At the front in a flivver

Preface

In presenting the following diary to the public, a few words of introduction may not seem superfluous. The writer is a young American who usually is not given to self-expression, although a number of articles from his pen have been published in various magazines, and a book of early sporting experiences was published by Altemus, some years ago, under the title Joys of Sports. On March 1, 1916, he left his family and his position as financial editor on a Philadelphia newspaper, because he felt strongly this country's attitude with regard to the war, and wished to join the few volunteers who then sought, as far as in their power lay, to pay the debt of service which this nation owed to France. He kept a rough diary which, as the occasion offered, he forwarded to his people. It was written offhand, without the remotest idea of its publication. It is this that constitutes its value at this time.

vi PREFACE

Any one who has made it his business to read every book hitherto published by correspondents and others will realize how few there are in which can be found so many practical details of the things one wants to know, or which give so realistic a view of the war at close range, with its strange mixture of horrors, pleasures, and realities, divested of all literary effort or desire to impress.

These notes are here published almost as jotted down at odd times, here and there, where the man happened to be. Only a few entries felt to be unprintable have been omitted, and a few expletives which slipped in when under a fever of excitement in action.

Taken as a whole, the diary offers a glimpse of real life at the Front — quite different from the view obtained by the personally conducted visitor — as lived by the men who are doing duty. As such, it may be of use to our young men about to enter upon the great adventure. The reader will find in it no heroics, no attempt at a pose, no desire to magnify the work

PREFACE vii

or its dangers. It is but fair, therefore, to supplement the young man's simple statement of facts, by publishing, along with the diary, a letter written to a member of his family by Mr. John H. McFadden, Jr., who, in charge of the Department of Equipment of the American Ambulance Field Service, visited his Section in September last, at a time when the strain of work was probably not at its worst, and yet was described by him as follows: —

September 9, 1916.

My dear Mrs. S.: —

I have just returned from a visit to Section No. 1, where Yorke is, and although he probably has written to you describing his work, he also probably has omitted a good deal, owing to the fact of his being a member of the Section. After seeing the extraordinary work that those boys are doing up there, I felt that I would like to write to you and tell you all about it.

A good many of the Sections are now living under canvas and have often found difficulty in finding a suitable place to cook. So that we have had built a kitchen on two wheels which viii PREFACE

is pulled along by a big two-ton White truck used for sitting cases, and the real reason of my visit was to leave one with Section No. 1. As it happens, they are situated at the present moment in a splendid chateau (the Chateau de Billemont) about four kilometers outside of Verdun. Up to a few weeks ago it was the headquarters of some French officers, but the Germans, having got hold of the fact, shelled them out, so that it has made an ideal place for our men.

The "poste de secours" to which they are attached is six kilometers the other side of Verdun; and since ten days before my arrival, and during my stay, the French have been doing incessant attacking and counter-attacking, and the work of carrying the wounded has been practically continuous night and day.

On going to the "poste de secours" from the chateau, you pass through Verdun and continue on a wide, level road for about one kilometer, and then you start up a very steep hill, which continues right to the "poste de secours," for five kilometers. This road is very narrow and sufficiently dangerous from a driving point of view apart from the fact that it is shelled continuously day and night. In fact, the duty of Townsend, Section Director, is to go out every morning at daybreak with a couple of men and fill up the holes which have

PREFACE ix

been made during the hours of darkness, so that our cars will not fall into them.

The "poste" itself is only one hundred and fifty yards from Fort St. Michel, which, of course, accounts for the attention which that part of the country gets from the German artillery. Besides this, the whole valley and hillsides are covered with French batteries, and the din at the top of the hill makes it impossible to talk in anything like an ordinary voice.

The day driving is comparatively nothing. The fact that every car has been hit has made no impression whatsoever on the men. I do not mean to say by this that they are in the least bit reckless or foolhardy — on the contrary, they take all possible precautions; but when there is anything to be done, it is carried out without question.

The part, however, for which they deserve all the praise that we can give them, is for their driving at night. Naturally, no lights are allowed, and I have never seen a country that can produce darker nights than that district. You can try and imagine starting from the top of that hill with a car full of wounded, driving down a narrow hillside road in a blackness impenetrable for more than a yard. If it were not for the light given by the firing of the guns and hand-grenades, the work would be well-nigh impossible.

x PREFACE

What makes it more difficult still is, that it is at night that all the traffic starts and the ammunition is brought up to the various batteries, and continually you are finding a team of horses almost on the top of* the car before you have any idea of their presence. The round trip from the "poste de secours" to the hospital takes from two hours and a half to three hours, which averages a speed of about ten kilometers an hour. This will give you an idea how slowly one has to go.

