Ohio History Journal

edited by

HELEN WINGATE AND DONALD SMYTHE, S.J.

 

A Buckeye in the Great War:

The Wartime Diary and Letters

of John J. Miller

 

EDITORS' NOTE: John J. Miller was born March 5, 1889, in Chat-

ham, Ohio, the son of Philo L. and Mary Elizabeth Miller. He at-

tended public schools in Chatham until his family moved to Elyria,

Ohio, in his senior year. Graduating from Elyria High School, he at-

tended Western Reserve University and Western Reserve University

Dental School, graduating from there in 1915. Returning to Elyria, he

practiced dentistry until World War I came, then enlisted as a lieuten-

ant in the Medical Corps. Eventually he was assigned as a dentist in

the 3d Battalion, 30th Infantry Regiment, 3d Division, which sailed

for Europe in April 1918.

His unit saw service in the Champagne-Marne Defensive (1,425

casualties), the Aisne-Marne Offensive (712 casualties), the St. Mihiel

Offensive (no casualties), and the Meuse-Argonne Offensive (1,486

casualties). Because of the 3d Division's heroic stand in the

Champagne-Marne Defensive, it received its nickname, "The Rock of

the Marne." After the armistice Miller's unit marched into Germa-

ny.1

Returning from the war as a captain, Miller set up dental practice in

Cleveland. In 1920 he began working parttime for the wire division of

General Electric. In 1933 he left private practice for full-time work

with General Electric as an industrial dentist. The last twelve years of

his life he lived in Chardon, Ohio, near the General Electric wire

works plant. He died in Cleveland on April 14, 1948.

 

 

 

 

 

Helen Wingate is a retired school teacher of American History in the Amherst School

System, Amherst, Ohio. Donald Smythe, S.J., noted military historian, author of

Pershing: General of the Armies, and faculty member at John Carroll University since

1966, died on February 5, 1988, at the age of 60.

1. History of the Third Division, United States Army, in the World War for the Period

December 1, 1917 to January 1, 1919 (Andernach-on-the-Rhine, 1919), 135-54.

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30                                             OHIO HISTORY

 

A handsome man, Miller married and had two sons. He was an

avid sportsman and enjoyed fishing, trap shooting, and archery. He

was a 33d-degree Mason and belonged to many dental societies.

During the war Miller kept a diary and supplemented it with letters

home to his family. Miller was something of a character who ex-

pressed his mind freely about people and events. The result makes

for interesting reading.

The diary is reproduced here almost in its entirety, together with

excerpts from his letters (identified as "letters" in the text). Rather

than burden the text with sics, the editors have corrected errors in

spelling, grammar and punctuation. Also, to protect the identity of a

man whom Miller describes as a coward and a fool, we have

changed one name in the text-the man named Barber. But other-

wise we have reproduced the diary and letters exactly as Miller

wrote them. The original documents are in the possession of Miller's

niece, Mrs. William (Helen) Wingate of Amherst, Ohio.

The editors wish to thank Ms. Martha Crowley for typing the man-

uscript.

 

 

March 10, 1918. Looks like we might be heading overseas soon to

do our bit in helping to "make the world safe for democracy," so I

might as well get started jotting down a few impressions as we go

along. My first impression is that I much prefer being a civilian to be-

ing a soldier, but in some ways I am luckier than many others. It

doesn't take an extraordinary sense of perception to know that being

a first lieutenant is better than being a private, and I guess there are

worse places than Camp Sherman here at Chillicothe, Ohio. I hope

that being a part of the Medical Corps may have some advantages,

but I'll reserve judgment on that and not be too hopeful. I'll try to

keep this log so I'll have my stories straight when I get home.

March 28, Camp Merritt, New Jersey. They say we are going across

next Monday. When I came here we were to have gone across last

Tuesday. Next Monday is the first of April. Hope it doesn't turn out

to be an April-fool trip-especially after it is started. Have seen the

wonderful New York, but I can't say that I'd give it all the credit I'd

heard it given before.

March 30. Got up for breakfast this morning. The food is generally

pretty poor here. We are eating company rations, but at that it is bet-

ter than we had at our officer's mess in the M.P.s at Camp Sherman.

The Medical Detachment had their physical inspection this A.M.

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Buckeye Doughboy                                              31

preparatory to going on the boat. Looks like we are going, sure enough. March 31. Can't leave camp today. It's payday, too. We leave to- morrow. Guess I'm ready. Today is Easter Sunday, too. Guess my spring suit will have to be olive drab. April 3. Been too much doing since Sunday to write. We left New York yesterday at 12:30 on the Aquitania. They say she is the next largest boat afloat. Anyway she is a wonder. I drew a stateroom on Deck A with a Lieutenant [Frank R.] Marston. They feed us good and I manage to eat everything on the menu. [Lt. Harry H.] Burns and [Lt. Lucien N.] Linsey are both sea-sick. The weather is bright but the air is rather cold, but it is great weather for this time of year. Heard today we were going to England. Got a compass and we are go- ing S.E. Probably doing a zigzag. Hear a lot of talk about the subma- rines. They say this boat can do twenty-seven knots an hour, whatev- er that is. We hear a lot about what is going on in England and if it is

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32                                            OHIO HISTORY

 

all true the Dutch² must be keeping them right busy, as one South-

erner put it this morning. Most of the 30th is made up of men and offi-

cers from the South and East and I like the Easterners best, which is

contrary to expectations. There's a dentist here from Boston that is a

darb and Boston is about the last place I'd expected to see a good

fellow claim for his home. The baggage men piled all his trunks and

dental equipment into his stateroom and it filled it so full he couldn't

get in himself. He thinks he's going to some big picnic. His name is

McCormack.

