A surprise reception was in store for the soldiers aboard the S. S. Morvada when it came to debarking on foreign soil. As the ship plied the channel waters on the night of July 30th, 1918, but few on board knew what port was its destination; but not so with the people of the British Isles. They knew the plans for the arrival of the American army transports. On July 31st, the people of Barry and Cardiff, in common with Newport, in the province of South Wales, did honor to the American troops.
Barry, the urban district and seaport of Glamorganshire, Wales, on the Bristol channel, was the foreign shore that greeted the troops on the Morvada early in the morning of July 31st.
It was perfect weather for such a visit, the first ever paid to Barry by a large body of American troops, and Barry's reception was whole-hearted. The citizens turned out in great force. Enthusiasm was manifest on every side, and this, despite the fact that, owing to the unavoidable delay in the ship's arrival, the people had to wait several hours while the Morvada rested at anchor in the harbor until docking could be accomplished at 9 a. m.
While preparations to dock were in progress crowds lingered on the piers. The soldiers amused themselves by tossing one-cent pieces to the Welsh children. Immediately a demand for American cigarettes and chewing gum arose among the older Welshmen.
The crowds and the town itself were in holiday attire. The vessels in dock were gay with bunting. Flags were displayed from shop-windows, the municipal offices and the fire-brigade station, while from the summit of the Barry Railway Company's offices "Old Glory" was flying to the breeze.
As the Morvada docked and the command was given for the troops to debark, loud welcome was sounded by sonorous "hooters," screaming sirens and shrill ship and loco whistles.
At 10 o'clock the soldiers were assembled on terra firma once more. Parade formation was ordered in answer to the glad welcome plans of the inhabitants.
Headed by the regimental band the 311th Artillery skirted the banks of a small brook named Barri, whose waters encircled an island--theisland which in the 7th century is supposed to have contained the cell of the Welsh saint, named Barri, from which the name of the island and the river is derived.
British troops, with rifles at present arms and bayonets glistening in the sun, formed a guard of honor that lined both sides of the streets of Barry, through which the American troops passed in royal welcome. The march proceeded until King's square was reached, where official ceremony of welcome to the town was enacted.
Here the officers and men formed in the large public square in front of the municipal offices, where Councillor George Wareham, J. P., as chairman of the district council, extended to the Americans a hearty welcome.
Lieut.-Col. Bradbridge, of the Lancashire Fusiliers, addressing Col. C. G. Mortimer, in command of the 311th, said he had been commanded by His Majesty, the King, to welcome all to the shores of Great Britain.
Each soldier was then presented with a copy of an autographed letter from King George V., bidding God-speed and every success. The letter was as follows:
Windsor Castle.Soldiers of the United States--The people of the British Isles welcome you on your way to take your stand beside the armies of many nations now fighting in the Old World the great battle for human freedom. The Allies will gain new heart and spirit in your company. I wish that I could shake the hand of each one of you, and bid you God-speed on your mission.GeorgeR. I.
Windsor Castle.
Soldiers of the United States--The people of the British Isles welcome you on your way to take your stand beside the armies of many nations now fighting in the Old World the great battle for human freedom. The Allies will gain new heart and spirit in your company. I wish that I could shake the hand of each one of you, and bid you God-speed on your mission.
GeorgeR. I.
Col. Mortimer expressed his appreciation of the very hearty welcome his men had received. "We are here," he said, "for one purpose, and you all know what that is. We are young at the business, but if spirit counts for anything, it will surely win out. We have been looking forward to this for some little time, and I can assure you we will do our part."
Then the band struck up the National anthem of America and this was followed by "God Save the King," and the soldiers moved on amid the cheers of the people.
The last mess on the Morvada was partaken of at the conclusion of the parade. At 2 o'clock that afternoon all packs were removed fromthe boat, the troops assembled in a large warehouse on the pier; British Red Cross workers distributed refreshments while trains were being made up to convey the soldiers to their first foreign training center.
A combination of first, second, and third-class coaches of the compartment type characteristic of the English rail system made up the section of train that was assigned to Battery D. The coaches and British locomotives were the source of considerable interest to the soldiers. Each compartment accommodated eight men, which allowed a division of squads being made for the journey.
At 4:30 o'clock the wheels began to grind the rails and the first ride on foreign soil was started.