As I said in the beginning, this Section had been doing this work for ten days before I got there, and yet there was not the slightest sign of fatigue or impatience. I doubt if any man in the Section during that time had had five hours' consecutive sleep. But far from shirking what they had to do, they were each and every one of them attempting more than their share. One night, for example, the Medecin Chef who had charge of the "poste/' received word to prepare for an unusual number of wounded on account of an expected attack, and fearing that Section No. 1 might not be able to handle the situation alone, he called out a French Section which was in Verdun as reserve. I can assure you that no deeper insult could have been offered to poor Townsend, and every man in the Section worked double time that night. Needless to say the

PREFACE xi

French Section stayed where it was — "In reserve." The idea that any situation was too big for them to handle was something not to be thought of.

No matter how carefully a man drives at night, a number of accidents are bound to occur. In one night, there were six. Of course, these are minor accidents and the damage can be repaired in a fairly short time. For instance, the White Camion one night went into a ditch; two cars went head-on into each other in the darkness ; two more cars went into ditches, and another fell into a shell hole.

Occasionally, of course, something occurs which will put a car out of commission for three or four days, and that means that the Section is that much short. If this sort of thing happens too often, the authorities get impatient and threaten to replace the incomplete Section by a complete one — which, of course, almost breaks the hearts of our fellows; and it occurs to me that it would be a splendid thing if we could have one or two cars in reserve for each Section, to prevent this contingency ever happening.

Just briefly, I have tried as nearly as possible to give you an exact picture of the work that Yorke and the rest of the fellows in Section No. 1 are doing. Without exaggeration, and without any idea of blood-curdling stories, xii PREFACE

it really impressed me as so tremendously fine, that I did not feel that we were giving them all the praise they deserve.

I hope you have not found this letter too long and will not think that I am bothering you too much, but nothing that I can say can give you an idea of how splendid those boys are, and I cannot help feeling that nothing should be left untried to give them all the assistance in our power.

Hoping that you are well, I remain Very sincerely yours,

Jack McFadden.

For service even more exposing than that described by Mr. McFadden, rendered on the 11th of July, 1916, on the occasion of the gas attack in the battle for Souville-Tavannes, the entire Section 1 had already been cited before the Division of the Second Army to which it was attached. A second citation was given the Section for the work referred to in Mr. McFadden' s letter, which was the battle for Fleury, when again the entire Section so distinguished itself. This time, however, it was cited before the Army. Along with these official citations some wonder-

PREFACE xiii

ful letters were addressed to Lieutenant de Kersauson de Pennendreff by the surgeons in charge of the "poste de secours" and those who were in charge of the Sanitary Service to which the Section was attached. Since then, the newspapers have reported a third citation for the Section; and recently, when Hon. A. Piatt Andrew, for his distinguished service to France, was awarded the Cross of the Legion of Honor, he chose to receive it with Section 1, because it is the oldest of the American Sections, and because he drove with it before he became the head of the American Ambulance Field Service. General Ragueneau, of General Nivelle's Staff, performed the ceremony, which took place in the fine courtyard of a splendid sixteenth-century chateau, in which Section 1 was then quartered. Troops formed three sides of a square, and the " ambulanciers " the fourth. Fate was propitious, and the weather was the only sunny weather they had enjoyed since the winter had set in. The big guns were loudly booming, and German aviators xiv PREFACE

were dropping bombs on the village just outside the chateau, also in the river near their dining-tent : quite a glorious staging for a scene of this kind.

After the ceremony, Major Andrew, as he is now called, presented the Section with a section flag of blue silk, edged with gold fringe, with the American eagle in the center. In the top corner is pinned the Croix de Guerre, with the two stars, which mean that the Section has been twice cited before the Army. A,s a fact, now, it should be three stars, as recently it has received a third citation, which, for the present, again places Section 1 at the head of all the American Sections, a proud position which it occupied last autumn with two citations. Later, however, Section 8 caught up to it. But to return to the flag bestowed upon it by Major Andrew: in the other corners are inscribed the names of the battles in which the Section has figured : Ypres, Dunkerque, Somme, Verdun, Argonne, Aisne, and so on : a proud record, to be sure.