April 5. Guess we are getting into the submarine zone; we have to

sleep with our life belts on.

April 6. We're out four days today. We are supposed to pick up an

escort of destroyers sometime tonight. No one is allowed on deck af-

ter 6:30 P.M. from here to Liverpool. The windows and doors are

covered with black paint and no light shows anywhere on the boat.

No whistle is blown in the fog anymore. There are six 6-inch guns

mounted on the boat, four forward and two aft. They are manned by

gunners from the British navy and they say they can fire them at the

rate of three times a minute, which is fast enough if they can catch a

submarine napping around on top.

April 7. I'm still eating the menu through. We haven't picked up

any escort yet.

April 8. Ran into a storm last night about three o'clock. It has

bounced things around considerably, and she is still going full tilt.

We have been hanging around here in about the same place for the

last day or two, waiting for an escort. They just showed up about an

hour ago. Five American destroyers. They look small after being on

this boat so long. They plow through and under the waves at a pretty

good clip, though, about a half mile on each side and for miles in

front of us. They make things less lonesome to have them around. We

have to sleep fully dressed, with our life preserver where you can

grab it any minute. You must also keep your canteen filled with water

and on your belt. There are sixty-seven hundred troops aboard.

April 10. Yesterday was too big a day to write anything. At six-

thirty or seven o'clock I woke up from a hell of a bang and Marston

said, "They are firing." That one was followed by two more in less

than a minute. I don't know whether they saw a sub or not. I could-

 

 

2. Dutch: a nickname for Germans, from a corruption of Deutsch (German).

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Buckeye Doughboy                                            33

 

n't get out on deck in time to see, but not many beat me there. The

English claim that it was a sub and they got it, but I don't have

much confidence in their tales anymore. About two in the afternoon

they thought they saw another one. A dentist in our regiment named

[Lt. Edward F.] Rabe and I were sitting in the smoking room playing

cards when a shot was fired from one of the bow guns on the port

side. We both made a rush for the door. The door was low and he

almost knocked his head off trying to go through. I was the first out

and when I got to the rail a couple of men were looking down be-

tween two of the life boats and yelling, "There it is, right there!" I

jumped over the rail into one of the life boats and took a look over the

side of it. There was the end of a broken spar floating around in the

water about twenty or thirty feet from the boat and just under me.

Just as I had figured out what it was, but was still looking at it, the

stern gun put a shell right on it and it burst just under the water. I

don't even remember getting out of that boat, but I was back on deck

before the water that splashed over settled back into the ocean. I

know I set a record for getting out of life boats. A six-inch shell sure

does make some commotion when it explodes. Later in the day they

took a couple more shots at something that proved to be wreckage.

The subs seem to have their goat alright.

April 11. Came in sight of land this afternoon-Isle of Man. Expect

to get to Liverpool some time tonight.

April 12. Came in about midnight and at daylight we were tied up

to the dock. We unloaded and marched over to a railroad station

and got on to a train and rode most of the day across the country to

Winchester. The country is beautiful. About all you hear is the Ger-

man drive.³ Guess it wasn't as much of a fizzle for the Germans as it

was advertised in American papers. The English seem to have had

enough of the war. Heard one say this morning that it was about fin-

ished, that the Western Front would never stand another attack like

the last one. Most of them would be glad for peace at any price, I

guess. The English railroads and newspapers can't be praised much,

or anything else I've seen up to date. Winchester is about a tenth-rate

 

 

3. On April 9 along the Lys River in Belgium the Germans had blown a hole in the

Allied lines. Such appeared the seriousness of the situation that two days later Sir

Douglas Haig, commander of the British Expeditionary Force, issued his famous

"backs-to-the-wall" order: "Every position must be held to the last man; there must

be no retirement. With our backs to the wall, and believing in the justice of our cause,

each one of us must fight on to the end." Donald Smythe, Pershing: General of the

Armies (Bloomington, 1986), 106.

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34                                             OHIO HISTORY

 

town. I imagined it was quite a place. Expect to stay here four or five

days and then go to France. Guess they must need somebody over

there. I don't think the English would care much if the Americans

took over their whole interest in the war. Women seem to be doing all

the work and all the men of military age are in uniform. Also, I have

seen exceptionally few good lookers.

April 14 (letter). We arrived on this side all O.K. and had a fine trip

across. They did quite a bit of shooting at subs or what they thought

were subs on the last day out, but I have my doubts if they ever saw

a real sub. We went through England and that is a pretty country,

but I can't say much for their railroads or their newspapers. Most of

the work here seems to be done by women. They have a few old

men and young boys at work too. We are in a good place now, but the

food is not so plentiful as in America. I'm getting all I need though.

April 15. Le Havre, France. Left Winchester yesterday and came

by railroad to Southampton where we took a boat for Le Havre. The

Channel was about as rough as it ever gets, I guess, and the boat

wasn't much bigger than a good sized tug. It was a hell of a trip all

the way, especially for the enlisted men. They crowded about seven

hundred on it and all the way across the waves washed over the

decks and half drowned them; most of them were sick; all of them

were half dead from cold and exposure and lack of something to eat.

