Victor Chapman, son of John Jay Chapman, was one of the splendid fellows that it was a pleasure to meet and never to forget. Changing from the Legion to the Aviation he was killed near Verdun, June 23, 1916, in a battle with French comrades against German machines. The “Petit Parisian” headline announcing the event, said: “The king of the air dies like a king.”
Harvard University students have raised a fund, known as the Victor Chapman Scholarship Fund, of $25,000, bearing interest of $1,000 a year, which is set aside for the education of a worthy French student. A young man from Lyons is at present at Harvard, perpetuating and cementing the ties for which Chapman gave his life.
Eugene Galliard, Minneapolis, Minn., served two years in the trenches, twice wounded, was mustered out as a lieutenant and returned to America.
John Huffer, an American of the Legion, was decorated with the Medaille Militaire, and the Croix de Guerre, with five citations, four being palms.
Bennet Moulter, an American, went from Mexico to France, changed his animosity from Caranza to the Kaiser; and was seriously wounded July, 1917.
Christopher Charles, of Brooklyn, New York, 21 years old, machine gun operator, has been in all attacks since September, 1914. He was decorated with the Croix de Guerre at Chalons, July 14, 1917. At Bordeaux, I met his marraine (godmother), who said,—“Yes, I know Christopher Charles. I met him when he was wounded in hospital here. That boy is an American. His place is in his own country now. I will get him out of the Legion if I have to go to Washington to do it.”
Norman Barclay, New York City, formerly of Long Island, aviator, was killed by aeroplane, nose diving. Had two years’ service on the front before being snuffed out. Killed June 22, 1917.
Robert Mulhauser entered the Legion in 1914, changed to the 170th in 1915, was decorated with the Croix de Guerre and promoted to Lieutenant at Verdun. He has been cited in Army Orders three times.
Walter Appleton, New York City, scion of the great American publishing house. The last time I met him was north of Suippe, in the middle of the night, unloading barrels from a wagon in the darkness, where the first line men connected with the commissary. Zouaves with canvas pails of wine, Moroccans carrying loaves of bread on their bayonets, Legionnaires looking after their own, and ready to pick up any straggling food. Dead horses and men lay alongside, a German captured cannon pointed to the rear was near-by, surrounded by broken cassions and German dead. Shells were exploding overhead. We ran into each other in the mix-up, shook hands, said “Hello,” and separated into the night.
Alan Seeger, a Harvard graduate, killed in bayonet attack, in “No-Man’s-Land,” Independence Day, July 4, 1916. Buried in the Army Zone. The only tears that will water the flowers that grow on his hillside grave will be the evening dew, even as he dropped his brilliant thoughts on the close of life.