Part 23 (1/2)

Overcoming all obstacles, he led the nation to victory. Down into the trenches he went, risking his life in the very front lines, that he might go among his soldiers to cheer them, and to let them know that he did not send his men where he would not go himself.

His behavior toward his would-be a.s.sa.s.sin, on February 19, 1919, was in itself a striking example of his daring, fighting spirit. As he rode home in his car from the Peace Conference, a man aimed and fired at him. Instantly Premier Clemenceau pushed open the door of his car, and, while the man continued firing, sprang upon him and grappled with him until the police reached the spot and seized the offender. Five bullets had been shot, only one of which lodged itself in the ”Old Tiger's” shoulder, and did no great harm.

Even those who opposed Clemenceau's political policies, strongly denounced the attempt upon his life, which had been made by a supposed Russian socialist. Thus this keen, jovial, loyal defender of liberty has come into the love of all his people.

An unnamed poilu sent Premier Clemenceau his Croix de Guerre, with the following letter:--

”You have not been given the Croix de Guerre. Here is mine, bearing only two stars. You merit two palms.”

Clemenceau is reported to have wept when he read the letter.

It gave him untold pleasure to serve as the nation's host during the visit of President Wilson--with whom, as representative of the great republic of the United States, he should further help to establish freedom throughout the world.

THE LOST BATTALION

On December 24, 1918, Lieutenant Colonel Charles W. Whittlesey of Pittsfield, Ma.s.sachusetts, was presented in the presence of 20,000 people on Boston Common by Major General Edwards with the congressional Medal of Honor, the highest tribute of valor the United States awards.

General Edwards presented the medal with these words: ”Your heroic act thrilled the entire American Expeditionary Force. It was a piece of stout-hearted work that reflected credit upon the part of yourself and of the men who were serving under you. It sustained the best traditions of American arms and valor. It is a great pleasure to have the presentation a.s.signed to me; I regard it as a sacred duty.”

Lieutenant Colonel Whittlesey smiled, and straightening up to his full stature of six feet and four inches, simply said, ”I thank you, General.”

The medal was given to reward his courage and determination when with his ”lost battalion” he was surrounded by the Germans in the Argonne forest.

On the fourth day of suffering in the cold and rain without food or blankets, when their ammunition was almost gone, an American who had been taken prisoner by the Germans was sent to Major Whittlesey--his promotion to Lieutenant Colonel came later--with a written message saying, ”Americans, you are surrounded on all sides. Surrender in the name of humanity. You will be well treated.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: Major General Clarence R. Edwards, former commander of the Twenty-sixth Division, pinning the congressional Medal of Honor on the breast of Lieutenant Colonel Charles W. Whittlesey.]

Major Whittlesey's exclamation when he had read the message was very brief and very forceful. It made the Germans understand without further parley that the Americans would never surrender. Major Whittlesey's men cheered his reply. Not one of them, cold, hungry, and almost exhausted, thought for a moment of surrendering.

Several days before on the morning of September 26, they had entered the Argonne forest, as a part of the line of American attack. At five-thirty in the morning, they had gone ”over the top” in a very heavy fog and behind their creeping barrage toward the German trenches.

They had to force their pa.s.sage through trees, shrubs, vines, and undergrowth grown all together so that it was almost impossible to advance and yet keep in touch with one another as they were ordered to do.

They reached the first German trenches which were named the _Ludwig_.

The Huns named their trenches so as to identify them readily in orders and upon the maps. These trenches were empty and they went on to a row of fancy concrete and iron dugouts, called by the Germans _Karlsruhe_, where they made their headquarters for the night.

The next day they met stubborn resistance from artillery and nests of machine guns, but they were able to make progress. In the first mile they pa.s.sed over twelve abandoned trench systems.

As they went forward they left men behind at regular intervals to keep them in touch with the regimental headquarters. Along this line of men, stationed near enough together to communicate easily with each other, orders, ammunition, and rations could be pa.s.sed.

The Germans knew their plan and as the battalion in the next days gradually got ahead of the main American line and out of touch with it on the flanks, the Huns pushed through, killed part of the men on the line of communication, and surrounded it, placing machine-gun nests in the rear.

When Major Whittlesey discovered their predicament, he directed his adjutant, Lieutenant Arthur McKeogh, with two men to make an attempt to get back to regimental headquarters and inform the colonel of the situation. Lieutenant McKeogh has told the story of his success. It is intensely exciting and makes one s.h.i.+ver at the horror of men, who have no personal enmity but might be friends, killing one another, and also makes one thrill with pride and admiration for the courage that dares even to death--not the quick death of the glorious charge, but the slow death of thirst, exhaustion, and fatigue. It shows us the worst and the best of war, and that the worst is too great a price to pay for the best. Lieutenant McKeogh writes in an article in _Collier's_:--

I took Munson and Herschowitz, and on hands and knees, with drawn revolvers, we began a detour of the nests. I was keeping my direction by compa.s.s every foot of the way. We had been going a scant ten minutes when shots from a light Maxim and rifles broke out in front. I thought we had been spotted, but after a wait, when we started again, we crawled within a few feet of the real target, now lifeless; he was in khaki and apparently he had strayed from his outfit. During our wait we saw a boche pa.s.sing through the trees. From the crackling of the brush there seemed to be others. With my lips I made the words ”Don't fire” to my runners, and then covered him, in case he saw us.

He went by. Realizing that we might have something of a time of it getting through, I motioned the runners to my side, read the messages to them in whispers and had them repeat. Then scooping out a little hole in the sodden leaves under my chin, I buried the messages, with several others from my map case, in fine pieces. Next I impressed upon them that our mission was not to fight unless forced to it, but to get back to the regiment, all of us, if possible; one, certainly.

Consequently we would separate when it became necessary.

Half an hour's traveling brought us to a broad clearing, cleaving the forest as far as I could see, on a true north-south line. Our direction was south, and the trail down the center of the clearing meant real progress, although I knew trails to be dangerous. We were not long upon it, when suddenly, out of a side trail, two German officers appeared, fifty yards ahead.