 Section 1 of In Italy with the 332nd Infantry This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org In Italy with the 332nd Infantry by Joseph L. Letow Section 1 Introduction The 332nd Infantry Regiment, N.A., was organized in the early days of September 1917 at Camp Sherman, Ohio, around a nucleus of four commissioned officers and about 30 enlisted men of the regular army. The first selectives arrived at Camp September 5, 1917. And from that day until the regiment's departure for Europe, the personnel was constantly changing. Newly arrived men being trained for a few months and then being sent to other camps and overseas. All the necessary shots in the back, drills, hikes, rifle practice, bayonet work, signaling, tent pitching and kitchen police were gone through and at last on May 24, 1918, with ranks filled and hopes high, we boarded the train for Camp Merritt, New Jersey. After weary 12 days here of endless clothing checks, physical examinations and dripping letters to loved ones, we proceeded to Hoboken, crossed the river to the majestic Aquitania, 2nd largest ship afloat, and went to our, err, state rooms. We were too much filled with curiosity to explore this huge vessel to think much of the coming dangers. We lay next to the pier until the morning of June 8, when to our disgust, we were ordered below until the ship should have cleared the harbor. So we left America without even the slight consolation of wafting a kiss to Miss Liberty, whose features we were not to see for ten long weary months. Besides the 332nd Infantry, there were aboard Major General Glenn with his staff and about 2,000 men of medical units. To our great surprise and a twinge of misgiving, we had no escort after the first day out and this were the U-boats spreading terror along our coast. At this time, even Coney Island had been darkened at night. However, the Aquitania had speed as well as grace in it would have required a fast U-boat to drive a torpedo into her side as she sped on her zigzag course. The weather was perfect and we proceeded without adventure until the 4th day out when someone sighed at what he thought was the periscope of a submarine. I think he must have been a medic. At any rate, his loudly voiced cry started a small panic which might have reached disastrous dimensions, had not word suddenly come that the object sighed it was a floating buoy used by the transports for a target in practice firing. Some of the most intensely interesting minutes aboard were spent watching the little three inch guns which every few minutes turned on their pivots as they followed each suspicious looking object in the water. There were not enough gunners so several dough boys were detailed to render assistance. Besides these guardians of the public welfare, the regular guard was stationed at various points on the ship, the companies taking their turn at guard duty. By way of showing the submarines what they thought of them, our excellent band gave several greatly enjoyed concerts on the open deck. On the morning of June 15th, Ireland was sited and before noon we had passed up the River Mersey and stood on land once more in the city of Liverpool, England. Our stay here was confined to a walk from the pier to a railroad station about two miles away. The English cordially welcomed us and sent us off with a boys band conducted by a genial elderly man. The ride from Liverpool and the peculiar little English coaches took us across the rich farmlands of southern England. We passed through so many tunnels that when I think of England, I think of tunnels broken here and there by little towns containing little brook houses bordered by pretty little gardens most neatly kept. Arriving at Southampton, we hiked miles to a rest camp. I would not dare mention these two words in the vicinity of a dough boy, for it is true we do not understand the English language as our English friends do. Imagine yourself and twelve others occupying a tent made for eight in this tent luxuriously furnished with a wooden floor and a tent pole. Then imagine resting out of bed consisting of the contents of your pack, namely two blankets, one mask kit, one shelter half, one rope, one tent pole, five pins, one suit of BVDs, two pairs of socks, and a pair of shoelaces. Keep your picture moving and imagine the task of collecting your property in the morning and making a neat roll. And this is what they call a rest camp. We began to take war seriously. If this is a rest camp, we thought why but figure it out for yourself. Indeed, we were glad to leave Southampton on the cattle boats which awaited us. End of section one. Section two of In Italy with the 332nd Infantry. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. In Italy with the 332nd Infantry by Joseph L. Letow. Chapter one. France. France at last. Early on the morning of June 17, 1918, a little cattle boat having safely traversed the submarine-invested channel steamed into the ancient harbor of Havre. In the gray morning not much of the town could be seen and anyway we were too busy to admire the scenery. Companies were formed and trucks loaded and we started for the camp, our eyes wide with curiosity. For we were in France, that land of which we had heard so much for the last two years. I retain an impression of a dusty, aged wasted city of old brick and stone buildings. The shopkeepers' signs were interesting and mysterious. As we moved away from the business district, we passed many piles of ammunition and cannon guarded by Algerian soldiers. It was edifying to see these colored soldiers snap to attention. Everywhere, however, our passage was marked for the absence of anything like a greeting from the natives. We wondered. In America on the train racing to the coast, whistles shrieked, bells rang and people cheered. In England, bands played and people loudly applauded. Yet here in France, to whose immediate aid we were rushing, no word of welcome came to us. It was grim. Did France think that America was too slow? Was France too sorrowful at her losses? Did she think that these dressed up shopmen, farmers and clerks were poor substitutes for her own brave who had died in the vain attempt to stem the German tide? Whatever her thoughts, we saw nothing to confirm the prevalent idea that the French are an excitable people. Continuing through the winding streets, up and down hills, we came to a sandy, wire-enclosed field containing a few wooden buildings and many tents. It was a dreary looking place, and the painted signs giving directions to be followed in case of an air raid failed to put any humor in the situation. Outside the barbed wire fence, which held us prisoners, a sentinel paced up and down. On the street there were at times several boys waiting and begging for food or cigarettes. At Miltan the number increased and with them came women and girls begging for food. A walk around showed us that the camp was scarcely more than a makeshift, and we hoped we would not remain long. While here some of us had near-baths which we shall never forget. For an hour we stood in line waiting our turn to enter the bath house, and when at last we entered and had gotten soaked up, the water limit for the day was reached and the water was turned off. About noon of the eighteenth we moved from this camp. Luckily for us we were first at the train, and upon discovering that eight men and all their equipment, irrespective of rank, accepting commission officers, were to be jammed into one compartment made for eight to sit in, and that we were to spend the night there. We began to consider the matter seriously. Before long one of the boys unfolded a plan, and a moment later three busier sergeants major than we three could not have been found. We turned baggage smashers, and in a few minutes a whole second class compartment was empty, and later some of the officers discovered that there were as many as three of them to a compartment. Our ride across France took us close to Paris, but as we passed at night we did not see it. France is beautiful. There was the same orderliness that we noticed in England, except that there was more evidence of recent neglect. The hedges along the tracks, which in other days had been so well kept, now showed lack of attention. Cattle were few and far between, and no young men were seen except those in uniform. On the afternoon of the 19th we arrived at a town named Foulon, however we remained in the cars until darkness. We saw no reason for wasting these daylight hours, but later learned that troop movements were allowed only under cover of darkness. Where are we? Do you think we're near the front? Isn't this a blank of a place to stop? These were the unanswerable questions we asked each other. At last we were ordered from the train. The companies except one were formed and marched away into the dark silent rainy night. As usual we attended to the loading of our boxes and when this was accomplished we climbed aboard the truck. Just about this time, however, the officer who had been left behind to supervise the loading of supplies saw us on top of the truck. With angry voice he wanted to know what we were doing there, and before anyone mustered up courage to present an alibi, he ordered us off, leaving only a half dozen aboard to unload the baggage. Sorrowfully we climbed down, but we left our packs on the truck and we felt that we had slipped one over at any rate. At eleven o'clock we fell in behind Sea Company and began the memorable march to Mondres. The rain had ceased and the night was now truly beautiful. The stars above shone brightly and as we marched up the valley alongside a silvery canal flanked on both sides by cool whispering trees, we found it difficult to believe that a desperate battle raged a few miles away. We walked at a good pace for fifty minutes and then rested ten minutes according to the army marching rules. Of course we smoked a cigarette, but Doe Boy's best friend, and enjoyed for the time the coolness and quiet. It was difficult to get up and continue the march, and long before the next rust period came our feet were dragging. How these lads with heavy packs stood it is difficult to understand. Remember that for about forty hours we had been riding into space that scarcely permitted stretching. When the order came for the second rust period the stars as interesting phenomena had lost their charm. Even a cigarette was unattractive. We wanted to lie down and sleep, sleep, sleep. When the order to fall in came again we stumbled to our feet and actually fell in. The next hour was torture. Never did we want rust so much. Now and then we sighted a town ahead and our spirits rose, but always it seemed our town was further on. Why are there so many hills in France? Will we never get to that town? Is the captain on the right road? These thoughts filled our minds and I believe some of the men walked in their sleep. This condition was not exceptional. It was the general feeling. Everything ends and at last we had climbed our last hill and had arrived in the muddy street of a quaint little stone house town. Lights began to twinkle here and there and people came out to see their first American soldiers. It was two a.m. I understand that we were going into billets but it seemed impossible to find room for one thousand men in these few houses. At length several detachments moved away. Some of these men climbed