Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/backfromhellOObensrich "BACK FROM HELL' SAMUEL CRANSTON BENSON Who went to the war, a pacifist, but returned a fighting American. "Back From Hell 99 BY SAMUEL CRANSTON BENSON Illustrated CHICAGO A. C. McCLURG & CO. 1918 Copyright A. C. McClurg & Co. 1918 Published September, 1918 Copyrighted in Great Britain F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CHICASO to dl$Ip Wife QPOr^QQ CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A Former Pacifist i II Red Tape in Traveling 9 III How I Got into the Service .... 15 IV A Unit in Its Infancy 20 V The Northwest Front — Mud ! ... 25 VI A Weird Night 30 VII The Red Cross 36 VIII When France Was First "Gassed" . . 42 IX When Jacques "Went West" . ... 47 X "Trench Nightmare" 51 XI Calm Before a Storm 56 XII If an Ambulance Could Speak .... 60 XIII A Ticklish Attack 64 XIV The Death of a Comrade 67 XV On an Old Battle Ground 74 XVI The Verdun Attack — Life and Death . 79 XVII Barrage, or Curtain Fire 93 XVIII The Ragpicker 106 XIX Camouflage ii2 XX The Heroism of the Wounded . . .116 XXI The Treacherous "German Souvenir" . 123 XXII The Nigger's Nose 128 XXIII Getting By the Consuls ...... 132 Contents CHAPTER PAGE XXIV A Close Shave 145 XXV Meeting Brand Whitlock 148 XXVI My Maps of Belgium 151 XXVII The "Cat and Mouse" Game . . . .156 XXVIII Shadowed at Liege 159 XXIX Results of'Trightfulness" 163 XXX My Mental Processes 168 XXXI A Night in Lou vain 174 XXXII Ruin and Death 178 XXXIII In the Palace of the King 187 XXXIV The Kaiser's Envy 190 XXXV Caught by the Huns and Tried as a Spy 196 XXXVI Threatened with Crucifixion .... 204 XXXVII My Escape and Return to Good Old France aio XXXVIII No Man's Land 215 XXXIX Jean and "Frenchie" 223 XL The Psychology of France 228 XLI The Contagious Spirit of Sacrifice . . 233 XLII The Heritage of Hate 238 XLIII "Back From Hell" 243 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Samuel Cranston Benson Frontispiece American Ambulance Headquarters, Neuilly, France 22 Ambulance Ready to Leave for the Front .... 22 An American Woman Caring for a Little Wounded French Child 38 An American Ambulance Ready for Duty .... 60 American Ambulances on the Road to the Front . . 80 Allied Troops Charging Through Barbed-Wire Entanglements 102 A Dressing Station Set Up on Newly Captured Ground I20 A Hurry Call 134 "Jumbo," the Biggest Ambulance on the Western Front 134 The Burning of a French Field Hospital . . . . 1 70 Ambulance Men Working Over a "Gassed" Soldier 225 Destruction of a French Hospital by a German Bomb 238 American Hospital at Neuilly Transferred to General Pershing 246 "Back From Hell 99 CHAPTER I A FORMER PACIFIST WHEN the old Chicago cut loose from her moorings in an Atlantic port it was a red letter day for me. She was a good sized craft, of the French Line, and was to carry a lot of other Americans, besides myself, from the United States to France. We were all in a spirit of expectancy, mingled perhaps with sadness, for we were going over to see and have a hand in the most stupendous event of history, the Great War. Although many different motives actuated us, our destination was the same, and all of us would soon be within striking distance of the scene of action. Some of those on board were going pri- marily from a sense of duty and gratitude to the great European Republic, whose men had come over here in '76 to help America kick off the chains which George in had welded on her ankles, and secondarily, because they wanted to kill a few of the Germans whom they right well hated. ^'Back From Hell Others were going, and made no bones about saying so, because they were natural born soldiers of fortune and were inclined to go anywhere that action and excitement were likely to be found. A few were to be mere onlookers who were crossing the sea as students of a great world move- ment, who, from an economic or social point of view, would tabulate in a cold and matter-of-course way, the facts which they observed and the con- clusions to which they came. I belonged to neither of these classes. I was an innocent idealist, though soon, alas, to be dis- illusioned. I had resigned a comfortable pastor- ate in order to go over and, as I conceived of it, relieve the pain and soothe the fevered brow of those who were in suffering, irrespective of whether they were Allies or Germans, and thus help usher in a world Utopia. I had always taken myself rather too seriously at home, and thought I was a broad-visioned per- son whose universality of mind elevated me to a position where I could see beyond provincial boundary lines, and overlook such things as race and creed and national ideals, thinking of all men as made in the image of God, and all destined for one great goal which was the Brotherhood A Former Pacifist of Man, where all would be happy, and each would deal justly and kindly with his neighbor. It Is a natural tendency, I suppose, of most ministers to be optimistic about the ultimate out- come of the human race, and I was one of this class. I had buttoned my long frock coat close about my collar and rubbed my hands in that familiar, good-natured way, saying that sometime national prejudices would be wiped out and the people of the various countries would come to see each other's viewpoints, and then their differences would vanish away. I hadn't yet seen the German at his worst. The time would come, I thought, when all would fraternize as God Intended that they should and this wicked rivalry