Joseph Theadore Kohanek (1849-1967)
Joe Kohanek, son of Anthony Kohanek and Rose Buel, served in WWI. He was also an artist -- a syndicated cartoonist in the 1920's in Chicago.
Joe's World War I Diary
NOTES:
At the end of the narrative are internet sites which relate to parts of Joe's story.
Fritz - epithets for the Germans.
Boche - epithets for the Germans. French, alteration of Alboche, blend of Allemand, German; see allemande, and French dialectal caboche, cabbage, blockhead.
Wizz-bang - A shell that no sooner it was out of the gun than it was here.
Corned Willy - Canned corned beef.
dots are shown where text is unreadable, primarily at the beginning of each new page where the upper left of the page did not copy well.
Misspelling were fixed only if they were obvious errors or the word was spelled once right and once wrong, e.g. defence and defense.
Punctuation and grammar is the same as Joe wrote it unless the text was very confusing without an added comma here or there.
Boche Hunting in France
By Joe Kohanek "Doughboy"
On Saturday, August 24, 1918, we walked off of the gang plank from the steamer Washburn Liverpool that brought us safely over the great Atlantic in spite of submarines to the busy city of LeHavre, France. Le Havre is not a very large city, but its importance to France is like New York, Boston or Baltimore is to America, it is one of the finest sea ports in the world. The Ancient and odd looking buildings although beautiful in appearance were all of amazement to us Yanks who knew not the sting of war at that time. France welcomed us! Their cheer and kindness showed a sisterly spirit towards their new ally which made us feel more at home than even while at the camps in the states. We paraded through the city then walked up a large hill which was right on the coast. There we remained over night at a rest camp which was an English affair, as there were many British soldiers, too, at this camp.
I viewed my first German prisoner for the French had a quite large prison camp located near our rest camp. On Sunday Evening we left Le Havre on a train. Boxcar DeLuxe! Although the French boxcars are not as large as those in America, they hold a great deal more at least we thought so, for we had almost standing room in them besides our eighty pound packs which contained everything from a traveling bungalow out our weapons of defense.
We rode three days and three nights passing tank towns such as Paris and a few others till we landed in a regular town in southern France. A regular town in France is really not a Venice or second Chicago, but it's a town or city or junction where there previously had not been any American soldiers! Our division was located there in a square area of about twenty miles, the companies being billeted in towns and on farms. Our company occupied a large farm. We used his field for drilling, slept in his barn and grain sheds. After two weeks of drilling and bayonet exercises
thirty-four out of our company and about half of the 48th division were sent away to another part of France to replace the 32nd Division, which had just come from the Soisine (?) front. The also had a hitch at the Chateau Terry battle and were very badly crippled as they have been in action for nearly two months, for this they were cited by the French that won them the name "the brigade terrible."
At my entry into this well-known division I was placed in Co. A of the 128th Infantry--the division was now supposed to have a rest back of the line where we joined them. This was in a town called Ganndycourt north of Dijon. We stayed there one week, practised a few maneuvers in scrimmage formations, then mounted truxes to move toward the Front. We went north through St. Deezer (?) and then northwest to 7 kilometers back of the lines. Here we stayed for two days. It was a large woods with a few old shacks that were once a French training camp. The evening of the second day we started on a hike and walked till about three that night. The sky ahead of us was lit up as bright as day from Artillery fire the Americans were then throwing over a barrage, which lasted all night. We all pitched tents on a hill near a town that had been completely shattered from high explosives and the next morning I ventured my first experience of war.
We were now on the Verdun front, although we were about five kilometers back of the lines. I saw an aeroplane blow up five observation balloons. This was a Fritz plane, but I also saw the same Fritz plane come down in smoke, somehow or another the Boche knew we were on this hill and the comensed serving us with a few G.I. cans till it got pretty hot around there, so we were forced to move but not to the rear by any means. As that very morning at 5:00 the 91st went over the top which left us in their support. At noon that day we started to hike towards the front till we got to German front line trenches. By the time we reached there, the 91st division had driven the Boche back eleven kilometers. This front had been held by the Germans since the battle in 1914.