After the customary ceremony, the Gen-

PREFACE xv

eral advanced toward the young drivers, who were introduced to him by name, and whose hands he shook. He afterwards invited some of the older men to join him and the Staff in a glass of wine. He made them a most complimentary speech, which ended a pleasant as well as most honorable experience.

Having come back to this country on furlough to spend Christmas at home, Mr. Stevenson returned to France on March 4, 1917, and upon arrival in Paris found that his Lieutenant, the Marquis Robert de Kersauson de Pennendreff, had kept his place for him in the Section; he at once, therefore, returned to Verdun to join his squad. Section 1 shortly afterwards was transferred to Champagne and the Aisne where the heaviest fighting of the war was then expected to take place. Since then that expectation bids fair to be realized.

Mr. McFadden recently returned to France after a most successful moneyraising campaign in this country, through which the American " Ambulanciers," who xvi PREFACE

for nearly three years have been keeping up the honor of this country on the fighting line, will be provided with proper cars and equipment. They deserve it well. And Hon. A. Piatt Andrew, Henry D. Sleeper, of Boston, who represents the work in this country, and Mr. John H. McFadden, of Philadelphia, should be congratulated upon the splendid support which they have obtained for those remarkable American volunteer boys.

One can but regret that the now historic "Ambulance No. 10" will appear no more in the annals of the Field Service. It has done noble work, however, and should have a decent burial in some American War Museum. The celebrated "Flivver," or "Tin Lizzie," as our diarist calls her, should not be allowed to end on a scrap-heap. Who can estimate the number of lives she has helped to save? She is a veteran, and deserves an honorable ending. We should not be ungrateful to a thing which has served us so faithfully.

We, who for so long remained out of the conflict, should never forget the debt of

PREFACE xvii

gratitude which we owe to these young fellows of our race, who from the first, with a keen sense of honor and splendid courage, unhesitatingly realized their duty to France and to the ideals which our Nation professed to uphold, and who went alone and served when we discussed and did nothing. To them, to our splendid aviators, and to those who enlisted in the Foreign Legion, be all honor and praise for representing, unbidden, the true spirit of the American Nation.

" Doing my part of the everyday care — Human and simple my lot and my share — I am aware of a marvelous thing: Voices that murmur and ethers that ring In the far stellar spaces where cherubim sing."

Since the diary was written, the author has been placed in command of Section 1 and has been awarded the Croix de Guerre. The citation, signed by a general whose name is withheld for the present, reads as follows: —

"The Commandant Adjoint Stevenson, W. Yorke, American Sanitary Section xviii PREFACE

No. 1, enlisted volunteer since February, 1916.

"Commandant Adjoint of the American Sanitary Section No. 1, never hesitating to expose himself, has largely contributed to the organization and direction of the evacuations under enemy fire. Brave, devoted, and of a rare modesty."

The Editor.

NOTE

This is not a Treatise on the War. I know nothing about it. General Joffre never consulted me in developing his plans. It was rather careless on his part, but I '11 try to forgive him. Nor did the German General Staff make any special effort to obtain my views. Of course, it has been their loss. Therefore, this little book is merely a record of what one driver of a "Tin Lizzie" happened to see during some nine months spent on the Somme, around Verdun and in the Argonne.

William Yorke Stevenson Ambulance Driver Section No. 1

Contents

I. Explanatory 1

II. Paris — Neuilly 15

III. At the Front at Last . . .32

Chapter I

"Ont fait preuve du plus brillant courage et du plus complet devouement." *

The old General ceased reading from the Army Corps Citation and, stepping forward, said : —

"Gentlemen, as you carry no regimental standard, I have the honor of pinning the Croix de Guerre upon this car as representing the Section."

1 General Order No. 189.

Group D. E. Staff Headquarters, S. C. No. 6611.

November 5th, 1916.

The General Commanding the Group D. E., cites by the order of the Army Corps: Sanitary American Section No. 1, under the command of the Lieutenant Robert de Kersauson de Pennendreff and of the American Officer Herbert Townsend: In August and September, 1916, has assured the evacuation of the wounded of three Divisions successively in a section particularly

It was a "Flivver"!!

Just a plain "flivver" with an ambulance body the after overhang of which gave the outfit the graceful aspect of an overfed June-bug.

The following pages were not written for the instruction of the United States Army General Staff, although one might think, from the astonishing questions one is asked on returning from the maelstrom, that an ordinary Ambulance driver had the intimate ear of Generals Joffre and Nivelle, and had been consulted by them prior to most of their major operations. Neither is this a treatise on "How to Run an Ambulance Corps" — A. Piatt Andrew and his able assistants can tell you all about that. This is merely the record of my intimate personal daily existence with the kindly "bunch" of twenty happy-go-lucky pirates, gathered from all

dangerous; has asked as a favor to retain this service, in which officers and conductors have given proof of the most brilliant courage and of the most complete devotion.

