Racine County, Wisconsin - Chapter 28: The End of the War, 1920

THE signing of the armistice and the cessation of hostilities at 11 o'clock in the morning of Nov. 11, 1918, found the American troops active on all fronts and in several places preparing to attack the enemy line at 12 o'clock noon. The muddy, weary doughboys out in front; the sweating, swearing artillerymen at their backs, and the tireless engineers and ambulance drivers and teamsters along the roads had no heart to cheer the news when yelling couriers and low-flying aeroplanes finally brought the story of the end of the world's greatest war. Although the word was expected, it was doubted at first. ' Rifles and cannons were kept hot from firing right up to 10:59 o'clock in expectation that this report would prove a hoax as one had on Nov. 7. Many a daring member of a patrol, feeling of the enemy lines, lost his life in the last half hour of the conflict.

At 11 o'clock the artillery was suddenly silenced, and the rattle of rifle and machine gun fire ceased permanently. There was a brief moment of joyful shouting and repartee, and then the vast majority of that great army which had accomplished the impossible laid down in the mud of France and had a real nice sleep. For many, it was the first undisturbed rest in weeks.

Strict orders were issued against holding any communication -wath the enemy, and grinning Germans who walked toward their late foes with miniature flags of truce in their hands, were turned back by stern-faced sentries who showed an utter lack of cordiality.

"The enemy has capitulated. It is fitting that I address myself in thanks directly to the officers and soldiers of the American Expeditionary Forces who by their heroic efforts have made possible this glorious result.

trained, met a veteran enemy and by courage, discipline and skill always defeated him. Without complaint you have endured incessant toil, privation and danger. You have seen many of your comrades make the supreme sacrifice that freedom may live.

"I thank you for the patience and courage with which you have endured. I congratulate you upon the splendid fruits of victory which your heroism and the blood of our gallant dead are now presenting to our nation. Your deeds will live forever on the most glorious pages of America's history.

For two or three days there was almost complete idleness along what had been the front. The troops, as soon as they were convinced that the war was really over, enjoyed complete relaxation for the first time since they donned a uniform. They played cards, "shot craps" and visited neighboring commands without fear of inteiTuption. Then discipline began to tighten up again, and aside from their daily tasks the sole question of interest was, "When do we start for home ? "

All along the old battle line from Sedan down along the Meuse toward Verdun there glowed at night the embers of thousands of Yankee campfires. Cigarettes gleamed and voices were raised in songs and laughter where for four years it would have been folly to strike a match and treason to build a fire.

Reveille and retreat sounded across what had been No Man's land, and although the front was now termed a "rest area," fighting was replaced by such a continual round of drill, drill and more drill that the weary doughboy wondered if the old armistice was really all that it was cracked up to be. With all the horrors of war, there never was a soldier who would trade his place in the muddiest dugout in a shell swept sector for a camp where he would have to resume "squad east and west" for its "disciplinary value," as G. H. Q. loved to describe that jolly exercise, always prescribed for inmates of rest areas. Soldiers took comfort in the front and in battles because while there they could dispense with the close order drill and strict observance of military courtesies which always reminded them that they were merely a cog in a great machine.

One blessing of this post-armistice fortnight was the presence of the field kitchens in the midst of their units. Instead of sending cans full of food five miles to the hungry doughboys up ahead, the cooks brought their chariots right up to the advance positions on Nov. 12, and thereafter kept a never-ending stream of well earned flapjacks, hot slum and salmon patties flowing to the proper destinations.

Nine divisions strong - the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 32nd, 42nd, 89th and 90th - the Third American Army began on the morning of Sunday, November 17, its march to the Rhine.

It was at 5:30 that the order "Foi-ward, march" sounded along the American line from Mouzon to Thiaucourt - Mouzon on the Meuse just below Sedan and Thiaucourt down in the heart of what was once the St. Mihiel salient.

