CHAPTER XVI.
ENTER THE AMERICANS.
How the Germans were misled about the Americans—Early American fighters—The arrivals in May, 1918—American equipment—Our relations with the Americans and what they thought of us—The Portuguese.
There are many claimants for the honour of being the War Winner. When I was in Italy in February, 1918, I found a very genuine belief there that the Italians were the genuine war winners; that they brought the decisive weight to bear. Without denying the very useful effect that Italian neutrality had in the first stages of the war, and Italian participation at a later date, I think it would be hard to convince, say, the French of the soundness of the Italian claim. The British might be more inclined to agree; for they still keep up the curious pose of being a poor feckless people who never do anything or know anything. Another claimant for the pride of first place in the Grand Alliance is Greece; and I believe that Portugal has some idea of putting in a claim.
But on the whole, taking all the circumstances into account and reckoning not war services only but war effect, the actual final blow to the Germans' hopes was delivered when the United States of America declared war. It was when Germany made that declaration necessary, in spite of the sincere wish of the Americans to keep out of the war, that all hope vanished of Germany securing an arranged peace. From that moment it was clear that ultimately she would have to take exactly what was handed out to her at the conclusion of the war.
It is hard to believe that the German leaders ever seriously believed the stuff and nonsense that they gave out to comfort their people on the subject of American participation in the war. But having blundered by bringing the United States in they had to try to cover up their blunders.
German diplomacy was not without successes of a kind in the preparation and prosecution of the war. If it is the function of diplomacy to plot murders and strikes and arsons in neutral countries, to bribe Oriental despots such as those of Turkey and Bulgaria into betraying their people, German diplomacy had a proud record. But concerning the sentiments and opinions of honourable communities German diplomacy showed always an abysmal ignorance. In no respect was this more clear than in its dealings with the United States of America.
At first German diplomacy adopted the idea which was embodied in the German phrase "those idiotic Yankees"—the idea that the United States was a kind of Wild West Show, whose simpleton rulers could be fooled without trouble by the intelligent, the super-intelligent, Germans. When that idea was exploded, the next to take its place was equally foolish—that anyhow the antagonism of the United States did not matter, for she would not make war, and if she made war the effort would be so feeble as not to be worth considering.
Then when the grim shadow of the great American preparation was already over the German despotism, and the greatest single white nation of the world was seen preparing its mighty strength to the full, the German people were asked to take comfort from yet another delusion, that the American nation would prove to be a "quitter," that it would be frightened off the field by the German offensive of the Spring of 1918. The Hamburger Echo voiced that delusion when it announced: "It is curious that at this critical moment American war experts are reported to be planning an inspection trip of the Front. It looks as though American capitalists were growing nervous. The dollar-republic has stolen ships which ensure her a great Fleet, but American capital is not unlimited, hence the liquidation of the war may be contemplated."
How different the truth about that "inspection trip" which had the effect, certainly, of impressing the American Staff with the extreme seriousness of the campaign, but led to the result not of "quitting" but of brigading the American troops temporarily with those of the Allies. It was an instance of a sensible sacrifice of national vanity that has probably no parallel in history—that decision of the Americans to allow their soldiers to fight under British and French flags while they learned their business.
Unhappy German people to have been fed by their leaders with such delusions! The United States a "quitter"! Had any German read the history of the 18th and 19th centuries—heard of Washington, of Hamilton, of Lincoln? If the German had searched back only so far as 1861 he would have found that the nation which he was told might throw up the sponge at the first hint of hardship and danger, faced a war which probably, for nerve strain and call for grim resolution, surpassed even this great war. The United States had then to fight not a foreign foe but domestic discord. It had to set its teeth through a series of great military disasters. It had to hold firmly to a forlorn hope, whilst it was faced by the ever-present prospect of foreign interference. No nation in modern times has been put to a harsher test of courage and resolution than the United States in 1861 and the following year. No nation in history showed a more indomitable courage. And this was the nation that the German leaders would fain persuade their people was likely to prove a "quitter!" I ventured to say at the time that before the German military despotism was through with the war it would recognise that the reluctance of the United States to enter the war would be matched by the reluctance of the United States to go out of the war until its purpose was finally accomplished.
To tell the story of the American participation in the war does not come within the province of this work, but some of the facts can be told of that most dramatic feature of the last stages of the Great War.
There was a very elaborate and very successful mystification of the enemy over the time, the extent, and the equipment of American arrivals on the Western Front. The American "Intelligence," in co-operation with our own and the French Intelligence Branches, managed to surround these matters with so much mystery that some of our own high Staff Officers never knew the exact position, and strangely over-estimated the strength of the American Force on the Western Front. There is good reason to believe that the German High Command was completely deceived and found its difficulties increased accordingly.