The day before the drive, the French
take the Americans two months to drive the Boche from their
which were made of reinforced concrete and were as cosy as our
at home. 72 hours after the first gun cracked on this drive, the
retreated 11 miles. This was a wild goose chase after Boche. 5,000 prisoners were taken and many guns of all calibre. We layed here for several days in a thick woods. The weather was cold and damp. From these woods we hiked about six hours to the right flank of where the 91st had been fighting. A part of our division had taken over the front lines to relieve the 37th which had done excellent work on the right of the 91st. But we were in only a few hours until the 2nd division of regulars had caught up and relieved us. We then took over a hill and camped there.
This hill was formerly a dense wooded sector, but on our arrival we found nothing but shell holes and trees were shot down in every direction. There were many dead bodies laying about there that were not buried. We also found many Boche souvenirs-our officers instructed us not to take any of these as the Germans leave a lot of dangerous traps attached to lost helmets, rifles, etc.
At 12 o'clock of the fourth night here we started out in a column of half platoons leaving a laisone at a ten pace interval between platoons. We walked in the formation to escape as much shell fire as possible over sloughs and shell holes we plodded right along till the morning found us in close support of the 91st division. We dug ourselves in on a hillside on the edge of which was once a town. At eight o'clock that morning our major was killed by shrapnel as the Boche had been throwing them over pretty snappy that morning. Several privates were also killed by the same shell, I being about fifty feet from where it all happened, but was quite softly dug in the earth's crust as my shovel was somewhat busy every time a Wizz bang flew over.
This piece of butchery made some of quite shaky! But the fear was soon taken out of us when a voice came out of another hole--nearby some energetic doubhboy yelled!! Shoot em over Fritz, we got you faded, this is a crap! game slang, but when those ol' 75's started a barking over our heads we thought all of hell was tore loose! As the dutch call them
so you can imagine for every time they put over we gave them
That afternoon I was sent out to locate a water spring as the company was falling short of water. I had found the spring alright, but in my return I discovered the company had moved to another position. They had left no one to direct me where to find them so I kept inquiring from wounded men coming back from the lines if they knew of the whereabouts of our outfit but no one seemed to know! In fact the best thing for a lost man to do at the Front is to go the rear! but I was determined to find them, so I started out in the general direction where I heard the most noise! I came to a little slope on the side of a road and here I met two doughboys, one asked me for some hard tack, the other for a drink of water! But hard tack would have been cold turkey for either him or I shared my water with them and call it square!
"Where is the 1st bat's P.C.?" I inquired of one. "Haven't seen the outfit, buddy," So much for that, so I started out to go further. "Don't stick your dome over that bank," yelled out one. Why? I asked. "Them woods is full of Boche over the hill yuh boob!" This couldn't seem possible to me as I imagined our outfit had gone behind this road and also being anxious to see those Boche I proceeded to go over the top single handed, but I hadn't gone over five steps when Br-r-rr-r-r some Boche machine guns opened up on me. The next move was the quickest I've made in France. "You said it," I answered as I slid down the bank to the center of the road, "It's not only full of Boche, but I guess the whole German Army is in there."
This little instance must have given me a new vision as at my left about 500 meters away I noticed a company of men which I had later discovered were my outfit. That night at 12 o'clock we entered the Front lines, our position was in a town the 127 regiment had taken that afternoon. We were stationed by an old church which was only half standing. There were many wounded laying about the town as we entered. On account of the shortage of litter bearers and heavy shelling, they were not able to be taken care of, so we sent out a detail to pick up these men. Some were groaning pitifully, as they have been laying there for ten or twelve hours. One man had six bullets in him from German machine guns.
The next morning we were shelled pretty bad as the
Artillery were picking us from a flank. Killed four and wounded eleven with two shells which were direct hits. Others being scattered throughout the town. The company comander assigned me to check casual, so while checking I helped bandage a few of the wounded, one being a close friend of mine was in pretty bad shape. As we were short of litter bearers a few of us volunteered. We carried these men to a dressing station which was down the road about two kilometers. When we were coming back we passed along an old cemetery. Here we saw a doughboy standing near the corner of a stone wall. He seemed to glance around the corner every now and then, I asked him what he was up to. He said he was trying to locate the direction of a dutch sniper who had a space picked out on the road where he had good sailings! Sniper! I questioned, "impossible why we just come along the road with a wounded man and haven't heard a thing." "Alright brother, but you want to duck your going back!" And this boy sure knew what he was talking about as that boche sniper threw curves all around us before we got past the opening. At two o'clock that afternoon a platoon sargent who had been on an outpost with seven men came running in and called for the Captain! "Captain we've got them coming! Get the men ready."
