HISTORY
OF THE SEVENTY SEVENTH DIVISION
Phase 2
Artillery
The infantry when
it moved from Camp Upton during the first weeks of April
left behind it a great camp area and a despondent brigade
of artillery. A few days before leaving and even on the
day of departure requests for men by hundreds were
received at artillery headquarters to complete infantry
units.
Infantry, engineers
and machine-gunners bad gone and yet no orders came for
the artillery. The emptiness of the streets and the
desertion of the barracks on the days following were no
consolation for those who felt that the war would surely
be finished before they arrived overseas
Then as suddenly as
bad been the depletion came new arrivals, big sandy raw
boned men from the west and northwest. The atmosphere
became more cheerful as shipments of equipment marked,
"Rush, for 152d Brigade Field Artillery" began
to arrive and dejection gave way to suppressed
excitement.
On Sunday night,
April 21st, two regiments, the 304th Field Artillery, the
306tb Field Artillery and Brigade Headquarters followed
the night march of the infantry over muddy roads to a
darkened station. By daylight all trains were moving. The
305th Field Artillery and the 302d Trench Mortar Battery
took other boats some days later. By early forenoon,
ferries from Brooklyn were taking the last of the
departing troops around the Battery and across to the
great German piers.
New York looked
magnificent that day. The clean salt air and the
brilliancy of the lower city were contagious. As one
boatload after another passed under Brooklyn Bridge, the
men gave a big spontaneous cheer that swelled out over
the water and echoed like a gun at sea. The big hull of
the Leviathan, which was to carry the two regiments and
other troops overseas on this trip, finally loomed far
out in the stream beyond its fellows.
All that day and
part of the next, troops were filed in through the troop
gangway. It seemed to be an endless chain, which the ship
devoured. Uniformed women of the Red Cross worked
incessantly along this line giving out sandwiches,
doughnuts and cigarettes. When aboard the men were sent
at once to their sleeping quarters.
The bunks were of
canvas set in iron frames. They extended tier on tier,
for the most part on lower decks, but some were located
in salons that had previously been stripped of any
pretense of finery. On this trip, the Leviathan carried
fifteen thousand souls, ten thousand of whom were
soldiers and the balance the crew and naval replacements
for the European fleet.
That night
Manhattan Island, across the Hudson, as seen from the
deck of the Leviathan seemed strangely distant and
detached. Its beauty was visionary and far off. The low
wharves were shrouded and shadowy under their bluish
arc-light glare. Many arcs bung about the sides of the
Leviathan and searchlights played on it from either
neighboring dock.
On Wednesday, April
24th, some time between midnight and dawn this great ship
nosed out and departed. Not a light was showing. Within
each door that led to the decks, guards were posted, and
only a few bluejackets strolled casually about.
The next few days
were without incident. Schedules were arranged for
physical exercise and for daily inspection. The health of
the men was carefully guarded while they were living
under these crowded conditions. Daily abandon ship drills
were held and it became customary to hear the shrill
startling call of the ship's bugler sounded at double
time.
The sixth day out,
five torpedo boat destroyers steamed alongside as escort.
These lively little sea-dogs circled and cavorted about
as if teasing their big charge. The Leviathan traveled
free from the usual convoy as she raced along her zigzag
course, depending more on her speed than her armament.
On the morning of
May 2d, the harbor of Brest was reached. The old citadel
and the city itself were both beautiful from the
waterfront. High over the town, which sloped upward as it
extended inland, was a big observation balloon.
The ship took a
position off shore near the other camouflaged steamers
and French gunboats. After a wait of several hours a
cutter bringing French Naval officers came up and
following was a hospital boat. This was the first visit
the big German prize had made in French waters.
British lighters in
the early afternoon took the troops ashore by regiment.
The Britishers had certain conceptions of loading men
that would have put to shame a subway guard on the Bronx
Express. The bands were there and played artillery airs.
Everyone was in high spirits. On landing, the men climbed
up the stone quay and formed in the railroad yards.
