"Dress it up!"
And--
"Make it snappy!"
"One, two, three, four."
"Now you've got it!"
"That's good. Hold it!"
"Hep."
Battery D had lots of "pep" during the days of Camp Meade regime.
First Sergeant William C. Thompson, of Forest, Mississippi, kept things lively for the first few months with his little whistle, followed by the command, "Outside!"
Merrill C. Liebensberger, of Hazleton, Penna., served as the first supply sergeant of the battery. David B. Koenig, also of Hazleton, Penna., ranking first as corporal and later as sergeant, was kept busy with office work, acting in the capacity of battery clerk. Lloyd E. Brown, of East Richmond, Indiana, served as the first instrument sergeant of the battery. John M. Harman, of Hazleton, Penna., was the first signal-sergeant to be appointed.
It might be remarked in passing that Messrs. Thompson, Liebensberger, and Harman were destined for leadership rank. Before the outfit sailed for overseas all three had gained application to officers' training schools, and were, in the course of time, commissioned as lieutenants. Battery Clerk Koenig continued to serve the outfit in an efficient manner throughout its sojourn in France. Instrument-Sergeant Brown early in 1918 answered a call for volunteers to go to France with a tank corps. While serving abroad he succumbed to an attack of pneumonia and his body occupies a hero's resting place in foreign soil.
A wonderful spirit was manifested in the affairs of Battery D despite the fact that the constant transfer of men greatly hampered the work of assembling and training a complete battery for active service in France. Men who spent weeks in mastering the fundamentals of the soldier regulations were taken from the organization, to be replacedby civilians, whereby the training had to start from the beginning. This caused many changes in plans, systems, and policies. Rejections were also made for physical disabilities.
For the greater part of the Camp Meade history of the battery, the organization lacked sufficient men to perform all the detail work. Thus days and days passed without any military instruction being imparted.
Instruction in army signalling by wigwag and semaphore was started whenever a squad or two could be spared from the routine of detail. Then followed instruction on folding horse blankets, of care of horses and harness, and lessons in equitation, carried out on barrels and logs.
Stables and corrals were in the course of construction. By the time snow made its appearance in November horses were received, also more detail.
First lessons in the duties of gun-crews and driving squads were also attempted. Matériel was a minus quantity for a long time, wooden imitations sufficing for guns until several 3.2's were procured for the regiment. Later on the regiment was furnished with five 3-inch U. S. field pieces. Training then assumed more definite form. For weeks and weeks the gun crews trained without any prospects of ever getting ammunition and firing actual salvos.
Learning to be a soldier also developed into a process of going to school. Men were assigned to attend specialty classes. Schools were established for gunners, schools for snipers, schools for non-commissioned officers. Here it might be stated that the first non-coms envied the buck-privates when it came to attending non-commissioned officers' school one night a week when all the bucks were down enjoying the show at the Y hut or the Liberty Theatre.
Schools were started for all kinds of special and mechanical duty men; schools to teach gas-defense; buzzer schools; telephone schools; smoke-bomb and hand-grenade courses; and map-reading and sketching schools. Sergeant Earl H. Schleppy, of Hazleton, Penna., who assisted in the battery office work before he was appointed supply-sergeant, developed extra lung capacity while the various schools were in progress. It became his duty to assemble the diverse classes prior to the start of instruction. He was kept busy yelling for the soldiers to assemble for class work.
It soon developed in the minds of the men that war-time military life was mostly drudgery with only the personal satisfaction of doing one'sduty. Hardships and drudgery, however, did not mar the ambition of the soldier for recreation. Baltimore and Washington were nearby and passes were in order every Saturday to visit these cities.
Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, during the first few months of camp life, were off-periods for the soldiers, but later Wednesday afternoon developed as an afternoon of sport and the men took keen interest in the numerous athletic interests which were promoted.
On Tuesday, November 6th, a half-holiday was proclaimed and Election Day observed throughout the camp. The soldiers who availed themselves of the opportunity of marking the complicated soldier ballot that was provided, cast the last vote, in many instances, until after their official discharge.
Daily hikes were on the program in the beginning to develop a hardness of muscle in the new soldiers. Lieut. Robert Campbell was in charge of the majority of the daily hikes at the off-set. His hobby was to hike a mile then jaunt a mile. When it came to long distant running Lieut. Campbell was on the job. He made many a soldier sweat in the attempt to drag along the hob-nailed field shoes on a run. Hikes later were confined to Wednesday afternoon.
Battery D always put up a good showing in the numerous athletic contests. On Saturday, November 10th, the Battery won the second banner in the Inter-Battalion Meet; in celebration of which a parade and demonstration was held on the afternoon of the victory day.
Music was not lost sight of. The boys of Battery D collected the sum of $175 for the purchase of a piano for barrack 019. Phil Cusick, of Parsons, Penna., was the one generally sought out to keep the ivories busy. November 19th witnessed the first gathering together of the regiment on the parade grounds for a big song fest under the leadership of the divisional music director. Battery and battalion song jubilees were conducted at intervals in the O block Y hut.
Towering like a giant over the uniform type of barrack and buildings at Camp Meade, stood a large observation tower, situated on what was known as the "plaza," the site of divisional headquarters. A general panorama from this tower was an inspiring sight. Radiating from the plaza, extending for several miles in any direction the gaze was focused, there appeared the vista of the barracks of the troops together with the sectional Y. M. C. A.'s canteens, stables, corrals and other supply and administration buildings; also the interposing, spacious drill fields.
