 INTRODUCTION OF WHAT THE BOYS DID OVER THERE. HOW AND WHY THIS BOOK WAS COMPILED BY THE EDITOR. In assembling the stories contained in this book, we have endeavored to put in realistic and readable form some of the actual and authentic experiences of soldiers and officers of the Allied forces, who have returned to their homes after nobly sacrificing themselves in the service of their respective countries. It has been our endeavor to give to these stories as much of the personality of the boys who have told us their experiences as possible by using their own words whenever their physical condition permitted them to write their own stories. Literary style has been a secondary consideration, as we believe that a majority of the public would prefer to read the truth unabridged than a story garbled by editorial tinkering. We are indebted to the following heroes for their aid in the publication of this book. Private Jesse W. Wade, dispatch writer number 151023. Wounded by shrapnel in the shoulder in Flanders, wounded in the leg at Swassan, veteran of the Mexican campaigns of 1914 and 1916. Seven times cited for gallantry by the French government. Sergeant Jack Winston, number 55525. 19th Battalion, Canadian Infantry, 2nd Canadian Contingent. Wounded in the right arm, left ankle and right knee. Shell shocked and buried. Also gassed at the 2nd Battle of Ypres. Private Al Barker, number 118, 43rd Company, 5th Regiment, American Marines. Shot in the knee and gassed at Chateau Cherry, bayonet wounds in both feet at the Marne. Corporal Frank J. Sears, Company A, 9th Infantry, 2nd Division, AEF. Shell shocked and gassed at Chateau Cherry. Decorated by the French government with the Croix de Guerre. Private AF Edwards, number 6857. 1st Battalion, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, Canadian Infantry. Wounded in the right hand, right arm and buried by Shell. Machine Gunner George Eckert, number 105688. 1st MG Battalion, 1st Division, AEF. Wounded in the leg and gassed at Catenye. Decorated by the French government with the Croix de Guerre. Sergeant TS Grundy, 15918. Royal Fusiliers, Middlesex Regiment, English Army. Wounded in shoulder at Ypres and gassed at Luce. Decorated by the British government with the Mon Star, one of the first hundred thousand. Sergeant Alexander Gibb, number 444476. 26th Battalion, New Brunswick Regiment, 2nd Canadian Contingent. Wounded in both legs, Shell shocked and gassed at Ypres. G. McGavity, number 91805. Gunner of the 8th Battery, 1st Canadian Field Artillery. Wounded in the left foot, left thigh, left shoulder and gassed. Sergeant Frederick Ralph Muir, number 81611. 10th Battalion, CEF. Wounded at Festa Bear, Belgium, leg amputated at the knee. Private George Oxton, 10th Battalion, CEF, number 81680. Wounded at Festa Bear, Belgium, right leg amputated at hip. Private John Miller, number 122957. 96th Company, 6th Regiment, U.S. Marines. Private Jack Nieland, number 10543rd Company, 5th Regiment, American Marines. Trapnel wound in the head at Bellow Woods. Wounded and gassed at Chateau Thierry. Sergeant Mark L. Nicholson, number 3736. 10th Liverpool Scottish BEF. Wounded in head at Dardanelle. Partially blinded and gassed, Hooge, France. Sergeant E. D. G. Aylin, number 475337. Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, Princess Pat's. Blinded in right eye at Hooge, France. Wounded in left shoulder. Sergeant Harry Hall, number 19805, A Company, 10th Battalion, 1st Canadian Contingent. Trapnel wounds left arm and leg. Givenchy, June, 1915. Lance Corporal Edmund Hall, 2nd Scottish Rifles, BEF. Regular Army, 15 years service, three and one-half in France. Wounded, Battle of Somme, 1916. Decoration, Star of Mons. It is the hope of the authors that what the boys did over there will give to its readers some idea of real conditions in the field and bring to those of us who remained at home a realization of the debt we owe to the men who have suffered for us. End of introduction. Chapter 1 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. My experience as a dispatcher by Private Jesse W. Wade, number 151023, dispatch writer, AEF. I enlisted in the U.S. Army some five years ago and have had continuous service ever since. Being in the Army before the war broke out enabled me to know something about both sides of Army life. But peace times and war times are as different as day and night. One war is enough for any man, so now I am ready to settle down. But before I do, I will endeavor to tell you some of my experiences in this great war overseas. Being already in the Army, but in a branch of the service that was not likely to go over among the first, I volunteered to go with the first contingent as a dispatcher. We started the first leg of our journey across the Atlantic and then we began those anxious nights of watching for submarines and that awful sea sickness for some twelve days. At last we set our feet on solid ground again and started our long journey across France in some French cattle cars marked eight horses or forty men. About three days in one of those and one really believes there is a war going on somewhere. We were all very much disappointed when we were all landed a long way from the front and told we would stay there until we were trained in modern warfare. But all being blue-blooded Americans we took it very easy, building camps and getting things ready for the other boys that were coming. The small village near our camps was full of our boys every night. Mum's extra dry champagne was selling at two and a half francs per quart, forty-nine cents U.S. It wasn't very long before our boys were taking baths in champagne. After having a few weeks of camp life there were fifty men picked out to go to the English front to receive instructions in modern warfare. I was among the lucky ones and then the fun of war began. We were sent to one of the most active British fronts and there we lived in the trenches night and day for two months. There I began to realize that Sherman's words were only too true. Anyone who never had the misfortune to be in Flanders up around Ypres at the time will never know the hardships that the British and a few Americans had to go through. We stood it wonderfully well, though. We could have enjoyed ourselves much more on Broadway. But the French say C'est la guerre, it's the war. We had been in the trenches some three weeks before we had the opportunity of going over the top. One's feelings the first time he goes over the top can never be known to anyone but himself. One will be dozing on the firing step and the platoon leader comes around and whispers in your ear to get ready. The time is set for 1.13 a.m. You can hardly talk above a whisper for the least noise draws fire from the enemy. As the time draws near you look at your watch and see that you have only seven or eight minutes. Yet you almost sink down and it seems as though the bones have gone out of your legs and back. The time is getting short and at last the big guns open up and something just seems to push you up and over. Before you are aware of what is happening you are out on no man's land acting like a veteran. After one or two of these successful raids you do not think war is so bad after all. It is real fun but you have not seen enough of it yet. Tommy says wait till you have three years of it and you'll be bloody well sick of it Sammy. One year was enough to make me sick of it. Another very pleasant job is to crawl out on no man's land some dark night on patrol dragging yourself along on the ground an inch at a time for fear of being heard and fired upon and just as you think everything is going fine you run over a twig and break it. It snaps and sounds like a ton of dynamite going up and then they send up a star shell to light up no man's land and you begin to say your prayers. Then all is quiet again and you finish your work and feel your way back to the trench. There is never a happier moment than when you drop back in your own trench safe and sound among friends. It was on one of the patrols that I got my first wounds. I was sent out about one thirty a.m. with a patrol of English to do some very ticklish work and in cutting our way through some wire entanglements the wire snapped and made a ringing noise and the Germans opened up on us throwing everything at us but their shoes. We were giving them a receipt for all they sent us until all at once I began to feel sick and my arm became numb. I almost collapsed but I knew that that was no place to act like a girl in faint so I began crawling back toward our trench. It was hard to do having only one hand free but at last I crawled into the trench where I found another horror waiting. Our trench was full of gas and I did not have my gas mask on and as I got one breath of it I was finished and the next thing I knew I was back in a nice little bed between two white sheets with a little blonde nurse smiling down at me. I thought that I had died and that I was in heaven until I heard a Tommy say where in hell is me fags and then I knew I was not in heaven but was not sure I was alive yet. At last I found out I was for about thirty minutes later the gas began to make me sick. Gas sickness is the worst sickness in the world. After three weeks in bed I was getting along fine and was sent to a convalescent hospital. There we had the time of our lives for two weeks when we were sent back to duty. It was just like a homecoming to get back with our own boys again after everyone thought you were dead. Everything ran along smoothly for a while until I was detailed as a dispatch rider, one of the most dangerous jobs in the army. The average term of a dispatcher's life is just 23 minutes so you can't blame me for taking out $10,000 worth of life insurance. At first it was not so dangerous for our troops had not yet taken over any part of the line but we had to make trips to the front every day or two. At last we were ordered into the line and took over a sector of our own and a prouder bunch of boys was not to be found. We were then doing what we had come over to do. Everything was quiet for the