This was really the
theater of war. The big sausage balloon that swayed on
its cable high above the city had some vague connection
with the front; just what the relation was no one could
exactly ascertain. Many trucks were about, some of which
carried healthy looking German prisoners. The prisoners
were loading flour under the direction of an antiquated
French guard who strode about with fixed bayonet. He was
as lean as his charges were fat.
The troops moved
out quickly, and soon the columns were winding their way
through the narrow streets and upward to the higher
country. The march was a matter of only a few kilometers,
but because of the recent confinement aboard ship, it was
harder than a normal march of three times the distance.
PONTENAZIAN
BARRACKS
The first regiment
that passed through the big stone port of Pontenazian
Barracks was the 304th Field Artillery, led by Colonel
Raymond W. Briggs. The 306th Field Artillery followed
immediately led by Colonel L. S. Miller.
Pontenazian is an
old Napoleonic garrison whose past dates vaguely back to
its occupancy as a monastery, and at one time as a
prison. It is a great parade ground on one side of which
is a line of low stone barracks. A street of khaki tents
stood along an adjoining side, evidence of the presence
of American troops. The place was not without attraction.
Little fruit trees blossomed within the high stone walls,
and the quaint old barracks were weathered old relics of
an earlier age. These buildings were damp and gloomy
inside. On rainy nights more than one buck private
remarked on the beauty of the place as he dented a stone
wall in a vain attempt to land a misshapen shoe on one
of the big rats that browsed about the place. It was
rumored that Napoleon's ghost clad in khaki walked about
at night.
The first days here
were devoted to drills and athletics. No officers or men
were permitted in Brest except on official business, but
the batteries were occasionally marched out through the
country. These sight seeing marches frequently led quite
near the city. The Bretons in their quaint and immaculate
dress, and the farms and homes of these interesting
people, were incidents of these trips. Small boys as
always took great interest in these big soldiers. Some
favored youngster would be permitted to carry a soldier's
rifle, and would proudly stride along trying to keep pace
under the added weight.
The children did
not ask for money but incessantly begged, " Avez
vous un cigarette," which soon changed to the
English, "Cigarette for papa," emphasized with
outstretched hand.
The 305th Field
Artillery and 302d Trench Mortar Battery reached Brest,
Saturday, May 4th, on the Von Steuben and a Northern
Pacific mail boat converted. They did not debark until
Monday, May 6th, at which time the other regiments were
preparing to entrain for "somewhere."
This first railroad
trip in France, the first of the "somewhere"
trips, unfolded itself on the map after two days into a
coastal trip down through Nantes, La Rochelle and
Bordeaux. These big army centers were at that time in
process of development. There was much speculation as to
the next destination. When the regulation trains of 51
cars pulled in and it was seen that practically everyone
would ride " 3me classe " those who had
expected box cars were agreeably surprised.
Equipment, men and
corned willie were piled aboard in short time, and the
small engine (then and there dubbed "peanut
roaster") gave a shrill toot and began to move. The
French conduc-tors wore little flat peaked caps and black
coats that looked like Prince Alberts gone shabby.
Everyone who had a map of France began to brush up on his
geography.
The first of the
trains passed through Bordeaux on the evening of the
second day and the troops detrained twelve miles beyond
at Bonneau, the rail-head for Souge, to which troops,
guns and supplies were shipped for Camp de Souge.
CAMP DE SOUGE
Camp de Souge to
the incoming artillerymen was like entering a circus,
"The greatest show on earth." The main entrance
was an elaborate archway on which was surmounted a
crowing chanticleer. Flanking this were the booths and
shows of a minor Coney Island; a show at which the
performers of the big show inside became the audience.
After drill hours the little rows of cafes and stands
swarmed with soldiers. Cheese, fruits, nuts, silk
creations, pipes and vin-rouge were sold to the "bon
Americaine. " Flaring pictures of American movie
stars were posted about and below them was the caption in
French.
Within the gate was
a long street of barracks extending back from the gate as
far as the eye could see. Near the gate stood the small
camp hospital and a set of barracks, which became the
quarters of the Brigade Commander, General Rees, and the
officers of the three regiments. Schools were at the
opposite end of camp. In this way everyone had an equal
chance of getting to class on time, except the favored
few who rode in automobiles.
