The church to which he belonged did not believe in war. Like the Quakers, its members were "conscientious objectors." It was supposed that Alvin C. York would ask exemption as a "conscientious objector"; but he did not, although his friends begged him to do so. He reported for duty at Camp Gordon, Georgia, on November 14, 1917.
He was often troubled however with the feeling that to kill men, even in a righteous war to ensure liberty to all the world, was contrary to his religion and the teachings of the Bible. He finally came to realize that in this belief he was wrong, and that it was his duty, and the duty of every brave man, to meet armed oppression by arms, and when no other way was left, to kill those who would by force take away the life and liberty of others.
He was an expert pistol and rifle shot, as are almost all Tennessee and Kentucky mountaineers. In a shooting match with a major of his division, York is said to have hit with his automatic pistol at every shot a penny match-box over one hundred feet distant. His coolness and courage in the face of danger and his skill with the pistol and rifle enabled him to do the impossible—or at any rate, what every one would have declared impossible, before Alvin C. York accomplished it.
All through the Argonne forest, from Verdun almost to Sedan, the Americans were obliged to advance between hills, and often over hills covered with dense tangles of shrubs, vines, and trees, among which the Germans had hidden machine-gun nests.
Corporal York, on the morning of October 8, 1918, with his battalion was attempting to get behind the machine-gun nests on a hillside and to destroy them. The hill was then only known by number; it is now called York Hill.
They were to climb the hill and come down over the crest, as in this way they would get behind the German machine-guns. Sergeant Bernard Early with sixteen men was ordered to undertake the task. Corporal York was one of the men. At the start they were observed and were caught by German fire from three directions. Six of the small company were killed and three wounded, leaving Corporal York with seven privates to advance up the hillside.
They succeeded in reaching the crest of the hill, although machine-gun bullets were constantly whipping about them, usually however over their heads in the branches. They came upon an old trench and followed it over the brow of the hill, when suddenly they saw two Germans ahead of them. They fired on the Germans; one ran and escaped, the other surrendered. Going on, they soon discovered a couple of dozen Germans gathered about a small hut beside a stream which ran through the valley below. The Americans opened fire. The Germans dropped their guns, threw up their hands, and yelled, "Kamerad! Kamerad!" This meant they had surrendered. Among them was the major in command.
Some of York's seven men were assigned to guard the prisoners and had assembled them, when a hail of machine-gun bullets came from the hillside directly in front of them and across the brook. Every one, Germans included, fell flat on the ground. The Americans had indeed come over the hilltop down behind the German machine-guns, but the gunners had now turned them squarely around and were sending a rain of bullets upon the Americans. They avoided firing upon their German comrades and thus the American privates guarding them were comparatively safe. Corporal York was on the hill above the prisoners and it was difficult for the gunners to hit him without killing or injuring some of their own men. A well-aimed rifle or pistol shot might have done it, however.
He had fallen into a path and was somewhat protected by the rise on the side toward the German guns. From here, lying flat upon his face, he coolly aimed his rifle and picked off German after German, after every shot calling upon those left to come down and surrender.
His comrades could not assist him, for those who were not with the German prisoners were so situated that to show themselves meant instant death.