Racine County, Wisconsin - Chapter 24: The Racine Ambulance Company, 1920

Chapter 24: The Racine Ambulance Company

/» MBULANCE Company 127, 107th Sanif-\ tary Train, Thirty-second division, was completely organized by the end of May, 1917, at Racine. It entrained for Camp Douglas, Wis., July 29, and remained there with the rest of the Wisconsin National Guard, as a part of which it was called Ambulance Co. No. 2, W. N. G. It entrained for Waco, Tex., Sept. 28, and spent four months in intensive drill. During this period it became a motorized organization, and was given its permanent designation as a member of the division.

Jan. 17, 1918, the company entrained for Camp Merritt, N. J., preparatory to going overseas. On Feb. 7 it embarked on the Transport Martha Washington and on Feb. 26 disembarked at Brest, France. After travelling half way across France by rail, the unit reached its first station at Champlitte and the men were billeted in barns and houses and began the customary procedure of getting acquainted with French words and inhabitants, and cleaning up the village streets and dooryards in accordance with the sanitary regulations.

On March 27, thirteen men and one officer were detached and assigned to the Second division. On April 4, headquarters were moved to Prangey. On May 14 the company started for Alsace for its first experience in a quiet sector of the front, near Belfort. The new station was at Anjoutey. The ambulances were put into service immediately caiTying sick and wounded men from the front to the Belfort hospitals, and the remainder of the company were divided into sections which took turns serving at dressing stations in and near the trenches. On July 21, the Ambulance company again received orders to move and travelled overland to Pont St. Maxence. After a few days' rest the company was notified that it was to accompany the rest of the division to the scene of active operations around Chateau-Thierry, and on July 27 the command reached the Marne river.

The story of the company's experiences from here on has been compiled from "The Silver Bugle," the official publication of the Ambulance unit. The publishers of "The Silver Bugle" very generously granted permission for the use of their material, and while it could not be reproduced in full the extracts presented herevidth will disclose a fairly complete record of the subsequent experiences of this veteran organization:

"We arrived at Azy about midnight, July 27; tired, wet, and hungry. It was too late to find billets, so each man had to shift for himself. Any space, that was large enough for a man to stretch out in, was a bed that night. We were too tired to be pai'ticular. The follovring morning we were up at 5 A. M. We established ourselves in a barn and set up the kitchen. After breakfast, we spent our time exploring the town.

"The people had fled at the approach of the Germans and the big bridge, spanning the Marne, was blo\vn up. We had the whole town to ourselves and, after our inspection of the place, we enjoyed a good svrim in the Marne. All day long there was an endless column of traffic, going to and from the front. Wounded were being transported back in ambulances, ti'ucks, wagons, or anything that could be drafted into service. All this hustle and bustle, this tremendous business end of war, and the sight of the many wounded, had a bewildering effect on our imagination, for, it must be remembered, we were on the eve of going into battle for the first time ourselves.

"We were not given a long time to think things over, for our machines were called out that evening to evacuate from Chateau-Thierry. At the same time our combat units went into the line. The next day, the 29th, three of our officers and thirty men went up to establish a dressing station. The rest of the men were still working on the machines. This trip was one never to be forgotten. We went up in trucks over roads filled with traffic, passed through Chateau-Thierry, and reached LaCharmel about 11 P. M. We were astounded at the sights on the way up; - every town was in ruins, roads were filled with shell holes, trees were cut or blown down, dead horses were everyw^here, along the roads and in the fields. Salvage of all description wa? strewn about, including guns, blood-stained clothes, grenades, shells, broken wagons, Boche and American helmets, and every conceivable art,cle tha_ is used in modern warfare. In the valleys the stench from dead men and horses was unbearable. In the haste of the great drive no one had time to bury these unfortunates.

"We were in La Charniel about fifteen minutes when our artillery opened a terrific barrage. The big and little guns wei-e all around the town and the roar was simply deafening. Natui'ally evei'y one was excited, as the Boche returned the fire. We had a number of gas alarms to make our first night more uncomfortable. We felt sorry for the men in the woods and valleys, who were operating our guns, for that was where most of the shells were falling. But just then we received orders that we would have to spend the nigM in those woods, and establish a dressing station in the morning. Well, what a feeling! This was to be our first time under intensive shell fire. We said nothing. There was nu time to talk. The Boche shelled all nieht and w^e had one gas alarm after another.

