Father Duffy's story

by Francis Patrick Duffy

Lieutenant Colonel Donovan was assigned by Colonel Mitchell to have general charge of the situation at the front while he with Captain Merle-Smith as operations officer and Captain Meaney as Adjutant, handled it from the P. C. in Exermont. Lieutenant Lawrence Irving, in charge of the Intelligence Section, was at the observation post.

Our artillery preparations for the assault were begun at 3:30 on the morning of October 14th. Our brigade, in touch with the 82nd Division on our left, jumped off at 8:30 in the same morning. In our regiment Companies I and M were in advance, with K and L in immediate support, a company of the Wisconsin Machine Gunners being with them and our 2nd Battalion supplying details for carrying ammunition, etc. The front wave had not gotten well started before it was evident that the enemy were expecting an attack, and from the beginning our men went forward through steady shell fire which increased as their purpose became more clearly manifested. Two enemy aeroplanes flew along the lines of our Division discharging machine guns and no doubt keeping their own artillery posted on the results of their fire. But, in spite of losses, our men kept going forward, stimulated by the encouragement of Major Reilley and his Company Commanders Walsh, Guignon, Given and Rowley. They had about two miles to go before reaching the enemy’s wire.

Captain Rowley with Company M was to the left alongside of the Ohios and Captain Michael Walsh to the right, and at the beginning in touch with the Alabamas, a touch which was soon lost, as the latter regiment came to close grips with the enemy at a point further south than our point of attack, and our companies pushing northward found it difficult to maintain liaison with them. The amount of time assigned to the 84th Brigade to capture Hill 288, the Tuilerie Farm, and the defenses at the base of the Cote de Chatillon was not sufficient for the magnitude of the task that was given them to accomplish. By noon their line had passed Hill 288 and was close to the enemy outposts, but at that time our Brigade was already at their Second Objective. From the outset the most destructive fire we had to undergo came from machine guns firing from this Cote to our right and enfilading our whole line; and the further forward we got the more destructive it became. By 1 o’clock half of the third battalion had been killed or wounded. Colonel Donovan, with Lieutenants Wheatley and Betty, and Major Reilley with Lieutenant Heller and Sergeant Courtney, were all over the field sustaining the spirits of the men.

There is no tougher experience than that of advancing over a considerable distance under fire. The trouble is that the men are being shot down by an enemy whom they cannot see. They reply with their rifles and machine guns, but have only the vaguest hope that they are accomplishing anything more than disconcerting their opponents. When a soldier gets where he can see the foe he develops a sort of hunter’s exhilaration. His blood warms up and he actually forgets that the other fellow is shooting at him. Advancing in the open against trenches he has only the sensations of the hunted. Heavy fire begins to rain around them, men are hit, the line drops, each man in whatever shelter he can find. Then the order is given to rise and go forward again; spurts of dust are kicked up, the first three or four men to advance walk into the line of bullets and go down before they have gone ten feet. And the others who have seen them fall must go straight ahead and take that same deadly chance, never knowing when they themselves will stop a German missile. It takes undaunted leadership and tremendous courage to keep going forward under such conditions.

That leadership the men possessed in their battalion commander and those under him. Captain Rowley, a quiet, determined man, kept M Company moving forward until he was knocked senseless by a tree which was blown down upon him through the explosion of a shell. His place was taken by Lieutenant Collier, who was shortly afterwards also wounded, and Lieutenant Don Elliott found himself in command. Company I was led by Captain Mike Walsh until he received a long tearing wound through the arm. He left his Company under command of Lieutenant Roderick Hutchinson, who led the company until he too was wounded, and started back alone to the Dressing-Station under the slope of the hill, to have his wound bandaged up. On his way back to the line he was hit once more and instantly killed. Nobody knew that he was killed until his body was discovered by Edward Healy, who buried him; and was shortly afterwards killed himself. It was well for his Company that they did not know the misfortune they had sustained because no loss in our whole campaign was more deeply felt than that of this rugged, whole-souled soldier and leader of men. Companies L and K, under Captain Given and Lieutenant Guignon, were also having their troubles, especially Company K under the daring leadership of its youthful commander. In all of the companies there was great loss amongst our old time non-coms as they moved around looking after the men instead of taking shelter with them.