It took from about dusk until three o'clock to make the trip across

and then the damn tub got caught in a submarine net and couldn't

get off that until daylight. The more I see of the way these English

do things, the less I like them. I had a bunk in kind of a stateroom(?)

with our medical Major, Barber by name, and he is a darb. He was

sick all the way over and vomited all over the place. Thought he was

a fine old man when I first met him, but I'm beginning to have my

doubts about him. It is pretty cold here and we sleep in tents. Guess

Barber wants me to sleep in the same tent with him; he seems to be

taking quite an interest in me.

April 16. Last night McCormack and I got pretty drunk on French

wine here in this camp, and when I went to the tent to go to bed, I

stepped in old Frank's face. Mac had to sleep with a chaplain and he

vomited on him. He reported him for being drunk this morning.

Guess we leave here sometime today or tonight.

April 17. We came down and boarded our train last night about

eleven and have been moving ever since. Don't know where we are

going, but we are certainly taking our time to it. The poor devils of the

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Buckeye Doughboy                                             35

enlisted men have to ride forty to a box-car that is just about half as big as one of ours. We are not a hell of a lot better off in this compart- ment though. These railroads over here are a wonderful organiza- tion. April 18. We stayed on that damn train for two nights and a day with six men in four seats and nothing to eat but hardtack, blackber- ry jam and Limburger cheese. I've learned to eat Limburger. Arrived at our town at about ten this morning, and it's some town. It's about five miles from the railroad and five hundred years from civilization. Dancevoir is it's name. All the people through the country here and all over France live in villages. Instead of having their homes on their farms wherever they would happen to be, they each own or run little pieces of land here and there around through the neighborhood, and then live in a village in some more or less centrally located place. These villages range in size from two hundred to seven or eight hun- dred people, a church and several wine shops. The objection to this plan seems to be mostly in their sanitary arrangements. The houses are universally old, built of stone several hundred years ago and only been repaired now and then. Most of them have stone roofs made from flat stones such as you would see along a creek bed in a sand-

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36                                            OHIO HISTORY

 

stone country. The walls are made from rough stones split from sand-

stone blocks. They never bothered about smoothing the edges, and

the builders didn't seem to understand much about laying them in

straight lines when they made them. These all stand right out on the

curb of narrow streets as close to each other as they could be built,

and the barn and house are all one. Wherever you go in one of these

towns, indoors or out, you have a fresh barnyard odor. I guess I'm in

the only billet in town that hasn't gotten a stable connected with it.

Old Barber and I are staying with the village priest. He (Barber) says

he hates to stay alone and asked me to come over and stay in the

same room. Guess he must be afraid of the French. The family here

consists of the old padre, his sister-a widow about 55-and his

niece, with a son nine years old. Her husband is a lieutenant in the

French army. I think I'm going to like the whole bunch.

 

April 19. Found a place to eat today. Major Barber, Capt. [William

E.] Boyce, [Lt. Thomas H.] Royster, Jaffer, [Col. Cromwell] Stacey

and myself eat at a little restaurant down in the middle of town. We

draw our rations from the supply company and she cooks them and

gives us whatever else she thinks should go to make up a complete

feed. So far she has done well and the mess is turning out to be a

pretty good organization.

April 22. Got my outfit [dental] today and set it up. Guess there is

going to be plenty to do here. Burns, Rabe, and Riffe are around

here in other towns, but most men are in this place and Burns didn't

get his outfit yet, so I guess I'll have to take care of his, too.

April 27. Jaffer, Boyce, and Royster have all been transferred to

different towns and Barber has quit the mess because he says it is

too expensive. That leaves me alone with Stacey. Now I'm eating with

a colonel and rooming with a major. Stacey is some warrior, to hear

him tell it. He must have slaughtered the Filipinos by the thou-

sands. He has been up to the front here, too, for a few days look-

around and he also has considerable to say about that.

April 29. Jaffer came over last night and we went down to the Cafe

de Centre. I got a pretty good skin full of champagne and Jaffer also

got "zigzag," as the French dames call it. So did they. They seem to

like Lucky Strikes, too.

April 30. These people don't seem to fall for my French very much.

They don't seem to "compree" when they have perfectly good

French talked at 'em. Also, I haven't seen as many swell "fems" as

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Buckeye Doughboy                                        37

 

I'd expected to; in fact, I've only seen two in Europe to date that I'd

take the second look at.

May 10. Between the Germans and the filth in these towns around

here, I don't see how any of these French are still alive. Every farmer

in the village has a year's accumulation of manure under his bedroom

window. Some of the richest ones have two. The cooking is good to

taste if you don't see them do the cooking. Guess I drew about the

best place in town for a billet when I got the priest. The whole family

are good people and invited us in to dinner two or three times. We are

going tonight and try out some of my French. Madame Toulouse is

trying to teach it to Old Barber and myself. She has a job on her

hands if she expects him to learn anything about languages.

May 11. Had Royster and Boyce over for dinner today. The old

lady cooked up a couple of Belgian hares, heads and all. When the

rest of them saw the heads, they didn't eat much, so I had to eat

most all alone.