first few months except for an occasional raiding party. We spent the hardest winter I ever put in or ever want to and if it had not been for the cooties we should have frozen but they kept us scratching and moving and kept our blood in circulation. At last spring came and things became more active as we were getting more men on the front. On the 18th day of July 1918 it was just like turning out a bunch of hungry lions for they turned us loose and said go get them. We have been getting them ever since. At Chateau Chieri we began driving them back so fast that they threw the Prussians and Bavarians at us, all big fellows six foot and over and very wicked fighters. Being a dispatch rider I was around some point of the line most all the time and had the opportunity to go over the top with the boys when not otherwise occupied. Once in a while the dispatch riders would be given 24 or 48 hours off during which we could do as we pleased. Most of us went up in the line and over the top with the boys or those who had any qualifications as a shot would go out with a sniping squad which was very interesting as well as dangerous. At one time I had the pleasure of going up in an observation balloon and seeing the fighting from the German side. I have seen with my own eyes German officers driving their men into battle with the whip or the point of a gun. I have also seen some of the atrocities committed by the Hun in Belgium and along the borders of France. It just makes one's blood run cold to think of it as some of you do. You ask why a boy wants to stand up and be shot down by those dogs? I'll tell you why. It is because he doesn't want his own mother or sister to be treated as the Belgians and French women and girls have been treated. Every man woman and child owes the deepest respect to any boy who has done his bit in the world war. Now to get back to the battle of Chateau-Sherry and tell you a few of my own experiences. In that battle one of the most thrilling experiences happened to me. The fight began at 3.30 a.m. July 26. I had just ridden up to a section of our line where the enemy had started a box barrage which it is almost impossible to get through alive and is almost like madness to attempt. At this time it was important that a certain message be delivered at the rear. Such a message is sent with from two to six riders so that one of them will be sure to get through. There were five of us there at the time but owing to the fact that I had just come back from a trip the message was sent by the other four riders. We watched them but not one of them got through the barrage. Then the commander looked at me and I looked at him. He didn't say anything but his look had words in it written in big letters saying it's up to you. I'll admit that I was scared. Not the cowardly kind but a different kind of fear. I once heard a general say that a soldier's life was made up of four parts. Smiles and tears, profanity and prayers. And I think I executed all four of them at the same instant. It was only a delay of a few moments as he had the fifth message already written out and in his hand. So I jumped on my machine, grabbed the message and was gone before he knew what it was all about. I delivered the message without a scratch but I think I was insane at the time for it all seems like a dream. It was nothing short of a miracle. The fighting was very heavy for some days after that and there was a similar case that occurred shortly afterward. This time I was the only rider at hand and I had to go. But rather than take another chance with the barrage I could go across a corner of no man's land and circle around to the left. This avoided the barrage but I had to face the enemy machine gun fire which was very heavy. I started out on my last trip as a dispatcher and was not seen until going over a slight rise when the enemy saw me. They opened up on me and threw everything at me but iron crosses. The machine gun was the worst but after three minutes of hard riding over rough ground, shell holes and craters I was out of range of the machine guns. Then they began throwing the larger guns at me. My machine was riddled with bullets. The engine was about out of commission but as I was through the worst of it and was shaking hands with myself on how lucky I had been, I realized that I had been hit in the leg and after the excitement had died down I was so weak I could not sit on my machine again. Good luck came along in the shape of a Frenchman and he helped me to headquarters some five hundred yards away. I delivered the message and then collapsed and a few days later awoke in a French hospital in Paris. Since then I have been having the time of my life and am back in the dear old US now almost well but willing to go through it all again for the same cause. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Bringing in a Sniper An incident of the Battle of Kemmel Hill told by Sergeant Jack Winston, 55525, 19th Battalion, Canadian Infantry, 2nd Canadian Contingent. About two hours before dawn on the morning of October 8, 1915, my company were in a sector of the front line trenches near Kemmel Hill. My comrades were taking their ease as we had been in comparative quiet for the previous three days. They were variously employed, some riding home, others idly smoking, the signalman lounging in the dugout near his telephone instrument, and sundry others doing their bit toward cleanliness by removing cooties from their shirts. Our Lieutenant was looking hard across no man's land through the trench periscope, and I wondered what was keeping him so long, looking at a spot I thought we all knew by heart. He stood there perfectly immovable for at least fifteen minutes, while several star shells fired both from our own lines and the German trenches flared and died. Finally he turned to me and whispered, Jack, I do not remember that dead horse out there yesterday. Take a look and tell me if you remember seeing it before. I looked at the spot indicated, and sure enough there was a dead horse lying at the side of a shell-hole where I could have sworn there was nothing the day before. I told the Lieutenant I was sure that nothing had been there on the previous day and waited for further orders. German snipers had annoyed us considerably, and as they took great pains in concealing their nests we had little success in stopping them. Several casualties had resulted from their activities. The Lieutenant had evidently been thinking while taking his long observation, for he said almost at once I believe that nag is a neat bit of camouflage. One of those huns is probably hidden in that carcass to get a better shot at us. He then told me to have the men at the port holes fire at the carcass at five second intervals to keep Fritz, if he were there, under cover, and taking advantage of the dark interval between the glare of the star shells, he slipped over the top, having told me he was going to get that hun. Imagine my suspense for the next half hour. I kept looking through the periscope, but for fully fifteen minutes I could not find my officer. Finally I spotted him sprawled out, apparently dead, as a star shell lit up the ground within the range of the periscope. As no shot had been fired except from our port holes I knew he was not as dead as he seemed, and sure enough when next I could make him out he was several yards ahead and to the left of the spot where I had last seen him. Then I knew what he was after. He was making a detour to approach the carcass from the rear, and as he could only move in the dark intervals between star shells his progress was of necessity slow. At the end of another fifteen minutes I located him in a position as nearly as I could judge about ten yards in the rear and just a step to the left of the carcass. I then thought it time for me to take a hand and give him what help I could. Running into the signalman's dugout I told him to call for a barrage, giving the range at approximately thirty yards behind the point at which the carcass lay. I then jumped back to the periscope only to see by the next flare that the lieutenant was no longer in sight. Leaving the periscope I selected three men whom I was sure I could trust and by the time I had brought them to the firing step the barrage from the guns in our rear for which the signalman had telegraphed began to fall. Quickly explaining to the men what I had in mind that we were going to help the lieutenant I was about to give the order to go over the top when another man who had overheard begged me for permission to accompany us and as I had need for someone to repair the barbed wire which the lieutenant had cut on his way out I gave him the job together with permission to go with us. After a few words of instruction to the corporal who during my absence was left in command of our sector we went silently over the top at the point where the lieutenant had preceded us. The barrage had by this time aroused the curiosity of the enemy and they were replying with a brisk shelling of our lines and the batteries that were laying down the barrage. We advanced at a walk and were fortunate enough to find the place where our lieutenant had cut his way through our barbed wire. There I left my volunteers with the necessary tools to repair the wire after we should have passed through it on our return. It was now beginning to get light enough for us to see several yards in either direction around us and after moving forward about fifty yards beyond the wire we ran straight into the lieutenant who was driving the hunt before him at the muzzle of his automatic. We wasted no time on the return journey but hustled fritzy along at a brisk pace. Just as we had passed back through the barbed wire a piece of shrapnel struck my volunteer in the shoulder and I was forced to stop and leave a man to complete the repairs on the wire while I helped the wounded man back to the trenches. The remaining men who had started with me had remained with the lieutenant and his prisoner and we found all safe in the trench on our arrival. My wounded man proved to be not seriously hurt and