Fast-fleeting stretches of fertile farm land and extensive pasture field, rich in verdure, with cattle grazing drowsily at the close of day, presented the picture of a peaceful pastoral life of British subjects as the train continued to add up mileage. Station after station was passed without stop by the American troop special. Battery D displayed an American flag from its section and the inhabitants in the vicinity of the railroad station as the special passed through their town or hamlet, could not mistake the identity of the Americans.
From Barry the route stretched to Penarth and Cardiff; passed through Newport, Christ Church, and Major, thence across the funnel waters of the Bristol channel to the thriving city of Bristol; into the rural districts of Wiltshire; passing Bath, Trowbridge, and Warminster.
Rations of hard bread, corned-beef, corned-beef hash, canned tomatoes, and jam, had been distributed to the squads before leaving the Morvada. When the troop special was nearing Salisbury, evening was well advanced and the appetites of the soldiers were being gradually appeased enroute, stop was made at Wilton, where everybody on board took advantage of permission to get off at the station and enjoy a cup of hot coffee that a contingent of British Red Cross workers handed out.
The journey was resumed after a twenty-minute lay-over. The South of England was penetrated farther as the boys tried to figure out whether they would remain on British territory long, or whether France was to be the first active training center.
3rd Class French Compartment Coach
Side-door Pullman Special Travel A La Mode In France
Interior French Box Car Battery D Enroute
A Real American Special New York To Camp Dix
At 9 p. m., it was yet daylight. The boys were weary and tired as the troop train on the London and Southwestern railway pulled into a station, the sign-boards of which gave the name as Romsey. Orders to detrain were passed along.
All soldiers and packs were soon off the train; then, line-up as per usual, and march, first under a stone railroad bridge, through the town, soon to strike a highway leading out of the town.
The pack on the back got heavier every minute, but the march continued; one mile, two miles, then along the stretch of the third there appeared scenes of buildings and tents. Post-signs glared the information that Camp Woodley had been reached. There appeared to be many parts to the camp. Battery D did not stop at the first, nor the second, but halt was made at what was designated as C Camp.
It was a welcome order that allowed the troops to fall-out along the roadside as official parlance was started with the powers that ruled the destinies of C Camp. The vicinity was closely guarded by American M. P.'s., who proceeded to communicate stories, savoring the good, bad, and indifferent prospects of the abode that was to shelter the 311th for one night at least. "It's a rest camp", they said. The words sounded peaceful to the tired troops assembled. It required only one day, however, to find out that the only part of a soldier that got rest at a "rest-camp" was the stomach.
The hour was almost 10:30 when it was finally decided what area Battery D was to occupy for the night. C Camp was a tented camp, the tents being spacious enough to comfortably house about four army cots for a healthy soldier to rest his weary bones on. The cots, however, were missing. Battery D was marched down the main road of the selected area. Halt was made at the first tent. Twenty-six men were ordered inside. The remainder continued to the next tent in order where twenty-six more were registered for the night; and so on down the roster, until Battery D was under canvass.
The battery cooks and details were put to work immediately to prepare something to eat, but a majority of the soldiers either got tired waiting or else had such a hard job finding what was prepared that they wended their way through the tented city and after considerable wandering found the tent wherein they were to be one of the twenty-six registered for the night.
Twenty-sixmen and twenty-six packs in one tent. Crowding was more than a necessity; it was a torture, as was soon evinced when twenty-six men stretched themselves out on the board floor of the tent for the seeming purpose of sleeping. Extra blankets had been drawn from the quartermaster, which, combined with the blankets the soldier carried in his pack, furnished mattress and coverings for the sweet but hard repose. No blue-print diagram was furnished as to how the sleeping space was to be allotted in twenty-six portions; with the result that one fellow was awakened out of a sweet dream of eating pie and cake, to find his buddy's feet pushing him in the face.
Reveille sounded at C Camp Woodley at 7:20 o'clock on the morning of August 1st, when Battery D received its first taste of British mess. Details of varied description were furnished from the battery roster, while the battery spent most of the first day in camp trying to figure out the English system of mess. The outfit was assigned places at tables, by squads, in mess-tents. Two from each squad were delegated a committee to go to the kitchen and bring on the chow.