But the outstanding figure in the mind of every officer and man was Lieutenant Colonel William J. Donovan. Donovan is one of the few men I know who really enjoys a battle. He goes into it in exactly the frame of mind that he had as a college man when he marched out on the gridiron before a football game, and his one thought throughout is to push his way through. “Cool” is the word the men use of him and “Cool” is their highest epithet of praise for a man of daring, resolution and indifference to danger. He moved out from the Cote de Maldah at the beginning of the attack with his headquarters group, just behind the supporting companies—his proper place, though he had no intention of remaining there if he could do more efficient work further forward. He had prepared himself for the task he had determined on in a characteristic way. Instead of taking off all signs of rank, as officers are supposed to do to avoid being made a mark for sharp-shooters, he had donned a Sam Brown belt with double shoulder straps, so that none of his men could miss knowing who he was; that the enemy also would pick him out was to him a matter of serene indifference. As soon as the advance began to slow up under the heavy losses, he passed to the front line of the leading elements. The motto of the Donovan clan must be “Come on.” It was “Come on, fellows, it’s better ahead than it is here,” or “Come on, we’ll have them on the run before long,” or with his arm across the shoulder of some poor chap who looked worried, “Come on, old sport, nobody in this Regiment was ever afraid.” He would stand out in front of the men lying in shell holes into which he had ordered them, and read his map unconcernedly with the Machine-gun bullets kicking up spurts of dust around his feet; and would turn smilingly, “Come on now, men, they can’t hit me and they won’t hit you.” It was more like a Civil War picture than anything we have seen in this fighting to watch the line of troops rushing forward led by their Commander.

But their task was more than any battalion could perform. The conditions on the right made it impossible to reach the wire in front with strength enough to break through it. The 84th Brigade was doing heroic work, but it was to take two days more of tremendously hard fighting for them before the Cote de Chatillon could be reduced. The nature of the fighting turned their front obliquely in a northeast direction, while our Brigade was advancing due north. Major Norris of the Alabamas filled in the gap between our right and their left during the afternoon, thus insuring against an attack from the Germans which might break through our line. Their brigade captured Hill 288 that day but was held up in front of the Tuilerie Farm. It was not until the evening of the 16th and by continuous and desperate fighting that our gallant brothers of the 84th Brigade pounded their way to the crest of the Cote de Chatillon.

In the afternoon, after six hours of battle, Donovan reported that the 3rd Battalion, which had gotten up to the slopes under the German wire, was too badly shot up to be able to push through. He requested an artillery barrage of an hour and a half to keep the Germans distracted while he withdrew the 3rd Battalion carrying their wounded, through the 1st Battalion under Major Kelly, who would take their place. At dusk Kelly made his advance by infiltration, Company C on the left, Company D on the right. The men stole forward, losing heavily but taking advantage of every inequality in the surface of the ground. Towards the right of our position a rough wagon road run up through a draw between two gradual slopes and just before it reached the main road between Sommerance and Landres it passed through a deep cut, in some places eight feet deep, part of which was included in the enemy’s wire defenses.

The battalion fought its way right up to the enemy’s wire, only to find it an impassable barrier. Our artillery fire had not made a break in it anywhere, as for lack of aeroplanes to register the effects of their work they had been shooting entirely by the map. Groups of our lads dashed up to the wire only to be shot down to the last man. Some ran through a passage made for the roadway, the only possible method of getting through, but this of course was absolutely covered by the German guns, and every man that went through it was shot and, if not killed outright, taken prisoner. Soldiers of ours and of the Engineers with wire-cutting tools lay on their faces working madly to cut through the strands, while riflemen and grenadiers alongside of them tried to beat down the resistance. But they were in a perfect hail of bullets from front and flank, and every last man was killed or wounded. Further back was a concentration of artillery fire, of bursting shells and groans and death, that made the advance of the support platoons a veritable hell.

The attackers finally fell back a short distance to the deep cut in the road. Our second attempt to break through had failed. Major Kelly with Lieutenant Connelly and parts of companies A and C held this place as a vantage point to make a third attempt in the morning. Bootz was in charge on the left of the main road. About one hundred and fifty yards south of the wire the ground sloped, and on this reverse slope Colonel Donovan established his P. C., with Lieutenant Betty as his adjutant, Wheatley having been wounded. With him also were detachments from the Headquarters and Machine Gun Companies under Lieutenant Devine and Sergeants Sheahan, Heins, Leo Mullin, Doherty and Gillespie. During the night, accompanied by Sergeant Major Bernard White, the Colonel himself scouted up to the enemy wire to examine the conditions for the next days’ attack. Tanks were promised to roll through the wire, shoot up the machine gun nests and make a passage for the infantry. Morning came but no tanks in sight. Lieutenant Grose and Boberg and Brosnan of Brigade Headquarters were scouring the roads in search of them. It took two hours to get a message back, as the telephone was out. The artillery barrage ran its appointed course and still no tanks. Kelly once more made his attack, under conditions that he soon discovered to be impossible for success. Every man that reached the wire was hit, and losses were heavy in his elements further back.