May 15. Some of the girls and women around here are pretty fair

looking when they get their wooden shoes off and scrubbed up and

put on their Sunday clothes. They seem to live about four hundred

years behind the times through the week and then come out on Sun-

day dressed up in 1918 model clothes; then you don't know them

when they speak to you. They do most of their farm work with ox

teams. In place of newspapers, an old boy comes out in the middle of

town with a drum, beats it a while, and when the crowd gathers, he

reads them the news from a communique. This happens about twice

a week.

May 20. I'm getting along fine with my French lessons. Barber has

given it up. He might as well. I'm enjoying the stay here pretty well.

May 20 (letter). I haven't seen a paper since I left New York, and

don't know which way the war is going and I guess we won't hear

any more about it when we go up to the front, and I don't know just

when that will be either ... There isn't much happening around

this village that seems worth writing about except the natives and

they are beyond description. You have to see them to believe them

and then you can't believe them either.

May 21 (letter). There was a swarm of flying machines just went

over. Was invited out to dinner or tea last evening. I went and you

should have been there and heard me try to talk French. Nobody

understood me much, but they insisted that I was speaking good

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38                                                 OHIO HISTORY

 

French, and it sounded as much like good French to me as any the

rest were speaking. You should see me trying to make a date with a

French girl the other day. Had to use a dictionary for half an hour.

She wore wooden shoes and a Mother Hubbard dress that hadn't

been washed since the war broke out. Of course, I didn't have any

intention of keeping the date, but I made it just the same and sent one

of the soldiers down to see her from the medical detachment. A cou-

ple of hours later I saw him coming down the street with her, and

she had taken off her wooden shoes and Mother Hubbard and put

on her swell rags, and she was as swell a looker as you would ever ex-

pect to see on Broadway. The next morning I asked him where he

found that one and he said, "Well, that's the one you sent me down

to see." Now what do you think of that? She was so completely cam-

ouflaged that I didn't recognize her two hours after I had been talk-

ing to her. But I went by the house the next morning again, and I

wasn't sorry I missed her. There she was in her everyday uniform,

dirty as ever. Think there isn't much danger, but I'll come back to

America a single boy.⁴ We are having good weather now for picture

taking and I guess I will try to take some ....

May 29. The order to move came today while I was at lunch. Guess

the Germans have gotten wild again.⁵ The rumor seems to be that we

are to go up around Soissons or Rheims. Barber is in a stew. His nerve

seems to be pretty well gone, if he ever had any. You'd think that

Germans were looking for him personally, to hear him carry on.

May 30. Le Tracey. When the order came in, we were to move in an

hour; then it was changed for today. I collected the dental outfits for

the regiment and brought them up here on a wagon to load them on a

car. When I got here there was no car for them, but we took a car

loaded with French freight, dumped it out, and had our equipment

put in. The old stationmaster is raising quite a bit of hell about it, but

I don't compre his language much. Think I'll keep Beacham near the

car until we move.

 

 

 

4. A number of Americans commented on French uncleanliness. For example, Al-

exander Woollcott, an American journalist who served on the staff of The Stars and

Stripes in France, remarked that the French had never learned to use a toothbrush.

See Woollcott's "Them Damned Frogs," North American, 210 (October, 1919), 490-98.

5. After attacking the British armies in March and April, the Germans shifted

south and ruptured the French lines on May 27 along the Chemin des Dames front.

Before the attack ended on June 5, the Germans were back on the Marne River at

Chateau-Thierry, only fifty miles from Paris, and the French were thinking of aban-

doning the capital. Smythe, Pershing, 129-32.

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Buckeye Doughboy                                        39

 

May 31. We are still here waiting for the regiment to come up. The

old stationmaster is still trying to get our stuff out of the car. He says

he can't move us without a transportation order, which I can't get,

and I won't leave the car until he moves us. Guess I'm liable to spend

the summer on this side track.

June 1. They came up last night and I got my transportation order,

then joined in with regimental headquarters and came along. I left

the dental equipment behind. We're on the train; off for the front 6

P.M. Stopped at Suzanne. Couldn't make our original destination on

the train. The Germans were shelling the place. Guess we are going to

detrain here.

June 3. Detrained at Suzanne, and marched all night, until three

o'clock yesterday afternoon parallel to the front. Passed through

Montmirail and Ville Maison. Arrived at the Grand Foret without an-

ything to eat except a little breakfast in two days. Marched about 40

kilometers. Another medical officer joined the regiment today, a Lt.

[Vincent J.] Shippey, I guess his name is. Have heard the guns going

ever since we left the train. Seems to be quite a bit doing along here.

Last night our second battalion moved out and up to the front line.

Old Barber is going nuts, I guess.

 

June 5. Left the woods day before yesterday afternoon and

marched into Nogent-L'Artaud [sur Marne]. Arrived just after dark.

Just as we came in town a battery of big guns [along] side of the road

cut loose and fired over our heads. They make an awful commotion

and noise and Old Barber thought they were German shells coming

in. He tumbled off his horse and yelled "gas." Then he put his gas

mask on and got ready to die, I guess. It took the rest of the night to

convince him that he was alright. He has everybody scared to

death. Don't think any shells have come within miles of this place.