For breakfast the committee brought back an iron-bound kettle of oatmeal; another kettle of prunes and a quantity of bread. The system then was one of "help yourself and pass it on," which was all right for the fellow at the head of the table, but the fellows on the opposite end had to do the figuring.
The same procedure was followed at noon when slum was served. Night mess in England invariably was cheese and tea and jam, which was always good as far as it went. The entire 311th regiment was served from one kitchen. It was good fortune that the Americans had individual mess kits with them and that there occurred no sanitary inspections of said eating utensils while in C Camp where fifteen hundred mess kits were washed in a two by four bucket.
During the first day in an English camp many of the soldiers slipped past the M. P.'s and made their way to the town; a quaint market town and municipal borough, numbering almost 4,000 inhabitants, in the New Forest Parliamentary division of Hampshire. As far as sight seeing, the only thing of interest in the town was an old abbey. Cafes were numerous, while English ale signs were more numerous.
An American Y. M. C. A. was housed under canvas at Camp Woodley. The workers in charge prepared a royal entertainment, while the regimental band gave a concert the second night of the soldiers' stayin camp. Members of a Romsey dramatic club furnished the entertainment. Towards the close the band struck up, "The Star Spangled Banner," then, "God Save the King." The Romsey entertainers started to sing their National Anthem, while the Americans joined in with, "My Country 'Tis of Thee." All that was needed to complete the effect of the Babel scene was John J. Jlosky and Otto Skirkie to sing, "Down Where the Green River Flows."
Reveille for Friday, August 2nd, had been set for 7:30 a. m. All heads were awakened by the bugle at 6:45 o'clock that morning. No one in Battery D stirred. The impression was that the call was for another outfit. Six fifty-five found First Sergeant James J. Farrell going from tent to tent to find out the cause of the silence. Then there was great hustling to get out in line and many a woolen puttee was missing that morning.
The day was destined to be a rough one. It was raining at reveille call and still raining when call was sounded at 9:30 o'clock for a hike. The hike was started and continued for three miles, so did the rain. The longer the soldiers walked the faster it rained. The scenery was beautiful through the stretch of pleasantly situated country in the rich valley of the Test. Picturesque English homesteads, set amid hedges and roses, with moss-overgrown thatched roofs, dotted the wayside. At a cross-roads the battery halted for rest. Along the road came a baker's wagon. There was a raid on its gingerbread cookies. The bakerman reaped a harvest of good American quarters for every three cookies he handed out.
Drenched through slicker, et al. the soldiers retraced their step to Camp Woodley, the beauties of the flowery countryside being lost to a majority by the far-soaking rain. When Lieut. Hugh Clarke dismissed the watery battery admonition was added for everybody to change to dry clothing. But, alas, the advice was far better than expedient. The only clothes the soldiers possessed at the time were wet on their backs. Their extra uniform and clothing was in their barrack-bags, which had not been seen since leaving Camp Meade. No fire was available. The only open course was to let the clothes dry on the back. The boys of Battery D spent a very lonely afternoon, sitting in the tents, with wet clothes. And, it continued raining on the outside.
When the battery drew individual rations, consisting of one can of corned-beef; a hunk of cheese; a box of hard bread and a can of jam, at 9:30 o'clock, Saturday morning, August 3rd, the sun was shiningand the day was waxing warm. Under full pack the command started for the seaport of Southampton.
Romsey is seven miles Northwest of Southampton by the London and Southwest railway, but the 311th did not take the L. & S. W. The hob-nail limited was the official troop train and the route covered nine miles by winding road.
It was on this hike that "Corona" became lost. David B. Koenig, the battery clerk, was the chaperon of "Corona." But he could not carry her all the way, so the boys took turns at carrying the precious thing. During one of the rest-halts, however, some one left poor little "Corona" lay by the roadside. When her disappearance was discovered it was necessary for Lieut. Clarke to hike back several miles and find the lost. "Corona" was the battery typewriter.
Southampton was reached at 12:30 o'clock. Stop was made at the British rest camp at the Commons where refreshments, in addition to the cheese and jam rations, were secured at the British Y. M. C. A. canteen. At 2 p. m. that day it started to rain and at 2:15 the regiment resumed its march and reached the docks at 3:15 o'clock.
It was a regiment of tired soldiers who sat on their packs in the big warehouse pier at Southampton waiting for word to go up the gang-plank of the vessel that was to take them across the English Channel.