the man who remained to mend the wire also returned unhurt. When all were safe in the trench the lieutenant called off the barrage and the enemy in our front was doubtless wondering what it was all about until the sniper who as the lieutenant surmised was hidden in the camouflage carcass returned no more. The lieutenant had arrived at a point about five paces behind the hunt before the sniper discovered him and then had him covered with his automatic. Like most of his breed there was a wide yellow streak in this baby killer and he cried, Comrade, instantly. By the time the lieutenant had secured his prisoner's rifle our barrage was falling and under its protection he began his march back with the prisoner and met us before he had gone twenty-five yards. The rest you know. The prisoner expected to be killed at once and begged piteously for his life saying he had a wife and three children. One of the men replied that if he had his way he would make it a widow and three orphans. Needless to say he did not have his way and for all I know that sniper is still eating three square meals per day in a prison camp. End of chapter two. Chapter three of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. On the Flanders Front by Sergeant Jack Winston. It was in November 1915 we were at Kimmel Hill when the wet weather started in. I remember one night I was sent out of the trenches to the dump near the dressing station for rations. We had no communication trenches then owing to the heavy shelling we were getting from the German artillery and we never had the guns to come back at them. We had to go out at dusk through the fields known to us as Overland. We got down to the dump all right but coming back the Germans saw us and they turned three machine guns on us. I was about fifty yards from the front line when the barrage started. My pal was just behind me. About four yards from us was an old French trench with about three feet of water in it. I jumped into that with my pal. The Germans kept the barrage up for about a half an hour and as soon as it stopped I made my way for the front lines. Just imagine what condition I was in when I reached there. I was soaking wet but the rations were worse. Well anyhow I had to do my sentry duty just the same because if one man was shy those days it put all the work on some of his comrades. I could not get a change of clothing so I took off my pants and wore my blanket like a Scotchman would his kilts. It's wonderful to me the hardships a man can contend with. We could get very little water up the front line and water means an awful lot to a man over there. Well there was a creek running from the German front line across No Man's Land and into our trench and coming over No Man's Land it ran over quite a few dead bodies. We were told by our medical officer not to drink this water because the Huns might have put poison into it. But we had to get water someplace so we all took a chance and drank it and I am still alive and just as good as ever. We were in the trenches for six days at a time. What good times we used to have when we were out in our billets. It was there we used to get the chance to have a good feed from the Belgian peasants. Eggs and chips was our favorite dish. Even when the men are out of the trenches they have to be ready in case of an attack. One night we got the orders from the front line that the trenches had caved in and of course we had to go up and help the boys build them up again. It was this night while carrying up sandbags a bullet struck my right arm. I made the front line all right but as soon as I was dressed by the stretcher bearer I was sent back to the dressing station to the medical officer to receive attention. I was then sent to the field hospital and the next day I was removed on an ambulance train and sent to the base hospital in Etople. I might state that this hospital was an American hospital. How wonderful it was to me to find myself back in a nice white bed again. I was there for two weeks and then sent to a convalescent hospital for another week. At the beginning of December I found myself on the way back to the front line. Of course all my pals who were still there were glad to see me again. But believe me it was hard to leave that nice white bed and go back somewhere in the mud. I made the best of it. I knew it was doing my duty as every soldier does. I had quite a few narrow escapes after that. One day as I sat in the trench a German high explosive shell hit the next bay to where I was and when they explode they throw up with them all loose stuff that is in their reach. This one threw up an old French bayonet which missed my head by about two inches but as long as it did not hit me I should worry. Our routine there was six days in the front line, six in the billets and six in the reserve. The only thing I did not like about the reserve was that the poor fellows that got killed in the trenches if there was anything left of them to give a decent burial were brought out of the trenches at night and put into an old barn near the dressing station until the next morning for burial. It was our duty to watch the bodies so that the rats would not eat them. Just imagine about six fellows lying in an old barn all riddled with bullets and shrapnel and the wind blowing and the rain coming through and to go and look at these poor fellows with a flashlight. Some with their heads and arms blown off but we had to do it. From Kimmel Hill we were moved in March 1916 to St. Elwa where we put up a good scrap against heavy odds. I pulled through that all right. I remember we took some prisoners. There was a little Scotchman in my company who was always looking for souvenirs and he brought a big German down the trench and made a grab for his hat. The Dutchman made a grab for it and said, if you want to catch a cold I don't. I thought that was very funny but jock did not. From there we moved to the Somme and it was here that the first British tanks were used. I got it again on the morning of September 15 from a German high explosive, was buried, receiving shell shock and some wounds. A few days later I found myself in a hospital and had a wonderful time but I found that the doctors would not let me go back to France so I was returned to Canada. I was in Canada two weeks when I came over to the good old USA to help recruiting for the British and Canadian Army. I have worked on the Liberty Loan Drives, Red Cross, Knights of Columbus and all other drives to keep the boys over there. One thing to my sorrow during the fourth Liberty Loan Drive was that I sold all the buttons of my overcoat to each person who bought a $500 bond. The only thing that worried me was that I never had enough buttons but as we all know a fellow would not want to have two or three hundred buttons on his coat to fasten. I only wish I was in France to stay to the finish and come back with the rest of the boys who were left. The US declared war upon Germany April 6, 1917. I was going to college at the time. I went to spend a weekend in New York City and happened to be in Union Square where recruiting of soldiers, sailors and marines was taking place. A captain of the US Navy was speaking on patriotism. As I stood there and listened a thrill went through me and I decided to enlist at once. I chose the marines because they were always the first to fight. I was sent to Paris Island, South Carolina for my training where I spent three months and on August 12, 1917, I was sent to Quantico, Virginia for my overseas equipment. On August 21, 1917, I sailed for France. The trip across was a very eventful one as we were twice shot at by submarines but we succeeded in alluding them. Nine days later we arrived at Brest, France where we were all stationed in barracks. My first real training began in France. Drilled from morning to night together with such things as trench digging, bayonet fighting, grenade throwing and all other things necessary to an American Marine. This lasted about three months. My first real encounter occurred when we were ordered to the Belgian front with Australian Anzacs. There I had my first glimpse of the Germans. We battled with them for twelve hours and I received a bayonet thrust in my right foot which laid me up for three weeks and I was sent to base hospital number three near St. Lazar. After I recovered I was again sent to the Belgian front where in the next encounter with the Germans I was captured and sent to a prison camp built in the German trenches. I was there with eight other Marines for twenty-one days when a French air squadron descended upon the Germans and killed or wounded all of them. A French aviator, I do not recall his name, took me in his machine and we flew one hundred two miles to the French forces. Being weak from loss of blood and sleep I was kept there a week and then sent back to my own company. My fellow Marines had given me up for dead and were more than overjoyed to see me. A few days later I was selected as a sniper with a few others and we advanced to a point as near the Germans as possible. Together with another Marine, Jack Nieland, who later saved my life, I climbed a tall tree as near as possible to the German trenches and stationed myself there very comfortably. We could see the Germans setting machine guns in position to be used against our forces. We both had our rifles and plenty of ammunition so we began to pick off the men who were operating the machine guns. These machine guns are the most disastrous and dangerous things in warfare. We succeeded in putting four of these guns out of commission when we were discovered by German snipers and had all we could do to defend ourselves. I received a bullet wound in my knee and fell twenty feet to the ground. The other Marine, Nieland, quickly descended and protected me with his own body and although he received three bullets he carried me to safety. As we were far from any hospital we were treated in the trenches to the best of the abilities of the doctors there. We had Germans all around us and although we kept up a heavy fire we could not persuade them to come out