"The next morning the shells began falling closer and we were very much relieved when we received oi'ders to proceed to La Fosse Farm, about 2% kilometers up toward the front. We were ordered to march in sets of twos, about fifty yards apart, so that we wouldn't 'all be killed at once!' How considerate! When we emerged from the woods, we beheld a sight we shall never forget. Sti'etched out on the field, on both sides of the road all the way to La Fosse Farm, was one line of guns after another, all firing at once. Hundreds of them. The noise and vibi'ation was terrific !

"We arrived at the Farm without mishap and found only one building that was not in ruins. So here, July 30, 191S, the anniversary of our going to Camp Douglas, we set up the first dressing station of the 32nd Division in action. This Farm was the center of a mass of artillery, and many German shells, meant for our artillei'y, fell uncomfortably close to our station.

steady line of wounded and each one received first aid dressings, good hot drinks, and warm blankets and was then taken back to a hospital in the rear.

"From here we went to Longeville Farm. It was during our stay here that Major Bruins and Captain Mitten were captured by the Germans and did not return to us until Januai'y, 1919, at Sayn. When we slept, we slept in a barn; but when it rained, we were out of luck; as none of the buildings had a roof. It rained a good deal here and the mud was often a foot deep. There were many graves about the place and we buried a few while we were there. From time to time we advanced our station, as the lines advanced. Captain Johnston was placed in command of the Ambulance section in place of Major Bruins, who was captured at Fismette.

"The division reached the Vesle and captured Fismes and was relieved on the 7th of August. We went back to Fresnes for the night, taking a different road back, but we soon found that all the roads were in a deplorable condition. Many graves dotted the roadside and salvage of every description was strewn over the fields. Fresnes was on our left flank and pretty well back, so that we had a good sleep for one night.

"At Reddy Farm, we received authority to wear a gold chevron, signifying six months in service overseas. Captain Johnston hei-e took Major Bruin's place formally and Lieut. Schnetz became our commanding officer. Capt. Dew was transferred to the supply train and Lieut. Rhynerson went to Ambulance Co. 125. Lieut. Shaw and Lieut. McCulla joined our company.

"On Aug. 24 we moved out of the sector to the big forest outside of St. Etienne. We remained there resting until the 27th, when we moved to Vic-sur-Aisne to do evacuation work. On Sept. 2 we moved to a huge cave near Tartiers, and remained there four days administering to the wounded. The work of the ambulance drivers was very difficult and dangerous. No lights were allowed. The roads were badly torn up and subjected to severe shell fire during the fierce battle for possession of Juvigny and Terny-Sorny.

"The cave was a large one, but at the time of our arrival was somewhat congested with Moroccan and German wounded. Every passage way was littei-ed with wounded men, waiting for attention. We all set to work imme-

Phillip Westfahl, commanding officer of 121st F. A. from the time of its organization as a National Guard Unit until July 20. 1918. After being in charge of railway construction works in France nine months he resumed command of the regiment and was in command of it when it returned to the United States in May. 1919. The illustration shows diately, cleaned a space in which to place oui dressing station, and were soon alleviating the congestion. The Boche wounded seemed to be very much pleased and anxious to get back to an American base hospital.

"During the night, six inch rifles were placed just outside the cave, and at 4:30 the followingmorning a rolling barrage was commenced. These big guns, combined with many guns of the 75 m. m. caliber, kept the cave trembling vsdth continuous vibration. An ill-timed shell, fired from one of the big guns, exploded a few feet fi'om the muzzle of the gun, tearing a big hole in the ground and wounding several Frenchmen. From this we concluded that the woods and territory occupied by the Huns, where these big shells wei-e landing, was a modern inferno.

"Not many shells were coming our way, until one afternoon, when a Boche aviator came over and located our batteries. Shortly aftel-^vard we underwent a barrage, but our artillery soon put the Huns out of action. Some of the Hun gas shells landed near the cave, and at one time the sneezing gas was so concenti'ated that it became almost necessary for us to don our gas masks. The usual round of profanity was at once meted out to Kaiser Bill, and needless to say, many select words of the vocabulary were used.