From almost the first day of the war there were a few individual Americans fighting for the Allies. In September, 1914, I encountered two personally with the British Army, and I suppose the actual total number was some hundreds. Later a great many came over with the Canadian contingents; and there was also a flying unit, which made a fine reputation for itself. This began with a small group of Americans in the Foreign Legion of the French Army. In the spring of 1915 the formation of an American squadrilla was decided upon. At first the French Minister of War was not inclined to sanction the proposition, but afterwards decided that no international law prevented Americans from enlisting voluntarily, in spite of their country's neutrality. The squadrilla was to be known as the "Escadrille Américaine," and to be commanded by a French captain. On November 16th, 1916, Colonel Barès, Chief of the French Aviation at General Headquarters, decided that the name "Escadrille Américaine" must be dropped and the official military number, N124, used in future. The reason given was that Bernstorff had protested to Washington "that Americans were fighting on the French Front, that the French communiqués contained the name 'Escadrille Américaine,' and that these volunteer Americans pushed their brazenness to the point of having a red Sioux Indian in full war-paint depicted on their machines." Captain Berthaud, at the Ministry of War, suggested the adoption of the name "Escadrille de Volontaires," but the name finally adopted was "Lafayette Escadrille." More than 200 American volunteers entered the Lafayette Escadrille before America joined in the war. Some remained in the squadrilla, others were transferred to various French units, where they frequently distinguished themselves by the brilliance of their exploits.
All these troops, however, were strictly unofficial and of course discountenanced by the American Government. After the American declaration of war, American help was confined for a long time to labour units, forestry and railway workers. It was not until May, 1918, that there was any really considerable American fighting force in France, and not until June, 1918, that it began to have any weight in the fighting line, and then only as units brigaded with British and French troops. It was the usual plan—a plan made possible by the admirable and business-like lack of false pride among the Americans—to split up their troops among other troops, allow them thus to be "blooded," and after experience as platoons, companies, brigades, to retire to their own training grounds and form "pukka" Divisions of their own.
By April 25th, 1918, there were 12,700 American troops in our lines in France, by May 25th 79,000, by June 25th 188,000. Then the Second Army Corps was formed and absorbed 95,000 men. The May, 1918, programme provided for the arrival of six American Divisions within the British zone of operations, and there actually were 108,921 American troops attached to the British Army at the end of that month. The British Army took responsibility for the feeding and equipment of these troops. The system was adopted of assigning to each American Division as it arrived a British "mother" Division, to see it through its early troubles of transport, equipment, food and accommodation. The system worked admirably and there was very little friction in connection with the settling down of the Americans. Yet the task of adjustment was not easy. The American troops had to be equipped with almost everything except uniforms, badges and caps. The things they had were almost as much a cause of trouble as the things they had not. The American troops had to be gently separated from huge kits of unnecessary articles at the same time as they were provided with necessities.
Judging from the mountainous kits of the American soldiers as they arrived it was thought that each man carried a roll-top desk, a typewriter, and a dictagraph in his roll. It was found impossible for the men to march with their kits, though they were splendid physical types and full of keenness. I saw one Division disentrain at a station on Lines of Communication and begin a march to its camp, a distance of about ten miles. Before half the distance had been covered a great proportion of the men had had to give up their kits to be stored by the road side.
One American camp was formed at Samer near Montreuil; and the town's name was pronounced near enough to "Sammie" to make it easy to persuade some of the soldiers that it had been named in their honour.
The Americans at first had a natural love for their own methods and their own wonderful kit; but they were very soon convinced of what were the practical needs of the campaign and came in time to a whole-hearted admiration of British methods, which was perhaps the finest testimonial that G.H.Q. could have had. These Americans coming from a great business country confessed quite frankly that the "effete" Britisher had "got them all beat" on questions of supply and transport; and they took over our system in almost every detail.
Perhaps some of the points that arose will be of interest. The great underclothing controversy was one of the most amusing. The British Army had evolved a very practical system of keeping the troops in clean underclothing without adding to the weight of their kits. A soldier went up to the trenches or to his unit wearing a clean suit of underclothes. On the first opportunity, usually within a week, the soldier went back (on relief if he were an infantry man, on roster if he were a special unit man) to the Baths which were set up in every Divisional area. Here he stripped for a hot bath, and whilst he was in the bath his uniform was cleaned, deprived of any insect population, and pressed, and his underclothing was taken away to the laundry. He never saw that underclothing again but drew a new suit, or a clean suit, as he went out of the baths; and so he marched off spruce and smart. The suit of underclothing he had left behind was thoroughly disinfected, washed, repaired if necessary, and went then into the general stock to be issued again.