ladders and disappeared into attics and haylofts. Others passed from view into cellars and barns. So these are billets. After our detachment had stood in the road many minutes we began to realize that unless we ourselves found a place to sleep we would very likely be there in the road until daybreak. Therefore we marched up the street and found a newly constructed wooden building. Entered it, picked up this office looking piece of wood and went to bed. We who stopped in Mondres were fortunate as the second and third battalions were stationed four or five miles beyond Mondres. In the morning after a breakfast of canned willy, canned tomatoes and crackers we located regimental headquarters. Later we learned that there were rooms for some of us. We had pictured a hayloft at best but when we found that we had drawn rooms containing real beds we were pleased beyond description. Two of us were billeted in the home of an old lady who smiled and talked incessantly. But since our French was in its infancy and had not reached the talking stage we could only grin at her and say we we whenever it appeared time. However we got along famously. When the lady finally bowed herself out we examined the room. The bed drew our attention immediately. It was not six feet long. I am and I know the bed was not and it stood about four feet from the floor. The odd thing about it was a sort of feather bed on top of the covers. We could never learn to use it as a cover but always lovingly put it upon the floor whenever we did not fear the ladies coming. One of the covers was made entirely of heavy exquisite lace, pretty to look at, but not half as warm as our three thin blankets. There were two pictures on the wall, both of young soldiers, and we knew why the old lady was so kind to us. A dresser and a stand with bowl and pitcher completed the room. Simple it was but a mansion compared to what we expected. The companies were put to work immediately. Those men who had offended were given the task of rendering a town sanitary that had been unsanitary since the first man in his cow had come to live there. The others embarked upon a six weeks training schedule, the author of which evidently had never heard of relaxation. From early morning when the bugle blew assembly, khaki clad youths came down ladders, out of cellars, out of barns and out of houses. And throughout the day, pausing only at noon, American cries and activities resounded through the ordinarily quiet village until nightfall. Our service at the front, it appeared, would begin at the expiration of these six weeks. As mentioned above, not all of our regiment were stationed at this town, Mandres, for it was too small. Headquarters, A, B, C, and D companies were here. The second and third battalions and supply and machine gun companies were at little towns close by called Ese Leo, Don Marie, and Lenkis. However, practically the same events took place at each little town. At stated times the different companies leaving their stations met on the line of march and when a prearrange point was reached skirmishes and trench maneuvers were executed. The noon meal was served in the field from the rolling kitchens. Drinking water was frowned on while marching and at the conclusion of a march there were generally many thick tongues, parched throats, and black lips. During June, a party of commissioned and non-commissioned officers were sent to the infantry school at Chateau-Lône-sur-Saint, there to further their education and military matters. Generally in the evenings the boys wrote letters and read the Paris edition of the Chicago Tribune and the New York Carol. Also the thirst was quenched, the water was under the ban of the medical officer unless it was purified by the addition of hypochloride of lime. This water was placed in a lister bag hung upon a tripod and was like less than the various vins and brandies offered in the vinshops, especially since most of these little shops were resided over by Mademoiselles. During the day no drinks could be sold to Americans, but after the companies were dismissed until taps the shopkeepers reaped the harvest of frogs. The YMCA, Red Cross, KFC, and Salvation Army apparently did not know of our existence for we saw nothing of them. The nearest YMCA was at Mojean about two and one half miles distance. Our excellent band made the evenings happy for French and Americans with splendid concerts on the square. Many visits were made to the French homes. Ostensibly they were for the purpose of learning the French language and customs, however the home with a feminine teacher was generally the most popular school. Near our abode was the home of a very dear old French couple where we learned that in this locality the chief industry was the manufacturer of knives and scissors. All work was done by hand in the homes. Our host plied his trade in the room which was also kitchen, dining room, and bedroom. The little cook stove, not more than two feet high, looked like a toy while the fuel used was twigs. The average villager was kind to us but the shopkeepers were very grasping. They sold their articles for any sum they thought they could get from the Americans. This profiteering, especially in foodstuffs, was the cause of an order to the Americans forbidding them to buy certain foodstuffs. The profiteers raised prices so high that the natives could not buy these articles. However the order was not always obeyed for the temptation to have a home cooked meal was very great. Now and then enough Franks could be gathered together to have a banquet of chicken, French fried potatoes, eggs, lettuce, homemade bread, butter and vin. The reader has heard of the thrifty French housewife but I hope he will not condemn the boys for passing up the chicken head and feet which were served on the plate. Except on Sundays most of the people wore wooden shoes and they could be heard clattering along on the road a block away. On June 29 we were told that General Pershing was coming to review us. That meant a night of polishing guns, cleaning quarters, grounds and clothes. When he came the next day, Premier Clemenceau accompanied him. General Pershing smiled and spoke to the boys as he passed along the line. He looked like a man capable of doing big things. The next day a rumor went forth that we were scheduled to go to Italy as a propaganda regiment to encourage the Italians. As this rumor gained credence the study of French lost ground and many copies of French for soldiers went to the bottom of the barracks. On the 4th of July we were awakened before Reveley by our band which in two separate sections marched around the town endeavoring to see which section could make more noise. During the day athletic games were staged and prizes were given to the winners. The following week on July 9, LC Janice came to our neighborhood and provided an evening's entertainment we shall never forget. In a natural amphitheater a rude wooden stage with improvised lights was built. The hillside was dotted with the flowers of the American Army, the 331st and overseas caps, the 332nd and campaign caps. Both regimental bands were near the stage and they kept everyone in good spirits. A truck drove up and a piano was unloaded and placed upon the stage. Shortly after, Miss Janice and her mother arrived in the limousine and from the moment the door of the car opened until she left the stage everyone had a wonderful time. Miss Janice sang several songs, new to us, and her parodies and accompanying antics were greatly enjoyed. On July 14, Francis Independence Day, another holiday was declared. We were free to go anywhere possible in the 24 hours. In order to bring the holiday spirit to the whole regimen, the band was sent around to their various towns. In each town a short concert was played and at the 2nd Battalion Headquarters it cooperated in a pleasant program of speeches and songs attended by the French people as well as the soldiers. A few days later the order to move to Italy was officially announced and a transfer of physically imperfect men took place. Some of our men were sent to the 331st while they were to transfer better men to the 332nd. The transfer was affected, but when our doctors examined the new men they found many of them in poorer condition than those we had sent to the 331st. So it was necessary to use some strenuous language and to go through the process of transfer once more. During July the Americans were fighting around Château Thierry and were stopping the German drive that was causing France to despair. Possibly this success assured our trip to Italy for after this time our movement was speeded up. Many things were necessary such as rolling stock, travel rations, equipment, motor trucks, etc. We understood that we were the only American regimen going to Italy and therefore we would have to take care of much that is usually looked after by special units. However on July 25th the first section of the 332nd marched to Folien, boarded the train and was on the way to Italy. End of section 2. Section 3. In Italy with the 332nd Infantry. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. In Italy with the 332nd Infantry by Joseph L. Letow. Chapter 2. France to Italy. Soma Campagna and Verona. There were about 30 motor trucks and two touring cars fastened on flat cars and these trucks filled with canvas tents looked more inviting to us than the notorious boxcars marked 40 ohms et chèvre. This journey which was to occupy three days and two nights was remarkable for its changing scenes and climates. Leaving Folien about 3pm July 25th we proceeded in the southeastern direction reaching grey about twilight. Drawing forth our canned willy, crackers, tomatoes, et cetera we had dinner. Upon completing this luxurious repast we pulled a canvas tarpaulin over us and put our bedroom in shape. The evening air was growing colder as we approached the mountains but we slept comfortably even though we had allowed ourselves the luxury of removing shoes and putties. While we had taken care of ourselves in this manner the boys in the boxcars were anything but comfortable. The French boxcar is not the large one we see on American railroads and it was only by taking turns at lying down that anyone got any sleep. We awoke early and found ourselves in the scenic foothills of the Alps. Little villages snuggled up on the mountain sides, the stone roof sparkling in the sunshine like those of a fairy city. There was as usual the towering church in each village around which the house is clustered like little chicks under the mother hen's wings. Here and there as we journeyed on we saw wonderfully constructed castles set on high peaks commanding the countryside. One glance at their evident strength together with the thought that firearms were unknown in the old days and one ceased to wonder how the barons ruled the country in feudal days. Not only were the castles strongly built they were beautiful as well and the eye loved to dwell on them as long as they were in sight. Many mountains are absolutely barren they seem to be exhausted with the age long battle with the elements. When Napoleon marched through these valleys they were old. When Hannibal led his conquering Carthaginians they were old and the years since have added nothing but more scars and fissures to their sides. A few miles of these barren hills were quite depressing and we were