"Every now and then a Boche plane would introduce itself from up in the clouds; then our anti-air craft and machine guns would at once open fire with a barrage, and Fritz would either take a hard bump on good old Mother Earth, or immediately get out of range. Men would pick up rifles and start pecking away and it sure was hot for any Hun who ever ventured in this neighborhood. The Allies had complete control of the air in this vicinity and it was a common sight to see 50 or 100 planes, in battle formation, going over to pay their compliments to Fritz.

On Sept. 10 we were on our way out of the Soissons sector and went to Sommancourt for an 11-day I'est, interspersed with periods of drill and practice hikes. From here the outfit drove to Bar-le-Duc and thence to the Meuse-Argonne sector, where the final great offensive of the war had begun on Sept. 26. On the morning of the 28th, the ambulance men started out in the darkness for the vicinity of Montfaucon, captured from th? Germans the day before. It was foggy and rainy, but by 6 o'clock in the morning it began to get light and we could see that the fields and roads over which we were going, were fll^d with shell holes. After some difficulty, we finally came to a place where we had to leave the road and cross a shell-torn field which, after a short time, led us to another road. Here the traffic was so congested that we could hardly move. The M. P.'s along the way were unable to take care of the traffic and things were in an avsrful mess. Finally, after an all day struggle, we came to our destination after dark.

"We were in Very and it was dark and raining. The noise of the guns was deafening and shells were breaking all around us. Along the road were dead horses and broken wagons. We were ordered out of the cars and were told to hunt shelter. Some of the men crawled into a tunnel, which later was found to be a water drain, while the others packed themselves into a small room and had to stand up the rest of the night. Our cars were immediately put into action with the 91st division, which, we later found out, we were to aid for the next week. And they surely needed help. Wounded men were lying all around in the rain and mud, getting no attention, and the next day one of our officers and two of our men helped them in their dressing station and cleaned up the congestion in shoi't order. What a relief when daylight came. Everyone was tired and hungry and welcomed the meal of beans, hard bread, and coff'ee which the cooks had prepared for us. After this hearty meal, a place for our dressing station was found in some dugouts the Germans had made.

"On the afternoon of October 3rd, we received oi'ders to close our dressing station at Very and to proceed farther foi-ward to establish another in the tovra of Ivory. In about an hour we were packed and ready to move. On account of the congestion of the traffic and the shelling of the roads in that direction, only two machines were sent out at a time, two others following at fifteen-minute intervals. The distance was only about five kilos but the roads were bad. For some distance we were obliged to travel over a rough, one-way, plank road. After leaving this, we passed through the shattered village of Epionville which was under shell fire most of the time, and then on to our destination.

"When the first of the cars to be sent out reached Ivory, they were greeted by a 'young barrage' from a German battery, and, instead of being able to look about for a site for a station, all had to take shelter until the firing had ceased. The Hun was showing no pai-tiality that night, so from here he shifted his fire over to the plank roa 1 where two more machin?s were being held up by two balky mules. These-

The Welcome Home Of The Ambulance Boys Getting Started Toward The Center Of The City

Automobiles, bands, marching men and thousands of spectators participated in the event that amounted to a climax of all wartime incidents when the last of Racine's Units came home.

cars were evacuated in a hurry, and the men ran, looking for a place of safety. Some crawled into 'fox holes' in an adjoining field, while others felt perfectly safe under an ammunition cart by the road side. After banging away for about fifteen minutes, Fritz stopped; and these cars, along with the rest of the train, reached their destination without further disturbance.

"It was growing dark by the time we landed and the work of establishing our station was made more difficult. Already in the town - which, by the way, like all others in that area, was pretty well battered up - was the regimental aid station of the 126th infantry. They were occupying about the best building in the place; it had at least a roof over it. We took the next best to it - a large, old stone structure which undoubtedly had been a French peasant home and barn combined. The roof was about gone and in many places the walls were shattered. But we found three fairly good rooms on the ground floor. One we used for the dressing room; one, for the office and soup kitchen; and the other, for a place in which to house the patients. In the old barn we set up our company kitchen. There was evidence of German occupation everywhere, as Fritz had moved out only two days before. Luckily he left us a few old stoves, so things were made fairly comfortable.