(Signed) The General Commanding Group D. E.

Mangin.

parts of the United States, with whom I had the good fortune to be thrown for some ten months of the most interesting, and, I am almost tempted to say, the happiest, months of my life.

Judging from the letters received from home, the Field Ambulance Sections are supposed to spend their entire time breathing battle-smoke and gases; dodging shells and swabbing cars saturated with blood. As a matter of fact, some two thirds of the time is spent "en repos," where, apart from the few scheduled runs, the periodical washing of the cars, and the putting them in first-class repair, the drivers literally loaf.

The remaining third, however, is more or less strenuous. But even then, this depends upon what portion of the battle line the Division to which the Section is attached happens to be placed. Generally speaking, each Division has an Ambulance Section, though lately the French have modified this system to a certain extent, and one becomes part of a " groupement " which may include more than one

Division. At Verdun we worked with four Divisions at various times, day and night, and at times under really intense fire. At other times, as on the Aisne, on the Somme, and in the Argonne, we worked even closer to the Boches than at Verdun, but there happened to be no really active fighting during those periods. Hence, when the front line is mentioned, it may often mean nothing of serious importance, and yet again it may mean the most appalling activity.

For instance, at the time of the unfortunate death of Richard Hall, of Section 3, and again on the occasion of the sad taking off of Kelly, of Section 4, these squads were working in what were thought for the moment to be quiet sectors. Yet Section 1, at Souville, and during the battle of Fleury, had nearly all of its cars hit, but not one man was even scratched. Such is the luck of the game !

When we four new recruits — Roche, who was Captain of the Princeton Crew in 1911, Mason, hurdles at Harvard, 1908, Crane, also Harvard, and myself — first made our appearance on the grounds of the big hospital at Neuilly, we were regarded with a certain amount of interest by the khaki-clad, swank-looking drivers who happened to be loafing about the yard at the time. The impression they made upon us was one of questioning doubt. One felt as though they were uncertain in their minds as to whether one had skipped the country with somebody's wad or his wife, or both.

As a matter of fact, I doubt if more than half the men go over to France from really altruistic motives, although later on France gets a sort of grip on you that is hard to explain, and one begins to want to stay and to "see it through." It is her wonderful steadfastness in the terrible vicissitudes through which she has passed. It is the unfailing cheerfulness of the people and the way they regard the War as a disagreeable duty to be performed. No heroics! No lamentations ! They go about the bloody business as if it were part of the day's work.

All this does not get to one for a while, but it gradually sinks in; and few of the returning men I have seen were going home willingly. It was because of affairs, family, financial, or collegiate; and nearly every one hoped to be able to come back and be in at the finish. Indeed, several did come back during my stay, and since my return to America I hear of more who have felt the strong call. Life seems so banal after one has been a part, however humble, of history in the making. As I write, I know that if I had my way, I should be back there washing my old "Tin Lizzie" in some muddy horsepond, right now.

Well, after proving we were white, fairly healthy, and not palpable fugitives from the law, we were permitted to purchase uniforms, various sundries, and to join the other new recruits burrowing their oily way into the vitals of more or less dilapidated heaps of junk which we were told were cars that had been brought back from the front to be overhauled.

The following pages I have left in diary form, just as they were jotted down at irregular intervals. In reading them over, I can see the gradual development of the raw " freshman," in the presence of things that strike him as strange at first, until he reaches the more or less "fed-up" attitude of the average so-called veteran.