The beauty of this scene was enhanced by the mantle of snow that often garbed it during the winter mouths. To see a city of 40,000 in such uniformity as marked the cantonment construction; with its buildings covered with snow; the large drill fields spread with a blanket of snow; and, a snow storm raging--is a tonic for any lover of nature.
On the night of Wednesday, November 28th, the first snow greeted the new soldiers at Camp Meade. The ground, robed in white, breathed the spirit of the approaching holiday season. The coming of Thanksgiving found discussion in 019 centered on the subject of passes to visit "home."
On November 24th fifteen of D battery men were granted forty-eight hour leaves and departed for their respective homes. All the officers remained in camp and planned with the men to enjoy the holiday.
The Thanksgiving dinner enjoyed by Battery D was one never to be forgotten in army life. Mess-Sergeant Al Loughran and the battery cooks, ably championed by the K. P.'s, worked hard for the success of the Thanksgiving battery dinner. Battalion and battery officers dined with the men, the noon-mess being attendant by the following menu:
Oyster CocktailSnowed Potatoes Roast Turkey Turkey FillingCranberry Sauce Celery PeasOranges Apples Candy Cake NutsBread Butter CoffeeMince PieCigarettes Cigars
Sweetdreams of this dinner often haunted the boys when "bully-beef" was the mainstay day after day many times during the sojourn in France.
After the dinner officers and battery members adjourned to the second floor of the barrack where battery talent furnished an entertainment, consisting of instrumental and vocal numbers and winding up with several good boxing bouts. Barney McCaffery, of Hazleton, Penna., a professional pugilist, was the pride of the battery in the ring.
Corporal Frank McCabe, of Parsons, Penna., was one of the real comedians of the battery. His character impersonations enlivened many an evening in 019. Every member of the outfit was deeply grieved when Corporal McCabe was admitted to the base-hospital the latter part of January, suffering with heart trouble. On January 24th at 8:20 p. m., Corporal McCabe died. This first casualty of the battery struck a note of sympathetic appeal among the battery members. A guard of honor from the battery accompanied the body to Parsons where interment was made with military honors.
After Thanksgiving Battery D settled down to an intensive schedule of instruction. Days of rain, snow, and zero weather followed, making the routine very disagreeable at times, but never acting as a demoralizer. Days that could not be devoted to out-door work were used to advantage for the schedule of lecture periods during which the officers conducted black board drills to visualize many of the problems connected with artillery work.
On December 6th, 1917, a series of regimental practice marches were instituted, first on foot, then on mount. The first mounted marches, however, were rather sore-ending affairs, as were the first lessons in equitation. Saddles and bridles were lacking as equipment for many weeks after the receipt of the horses. Mounted drill, riding bare-back, with nothing but a halter chain as a bridle, was the initiatory degree of Battery D's equitation.
Barrack 0103, about half the size and situated in the rear of 019, was completed on December 19th, when a portion of Battery D men were quartered in the new structure, thereby relieving the congestion in 019.
Christmas and New Year's of 1917 furnished another controversy on the question of holiday furloughs. On Saturday, December 15th, inspection was called off and forty men were detailed to bring morehorses from the Remount station for use in the battery. The detail completed its task faithfully, the men being happy in the thought that, according to instructions, they had, the night previous, made application for Christmas passes. Gloom greeted the end of the day's horse convoy. Announcement was made that all Christmas pass orders had been rescinded in the camp.
The gloom was not shattered until December 20th, when announcement was made at retreat formation that half of the battery would be allowed Christmas passes and the other half would be given furloughs over New Year's Day. The loudest yell that ever greeted the "dismissed" command at the close of retreat, rent the atmosphere at that time.
More disappointments were in store for the boys before their dreams of a furlough home were realized. Saturday, December 22nd, was decreed a day of martial review at Camp Meade. Secretary of War Newton D. Baker visited the cantonment that day and the review was staged in his honor. Battery D formed with the regiment on the battery street in front of 019 at 1:20 o'clock on the afternoon of the review. The ground was muddy and slushy. The regiment stood in formation until 3:15 o'clock when the march to pass the reviewing stand started. At 4:30 o'clock the review formation was dismissed and the boys dashed back to 019 to get ready to leave on their Christmas furloughs.
It was a happy bunch that left 019 at 5:15 p. m. that day, under the direction of Lieut. Berkley Courtney, bound for the railroad station and home. An hour later the same bunch were seen trudging back to 019. Their happiness had suddenly taken wing. A mix-up in train schedules left them stranded in camp for the night, while the hours of their passes slowly ticked on, to be lost to their enjoyment.
The "get-away" was successfully effected the next morning, Sunday, December 23rd, when the same contingent marched to Disney, reaching the railroad yard at 7:30 o'clock, where they were doomed to wait until 9:15 a. m. until the train left for Baltimore.
More favorable train connections fell to the lot of the New Year's sojourners to the land of "home."
"This is some job."
And the opinion was unanimous when stable detail at Camp Meade was in question, especially during the winter of 1917-18, which the Baltimore weather bureau recorded as the coldest in 101 years. Stable detail at first consisted of five "buck" privates, whose duty it was to take care of "Kaiser," "Hay-Belly," and all the other battery horses for a period of three days.