"All work had to be done by candle or lantern light, after all doors and windows were well blanketed to prevent observation by aeroplanes. In about one-half hour, we wei'e all set and ready to receive patients. Things were vei-y quiet that night on the line, so the regimental station was able to care for all casualties. 01 course our cars were put to work at once, evacuating those patients that did come in.

"After the night detail was appointed, the rest of us started to find a place to sleep. Scattered about in the old building were many bunks that the Germans had used; these were immediately taken. Others preferred the .-ocalled dug-outs, which were only galvanized iron tunnel affairs about 5 feet in circumference. These were vei-y safe unless something struck them.

"Our work here, as in other stations, consisted of re-dressing the wounds; applying splints: administering the anti-tetanic serum; and making the patient comfortable with hot blankets, hot drinks, and morphine. From here they v.'ere transported back in our cars to the field hospital.

shelled. Soon they were being driven forward beyond our dressing station to an aid str.tion just behind the line. More than once I, he boys had narrow escapes from being blown ofi the map.

'"("'ay after day we went through the same routine. One could not keep from feeling more or less tired and blue, for ours was not the riost cheerful work. But on the third or fourth day, things brightened up a lot. The reason -vas, that mail came, and we are safe in sayin;; Ihat never before nor since were letters from home more welcome than they were at this time. They certainly helped a great deal. Vv hen the work would run light, we had various means of passing the time away. One f.ivorite was for a crowd to gather in the .station and to discuss, pro and con, the various rumors of peace that were then in circulation. Another was to have a 'shirt reading contest,' the object being to see who could find the largest number of 'cooties,' for at this time we were all peppered with the pests. On quiet evenings our orchestra would liven things up with many of the old favorite tunes.

"It was while we were here that we had our first casualty. Private Keefe was injured by a fragment of a shell while acting as a litter bearer to the line.

"One thing caused us little worry now and that was enemy planes. We were too far forward for rear area bombing and, anyway, the majority of the nights were cloudy and rainy. Mud was ankle deep. But during the day we saw plenty of aerial activity and many interesting air battles.

"On the 19th our division was relieved and was moved back into support and two days later we also went back to a location on the road between Very and Avocourt.

"October 21 dawmed wet, foggy, grey, and dismal. Our division had been relieved and our company had received orders to move toward the rear. After a fifteen kilometer journey over the diiliest, muddiest, roads imaginable, we suddenly broke upon the wilds of Boise de Chappy and dowm into the bottom of what we immediately termed 'Muddy Hollow.' No name was ever more adequately chosen. It sure was a hollow and it sure was muddy. Gobs and oodles of it.

"Rumor had it that we were to go away back and enjoy a 60 or 90 day rest period. But, as oft before, we were doomed to disappointment! We were told that our division was a

Along Washington avenue the men paraded into the city, the last march they were to make as glorious and hard working months they experienced in Europe.

"So there was nothing to do but make the best of it. Immediately we started in to make ourselves at home. Pup tents were pitched and each man tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. As usual, the first night found Fritz above us, kicking out his tail gate. The visit lasted only a few minutes, during which Roy Schnetz and 'Skeeter' Bowman were awakened out of a sound sleep, but when they jumped into a shell hole filled with water, they were soon wide awake.

"On Thursday morning, November 7th, we were up at 5:30, taking down our pup tents, rolling our packs, and preparing for another move. Breakfast was served at 6:30 and by 7:30 we were bidding Muddy Hollow our last fond fai'ewell. The pages of our memory books are full of many happy events that befell us during our seventeen day sojourn here, and it was therefore with a pang of regret that we now left behind us the ease and comfort of our temporary 'homes' and moved forward to Romagne.