The next morning, June 4, we set up the hospital in a house and we

live in the same house. The French civilians have all left the town ex-

cept a few here and there. The Second Battalion is across the river

on Hill 204, or near there. The Dutch are on the hill. Went down and

took a look at the Marne today. She flows through the town. Barber

continues to get wilder. He's afraid he's going to be gassed. He has

moved into the same room with me and every time a gun cracks he

thinks he is being shelled. The Germans keep a lot of airplanes over

on our side of the river. This forenoon they came over and brought

down two French observation balloons. The Dutch have seven bal-

loons up within sight of here. They don't seem to be disturbed

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40                                            OHIO HISTORY

 

much. The French left a lot of rabbits and chickens behind and we

are eating them. Considerable gunning going on over towards

Chateau-Thierry.

June 6. We got shelled today. They sent in twenty six-inch shells

and I thought they would tear the town down. Barber wasn't here

then, but when he came back he went wild and moved the hospital

to the basement of an old church. That is a safe place alright, even

those big ones couldn't get us in there.

June 7. Barber slept in the church's basement last night. Says they

have our range now and we can expect a gas attack. He tries to sleep

with his gas mask on and about drowns himself in spit. Three offi-

cers and one man were killed and one officer and seventeen men

wounded night before last over on Hill 204. All were from our Second

Battalion.

June 8. The Dutch shelled the town again today and wounded

three civilians. I went down with Barber and we dressed them. We

have gotten the Germans off of Hill 204, but they are certainly raising

hell over here on the next hill. The town is getting to be pretty well

shot up.

June 9. Shelled again today. Barber raced for the cellar without

any clothes, but he had his tin hat and two gas masks which he

doesn't part with. Last night he heard a barrage over on the hill and

got me up and we went down to headquarters to see if there were any

orders to move out. Guess he thought the Dutch were coming down

in that cellar after him. Gave him a good gas scare on the way back.

The Americans took Chateau-Thierry last night.

June 10. Moved last night. He sent me out to locate a safe place to

put the hospital about 10 o'clock, and we moved out of town about a

mile and stayed at the side of the road. Rained all night. Guess he

got enough of that.

June 11. Moved to Viffort. Established hospital in house just on

edge of town.

June 13. Some shells came in last night and killed some French

horses. Some of the pieces were sticking up in trees and the French

soldiers were fishing horse steaks out of the apple trees this morning.

Barber is worried again.

June 15. Went to Verdelot after my dental outfit today, about sixty

kilometers there and back.

• 12
 

Buckeye Doughboy                                             41

June 16. Outfit left for woods back of Crezancy to go into support position. No transportation for dental equipment, so I kept Beacham here to wait for them to come back and get us. June 17. Went up to join the outfit in the woods and lost the way, and got down almost to the river. The Dutch are just across the Marne along here. June 18. No transportation for that damn [dental] outfit yet. I'm getting about ready to leave it stay behind for keeps if we move around much more. June 22. Dutch have been putting over a few shells on Crezancy and St. Eugene every now and then for the last few days. Living in this damn woods in a continuous rain is getting tiresome. June 25. Riffe has been transferred to field headquarters, 2d Bat- talion. I'm going down with the 3d Battalion. Barber will miss me, I guess. June 26. One man killed and six wounded in this battalion tonight. They came in here about 9 o'clock and I took some men and went up

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42                                             OHIO HISTORY

 

after them. Then helped Royster dress them. One of the medical

men [was] shot through the arm.

June 28. The Dutch pop in a few shells now and then. They have

one end of the town pretty well done up.

June 29. We sent Beacham and Banner out to dig potatoes today

and the Boche shelled them in.

June 29 (letter). I have my office in a town and you can look out of

the window and see the Fritzies over on the other hill.... Right

now there is a German airplane above the house and the Allied anti-

aircraft guns are rattling away at him for fair. That sounds dangerous

for that lone Dutchman, but he is perfectly safe and knows it. Have

seen them shoot thousands of rounds of anti-aircraft ammunition at

those birds and have my first one to see brought down. They claim

they have hit some already, though.

The Dutch have torn down one end of this town pretty well, and

every now and then they pitch in a few shells to keep things from

getting dull. Nobody has been hit here in town since I've been here.

There are very few here, but I don't see how they have missed them

all at that, the way they come in here at times.

Eats are damn rotten and scarce up here, except what we forage

and there isn't a whole lot of that. This part of the country has been

picked pretty clean. Once in a while you can find a Belgian hare and

run him down and some of the new potatoes are big enough to eat.

Occasionally we have lettuce, and red currants are ripe. Had a mess

of strawberries the other day.... There are no French civilians liv-

ing in this part of the country any more, and everything that they

had is eaten up or used.

One of the machine-gun battalions bought a dandy cow from a

Frenchman the other day for 20 francs (about $3.50) and was taking

her along with them for milk, feeding her along with the feed and

pasture left here. One night they tied her in a barn and when one of

them went out to milk the next morning all that was left was the cow

hide. Some French soldiers had come in and butchered her during

the night and taken all the meat away. They will steal anything they

can get their hands on, but they are good soldiers and get along with

the Americans pretty good. Nobody seems to like the English,

though.

June 30. Living pretty well on gardens planted around here. If it

wasn't for that, we would have almost nothing to eat. The Boche put

in a few shells from time to time.