and jealousy would cease. It seemed to me that even my fellow-Ameri- cans, along with the French and other nations, were too narrow In their views of things, and that, they were equally guilty with the Germans In falling or refusing to understand the minds of other people. The men who had urged inter- vention in Mexico and intervention in Europe, I took It, were men who were engaged in manu- facturing munitions, or who were directly Inter- ested In war from a business point of view. They Back From Heir' wanted dollars. A part of my philosophy was that God would bring about a settlement of all these conflicts In His own good time, and we need not worry about it. Another part of my philos- ophy, so it happened, was pacifism. I was a great admirer of William Jennings Bryan, and I thought his peace teaching was — well — great stuff I I had interpreted the life and teaching of Jesus as being unalterably opposed to violence of any kind. No matter what the circumstance, bloodshed could not be justified. " Resist not evir* was His ideal and, therefore, it should be mine also, and as I look at it now, I guess I went even further than He did, in my theories at any rate. For He did use violence occasionally, when it was necessary. " If a man smite thee on one cheek, turn the other also," was my motto, and I did not believe in striking back. Tolstoi, with his doctrine of nonresistance, from whom Mr. Bryan received large Influence, as he once told me, was my Ideal man, and the only real Christian since Jesus. I had also said there would never be another war; a war of any size. I knew, of course, that there had always been crusades in history, and even the most religious people had killed each A Former Pacifist other by thousands, and had often made the claim that God had told them to do so, but I considered them to have been misguided fa- natics of an outgrown age who may have thought they were doing right, but who were in reality committing murder and breaking God's great law. My father had also been a minister, and he was so meek and peaceful that he held one pastorate for a quarter of a century, a thing which, by the way, I doubt If I shall ever do! He was Inclined to be a bit pessimistic and to lament the heartless struggle which takes place all through nature and human life, and he was extremely pacific. I inherited the same traits. My mother also had been a peace-loving woman, but she believed in justice, and I think I Inherited from her my aggressive disposition. I was such a pacifist that I was militant In It and some- times alienated even my admirers by my doc- trine. However, after Europe went to war I could see the storm gathering In the United States, and I looked upon It with feelings of fear and fore- boding. I was down In the depths. I felt that "over there" they were already, and over here Back From Hell it was likely that we soon would be violating God's commandment, "THOU SHALT NOT KILL." I did not believe in killing. I had lectured with David Starr Jordan and spoken with Mr- Bryan. I hated war. As a minister of the gospel my natural inclination was to preach gentle for- giveness and tender mercy, and how I did preach it I I was for peace at any price. I preached peace in my church and I preached it on the street. I even went so far as to rent halls and denounce the doctrine of military preparedness as a dangerous and vicious propaganda. I declared with all my power that America ,, ought to keep herself out of this war and that she ought to suffer any indignity rather than take up the sword and slay other people. I said that was murder. While not approving of the sink- ing of the merchant ships, yet I said that those people who traveled on belligerent vessels did, so at their own risk and that the United States ought not to bring blood upon her hands because others had done so. I had no antipathy toward the German people. I liked them. I had shown this by studying German in college as my only fof- A Former Pacifist eign language. I joined the " Deutscher Verein" as my only fraternity, and when I went abroad to study, It was a German university that I sought. I knew of course that Germany's military system was a despotic one and that her own people were virtually slaves to the government. But above all I cried " Peace for the United States I '' So when I resigned my pulpit in Patton, Pa., and told my con- gregation that I was going to the scene of war In Belgium, they were astonished beyond measure. I hastened to reassure them, however, that the pur- pose of my going was not to fight, but rather to re- lieve distress and carry In the wounded. I had felt a call to take up this task, and at this they became somewhat more reconciled. So In a few weeks' time I was on my way. When I embarked upon that great ship In New York I was alone. And I want to tell you if you have never gone down the long pier and walked In solitude up the gangplank of a transatlantic liner you cannot Imagine the feeling of loneliness I had. Especially strong was this feeling because that ship was to take me to the hell of a world war and I did not know to what else. As we put off and glided down by that old Statue of Liberty, leaving it in the distance, I began to cry, for I didn't know 8 ''Back From Heir whether I should ever see it again. It seemed as if I had said good-bye to my last friend. Many of the people aboard were foreigners and I suppose I looked a pathetic figure as I stood there. I know I felt like one. That night the lights were doused and we be- gan