glad when they had been left behind and mountains green from top to bottom took their places. Many of the peaks were snow-capped though the days were quite mild. The next large city we passed through was Aux-le-Bons. We had no time to try the famous waters for the train starter with his little fishhorn soon sent us on our way. Shortly after we passed through Chambord and when we woke on the morning of the twenty-seven we were on the way to Mont-Milion. This town was of a special importance to us because here in the mountains the English had established a washing station. Our train stopped and everyone got off and enjoyed a wash or a shave. Hot coffee was furnished and we had our noonday meal. With our toilet and meal completed we proceeded journey on past St. Julian and St. Michel past the lovely waterfall at La Praz and finally reached Modain the last French town about 9 p.m. We remained here more than an hour. The Red Cross represented us, distributed bars of chocolate and hot coffee with rum, all of which was thankfully received on this cold night. About 10.30 p.m. an electric engine was attached to our train and we whizzed through a very long tunnel. Upon reaching the other end we were in Italy. The inhabitants of the little town at which we stopped were most enthusiastic in their welcome although it was near midnight. A band played the star-spangled banner. Italian troops saluted and the people gave us chocolate, little flags, cigarettes and sandwiches. We wondered that Italy had such an abundance of these articles since France was barren. In Italian general cause much laughter when he approached the boys torch in hand to inspect the Americans. The Italians have a way of waving the hand and greeting that furnished much amusement. The arm is held up, palm of the hand inward and the hand is rapidly open and closed. Shouts of Viva La Medicani accompanied each move at the fingers. The boys were quick to reply and answering shouts of Viva La Talia came from them. Later in the night we entered Turin and here again were delightfully received. We ourselves could not realize what our presence meant to these people. In the early morning we passed beautiful Lake Como and sometime later caught a glimpse of Milan, the outline of her venerable cathedral standing out from the lower buildings of the city. Our train section did not enter Milan but another section stopped there and the boys marched through the city amid great applause. One could not journey across the northern part of Italy from the border of Milan without exclaiming at the fertility of the soil. Every inch of ground is productive and the climate is much warmer than on the other side of the mountains. At noon on the 27th we reached Verona. Again our progress was halted by our enthusiastic allies who showered us with little Italian flags and handkerchiefs while their bands played our national anthem over and over. Of course this was popular with us as it gave us an opportunity of standing at attention and saluting. Once more we started and our next and final stop was Villa Franca. Here amid great enthusiasm we detrained. The American Red Cross surprised us with hot coffee and donuts and never was a lunch more appreciated. While we ate American aviators flew above us doing amazing stunts. We eventually collected all of the headquarters property, put it on a truck and set out for Soma Campania later called Summer Complaint. In less than half an hour we came into this little town which was to be the home of regimental headquarters, headquarters company and the first battalion. The second battalion and field hospital number 331 were located at Histora Custoso. The third battalion remained at Villa Franca with the supply company. The 331st field hospital had been attached to the regiment when we left France. The machine gun company was alone at Villa Contini. Our driver took us through the walled cities of the town and set us down before the doors of the Villa of 1001 Roses. Not knowing where our quarters were to be we made our bunks on the floor. Right there we became acquainted with the Italian mosquito and of all the mosquitoes we had met he is the most voracious and insistent. Cusses and slaps were heard throughout the night. At every move at the regiment new orders governing the actions of the troops are issued. So for a long time we were quite busy getting these out. Not too busy however to explore our Villa. It was the property of an Italian Countess, widow of an Italian general. The building of White Stone had a balcony in front from which the Countess often looked down at the curious Americanos. At the south end there was a large room, very likely a conservatory. The walls of which were covered with what were at one time beautiful paintings. This was the office of the sergeant's major. At the other end of the building the Colonel and Adjutant had their desks. In front of the building the road divided forming a round plot of grass on which were shrubbery, flowers and palm trees. To the left was a thicket of bamboo trees. To the right were majestic palms. Immediately before our entrance was a grape arbor which in the hot weather was very enticing. The rear however was most attractive. Passing across the court shut in on three sides by the villa, the garage and the servants quarters. One came to a grove of cool hanging trees. Winding paths bordered by the hedgerows led through this grove to the edge of a steep hill. Here a small balcony of stone had been built and one could see directly below the White Road, 20th Serpentine course, among green trees, past little red-ruthed village houses, presided over by the eternal company of the village church. While we sweltered in the sun amid these tropical surroundings, the mountaintops visible across the valley were snow-capped. Soma Campania is quite small. When one walked through the streets there was a feeling as being walled in. The church, the unicephial, the vino shops and the houses were made of stone and walls of masonry extended around the boundaries of each person's property. Five minutes walk took one into the country and the country met the open fields. For in Italy the farmers live in the towns and go out to work their farms. Possibly we had come to Italy to cement national relations, to put out any lingering fire of love the northern Italians had for the Germans, to show Italy that America was at her side. Nevertheless, as in France, when assembly sounded in the early morning, dough-boys, gun in hand, poured from barns, cellars and houses for the daily work. On the hottest days drills were ordered and borne. But when evening came the tension was relaxing until 10.30 the boys had good times. In this section of Italy there are many irrigation ditches fed by mountain streams so that the farms are very productive. These streams and ditches were very popular swimming places after hot days drill and along the banks could be seen many future husbands drilling themselves in the art of laundering. Then there were the new vinos, wines and cognacs of Italy to be tried and many pleasant evenings were spent in dingy little shops we would not think of entering at home. Others, musically inclined, struck up in acquaintance with the owner of a piano and thus amused themselves with the good old American tunes. The Italians generally liked American rag time. We were made welcome everywhere and in turn thought highly of our hosts. Some of us were fortunate enough to secure rooms with beds and we felt as if we were going to like the war in Italy. Owing to mosquitoes we found use for the mosquito nets issued by the quarter master for we persisted in sleeping with the windows open despite our landlady who insisted on closing them. The natives closed the windows at night and sprinkled water upon the floor. The kitchen of this house contained a stone fireplace with a large copper pot hung on a tripod. In this vessel almost everything was cooked over a fire made of twigs. Near the fireplace hung a pair of copper pails in which the women carried drinking water. These pails were fastened in the ends of a wooden device which fits over the shoulders and it was a common sight to see the women carrying them up the street while their wooden shoes clattered on the pavement. In Italy there is a great devotion to the Madonna as is evident from the many shrines along the roads. An incident in this connection is worth recording illustrating how this faith and devotion is inculcated in the children from birth. The baby of the house stumbled, fell upon the floor and cried. Her elder sister about fourteen quickly picked up a statue of the Madonna and held it toward the infant. The ladders face lighted as she grasped the statue and the cries abruptly ceased as she pressed the statue to her lips. While at Suma Campania two important personages visited us. One the King of Italy who reviewed the regiment August 1st and complimented it highly on its marching and bearing. The other the Prince of Wales who lunched with a colonel. At this town we became acquainted with the Italian oxen and dockies. It was an extraordinary sight to see a team consisting of an ox and a very small donkey drawing a cart. Our meals here were very poor, at least in our company. This question is largely up to the mass sergeant and cooks but often if the officers gave more attention to the meals they would be better. It was said our beef was killed one day and served the next so that it was too fresh to eat and accordingly many claimed it caused illness. The handshaking policy seemed to have taken possession of everyone upon entering Italy and in line with this one half of the regiment was given passes and truck rides to Verona every Sunday. Verona is about an hour's ride from Suma Campania. One has many thoughts on entering a famous old Italian city. Here is Verona, old before the discovery of America within whose walls great Dante lived and saw his Beatrice which event gave to the world one of its sublimest poems, the Divine Comedy. Here is the tomb of Romeo and Juliet who had been made immortal by Shakespeare. Here is the old arena built under the Euclidian in 290 AD. Here is the tomb of the Scaglieri. Here is the church of St. Anastasia built in 1261. How we wandered through this ancient city of mid-strange yet somehow familiar scenes. How we wished we had studied our history and literature more diligently when in school. How we longed to speak the Italian language so that we might ask about this palace, that statue, this old church, that curious inscription. There is much to see and to learn in all Verona. As many treasures of the past so fondly preserved have not materially stopped the progress of this age for the stores of its narrow business street, Broadway, we called it, through which no horse or automobile passes showed all the modern appliances to be found in the stores of the original Broadway. We were delightfully surprised. While we were in Verona, a moving picture, blatantly built as the mysteries of New York, was being shown. We were not interested, but we did live through one act of an insipid love play in another theater. The Italian idea of love as depicted on the screen is too soft for the rough and ready American. And Italian movies were never popular with the boys. Our band sometimes came to Verona to play. The first stand was in a small park within a stone's throw of the arena. Across the street were several restaurants. To one of these we found our way and without trouble fell into the delightful Italian habit of taking refreshments seated at a table placed out upon the spacious sidewalk. We discovered near ice cream and were quite happy. Incidentally, we learned that the signorinas of Italy are very lovely and that they are not amateurs in dressing attractively. Those of the better class are always chaperoned in the evening. There were many such in company of father or father and mother and their deportment and beauty caused hearts to beat while thoughts of her and far off America rushed to mind. During a field meet, held at Verona, an American broke the world's record throwing the hand grenade. Thus in work and play the days passed. We loved Italy at this time. It had been impressed upon us that we had been chosen from the entire AEF to represent American soldiery and that upon our actions Americans would be judged. The boys strove hard to maintain the standard. About the middle of August, our colonel began to think that fates and reviews better fitted a conquering army than a regiment so lately civilians. He felt that time life with the regiment in four different villages was not good for discipline. And to the utter astonishment and objection of the Italians, civilian and military, we moved on the 14th of August to a field near Vallejo. End of section three. Section four of In Italy with the 332nd Infantry. