No two Pioneer regiments were quite so famed as hard workers and hard fighters as the 801st and the 803rd. Both shared the toil and danger of other regiments, but both seemed to have been determined to fight for right treatment, although it meant continuous fighting. At Brest, we saw evidence of the labors of the 801st in the transformation of Pontanezen from a mudhole to the cleanest and most modern of camps. These men came from Indiana and Kentucky, and the regiment was formed at Camp Taylor, largely of the 157th and 159th Depot Brigades. The Y. M. C. A. gained two secretaries from it, Sergeant Majors Eggleson and Watkins, who gave fine service to their former comrades. Regimental Sergeant Major U. S. Donaldson of this organization was among the brightest and most popular of the soldier-students who went to the British Universities.
Of all the Pioneer regiments, we knew the 803rd best—those “terrible” Illinois lads, one thousand of whom came from Chicago. In fact they were our own regiment, for they christened us godmother with water that flowed straight down from the far-famed Alps. It was for some of the men of this regiment that we first cooked sausages and pancakes in the Leave Area; for its band that we made our first ice cream there. It was there that group after group told us of their lonely life at St. Maurice, Vigneulies, and other points near Verdun. Afterward, we were sent to serve them, but, alas, it was too late, as they had entrained. However, we caught up with the whole regiment at Pontanezen, and there, instead of our serving them, they served us. True, we gave them ice cream, lemonade, cookies, “movies” and books. But whatever of beauty and comfort came to the Y hut known as “Soldiers’ Rest” at Camp Pontanezen, was largely due to the energy, time and money invested by the 803rd in its remodeling. From Company M, with its wonderful sergeants from the regular army, always alert to help us, we were supplied the finest “detail” for work about the hut to be found in all France. But the volunteer details were no less fine, and we can never forget Taylor and James who constituted themselves our protectors as well as hut carpenters.
Men of the Pioneer Infantries
1. Sergeant Sheridan. 2. Sergeant Roach. 3. Sergeant Chapman. 4. Sergeant Jeton. 5. Sergeant Dawnson. 6. Sergeant Gowdy. 7. Sergeant-Major Hardy. 8. Sergeant-Major H. L. Coverdale with Sergeants. 9. Sergeant Blackwell.
We could fill a whole book with the names of men of this regiment who throng our memory. There was Gowdy, Griffin, Williams, Jetton, Sheridan, Harrison and Matthews all soldiers, but gentlemen first; there was Curtis Kennedy, whose young face shone as he talked of his wife, mother and baby back home; there was Sergeant Washington, who knew so well the value of a balanced menu, and gave us our best mess in France, then sailed away, leaving us to our leanest days. But memory clings closest to the one, who in addition to the loneliness and hardship of life at the front, had bitter gall sent him from home to drink. For a time it seemed too much to endure, and he was ready for the plunge of despair. Slowly but surely, we drew that man back from the precipice, and lingered near till he was on sure ground, and the strength of the real soldier had come once again into his veins. What joy to know that for him there is still the grim determination to walk the better way.
One afternoon, in our hut at the port, a whistle sounded and a sharp command followed, “All men of the 804th report to their barracks at once.” What did it matter that the most interesting pictures imaginable were being passed over the screen! The “804th,” with its plenty of brain and plenty of brawn—who had now and then sent an overbearing military police into deep repose—the “804th,” with the isolations and hardships of the front still haunting it, was going home that July day. Oh, the gladness of them for this hard-earned reward! It was so contagious that it filled not only their souls but those of their comrades of other organizations, waiting for the same message.
Some one said that the order went forth, “only handsome men for the 806th.” Certain it was that everywhere they went in France one heard their good looks mentioned. But it in no wise spoiled them for the immense amount of work they did. At the front, at Montrichard, at Orley, and last near Paris, where they helped to build the celebrated Pershing Stadium, they carried themselves with honor. Many of the men of this regiment, too, sought for training and commissions, but were told that they were too badly needed by their regiment to encourage any changes.
The “811th” and “814th” had their regiments split up from the beginning and used at many points—chiefly in the S. O. S. We believe that some companies of the “814th” saw service in England. These men were rushed across the ocean at the last moment, but they did great service in salvaging and reconstruction after the Armistice came. We recall an amusing incident in connection with one company of the “814th.” It had but recently reached our area, and was at mess in one of the huge mess halls, constructed towards the end of the war. We were bravely plunging through the deep mud so common to the camps in France, and wearing high boots, the novelty of which had long since been forgotten. We were startled by a sharp whistle, followed by the camp expression—“Oo-la-la!” that brought men and mess kits to the doors and windows. One exclaimed, “It’s a genuine brown!” while another in most sympathetic voice added, “And it’s got on boots too!” For a moment embarrassment swept over us, but we knew how genuine was the surprise of colored soldiers at first sight of their own women in France, so we laughed back and waved them a welcome to the Y hut. From the “811th,” Sergeant Ulysses Young, and from the “814th,” Sergeant Everett Brewington, were among those who went to King’s College in England.
We had been waiting among the ruins of Verdun a whole week, by order of the Regional Secretary of the Y. M. C. A.; he was trying to convince the colonel in charge of Camp Romagne that women would help to better the conditions in that camp. But the colonel was not easily convinced. He told us afterward, that it was not colored women, but just women that he felt should not be with the soldiers in the camps. “War was stern and men ought to be hard at such times.” He was not alone in this opinion, for not only did colonels feel that way, but many soldiers and welfare workers were of that opinion. However, we finally rode from Verdun to Romagne in a wonderfully uncertain Ford, through thirty-six kilometres of blinding dust that bit and stung for several days. But it was all well worth while, for it gave us the chance to share the life of the 815th and 816th Pioneers, with the labor battalions who were there in the camp, and that of some of the companies of the “813th” who came later.