“Then I make it unanimous. This meeting will now adjourn with all present rising to sing the ‘Star Spangled Banner.’”
CHATEAU MOUCHETON, EPIEDS
July 26th, 1918
Somebody is always taking the joy out of life. We had but three days in our pleasant villages on the Marne when they routed us out and lined us up on a hot, broad highway, where we waited for the French camions which were to take us towards the field of battle. Finally they arrived—a long fleet of light hooded trucks, each driven by a little sun-burned, almond-eyed, square-cheeked Chink—Annamese or Tonquinese, to be more accurate. We sailed in these four-wheeled convoys past what is left of the village of Vaux (the completest job of destruction we had yet seen, the work of our American artillery) through Chateau Thierry, which had only been pecked at in comparison, and northwest to the town of Epieds.
Here we witnessed one of those melodramas of war, for the sight of which most civilians at home would sell, I am sure, one year of their lives. There were four of our observation balloons in the air. Four or five German attacking planes were circling above them intent on their destruction; and a few doughty French flyers were manœuvering to resist them. The convoy paused on the road to watch the result of the combat. In fact, all the roads converging there were brown with canvas hoods and khaki uniforms. Both the stage and the accommodations for spectators were perfect. The spectators arranged themselves along the roadside; the scene was set in the clear sky overhead. Suddenly one of the Germans darted high in the air over the balloon on the extreme left. Anti-aircraft guns barked viciously, and the ether broke out in white and black patches around him, but he managed to place himself where they could not fire at him easily, as he had the balloon in the line of fire from the strongest battery. Then he turned and swooped down on the balloon, swift as a hawk at its prey. He swerved upwards as he passed it and all four Germans soared rapidly upwards and away. We saw something drop suddenly from the balloon, which rapidly developed into a parachute with two observers clinging to it. A thin wisp of smoke which we could detect from the balloon then burst into flames, and the blazing material began to drop towards the parachute. But the automobile to which the silk observation tower was attached began to move, and the fiery mass missed the parachute on the way down. We were glad that the observers had escaped, but we felt that in this first round of our new battle we had to concede first blood to the enemy.
We hiked from Epieds—a pleasant walk—to this fine chateau, the main building of which is occupied by French Staff Officers of a Corps d’Armée. Our headquarters is in a large outbuilding, the men being in the nearby woods. I have been circulating around amongst our 1st Battalion and also the Ohios on my own particular concerns. Took supper with Company D. Buck is away, as Major Donovan has taken his four company commanders on a reconnoitering expedition, since his battalion is to be first in. Had supper with Lieutenants Connelly, Daly and Burke. Daly is a fine, intelligent active youth, graduate of Holy Cross and of the Old Irish 9th Mass. Burke got his training in the regular army. He is a soldier of the silent determined kind, and a very efficient officer, with no blamed nonsense about him. The other three of us, of a more normal racial type, cannot see any sense in being too sensible. Connelly winked at me and began to “draw” Burke by expressing envy of the lucky birds who had gotten orders to go back to the States. Daly played up strongly, and Burke’s face showed ever-increasing exasperation and disgust. Finally he blurted: “Father, why don’t you shut these slackers up? We’re here to see this thing through, and such talk is bad for morale.” When I laughed as loud as the rest he grinned and said: “Oh, I know that if they gave you fellows New York City with Boston to boot, neither of you would go back.” A true statement, as I know. I paid for my supper by hearing their confessions.
Later
The reconnoitering party came in for a severe shelling, and Buck has gone back wounded and Hutchinson gassed. Donovan is back here, also gassed, but ready to go in again if they want his battalion, though his orders to relieve the French have been countermanded. While I am writing, a polite French Staff Officer came in with the word that the original orders should stand. Donovan buckled his harness on anew and went out to lead his battalion forward once more. I posted myself in the gateway of the Chateau and gave absolution to each Company as it passed. Then I hastened out on the main road, and made similar announcements to the Ohios, as that regiment moved up to the front. There is every evidence that we are in for a battle, big and bloody.
COURPOIL
July 27th, 1918