When on stable detail you arose at 5:45 a. m.; quietly dressed, without lights, went to the stables and breakfasted the animals. If you were a speed artist you might get back in time for your own breakfast.
After breakfast you immediately reported to the stable-sergeant, who was Anthony Fritzen, of Scranton, Penna. The horses were then led to the corral and the real stable duties of the day commenced. In leading the horses through the stable to the corral, the length of your life was dependant upon your ability to duck the hoofs of the ones remaining in the stables.
When it came to cleaning the stables, many a "buck" private made a resolve that in the next war he was going to enlist as a "mule-skinner." Driving the battery wagon bore the earmarks of being a job of more dignity than loading the wagon.
Besides cleaning the stables and "graining-up" for the horses, the day of the stable police was spent in miscellaneous jobs, which Sergeant Fritzen never ran out of.
The stable detail underwent changes as time wore on. A permanent stable man was assigned for every stable and the detail was reduced to three privates.
Stable police was of double import on Saturday mornings, preparatory to the weekly inspection. Every branch and department of military life has a variety of inspections to undergo at periodical times. The inspections keep the boys in khaki on the alert; cleanliness becoming second nature. Nowhere can a vast body of men live bachelor-like as soldiers do and maintain the degree of tidiness and general sanitary healthfulness, as the thorough arm of camp inspection and discipline maintains in the army.
Adaily inspection of barracks was in order at Camp Meade. Before the boys answered the first drill formation each morning they did the housework. Everything had to be left spick and span. There was a specific place for everything and everything had to be kept in its place.
With mops and brooms and plenty of water the barracks were given a good scrubbing on Friday afternoons and things put in shape for the Saturday morning inspection. Besides the cleanup features a display of toilet articles and wearing apparel had to be made. When the inspectors made their tour each bunk had to show a clean towel, tooth brush, soap, comb, pair of socks, and suit of underwear. The articles had to be displayed on the bunk in a specific manner.
"Show-Down" inspections were a big feature of the routine. This inspection required the soldier to produce all his wares and equipment for inventory. The supply officer and supply sergeant of the battery made many rounds taking account of equipment that was short, but several more "show-downs" usually transpired before the lacking equipment was supplied.
There was also a field inspection every Saturday morning, where the general appearance of the soldier could be thoroughly scrutinized. Clean-shaven, neatly polished shoes, clean uniform with buttons all present and utilized, formed the determining percentage features. When the inspection was mounted, horses and harness had to shine, the same as the men.
January 1920 ushered in a period of changes in the staff of officers for Battery D, some of the changes being temporary, others permanent. Trials of sickness and quarantine were also in store for the battery.
Early in January Capt. A. L. Smith was called away from his military duties on account of the death of his father, Edward B. Smith, of Philadelphia, Penna.; a bereavement which brought forth many expressions of sympathy from the men of his command.
Captain Smith returned to camp the latter part of the month. Some time later he was ordered to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to attend the artillery school of fire. Lieut. Hugh M. Clarke also left the battery to attend the school of fire. First-Lieut. Arthur H. McGill was detached from the battery about this time and assigned as an instructor at the Officers' Training School that was opened at Camp Meade. Lieut. Robert S. Campbell was transferred from Battery D at this time.
First-Lieut.Robert Lowndes, of Elkridge. Md., was assigned to temporary command of the battery. First-Lieut. J. S. Waterfield, of Portsmouth, Va., served as an attached officer with D Battery for some time.
First Sergeant William C. Thompson and Supply Sergeant Merle Liebensberger were successful applicants to the officers' training school at Meade. James J. Farrell, of Parsons, Penna., was appointed acting first-sergeant and Thomas S. Pengelly, of Hazleton, Penna., was appointed acting supply sergeant, both appointments later being made permanent.
"Retreat," the checking-in or accounting for all soldiers at the close of a day's routine, was made a formal affair for the 311th Field Artillery on January 13th, 1918. The erection of a new flag pole in front of regimental headquarters furnished occasion for the formal formation when the Stars and Stripes are lowered to the strain of "The Star Spangled Banner" or the "Call to the Colors."
When the formal retreat was established Battery D was in the throes of a health quarantine. A case of measles developed in the battery and an eighteen-day quarantine went into effect on January 19th. About a score of battery members, who were attending speciality schools and on special detail work, were quartered with Battery E of the regiment while the quarantine lasted.
On March 24th scarlet fever broke out and a second quarantine was put into effect. This quarantine kept Battery D from sharing in the Easter furloughs to visit home.
The regular routine of fatigue duty and drill formations took place during the quarantine periods, the restrictions being placed on the men leaving the battery area between drill hours.
On March 6th Battery D took occasion to celebrate. The battery kitchen had been thoroughly renovated by Mechanic Grover C. Rothacker and Mechanic Conrad A. Balliet, both of Hazleton, Penna., the renovation placing it in the class of "The best kitchen and mess hall in camp," to quote the words of Major General Joseph E. Kuhn, divisional commander, when he inspected Battery D on Saturday, March 23rd.
A fine menu was prepared for the banquet that was held on the night of March 6th. Col. Raymond Briggs and the battalion officers were guests at the banquet and entertainment that was furnished in the barracks until taps sounded an hour later than usual that night.