and fight us as men. They preferred trying a means to defeat us which ensured their own safety and that was to try to starve us out. For six days we lived on hard black bread and dirty water. Our commander, previous to this, had sent out a Marine who had volunteered to get through the German lines and bring us help. We never dreamed that he would succeed in getting through but on the seventh day we saw several black specks in the air but thought nothing of them until they came close and we saw that they were American airplanes come to our assistance. The flyers descended as low as possible and threw us food in waterproof canvas bags. They also dropped bombs on the Germans and then flew away after promising to send a company of Marines to our rescue. This promise we found in a note contained in one of the bags of food. It also told us to keep up our courage as we would surely be saved. All this time I was laid up with a wound in my knee but I could hear our boys firing at the enemy and they had all they could do to keep me in bed. Five days later I was aroused by an attendant and was told that an American scout had succeeded in making his way into our trenches and told us that our relief was on its way and would be here at any time. I felt much stronger after I heard this news and felt that I could fight the biggest German and finish him. The detachment of Marines arrived after we had been in these trenches for sixteen days. We now outnumbered the Germans so we speedily put them to flight. After the conflict we counted 421 German dead bodies and we also took 1200 prisoners. Our loss was 62 dead and 30 slightly wounded. We were then sent to a rest camp where we spent two weeks and I had my wound treated. At the end of our two weeks I was able to walk about and was sent to the western front near Cambrai where the Germans were gaining and we were instructed to stop them. This time we did not fight from the trenches but in the open field and there were plenty of human targets for both sides. It was a terrible battle, shells were bursting in the air, cannons were roaring and there were loud reports every time a shell hit the dust. I was operating a machine gun and as a machine gunner's life on a battlefield only lasted an average of 12 minutes it must have been a miracle that saved me from being killed. My other two comrades were killed immediately and I was left alone to operate the gun. A German sniper took a shot at me but instead of hitting me he put my gun out of order. That left me with only a revolver and drawing this I kept popping away at every German I saw. At last we were given the order to advance and for the third time I went over the top to glory. As we pressed on the enemy gave way little by little and by twelve o'clock at noon the battle had started the day before at the same hour. We had either killed or taken all our opponents prisoners. We were then given a much needed rest. We spent a month in a rest camp and were then sent to Chateau Thierry about 40 miles from Paris where we engaged in a battle which proved to be the turning point of the war. I think I shall remember this fight all my life. We had drawn up all our ammunition trains, food supplies and other munitions and were gathered around our campfires telling stories. At a little past midnight we were told to get ready. I was in the second division and we were ordered to advance first. Suddenly someone fired a shot. Whether it came from our lines or the enemy I did not know. The battle had begun. With two hundred others I was cut off and we found ourselves surrounded by the enemy. It was all hand-to-hand fighting and more than once I felt a hand creep to my neck or a cold blade touch my face but always managed to ward it off. Five hours of hard fighting still found us in the midst of the Germans. Whispering a few words to my nearest companion we made a dash and cut our way through the thick masses of the enemy. Having no cover we gathered together the bodies of German dead and piled them one upon the other and used them as protection against our enemies. While here a gas bomb exploded and I fell back unconscious. When I came to myself I was aboard a ship bound for the good old USA. As I was so badly gassed that I would no longer be useful as a fighter they were sending me home. I made a good recovery and I thank God for my life. That is my story and if I had to go through it again I would do it gladly for my country and the flag. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. In the Verdun Sector by Corporal Frank J. Sears, Company A. 9th Infantry, 2nd Division, AEF In the winter of 1917 we found ourselves marching along a little road somewhere in France. It was cold and dismal and the hail came down in sheets but we marched on and on. I looked at the fellow alongside of me and could not tell whether he was ready to laugh or cry. There was not much talking en route. I didn't feel much like talking myself and couldn't understand what made me feel so downhearted. It was the day we all looked and hoped for our chance in the battle. When we took over our sector one kilometer from Saint-Méal, the French told us it was a quiet sector and to keep it that way. The first four days we did not care how quiet it was so long as we were allowed down in the dugouts. The shells whizzing past our heads annoyed us a little, it being our first experience. It took us a few days to become accustomed to our new home and the noise of bursting shrapnel. We knew we were not going to stay there long. In the American army we never do linger long in one place as there is no retreat in our army. There was only one direction for us to follow and that was toward Berlin. The idea of the French telling us to keep Verdun's sector quiet amused us. For while we had no desire to start anything for a few days there wasn't a yellow man in our bunch. Yet we hesitated before we became accustomed to the noise to take our first chance at what we termed slaughter. However one night about seven days after we took over our sector with the French army a Fritz sent over one of his 77 shrapnel shells which wiped out our entire mess shack. That was a bad mistake on Fritz's part for it was a serious offense for anyone to tamper with the Sammy's chow. No matter how hard a night he has spent he will always get up and appetite where there is anything to eat. That night we formed a raiding party. We crept out of the first line trench with three squads. It was our first entry into no man's land and we had heard so many strange tales about this place we shied at everything we saw. We split up into squads. Our password was to knock three times on the helmet. So we parted. I went off to the right with a squad. Each man covered his ground trying to find out whether the Hun had any intention of making a raid the next day. The trenches are protected by barbed wire fences and when the Huns and Tin going over the top they cut the wires on the previous night and it was our duty to find out whether or not these wires had been cut. The barbed wire was okay on the ground we covered so we started back to meet the other squads. We did not go far for about ten feet away we heard a noise which is something unusual on a raiding party in no man's land. We stopped short and looked at each other. We did not know what to do for as I have said this was our first experience. One of the boys said to me give them the signal. I knocked three times on my helmet but received no reply so one of the boys said he would creep over and investigate. But it wasn't necessary because just then a skyrocket went up into the air. Every soldier knows that this means to get under cover quickly for the rocket would light up the sky and make nice targets of us for Fritz. Luckily for us there was a shell hole to jump into for as soon as we laid low there came the pop pop pop of the German machine guns. We laid there in the mud through what seemed to us like an eternity but which was in reality only about two hours. However luck was with us and we finally crawled out of our hiding place and arrived behind our own lines once more. Editor's note. For his gallantry in this raid of which he says nothing in the above article Corporal Sears was awarded the Croix de Guerre by the French government. HLF End of Chapter 5 Chapter 6 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Hun I was sure I got by Corporal Frank J. Sears. It was sometime last April 1918 when we got the order we were going over. Our artillery opened up with a full barrage. We took the right flank and another regiment of infantry took the left. The Marines took the center. We had been told time and time again if we had to use the bayonet to pull it out quick. But somehow or other I was doubtful about that. We were having a real American hand-to-hand fight with them when I got my eye on one something we very seldom do. Just as I got near him he threw his gun down in his hands up and yelled Comorod Comorod. I said Comorod HLF and became so excited I gave him a long jab with my old American bayonet and hesitated before making an attempt to pull it out. When I tried to it was too late for it was wedged in too firmly. I put my foot on him and pulled and pulled but the body lifted right up with a bayonet so I thought I'd try my luck without a bayonet. I released the bayonet from my rifle and left it as an American souvenir to the Fritz one which he will never be able to appreciate. This is all I remember of that battle. Life in the trenches is made up of cooties, rats, mud and gas masks. We had heard from fellows who had been there before us what we thought were jokes about cooties and trench rats but it was no joke to me when I looked for the first time at a rat almost as big as a cat. It was lying in my bunk and I heard it squeal. Looking down I had my first view of a trench rat. I threw a heavy hobnailed shoe at him and he merely changed his position and looked around to see who had interrupted him. After that it wasn't strange to wake up and find them running across you but I will say that if it were a matter of choice I would select