drink a gla.s.s of b.u.t.termilk, I shall have bereft myself of my last inquisitiveness.
It happened on June 6th just to the northwest of Chateau-Thierry in the Bois de Belleau. On the morning of that day I left Paris by motor for a rush to the front. The Germans were on that day within forty miles of the capital of France. On the night before, the citizens of Paris, in their homes and hotels, had heard the roll of the guns drawing ever nearer. Many had left the city.
But American divisions were in the line between the enemy and their goal, and the operation of these divisions was my object in hustling to the front. On the broad, paved highway from Paris to Meaux, my car pa.s.sed miles and miles of loaded motor trucks bound frontward. Long lines of these carried thousands of Americans. Other long lines were loaded down with sh.e.l.ls and cartridge boxes. On the right side of the road, bound for Paris and points back of the line, was an endless stream of ambulances and other motor trucks bringing back wounded. Dense clouds of dust hung like a pall over the length of the road. The day was hot, the dust was stifling.