The following men in the detachment of Ambulance Company 139, 110th Sanitary Train, for courage and devotion to duty under intense fire while acting as litter bearers on the morning of September 30th, 1918:
| Wagoner Jacob C. Weaverling |
| Pvt. Stephen F. McCormick |
| Pvt. 1cl. George G. Crowley |
| Pvt. 1cl. Fay A. Downing |
| Pvt. 1cl. Joe Barnes |
| Pvt. John J. Fisher |
| Pvt. Charles F. Blaker |
| Pvt. Harry T. Douglass |
| Pvt. Garland Freeman |
| Pvt. William W. Williams |
| Pvt. Louis J. Fisher |
| Pvt. John R. Fulmer |
| Pvt. Robert A. Still |
| Pvt. John P. Feeney |
Casualties—Ambulance Company 139, during the five days in the Argonne with our own division, and the forty-eight hours attached to the First Division, came out of battle without a death. Private Lloyd Richmond, on the night of September 29th, while taking care of some wounded men under intense shell and machine gun fire at Chaudron Farm, was wounded in seven different places.
The following named men were gassed while attached to the First Division at Charpentry:
Lt. George Monteith, Sgt. Clarence Falconer, Pvt. Edward DeTalent, Pvt. Wilson Meyers, Lt. Bret V. Bates, Sgt. Ernest Stalcup, Pvt. Kenneth S. Brown, Pvt. Jesse Dennis, Pvt. Lester A. Brogan, Pvt. Jesse Casteel, Pvt. William Peterson, Pvt. Rollo C. Dugan.
THE STAY IN VAUBECOURT
On coming from the Argonne offensive on October 5th, the Sanitary Train moved to Vaubecourt, a city whose blocks of ruins told plainer than words the story of its bombardment in the earlier days of the war. But, complete as was the destruction of some parts of the city other parts escaped harm, and in this quarter we found a comfortable home in a large barn, well equipped with bunks.
The memory of our stay in Vaubecourt to most of us is not a pleasant one. Sick, tired, hungry, dirty, clothing torn and stained with mud and blood, and equipment lost, the men of our company certainly did not have the appearance of spic and span soldiers of Uncle Sam. A few hours of rest, with good food and plenty of soap and water did much to better conditions, but the effects of the previous days at the front were not at once thrown off. Sickness prevailed, hardly a man escaping it in some degree, and the number sent each day to the hospital was probably the largest at any time in the history of the company. Here for the first time in months, we heard the once famous sound of the bugle, the companies standing all calls.
But in the midst of this, there was one day of our Vaubecourt stay that stood out as one of the brightest in our experience. It was the day the news arrived that Germany, surrounded by an unbreakable band of fire and steel, and realizing the inevitable, had asked for peace terms. To us who had just emerged from the horrors of the Argonne, the news seemed like the first streak of morning light shining through the darkness. However, the constant rumbling of the distant artillery and the steady procession of aeroplanes overhead, kept us from becoming too optimistic. Yet the feeling seemed to remain that it was the beginning of the end, and that peace could not be far distant.