An hour or so earlier, the unfriendly notes of reveille had disturbed the chill November air and tumbled out of a myriad dugouts and pup tents a stamping, gi'owling, cursing crew who damned the Kaiser and swore at Germany, but not one of whom could have been hired for love or money to go off on leave this day of days.

Indeed, for several days before the march began, officers and men who had started forth so gaily on their long postponed leaves kept hurrying back of their own accord at the first inkling that their outfit had been among those nominated to keep a watch on the Rhine. Even men who, on the strength of the armistice, had decided to go AWOL for a day or so, would glean the good news at half-way towns like Bar-le-Duc or Chalons and come sneaking back as fast as their legs or hospitable trucks would carrj' them. Every one wanted to be among those present at what came in no time to be known as "The Party."

lead to the frontier - plodding along and singing as they went. And the song that they sang to Germany was a new version of an old favorite which broke ever and again into the familiar refrain, "The Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming."

Ahead of them, as they ambled foi-ward, stretched a country-side strewn with the things the Germans had been too hurried or too indifferent to carry along. In nearly every village, the streets were fairly littered with German guns, German helmets, German cartridge belts as though, when the armistice news came, they had been dropped then and there, never to be picked up again by German hands.

Whole platoons of American Infantry could be seen parading toward the frontier, each head adorned with a spiked German helmet. The souvenir market was glutted before sundown of the first day, and lugers, which, a fortnight before, would have sold for anywhere from 100 to 300 francs, could be had in exchange for one package of cigarettes.

Then there were big guns and an occasional truck abandoned in the haste of the great departure. One of these trucks was as empty as a ruined but on its tailboard the departing enemy had hung this affable sign: "Help yourselfs."

Then, treasure trove of treasure troves, the advancing Americans found in the German hospitals some Yankee wounded. In the big hospital at Virton, for instance, the Germans had been obliged to leave behind some 400 men too seriously wounded to be moved - left them there with a full staff of surgeons and nurses to care for them - and among these were nine Americans. They had lain there, lonesome and helpless, for many weary days and nights. They woke on the morning of the 20th to find friendly Americans swarming around their beds, showering them with cigarettes and magazines.

And all along the way the men of the Third Army, moving foi-ward unmolested as though on some easy practice march, were greeted and passed by an unending stream of refugees, thousands upon thousands of scantily clad, hungry, tired, happy refugees, prisoners of war, civilian prisoners, fugitive townsfolk, men, women and children, of all ages and all nationalities, thousands upon thousands of them pouring through the towns and villages already gay with French and Amei-ican flags.

When the Rhine was finally reached, and the Army of Occupation settled down for its long spell in Germany, all the attraction soon fled, for once again the old round of strict discipline, interminable drills and reviews, and orders forbidding fraternization with the enemy and almost any other form of amusement were put into effect. While these veterans were keeping the watch on the Rhine, divisions which had come to France long after they had, were on their way home. Only the occasional furloughs to visit designated leave areas served to relieve the monotony. It was well along in the spring when the homesick lads of the "Ameroc" began to be relieved by newly recruited Regular army regiments, and turn their faces once more toward St. Nazaire, Brest, Bordeaux and home. It was the middle of the summer before the bulk of them had reached their native land.

Aside from the Army of Occupation, the divisions were moving out of France for America with considerable I'apidity after Dec. 1. But there were many complications connected with the dissolution of the A. E. F. Vast quantities of stores were in France and these must be disposed of. As the Service of Supply had been built up from the Atlantic to the battle line, now it must be maintained clear to the Rhine and eventually abandoned from that end back to the sea. This meant picking up railroads and other government property, or arranging for their sale. Also, there were not many more ships available for the return trip than for the journey to France. The Navy could furnish some warships for the purpose, but the British government wanted its own transports to carry home its men from Australia, Canada and other colonies.

There were two very distinct periods of the A. E. F.'s homecoming. Until June, 1919 it came home as fast as boats could be gotten together to carry it. From that time on it came home as fast as its work was done.