Details continued to play a big part in the life of Battery D. On March 11th the first detail of fifty men was sent to repair the highway near Portland. These details had a strenuous time of it; the hardest work most of the detail accomplished was dodging lieutenants.
Transfers had made big inroads in the battery's strength. Guard duty fell to the lot of the battery once a week. When the guard detail wasfurnished there were scarcely enough men left to do the kitchen police work and other detail work. It was a time when rank imposed obligation. Sergeants and corporals had to get busy and chop wood and carry coal and wash dishes and police up and in many other ways imitate the buck private.
On March 5th Lieut. Frank Yeager inaugurated a system of daily inspections at retreat, when the two neatest appearing men in line were cited each day and rewarded with a week-end pass to visit Baltimore or Washington, while those who got black marks for the week were put on detail work over the week-end. A list of honorable mentions was also established for general tidiness at "bunk" inspections.
Rumor was ever present at Camp Meade. Almost every event that transpired was a token of early departure overseas, or else the "latrine-dope" had it that the outfit was to be sent to Tobyhanna for range practice.
The first real evidence of overseas service presented itself during March when physical examinations were in order to test the physical fitness for overseas duty. Several, who it was deemed could not physically stand foreign service, were in due time transferred to various posts of the home-guards. Several transfers were also made to the ordnance department; a number of chemists were detached from the battery, and transfers listed for the cooks' and bakers' school, for the quartermasters, for the engineers, for the signal corps, in fact men were sent to practically all branches in the division.
On Saturday, March 30th, wrist watches were turned to 11 o'clock when taps sounded, ushering in the daylight savings scheme that routed the boys out for reveille during the wee dark hours of the morning.
Training during April centered on actual experience in taking to the march with full mounted artillery sections. April 4th, 1918, found a detail from Battery D leaving camp at 8 a. m., with a section of provisional battery, enroute to Baltimore to take part in the big parade in honor of the opening of the Liberty Loan drive on the first anniversary of America's entrance into the war. While in Baltimore the outfit pitched camp in Clifton Park. The parade, which was reviewed by President Woodrow Wilson, took place on Saturday, April 6th. The detachment returned to camp by road on Sunday, April 7th.
DuringApril a decree went forth to the Battery that set details at work every day clipping horses. Every one of the one hundred and sixty-four battery horses was clipped.
The morning of Friday, April 26th, was declared a holiday at Camp Meade; all units being called forth to participate in a divisional parade and Liberty Loan rally.
A battery hike in march order was set for May 6th. The battery took to the road at 8 a. m., and drove through Jessup, thence to West Elkridge, Md., a distance of sixteen miles, where camp was pitched and the battery remained for the night, returning to camp the following afternoon after several firing problems in the field were worked out by proxy fire.
Chances for a quick departure overseas began to warm up about the middle of May, which perhaps was responsible for the big divisional bon-fire that was burned on the night of May 13th.
Capt. Perry E. Hall, Lieut. Sidney F. BennettOfficers Associated with Battery DLieut. C. D. Bailey, Lieut. Frank J. Hamilton
Capt. Perry E. Hall, Lieut. Sidney F. Bennett
Officers Associated with Battery D
Lieut. C. D. Bailey, Lieut. Frank J. Hamilton
First authentic signs of departure from Camp Meade came during the month of June when the boys witnessed the departure of the infantry regiments of the division.
Void of demonstrative sendoff, regiment after regiment, fully and newly equipped, was departing on schedule; thousands and thousands of sturdy Americans, ready to risk all for the ideals of liberty and freedom.
It was with no unsteady step they marched through the streets of the military city that had sheltered, trained, tanned, and improved them aright for the momentous task which was before them.
The scene, as they marched, is one that will live in memory of the boys of Battery D. It was no dress parade such as the march of like thousands in a civilian city would occasion. Battery D men and others were spectators, it is true, and the departing ones were sent off, as was later the case with Battery D, with cheers of encouragement and words of God-speed--the spirit breathed being of hearty, thoughtful patriotism such as can come only from a soldier who is bidding adieu to a comrade in arms, whom he will meet again in a common cause.
Wonderful days of activity within Battery D foretold the news of departure. The regiment was in first class shape to look forward to service overseas, despite the fact that range-practice was a negligible factor. During the latter part of May, firing, to a limited extent, was practiced from the three-inch field pieces directed over the Remount station, but the experience thus gained was too light to be important. About this time a French type of 75 mm. field piece was shipped to the regiment. Major David A. Reed became the instructor on this gun, when it became known that the outfit would likely be given French equipment upon arrival overseas. One gun for the regiment, however, and especially when received only several weeks in advance of the departure for overseas, afforded but little opportunity for general instruction on the mechanism of the new field piece.
France, moreover, was the goal and the real range practice was left as a matter of course for over there.
All activity centered on getting ready to depart. The battery carpenters and painters were kept busy making boxes and labelling them properlyfor the "American E. F." Harness was being cleaned and packed. The time came for the horses to be returned to the Remount station. Supply sergeants were busy as bees supplying everybody with foreign service equipment. It proved a common occurrence to be routed out of bed at midnight to try on a pair of field shoes. All articles of clothing and equipment had to be stamped, the clothing being stamped with rubber stamps, while the metal equipment was stamped with a punch initial. Each soldier got a battery number which was stamped on his individual equipment.