• 14
 

Buckeye Doughboy                                            43

 

July 1. The Dutch found 10 or 12 men from the First Battalion with

shrapnel today. Have a swell hospital and dental office here.

July 4 (letter). We had quite a celebration at midnight last night.

The Allies began it, but the Dutch helped out, and did the best

they could to show their respect for our Glorious Fourth, and I'll ad-

mit they did it in good style. Wherever one of those big babies

strike, they change the landscape immediately.

Do you remember where Irvin S. Cobb⁶ said that war was more to

smell of than to look at? Well, it is enough to look at, but the smell

has it all over the looks. This is due mostly to filth, though. The

weather is fairly warm here through the day and it is bringing out

some fine odors, but at night it gets cold enough so that you feel

good under three big blankets with all your clothes on.

Guess we are to be relieved tomorrow night, but that only means

that we go back a few kilometers and let the Dutch shell us from a

distance. In fact, they don't shell the front line as much as they do

farther back now.

July 5 (letter). We had some fireworks last night both ways. Up to

date they have only made one hit on the building we were in, and

that was at the opposite end from which we are located. It is a three

floor building a couple hundred feet long and I guess only a 77 [milli-

meter] hit it, so you see we have been in luck.

July 5. Moved to the hill back of Crezancy in woods. First Battal-

ion went to Crezancy.

July 12. American artillery have been putting over a barrage every

night for a week. Germans don't reply much.

July 13. Finished our hospital dugout last night. Stayed up and

shoveled until 11 o'clock with [Lt. Thomas E.] Cooney and Royster.

Cooney joined us at Crezancy June 27. Forgot to mention him before.

He's from the 6th Engineers and was up with the British in the big

homeward movement, as he calls it. He likes them the same as I do.

July 17. Some fight!⁷ The barrage started at just midnight July

14th, and kept it up until 11 o'clock the next day and then they

 

 

 

6. Irvin S. Cobb (1876-1944) was an American humorist, journalist, and war corre-

spondent.

7. After offensives against the British in March and April 1918 and the French in

May and June, the Germans launched their last offensive on July 15, 1918. It extended

from the left of Reims along the Marne River to the right along the Vesle River. During

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44                                                  OHIO HISTORY

 

shelled steadily the rest of that day, that night and the following

day (today). All our horses are dead, almost half the men, I think,

were casualties and things are in a hell of a mess in general. The

dressing station and surroundings are a sight. The damn woods is

just about torn down and filled with dead men and horses. And

they are beginning to smell pretty rank. Never imagined they could

dump so many shells in a place in such a short while. Didn't get any-

thing to eat or even a drink of water from Sunday night until this aft-

ernoon, 48 hours. Our dugout (9x20) was hit five times and the

whole country around here was hit that much on the average. The

boche came over on pontoon bridges between two and three the

morning of the 15th. They didn't expect to find anybody alive, but

they were all killed or captured. Guess our ignorance of this kind of a

war was what saved many of us.

July 23. Crossed Marne today at about 3 o'clock on pontoon

bridges. Horses and men still unburied. Saw one dead American ma-

chine gunner at Mazy with 160 dead Boche⁸ around him. He did

well. Went up on hill above Charteves with Company K, and

watched them go into position. Lots of dead Germans. Shelled off of

hill with Shippey. Crezancy, Mazy, and Charteves are wrecks. My

dental equipment is wrecked and blown all over the woods. Burns' is

under the house it was in. Established infirmary in cellar in house in

Charteves.

July 24. Replacements for regiment came today and a lot of them

were killed before they could report. Capt. [John C.] Adams killed

today. Dressed a wounded Boche. Barber scared to death again by

aerial bombs. They were close. Lots of wounded being brought to

be dressed. Sent four of our own men away today.

July 25. Barber had a gas scare again last night and couldn't find

his gas mask. Everybody is laughing at him now. Had a few cases of

shell shock. Stacey got cold feet and went to hospital. Boche are re-

 

 

 

 

it the 38th Infantry Regiment of the Third Division resisted tenaciously, earning for the

Division its subsequent nickname, "The Rock of the Marne." Although the Germans

had great hopes for their offensive, it bogged down almost immediately and was

called off by July 17. The next day, Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the Allied supreme

commander, launched a successful counteroffensive. Having seized the initiative, the

Allies retained it right up to the time of the armistice of November 11, 1918. Smythe,

Pershing, 149-51.

8. Boche: a French word, short for alboche, from al-(lemand) + (ca)boche, literally

"German blockhead," "German thickskull," "German cabbagehead."

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Buckeye Doughboy                                                     45

 

treating and leaving machine gunners to hold up our advance; our

casualties very heavy.⁹ Still busy at hospital.

July 26. Another air raid last night. They are trying to get our

pontoon bridge. Barber became all excited and was afraid the avia-

tor would hear us talk.

[December 1918] (letter). [Referring to the German July 15, 1918, at-

tack]. They had put down pontoon bridges and began to come

across the river. They didn't expect to find anyone alive, but they

were surprised, and ran into a pretty good scrap. All of them were ei-

ther killed or taken prisoner. I saw one dead American machine gun-

ner with 160 dead Boche around him in a semi-circle. We crossed

the Marne about July 22, and the Germans started their retreat to the

Vesle. I've read in the American newspapers about this retreat being

a German rout. It was not. Fritz covered his retreat with machine

guns and anyone who was there will have to admit he did it very

well.