"The King Edward" was the name of the channel-going vessel that drew alongside the pier late in the afternoon. It was a cute-looking boat, just big enough to transport Battery D across the channel in comfort. At 6:30 p. m., Battery D and 1200 other members of the 311th were loaded on the King Edward. Everybody had a pleasant time. No space went to waste, whatever. Some tried to sleep during the long night that ensued while standing against a post and others tried to strap themselves to the ceiling with their cartridge belts. In general the scene was like unto a large meat-cooler in a butcher shop, with the exception that the ship furnished life-preservers instead of meat-hooks and the temperature was the extreme of zero.
Convoyed by several destroyers with piercing search lights, which scanned the same waters that held the dead of the Hospitalship Walrilda, which was torpedoed in the English Channel while conveying wounded back to England, the King Edward started on its dash across the channel at 8:30 p. m., on the night of the day that the Walrilda met its fate.
Thetroops huddled together in the small hatches of the King Edward did not have much thought where they were or whither bound. They did not recall at the time that they were passing the Isle of Wight and the spot in the English Channel that witnessed the defeat of the Armada in the same month, back in the year 1588.
Sufficient unto the night was the misery thereof. Sea sickness came over quite a few, which was duly abetted by the stifling air. Those near the hatch-ways were fortunate in getting to the deck rails when their inner recesses were most severely tempest-tossed. Those who were hemmed in on all sides by human forms, who lay stretched on the stairs, in hallways, benches and wherever there was an inch of space, had a difficult time when they attempted to find a passage way through the closely matted carpet of humanity.
Col. C. G. Mortimer, the regimental commander, came down from his station on the deck and found it well-nigh impossible to get through the corridor of the forward saloon.
Through the hours of the long night the King Edward was convoyed across the channel at a speed nearing 25 knots an hour. Early morning of Sunday, August 4th, drew the King Edward near the shores of Northern France. At 2 p. m. the ship approached a harbor, but it was not until daylight that those on board could see a sign on a warehouse of a pier, bearing the name Cherbourg.
"So this is France!"
For the first time the boys of Battery D repeated this phrase in all its reality as they stood upon elevated ground in the vicinity of the British Rest Camp at Cherbourg and viewed the vista of harbor, four miles distant, where, from the gang-plank of the King Edward they set foot on French soil on Sunday morning, August 4th, at 8 o'clock.
The panorama presented the naval and commercial harbors, from which Cherbourg, the seaport of Northwestern France, derives its chief importance. The eye can see the three main basins, cut out of the rock, with an area of fifty-five acres, which forms the naval harbor and to which are connected dry-docks; the yards where the largest ships in the French navy are constructed; magazines and the various workshops required for an arsenal of the French navy.
A glance about reveals surrounding hills, in which batteries are located in fortification of the works and the town.
A second glance toward the harbor shows a large naval hospital close to the water's-edge, at the mouth of the Divette, on a small bay at the apex of the indentation formed by the Northern shore of the Peninsula of Cotentin. There is also at the mouth of Divette, the commercial harbor, connecting with the sea by a channel. This harbor consists of two parts, an outer harbor and an inner basin. Outside these harbors is the triangular bay, which forms the road-stead of Cherbourg.
The bay is admirably sheltered by the land on three sides, while on the North it is sheltered by a large breakwater, which is protected and leaves passage for vessels. The passages are guarded by forts placed on islands intervening between the breakwater and the mainland, and themselves united to the mainland by breakwaters.
Glimpses of the town of Cherbourg which the boys received as they hiked the four miles from the docks to the rest camp, through narrow and crooked streets, revealed no buildings of special interest, apart from the church of La Trinite dating from the 15th century; a statue of the painter J. F. Millet, born near Cherbourg, stands in the public gardens and there is an equestrian statue of Napoleon I in the square named after him. After reaching the rest camp the soldiers wereunable to get down to the town again, although they had been told that the Hotel de Ville housed a rich collection of paintings.
It was at 10 a. m. when the regiment arrived at the British Rest Camp at Cherbourg. Halt was made on a large parade ground in front of a Y. M. C. A. hut. The boys stretched themselves on the ground while search was instituted for the area the outfit was to occupy at its second rest camp.