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Chapter three. Intense near Vallejo, Treviso, Villa Angelica. For the first time since we were at Avra, the regiment was united. There were acres of tents in orderly rows forming company streets. A highway ran through the center of the camp separating regimental headquarters and the auxiliary companies from the latter companies. Instead of the conservatory of Avila, we now had a tent for an office. Instead of a soft bed and a roof over us at night, we had a tent and the earth. Most of us enjoyed this open air life more than the town life. The ground occupied by the regiment was a mulberry grove. The peculiar looking, stunted mulberry trees were grown for the leaves upon which the silkworms feed. Silk was manufactured in Villa Franca and the neighboring towns. Vallejo was very hot and on some days the heat of the sun readily penetrated the canvas and seemed to be trying to dry the blood in our bodies. Yet through it all the boys drilled. How they stood it, God only knows. Of course they were frequent rests, but only American grit carried them through. War is what Sherman said it is, but the general thought was that it was not worse than drilling it Italy during August. While the days were hot, the evenings were very pleasant and the nights were cool so that one recuperated from the heat and labor of the day. It may be interesting to know what a day meant to this so-called propaganda regiment. The following is a copy of a drill schedule and operation at this time. Monday a.m. 7 to 7.30. Physical exercise, running, jumping obstacles so as to develop agility and endurance of soldiers. 7.30 to 8 o'clock. Instruction and use of gas mask. 8 to 8.15. Rest. 8.15 to 9 o'clock. Company combat drill. Including debouching from departure trenches. Attacks against points of resistance. 9 to 10 o'clock. Bolt manipulation with magazine floor plate, magazine spring and follower removed. 10 to 10.15. Rest. 10.15 to 10.45. Platoon close order drill and manual of arms. PM. 2.50 to 3.30. Position and aiming exercises. 3.30 to 5.30. Developing company strong points. Tuesday. Schedule the same as for Monday except 8.15 to 9 o'clock a.m. Period devoted to giving platoons an opportunity to go over carefully their particular phase of the company combat drill of the previous day using gas mask. 7.30 to 8 o'clock a.m. Bayonet instruction. Wednesday. Same as Monday except the period 8.15 to 9 o'clock during which time instructions will be given company specialists. Thursday. Same as Wednesday except 7.30 to 8 o'clock bayonet instruction. Friday. Practice March under assumed tactical situations. Saturday. Trenches. Looks like a real day's work in any climate. Later much of this drill was changed to sham battle and trenches in conjunction with Italy's justly famous Ardite under Major Allegreti. Each battalion took its turn and occupied prepared trenches which they undertook to hold against Italians. Bullets bombs and signals were used and an amateur would have thought a real battle was in progress. Near these trenches were vineyards and thereby hangs a tale which however must not be told now. A rifle range was also constructed and those men who had never fired a rifle were given instruction. The one pound and trench mortar batteries also had a range and our neighborhood took on more of a war like appearance than the Italian Austrian front. Our machine gun men were not idle either for they were sent to an Italian machine gun school in the mountains where they were drilled and perfected in such trifles as hitting targets on the opposite side of the mountain. They learned to shoot the fiat Italian guns as well as their own. However, though we worked hard through September and into October, life was not all work. In the camp itself we finally had a Red Cross and a YMCA hunt which were well patronized. It was a common sight to see two hundred or more boys in the canteen line waiting to buy cigarettes, chocolate bars, and lemonade. Near the camp was an irrigation ditch about five to seven feet wide and about four feet deep. About a mile away was the Minceal River, a real mountain stream. We bathed in both places but one day the powers that were decreed that the enlisted men should swim in the ditch for officers only were allowed in the river. It is superfluous to reproduce the common but let the reader think of nearly four thousand men in a ditch in which clothes also were washed while for less than two hundred officers there was a large river. One could also go to the little town of Allegio. It had nothing to offer except the usual little wine shops and grocery stores where we showed a decided fondness for the Swiss chocolate and almonds. Occasionally someone would go out into the country and bring back enough eggs, tomatoes, potatoes, etc. so that a few of the boys could enjoy a real meal in a Signora's kitchen. We had been at the camp for several days when we were surprised by the arrival of the officers and non-commissioned officers we had left at the Infantry School in France. A few were missing. They had been given duties in France. While at the Tented Camp the system inaugurated at Soma Campania of using the trucks on Sundays to show Italy to the Regiment and the Regiment to Italy was continued. In our first trip on August 18 was to Pesciera situated on Lake Garda, beautiful crystal blue lake Garda. Like many Italian towns, Pesciera boasts a splendid old wall, relic of the days of battle. The town itself held us just during the time required to eat a lunch, for there was a boat making a trip around Lake Garda sometime after lunch and we could not miss that trip. The lake extends up into Austria, that country controlling the northern end, while Italy controls the southern. It is fed by streams from the melted snow of the mountains, the basis of which meet the water. The shores are very rocky and when the boat docked at the little landings the dancing waves could be seen lapping over the doorsteps of the stone houses built on the very edge of the land. The villages are beautiful and quaint beyond comparison. The picturesque dress of the people, the ornamented though four stone houses, the little donkeys, the blue crystal clear water, all about with the mountain peaks above hidden by clouds, made an unforgettable picture. Most of these simple villagers had never seen an American soldier and when we approached the town at least half the population turned out to stare at us and wave a greeting in their peculiar backhand at way. On the hillsides facing the lake many pretty homes have been built, always of stone, while vines and shrubbery are so well trained and trimmed that these dwellings look like fairy palaces. On the 24th of August the big minstrel show, which the talent of the regiment had been rehearsing for some time, took place. Neighboring British and Italian officers were to be guessed of our officers this evening, while two nights later the enlisted men were to entertain the men of the British and Italian armies. A stage was erected with one side of the YMCA as its back and the orchestra was gaily decorated with lanterns and flags. The performance was a regulation American minstrel show and was a great credit to the boys who took part in it. Besides the minstrel show proper there were sketches by two clever cartoonists, several vocal solos, a violin solo and dances. This may sound ordinary but considering the time, the circumstances in the place will be seen how extraordinary it was. The performance was repeated for enlisted men two nights later and once more proved a success. These good times however were not to last for on the 11th of September we said goodbye to our second battalion, which had been selected to hold a sector of the Italian line on the Piave River. With moist eyes we watched them march away. How many of them our comrades of a year would return. But they, led by the band, stepped away lightly with shining faces. I know that even mortal battle was more welcome to them than that sole deadening drill in the hot sun. Hourly we awaited news from them, but beyond a few meager reports that they were successfully occupying the trenches we heard little. From what I have been able to learn however they went into their sector and held it. With characteristic American love of action their quiet sector was hardly bearable. For Americans to stand silently in the trenches and watch enemy shells and aeroplanes pass overhead without replying was unheard of. However to take a shot as many wished would have called down upon them the merciless rebuke of the Italian general under whose orders they were. No unauthorized shooting was allowed, so our gallant second chafed and obeyed orders as good soldiers do. On Friday September 13th the remainder of the regiment was engaged in a sham battle. They were advancing under a barrage laid down by our machine guns, one-pounders and trench mortars. All the gunners were working fast in an earnest endeavor to make a good showing. A group of officers was standing behind the trench mortars watching the mimic battle when without warning there was a terrible explosion. One of the trench mortar shells it was thought exploded prematurely, scattering death and injury for many yards. When the final count was taken it was found that one lieutenant and four men were killed and about 47 officers and men were wounded. Among the officers wounded so badly that they never again joined the regiment were the lieutenant colonel, one major and the supply officer. On September 14th there was a great military funeral when the dead were lovingly relayed to rest in the Italian cemetery at Villa Franca. On September 18th B Company and the band went to Rome to participate in the annual September 20th celebration. With them were several of our best athletes. When the Americans arrived in Rome the Italians wondered why they had come. However seeing that they were there