to realize that things were serious. When great ships sail in darkness there is something wrong. The ensuing voyage lasted ten days and when I was not walking the decks those days I used to lie in my berth and look out the porthole and often wonder what was ahead for me. \ After a week and a half on the ocean we finally j landed on the coast of France. Meanwhile I had \ made several acquaintances, mainly with French people, and I had begun to think I had learned their language. A rude awakening was in store for me before I had been in France an hour I CHAPTER II RED TAPE IN TRAVELING AS WE bumped into the dock at Havre I was given my first scare. I was taken in charge by a French soldier who wore a red and blue cap, a huge overcoat with the corners buttoned back, and red trousers with the lower parts stuck in his boots. These things, however, did not have any particular interest for me; not that I was an indifferent on- looker by any means, but the thing I was interested in was on the end of his rifle; the big shining steel bayonet, which to me had a most vicious aspect. It was sixteen inches long but I thought it looked like sixteen feet. Without losing any time this mian took me over to the Registration Department, where another man asked me a lot of fool questions, scanned my passport, and finally gave me a permit of some kind or other. I then asked him what time the train went to Paris. "One minute," he said in French. I thought I'd have to hustle, but he was very deliberate. He filled out a printed blank, 9 lo ''Back From Hell'' taking five minutes to do so and then handed it to me, saying in English, *^Zis will give you ze per- mission to inquire what time ze train goes to Parees.'' From that moment on my stay in Eu- rope, as I now look back upon it, was one continu- ous performance of asking for, and getting, or being refused, permits to go somewhere or to come somewhere or to remain somewhere. Now time, money, and patience were all limited assets with me, but the European officials did not seem to realize this or else were very inconsiderate. They wasted half my time, extracted at least two- thirds of my money, and absolutely exhausted my patience. At risk of having my name instantly recommended for membership in the Ananias Club, I will defiantly state that I had to have five different kinds of papers on my person to allow me to start for Paris, to get to Paris, to remain In Paris, to be Identified In Paris, and to drive an automobile In Paris. If I slipped a cog anywhere I was lost. They say a chain Is no stronger than Its weakest link, and I had to possess every link In this chain of paper. I remember one fellow who had lost his per- mit to come to Paris. When he passed his ex- amination for a driver's license, the old fossil in I Red Tape in Traveling 1 1 charge would not give it to him. As I understood the matter, the theory was that he could not pos- sibly be in Paris at the time as he could show no paper allowing him to come. And let me say in passing, some of these papers come high. I have figured it all up many times, and as near as I can estimate, the papers, all told, which I had to take out during my European stay, set me back about fifty pounds, five shillings and four pence, or in the neighborhood of two hundred and fifty dollars. It seemed as though every time I turned around some fellow was extending to me a handful of papers and an empty palm. But relieving me of money was not all. The red tape connected with it was what worried me most. Before I could re- ceive the particular permit I wanted, I usually had to take another paper over to another man and swear to a lot of things and get his O. K. upon it. This went hard with me because Fm not used to swearing. Tm a preacher. In my experience the application was a more formidable thing than the permit itself, and then after I finally received the permit I had to take it down to the Prefect of Police and have it regis- tered before evening. If this was neglected my permit was invalidated and the whole perform- 12 ''Back From Heir' ance had to be gone over again next day. After the permit was registered I had to bring back the voucher of registration and deposit It with the man who Issued the permit. The reason for all this Is that every nation in the war takes It for granted that every foreigner is a spy, until he Is proved not to be, and every na- tion not In the war thinks all visitors are trying to get them to violate their neutrality and thus get them into the war. I will admit, however, that deal- ing with neutral diplomats Is a lot easier than deal- ing with the belligerents. Then also you have to remember a great many passwords. If you go out of Paris you are given a password, after proving your right to receive the same, and you can't get in again until you give it. If you happen to go to another town or city on the same trip, the same thing happens, only the pass- word Is different and all of them change every day. So It Is not hard to Imagine something of the in- tricate system which Is kept up, and the confusing details which are required In order to get from one place to another and back again. Of course. If you absolutely forget or lose the password, there are other alternatives but they require a tremendous lot of red tape. You can hunt up the proper offi- Red Tape in Traveling 13 cial, wait until he is at leisure, perhaps two hours, tell him about your unfortunate predicament, pre- sent all your papers, and after convincing him that you are entitled