This outpost was located about one hundred yards ahead of our line of resistance. The outpost crew were able to get a clear view of every move the enemy made. We all got up on our pins! And formed a line on the edge of the town. Here we layed in a prone position and waited with eagerness for the first German to show his dome!! In the meantime the Captain shot up a flare which called for an Artillery barrage and we sure got it! As the barrage came over from both sides. Our artillery fell short but the dutch seemed to spot theirs wherever they wanted to. The Captain finally shot up enough flares to lengthen our barrage, that spoiled the day for the Boche. That was one time I had a taste of being under an American barrage which was sure a hot one!! But at any rate, the counter attack the enemy put up was repulsed in a very short time.
Forty eight hours in the lines and no orders to go over the
ourselves quite lucky! And still better news came that
to be relieved sometime before morning by a regiment of the 91st but why should the 91st come back when we just shortly relieved them, we wondered!! But the reason for this was we were to take up another section to the right while another division was coming up behind to take over the position getting there about eight. We established our line and waited for orders. Then the Captain read to us from a piece of paper that was to be official. It read something like this: "G.H.Q.A.E.F. information. To whom concerned, it is learned through an official statement that the enemy has made a general retreat of twenty miles on the entire front."
That ain't bad stuff eh, buddy? One doughboy would look into the other one's face. "Ah, that's all bunk, I wouldn't believe a word of that official dope anymore." "Yeh, but you can't tell! Yuh know the morale of the German army is all broke to pieces" and such were the conversation of doughboys till w-z-z-z-z-z bang! About twelve extra large G.I. cans came singing around us that we spoiled all the good news that had just been read! At five minutes of two, the captain told us we were going over at Zero o'clock-Zero is a time set that no one but the Captain knows and is generally used for the time of going over the top, but this day Zero was exactly at two.
We lined up in a scrimmage formation and ahead of us were hedges of brush and broken trees. The Captain blew his whistle and we started out! Cigarettes in our mouths we stepped forward to meet our fate! "Kill every d-m dutchman between here and that hill over there!" yelled the Captain. He no more than said this when something sounded like a snare drum! These were machine gun bullets coming our way. Then we opened up! We crossed a patch of brush into an open field where we had the finest hunting of our lives. Here we captured several machine gun nests and about a hundred prisoners. At four o'clock we had our objectives made. We had then advanced about four kilometers. The work was very difficult
barb wire entanglements which held us back for some time
credit can be given to our advance patrol who kept cutting the wire in the heaviest of shell and machine gun fire.
Just as we reached our objective a dug out was discovered where about thirty five boche came running out with their hands up yelling 'comrade!!' One doughboy who first saw them comenced to open up on them. Two of them fell when the Captain shouted "Don't shoot them, take them prisoners." "Yes, sir!" replied the doughboy, "but you said to kill every d-m dutchman up to this hill and I was just filling out my orders." Here we established a line of defense in case of a counter attack and dug ourselves in.
That night the shelling eased up and we rested quite well only for the rain which made it quiet muddy and wet, but this we didn't mind at least we wouldn't have if we could only get on the outside of some chow! Which we haven't seen in two days, chow! on the front lines comes when the rain stops but it never quits raining. A cigarette and a drink of water was our supper that night. A usual expression on the front from a hopeful doughboy is "If we don't eat today we'll probably eat tomorrow." One never feels hopeless although at times you feel your finish very near! A narrow escape is something to get used to, not to fear! For instance in dodging shells if one hits near you it doesn't pay to run away from it. It's a whole lot safer to run to the freshly made shell hole, for artillery experts will tell you that no two shells will lite in the same hole, in one village near the front I have seen three officers and twelve men almost completely wiped out by one shell.