they offered an Italian barracks to them. Besides this incident the most noteworthy event was the disappointment of being in Rome with no money. For many of the boys were robbed in the barracks of the few lyres they had. About this time September 25th the fighting in the vicinity of St. Miele, St. Quinten and Dix Mound was fiercely progressing and the Allies were smashing great holes in the Hindenburg line. By the light of a candle the regimental interpreter read the news from the daily Italian papers and as he called the names of the towns mentioned we drew red ink lines on our map of France. These were thrilling days. These glowing reports from the western front and the everlasting drilling combined to make life extremely disgusting to the boys. Many feared that the war would be over before the 332nd ever saw the front and none of us could understand why the Italian front was so quiet while at every other point where there were Allies there was a hail of shot and shell. The Camp Bulletin was written by one of the chaplains and it proved very popular until it was forced to suspend publication after the 6th issue owing to the lack of duplicating paper for the Mimeograph machine. At this time a postcard craze sees nearly everyone. The postcard industry in Italy is surpassed only by the Vino and Macaroni industries. On September 30th Bulgaria capitulated after a series of severe battles with the Serbians, Greeks and French. During this time you will remember the 2nd Battalion was in the trenches and it was generally thought that the 1st or 3rd battalion would go up to relieve them in a few weeks. The Colonel's idea in occupying these trenches was to reserve a place for the Americans when the day of battle came. However before this plan could be carried out the Tensa Vallejo were struck and the regiment was moved to Treviso by train and the 2nd battalion was ordered from the trenches so as to join the regiment at Treviso. Regimental headquarters remained till the last. Everyone except about 20 of us had gone. We were to follow in trucks with the records, boxes, etc. It was sad and lonesome to look at the former sight of a living bustling camp now deserted and dead. Only a few fires burning rubbish remained to mark the place. With the coming of daylight we loaded the trucks and set out for Treviso. The trip occupied the entire day but it was pleasant in every respect. I'm passing through a village one could always get hot coffee, chocolate and fresh bread which helped our canned meals considerably. It was evening when we reached our troops billeted in an Italian barracks on the outskirts of Treviso having no definite orders to proceed we remained for the night. In the morning we received orders to go to a villa outside of Treviso which we did. The name was Villa Angelica. The estate was a large one with the usual tropical trees and luxuriant vegetation even in October. Our sleeping quarters were in one of the wings of the U shaped building. The walls and floors were of stone or cement and with no fire they were not very comfortable with only a straw tick and a blanket separating one from the floor. Our office was a chapel and part of the floor consisted of six marble slabs marking the last resting place of former members of the family. Being now quite near the front we could see at least five Italian observation balloons. Dozens of aeroplanes passed overhead daily and parts of many battles were seen as the aviators pursued one another across the sky. While here we saw an Austrian plane suddenly dart out from behind a cloud and blow up an observation balloon before the observer could descend. At night all lights were forbidden and the rumbling of the guns told us to heed the warning. However it seems that Americans are ever ready to take a chance and with window blind securely fastened many a grand poker game was played by the candlelight. This was our only recreation. Outside the nights were black and one took his life in his hands to go walking. We thought a great drive was eminent. For every night the roads leading to the front were alive with moving vehicles. It seemed as though the steady flow of slow moving guns would never stop. And we marveled at the dexterity of the unlighted flying camions as they raced to the front with loads of supplies and raced to the rear for more. Our companies were on the outskirts of Treviso and two Italian barracks. Their daily tests were drills and hikes. On October 14 Samuel Gompers paid us a visit. The band played in his honor and his face brightened to hear the familiar ragtime. He gave a short address on the value of teamwork. Two days later we were ordered to Treviso. We had expected to go forward. However despite our grumblings at the many moves we were glad to bid farewell to Villa Angelica and its darkness. End of Section 4. Section 5 of In Italy with the 332nd Infantry. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. In Italy with the 332nd Infantry by Joseph L. Letow. Section 5. Chapter 4. Treviso Before the Drive. Treviso is situated about 18 miles northwest of Venice. Before the war its population was about 17,000. But when we came to Treviso it looked like a city of the dead. Nearly all the buildings were locked and the windows were boarded up. While many houses were in ruins from airplane raids. Most of the people had fled. A walk around the town revealed an entirely different style of architecture than we had ever seen. This difference consists in the second floor of the buildings arching over the sidewalks as far as the curb. This supports being columns flush with the curbing. The arrangement was beneficial during the long rainy season. Many canals of a questionable degree of sanitation dissect the town. It was a constant wonder to us that disease did not result from them. It is certain that many mosquitoes were bred there. The women washed clothes on the banks of the streams. A city wall of ancient date as could be seen from the Venetian lion shown there on completely encircled the town. This lion, found on many walls and monuments in the vicinity, marked the time when Venice ruled Treviso and adjacent territory from the 14th to the 17th centuries. There were few buildings of note. The Cathedral of San Pietro with Titian's Annunciation and the Muni's Sipio were most important. Besides these, there were the usual shops selling military goods, mostly of American origin, perfumes, postcards, and vino. At night Treviso was not inviting. Having been severely bombed by Austrian aviators, no outside lights were tolerated and those burning indoors had to be well screened. The only places where one could find amusement were in the little wine rooms. The typical approach to one was through a dark narrow street. Tiny gleam of white cast a streak across the alley. One drew near, loud laughter, and talk was heard. It is bottled sunshine present in the red and white wines, the cognacs, vermouths, and grappa. The headquarters of the regiment and our billets were in a three-story college building which, with its many small rooms, made the most ideal place we had had thus far. The offices were well furnished with good tables, desks, chairs, and electric lights. There was also a piano, which, with the stringed instruments played by members of the band, made a jazz band that commanded attention. The companies were still housed in the two barracks. Straw was provided for the bed sacks which were placed on the floor. Stone floors may wear better than wooden floors, but they are not nearly so efficient as beds. The next time there is a war, let's hope it is in a country where wooden floors are in style. The rolling kitchens were set up in the yard below where the meals were served. The meals generally consisted of beef, brown beans, macaroni, rice, coffee, warbread, and macaroni, rice, warbread, beef, brown beans, and coffee. On the 13th of October, the Second Battalion came out of the trenches and about two days later joined us at Treviso. Though not one had been injured or killed, they were proclaimed heroes and were the envy of the regiment. The work of the day consisted of long, vigorous hikes with full, mobile equipment worn. To add to the work, the weather was rainy and cold. It was at this time that the changing of clothes was adopted in order to create a false impression as to the number of Americans in Italy. Upon going out in the morning, overcoats and helmets were worn, and upon returning in the afternoon by a different route, the overcoats and helmets were out of sight, and raincoats and caps were worn. The next day, perhaps, the change would be to leather jerkins. The object was attained for later the Austrian prisoners reported that they had been under the impression that there were several divisions of Americans in Italy. In Treviso, we were fortunate enough to be able to obtain hot baths and real tubs. Two hospitals, one of which had been bombed, containing seven and five tubs, respectively, became the busiest places in town. The price of two and one-half lyres per bath was charged. Sharing Treviso with us were several thousand Italian soldiers and a few thousand English and Scotch troops. These British troops were a happy crowd. Four years of war had made happy-go-lucky lads out of the most serious. We attended their picture shows, played football with them, and clinked cups with them in perfect harmony. About this time, Ostend and Lille were falling, and the whole Hindenburg line was crumbling. Talk of an early peace, Filbiere. This was welcome news, for our thoughts were always of home. Nevertheless, we wanted to return only after decisive victory for the Allies. On the other hand, the news from home at this time was startling in its account of the ravages of a strange disease, influenza, which was decimating our camps and was spreading to the civilians. Till this time, we had no trouble with the flu. About October 29th, the moon came out in all its silvery splendor. It was so noticeable because it was practically the only light we had outdoors. The evenings were mild and inviting, and as we walked under the arched houses and over the many little stone bridges, we talked to the possibility of an air raid. For moonlight nights are the delight of aviators. On the night of October 22nd, I retired early. My sleep was unbroken until about 11 p.m. when I was awakened by an awful concussion which seemed just a block away. It appeared to my startled senses that a part of the earth had in some way torn loose from the main body and was hurtling through the sky. I do not remember of sitting up in bed, but I suppose I did. The first object to meet my startled gaze was my roommate running toward the window. Exclaiming, what's that? I bound it from the bed and, gaining the window, peered anxiously at the heavens for, in a flash, I realized it was an air raid. Despite the din and roar of the guns far and near, we could hear the hum of the motors, but could see no planes. A machine gun across the street in a building with its rapid tat-tat-tat, sounded ridiculously like a woodpecker drumming on a tree, and in spite of the danger caused much amusement. A block or so away, a big gun boomed every few minutes while, four miles around, guns of all sizes spoke. The sky was dotted with the beams of powerful searchlights which tried to locate the invaders. While the moon was bright, there were many small black