At first the Americans could not see that such a system would work. Their idea was for every man to carry three suits of underclothing, one on his body two in his kit. Presumably he was expected to change in the midst of the ghastly mud of a Flanders trench. Also presumably he was expected to carry about his dirty suits with him, which showed a curious degree of trust in human nature. It was objected to the British system that "all men were not the same size," and in response it was pointed out that neither were all the suits of underclothing kept in stock at Divisional Baths, but that with a fair attention to the law of averages and a reasonable surplus allowance no thin man had to go away with a fat man's suit and no tall man with a short man's. The British system was finally adopted and won full American approval.
Boots caused another difficulty. The British issue was one pair per man; the American, two, the spare pair being carried in the kit. The Americans finally agreed that if they could get for their men boots of British quality (which was conspicuously better than the American quality) the one pair issue would suffice.
It would be impossible to praise too highly the common-sense and civility of the American liaison officers who had to argue out these points with our officers. They were never unreasonable, and were very prompt in crediting our officers with politeness and good-will. That Americans and British can get on very well together this campaign has proved. I think that in every case where an American and a British Division were thrown together they parted company with a marked increase of mutual good-will and respect.
Optimism was the prevailing fault in the American organisation. They thought that the fighting was a much simpler matter than it actually proved to be. They thought a man could and would carry an unduly heavy pack. They were very optimistic in the matter of accoutrements and were anxious to use their own accoutrements when they had a barely sufficient supply for the strength of a unit, and no reserve. They were ultimately convinced that accoutrements in warfare have a way of disappearing, and without a strong reserve no item of accoutrement can be kept up. When there was no reserve of some item, British accoutrements were substituted. It is a testimony to the quality of British equipment that the American troops showed a desire to be provided with British articles in substitution for their own, even when the change was not necessary. British puttees and British breeches were cases in point.
The American troops got British rations, except that coffee took the place of tea. One coffee-grinder per 250 men was provided. Perhaps civilian England was puzzled over the fact that in 1918 it was impossible to buy a coffee-grinder in this country. Now they know why. They had all been bought up for the American troops. In all things G.H.Q. did its very best for the Americans. They had a fancy for an increased scale of Machine-Guns; the Machine-Guns were found for them, though they were a precious and scarce commodity at the time and we could not give our own Divisions the increased scale. To provide horse transport for the Americans we stripped our Field Artillery of two horses out of every ammunition team of six. The general principle was that if the Americans wanted anything it had to be found somehow and found in a hurry. Probably we won an undeserved reputation for slickness in some matters (such as printing Army publications), for it was the established rule to give American orders priority.
American liaison officers at G.H.Q. "made good" with the British Staff very quickly. They had a downright earnestness of manner which was very engaging. The American Staff seemed to have been chosen strictly for efficiency reasons and, there being no obstacles of established custom to overcome, the best men got to the top very quickly. The appointment of Mr. Frederick Palmer, the famous war correspondent, to a high post on General Pershing's Intelligence Staff was an example of their way of doing things. Colonel Palmer as war correspondent had seen much of this and of many other wars. For his particular post he was an ideal man. But it would be difficult to imagine him stepping at once into so high a position in a European Army.
American rank marks were puzzling to British officers at first. An American liaison officer obliged me with a mnemonic aid to their understanding.
"You just reckon that you are out to rob a hen-roost. Right. You climb up one bar; that's a lieutenant. You climb up two bars: that's a captain. When you get up to the chickens, that's the colonel" (the colonel's badge was an eagle on the shoulder-straps). "Above the chicken there's the stars" (a star was the badge of a general).
To the same officer I was indebted for a flattering summing up of British character.
"I don't say you British people are over-polite. But you are reliable. Go into a pow-wow and a British officer may strike you as a bit surly. But if he says he'll do a thing you can reckon that thing done and no need to worry. Some other people are very polite; and they say awfully nicely that they'll do anything and everything you ask; and six months after you find nothing has been done."
The Americans, when they got into action, first as auxiliaries of British and French Divisions, then in their own Army organisation, were fine fighters. Their splendid physique made them very deadly in a close tussle, and they had a business-like efficiency in battle that did not appeal to the Boche. A favourite American weapon at close quarters was a shot gun sawn off short at the barrel. It was of fearful effect. The enemy had the sublime impudence to protest against this weapon as "contrary to the usages of civilised warfare." This was cool indeed from the folk who made us familiar with the murder of civil hostages, the use of civilians as fire-screens, and the employment of poison-gas as methods of warfare. The Americans answered the impudent protest with peremptory firmness, and kept the shot gun in use.
