Part 3 (2/2)

Murphy. He was always faithful to whatever job he was detailed. When things were breaking badly he could always be depended on to cheer the men up by joking with them. He was an old fellow, bent and very gray, and he was physically unable to stand a lot of the racket, so I used to order him to stay behind with the kitchens when we went into action. One night, when the troops were moving up to the front line, I was standing by the side of the road checking off the platoons as they pa.s.sed. I thought I recognized one figure silhouetted against the gray sky. A moment later I was positive when I heard, ”Sure and if you feel that way about the Gairmans there're as good as beat.”

”Sergeant Murphy?”

”Sor-r?”

”What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay with the kitchens?”

”But I didn't be thinkin' the Major would be wantin' me to stay coffee coolin' all the time, so I just come up for a little visit with the men.”

The actual training consisted of practice with the hand grenade, rifle grenade, automatic rifle, rifle, and bayonet, and in trench digging. We had a certain amount of difficulty merging the troops in with the French. It was really very hard for men who did not speak the same language to get anywhere. In addition to this, the French temperament is so different from ours. They always felt that much could be learned by our troops watching theirs. But the soldier doesn't learn by watching.

His eye doesn't teach his muscles service. The way to train men is by physical exercise and explanation, not by simply watching others train.

At one time an artillery demonstration was scheduled. In it we were to see a rolling barrage ill.u.s.trated and also destructive fire. The men paid no attention at all to the bombardment. A company commander described to me how the men lay down and rested when they got to the maneuvers ground.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”CHOW”

Drawn by Captain W. J. Aylward, A. E. F., 1918]

”Whizz, Bill, hear that boy,” casually remarked one, when the first sh.e.l.l went over. ”What was it you said?”

An interesting sidelight on our military establishment is afforded by the fact that on our arrival in France there was no one with the command who had ever shot an automatic rifle, thrown a hand grenade, shot a rifle grenade, used a trench mortar or a .37-millimeter gun. These were all modern methods of waging warfare, yet none of our military had been trained to the least degree in any of them. To all of us they were absolutely new. The closest any of us came to any previous knowledge was from occasional pictures we had seen in the ill.u.s.trated reviews.

The Major of the French battalion with whom we trained was named Menacci. He was a Corsican by birth and looked like a stage pirate. He had a long black beard, sparkling black eyes, and a great appearance of ferocity, but was as gentle a soul as I have ever known. The topic that interested him above all others was the question of marriage. He was just like a young girl or boy and loved to be teased about it. A very fine fellow called Beauclare a.s.sisted him. Beauclare was from the north of France, tall and light-haired, and full of energy. He would strip off his coat, throw grenades with the men, and join in the exercises with as much enjoyment as anyone.

Curiously enough, the good fellows.h.i.+p of the French made things rather hard for many of us. The Cha.s.seurs were as kind as could be, and I never shall cease to respect the men with whom we trained, both as soldiers and gentlemen. We, however, were trying by incessant work to overcome the handicap of ignorance with which we had started, while they were out of the line for a rest and naturally wished to enjoy themselves, have parties, and relax.

At one time we tried attaching noncommissioned officers from the French units to ours. We hoped we could accomplish more this way. It did not work well, however, except in one instance, in which the American company became so fond of their French ”noncom.” that they did their level best to keep him with them for the rest of the war.

Toward the end of the training period, before the French left us, we had a sort of official party for both our troops and the French troops. It was held on our drill grounds and everyone had chow. The men and officers really enjoyed this affair. Later we gave another party for the French officers, who came and lunched with us. In the athletic sports that afternoon we experienced some difficulty with the middleweight boxing because Sergeant Ross, of B Company, was so much the best boxer that we could find no one to put up a good fight against him.

Among the other sports was a ”salad” race, in which all the combatants take off their shoes, piling them in the center of a circle. They line up around the edges and, at the word ”go,” run forward, try to find their own shoes, put them on, and lace them up. The man who first does this wins. Of course, the contestants throw each other's shoes around, which adds to the general mix-up, with the usual comic incidents. During the meet a lieutenant rushed up to me before the tug of war was to be staged, terribly excited, explaining that the best men in his company's team for a tug of war were just going on guard. I hurried off to try to change this and succeeded in mixing the guard up to such an extent that it took the better part of a day to get it straightened out again.

The French noncoms came over also and dined with our men, and one day all of us went over to the French village and saw their sports, mule races, pole vaulting, etc. Their officers' messes are very picturesque.

Every action is surrounded by custom. They rise in their snappy blue uniforms and sing songs of previous battles and victories, and drink toasts to long-dead leaders.

It was at this time we developed our policy concerning punishment. Under circ.u.mstances such as we were up against it was necessary to be severe, for the good of all. No outfit but had the same percentage of offenders; the draft took all alike, and any man who says he had no punishments in his command is either a fool or a liar. We always considered, however, that as far as possible, in minor offenses, it was better to avoid court-martial. The summary court if much used indicates a poor or lazy commander. Where possible we always handled situations as follows: Private Blank is ordered to take his full pack on maneuvers, and does not. His C. O. notices it at a halt. No charges are put in against him for disobedience of orders. His pack is opened then and there and nice, well-selected rocks are put in to take the place of the missing blankets and shelter half. He resumes the march with these on his back and has to keep up.

One cold day the buglers, who are supposed to be having a liaison drill while the rest of the brigade are maneuvering, decide to sneak off and build a fire. They are discovered, and then and there are ordered to climb to the top of a pine tree, where they are made to bugle in a cold wind during the rest of the morning.

These punishments serve two purposes--first, they check the offender, at the moment he has committed the breach of discipline, and not only make it very unpleasant for him, but also make him ridiculous in the eyes of the other men. Second, they leave no stain on his record and let him keep his money.

It must not be taken from the above that I do not believe court-martial necessary, for I most emphatically do in many cases. You often cannot reach constant offenders by any other method. Also such offenses as ”theft,” desertion, and serious insubordination can be dealt with suitably by no other method. I believe in keeping all cases away from the court when possible, but I also believe, when you do take them into the courts, you should punish stringently.

In addition to the numerous incidents where too severe penalties have been imposed, there are many instances of unjustifiable leniency. This is resented by all alike. I remember the comment which was caused among all ranks by the pardoning of men convicted of having slept on their posts. This pardoning sounds pretty and humane to those who have not been in the fighting line, but where the lives of all depend on the vigilance of that sentry, it is ”a gray horse of another color.”

CHAPTER V

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