a hundred rats in preference to two cooties. For the cootie is an unreasonable bird and when a Sammy has come back from the lines exhausted he lays down in the hopes of snatching a few hours sleep before being called on. But the cooties have no respect for Sammy and they pester him until he has no more idea of sleep to start in and hunt for the cooties that are annoying him. You have all more or less had fever but I guess there are none of you over here who knows of the mud fever. We all used to shy at mud during the rainy season in the year 1917. After a heavy storm the boys hated to go out to drill as the mud got so bad there that the only way of getting out from the drill was by going on sick report in the morning. I remember the morning six buddies and myself went over to the infirmary. I happened to be the first one in line. The doctor came up to me and said what's your trouble? At first I said I don't know sir and he said well what are you doing here if you don't know? Where do you feel sick? And I told him all over. So he called the pill roller over and told him to take my temperature. I sat down and the pill roller put the glass tube in my mouth which always balled the detail up. He then held hands with me for a while and I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was taking my pulse. He then gave the final report to the skipper who came to me and said you have the mud fever. He then turned to the orderly and said give him two CC pills and mark him duty. That's how I happened to get over the mud fever. We became so used to mud up in the lines that if our chow did not have some mud or muddy water in it we could not digest it. It was just a case of mud all over. Eat, drink, sleep and wash in mud. And now for the old reliable which tortured us while wearing it but without which we should have been lost. The gas mask. We were not fortunate enough to have ever received the American gas masks and have never seen one over there. The first two American divisions received English and French masks. The English mask looks like a false face with two big glass eyes and a nose clip which resembles a clothes pin and keeps the gas from going through the nostrils. There is also a tube which goes into the mouth with a hard piece of rubber on it to make it air tight. This mouthpiece is a long caterpillar tube which connects the mask to a tin can containing a chemical composition of charcoal, rocks, sand and other medical decoctions. There were times when we endured these masks from 18 to 36 hours. Sometimes we would just get the order to take them off and thinking the danger past would get ready to eat when the command to put them on again would be given. This is done by means of horns at intervals along the whole line of trenches. Each horn gives the signal which is repeated right through the lines. It is a wonderful relief after having a mask on a long time to be able to breathe fresh air again. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Two years in the Ypres salient. As told by Private Albert Franklin Edwards, Number 6857, First Battalion, First Brigade, First Division, Canadian Infantry. Editors note, these were the first Canadians to go overseas in the Great War. HLF I was born in Canada but had lived virtually all my life in the United States. I thought war was coming and returned to Canada to be ready to do my bit when the time arrived. And I was just in time, arriving in Toronto on August 3, 1914. On August 4, 1914, I was at dinner with seven other boys when the word came that war was declared and the whole eight of us determined to get in it without delay. So on the next day, August 5, we enlisted in the Canadian Dragoons. After two weeks in the Dragoons, I was transferred to the infantry, went into training at Toronto, and afterward at Valcartier, which occupied the next two months. One Sunday morning we were called for parade and thought we were going to church, but were notified we had to pack up for overseas service. We went to Montreal where we took a boat down the St. Lawrence to Halifax. We there joined the convoy consisting of 33,000 men of the artillery and infantry. We sailed for England on October 22, 1914, and as nearly as I can remember took about 16 days to make the trip to Plymouth. Though slow the voyage was without incident worthy of mention. We were for some unknown reason held five days in Plymouth Harbor before disembarking, and then they hustled us off to the training camp on Salisbury Plains where we had a miserable existence until February 1915. At Salisbury we drilled in mud and water that was at times waist deep caused by the continuous rains and floods. It sure was fine training for the Flanders mud that we were to encounter later. The storms were so severe at times that tents and their contents were washed away. As a result an epidemic of spinal meningitis hit the camp and of the 33,000 who arrived at Salisbury 4,400 were stricken with this disease only a few of whom recovered. While at Salisbury I was granted my first leave and started for London together with my pal a boy named Frazier who also had leave. We had three days absence from camp coming to us and they were some three days. We arrived in London at 5.15 pm and in accord with English custom had tea at once in the corner house Piccadilly where many soldiers congregated. At the corner house we received 61 invitations to the theater and dinner for the next day. That night we attended the Princess Theatre where as we entered the orchestra played the Canadian anthem The Maple Leaf Forever. The audience cheered and we were forced to make a speech. You see we were the first Canadians the English people had seen who had come to do their bit. That night I lost track of Frazier. After three wonderful days I returned to camp as my leave had expired. Frazier was not on the train with me and as a matter of fact did not arrive until 24 hours later. He was called before the Colonel for overstaying his leave and on being questioned told the Colonel that just as he arrived at the railroad station a band started playing God Save the King and he had to stand at attention so long that he missed the train. He was excused and returned to duty but they do say there was a suspicious twinkle in the Colonel's eye as he dismissed him. I sometimes wish I had Frazier's powers of quick invention. On February 3rd we left Salisbury encampment en route for France landing at St. Lazar, thins by train to Hasbrook and St. Omer where the fever laid me up in the hospital for about ten days. I joined the battalion again at Armantier where we remained a few days and then went forward to Ypres. On April 22, 1915 we went in the battle at Ypres and for the first time in history were called upon to meet a gas attack by the Germans. Editors note, this was the first time this inhuman method of warfare was used by a supposedly civilized nation. HLF. At first we thought the gas we saw coming toward us was a bank of fog and it gave us no anxiety. It was at 4.30 p.m. that the Huns turned the gas on us and I was fortunate to be in the first battalion at a point where the gas was not so thick. The thickest part of the gas swept over the 8th, 10th, 11th, 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th battalions. Eighty-five percent of the men who met this attack were more or less severely gassed. At points the gas was so severe that it turned the brass buttons on the tunics of the men green. Some of the men killed by gas fell, but some remained standing even in death so swift was its action. Our artillery, although short of ammunition, was our main support in this action. Had the Germans forced a passage here the roads to Paris, Calais and the English coast would have been virtually open. There were 72,000 Germans opposed to 13,000 Canadian infantry in this action, but the boys from Canada held fast. The next day, April 23, a small fragment of shrapnel in my right hand sent me to the hospital in Boulogne. Fine treatment by the American doctors and nurses there soon had me in shape again and I was returned to the line through the Canadian base at Le Havre. Since I went through Festabert to Givenchy where the old first battalion went into battle with 919 men and six hours later over 600 had made the great sacrifice. Minor casualties left us only 137 men able to answer roll call and several of these had to go to the hospital on account of wounds received here. The first week of July we went to Plugsturt which we called home for a long time. We called Plugsturt home because it was so peaceful. The Germans dared not shell us as we were so close to their trenches that they were afraid of hitting their own men. The shell craters through which our trenches ran were only 13 yards from the trenches of the enemy and we could hear the Saxons who opposed us singing songs in English which they all seemed to speak fluently. One night I was on patrol when our party passed German patrol not five yards distant. Neither side dared fire for fear of starting the machine gun fire. One of the Saxons called out, hello Canuck, how's Quebec Winnipeg and Vancouver. Evidently he had been in Quebec as he spoke of the St. Regis Hotel. At Plugsturt the British had started a sap 48 feet deep where a tunnel with 25 galleries running off from it undermined the town. It took two years to build and was planted with 100,000 tons of high explosive dynamite. When it was exploded it blew up the entire town and also blew 61,000 hounds hell west and crooked. This was the only way to take the position as the elaborate trench system of the Germans was practically impregnable. It was at Plugsturt that the Huns got our goat by showing the wearing apparel of Belgian girls on the points of their bayonets. After exploding the mine we explored the German trenches and found the most wonderful underground living quarters for the troops fitted with every modern convenience. We remained here three and a half months and then were moved to Kemmel to the C4 trenches where we spent the winter. Here I was taken sick and sent to the hospital at Baillieu and returned to