i

March 5, 1916. On board French Line

S.S. Rochambeau. Carrying three bundles, a bag, a bunch of rugs, and A. B.'s luncheon taken at the Holland House, I boarded the Rochambeau with some effort yesterday just as the whistle sounded, while I kissed various people good-bye. For a week I have been doing nothing else. This teary sob-stuff gets on one's nerves, particularly when one is scared to death anyhow. It 's the least kind thing one person can do to another, to call his attention to various things that may happen to him on a sea trip. I met a number of nice people, — a Frenchman, a priest, and a silk buyer; the latter wept most of the way out of New York Harbor, recalling "the wife" at home, and giving out a lot of maudlin stuff. I inquired how long he expected to remain abroad and he said, "Ten days"! Since then I have disliked him intensely. He kicks about the food too ! I have not, as yet, met the other Ambulance men. There are about six, but they keep to themselves. Thank Heaven, the bartender knows how to mix a dry martini. I 've got a fine stateroom. The food is poor and scanty, but I expected that. The ship is shorthanded and very deep in the water, — even carrying freight piled high on the after deck. Only one good-looker aboard and the Captain has already nailed her — curses! I've met a nice Englishman who is going back to his mother to die. He has lung trouble and prefers mother to his wife and family and Reading, Pennsylvania, as a place to finish off. His mother lives at Grenoble, in the Alps. One Frenchman ordered onion soup this morning for breakfast. Everybody left the table. I got a bully lot of farewell letters, gifts, and telegrams — some from quite unexpected sources. It 's nice to find one has so many friends, but why do they all give one shaving kits?

March 8. Nothing doing yesterday. Met most of the Ambulance men, — nice fellows, — R. T. Roche, the aforesaid Captain of Princeton Crew in 1911, Austin B. Mason, of Boston and of hurdles fame at Harvard, 1908, and William D wight Crane, of New York and Harvard. Cargo mostly ether and oil; also munitions. There is a heavy roll, — racks on table; many dishes broken; tramp steamer caused excitement, likewise hot air about possible German raider. The boys are trying to get up a concert with a "busted" piano and no one to sing. Just met an en- American Ambulance man. Was in the Pont-a-Mousson Section and got Croix de Guerre. He used to do newspaper work. He is now with a "bunch" from Pittsburgh backed by a rich woman who wishes to drive her own car at the front. She's got a swell chance ! He is beginning to get weary of his crowd. They only have one car in "White" and they expect to operate as an Individual Unit! ! ! !

March 9. Still no news as to how the fight went at Verdun. Expected surely some information from Eiffel Tower; but if the Captain has received any, he is keeping it dark. More German-raider scares, when passing several freighters. I have met a nice old Italian returning from America where he was buying horses for his government. One of his sons already has been killed in the battle of Trentino. Another son also is at the front. He does all kinds of sleight-of-hand tricks. The sea has calmed down again, and the weather is fine.

Funny how people act in these raider rumors — women get excited, men pretend to be very calm and joke nervously about being marooned on a desert island a la Robinson Crusoe. The only one I'd like to be marooned with seems to have made a date with some one else. The old Italian has great respect for the Germans, says they are the best business men — not bright, but very efficient. He thinks that neither side has as yet been even moderately weakened and looks for the war to last at least two years more. Almost every one else thinks a year should end it.

March 10. At last news from Verdun.

French still holding. Also news of British and Russian gains. Several ships (Allies) sunk; and one German boat reported escaped from internment at Bordeaux. This aroused some uneasiness, as that is our destination. I have given all my books to the sick Englishman, as he says he can't get anything but French literature at Grenoble. Met a returning French officer — Comte de Portanier de la Rochette. He has been ten months in the trenches without so much as a scratch. Has been on an eight days' leave in the United States! Met a former Philadelphian, by name Josiah Williams, a doctor, who has been in the war since the start. He is a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, class '88. Was in the battle of the Champagne tending first poste de secours. Very interesting. He thinks the French have them licked now. Knows Drs. " Billy" White, "Jim" Hutchinson, and used to know Dr. Pepper. March 11. Quite rough. De la Rochette says that in the Champagne battle, when they captured German trenches, he, himself, found seven dead Germans chained to their machine guns. Head winds and seas will make us a day late at least. The silk merchant is seasick, so we've had a respite on "the wife back in the States" stuff. I 've met a young woman of uncertain vintage who is on her way to Monte Carlo. Spends her time knocking American efforts to help France; says the Ambulance men only go over for notoriety's sake. I let her rave on, and when she was all through, bid her good-night, remarking that I was doing that myself. I hope it taught her a lesson.

March 12. The Catholic priest and some of his friends announce that they will not attend the concert because little " blondy " collected the money. The ladies are rabid. One went to the priest and told him she understood that his job included being charitable to sinners as well as others. Priest very sheepish and presented a French novel for the auction! The little blonde, of course, is a professional; but she has done more than any one else in the way of getting up things for the wounded. The sea is so calm that several people I had not seen before turned up on deck. Imagine being in an 8 x 10 hole for eight days. Passed several tramps. Boats have been swung out and most people expect to sleep for the next two nights more or less fully dressed. We are now in the War Zone. We hold the auction and concert to-night.