Rest had just been commanded a few minutes when the command to "fall-in" was sounded. Everybody hustled to their feet, shouldered the heavy pack and awaited the next order.
"About-Face" was ordered. And the regiment obeyed. "Rest" was next. This was the first time in the history of the battery that it was necessary to shoulder packs to execute an about-face.
The camp consisted of dome-shaped, sheet-iron barracks and tented areas. After an hour's wait Battery D was assigned to the 13th row of Section C of the tented area. Tents were pyramid in shape. Fourteen men were crowded into each tent that was originally intended for eight.
By laying in wheel formation, with fourteen pairs of feet meeting at the center pole, the boys rested themselves on the board floors of the tents that night. There was no room for packcarriers and other paraphanelia in the tents. Most of the soldiers deposited their excess luggage on the outside. About midnight it started to rain. There was a scurry to get the equipment in out of the rain, which also disturbed the sweet slumbers as water trickled in under the canvass or else came through leaks in the roof.
Reveille sounded at 5:30 the next morning. Orders were given for packs to be rolled preparatory to moving. A move was made from Section C to row 19 of D Section of the same tented area. The remainder of the morning was set apart for Battery D to take a bath. The soldiers' bath had been a negligible quantity since leaving Camp Meade, with the exception of some few who attempted to work up a lather with salt water on the Morvada. To the boys, therefore, the prospect of a good bath was hailed with delight.
No dressing room was attached to the bathhouse that was situated at one end of the Cherbourg rest camp. Therefore the boys had to make ready for the bath in their tents. With slickers and shoes on the battery lined up and marched to the bathhouse, while the rain came down and the wind was wont to play with the flaps of the raincoats, as a battery of bare-legs was exposed to the elements.
Arrivedat the bathhouse, it was discovered that the showers would accommodate eight at one time. The first squad in line went into the water sanctum, while everybody else waited their turn on the outside.
The showers consisted of three half-inch pipes suspended from the ceiling. There were three lengths of pipe, each length being perforated at two places to emit the shower of water. The perforations comprised about four holes, each hole about one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter.
The first eight who entered the bathhouse were eager to get under the showers and consequently did not glance about to inspect the equipment of the room. The eight soldiers braced themselves under the showers and yelled for the man in charge to turn on the water. Instead of being washed away by the force of the current, as the firmly braced attitude of each gave evidence that such was to be the case, the opening wide of the flood-gates let four needle-like streams of water descend upon each figure.
The eight took the bath good-naturedly and as they passed out of the bathhouse, making room for the next eight to enter, they passed word along the end of the waiting line to the effect that it would be just as expedient to take off the slicker and stand out in the rain, that was still falling.
The same evening orders to leave the rest camp came forth. At 6 p. m. the regiment was assembled on the parade ground and soon started its march back over the four miles, through Cherbourg, to the railroad yards of the Ouest-Etat railway, which skirted the docks.
Arrived there at 7:45 p. m., sections of French trains were assembled ready to receive the soldiers. This assemblage of coaches was of infinitely greater variety than those of English ownership. Third class coaches were in evidence, but of greater import were the box cars containing the inscription, "40 Hommes or 8 Chevaux."
Forty men or eight horses may have been the official capacity but when forty soldiers with equipment C were assigned to such a car to spend the night and several succeeding nights, all that was needed to make sardines was a little oil.
Several sections of the battery were fortunate in securing third-class accommodations, but the remainder prepared to settle themselves in the box cars, the majority of which cars turned out to have flat wheels as the journey started.
Daylightremained abroad for the first two hours of the journey; while the cars jolted over the rails the boys sang and kept alive the spirit. Then came darkness. No lights in the car. Forty men stretched out in a small box-car. Incidently it might be added that a French box-car is about one-half the size of similar type of car used on the railroads in the United States. It wasn't fair to kick your buddy in the face or get on his ear. The night, however, gradually wore on and the towns of Valognes, Isigny and Manche St. Lo, were passed. Thence out of the Manche department, through the railroad center at Vire, in Calvados, the special, with its side-door Pullmans, rolled on, enroute through Flers, Coutenne and Pre during the early hours of the morning of August 6th. Daylight dawned as Alencon was reached and at 11:30 a. m., Le Mans loomed in sight. A half-hour's ride from Le Mans and an half-hour lay-over was ordered. The troops were allowed to alight for the time. A supply of iron rations was also furnished each car from the supply car of the special.