clouds swiftly moving across the sky. It was an ideal night for a raid. We listened to the guns and watched the flares and then wondered at the silence in the building. Upon investigation, we found all of the boys in the yard, below, looking up at the sky. We joined them. The great lights still searched the heavens, the beams reminding one of a boy's mirror shining on the ceiling of a room. Far up, black little puffs of smoke from the shells of the anti-aircraft guns floated around, and sometimes we mistook them for airplanes. Again, far above, a small flame would burst forth and drop, and all would be dark again. It was not long, however, before we saw the folly of Stanley in the open, for a shrapnel from our guns rained upon the ground near us, sounding like horseshoes as they struck the pavement. As soon as the rain was over, the boys ran out to collect souvenirs, these consisting of rusty jagged pieces of iron, some eight inches long. Without seeing the airplanes, we retired to the straw ticks, somewhat disappointed. Nevertheless, before we could get to sleep, the big gun up the road spoke again, and the chorus of smaller ones followed. Again, we rushed from the room to follow the lights, the flares and the smoke clouds. This time, our curiosity was rewarded with a sight of a plane, and the searchlights were, the whole body of the plane looked as if it had been dipped in phosphorus. It gleaned. I have no idea how fast that little body moved across the sky. Shells were bursting all around it, and we expected every moment to see it fall, a mass of flames. But it proved too fast for the gunners, as it at length scurried behind a cloud out of the grasp of the searchlight. She'll never forget that plane, herring like a living thing to its haven behind the cloud. This thrilling scene enacted, we once more returned to resume our sleep. However, we were again roused when the raiders returned, this time the attack was short. To our surprise, we learned in the morning that no great damage was done, and we heard with joy that not an American in any of the three outlying barracks was hurt. These boys were not allowed out of the barracks, and as one had put it, I lay flat on the floor, so tight against the wall that I thought I'd pushed the wall out. We thought at that time that the planes were out to bomb roads and supplies, but we were told later that they came over to get the English and Americans. In fact, an Austrian aviator who had been in the raid was indiscreet enough to boast about it in Fiumi to some of the third battalion men when they were in Fiumi. When it came to, he thought he had collided with the moon. With the Allies smashing on, on every front, the long quiet Italian front suddenly burst into flame on the morning of October 24th, when the 4th Italian army began its attack in the Mount Grappa region. The Italian commando Supremo, at last, had an opportunity of using its cherished plan, which was to separate the Austrians in the Trentino from those in the Piave section by breaking through at Vittorio and by an enveloping movement to bring about the fall of the whole mountain front, which would in turn make imperative an Austrian retreat from the plane. During October, every available man and gun had been brought to the front and between the Brenta River and the sea, five armies were concentrated. All movements were to be completed by October 10th, but the rain raised the Piavia River, which was the dividing line of the two combatants so that nothing could be done until the 24th. Opposed to the 63 and one half Austrian divisions made up of 1,070,000 men and 7,000 guns were 57 Allied divisions or 912,000 men and 8,929 guns. Of these 57 divisions, 51 were Italian, three were British, two were French, and one was Czechoslovak. In addition, there was the young and ardent 332nd American Regiment, which was attached to the 10th Army, one of the four armies selected to break through the line before Vittorio. The task allotted to the 10th Army was to force its way across the Piave at the island Gravedi Papadopoli. A desperate battle raged across the entire front, but the 10th could not cross the Piave, owing to another rise in the river until three bridges were thrown across on the 26th. The 10th crossed broke down the enemy resistance and went on to Simadono taking during the day over 5,600 prisoners and 24 guns. Somehow the 332nd was held in reserve and did not participate in this great battle of Vittorio Veneto until several days after it had started. We were still in Treviso the night of the 26th and when, now and then, an occasional Austrian shell whistled over the town, we began to think that there was a war in Italy. Some of the boys were in favor of retiring to the specially built dugouts under the city wall. I joined a party of Italian and Italian American soldiers, among them an American interpreter. We descended into one of these holes. My surprise was great when, upon reaching the bottom of the steps, I found all sizes, ages, and sexes of civilians and several soldiers, some standing, some sitting, and some lying in cots. I had not known that there were so many civilians in Treviso. We stood around for a few minutes, but the atmosphere was such that we decided we would rather risk a big bertha than breathe that air. In our party were several Italian telegraphers who maintained a station in a heavily sandbag building in the center of town. I was invited to accompany them and I enjoyed several hours of unique entertainment. It was midnight when we arrived at the station. One of the telegraphers went out to procure wine while another reconnoitered the kitchen. The result of their laborers was wine, warbread, and onions. Thus we feasted. At 2.30, with the repast over and the guns somewhat quieted, we heated our drooping eyelids and returned to our quarters. The next morning we received the glorious news that the Scotch in English had crossed the supposedly impassable Piave River and had advanced four miles beyond it. Several batches of prisoners came in. They were a ragged wretched looking lot. They did not look like the fierce huns we had heard about. From pale, emaciated faces their eyes looked out like those of dumb animals. An American near me muttered, there is a grand indictment of war. The allies were pleasantly engaged in going through the pockets of the prisoners in search of souvenirs. If something of value was found, the cigarette or piece of bread was given the hapless prisoner. Sometimes. Much money of a kind new to the world was found on the Austrians. The Austrians had been so sure of ultimate success that they had printed Italian money, had paid their soldiers with it, and had forced the people whose towns they occupied to accept it. The side of the prisoners sent exciting thoughts through our minds for with the battle raging within earshot we asked each other when will our turn come? Were we to continue our propaganda mission or were we reserves? Sometime before we had been placed under the command of an Italian general and had been assigned to his division. Did this mean that we moved toward the battle line? Possibly the commanding officer knew, but the boys were bewildered. Everything seemed set for an early departure. Barracks, bags, and surplus supplies had been stowed away and men were detailed to remain as guards. The mail service ceased, and when the boys started on the march in the morning, no one knew if they were on a practice march or if they were advancing to battle. As usual, rumors were rampant and the news reached us at headquarters more than once that our companies had started for the front. On the night of October 28th, about 9 p.m., when I returned from a visit, I found headquarters in an uproar. In breathless tones someone informed me that I'd better hurry and get ready for we were leaving before midnight. Word had been received a few minutes before from the Italian commander. I bounded up the stairs and into my room. Most of my effects had been stowed away, but I had not anticipated such short notice. However, my saddlebags were soon stuffed full, my roll was made, and when the horses appeared, I was ready. The colonel and commission staff had gone on ahead, and we were to join them later. I do not know who received this information, but at any rate, when we were ready to go, no one knew where we were to meet the colonel. Thus, we're in the enviable position of being AWOL, lost, and our regiment was marching to battle. We spurred our horses and raced around the town's quiet dark streets when finally someone, bless him, noticed several burning cigarette stubs, and we shouted for joy. No one in Italy but Americans had cigarettes in abundance, so urging our heavily laden horses forward, we followed this distinctly American trail and at the city gate met the last company swinging past. A long procession of rolling kitchens and carts followed, ending with the jolly veterinarian who fell in behind him and began the march, destined to end in Austria. End of Section 5. Section 6 of In Italy with the 332nd Infantry. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. In Italy with the 332nd Infantry by Joseph L. Letow. Chapter 5. The Drive. We had not gone far when we were made aware of the overwhelming volume of traffic on this highway. Troops and trucks were hurrying to the front. Empty trucks were returning, and this road was not built for two trucks and a column of soldiers abreast. It was a most irritating advance. Every few minutes came the command to halt and fall out to the right of the road. Then when the road was clear, we clambered back and proceeded. The night was damp and the cold readily penetrated our clothes, chilling us to the bone while the frequent stops made it difficult to get warmed up. At 2.30 a.m., the column halted and moved over to the side of the road. When more than an hour passed and we still remained there in the cold, we wondered what was going on at the head of the column. Toward morning there was a stir around the rolling kitchens a few yards from us, and upon investigation we found that breakfast was being prepared. We found the welcome fire. The hot coffee and rice restored our good spirits and warmed us. About 6.00 a.m., an orderly found the detachment and gave us the order to report at the head of the column. Upon arriving there, we saw the first company in Barago being assigned a place to pitch pup tents. The town seemed like the gate to the frontier. Fortunately there was a stone floor and four walls left for us. The weather near the freezing point, the floor did not appeal to me as it bed, and I searched for boards to lie upon. Being unable to obtain any, I found it necessary to remove a superfluous door. A little later, when I passed this doorway, I noticed that the twin to my door was also missing. There was nothing for the regiment to do but await the thinning out of traffic. Meanwhile our trucks came up with fresh provisions. At 7.30 on the morning of the 31st of October, we marched out of Barago. The road was still congested, the principal reason being that the bridges over the piave had been blown up and light pontoons were being used in their stead. The same start and stop progress took place and it was not until about 2.00 p.m. that we reached the piave. The river is very wide here. There being three kilometers between the two shores. The streams of the