They were in a bunch eating their mess under a roof of a half shattered building. One man escaped untouched, thirteen were killed instantly including the three officers and the other seriously wounded. Accidents of these kind are mostly due to bunching up, but again we have a man in our company who was hit on the jaw with a German 77 which is a three and a half inch shell which did not even put a scratch on him. This shell of course
duds! Are always a friendly shell, they are a dutch product that can be petted without fear! An investigation was made by the Americans of one dud to find out the reason it weren't doing its duty towards the fatherland. The reason was this: inside of the shell a piece of paper was discovered, this written on it "we are doing our bit over here see that you do yours."
Now I'm going to tell you about a dream being realised. This was the next morning and the chow detail were on their way to the front. Everybody were as hungry as wolves and surely the cooks must have put an extra piece of stake for each one of us seeing we haven't had grub! for three days! Ah! Everything looked hopeful. Way down the hill we could see the chow cans swinging on sticks with a man on each end coming along like stretcher bearers carrying the wounded! They were nearly half way up the hill when a shell made a direct hit on them that sent the detail and chow in every direction. Oh! Well! "If we don't eat today we'll probably eat tomorrow." But as luck would have it we were relieved that evening and went back into support where we ate ourselves sick.
For the next 12 days we shifted from support to the lines and back again. When at last we were finally relieved by the 89th division we expected to take a nice train ride to some quiet zone in France for a few weeks rest but that dream didn't come true for we hiked to our rest camp instead, the rest camp not being so very far away. Its location was about eight kilometers back of the lines in a woods that we had taken about a week before. We pitched our tents here as it was raining, rain is an every day occurrence here. Anybody that calls France a sunny place never saw France! And those of us who were lucky to salvage a shelter half had a tent to sleep in. Others had to put up the best they could under trees and hedges, but necessity as we know is the mother of inventions and it wasn't long till we had cottages, shacks and dugouts made. These we built of sticks and sod, which when completed were quite comfortable.
It finally stopped raining one day and the sun come pretty near showing itself, only for a cloud that followed it to the horizon. This was about the tenth day we were here. Plans were made then for a big maneuver seeing that the weather let up. So we went out over the fields and hills to work out a problem that the general planned, which was a new way of capturing machine gun nests. This new system was worked in this way. When the enemy machine gunner opened up on us, a certain four men were to rush ahead of the front wave in double time and carrel the gunner while the others dropped and layed in a prone position. In case the first four were bumped off another four were ready to make the attack, a sort of a relay race. By this plan the general figured more lives could be spared from the machine gun fire, but unfortunately this maneuver was not a success as some of the old veterans of the company knew that the old way of getting a gunner was a more sure and better way: when one had a machine gunner ahead of you pecking point blank, use your own judgement of capturing him. So evidently the new plans were not used in our later battles. The next move we made happened on a Sunday morning, it was towards the Sedan front Ease of the muse some. Very clever operations at this sector had been pulled by the 5th division. They had driven the enemy across the muse with a very small loss to their men. The bridge ahead of them had been blown to pieces by the retreating boche but this problem was quickly solved. Pontoon boats were used which were drawn by ropes with men on each side of the river. On the enemy's side of the river was a very steep bank while on our side the surface was level. Several German locomotives and about 30 cars were captured in a town on the west side of the river. The enemy had fine pecking here but they didn't seem to stop on the East bank long enough to do any damage, about three kilometers past the river the 5th divison had met with a problem.
They found that the enemy's resistance had been growing stronger and not only this but they were handicapped by an enormous odds in manpower so reinforcements were called immediately. The 128th infantry, the regiment I was with, were in close
time to the 5th division. Therefore we were called on to leap frog the 9th infantry and keep the enemy on the run, gallop would be a more proper word as we sure did gallop for about six miles. The boche at first showed fight but were soon overpowered and were put on the run, would almost take a high powered motorcycle to keep up with them. Here we met with some very steep and high hills which made it very difficult for us to keep an even scrimmage line, after advancing about six kilometers we rested to reorganize and establish a new line. Our casualties now had been about ten percent of the company. Here we dug ourselves in as everything was very quiet. The enemy artillery were moving back while the American gunners were moving up to new positions, so while this operation was going on the air was silent from Wiz bangs for a few hours.