On June 28th, Joseph Loskill, of Hazleton, Penna., and William F. Brennan, of Hazleton and Philadelphia, Penna., were assigned to accompany the advance detail of the regiment. Lieut. Arthur H. McGill was the Battery D officer to accompany the advance detail, which left Camp Meade about 7 p. m., proceeding to Camp Merritt, N. J., for embarkation. The advance guard arrived at Jersey City the following morning at 6 o'clock, where they detrained and marched to the Ferry to get to Hoboken. There the detachment was divided, the officers boarding the S. S. Mongolia, the enlisted men the S. S. Duc d'Abruzzi. The ships left Hoboken at 10:30 a. m., May 30th, bound for Brest.
Battery D was filled to full war-strength during the first week of July, just before departure, when the outfit received a quota of 150 men who came to the regiment from the Depot Brigade. Five hundred and forty came to the regiment from Camp Upton, N. Y., and Camp Dix, N. J., and fifty from the signal corps in Florida.
In the front door and out of the back of 019 the battery passed in alphabetical line in rehearsal of the manner in which the gang plank of the ship was to be trod. Departure instruction likewise included hikes to the electric rail siding to practice boarding the cars with equipment.
The last few days in camp were marked by daily medical inspections, also daily inspections of equipment. Everybody had to drag all their equipment outside for inspection. The men were fully and newly equipped with clothing and supplies upon leaving. Two new wool uniforms, two pairs of field shoes, new underwear, socks, shirts, towels, toilet articles, and a score of other soldier necessities, were issued before leaving. All old clothing and equipment was turned in.
Each man was allotted a barrack-bag as cargo. The barrack-bag was made of heavy blue denim with about a seventy-five pound capacity,which weight was cited as the limit a soldier could obtain storage for in the ship's baggage compartments.
Although seventy-five pounds was the order, all the boys resorted to some fine packing. There were not many under the limit. Most of the boys had their knitted garments in the bag, also a plentiful supply of soap, because rumor had struck the outfit that soap was a scarce article in France. Milk chocolate and smokes were also well stocked in.
Besides the barrack-bag each soldier was provided with a haversack and pack-carrier, in which were carried--on the back--two O. D. blankets, toilet articles, extra socks, clothing, and the various articles that would be needed on the voyage across.
Saturday, July 13th, 1918, was the memorable day of departure from Camp Meade. Battery D furnished the last guard detail of the regiment at Meade. The 13th, as luck would have it, dawned in a heavy shower of rain. Reveille sounded at 5:15 a. m., after which, those who had not done so the night previous, hiked out in the rain and emptied the straw from their bed-ticks; completed the packing of their bags and packs and loaded the bags on trucks while the rain came down in torrents.
As was usually the case in army routine, early reveille did not vouch for an early departure from camp. Detail aplenty was in store for the boys all day. The last meal was enjoyed in 019 mess-hall at 5 p. m.,--then started a thorough policing up of barracks. Sweeping squads were sent over the ground a dozen times and finally the boys assembled outside on the battery assembling grounds, at 7:30 p. m., with packs ready and everything set to begin the march to entrain.
During the hours of waiting that followed the boys indulged in a few sign painting decorations. Among the numerous signs tacked to 019 were:
"For Sail. Apply Abroad."
"For Rent, for a large family; only scrappers need apply. Btry D, 311th F. A."
"Von Hindenberg dropped dead. We're coming."
It was a grand sight to see the regiment depart at 8:45 p. m. The band was playing; colors were flying at the head of the column--everybody was in high spirits. But there were no civilians to enjoy the spectacle. It was night and but few knew of the departure. The rain had ceased and twilight was deepening into darkness as the regiment, excepting Battery A, which was left in camp for police detail, to followa few days later, started on the hike; back over practically the same route the soldiers were marched from Disney to 019 when they first arrived in camp. This time they were leaving 019; marching for the last time with Battery D through the reservation of Camp Meade; marching to the railroad yards at Disney where trains were being made up to convey the regiment to a point of embarkation. But few knew whether it was to be Philadelphia, New York, or Hoboken. The men were leaving home and home-land and departing for a land of which they knew nought. What the ocean and Germany's program of relentless submarine warfare had in store for them, no one knew. All hearts were strong in the faith and all stout hearts were ready to do and to dare; content in the knowledge that they were doing their duty to their home and their country.
Land appeared in rugged outline along the horizon as the Steamship Morvada swept the waves when dusk was falling on the Tuesday evening of July 16th, 1918. It was a beautiful mid-summer's night and the boys of Battery D, in common with the members of the 311th regiment, stood at the deck railings of the S. S. Morvada and watched the outline of shore disappear under cover of darkness. The ship had been sailing since 11:30 a. m., Sunday, July 14th, at which time the Morvada had lifted anchor and slowly pushed its nose into the Delaware River; leaving behind the Philadelphia & Reading Railroad docks at Port Richmond, Philadelphia, Penna., the last link that held them to their native shores.
Surmises and guesses were rife as the ship rolled on in the darkness, leaving the boys either arguing as to the destination or else seeking their "bunk" down in the "hatch" and rolling in for the night.
It was generally agreed that the course thus far was along the coast. It was apparent that the ship was skirting coastline, because convoy protection had been given by sea-planes flying out from the naval coast stations, accompanying the transport for a distance, then disappearing landward. The boys on the transport spent many an idle hour watching the aviators circle the ship time and time again, often coming within voice range of the transport's passengers.
