Father Duffy's story

by Francis Patrick Duffy

During the afternoon of the 12th the brigade P. C. was moved to Essey, regimental P. C. to Pannes. The 1st battalion organized their position just south of the Bois de Thiaucourt which was held by patrols who took more prisoners; the 2nd battalion about 1,000 yards further back on the reverse slope of a hill; and the 3rd battalion just outside the town.

The next day’s task was still easier. Donovan’s men jumped off at 6:10 A. M. with Companies B and C in the lead and A and D in support. Their patrols to the front at the time reported no contact with the enemy. Major Reilley with the 3rd Battalion was sent as Division Reserve for the 1st Division but was later ordered back. The 1st Battalion, followed by the 2nd, pushed through the Bois de Thiaucourt and the Bois de Beney capturing a couple of prisoners and meeting with no resistance. At the Sebastopol Farm a woman told them that the Germans were just ahead and retreating. The advance of our men was somewhat delayed by a gun in our supporting artillery which kept firing short and endangering the men, as one of the greatest difficulties in a rapid advance such as was made at St. Mihiel is that of maintaining liaison with the rear. By half past nine they had captured the enemy’s supply depot along the railway track, with the neighboring village of St. Benoit and the Chateau St. Benoit. It was a foot race all the way between the four infantry regiments and our fellows claim they won it by a good half hour, but I haven’t heard yet what the others have to say. I only know that if I ever have to follow up our infantry again in such an attack I am going to wait for an express train.

One thing that stands out most impressively in the memories of the 165th regarding this action is the devotion and courage of one of our former commanding officers. The dugout where Lieutenant Colonel Donovan established his temporary headquarters on the night of September 11-12th, was very small and very crowded. Every officer commanding a unit of the auxiliary arms crowded into it to avoid the nasty drizzle and darkness outside. The room was full of smoke, some of which managed to get outside as officer after officer came in to report the position of his unit. It was like the headquarters of an army corps. Parker of the one-pound cannons was perched on the upper deck of a bunk flanked by Siebert of the machine guns and a French Lieutenant who had come in to report that the accompanying tanks were ready. Lieutenants Allen and Betty were trying to carry out Donovan’s numerous orders. Captain Stone of the 149th Field Artillery pushed his way into the crowded room and reported to Donovan that his battery had been detailed to roll forward with the assaulting infantry. There was some conversation between them as to the conditions of the roads near Seicheprey and the possibility of having the battery follow close behind the assault, the number of available rounds of ammunition with the guns and the chance of delay in getting them forward over No Man’s Land. The conversation continued for a few minutes and was ended by Donovan saying, “Well, we have not done it before but we’ll give it a whirl this time.”

Just then Major Lawrence opened the door and called “Colonel, here’s an old friend of yours.” It was Colonel Hine. Wet and muddy and tired but evidently delighted to be back with the old regiment. Donovan gave him an enthusiastic welcome as did all the rest, although Betty whispered to Allen in a humorous grouch “I’ll bet Donovan will want us to get a room and bath for him”—referring to the Colonel’s practice of inviting everyone in to dinner or to share quarters no matter where he was or what he might have, and then putting it up to the staff to provide. Everybody naturally thought that Colonel Hine had come to view the battle from the regimental observation post on the hill near the Bois de Jury but later in the night when they moved down to the parallel of departure Colonel Hine was still along, sharing the experiences of the rest of them, stumbling into shell holes and tripping over barbed wire in the darkness. When they went over in the morning he was still there, and with the first wave; and all through that day’s fight and the next, he fought along by the side of his old men, who conceived an admiration for him in their loyal souls that nothing will ever efface.

Colonel Hine had obtained leave from his duties in order to satisfy his desire of going through a big battle with his beloved 69th. It was a unique compliment to the regiment itself. The regiment appreciates it as such, but it dwells more on the soldierly ardor and high courage of its first Colonel, who, though he had been transferred to less dangerous duties, found his way back to us and fought as a volunteer private in the regiment he had commanded. Such deeds as this are set forth in the story-books of history as an inspiration to the youth of the land.

In picking up stories of the fight I got one from Lieutenant Allen which I have jotted down as he gave it to me. “We came in front of Essey. Here there was a hill marked on the aeroplane photographs and maps which were issued before the attack as ‘Dangerous, go to the right and left.’ As we came over the top of this hill and advanced on its forward slope the battalion drew machine gun fire from the enemy guns disposed in pits in front of the village. I was out in front in a shell-hole with two snipers. One of them I sent back to Donovan with a message; the other began firing on the enemy who now began to run back into the village. In an adjoining shell-hole a few feet away, a soldier from our battalion sold a German Luger Pistol to an officer from some other regiment who had wandered from his sector, for thirty-five francs. A French tank caught up to us at this stage of the fight and moved down the hill until it was in front of the shell-hole where I was. I rapped on the side of his turret and called to the pilot, who reversed the turret and while the bullets slapped the side of his tank, opened the window. He was a dapper little Frenchman with the ends of his moustache waxed in points, and was clean and smiling. I gave him a target in front of the town and he fired several round at a mass of retreating Boches hurrying over the next hill. Opening the window again, he smiled and said ‘How’s that?’ then he went lumbering on.”

As the first battalion was making its advance during the second day it was held up in front of Sebastopol Farm by our own barrage which had not yet lifted. While waiting there they saw a French peasant woman with a small boy grasping her hand running through the shell fire from the direction of the farm. When questioned, she was in a great rage against the Boches and reported that a battalion of their troops had evacuated St. Benoit during the night. She also gave the welcome information that there were supplies of food in the farm and was very grateful to the Americans for releasing her from four years of captivity. She was the only woman that we saw actually on the battlefield during the war.

When our fellows reached St. Benoit they found that the Germans had started a fire in the Chateau, but it was quickly extinguished. The church too, had been set on fire and was beyond saving. When Jim Barry of C. Company saw it blazing he shouted “Glory be to God, those devils have burnt the church. Let’s see what we can save out of it.” With Tierney and Boyle and others following after he ran into the burning building and carried out statues and candelabra which they deposited carefully outside. Having finished their pious work they began to remember that they were hungry. Barry took from his musette bag some German potatoes which he had stored there in place of grenades that had been used up in action, and said, “Well we have done what we could, and now we’ve got a good fire here, and we might as well use it.” They stuck the potatoes on the ends of their bayonets and roasted them in the embers. Just then another party came along with some bottled beer that they had salvaged from the German supplies in Pannes, so they picnicked merrily in the square in front of the blazing temple.

It was well for all of us that the Germans had departed so suddenly that they left supplies behind, because it was an almost impossible task to get the kitchens and ration wagons through, on account not only of the poor condition of the roads but of the congestion of traffic. We never saw a worse jam in the whole war than on the main road from Seicheprey to Pannes—tanks, guns and caissons, ammunition wagons, trucks, infantry trains, all trying to get forward along one narrow road, and the whole line held up if a single vehicle got stuck; mounted men and foot soldiers trailed along the edge of this procession often having to flounder through the swamps of the Rupt de Mad.

The situation became dangerous towards evening of the second day when a large squadron of enemy battle planes swooped down on our own, and after the fiercest contest I have ever seen in the air drove two of ours to earth and regained the mastery. They did not, however, resort to bombing, satisfying themselves with reporting conditions to their own artillery. Our wagon train had a most uncomfortable half hour as it passed along the road between Beney and St. Benoit. Shell after shell came hissing towards them, but luckily the German guns were firing just a trifle short. If the shells had carried another fifty yards the train would have been wiped out; but the drivers sat steady on their boxes and kept the mules going at even pace until they reached their destination.