We remained in this position for several days. The french infantry were on our right and the 5th division to our left. On the morning of November 10th an order came to attack. This was the day before the armistice and at that time we knew nothing of the armistice but the french officers knew and while they were ordered to attack with us, they refused, knowing that all hostilities would cease the following day at noon of the tents we batted against the enemy and one of the hardest and bloodiest battles I've seen was taking place. The enemy was now stubborn. He knew that the following day would be peace and therefore did not want to be attacked on, but the day was foggy and we knew not what we were bucking up against.
Our battalion went forward until its former fighting strength of 600 men was reduced to 132 men. The Germans here we were told after the Armistice had 6,000 fresh troops and would have held at all costs, but our bat. kept on wedging against the great odds until the second battalion at our left had lost track in the dense fog, and as I've said before, the french had not made any attempt to advance. So we were left almost surrounded by Germans, and in spite of the heavy fog the enemy realized their advantageous position and commenced to surround our battalions. We soon discovered what we were up against and the quickest way back to the line of support was the safest but we dared not retreat to the line of resistance in the daytime as the enemy would have killed almost every man before he got back. We now discovered we were two kilometers ahead of our main support so the major told us we would remain in this position and defend ourselves until nightfall, then we would move back, but the enemy was making it hotties (?) for us every minute we could see we would be doomed if we remained another hour.
We could see boche every direction we looked creeping on us. The whole battalion would have been capture or killed in another half hour. It was a hair raising scene, machine guns were heard spating at every move we made. The major, realizing this terrible danger, ordered 20 men to remain on post and open fire in rapid style toward the enemy which would hold them until the remainder of the battalion retreated to the line of resistance. During this operation we had lost a great deal of men about 26 were taken prisoners and in the neighborhood of about 60 casualties to the company. Our outpost returned that night and a new line was formed, ready at a minute's notice. Everyone waited for the next orders tired, half exhausted, and hungry.
The night fell upon us, flashes in the sky from artillery could be seen on both sides and every now and then the concussion from a high explosive would ring in our ears and a murmur from some doughboy who would say, "I'll sure celebrate the day those G.I. cans will quit busting." Although sleepy as we were, we laid awake and watched for every move across no man's land. Morning came. Orders were to "go over" at 7 o'clock but no one shirked. Packs on our back and already for a scrimmage line when the word came "the Armistice, no firing after eleven o'clock." Just think of it fellers, no more G.I. cans busting around you, nor more going over the top. Hully Gee. We can't believe it."
But it was true, up to one minute to eleven, men had fallen and lives were sacrificed. Unfortunate it was indeed for those who had last fallen, but heroes we had many of them in our little battalion and long will they be remembered, not only the their buddies who fought beside them, but by a country who offered them that liberty and democracy may predominate over autocracy.
The Watch on the Rhine
The 32nd Division in the Army of Occupation
I
At the signing of the Armistice the 128th infantry held a position in the front lines with a regiment of French infantry on our right and the sixth infantry of American doughboys on our left. The barking of the Artillery guns had ceased and the frightful humming of enemy planes were out of sight. Everything seemed quiet on the Western front for the first time in nearly fifty-three months was now silent with the dawn of a World Peace in view.
We remained on the lines one week after the signing of the Armistice and then started forward towards the historic Rhine with the regimental band in the lead playing good old American Airs. Generals, colonels, and majors all ahead of the advancing doughboys--some difference than when one had to knock three or four dutch men and carrel several machine gun nests every two hundred yards so that the way might be cleared for advancing. Although it seemed unbelievable we took our chance just the same and marched in a column of fours along the winding and dusty roads towards the Rhine. Day by day we hiked at the rate of thirty kilometers a day. The country of Luxembourg gave us a hearty welcome. American and French flags were flying everywhere and they assisted our tired troopers by giving them hot coffee and their doors were opened to us where warm fireplaces gave us all the comforts and relaxities that home commodities can provide.