Pine trees shaded
this end of camp. A few scrubby trees were scattered down
the line of the men's quarters, and batteries vied with
their neighbors in decorating the plots around these
trees.
Out on the main street, beyond
the point where any pretension to neatness was made, stood the
prisoners-of-war cage and the Coolie camp. Here among the brush and sand
was the great clown department of this circus. The Coolies when the
brigade arrived in camp seemed merely Chinamen who stole other people's
clothes, and with whom it was possible to make strange deals for
worthless trinkets. Later they became the chief source of amusement in camp. It was not an
uncommon sight to see one of these men, with a shovel in
one hand, an umbrella in the other, trying to make a
half-hour's job last all day. It became a saying around
camp that they got more rest out of a shovel than a
soldier gets out of a feather bed. They wore all manner
of dress, acquired from French soldiers, Americans and
the Far East. Several of the Coolies had hand-made box
fiddles which they would stroke with a rude bow while
mooning along the camp streets.
The first days of
rest soon passed and the brigade, officers and men,
plunged into training and into intimate contact with the
sands of Souge. French 75's were on hand and the officers
of the " 75 " regiments began their course by
forming into gun squads and doing the work of gun crews.
The French equivalent to good old American nomenclature
was learned. A materiel expert pointed out in principle
the secret of the 75's recoil system; the exact
construction of which is a carefully guarded secret even
to French officers.
The men shortly
began their gun drills and other artillery instruction
under their very much over-worked battery officers, who
at the same time were completing their own instruction in
these subjects. The camp swarmed with industry. Wireless
men put up portable field sets, seemingly under the
parentage of the high camp set. Telephone men laid and
wound up again miles of field telephone lines, and
established dugout centrals, Teams of men with blinker
lights got out opposite one mother and balefully winked
out messages sometimes unprintable and of an eloquence
not in keeping with the difficulties of learning.
Of all these
specialists the panel men were most nimble. With big
white panels similar to bed sheets they jigged a war
dance, each trick of which ended with a low salaam
disclosing a new white hieroglyphic marvelously spread
out on the ground before them.
All this contagious
energy affected the Coolies not one whit. The only time
they moved faster than a shuffling walk was when aboard
one of the many trucks that whizzed through camp. Then it
was the delight of the driver not to let them off, but to
speed up while a very much frightened Chinese flapped
from the tail-gate like an old shirt blown by the wind.
The Coolies showed greatest excitement when they fought
and scratched and screamed for a place in a truck. They
scrambled aboard from all directions like Malay pirates
boarding a prize, all screaming and pushing for favored
places.
Quite different
from their Coolie neighbors were the suave little
Anamites, French Territorials, who guarded the prisoners.
These yellow men wore the Chasseurs' cap and carried
their rifle with the ease of long practice.
The 306th was not
as favored as the light regiments. No "155"
howitzers were available for them. No horses had arrived
for anyone. The officers spent long hours out on a
miniature field in an exalted sort of terrain board
exercise, computing the technical data required to land
shots on the houses, woods and hills represented in
miniature. The gun crews had drills, and developed into
what they later dubbed "bed-post artillery."
They found that by aligning two cots in proper relation
to one another and placing a log across one, it was
possible to conduct a gun drill.
The firing of the
75's commenced two weeks after the preliminary training.
Officers had learned the firing methods of position
warfare, and now knew in computing firing data that even
barometric pressure and temperature of the powder must be
considered. These and other computations were worked out
in the lecture rooms. Officers were taught to sense shots
and adjust fire indoors on terrain boards over which a
dexterous instructor belabored with a little wire scale
that, when held properly, displayed small black or white
pills representing shell or shrapnel bursts.
The range was as
flat as a tabletop. From one of the stilt like
observatories that were located at intervals around half
of its circumference it seemed to stretch for miles, a
morass of swamp and underbrush broken by several raised
roads. In the center of the range was an old stone
building and a small clump of trees. The ruins of this
gave up a yellow dust whenever a direct hit was
registered on it. Beyond 1,500 meters were many trench
parapets of diagonal, triangular and square pattern. A
few trees in isolated loneliness stood out against the
sky line. At 5,000 and 6,000 meters stood a few lone
barns, practically intact.