It was also settled that the course had been Northeast, but no one was quite certain as to location.
The morning of July 17th found the Morvada approaching land. A lighthouse appeared in the dim distance, then, as the hours passed and the ship sped on, the coast became visible and more visible, disclosing rugged country, rising high from out of the water's edge. The country, moreover, appeared waste and devastated; the land being covered with wrecked buildings that showed signs of explosive force.
Location finally became apparent as harbor scenes presented an unique picturesqueness of territory. The S. S. Morvada was in Halifax harbor, Nova Scotia, and the surrounding territory was the scene of the famous T. N. T. explosion. It was 11 o'clock on the morning of July 17th that the ship cast anchor in Halifax harbor and word was passed that all on board could remove life preservers and breathe a sigh of relief.
Tobe suddenly found in Canadian environment furnished a new thrill for the soldiers. The Saturday night previous the same soldiers were making the trip from Camp Meade to port of embarkation.
Everybody was expecting a lay over in an embarkation camp before embarking, therefore the surprise was the greater when the train that left Camp Meade at midnight on the evening of July 13th, deposited its cargo of soldiers on the pier at Port Richmond within a short distance of the ship that was waiting for its cargo of human freight before pulling anchor for the first lap of the France-bound journey.
Orders to detrain were given at 8:29 a. m. Tired and hungry the soldiers were greeted on the pier by a large delegation of Red Cross workers who had steaming hot coffee, delicious buns, cigarettes and candy to distribute to the regiment as a farewell tribute and morning appetizer. Postal cards were also distributed for the soldiers to address to their home-folks. The messages were farewell messages and were held over at Washington. D. C., until word was received that the Morvada had landed safely overseas.
At 8 a. m. the repeat-your-last-name-first-and-your-first-name-last march up the gang-plank started. Each man got a blue card with a section and berth number on; also a meal ticket appended, after which it was a scramble to find your right place in the hatch.
At 11:30 o'clock anchor was lifted; the little river tug boat nosed the steamship about; then, with colors flying, the band playing, the Morvada steamed down the Delaware; passing Hog Island in a midway of ships from which words of farewell and waves of good-bye wafted across to the Morvada. The sky-line of Brotherly Love, guarded over by William Penn on City Hall, gradually faded from view and the Sunday afternoon wore on, as the boys spent most of their first day aboard a transport on deck, watching the waves and admiring the beauties of nature, revealed in all splendor as the ever-fading shore line, viewed from the promenade deck, lost itself into the mist-like horizon of sky and water, richly enhanced by the brilliancy of a superb sunset.
The S. S. Morvada skirted the shore for some time and for the first few hours all was calm on deck. By night, however, sea-sickness began to manifest itself and there was considerable coughing up over the rail.
Besides watching the waves and the various-sized and colored fishes of the deep make occasional bounds over the crest of the foam, thesoldiers spent their time trying to get something to eat, which was a big job in itself.
The Morvada was an English boat, of small type, that was built in 1914 to ply between England and India, carrying war materials. The voyage of the 311th was the second time the Morvada was used as a transport. Except for officer personnel the ship was manned by a crew of East Indians, whose main article of wearing apparel was a towel and whose main occupation was scrubbing and flushing the decks with a hose, just about the time mess call found the soldiers looking for a nice spot to settle down with mess-kit and eating-irons. Up forward were batteries B, D, E, and F, and the Supply Company, and aft were Headquarters Company, Battery C, and the Medical Detachment. Each end of the ship had its galley along which the mess lines formed three times a day. The khaki-clad soldiers could not get used to the English system of food rationing with the result that food riots almost occurred until the officers of the regiment intervened and secured an improvement in the mess system.
The first night in Halifax harbor was a pleasant relief from the strain of suspense that attended the journey to Canadian waters. Deck lights were lighted for the first time and vied for brilliancy in the night with the other ocean-going craft assembled in the harbor. The Morvada did not dock, but remained anchored in the harbor, from where the soldiers on board could view the city and port of entry that was the capital of the Province of Nova Scotia.
To the Southeast the city of Halifax, situated on a fortified hill, towering 225 feet from the waters of the harbor, showed its original buildings built of wood, plastered or stuccoed; and dotted with fine buildings of stone and brick of later day creation.
When the soldiers on board the Morvada arose on the morning of July 18th the Halifax harbor was dotted with several more transports that had arrived during the night. The day was spent in semaphoring to the various transports and learning what troops each quartered. Official orders, however, put a stop to this form of pastime and discussion was shifted to the whys and wherefores of the various camouflage designs the troop ships sported.
During the stay at Halifax the first taste of mail censorship was doled out. Letters were written in abundance, which were treated rather roughly by two-edged scissors before the mail was conveyed to Halifax to be sent to Washington, D. C., to await release upon notificationthat the Morvada had arrived safely overseas. Many of these first letters are still held as priceless mementos by the home-folks.
Each morning of the succeeding days that the Morvada was anchored in Halifax harbor brought several new ships to cluster about in the wide expanse of water. A sufficient number for convoy across the Atlantic was gradually assembling, each ship appearing in a different regalia of protective coloration that made the harbor sight vastly spectacular.
Newspapers from the Canadian shore were brought on board each day. On July 19th the papers conveyed the information that the United States Cruiser, San Diego, was sunk that day ten miles off Fire Island by running on an anchored mine placed there by German U-boats. The Morvada had traversed the same course several days previous.