The food situation had not been so terrible crippled by the effects of war but there were certain shortages such as fats and sweets, and bread was rationed, but still everyone had plenty potatoes and vegetables were of abundance. At nearly every house I've stayed during the hike I was given a hot meal and a warm and comfortable place to sleep in. At the end of our hike through Luxembourg we stayed one week on the boarder of Germany, here was a fair sized town called Rosport. A river almost surrounded this little city which was the boundary that to the enemy's side of the river were high hills artistically beautiful. On all sides of them could be seen winding roads where German troops were gradually moving back as a beaten nation. We were closely on to their heels during this hike and constantly. When we arrived into a town on the road leading out could be seen the last enemy troop just leaving. Many allied prisoners were returning, some of them who had walked several hundred miles told some pitiful stories of the ill treatment they received. In many cases they were let loose without any supply of food, neither were they directed which way to go, thereby causing them to walk many extra miles. The most of them we met were British soldiers. We gave them our best assistance by supplying them with sufficient food and shoes. And what other necessities they needed.
II
On the first day of December, Marshall Foch ordered the Army of Occupation, British, French, and American to enter German territory. We all impatiently waited for the time to set foot on the last stretch towards the Rhine. I visioned the Rhine as the most beautiful river in the world. I had read of Coblenz, a city of wonders, the statue of William at the mouth of the Moselle, the Kaiser's Castle, and many other places of history fame. All of these I was eager to see. As we crossed the little river that almost surrounded the city of Rosport and followed the trails of the enemy over the hills and valleys, we didn't really know what to expect from the people of the enemy country. Although we didn't think we were an invading Army, still we felt curious. And thinking soon brought us into a German Village, the first village we come to I saw no one, completely deserted, not even a youngster to be seen on the street. The second village we come to there was a small crowd of women and children on the streets.
They all watched us in amazement, some of them sneaking in questions whether we would destroy their property or harm them. All this to my opinion showed guilty conscience. They knew of their rape in Belgium and northern France and so they expected that we were the same kind of beasts as what their Army composed of, but in contrast they found the American Army mostly made up of Gentlemen who approached them with Politeness and courtesy. During our trip to Coblenz I have talked with many German soldiers that were mustered out while their army marched ahead of us. I was able to pump them for a lot of personal opinion in regards to their failure of winning the war. A great deal of them were men we fought against in the last battle before the Armistice. The majority of them favored the abdication of the Kaiser and insisted that he be punished while others only shirked when asked of their opinion and said nothing. One of them said to me that we were foolish to attack the last day as we did, for they had made up among themselves to quit if the Armistice was not signed.
Among some of the information I got was of their clever way of knowing what units were fighting against them, by this I mean they knew what infantry or division they were up against. There was a certain American division they feared, and feared them so bad that may not their own men were shot on account of straggling and deserting the lines-they found it a hard task of keeping a military morale when opposite these veteran American divisions. Thereby in many cases troops had to be moved from quieter sectors to these fronts without rest. I was also informed that the food was not the main cause of their collapse but the clever way Marshall Foch had conducted his offensive, his ever surprising attacks and continuous driving had worn out their troops and they soon lost all faith in winning while they held only in prospect of an early Armistice.
III
As we entered Coblenz I expected our long journeys hiking was over with, but it wasn't. We still had 30 kilometers beyond the Rhine to where our outposts were to be located. The 32nd division was to occupy the town of Dierdorf, Saine, Pudabach, and Raubach, the 2nd division to their right, and the 1st to our left. The outpost sections of the three divisions formed a semi-circle from about 50 kilometers West of Coblenz to 70 kilometers east of Coblenz, the baseline being the Rhine River while the semi-circle is that covering the bridge head.
When we arrived to our destination the billeting officers finding us a place billeted us with the dutch in their private homes, about four or five American soldiers to the house. It wasn't long until the American doughboy and the dutch housewife were carrying on a conversation, as the Dutch "poly vou" is somewhat more simple to catch on than the French lingo. Souvenir hunting was an unceasing rage and every "gott mit uns" belt buckle, iron cross rings, etc., were bought up by the doughboy. As a German prisoner once said, the French were fighting to defend themselves, the British were fighting to control sea power, and the Americans were fighting for souvenirs. I guess this dutchman was somewhat right about the latter, at least in some respects. I'm going to relate some of the plain facts concerning the German situation in the Rhine province during my stay here.