"Our stay at Romagne was a short, but memorable one. Rumors were flying 'thick and fast.' Everybody had a different story to repoi't. The vei'y atmosphere was permeated with a dynamic, mysterious uncertainty that caught and held us all. We all felt that the end was near; but how, and when, and under what conditions hostilities would cease, wei'e the questions and problems for which various and conflicting solutions were suggested, and in the discussion of which we were all engaged. Momentous events were transpiring in the history of the world, and the news of most of them reached us only through the most devious channels. We didn't know whether to believe the rumors or not. Hope, fear, belief, and doubt were the emotions that swept us from the very pinnacle of joy to the very depth of despair. Papers reached us only once a week and then they were generally a week old. But the news they did bring to us was most cheerful and promising. Turkey had surrendered to the British; the Bulgarians had met disastrous defeat at the hands of the Siberians and French; 500,000 Austrians had been captured; and Austria and Hungary had been forced to surrender to Italy. One calamity followed another and a very avalanche of disaster was sweeping the allied enemies to destruction. A revolution had broken loose in Germany, the Kaiser had abdicated, the soldiers refused to fight any longer. The dawn <d{ a better day was breaking and the dai'kness

"We felt all this. It was in the air. It somehow fastened itself in one's mind and heart and just naturally couldn't and wouldn't be shaken ofl^. Somehow, someway, something was going to happen and that something was going to be 'grand and glorious.' But at that we weren't prepared for what took place the first evening of our stay in Romagne. It came so suddenly, and broke upon the darkness of the silent night with such unexpectedness and force that it swept us right ofl' our feet and carried us on the crest of a dangerous pre-peace celebration. It was 6:30 on the evening of November 7th when the first inkling of what was soon to happen, reached us. Out of the north it came. From the front of the far flying battle line it reached us faintly, at fi.rst like the rush of many waters nearer it came till it swept over us like a torrent and caught us in the ebb of its irresistible flow. We had to join in; we couldn't withstand the infection of the moment. Lights were lit, flares and rockets were sent up, and huge bonfires sprang from the surrounding hill sides as though set off by some magic wand. Ambulances, trucks, motorcycles, and limousines passed by -i^ath glaring head lights, full aflame. The tooting of horns, the blowing of whistles, and firing of rifles all broke upon the silence of the night. A very bedlam had broken loose and the word 'Peace' was on everybody's lips. The celebration lasted only about one hour and was as abruptly ended as it had been mysteriously started. We can thank God that it was a wet, foggy night and that flares and lights were unable to penetrate through the dense atmospheric condition to any great extent, for had it been a clear, cloudless night we might be writing a diff'erent story now.

"The following morning we found out that the previous night's celebration had not been without its cause. A German Peace delegation had crossed the French line at Hauchory and was in confei'ence -with Marshall Foch. This was the beginning of the end.

"November 11th, the day that was to mean so much in our lives, came like any other day. We awoke after a sleep, uninterrupted by Boche bombers, and set about performing our vai'ious duties. This was supposed to be the 'great day,' the day for which we had risked all. Our imaginations were dead, and our hopes and inclinations to believe in rumors were exhausted. In a great stoi-y or play this would have been a dramatic scene with everyone realizing the full significance of the ocea- sion. But this was not a play; it was real - too real. The absence of enthusiasm and cheering was uncanny, for we had long expected that when the war came to an end the greatest celebration would be at the front. But the shock was too great. So many things had happened in so short a time that we were bewildered. Men scarcely spoke. All went about their duties like men dumfounded by some supernatural event. By noon we knew that it was all over but the same silence hung over everyone, for men found their physical powers too inadequate to express and manifest the wonderful emotions which they felt in their hearts and souls. Thus was this memorable day spent, each man living to himself, with vivid thoughts of home and the future occupying his mind to the exclusion of all else.

"On the 12th we were shaken from our apparent stupor by orders to proceed to Liny Devant Dun. The machines had come in the night before after evacuating the last wounded to the rear, so we had plenty of transportation.

"We left Romagne at noon and passed over the remainder of the territory which had been the scene of that now famous battle, the Meuse-Argonne. The first town on our route was Bantheville where our division had been relieved after 21 days of fighting in October. Passing by this town we went through Dulcon, Dun sur Meuse, and finally to Liny.