To read of such occurrence, in such environment was to produce silent thought. To be in the harbor of Halifax, within shadow of McNalis Island that rested on the waves at the mouth of the harbor, was to be in the same environment as the confederate cruiser, "Tallahassee," which slipped by night through the Eastern passage formed by McNalis Island, and escaped the Northern vessels that were watching off the western entrance formed by the island.
The time was drawing near when the Morvada was destined to creep stealthily through the night, to cross the 3,000 miles of submarine infested Atlantic.
Under serene skies on the morning of July 20th, seventeen ships, assembled in Halifax harbor, made final preparations to steam forth to the highways of the broad Atlantic.
At 9:30 o'clock that morning the convoy maneuvered into battle formation with a U. S. cruiser leading the convoy while four small sub chasers circled about in high speed and an army dirigible flew overhead. Each ship was directed in a zig zag course, a new angle of the zig zag being pointed every few minutes, a course of propellation that continued the entire route of the water way.
Good-byes were waved from ships stationed along the several miles of water course that marked the harbor's length, until the open Atlantic was reached, then the sub chasers and the dirigible turned about, leaving the seventeen transports and supply ships under the wing of the battle cruiser that proceeded to pick out the course across the ocean, to where bound no one on board, save the captain of the ship, knew.
Clad in their life preservers the soldiers idled about the decks as the convoy sped on. It was a source of delight to stand at the deck rail and watch the waves dash against the steel clad sides of the ship. On several occasions when the waves rolled high, many on board experienced the sensation of a sea bath, the stiff sea breeze carrying the seething foam high over the rail on to the deck.
To see the waves roll high created the impression of mightiness of creation; the impression of mountains rising magic like at the side of the vessel. Suddenly the ship rises to the crest of the wave and the recedence leaves one looking down into what appears like a deep cavern.
When the sun was rising in the direction one was thrilled by the beauties of the rainbow observed in the clearness of the waves, when, at the height of dashing resplendence the surging sprays descend in fountain semblance, drinking in, as it were, the very beauty of God's handiwork.
The same position on deck the boys found none the less attractive when the shades of night had fallen. On one of the first nights out the ship passed through an atmosphere of dense fog, suddenly to emerge into elements of star lit splendor, the moon, in full radiance, castinga silvery luminous path on the sparkling waves. It was a phenomena worthy of the tallest submarine risks to witness. The full moon and the very repleteness of things aesthetic gave opportunity for those who were able to portray an attitude of indifference, to tell gravely how the radiance of the night fully exposed the convoy to the U-boats that were lurking in every wave.
Established routine of transport duties and formations was continued during the ocean voyage. Ship-abandon and fire drills were a daily feature of life aboard. Each outfit had a specific place to congregate when the signal for ship-abandon drill was sounded. All that was necessary was to stand at the appointed place while the coolies, comprising the crew, scampered to the life-boats and made miniature attempts at hacking the ropes and dropping to the waves.
The promenade deck, both port and starboard sides, was in use each day accommodating group after group for half-hour periods of physical exercise. The tossing of the vessel lent itself in rhythm to the enjoyment of the calisthenics, or else it was physical exercise enough in trying to maintain an equilibrium while the arms and legs were raised alternately in eight counts.
Guard duty was firmly established on board. A guard roster numbered more men than a guard detail at Camp Meade ever required. The significance of the precise guard forms another of the mysteries of Battery D. No one went A. W. O. L. while enroute and when it came to challenging after taps, a sentry in most cases could not be greeted by the customary answer, "a friend," although the challenged party was a friend indeed, also a friend in need. How could he answer when he had his hand over his mouth and his primary object was to get to the rail quick. After several days out, however, a majority of the boys "got their sea legs," as evinced by the mess line three times daily.
A schedule of formations, similar to Camp Meade routine, was promulgated on board. Reveille was set for 7 o'clock each morning. When the time came to assemble on deck the space was so small and the crowd was so large that many a recruit slept-in until the last mess line was treading the beat. Reform measures were instituted and extra duty lists published, offenders being added to the regular details that were selected to daily wash up the deck and clean up the hatch.
A permanent submarine guard was detailed, the members of this detail landing state rooms for the journey; living next door to the officers. During the trip this guard sighted several score of "subs" butgenerally their "object port-bow" proved to be a keg that had become prohibition and therefore found itself abandoned in mid-ocean.
Outside of bunk inspection, medical inspection, feet inspection, several kinds of arm inspection, with details, drill formations and exercise periods, the life of the American soldier aboard a transport was an idle one. The ship's canteen did a big business during office hours. A world's series bleacher crowd had nothing on the canteen line of the Morvada. A place in the line commanded a high premium, which led to speculation in canteen supplies.
The afternoon of July 21st was attendant by a high wind, making it very cool on deck, while the wind lashed the waves with great fury. The cold wind blew all day July 22nd, the day when the first wireless reports were posted on board, telling of the Germans being driven over the Marne and thousands of prisoners captured.
The sea became calm on Tuesday, July 23rd, the gale having died down. The ship was traveling East and each morning watches had to be readjusted to correspond to the change in longitude.
At 3 a. m. on the third morning out a great commotion was occasioned on board. Everybody was awakened by a loud rumbling. A majority thought a submarine had been encountered. Several dashed up the steps of the hatchway to be ready for action. Someone shouted, "Don't get excited, but make room for me to get out first." Later it was ascertained that the noise was caused by the ships' anchor slipping several rods of anchor chain.