We'll take Coblenz for instance: this city has a population of about 75,000 inhabitants-it's beauty and industrial location had made it an important city of Germany-it has many manufacturing establishments, large department stores, hotels, and other accessories that make up a modern city. At my visit to Coblenz I found the White way brilliantly lighted with a gay mass of people tramping the streets that reminded one of Broadway on a Saturday night. No one would think that war had any effect on this city nor the spirit of the people showed any defects of a beaten nation, as I walked down the street I saw an electric sign which read "cafι." The front of this restaurant looked as prosperous as that of Rector's in New York. I hesitated a moment, listened for a cabaret, but I heard none. Then thinking that intermission might be on I turned and walked in.
The interior was wonderful. Each table had a vase with flowers and about three girls were the entire waitress force. I planted myself by a table. I figured I wasn't so very hungry so a little ham and eggs and a piece of apple pie would answer the purpose. Immediately one of the handsome waitresses came to my table and in plain English asked if there is anything she could do for me. "Yes," I answered, "I would like a bill of fare." "Hot chocolate cream and pie is all we have," she replied quickly. "Haven't you anything to eat," I asked, "some spuds or kraut or wieners or something? Isn't this a restaurant where folks eat their meals once in awhile?" She looked at me and laughed, laughing right square into my face until I commenced to feel almost out of place. "Yes," she said "four years ago people ate their meals here and they had men waiters and music, why this place used to be one of gayest places in Coblenz. What will yours be, ice cream or pie?" "Can't I have both?" I asked. "Yes." "What kind of pie have you?" She didn't wait to answer this question till she was off to bring my order. It wasn't long till she set before me a glass of water, a dish of ice cream, and what according to the bill of fare was to be pie.
The pie crust was made of black flour which would have made excellent shoe leather. Over this was laid a mixture of what is commonly known in Germany as marmalade. The ice cream was colored artificial ice, camouflaged so that it would make one's mouth water to look at it. When I retreated from this banquet I relaxed my appetite at the army H.Q.'s kitchen with corned willy and hard tack.
Let us now interview the German Kale, or what is more commonly known as money. They have the marks and the fennigs. It takes 100 fennigs to equal one mark. One mark at about the first of the year 1919 was equal to 13 American cents. When a dutch merchant sells goods to the native people fennigs are commonly used in exchange, such as a stein of beer which is sold for about 40 fennigs, and if the American soldier wants a glass of beer he has to take two large steins and a snitt, or a small glass, for one mark, as he doesn't understand the collaboration of money exchange. And furthermore, cash registers are very seldom seen in this country and the dealer is forced to dig through a heap of currency every time he changes a mark into fennigs. The impatient American can't afford to waste all this time, so he purchases most of his goods wholesale.
IV
It is of some interest to watch the doughboy when the bugler blows payday on the Rhine. One month we were paid all in German coin and while some of us who had three of four months pay coming had an enormous roll of marks. To the buck private one hundred marks looks like a nickel back in the states as the close resemblance of marks to cagar coupons make them not so attractive as real money. "Crap" games are the main pastime and while the captain is still paying off the company, some of the bucks at the head of the line would yell out "shoot two hundred," "yer faded" rang out from another part of the room and the "buck" lost, but that was nothing because when he was broke it was simply easy for him to tuck up John Smith for a hundred franks, that being about twenty bucks in American currency. John Smith as you know was a buck private, too, and all he said when Jimmy asked him for a hundred was "you better take two, then y'all won't have to bother me for awhile."
In nearly all the small towns there is a hall or building where dancing and amusement had once been the social pastime for the local inhabitants, but all of that had been done away with since the war. The dutch belles were not so attractive as the gay mademoiselles of France, the most of them are seen oddly dressed wearing men's shoes or their famous trench boots. When the Americans first came here, amusement and shows were unknown, but the soon found a way to rehearsals, were going on in burlesque vaudeville, and dramas that were conducted by a lot of professional actors, but to make a play a success a lady is necessary and this problem was soon solved. All the better-looking boys were dressed ladies' wardrobes that came direct from the leading Paris style shops. To see them all toged up and dancing they showed a wonderful impersonation of feminism. Their superior style creations and fox-trotting have evidently got the "dutch girls" going (this element may develop into an Americanized German "Kulture.)"