river were very swift and the island was gravelly, making progress slow and painful to the burdened men and animals. On the silent of Gravedi Papadoli, we found our first signs of the recent struggle. Several dead, bloated horses and mules halfway in the water met our eyes. Nearby were corpses lying as they had fallen, two or three days before. Helmets, gas masks, rifles and shells were strewn promiscuously about near the road. The island is a forlorn place at best, but now battle-scarred and with dead men, dead horses and implements of warfare lying about. It was one's idea of supreme desolation. Here and there were great yellow splotches showing where the gas shells had fallen. At length, the last stream was crossed and we left the piave behind us and passed through the ruins of Sima Dolmo. On both sides of the road, the small streams of more or less movement seemed to have collected all of the dead men, dead animals and rifles. The horses we saw had great holes in their flanks. Starving people under the thumb of a rapacious conqueror are not too particular when food is concerned. Riding along in silence, looking at the poor dead human beings, we wondered if a grey-haired mother or flaxen-haired wife would not wait in vain for their return. I think many of us pray that we would be spared their fate. It seemed terrible to allow these bodies to live for days like those of animals exposed to weather and prowling beasts. Later we saw graves, large plots where the earth was still soft and too rude wouldn't cross as mark in them. We saw one man lying head foremost in the stream alongside the road. It was difficult to believe that a few days before he had been living flesh and blood with beating heart, with emotions and hopes such as we all have. The fields were pitted with great holes where the shells had struck and the few houses we saw were in ruins. No, this day's travel was not cheerful. Over night at last cast its merciful mantle over the poor bits of clay in the ruined towns and when eight o'clock had come we had reached our objective, Pazola. The companies pitched tents alongside the road, gathering corn stalks which were placed in the tents to lie upon as the ground was cold and damp. The detachment found its way into a poor farmhouse. One could step from the home into the barn with the same roof. These people were very thankful at their deliverance from the long Austrian occupation. Our interpreters told us that the Huns had been living upon locusts, boiled grass and domestic animals for some time. The people said that they had been cruelly treated and many of the women had been mistreated. Some of the boys slept in the stalls, some in the mangers, the crowd into the kitchen did so because there was a welcome fire in the fireplace. The march was resumed in the morning. A few corpses and dead animals were still in evidence and there was an unbelievable quantity of ammunition and many rifles lying about. Everything pointed to a hasty retreat. The body of Italian cavalry passed us during the day and we in turn passed some Tommies belonging to an English supply train. They shouted after us, better get aeroplanes Sammy if you want to catch them. About this time there was some concern about rations. The regiment was able to cross the Monte Cano river but the pontoons were too light for our heavy trucks and they were forced to make a detour. Each man had two days iron rations on his person. These rations consisted of two small cans of beef and from six to eight hard biscuits. Our evening meal on this day was half a can of beef, biscuit and coffee. We reached Guargerin by the evening of November 1st about 30 miles from Treviso as we marched. The troops fell out on the sides of the road and pitched tents in the fields. During the night as we learned later, our trucks with food came up on this road and passed through the sleeping regiment without either party recognizing the other. At 2 a.m. November 2nd we were ordered on the march. The horses were left behind and were to come up later. We did not see the reason for starting at this time in the morning until an hour later when we reached a burnt down bridge at the Levenza river. Here we were forced to wait an hour until the bridge was repaired. We crossed and pushed on in the unknown darkness. At this time we were the advance guard of the 31st Italian Division of the 10th Italian Army, commanded by the British general Earl Kyvin. Our own advance guard was a skirmish line consisting of a dozen platoons which scoured the country ahead of us. We breakfasted in Marone. At 9 a.m. we continued our march. During the day we crossed the Meduno river and in the afternoon camp near Simpelo. At the last crossing the machine guns were dismantled and carried across while the mules swam. For the last few hours we were on the heels of the rapidly departing enemy. He showed himself skillful in retreat. At times we were told he had passed just five hours before us and we strove to catch up with him. On this day Rome reported that the Austrians were fleeing from Judin, 50 miles east of the Piavi river, and that 80,000 prisoners and 1,600 guns had been captured by the Allies. On the eastern or low land section, our front, the Austrians were in full retreat. In the mountains the battle was undecided. The position of the Americans, as mentioned above, was that of advance guard of the 10th Army. We also occupied the center, the Italians being on our right and the British on our left. However, at that time we saw or heard nothing from our allies. In the morning of November 3rd we again took up the pursuit. After marching about 12 miles we reached San Lorenzo about 2.30 p.m. and called it a day. Our kitchens had failed to cross at one of the rivers and had not yet caught up so there were no hot meals. Besides, we had been using our emergency rations and with our supplies somewhere in Italy we were in danger of hunger. Fortunately the Austrians had not gathered up all of the corn and we were able to buy a sort of corn meal from the natives called polenti. The people had also dug up some wine that had been hidden from enemy eyes for many months. After tasting it we were sorry the Austrians had not discovered it. During the evening of the 3rd three of us seceded in annexing a corn husk bed and therefore enjoyed a real sleep. In the morning we received a bowl of hot half and half and thought it the best breakfast we had ever had. The people were very kind to us but it was noticeable that they were actuated greatly by fear. The long Austrian occupation had left it effects upon them and they could not understand when we offered to pay for our accommodations. When we stopped at San Lorenzo on the previous day the 2nd and 3rd battalions with attached platoons had pressed forward until they reached the Tagliamento river at a point called Ponte della Delicia about four miles from San Lorenzo. The bridge there had been blown up by the enemy and was still burning. The Austrians held the opposite shore having entrenched themselves behind the high dykes which also afforded drawing positions for machine guns. Notwithstanding this they allowed the Americans to advance to the river. During the evening an English speaking Austrian called to the Americans asking for a parley. One of the officers was sent to him. The Austrian informed him that at 3 p.m. an armistice between Italy and Austria became effective and therefore they could see no reason for further bloodshed. This was not news to the American commanders. The officer returned safely to the American lines and reported. However, notwithstanding the folly of further hostile demonstration the preparations to attack were continued. What if the careers of a few hundred Americans in the bloom of youth were suddenly ended? What if a few hundred mothers and fathers never again looked on the fair features of their sons? Life was cheap in Europe in 1917 and 1918. The regiment could not return to America with no battles to its credit. Glory is always preferable to life. As I mentioned before the bridge was in flames which threw a sort of screen about the vicinity so that the Austrians evidently did not correctly interpret the American activities. At any rate they did not immediately fire. The second battalion and machine gun company were to pass over the remaining section of the bridge to send to the dry riverbed and deploy along it. Company H was to be held in reserve. Battalion headquarters was located behind one of the large concrete abutments of the bridge and from this point the action was directed. Headquarters company was to entrench along the bank and the third battalion moved to the left in support. Our patrols reported about a battalion of Austrians across the river. In the darkness of the early morning the Americans were growing up along the riverbed and artillery support was arranged for. Most of the movement had been completed when about 3.30 a.m. the Austrians opened fire but fortunately their bullets went high as revealed by their tracers. The American movement being completed just as dawn was breaking about 5 a.m. the order to advance was given. When about 20 yards had been covered the Americans were ordered to lie on the ground. Only a few rounds had been fired and these were as well controlled here as on the firing range. The discipline was perfect. When cease firing sounded down the line not a straggling nervous shot was heard. A little later the order to resume the advance was given and this move took the Americans across a shallow stream. Again they lay low and the Allied guns raked the Austrian positions which were so badly battered. This much having been accomplished the command to advance was again given and this move took the boys over the top. They yell like Indians as they rush forward and they maintain such a line as one sees only at a practice maneuver. For a band of untried soldiers they were splendid. The Austrians returned to hot fire but the boys pressed on as true brothers of the dough boys in France. On and on they went and when at last close quarters were reached they showed that they had forgotten nothing they had learned in the bay and it drills back at Camp Sherman. They were irresistible. The enemy broke and fled. In the same extended order the pursuit was continued and the impossible place which might shelter an Austrian was searched until the town of Kodropil was reached where the order to halt was given. At 3 p.m. on the 4th of November the armistice became binding and the conquerors rested on their laurels. Every Austrian inside a designated line was a prisoner most were willing ones. One of the prisoners marching into Kodropil with the Americans attracted the attention of the villagers who shook their fists at him and called derisively you won't shoot your machine gun from our church tower anymore. He had told the Americans he was a railroader and knew nothing about war. Regimental headquarters was still at San Lorenzo with the 1st Battalion. At 7 a.m. on the 4th about two hours after the battle we left San Lorenzo in March de Vavasone. Our victorious comrades were out of sight and hearing across the river and we remained on our side pitching pup tents along the river shore. Here we learned for the first time that at 3 p.m. an armistice with Austria went into effect. At first it seemed incredible. Sometime later the order was issued to unload