We came back from the Vesle about the middle of August, and

started for a rest area. After hiking all over France, we finally found a

place to stop and just as we had settled down, news of a preparation

for another drive down in the St. Mihiel sector came in and we were

rushed off on another hike that kept us going on forced marches eve-

ry day from Sept. 4 to Sept. 13. We arrived there just in time to see

our artillery preparation begin.¹⁰ You have probably read in the pa-

pers what happened down there. Then we were jerked off that part

of the front and started hiking again for the Verdun front. Well, we

hit there Sept. 26, again just in time to be in to see the first shots of

our artillery preparation.11

 

 

 

9. The Germans retreated skillfully from the Marne salient (from Chateau-Thierry

on its tip to Soissons and Reims at its base). It took the Allies from July 18 to August

6 to eliminate the salient (in what was called the Aisne-Marne Counteroffensive).

Smythe, Pershing, 152-60.

10. The American First Army, in its first major operation under the command of

General John J. Pershing, attacked the St. Mihiel salient on September 12 and elimi-

nated it by September 16. It was a relatively easy victory since the Germans were plan-

ning to evacuate the salient anyway. Still, it cost the Americans 7,000 casualties. During

the operation Miller's unit was in Corps reserve. Smythe, Pershing, 179-89.

11. The American First Army attacked again in the Meuse-Argonne area (north of

Verdun) on September 26. The terrain was very difficult and the Army had tough go-

ing, making but small progress all through the month of October. During that month

Miller's 30th Infantry Regiment took heavy casualties. Finally on November 1, when

the German armies were in a state of near collapse all along the Western Front, the First

Army broke through and made more gains in the last eleven days of the war than it

had during over a month of hard combat. Smythe, Pershing, 190-237.

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46                                            OHIO HISTORY

 

We were in all the Argonne-Verdun-Meuse fight and came out

when the armistice was signed. In all this time you live outdoors in all

kinds of weather, and sometimes you get so damned wet and cold

and miserable you wonder if anyone ever was warm enough to be

comfortable and had enough to eat. You never build a fire because

in the daytime the Germans would see the smoke and at night they'd

see the light. And then Fritz comes over about every night in his

bombing machines and drops bombs around in among your pup

tents. You should hear those things land! When they strike a build-

ing there is just a cloud of dust and when that clears away there is

just a big hole in the ground where the building was.

You are probably wondering by this time where the dentist fits in

in the makeup of the army. Well, when there is no pitched battles go-

ing on you are a dentist, but when there is anything to do you just be-

come a medical officer, and when that time comes you set broken

arms and legs, stuff their guts back in and do them up just like your

name was Crile.¹² There are a thousand more disagreeable things I

could write about but I guess you can see by this that you haven't

missed a hell of a lot by not being with me.

After the armistice was signed we went to a little town in France

down beyond Bar-le-Duc and got a bath and were going to rest up

and get fat again. Just about as we had had our baths we got orders

to move out. They had fixed up that armistice so that they had to

have some American troops in Germany, and it seemed as though no

one would do but a few divisions who had done all the fighting.

Well, we came. In getting here we went all over eastern France, Lor-

raine, Luxemberg and Germany west of the Rhine and did every

damned step of it-hundreds of miles-on foot, with heavy packs on

our backs. Just now we are in a little town of about 400 population

about 40 miles from Coblenz. I suppose we will stay here all winter or

until all the other dents are out of the army and copped all the good

locations.

I can't write much about the battles because you can't mention

anything about the casualties, but I will say that at the Marne the

Dutch killed every horse we had and that they lay around there

dead in a hot July sun from the 14th to the 23rd that I know of. If you

want to know how thoroughly you'd enjoy it just imagine about 40

dead horses per acre in the summertime and then living with them.

 

 

 

12. George W. Crile, an outstanding Cleveland physician, was a founder of the

Cleveland Clinic.

• 18
 

Buckeye Doughboy                                         47

 

Of course horses were not the only things hit either. Oh, you haven't

missed a thing by not being with us.

December 23, 1918 (letter). Germany. We have stopped again. I

don't know for how long, but we're glad that we have finally stopped

again. I suppose you imagined like I did, that when the Armistice

was signed the war would be about over and we could come home.

That's what we thought anyway. When the news came to us that

there was an armistice we had just pulled into a little town about 2 or

3 hundred population down near Bar-le-Duc for a rest period that

had been promised our division ever since the Marne, July 14-18.

Well, we were in this place just fresh from six weeks of hard going up

around Montfaucon and from there to the Meuse, and you never saw

a more tired, crummier looking bunch of half starved men in your life,

but the news of the Armistice braced them up considerable. Then

an order came in that we were to move out at 2:00 A.M. All the divi-

sions that had been doing most and the hardest fighting were to be

honored by being put into the Army of Occupation. Can you imagine

having an honor like that wished on you? Well, we started to march

the next morning and have been marching to the tune of 15-40 kilos a

day ever since. Now if you want to find out how much fun that is, put

on all the clothes you have and put an overcoat over them, fifty

pounds of equipment, take my shotgun and a hundred shells and

walk to Cleveland. The infantryman's equipment weighs 70 lbs., I

think, and he carries it.... I'm staggering through Germany in

doughboy's hobnails, in an issue uniform, a doughboy's overcoat

and a pack on my back. A first lieutenant's job over here on the line

isn't to be compared with a first class private's in the States. I've

worn the same underwear for months at a time, only taking 'em off to

knock the cooties off up against a tree. We finally found a town small

enough to settle down in after looking most of the country over west

of the Rhine, and you should see the damn place, about 200 popula-

tion with 500 soldiers quartered in it. The other half of the battalion

is over in a town of similar size. Suppose we will probably have to stay

around here all winter, but that would be good compared to the

places we spent our time during the summer when hiking around all

over central Europe. Anyway I'm damn tired of being a warrior and

Burt can be damn glad he didn't get here.