The next stop was made at Tours from 6 to 8 p. m. A short lay-over was also made at Poitiers at 11 p. m. The troop special was then nearing its destination. But few on board were aware that at the end of the next thirty-four kilometers was Montmorillon, in the department of Vienne, which was to be the stopping off place of Battery D for a stay of several weeks.
The troop special of thirty-five coaches and box cars, pulled into the station at Montmorillon at 1 a. m.; all was quiet about the station. A majority of the soldiers were too tired to care about location. They slumbered on as best they could in their box-car berths, while the special was pulled in on a siding, to remain until daylight when the order to detrain was to be issued.
Montmorillon StationMontmorillon StationWhere Battery D Detrained in France After Leaving British Rest Camp at Cherbourg.
Montmorillon Station
Montmorillon StationWhere Battery D Detrained in France After Leaving British Rest Camp at Cherbourg.
Montmorillon Street Scene
Montmorillon Street SceneBuilding Marked X was Billet for Half of the Battery During the First Month Spent on French Soil.
Dotted with quaint architecture of 12th and 13th century Romanesque and Gothic design, the hills of Vienne department, France, cradle the crystal-clear and drowsy-moving waters of the Gartempe, a river, which in its course winds through the town of Montmorillon, where four thousand French peasantry, on August 7th, received their first lesson in American cosmopolitism.
Montmorillon, where the boys of Battery D were billeted for the first time in the midst of the French people; where they received their first impressions on French life and mannerisms, lives in memory of the boys as the prettiest, cleanest and most-comfortable place of any the outfit visited during its sojourn in France.
Despite the fact that a feeling of strained hospitality attended the reception of the 311th Artillery, the first body of white American troops to visit Montmorillon, the cloud of suspicion was soon lifted and four weeks of smiling August sunshine days, undarkened by rainclouds, were spent along the banks of the Gartempe.
When the 311th troops alighted from the troop special early on the morning of their arrival, the station and avenues of approach to the town were guarded by American negro M. P.'s, members of the 164th Artillery Brigade, who had arrived in the town several weeks previous and had made themselves at home with the natives.
The 311th was not in Montmorillon many days before the explanation of the half-hearted reception came to light. An element of negro troops had started the story on its rounds among the guileless French peasants that the white troops, who had just arrived, comprised the "Scum of America," and that they (the negroes) were the real Americans; the whites being the so-called "American Indians." As the flames of gossip spread from tongue to tongue, admonition was added that the white arrivals were dangerous and corrupt and the French should refrain from associating with the new arrivals.
Thus there was created an intense and bitter racial feeling that loomed gigantic and threatened open racial hostilities as the white and colored American troops traveled the same streets of a foreign village; were admitted to the same cafes and vied with each other for the friendship of the French populace.
Streetfights were not infrequent, while scenes in cafes were enacted wherein white refused to sit in the same room with colored troops or vice-versa.
Persisting in their set standard of chivalry, the element of the white soldiers often took it as ordained to induce the French demoiselles to leave the company of their opposite in blood. Many of the colored troops were equally persistent, with the result that the breach of ill-feeling gaped bigger, until official cognizance came to bear.
Within a short time the 164th Brigade was withdrawn from Montmorillon, leaving the 311th to commence its active and intensive course of training on foreign soil.
On August 7th, the day of the 311th's arrival, the troops waited at the station for several hours while the billeting officers were locating billets throughout the town. Iron rations were partaken of at the station and everybody was glad that battery mess outfits would soon set up shop and the American Q. M. system of rationing would be resumed.
The march through the town to the various assigned billeting districts was started from the station at 9:30 o'clock. The batteries of the regiment were scattered in various billets throughout the town. Every vacant house, barn or shed that possibly could be pressed into service, was designated as a billet for the troops.
Battery D continued its march through the town; across the cement bridge over the Gartempe; into an octagon-shaped intersection of public streets, lined with several three-story buildings, the principal one of which gave evidence of being a cafe and bore the sign, "Cafe du Commerce."
Opposite the bridge, the route was along Rue de Strasburg, where, in the rear of the Cafe du Commerce, Battery D halted before a three-story stone structure that bore signs of having been vacated for many years.