duty again at Cambrai and thence went to St. Quentin. Remained at St. Quentin until September 17th when I had a piece of shrapnel lodged in my arm and was burned by a shell while trying to dig out a comrade in a similar predicament except that he died before we got him out. I was buried but conscious for four hours and twenty minutes and I thought of every event of my life in that time. When finally rescued the fresh air and reaction were too much for me and I lost consciousness which I did not regain until I was in England in the Duchess of Conats hospital. I had been sent there by way of Le Havre and remained six months in bed in a plaster cast. I was then returned to a hospital ship and taken to St. John New Brunswick where I received electrical and massage treatment. From St. John I went to the convalescent hospital at Fredrickton in B and was discharged on August 19, 1918. Number 6857 First Battalion First Brigade First Division Canadian Infantry One night in October 1915 while on patrol I found an officer and a private of the Prussian Guard fooling around our wire entanglements. They had evidently been under our fire as the officer was suffering from three abdominal wounds and died as I was trying to drag him into our lines. The private was a big fellow about six feet three inches tall and was furious at being captured. As I had him at my bayonet's point he gave me no trouble but when we arrived at our lines he took it out on the sentry by spitting at him and slapping him in the face. We sat Mr. Prussian on the firing step and told him a few things that would not look well in this book and he finally spoke in English when we called the escort to get what information we could from him. He asked after some friends he had made at Columbia College, New York City, where he had been educated. He told us that just before the war broke out he had been called back to Germany supposedly to attend a military vet as he was still subject to military service. He had no idea, he said, that he was going to be sent to war and he had been drugged and sent into battle forced on by officers in the rear. After we had pumped him dry he was handed over together with fourteen other prisoners who were taken the same night and sent to the cage four miles to the rear. On the way to the cage he complained to a soldier in the guard accompanying the prisoners of the difficulty of marching through the mud which was very deep. The guard told him he should be thankful that he was not in his, the guard's, place as he had to walk back again. I should have stated before that I cut off the buttons from the officer's uniform when he died and kept them together with his field glasses as souvenirs. I have them still as no one has claimed them. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. A Machine Gunners Story by Machine Gunner George Eckert, No. 165688, First Machine Gun Battalion, First Division, AEF I enlisted in the service of my country April 6, 1917, when we declared war on Germany. I was sent to Fort Douglas, Arizona, in the same month, put in the 18th Infantry Regular Army. On June 4, 1917, we got orders to pack up and leave for another camp, and one night when our train came to a halt, I got up from bed and said to the boys, boys, we're in Hoboken, and we all knew then where we were going. We got on the transports the same night, about eleven o'clock. There were a lot of sad faces watching their dear boys going over there to fight to make the world safe for democracy. We sailed away from dear old America June 14, 1917. When we passed the Statue of Liberty, we watched her holding the light of freedom and strained our eyes as our transport moved out into the ocean for a last look at her, wondering if we would ever see that dear old Statue of Liberty again. We had a pleasant fourteen-day trip across the ocean, and one bright morning we saw land. All the boys shouted, France, we have come to you. Four hours later we were beside our dock and got off the boats. All the French people kissed us and were glad to see America come to help her sister Republic. The French people shouted, Vive la America. We shouted back, Vive la France. We had a big reception and the peasants took us around and showed us the villages. We did not stay there long, but moved toward the front where we could hear the thundering of the artillery barrages. We had two months of strenuous training with the French Blue Devils. After completing our training period we got orders that we were going to go to the front. One day before we left to undertake the biggest job in the world, our general, General Bullard, held an inspection and gave us a talk. He said, boys, you are going to tackle a real job tomorrow and show the Huns what kind of stuff the Yanks are made of. All of the boys yelled, we are with you, General, until the end. We are going to give them hell, and we won't go back until it's over, over here. The next day we were ready to move to the front. The Colonel gave the command and we marched off. We had to walk fifty miles. As we came nearer and nearer to the front, the guns were roaring and machine guns rattled away like fire. The First Division, consisting of the 18th Infantry, 26th Infantry, 16th and 18th Infantry, started to sing, Hail, Hail, the Gangs All Here. At last we arrived at the front. Our French comrades hailed us and were surprised and overjoyed to see the Yanks coming to relieve them and give them a rest. Company after company moved in and relieved the French Division, and as they moved out they bid us all the luck in the world. This front was the Lorraine Front, Looneville Sector. The next day, October 14, 1917, our artillery fired the first shells into the German trenches. The Germans got kind of restless and wondered who was facing them. They sent out a patrolling party to gather information. But we boys were a little too wise and our patrol party captured this German party and brought them in. When they came in our trenches they asked us who we were. I spoke up and said we are Americans, and the German officer who spoke a little English said no, no, you are not an American. You are English in American uniforms. But they soon found out that we were Americans and we did treat them rough. I was now transferred to a machine gun company and was on duty one night about 11.30. It was very cold. My loader Frank Martin and I were talking quietly about our dear homes across the sea. Suddenly the German machine guns opened up and we ducked down in our own gun emplacement and could hear the bullets hissing over our heads. Then it was silent again. We knew the Huns were getting restless so our signal captain sent up a very light which lights up no man's land. And we saw about 5,000 Prussian guards coming at us with bayonets fixed. I held fast to my trigger waiting for orders. The Lieutenant came to me and said George don't get nervous, we are going to get them in a trap. And I said Lieutenant do you think I will ever see the Statue of Liberty again? He said cheer up George, I will send the order soon. So they fired another very light and there they were 100 yards from where I was stationed. All was quiet. We kept still as mice. Then suddenly a big red rocket went up which called for an artillery barrage. And I heard the shells of our artillery firing behind the Germans so they could not go back to their own lines. This was followed by two red rockets meaning direct fire from our own machine guns. And then I yelled here's where the suicide club shines and opened up. We gave them all the presents they wanted. My machine gun was red hot and my hands were burning but I didn't mind that. We were going to get them and give them what they deserved. We gave them sweeping fire and mowed them down like grass. Daylight came and there were the Prussian guards in big piles, dead and wounded. We certainly did catch them in a trap. That morning I went to the dugout and we boys sat around on bundles of straw and sang some songs and told stories and jokes. When the mailman would come around with the letters from home we would gather around him and listen for our names to be called. The boys that got letters from their dear mothers had smiles on their faces and were happy knowing their mothers were thinking of them. And those that didn't get letters were sad and disgusted and would have tears rolling down their cheeks. We stayed on that front two months. Christmas was on its way and we went back for a rest. At Christmas time all the boys gave ten francs, two dollars US money, to give the little children of France a real American Christmas. After six days of preparation we went to the Salvation Army hut and had a big entertainment. Elsie Janus was the chief entertainer. After the entertainment was over we all returned to bed. The next day the church bells rang out and the little children ran about wild with joy. The Yankee soldiers gave the children candy, cakes, pies and other little presents and they could not get over it as they never had a Christmas like that before. The simple pathos of this story so appealed to me that knowing no words of mine could so vividly depict the feelings of this hero I have given it to the readers of the book Without Revision. I simply desire to add that the action which he describes in the above story was the first of the Great War participated in by American troops. Before proceeding with my second story I wish to state that Cantigny Village was the first town ever captured by the American troops in this war and also the first battle we ever had. My division, the first known all over France as the Black Jack division, was named after General Black Jack Pershing. After leaving Lorraine Front and spending Christmas behind the lines we were ordered to a more active front in Picardie where some of the biggest battles have taken place during this Great War. We relieved the second French colonial division and took over their sector. We faced the town Cantigny which is situated 20 miles northwest of Mont-Digier. This town was hard to take as there were two Prussian guard divisions against one Yankee division. Our