"Our purpose in coming to Liny was to operate a large delousing plant which the Germans had built. The town was partly destroyed, being one of the last towns reached in our advance before the armistice. However, this plant showed very little signs of the bombardment and we found it in a fairly good condition. The Germans did not have time to destroy it, but they did leave the rooms in a filthy condition. The whole company set to work and in two hours we had the place looking like a modern auditorium.

"As now we had passed from the sphere of active warfare to the operation of a plant, we believe that this unique experience, our first post bellum activity, deserves a brief description.

"The delouser was a frame building about 150 feet long and about 50 feet wide. In front was a large porch, in the center of which was the main entrance. On either side of this entrance was a large dressing room with benches for the men to sit on and a large stove to make them comfortable. Behind these rooms was one large room, the entire width of the building. Here were the ovens in which the clothes were placed to be steamed. On either side of the ovens were counters where towels and soap were issued as the men passed to the rear where there was another large room containing showers.

"In fact, each side of the building was the same, complete in itself; and each was supposed to be worked by a separate crew. First the dressing room, then the ovens, then the showers, after which the men returned by the same way; turned in their soap and wet towels; got their clothing; and entered the dressing room.

"Theoretically this was a fine plant but when we came to work it the bubble burst. First the coil in one furnace sprang a leak, and, when that was repaired, another burst. The flues of the ovens did not work well and we had to give up the idea of delousing the clothes. We centered all our attention on the shower baths and from then on, till we left, we bathed on the average of four or five hundred men per day. We had one regiment of infantry and one machine gun brigade to clean up. The rest of the division was distributed among five other bath houses in the vicinity.

"The work at Liny was not the only interesting part of our stay. For many months we had lived in anything we could find, which was usually an old barn, a dugout, a rock pile, or a mud hole. Hei'e we were to live in class, not as we should have at home; but, nevei'theless, fine as compared to what we had been accustomed. Most of the houses near the plant had at least survived the bombardment. Of course they had suff'ered the neglect of four years of war during the German occupation, but each had a roof and a stove. There were quite a few iron beds in the bathhouse and hospital and there were few of us who didn't appropriate one of these. If there was a billet without a stove already in it, we soon supplied the want; for each machine carried a stove along for emergency. This wouldn't be considered the best military form in a 'best seller,' but it was considered good soldiering around our neck of the woods. For many times we had to sleep in a hole and our stoves always came in handy. The town was searched for every kind of furniture, kettles, wash pans, tubs, and pails; and after the first night we were living fine. We could also have lights now as there would be no more danger. Hence we did not have to go to bed at sunset but could sit up and read, write, and play cards.

"Histoi-y is never complete without a word about old Dame Rumor. There were only thvee rumors afloat at this time. The most important was that we were to delouse our division only and then go back to the states. Next in line came the cruel rumor that we had to operate this delouser for the whole first Army, which meant a steady job. Last, but not least, we were one of the honored divisions to be chosen for the Ai'my of Occupation. Nvi one believed this first rumor; we hated to think of the second; but somehow all felt thnt thoy could tolerate the third.

"It was while we were hei'e that thi- men seemed to realize after all that the war wa.-, over. The Fifth Division, with whom we fought on the last day, came and camped on the hills near us. Each man had an individual bonfire; and, as there were thousands of them, it looked on those dark nights as if some constellation had fallen from heaven in all its glory. Everyone was shooting up their spare flares, star shells, and rockets; and it was moi-e beautiful than any 4th of July we have ever seen. Now and then a great chaser would go up from one hill, only to be answered by men on another. Everyone was happy beyond description.

"While hei'e we received the daily papers, the things we always longed for and seldom received, and read to our satisfaction of the Armistice terms.

"We were willing to make the hike for its historical value but, oh, how we hated to leave our happy homes here. However, we were still in the army and orders were orders; so we made the best of it. We received orders to be ready to move on the 17th. Before going, we received the famous Barred Red Arrow as our divisional insignia.

"We went to bed early on the 16th so as to get rested up well before starting on our long hike. On the 17th we were up bright and early with packs all rolled for hiking, but to our pleasant surprise we learned that we were to ride in our machines. The morning was spent in policing up the grounds as usual and after dinner we assembled, ready to go.