It was stated, too, and generally credited, though this matter did not come within my personal observation, that the American Divisions in their sector set up and maintained a law in regard to Machine-Gun fire. They did not consider it fair war that a machine-gunner in an entrenched position should keep on firing to the very last moment and then expect to be allowed to surrender peaceably.
The Americans played the game, but they did not play it on "soft" lines, and the enemy soon got a very wholesome respect for them. There was, in the early stages of the American participation, an evident attempt on the part of the German Intelligence to encourage an "atrocity" campaign against the Americans. German atrocities had a way of casting their shadows before. A usual method was to accuse Germany's foes in advance of doing what the Germans proposed to undertake themselves. That was the way in which Germany ushered in her lawless use of prisoners of war in the firing line, and her enslavement of the civil population of occupied Belgium and France. When the German Press engaged in "propaganda" work on the subject of the American forces coming into action, it took the line of representing the Americans as altogether despicable and murderous adventurers, who had come into the war to kill Germans without any reason whatsoever and when taken prisoners wondered "that they were not shot on the spot, as the French had told them they would be." As one German paper put it: "To the question why America carries on the war against Germany they knew no answer. One can feel for our soldiers who become enraged against this alien hand which fights against us for no reason. Our men believe the French fight for glory and to wipe out the stain of 1870, that Britain struggles for mastery on the sea and to prove which of the two giants is the stronger. But the American! Our field-greys despise him and do not recognise him as a worthy opponent, even though he may fight bravely."
But that sort of talk was soon dropped—as was the suggestion that American prisoners should get "special treatment" when captured. It was rather amusing to watch from our Intelligence side the manœuvres of the well-drilled German Press on the subject of the Americans. Early in 1918 there was a general disposition in the German papers to write of the Americans as tomahawkers and "scalpers" and so on. Then we learned from our tapping of German field reports that officers commanding German units complained that this sort of propaganda was having such a bad effect on their men, that they "got the wind up" as soon as they knew that Americans were in front of them. As a result a great silence suddenly fell upon the German papers on this point.
After the Americans had formed their own Army system we did not hear so much of them at Montreuil. But they were naturally always in close touch with G.H.Q., and to the very end the British Administrative services were able to give a helping hand to the American allies.
The Portuguese contingent remained with the British Army to the end, and it did very well, as might have been expected; for as a race the Portuguese have a proud record of heroism and knightly adventure. In the Indies, the South Pacific, and the Americas, Portuguese valour has left imperishable monuments. The British Empire in particular owes much to such great sea captains as the Portuguese Vasco di Gama (who discovered the sea route to India), Torres (who discovered and named Australia), Magellan, Quiros, and Menezes.
We heard much amusing gossip at G.H.Q. from the soldiers at the Front, who, after a critical weighing of the facts, arrived at the conclusion that the Portuguese were "good sports." That conclusion was not come to all at once. The British soldier is very conservative, and he was inclined to be, for some reason or other, critical of his new allies at first. In time "Tommy" forgave the Portuguese for having names "that sounded like blooming prayers," which was one of his early reasons for doubt. Here is one incident that helped to determine a favourable verdict:
A forward post held by the Portuguese was subjected to a furious bombardment late one afternoon by the Germans. After a while a polite note came down from the Portuguese officer in charge of the sector informing the British Commander that: "The enemy are heavily bombarding our position. Accordingly we have evacuated it."
There was some inclination to criticise; it was not the withdrawal; the best soldiers on earth have to withdraw sometimes. But the polite little note with its "accordingly" suggested what it was not intended to suggest, and what was not the fact at all. However, plans were at once put in hand for artillery action, preparatory to restoring the position next morning. But some time after nightfall those plans were put aside on receipt of another polite little note:
"The enemy has ceased bombarding our position. Accordingly we have re-occupied it."
When the full facts of the incident came out there was a cheer for the Portuguese. It seems that the officer in charge was a bit of a tactician and knew his men well. The post he had to hold was very advanced and poorly fortified. When the enemy began to flood it with shells he withdrew his garrison to a safe spot that he had selected, and waited until nightfall. Then, without any artillery preparation, he led his men forward and, with the bayonet and those deadly little daggers that the Portuguese soldiers carried, restored the position.
An earlier incident of the Portuguese co-operation was humorous in another way. "Tommy" had, of course, found a name for the new arrivals, a name which was more humorous than respectful. Like all Tommy's word-coinages it was a good one and spread into common use. High Authority, fearful that offence would be given, issued an order, a very portentous order, which noticed with reprobation "the habit which had grown up" of referring to "our noble allies" as "the —— ——." The Order concluded with the usual warning of disciplinary action. It was to be circulated secretly by word of mouth from officer to officer, but some unfortunate adjutant circulated it in battalion orders so that all could read—including the Portuguese.