general said boys we are going to take that town and we will take it inside of 72 hours. Us boys all felt proud and were ready to go over the top any time the order came. Jimmy Doyle, the loader on my machine gun, was the youngest boy in the battalion and he was kind of nervous when he knew we were going over the top in 72 hours. He sat down in the dugout writing a letter to his dear mother with the shells and shrapnel going over our heads. He expected a letter from his mother for three months but never received it. So little Jimmy put in his letter, mother I am writing you this letter and it may be the last as I am going over the top for the first time and I am going to do my bit even if I am only 17 years old. I wrote you 10 letters and you have not written me one so mother dear please write your little Jimmy a letter. Goodbye and God bless you Jimmy. The 72 hours had come and it was growing dark. We had extra ammunition stacked beside our machine gun ready to open fire on the Huns. Little Jimmy worked hard stacking up the ammunition. The infantry was standing too waiting for the word. Everything was quiet. We had five minutes to think of our people back home. Little Jimmy said to me, George you are one of my best friends. I am a kid but if I get killed tell my mother I died for her and the stars and stripes. The time had come and the French tanks had started their engines. The red rocket went up. Our artillery laid down their barrage and we opened rapid fire with our machine guns. Little Jimmy was feeding the gun like a veteran. Shells were whistling all around us. The captains of all infantry companies yelled over the top with the best of luck and give them hell, up an atom boys. And when they went over the boys yelled and cheered rushing onward to the Hun trenches. Remember the Lusitania, remember the Antilles, remember the US, remember dear President Wilson and the stars and stripes. They kept on gaining, facing death and danger. We followed them up with our machine guns. The Huns started with their artillery. They thought they could stop us but they couldn't. We always had our fighting spirit with us. The German Prussian guards came over to meet us. Our infantry went at them facing them. Some yelled, Comrade, but that didn't go with us. We gave them the cold steel instead. We had five hundred yards to go to before we could take continue. Little Jimmy Doyle was working hard at the gun and he would say, I wonder if my mother is thinking of me. We kept moving our gun and giving them all they wanted. All of a sudden Little Jimmy fell with a Hun machine gun bullet through his head. The blood was pouring down his cheek. I went to him, gave him my first aid packet with bandages, put it around his head, but in vain. He was taking his last breath. He said, George, goodbye, I knew this was my day. He wanted to say a few more words but could not. He lay still without breathing. He was dead and he died with a smile on his lips. The poor lad was always happy and had a smile for whoever he met. Little Jimmy died for his country and died like a man. After taking Jimmy away, I ran back to my machine gun. The Prussians were coming over, driving back the infantry. They overpowered us, but the machine gunners all said, we're going to hold this line until the infantry gets reinforcements. We ate machine gunners, we're checking the Germans finally. Now and then we stopped firing. Then the Huns would rush at us, thinking that they had killed us, but we were very much alive and as soon as they advanced, a hundred yards or so, we would open up our machine guns again and give them hell. Four of the machine gunners were killed and it was up to the remaining four to hold them back until the infantry came. Our ammunition was getting low and I was shot through my leg by a high explosive shrapnel, but I kept on with my machine gun until our infantry came up with the reinforcements and went over with a yell and chased the Huns back and captured Cantini. We got that town in two and a half hours. My leg was bleeding and I had an awful pain, but I stuck to it. We went into the Hun trenches, which we had captured and there I was treated by the Red Cross dressing station and then we went in and brought out the German prisoners who were hiding in the dugouts and cellars of the town. Then the Germans who were driven back to their reserve trenches wanted to get square on us and fired over the poisonous gas. We got the signal and put our masks on and kept them on for 72 hours. Mine was an old mask and it began to leak until suddenly I fell and I was unconscious for 24 hours. When I awoke I was in the hospital in a nice white bed such as I had not been in for ten months. Oh, didn't I sleep? They couldn't get me up for anything. I was nursed back to health and when I went back to the front they had a great surprise for me. I was summoned to General Headquarters and there I was awarded the French War Cross or Croix de Guerre for heroism during the Battle of Cantigny. We all sang the Song of Songs over there by the Yankee doodle boy George M. Cohen. We used this song all the time when we would march into battle and sang it again when we came out victorious. Then I was sent home to dear America and my people were more than pleased to see me march in a hero from over there. Then they had me talking for the Knights of Columbus Drive, Liberty Loan, also the United War work campaign. The American people may well be proud when their sons and sweethearts come marching home victorious as they all fought well to make the world safe and a decent place to live in. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Retreat from Mons by Sergeant T. S. Grundy. I was one of the first 100,000 men of British expeditionary force sent to Belgium in August 1914. The Great Retreat from Mons and the different battles, rearguard actions, that took place afterward were some of the worst and fiercest actions that the British forces ever fought. Of course, we know that not so many guns were used and nothing like the barrage that is put down nowadays, but it was hard and severe fighting with hardships that are no longer necessary today. The Lewis machine gun and the new types today were not known then. We went to the field with the old maxim type used in previous warfare. Such was the equipment of the first 100,000 men of British expeditionary forces. Our forces were spread out on a 22-mile front. Just a mere handful of men that, without a doubt, saved Europe from Prussian rule, although thousands do not realize this. If the enemy had known of the weakness of our forces, he would have walked across Belgium and France. However, the enemy underestimated our forces and the stubborn and determined fight of what the Kaiser called England's contemptible little army saved the situation. At Mons it was a case of if the enemy broke through the line there were no reserves to bring up, so officer and man alike we stood to the last. When the enemy broke through in certain parts of the lines, then came the hard fighting. Fritz would break through on the left flank and endeavour to cut us off. Then came the time man after man went down and slowly we had to retreat assisted by cavalry against literally speaking hordes and hordes of Germany's best soldiers. Some companies were not so fortunate being completely surrounded and annihilated or taken prisoners, very few escaping to tell the tale and those that escaped to the woods had no rations and lived like savages on anything that could be found. Unfortunately not many of these men are alive today being afterward captured by the enemy and killed by ill treatment in internment camps or starved to death in the woods. It was when the retreat was looking very serious and no reserves forthcoming that the most wonderful and thrilling incidents of the war occurred and this is vouched for by all who were there. When comrades were falling, one after the other and the Germans advancing in great masses angels appeared from the skies and seemed to stop the approach of the enemy. They appeared to fall back temporarily in sheer disorder. This was only a temporary collapse but it gave time for better preparations on our part and this is what saved us from being wiped out as reserves were forthcoming afterward. An incident of the enemy's method of warfare by unscrupulous means came to my notice. We would not have lost half of the men we did at Mons if it had not been for this. It was the fault of a French colonel who was under the influence of his wife, a German woman, a spy of the German Empire and she so used her influence over her husband that he kept back two or three regiments of reserves for three days under the pretext of resting them when they might have been up and probably saved the situation. This colonel was afterward court-martialed in shot, Lord Kitchener coming from England to investigate this. Our enemy as we have seen all through the war has used these unscrupulous methods. We lost 60,000 out of 100,000 first BEF. Over half our army was taken prisoners, killed and wounded. Out of my battalion there were 28 survivors, I being one of them. After Mons came the great battle of Ypres in which our regiment took part. Things were nearly always very brisk in this sector of the line. I remember one particular night my chum and I were out on listening-posts when my chum thought he saw the enemy advancing. I looked and could not see them. He started making a row and I warned him to be quiet, but he didn't heed me when suddenly he went down mortally wounded. I dived to the ground and in diving my hands came in contact with a man who had probably been dead some days. This was not an unusual occurrence. About September 15th when we were up in Ypres again there was a party of us who went on a bombing raid one night. Nearly every night a bombing party went out into no man's land. At this particular time however we were returning from a bombing raid perhaps without as much caution as usual when a shell burst right among us killing every man except myself and a chum who was badly wounded. I however found I had