"On Nov. 21 we were in Belgium, but had it not been for the maps, the flags, and the people along the way, we should not have known the difference. Along the road were German guns and trucks that had been turned over to the Allies. At every stop we would get out and examine the cause of so many months of worry for us. As we passed through towns, all the people were celebrating and Allied flags flew from every house. At dark we found ourselves in a town called Strassens, just over the border of Luxemburg. Here we were told to stop for the night. After a little difficulty, we found some barns that were none too clean, for our sleeping quarters. An hour later the cooks had a meal ready for us, stew and coffee. After this hearty repast, we found oui'selves with nothing to do but visit a cafe or go to bed. "We were up at six, with our packs all made and waiting for breakfast. After breakfast we piled into our trucks, and, after a short ride over a very pretty country, we arrived at Walferdange. Much to our surprise, we found it to be a good sized town where we were to stay a week or so.

"Thanksgiving day fount! us still in Walferdange. Thanksgiving dinner consisted of steaks, potatoes, gravy, tomatoes, bread and butter, and pumpkin pie. Considering the ration difficulty, we declared it a regular meal and did justice to it.

"Passes were issued for a visit to the city of Luxemburg. German souvenirs were in demand and the Luxemburg merchants did a wonderful business. If one had the necessary mai'ks, he could procure a regular meal in the Luxemburg hotels and restaurants. Chocolate was the scarce article, a small piece selling for the sum of 18 Francs. So one had to be pretty well 'heeled' if he desii'ed to satisfy his sweet tooth.

"At 2 A. M. on December 14, we arrived at the town of Weis and were told that this was where we were to stay. We parked our cars and were shown to our billets which we found to be the regular issue of barns and into which 30 or 40 men were crowded.

"At the appointed hour we were all set and piled our packs into the trucks and started on our three kilometer hike to Sayn, which was to be our destination for some time.

"We were all settled by the 22nd, when we received orders to send a number of men out on detached service. The wagoners were sent out vifith the machines to operate with the

Battery C From Racine To Waco

At the top is "C" marching to the train on July 2, 1917, below is a demonstration of cleanliness, then the train that took "C" to Waco. The next two show the camp at MacArthur (Waco); two "hike" picture are at top. riffht, and below can be seen the rookie artillerymen doing a little shoveling near camp. At bottom is a group with heads clipped to represent billiard balls. The small views at the top are of Veauxhalles, France (at the left) and a regimental football game at hospitals. Many were sent to various infantry outfits in order to transport any sick who had to be taken to a hospital. Thirty men wei'e sent to Rengensdorf to work with Field Hospital 127. Later the Y. M. C. A. asked for drivers and men to work in the theatre and then the Red Cross wanted a few; so by the time all the details were out, we hardly had enough men left to make a respectable platoon. Consequently, we had no drill, much to the satisfaction of those who were left. However, those who remained had a good deal of K. P. and guard duty.

"Next to one of the billets was a bathroom with a number of good showers. The Germans kept the furnaces hot all the time so we could bathe most any time of the day.

"There was a good theatre, run by the Y. M. C. A. Divisional headquarters of the 'Y' located here and in addition a branch of the Red Cross. The 'Y' also had a canteen where we could buy most anything we wanted. It had been a long time since we had been able to get chocolate and cookies and we were mighty glad to get them.

"Not long after we were there, Divisional Headquarters sent out circulars asking that each unit furnish some kind of a show to be run on a divisional circuit. The various units were scattered around in many towns. Thus, besides making life easier for the men, the show troupes would have a chance to travel around and see the different towns. All players were taken off details and had nothing else to do but practice and show. All together there were about 15 different shows traveling around and showing at different toviTis once or twice each week.

"The 107th Sanitary Train put out a good minstrel show. As our company had a jazz band as well as a goodly number of singers and dancers, we made up the greater part of the show and it took well wherever it went. So each day or so after their duties were over, the men could look forwai'd to seeing a fairly good show and having some good laughs. After all the shows of our division had covered the circuit, we exchanged with the Second Division on our right. Their shows lasted nearly up to the time we left Sayn.

home. It was hard to realize that at last we were to return to the United States, and no one would really admit believing it until we were aboard the battleship Virginia at Brest.