Close up to the
range grew a dense pine forest. On several hot dry days,
brush caught fire from bursting shell, and twice the
entire brigade fought the fire.
Daily from seven
until noon the long line of batteries pounded out
ammunition at a lavish rate. The gun crews gained in
proficiency; the officers mastered the increasingly
complex firing problems; and the Ammunition Train which
had been drilling and learning about motor transport got
practical work in supplying ammunition. The trench mortar
battery had a separate range off to one side that was as
desolate as No Man's Land. From a dug-in position in
which the crews served the pieces like moles, these big
mortars sent forth a projectile that when landing shook
the earth.
The great day
finally came when the 306th got their guns. The big
lumbering howitzers bowled into camp behind trucks,
Saturday afternoon, June 8th. Monday morning, a hot drill
competition began. Wednesday morning, this regiment began
its belated firing schedule, two days after they first
handled the weapon. This achievement developed a spirit
that later enabled the regiment to score a reputation for
accurate firing at the front, hard to excel.
Horses did not
begin to arrive until May 28th, and then began a vital
part of the training of field artillerymen. The training
of drivers is a slow process. Bright men may quickly
learn the rudiments of gunnery, but the care and proper
handling of horses comes only with time. The 304th and
306th had been organized as motor regiments and in
consequence only a few Western replacements had any
knowledge of horses. Taxi drivers must now become
horsemen. Perhaps the French horses did not know New York
English-perhaps New York men did not know cheyaux French;
certainly at times the two did not co-ordinate. More than
one man got kicked for his solicitations or, when
mounted, slipped, clawing the air, to the sands of Souge.
Evidences were in
the air of a rushed completion of the course. Other
brigades were billeted in nearby towns. Troops had been
coming to France more rapidly than training camps could
accommodate them. Plans were under way for a big barrage
in which every gun in the brigade would fire at once.
It happened at
one-thirty, on a perfect afternoon. All 75's had taken
position along the edge of the range. The howitzers were
near a town in the rear. A trench line had been laid out
in white strips of muslin. The barrage started in full
force after twenty seconds, and evenly spaced bursts
could be seen along the entire objective. Then overhead,
sliding through the air with a sound like cloth being
slowly ripped, came the 155's. The points that were
designated as com-munication trenches were being reduced.
The thing, the whole thing, was seen to be no longer
playing on the same spot, but slowly becoming more
distant. The fire of the heavies was lifted to more
distant targets. Within a half-hour, the boiling had
become a simmer and ceased. The brigade's first barrage
was a success.
Later came the night firing.
Batteries were placed in position at dusk, and as night came on, the gun
crews slept, leaving only the guards over the guns. At an unknown hour,
the enemy would attack. It was after midnight when the signal for the
barrage came, a flash from a distant observatory. The sentry immediately
placed the first round in the gun, which as in actual combat was laid,
and pulled the lanyard. No further call was necessary. The crew jumped
to their positions and the bar-rage was fired as charted
on their gun shield.
On the Fourth of
July, after the completion of the course (except for some
belated firing by the howitzers), the brigade paraded in
Bordeaux with guns and horses. En route to Bordeaux, the
long rumbling, clanking column of guns and caissons
extended from one town to the next. This was the greatest
assemblage of artil-lery that most officers and men in it
had seen, and they were proud of themselves. Two
regiments of the 4tb Field Artillery Brigade also were to
parade.
Bordeaux was in
gala dress. It was celebrating a holiday, as only the
French know how. The long column moved through the city,
escorted by French infantry. The streets and balconies
were thronged, and as the troops passed, they were
showered with flowers. The column, led by General Rees,
marched around the three sides of the beautiful Place des
la Quinconces, and out the city to the bivouac of the
preceding night. The selection of this square on the
riverfront afforded a magnificent background for the
impressive review. The line of French marines drawn up
around the square, and the richly decorated reviewing
stand where the Base Commander and French officers
reviewed, all combined to make an impression of Bordeaux
long to be remembered.
That afternoon the
brigade got orders to proceed by rail to Baccarat, where
they would enter the line for the first time.