January 1, 1919 (letter). Germany. We moved again yesterday ....

We have much more comfortable quarters here. We have a stove and

can get coal and electric lights, and are only about three miles from a

town of about 10,000, Mayen. The civilians all over Germany, as far as

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48                                              OHIO HISTORY

 

I can see, are not in such hard shape as they were advertised in our

newspapers three years ago. I've looked them over pretty close and

haven't seen any paper shoes or clothes made of bark. In fact, I think

leather must have been one of the things they had most of because

in a good bit of their army equipment the things we made of cloth

were always made of leather. Prices are high for everything but not

nearly so high as in France, and as a rule I think the people go much

better clothed around through the smaller towns than they did in

France. Feed for animals is very scarce and they are killing most of

their cows and hogs off because of it, but altogether I'd say the war

hadn't hit Germany as hard as it did France. I don't think they are

particularly glad to see us but they treat us very well and from what I

can gather they are glad it's us instead of the English or French. I

have no idea when we will come home, but I don't think they will

keep us here much longer without [unless] the new government in

Berlin turns out to be a failure. A good many of the Dutch don't seem

to have much confidence in it and most of them I've been able to talk

to still think the Kaiser is pretty much alright, but blame the whole

business on Ludendorff.¹³

April 2, 1919 (letter). Germany. Just received a whole batch of mail

from the States, about 10 letters, altogether. I'll answer them all in

one. We are still in the same place, but I guess we will probably be

moved before very long because some of the National Guard and Na-

tional Army divisions are getting ready to go home. The 42d goes this

month and the 32d in May, and I suppose when they go the regular

divisions will be shifted around quite a bit. I'm ready to move again

anyway. We have been here three months and I'm pretty well fed up

on the place. I have been down in Coblenz the last 9 or 10 days on

special duty. It is quite a city of about 60,000 on the Rhine, and a pret-

ty place. These Dutch have it all over anything over here when it

comes to cities or about anything else, I guess, as far as I can see.

When you go back to France you feel as if you couldn't blame the

Dutch for wanting to kick hell out of that bunch of frogs. You will

never know how near they came doing it, too.

I have no idea when we are coming home ... but I don't mind

staying over here now that there is no more fighting. The country is a

better place to spend your time in than France and the people are

ahead of any I've seen in Europe, which isn't handing them a hell of

 

 

13. Eric Ludendorff was the de facto commander of the German Army under its

titular head, Paul von Hindenburg, from 1916-1918.

• 20
 

Buckeye Doughboy                                            49

 

a lot, anything you might see in the papers about Huns and Boches to

the contrary. Someone sent me four Cleveland papers in a bundle a

while ago, and the stuff I read in them and that Literary Digest

would make you laugh. These Huns are not half as uncivilized as you

might imagine, and I've been up and down the front pretty well from

Chateau-Thierry to St. Mihiel and the only atrocities I've seen were

the ones the Allies themselves pulled off. I've never seen any decapi-

tated children, mutilated women, or crucified soldiers, and I'll bet

anything there never were any.14

I've gotten about all the stuff back that I lost, including my camera,

but you can't buy any good films over here, so I guess you won't get

any war pictures.

May 31, 1919 (letter). Germany. The helmets I sent home should

be there by this time. I suppose they took a lot more time than the

letters. Dow said they had quite a time in Cleveland the first of May

and used a tank to break up a crowd or riot. I guess that is about all

those tanks are good for anyway. I've seen them go into action several

times and I've always found them broken down and full of dead men

afterwards. I've never seen them scatter many crowds of Dutchmen.

The trouble is, if anyone wrote the real dope on the war no one

would read it. The things that impressed me the most were the

amounts of guts and blood, flies, maggots, and stink.

I told you once we had 3,400 casualties in this regiment. We had

3,623, officially.

June 17, 1919 (letter). Mayen, Germany. Today is Tuesday, June 17,

and the Germans have until Saturday to sign the peace.¹⁵ If they sign

I wouldn't be surprised if we left here sometime in July. If they don't,

I don't know when.... I live with a Dutchman now, a rich fellow,

and I have to get about half soused every night with him and his

wife. He has every kind of good wine ever made, I guess, and his ca-

pacity is unlimited. They are both certainly good entertainers. He

was in the war four years and he is a scream when he tells about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

14. Stories of German atrocities during the war were considerably exaggerated; for

example, that they crucified Canadians or made soap out of corpses. See James M.

Read, Atrocity Propaganda, 1914-1919 (New Haven, 1941) and H. C. Peterson, Propa-

ganda for War: The Campaign Against American Neutrality, 1914-1917 (Norman, 1939).

15. The Germans signed the treaty in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles on June 28,

1919.

• 21