There was December after the armistice, month of rumor and indecision everywhere, with only a few thousand Yanks getting away. January saw budding hopes in every heart and nearly 200,000 men off' for the homeland. February held January's pace. March began the upward sweep with 214,348 light packs and light hearts mounting the gang plank. April sent 289,112. May's 331,336 included the biggest home-coming week of all, the 14th to the 21st, when 126,392 put to sea. June, month

Right here it was that our ships proved to have worked themselves out or almost out of a job. In July the A. E. F., reduced to 350,000 I'eally began to break up housekeeping. It was much easier to get ships than it was to pry men loose from the S. O. S. and the Rhine to fill them, and sailings slumped to 254,532. The last day of the month, however, saw the A. E. F. well down toward its last hundred thousand and the end of the long journey home in view.

The closing-out period of the A. E. F. really dates from the signing of the Peace Treaty by the Germans. Until that day and that hour, the A. E. F. as a fighting foi-ce, though gi'eatly reduced in numbers, had been painstakingly conserved in all its ability to contribute to the Allied art of persuasion had the Germans declined to sign. There were, to be exact, 190,- 473 Yanks that day on the Rhine ready to plunge foi-ward at a minute's notice, and behind them from Coblenz to the sea were lines of communication and a service of supply practically intact. Gie\Tes could have filled any requisition in three hours. There was on hand about a hundi'ed days' supply of everything that would have been sustaining for our invading forces and conducive to a German change of mind, including American ammunition just beginning to arrive in quantity.

But the Germans signed, and the A. E. F. close-out began. It took time to wind up the affairs of a partnership like the A. E. F. The Yanks who straggled home in July and August and who did it will say so.

By July 1 even the high spots on the old A. E. F. map were getting to be little dots. Chaumont was reduced to a little guard detachment of 200 and was prepared - and anxious - to move on Paris any day. St. Aignan - name that once spelled holy terror to thousands - had become an innocent and harmless village of 75 officers and 775 enlisted men. Le Mans that had known its thousands and tens of thousands, killed cooties ten thousand times as many, sorted out boat loads - of soldiers, not cooties - and sent them on their way exulting, had been pared down to 7,000 on June 25, and vnthin the next 20 days dwindled away to nothing. Is-sur-Tille, not long since the busy foi-warding station of everything from tanks to beans, was little more than a pile of boxes and crates with a little care-taker detachment perched around it - except for its vast German prison camp, and even there the folk of one nation were looking west, of the other as hopefully east. Gievres, the greatest military supply depot in the world, had reduced its force from 22,000 to 5,000 and was beginning to dispose of the 900,000 tons of food and clothing and equipment to France and the newly liberated countries of Europe. Romorantin, Orly and Issoudun, where the A. E. F. sprouted its wings, had been turned over to the French. Tours, the once proud capital of the S. O. S., had reduced its personnel from 14,000 to 8,000 and was preparing to vamoose to Paris (which it never did) sometime during the month. Bourges was to be among the last to cut its personnel, for it was still busy sorting cards. The battle of Paris itself about won, the evacuation of its 21,348 troops began on July 5, immediately after the great celebration of the Fourth.

During July both Bordeaux and St. Nazaire ceased to operate as American ports. Marseille and Le Havre had both been crossed off the A. E. F. map in June, so that Brest alone - Brest of a million going and coming - was left during the closing out period as the American port of embarkation. St. Nazaire sent out her last transport July 22. It was the Kroonland, carrying 4,000 troops and General S. D. Rockenback, commanding officer of the port, and his staff. It was at St. Nazaire that, more than two years before, the first of America's troops to reach France, units of the First Division, had landed.

Communication by American telegraph and telephone between Paris and Coblenz was impossible for the first time since the period of occupation on July 23, and at about the same time the vast network of telegraph, telephone and radio lines which the American Signal Corps had built up in France was turned over to the French.

By September, 1918, practically all American troops had left France excepting a handful attached to headquarters of the quartermaster department. At last the war was really over for the American army.