escaped with but a few scratches and taking along my chum who had a bad wound in the leg managed after much trouble to return to our lines. My chum not being able to walk made it difficult for me. I had to carry him back and to look out for whiz bangs and avoid tumbling into shell holes. The weather at this time of the year was very bad. Raw and cold weather up to our knees and mud and water stuck in the trenches day after day and week after week. Such is trench life in wintertime. But when springtime came again then things started to liven up. Fritz was at it again. Our battalion was up at Ypres salient where a terrific artillery duel was being put up at the time. Shells were dropping all around star shells illuminated the skies and the word was passed around for getting ready to go over the top. It was dawn and the rum ration having been handed around the order was given and over we went. Some were just up and over and down they went. I remember our captain was one of the first to fall. His words as he fell were carry on boys don't mind me and the boys carried on. All I could see before me was blood. It seemed as if I had no other object in mind but to kill. Such were my feelings as we went over. We hadn't advanced above 300 yards when a bullet whizzed too close for my liking and turning my head I saw my chum fall and dozens of others but our orders were carry on and get our objective. Next our first lieutenant fell and mustering us together our remaining lieutenant a mere youth of 18 years and a small handful of men reached our position not without severe loss of life. I remember one little incident a German officer lying severely wounded called in almost perfect English for a drink. One of the boys probably a little more human than some of us went to give him a drink out of his water bottle. Then the Prussian officer drew his revolver and shot this boy. Those who witnessed the incident I being among them made short work of the Prussian beast but this incident goes to show the Prussians hate of his enemy. The Saxon troops are the most civilized of the bunch an incident of just the opposite I witnessed down at the Somme. A wounded German soldier called for water to drink and one of our Tommy's kind heartedly went and gave it to him. They conversed for a minute or two the German spoke in broken English. He said to the Tommy as he undid his tunic and displayed a Salvation Army jersey I am a Salvationist and the British Tommy replying said so am I. They shook hands and the German fell back dead. Never shall I forget the sights that I have seen in the trenches we took from the botches. I remember one particular trench we took we found a young girl about nineteen years of age who had one of her eyes taken out an ear cut off and her right breast severed. This was not an isolated case of the botches villainy. I personally witnessed in villages in France and Belgium the bodies of old men that had been crucified or slowly tortured to death. I have seen a little baby bayoneted to a door post and the bayonet left sticking in the body. It was down at loose that I was gassed. I have a recollection of the gas coming over and was unconscious for twenty-four hours and had oxygen pumped into me. When I returned to consciousness I found myself in a hospital with a Red Cross nurse bending over me. Another sector of the line I was in was at Cambrai after my recovery from the hospital. Here we caught it pretty rough. It was the time that British divisions were being drafted off to Italy that things were lively. Several battalions were being marched off to Italy when frits broke through part of our line down south and advanced in mass formation. Then we were ordered to retreat. It was some retreat. Guns were left, ammunition dumps not blown up and we retreated about thirty miles. Our losses there were great. However, in small counterattacks and skirmishes which our battalion took part in we captured quite a few prisoners. I was quite surprised to notice how young some of these German soldiers seemed not more than seventeen years of age. In the early part of 1918 I was up in Ypres again where one night we had after severe fighting recaptured a few hundred yards. I was just standing around in the captured trenches when a shell burst and a piece of shrapnel caught me. Down I went to awake once more in a hospital where the boys were all content and happy in spite of wounds. So was I, especially when I heard I was for blighty once again. End of Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of What the Boys Did Over There by Henry Fox This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. My service in Flanders by Sergeant Alexander Gibb No. 444476 Company A 26th Battalion New Brunswick Regiment Canadian Infantry In the month of October 1914 the second Canadian division was being formed. I being too young at the time could not enlist but in the month of February 1915 I did enlist with the 55th Battalion. The commander of that battalion was Lieutenant Colonel Kirk Patrick. It was in the month of March of the same year that our regiment went into camp at Sussex NB. Every day of our life in camp was work, day and night, but of course our battalion found time for their sports, even if we did have to work very hard during the day. In the beginning of June of that year there was a call came to our regiment for volunteers to go overseas with the 26th Battalion, which is now known as the famous Fighting 26th. At that time under command of Lieutenant Colonel McAveydie better known as Colonel Jim. Of course I was eager to get over and do my bit. I was one of the many who volunteered. It was on the most unlucky day of that month, June 13, 1915 that the 26th sailed on the Transport Caledonian for an unknown port in England. As the transport moved from the pier amid cheering crowds the boys were happy and gay. Our voyage across the pond was uneventful, only we were all given lifebelts which we had to wear all the time of our trip, and of course we had our lifeboat drill which took place in the morning after our physical training. The afternoon was spent in sports of all kinds, boxing, running, etc. We did not come in contact with any U-boats and I might say we had very little seasickness on board. Our trip of nine days was the most enjoyable trip I have ever had on the water. When we were a few miles from our landing place away off in the distance we could see two destroyers coming toward us. At first we thought they were fritzies but as they came nearer we found them to be British destroyers coming to escort us into the harbour at Southampton. On arriving at that port amid cheering crowds we disembarked for our training camp in England. We marched to the station and boarded the train. At every step we made the English people would give us hot tea, cake and fruit and we sure did enjoy it. We arrived in the city of Folkstone and from there marched to the training camp known as West Sandling Camp. We were tired out from our long train journey and had a quiet repose in our new home. Our training started in real earnest there. A lot of it was quite new to us such as musketry, bayonet fighting, trench warfare, bombing, etc. After two months of hard work and long marches the word came at last for us to show the Huns what we were made of. We received orders for parade in full marching order then we marched about five miles to the transport which was waiting for us at Folkstone. I might say that was in the month of September 1915. Our voyage across the channel was very rough but of course we did not mind it. We arrived in the city of Bologne on the coast of France and marched from there to a rest camp staying there for three days. Once more we got orders to move on. We marched about forty or forty-five miles to Saint-Omer then on to a rest camp behind the lines at Kimmel Hill which is in Flanders. After a brief rest our battalion went into the front line at the above-mentioned place. As we were nearing the front lines we could hear the big guns and shells bursting overhead also the whistling of bullets. Of course I naturally started ducking my head and I have been ducking ever since. In the week of the 12th of October our battalion was in the front line in the P.E.O. trenches at Kimmel and on that day Fritzy sprung a mine in No Man's Land which formed a big crater. On the morning of the 13th we got orders that we were to take that crater. The time set for going over the top was two a.m. and every man was ready and eager to show what he was made of. To the minute a blast of the whistle came and we were over. Fritzy saw us and he also came over. Then a hand-to-hand fight started. I came in contact with a big hun and of course we went to it. Before many seconds had passed I got his bayonet over the bridge of the nose but it did not knock me out and a short time after I got him. My first hun. My but I was a proud boy. I put my hand to my face and it became covered with blood so I started back to the trench to get my wound dressed. On arriving at my battalion dressing station the doctors started operations. He put four stitches in my nose and then I was sent back to a field hospital for further treatment. While at the hospital I heard that our battalion had taken the crater and covered itself with glory but our losses were heavy. It was during that fight that my regiment made itself famous. After two weeks in the hospital I was sent back to my regiment which was in a rest camp. I carried back with me two lovely black eyes from the effect of the wound. Once more we moved into the trenches under a heavy downpour of rain. The winter had just set in. It was cold and damp underfoot and the water reached up to our knees. During our stay in the line at that time I recall an incident which happened. I was sitting in a dugout having a bite to eat with some of my pals and enjoying the meal quite well. Something had to spoil our lunch, of course. A shell came over and burst on top of the dugout and buried us for about four or five hours. We were in darkness, then we were dug out and were none the worse from our little experience.