One does not see a newspaper in any of the smaller cities, the official "dope" such as who died last week or how much wood the Crown Prince chopped before breakfast is given to the populace by an old man who rings a bell on the street corner to call out his audience. He then tells them all he heard and how much and what they are to eat that day. His dope is not copyrighted, but is more safely protected on account that no one can understand him-there could be a lot to write of Germany's present and what she will probably have to contend with in the future, but my interests at the present writing are turned far from Germany for across a great body of water a country lies that was once known as the West Indies, its Wonderful people, cities, railroads, and advanced accessories makes it the greatest land on earth. And one does not learn to appreciate and love his America until he has been away from it for some time.
Homeward Bound
Written On Board the SS George Washington, May 1st, 1919
XC and C - Commander in Chief
"Then t'hell we going home?" This was yelled almost by the count by the entire division at the close of General John J. Pershing's speech made after his inspection of the 32nd at Dierdorf Germany across the Rhine on March the 15th of last, such a gigantic mob. One has no realization of the size of a division until he has seen them pushed and squeezed together as we were in order to get the benefit of the Commander in Chief's delicate voice as he tried to bid a fond farewell to a mass of helmeted doughboys who with open mouths listened for a date set to sail to the good old U.S.A., but the date he did not tell us. And so there were a quite a few disappointed in the heartfelt speech of the C. in Cx but a month more had elapsed and the winding weeks of the hard winter put in Germany were coming to an end. Then it was days from days the time was set was changed into hours and from hours into minutes and then
. "o boy." The rattle tattle of motor trux that were waiting were soon filled with doughboys and full equipped packs. Now we knew we were going home! Even the girls, men and youngsters all turned out to see the boys off! in this little German town. But no sniffing was heard, although an envying look could be seen from many of the townspeople's eyes. One sergeant out of our company was left behind on account of taking too much time in saying good by to his dutch sweetheart. He will probably come home sometime later on with a casual outfit.
From Coblenz we boarded a train American boxcars deluxe on a long journey to Brest. The trip took us nearly four days. American train crews were running these trains, which assured us good speed and no delays! We arrived at Brest about four o'clock in the afternoon. Here we were given a hot meal and started a four-mile hike up a hill to the camp. Some camp! We'll say it is, so much has been said of this camp that investigations have been made on the complaints made by soldiers but what I've seen of it I shall relate in a few words. That camp has a stream of soldiers going in and out that would average many thousands a day. About forty-five thousand are billeted there waiting to sail and the crew of s.o.s. who stay there regular would run into thousands. There are boardwalks throughout the camp up and down each company street and concrete paving is under construction, how is this work done? Who are the laborers? The work is done by the most modern engineering devices, nothing but practical machinery is used such as heavy gas rollers, concrete mixers, tractor haulers, etc.! The in and out going troops are the engineers. They are building the camp and keeping it up so when one arrives at Brest he either works on the night or day shift as the have both. One works while he is there but hates to do it in the circumstances that his is going home, and wonders where all the fellows that belong to the labor battalion are?
"When do we eat?" Just picture in your mind: gigantic cafeteria somewhere on Broadway or anywhere else that would accommodate comfortably 8,000 people and feed them in twenty five minutes, it would be one of the wonders of the city, at any rate, it would be some "joint." They would have to employ about 800 waiters and four or six dozen cooks. Still, such feeding establishments are in action at Brest with about a dozen cooks and somewhere in the neighborhood of forty K.P.'s, there are seven such kitchens that feed the entire camp. Some of the facts about getting a meal here are: you go through the kitchen at the rate of about 140 steps per minute, keep an eye on the cooks right hand as he slings that slum into your mess kit-if he misses your kit you're out of luck. Don't stop to pick the grub off the floor or the line will walk over you. Don't go around for seconds, that's how they get their k.p.s.
Sorry, this is when I got seasick on board the George Washington on the 2nd day out.
[end]
Internet References:
The 32nd Division
The armistice silenced the guns of WWI at 11:00AM on November 11, 1918.
Cities:
Rosport
Coblenz
Coblenz
Coblenz
"No study is possible on the battlefield; one does there simply what one can in order to apply what one knows. Therefore, in order to do even a little, one has already to know a great deal and know it well." "Airplanes are interesting toys, but of no military value." Marshal Ferdinand Foch