"The fourteen days spent at Brest seemed to us, in contrast to what they might have been and should have been, about the most disagreeable of our army experience. At no other place did we see American soldiers given such discourteous treatment as at Camp Pantanazen.

"Everything possible was done to make our enforced stay a hard and strenuous one. When we left Sayn it had been reported that no longer than four days were to be spent in the rest camp at Brest. Well, once more, as usual, we established another recoi-d. Again we were the 'goats' and fourteen long, weary, nerve-racking, laborious days we ground and slaved in that camp of physical, mental, and spiritual torture. We were on detail all the time, day and night. And when it wasn't that it was inspection, or bath, or some other such bluff that some of these camp 'looies' pulled off on us. Oh, they sure had us jumping at a lively rate, and we'll never forget the time we had there. We did everything fi'om mixing cement to building duck-walks, and the last day they had us hauling high, heavy sticks of cord wood and laying railroad tracks. Oh, yes, it was a rest camp all right, but our fingers fairly itched to lay hands on the pest who invented that name.

"But the grand and glorious day finally came; and Wednesday, May 7th, found us once more on the move. We were up at 4 a. m., rolled our packs, and made ready to leave. Had our last bi'eakfast in the old kitchen. No. 14, at 5:.30. Put finishing touches to our respective tents, and by 7:20 we lined up per the passenger list, and bade our final silent adieu to the place that had housed us for the past two weeks.

"The packs were heavy, the way they chose was the longest, and befoi'e we I'eached Brest we were a tired, worn out bunch. Oh, boy! That hike was a terror, and the one thing that kept us keyed up was the knowledge that at last we were 'homeward bound.' At the pier everything worked like clock-work and once more the Red Cross was on the job, handing out the goods. The .3-3rd Division band played us a number of farewell pieces, and the last one we heard as we left the harbor in our ship was the grand old piece, 'Homewai-d Bound.' A 2nd 'Looie' jammed us in that little ship till he nearly squeezed the life out of us. But we stood for it all without a murmur. We were

Racine Device That Helped The Boys Keep Clean

Portable field laundry, nsed by the A. E. F. that was pulled around France by a Case tractor and furnished with power for washing by the same Racine machine. This was snapped at Is-sur-Tille by Lt. H. J. Sanders.

taking no chances. Naturally we thought a lot, but 'mum' was the word and silence reigned supreme. In fact the whole trip from the Pantanazen Camp to the pier was a silent, noiseless, songless one. We were ordered to refrain from talking while on the march; and, needless to say, we followed instructions. This also made our hike seem longer and more strenuous, because there's nothing like a song to cheer a fellow up on a long, hai'd march. It was about 10:45 when we left land and walked the first gang-plank into the small vessel that was to transport us to the battleship Virginia. At 11:30 we walked the plank up the big fighting sea-dog."

The ambulance company landed at Newport News May 20, and after four pleasant days at Camp Morrison, the boys entrained on a regular American train with seats and berths and windows for Camp Gi'ant, 111., to be mustered out. This ceremony was completed on May 29, and then thirty-five automobiles provided by Racine Commercial club members brought the boys back to their home towii. It was a beautiful day, and the ride was most enjoyable. At its conclusion. Ambulance company 127 formed ranks for the last time on Washington avenue, and under command of Major Johnston, marched down to the center of town between lines of cheering people and were dismissed in the court of honor on Third street. It was a happy and fitting conclusion of two years of service during the greatest of all wars.

The personnel of the Ambulance company underwent numerous changes during its service. A dozen men were transferred from its ranks shortly after its arrival at Camp Douglas, owing to an order altering the size of various medical units. A large proportion of the members, however, remained on its rolls to the time of mustering out. Sergeant James P. Hawley was lost when the Transport Tuscania was torpedoed off the coast of Ireland early in 1918, Private "Jack" Clancy, a lovable lad not yet out of his 'teens, died at a hospital near Chaumont, France, Sept. 23, 191S, of pneumonia, after he had undergone two months of service at the front. The company lost no men killed in action. Paul Hecht and Andy Lang succumbed to illness shortly after reaching France.