The area billeting officer produced a large key, threw open the door and half the battery was ushered inside. It immediately fell their task to brush the cow-webs from the ceilings; gather up the fallen plaster from the floor; sweep out several years' accumulation of dirt and dust; while the old-fashioned shutters were pried open for the first time in many years and the sunshine streamed into the rooms, to drive away, to some degree, the mustiness of environment.
Theother half of the battery was directed to a barn structure about a block distant from the first battery abode. Clean-up activities of similar nature were instituted in the barn.
About 3 o'clock that afternoon the barrack bags of the regiment were received and distributed to the soldiers. The bags had been in transit ever since leaving Camp Meade.
Arrangements were made with several French farmers to bring a quantity of straw to the public square, where the soldiers, later in the afternoon, filled their bed ticks. It was on a tick of straw, thrown on the floor of the old dilapidated, vacated house, that one hundred of the battery spent their nights of sleep in Montmorillon while the other half occupied similar beds on the upper-lofts of the barn.
There were no formations the morning after arrival. The battery men spent most of the time about town. It was strange to observe the peasantry hobbling along in their wooden shoes, the flopping of the loose footwear at the heels beating a rhythmic clap, clap on the cobblestone pave.
Each day brought new scenes of peasant life. Quaintly and slowly oxen under yoke were used on the streets to haul the farmers' grain to the large public square, where, under the scorching sun the farmer and his helpers toiled with hand flailers, thrashing the grain. Strange looking carts, drawn by donkeys with large ears, vied with the ox-carts for supremacy of traffic.
Along the river's edge were located public places for clothes-washing. The peasant whose house adjoined the river had a private place at the water's-edge where the family washing was done. The river served as a huge tub for the entire community, the women carrying their wash to the river, where, kneeling at special devised wash-boards, garments were rubbed and paddled until they shown immaculate.
Washing was greatly increased at the river when the 311th came to town. The hundreds of soldiers sought out washer-women. The peasant women welcomed the opportunity of earning a few francs doing American washing. The more active of the washer-women spent entire days washing at the river for the soldiers. At first one franc was a standard price for having a week's laundry done, but as days passed and business became brisker, rates went up to two, five and in some instances higher.
To the Americans the town of Montmorillon, as was the case of most of the ancient towns visited in France, presented an impression ofisolation. Houses built during the 12th century with their high walls surrounding and barricaded entrances, were greatly in evidence; houses of such nature, history records, as furnishing protection in the days when feudalism fought at spear-points. The stages and wages of war advanced with the centuries, but not so with the ancient French town; where the peasants live content with no sewerage or drainage system; content to pursue the antiquated customs. To be thrown in the midst of this 12th century environment was productive of lasting impressions on the part of the American troops who were suddenly transplanted from a land of 20th century civilization and advancement, to an old and foreign soil.
The first night the 311th was in Montmorillon fire broke out in "The Baines," an ornate and modern French homestead near the Cafe du Commerce. Several officers of the 311th regiment had secured quarters in the Baines. They were forced to vacate by the fire. Bucket brigades was the only fire protection the prefecture afforded its citizenry. The fire drew a large crowd of the new soldiers, a score of whom took active charge of fighting the blaze; giving the Frenchmen a real exhibition in the art of bucket-brigade fire extinction.
Time, however, was not to view French scenery. Training activity was the official topic of interest. It was decreed that instruction in the school of the soldier should begin immediately. Fifty per cent of the regiment comprised new recruits, who had been assigned to the outfit previous to departure from Camp Meade. It was necessary to begin the training at the beginning.
Out from the town, among the open farm lands, a large grain field was secured as a drill field for the battery. It required a thirty-five minute hike from the battery billeting area to reach the drill field. This hike was in order every morning and afternoon. The time on the drill field was spent in learning the rudiments in much the same manner as the training was started and progressed with the first recruits at Camp Meade.
When 4 o'clock of each afternoon came, the order was established for a swim in the river as the parting day's rejuvenator. Montmorillon was the only place in France where the battery got frequent baths.
Saturday morning for the troops at Montmorillon was generally inspection time. Inspections were held on the public plaza. Showdown inspections were as exacting as Camp Meade days. Saturday afternoonand Sunday were days of rest for those who were lucky enough to escape detail.