The first taste of real excitement was occasioned at 1 o'clock on the afternoon of July 25th when a strange craft was sighted on the distant horizon. The cruiser of the convoy was all action immediately. Warning flashed to all the convoy party and a wild series of zigzagging ensued while the cruiser chased pell-mell in the direction of the sighted craft. A shot was fired from the cruiser in the dash, but only a mountain of water was blasted by the discharge.
The convoy continued Eastward while the cruiser investigated. Finally the cruiser returned to the convoy and reported everything O. K. The troops never learned the official identity of the strange vessel that sent the first sub-chasers up the vertebrae of many.
Word was passed about on Saturday, July 27th, that the convoy was approaching the imaginary line in the ocean that Germany had established as the dead-line, past which her U-boats were operating in unrestricted warfare. The approach of the danger zone was the signalfor all on board to remove no article of clothing while asleep at night and to carry a canteen of fresh water strapped to the belt at all times. In this manner everybody was prepared to take to the waves at a minute's sub-warning.
As the journey continued the officers of Battery D instituted a series of battery lectures, also took up plans for the organization of a permanent battery commander's detail.
Sunday, July 28th, found the sea calm in the morning, but a strong gale set in at noon, followed by a heavy rain during the afternoon. A dense fog enveloped the convoy. Fog horns came into play and it was a miserable night aboard for everybody. Standing at the deck rail one could not pierce the fog, although it was known that within a short radius all the other ships of the convoy were groping their way through the darkness; each creeping as a black monster through the gloomy night, depending upon the fog-horn to keep aloof from their sister convoy ships; a sense of loneliness enshrouded the scene. It was a wild night for the timid with sub-scares, especially when the information leaked out that the sub-chasers which were scheduled to meet the convoy and escort it through the danger zone, were overdue and still missing.
Fog still lay close to the water on the morning of Monday, July 29th, as eager watch was kept for the new convoy. The transports had reached the danger line and the destroyers were not in sight.
Finally at 10 a. m. on the morning of the 29th, the first of the sub-chasers was sighted. It was not long before others appeared, bobbing up and down. The waves dashed high about the light craft and at times seemed to submerge the shells as they bore down upon the groups of transports. Eight sub-chasers appeared on the scene. A great shout went up from the transports as the convoy was sighted. They circled the transports and the last and most dangerous lap of the journey was started.
Thoughts strange and varied filled the minds of the majority aboard as they tossed in their bunks on the night of July 29th. Realization of location in the danger zone was keen. Those who were at ease sufficiently to sleep were annoyed and disturbed by the noises of whistles and signal horns as the ships and the convoy kept ever alert for submarines.
On the morning of July 30th the eight sub-chasers encircled the convoy party in closer proximity. The dash through the danger zone continuedunmolested until 3 o'clock in the afternoon when the first real periscope was discovered by the look-outs.
The cruiser at the head of the convoy lurched forth; fired a shot and tossed up the waves in answer. The resonance against the steel sides of the transport rang out clear, bringing hundreds scampering out of the hatches and state rooms of the ship, on to the decks, to peer out over the rail and watch in awe the great drama that was being enacted in serious reality upon the waves of the ocean.
The sun was shining brightly. Every transport in the party struck out at full speed, while the zigzagging was increased in comparison. Eight sub-chasers cut the waves with frantic speed. The circle-convoy formation was abandoned. The destroyers cut short to make for the scene of action, which held forth and was witnessed to good advantage from the starboard side of the Morvada.
As the transports fled under full steam the cruiser and sub-chasers snorted and crashed and roared in the vicinity the periscopes had been discovered. Depth-bombs came into play. Those missiles of destruction were hurled from the destroyers as they combed the waves for miles and miles around the spot where danger threatened. Each discharge of depth-bomb raised an avalanche of water; the deadly bombs blasting the depths for great distances, while the reverberation shook the transports, creating the impression that the transport was in direct contact with each explosion.
For fully an hour the detonations continued as the depth-bombs were discharged. Finally the destroyers swept back and the convoy formation was resumed. The news was spread that the final result of the battle was success, as vouched for by films of oil the destroyers saw appear on the water's surface. General report had it that five submarines composed the attacking party and that wreckage and oil coming to the surface gave evidence of two having been destroyed.
The convoy continued on its journey. Sailing orders were executed in detail. It was 4 o'clock, one hour after the sub-battle, that the convoy parted, the various ships bound for different ports of debarkation, which were soon to loom in sight.
At 6 p. m. that same day the soldiers on board the Morvada sighted land. Throughout the night the ships sped on but land was dimly discernible, the rugged outline appearing through the shadows of the night, while the appearance of fishing smacks, which the transport passed without fear or sign, created the impression that friendly shores were near.
Unableto ply their nets at their life's occupation as fishermen the sturdy shoresmen of Brittany's coast gave of their time and their smacks to the perilous task of combing adjacent water for mines and explosive obstacles.
It was these the Morvada passed out in the darkness of night, on the eve before landing and setting foot on foreign soil. The Morvada crept on, the contrasting stillness of the waves showing that channel waters had been reached. But few on board knew, or could rightly guess what shore was to greet their eyes on the dawn of the morrow.