all guns at 3 p.m. and this announcement confirmed what we at first thought was a rumor and as the boys broke formation mighty cheers rang out perhaps were thrown high in the air. Throughout the day and night shots were heard. It sounded like war but it was only intensely happy Italians throwing superfluous hand grenades. Now that Austria was out of the war we wondered how long Germany could stand alone. The ever present rumor told us that we were soon to leave for Braveria to beat upon Germany's back door. It seemed that we were to see some real fighting at last. On the 5th of November there was a continual stream of Austrian prisoners coming over the bridge and on the opposite shore there were thousands of prisoners waiting to cross. Every rank of the Austrian army was present. Generals were their staffs as well as ragged nearly bare feet privates. Many young Italian women ran out to the road as the officers passed and recognizing some of their former prosecutors pulled of their feet and dragged them from their carriages slapping and otherwise humiliating them. To the Allied soldier every prisoner was a promising possibility for plunder and the Italians were exceptionally adept at this. Forming two lines the Italians forced the Austrians to march through in single file while they searched the prisoners pockets after which they were made to run the gauntlet. Sometimes even water bottles were snatched from them. The Americans were our pupils and many were souvenir hunting but I do not think they prized water bottles. Generally they gave a few cigarettes if they found anything of value upon the prisoners. Eight thousand of these prisoners came into American hands for delivery to an English prison camp. They were sent back guarded by several headquarters bicycle orderlies. The top sergeant of these orderlies was a mischievous looking light-haired lad so short as to have received the name of Shorty. As the column marched along the road several big Austrians stopped to argue among themselves about something and paid no attention to the guards who ordered them on. However when Shorty appeared and used the butt of his rifle across a couple of backs the argument stopped and the march continued. Arriving at the English camp Shorty reported his eight thousand prisoners to the officer in charge who asked with twinkling eyes Do you want a receipt? Receipt blank said Shorty. I'm glad to get rid of them. At five p.m. November 5th we were ordered back to San Lorenzo and on the march I noticed that my buddy was shaky and dizzy. He had been complaining of a bad cold and headache and we thought it nothing more serious than grip. Toward the end of the two hour walk it was necessary to grasp his arm and help him with his pack. Once more in San Lorenzo we found our corn stalk bed and he retired immediately. During the evening he ate a little polenti. He seemed very tired. If only our kitchens or supplies would reach us. We still had our emergency rations but we dared not eat too much of them. Fortunately we were able to borrow 24 hours rations from the British. In San Lorenzo we learned that the casualties at the bridge had been one killed and seven wounded. The dead soldier, Corporal Charles S. Kel G company had been shot through the forehead. The injured were being cared for in an improvised hospital in San Lorenzo. With the odds against them every wounded man recovered. Certainly the regiment was a remarkably fortunate one. On the following morning we set out for the bridge we had left the night before. Our friend was feeling better after his good night's sleep and said little that was discouraging. We had proceeded but a short distance when upon coming around a curve in the road we sighted the long line of steaming kitchens. Every face beamed and a greater cheer greeted the eats than that which greeted the news of the armistice. At noon we reached the bridge and stopped for mess. It was the first hot meal for several days and slum never tasted better. The bridge was choked with traffic so that we were forced to wait until nearly 3 p.m. to get started. While waiting I noticed our two automobiles crossing the dry bed of the river. A happy thought struck me and I started for them. There was only the driver, one officer and some officer's bedding rolls in the one car and I determined to get in with the baggage. When at last the order came to march I was perched on top of the baggage. The Colonel, Adjutant and an Italian Leoson officer acting as guide were in a fiat. We followed them. Besides those mentioned there was a chaplain and a driver riding in a motorcycle with side car attached. The marching troops were soon left behind and we continued until we reached Coderoepel where our second battalion and attached platoons awaited us. From their lips we learned of the hard chase they had given the Austrians with almost nothing to eat and no sleep for 36 hours. They were a tired lot but they were full of praise for Daddy Butler, the Red Cross man who distributed chocolate bars and cigarettes to them before they went out over the top. Among their captures was a great supply depot containing about $2 million worth of military stores. While we talked the rest of the regiment came up and halted in the road. After some discussion it was agreed that hot supper from the rolling kitchens should be served to the second battalion before proceeding. Returning to the automobile again we set out after the fiat. After riding several miles we reached a little dark village where the occupants of the fiat alighted from their car and passed up the street. Seeing that we were to stop for a while the chaplain and I walked about the village hoping to find something for the inner man since we had eaten nothing since noon. A short distance away where we were served sardines and beautiful fresh bread. When the chaplain asked for the bill the senioris smilingly answered, niente, nothing. Seeing that things were cheap and wishing to take something to the drivers the chaplain asked for three more cans of sardines and some bread. While these were being brought an English speaking Italian soldier approached and asked us if we would like some steak we looked at each other in frank amazement for we thought the country had been stripped of eatables. Recovering ourselves we decided to try the steak. We laughed heartily over our luck as we consumed the delicious steak and bread and thought it fine to be treated like grand deliverers of these poor abused people. While we dined an Italian came from another room and asked the chaplain his rank the chaplain answered truthfully since then we have wondered what effect that had on the conclusion of this episode for when we asked for our bill we heard not niente but 30 lireis. Six dollars. The chaplain dug deeply into his pocket only chaplains have that much money and we left with a dark brown taste in our mouths so much for deliverers. Later the fiat passengers returned and we resumed our advance. After traveling some time we began to see that our Italian guide did not know as much about these roads as he thought he did he stopped frequently and with his flashlight examined his map. It was now about midnight and the countryside was asleep. Notwithstanding this upon arriving at a little village we stopped before several homes blew our horns through stones at the windows and called out until finally a woman replied not much was learned from her and then discussed the guide took a seat and we began to circle the neighborhood we finally understood that he did not know where he was we wondered how the marching troops were standing the long march and also if they too would be marched in circles when they reached this point I heard later that they did that very thing eventually our guide had a thought and we raced after the speeding fiat through the dark silent night going at top speed to keep up with it and fearful that we would lose the motorcycle which had no light after much breathless racing about we reached the town near Pozzuola both cars stopped in the town but in a few minutes the fiat went on while we remained we understood that we would go no further that night and as it was cold we followed a streak of light coming from a building or of which was standing open we found half a dozen men shelling corn over in the corner there was a large pile of corn cobs not long after the men departed kindly failing to put us out as our troops were nowhere in sight and no move seemed imminent we took advantage of the pile of corn cobs with the drivers three blankets we three chaplain, sergeant major and driver lay down side by side on the cobs and fell asleep the sound of a running motor awakened us and we sprang from the bed and out to the road the driver was not around but he returned later with the news that the troops were close by we joined them at Pozzuola they had not reached the point until nearly 4 a.m. and then when the command to halt was given they were so tired and disgusted that some lay down in the muddy road and slept the rest fell off to the side and pitched pub tents all were exhausted and dear reader the war in Italy was over what was the object of this terrible march officially recorded as 43 kilometers 27 miles but more like 35 miles according to the men who marched it we were rushing to no beleaguered allies our presence at this point was not vital to anyone's safety was it to prove to the imbecile officers Italian, English or American who ordered it that Americans could accomplish it I wonder how many deaths could be traced to the miserable events of this night how many tired undernourished lads found the first flu germs on the damp ground as they lay there exhausted after their struggles at 10 o'clock after a warm breakfast the march was continued then we halted at Lovario and went into billets resting here until noon the next day we again resumed the march covering the 12 miles to a field near Iplis before evening the boys pitched tents and prepared for a short stay headquarters detachment went on to Iplis and procured an empty house some of us found a badly battered stone barn for the horses and gathered straw and made a comfortable bed on the second floor for ourselves not a window or door was in the place and at night the wind swept up the valley whistling in the door and out of the windows the Julian Alps were in plain view before us while here we formed an acquaintance with a friendly English-speaking Italian who one evening took two of us to a supper of the Italian's sergeant's major we could scarcely believe our eyes when soup chicken, lettuce, cheese bread and wine were brought in at the same time our mess sergeants were making life miserable for the supply company who they claimed were not delivering enough canned beef and hard tack on the 8th we had a rumor that Germany was going to capitulate on the 10th the colonel left for Padua the headquarters of the American mission to Italy we wondered what was in the air while at Iplis the whole regiment was marched to the river where they bathed in the cold mountain water luckily the air was not cold on this day on the 11th the German armistice was signed and on the 12th the 2nd battalion packed up hurriedly and was marched off to Dalmatia we who remained also took up the march at 1pm on the 12th and proceeded to Cormans, Austria having crossed the borderline about 3pm End of section 6