Regimental services were held in the public square on Sunday mornings, while many of the soldiers visited the curious, two-storied chapel of octagonal form and Romanesque style, that was built in the 12th century, in which services were still conducted. The chapel is connected with the ecclesiastical seminary that occupies a building that was formerly an Augustinian convent.
The Church of the Notre Dame is another ancient landmark of Montmorillon that held interest for the Americans. It, also, is a 12th century building, built on a high slope, with its chapel undermined with a series of catacombs. Trips of inspection to these subalterean chambers, where the worship of the early ages was conducted, were numerous and interesting to the soldiers.
Various schools for instruction of the officers of the regiment were established at Montmorillon. A detachment of new officers from the Saumur school arrived in town to take charge of the training work while the regular officers attended the schools. Second Lieut. Sidney F. Bennett of Derby, Vermont, was assigned to Battery D at this time and was given plenty of work in supervising the morning drill and battery instructions. Lieut. Bennett immediately won great favor among the men. He varied his periods of drill and training with athletics. "O'Grady," "Crow and Crane," "Belt 'Round the ring," and numerous other sport contests were indulged in with great vim.
A battery kitchen, utilizing the field range, was set up in close proximity to the two battery billets. Here the boys lined up with their mess-kits three times a day. They sat out in the narrow French street as they appeased their appetites. Gone were the mess hall tables of Camp Meade days. Gone were the cots of Camp Meade memory. Cheer was added, however, when mail from the United States and home began to reach the outfit. The first despatch of mail to reach Battery D overseas was at Montmorillon on August 13th.
Then on August 14th came the first overseas payday. The battery members were paid with an addition of ten per cent for foreign service. The first pay was in French currency, the rate of exchange at the time being 5:45 francs to the American dollar.
When French peasants toiled a whole day for several francs and when the pay of the French soldier was not equalling one franc aday, the French, when the American private was paid $33 a month in 179.85 francs, gained the idea that all Americans were millionaires. The result was the establishment of two standards of price in French shops; one price for the French and a higher price for the Americans.
Souvenir postcards sold anywhere from 10 centimes to five francs apiece. In the matter of fruits, peaches commanded one franc for three during the peach season; apples sold two for one franc; while tomatoes that should have sold for one franc a basket, brought one franc for five.
The soldiers were allowed to be on the streets until 9 o'clock each night. Many spent their money freely. The wine shops did a thriving business and as is usual in large crowds, the element was present that was not satisfied with sampling the large assortment of wine-vintages but indulged in Cognac. Strict disciplinary measures were immediately adopted. Several of the first offenders, none of whom, however, were from Battery D ranks, were reduced in rank at a public battalion formation on the public square.
The cognac proclivities of the few endangered the privileges of the many in having freedom to visit in the town at night. Battery punishment was inflicted at times, which constituted carrying a full pack on the back at drill formation or for a certain period after drill hours.
Toward the latter part of August steps were taken to organize a battery commander's detail. Lieut. Hugh M. Clarke took charge of the instruction work. Special instruction was started in map and road sketching, orientation and signal work. The battery in general was also put through a strenuous course in the use of the semaphore and the wigwag.
On August 21st the regiment passed in review on the large regimental drill ground, under a burning sun. The swim in the river at the close of that day was especially inviting.
While in Montmorillon Lieut. Sidney F. Bennett instituted a series of battalion and regimental setting-up exercises. Calesthenics, to the music of the regimental band, was the feature of the exercises.
The long hike to the grain field drill ground was abandoned after two weeks and the village plaza was used for drill purposes. About this time several French army sergeants were attached to the regiment and instruction in gun pit construction was started. Details were kept busy for several days digging gun pits near the regimental drillgrounds, but before the job was fully completed orders came for the regiment to leave Montmorillon.
Present day reminiscences vouch for the fact that the stay in Montmorillon was most pleasant. The weather had been ideal throughout the month of August. Except for a detachment from the regiment who replaced the negro M. P.'s no guard duty was necessary in the town. During the first week of September, 1918, however, all that the boys had to compare their lots and life in Montmorillon with was Camp Meade regime. In the light of this comparison many expressed words of approval that the outfit was finally getting away from such a horrid place. Those who failed to see the good points of Montmorillon, moreover, were without knowledge of what the future held in store for the outfit in its journey through France.