to the password you may receive it from him if he is willing to give it to you. I traveled in Europe before the war and it irri- tated me as it does most Americans, to be com- pelled incessantly to register my name and address, age, occupation, place of birth, and the same de- tails of my father and mother, place of entering the country and length of time I had been there; but this was nothing compared to the formalities and the irritating requirements of the present time. French officials try to be as accommodating and polite as possible, but if you object to any point, they tell you with a shrug of the shoulders, that they must live up to the regulations and that they must be very careful, as the country is full of spies and peace propagandists. If you travel at all through the country by auto- mobile, you have to come to a halt at every cross- road and every bridge. Patrols with rifles are sta- tioned at these places and the man who tried to run by one of these would be shot down instantly. You are required to produce all your papers, which are scanned by the guards, who, if satisfied, will then 14 ''Back From Hell'' let you drive on in peace until you come to the next guarded point. If the guards are not satisfied, you sheepishly turn your car around, go back to Paris, get your papers rectified, or get additional ones and strike out again. You often lose hours of time and, not infrequently, days as well, in getting the re- quired permits. You get angry at first, but it does no good and you may as well quickly learn to keep your temper, for when you think it all over you will realize that when such a vital issue is at stake, every possible precaution must be taken. CHAPTER III HOW I GOT INTO THE SERVICE MY FIRST formal call when I got to Paris was upon Ambassador Sharp. This, how- ever, was not until I had been in the city several days. I had become acquainted on the ship with a party of Serbians who had been mining up in Alaska and were now going back to fight the Austrians. They had some difficulty and delay in arranging their passports, so I remained with them until they got away. When at last I called on Mr. Sharp and told him I wanted to go to Belgium, he asked me why I didn't stay and do relief work in France. He informed me that I would not be allowed to go to Belgium anyway, as the German Government had already required the United States to withdraw many of the consuls. He said my work was needed there in France. Of course I agreed with him — under the circumstances I Acting upon his suggestion and with his letter of endorsement I went to Neuilly and applied for work in the now IS i6 '' Back From Heir well-known American Ambulance. I was ac- cepted almost immediately and then I carefully re- moved my frock coat and folded it up. Without delay I received a uniform and equipment and set to work. The outfit was issued to me free, although men with plenty of money had to pay for theirs. I remember having my picture taken in uniform and sending it to my parishioners in the States, who wrote back and told me of the interest and comment it caused when shown at a church social. From the outset we were very busy. I was put on the base or Paris squad in the beginning, as most all of the new men were, temporarily, and the very first night I was sent out with a Swiss Frenchman to a depot at Aubervilliers, which was being used as a receiving hospital. There on the floor of that great building many hundreds of wounded soldiers lay mutilated and suffering. Some had their jaws blown off. Others had eyes or noses gone. I shall never forget that dreary night. There was a cold rain driving and I was soaked to the skin, but there were many human beings who suffered worse than I did for their country's sake. When I saw one man who had been hit by a German dumdum or explosive bullet, I gritted my teeth. We were kept working all night transporting those poor How I Got into the Service ij fellows in Ford ambulances from the railroad station to the different hospitals, as the French officers instructed. On each trip we carried three lying-down cases, or if the wounded could sit up we conveyed five. For some time thereafter this was our main work. But after several weeks had passed, the winter began to break and with it the spring offensive opened up. I was with section two of the Ambu- lance, later called section Y, and a very capable man from the Middle West, was in charge as commander. This section had been stationed at Beauvais, doing local duty mainly, but occasionally working up toward the Soissons Sector and on a line directly south of Ypres, afterward being trans- ferred to the East. The wounded, whom we car- ried, were little more than bundles of mud and rain- soaked, blood-stained masses of human pulp. Most of them were French soldiers, we being with the French forces, but we did have also quite a num- ber of British Tommies and still more Belgians. I shall always think of those Belgians as such plucky fellows. No matter how badly wounded they were, as a rule when we talked with them, and spoke about getting the "Allemands" or the " Boches " or the " Kaiser " they would double up 1 8 ''Back From Heir their fists and jocularly show fight by hitting him an imaginary undercut, or they would draw their open hands across their throats and say, ''The Kaiser Kaput!" At first I liked the Belgians best. One night we carried a Belgian soldier who had both legs and both arms fractured, and every time we made a move he must have suffered the tortures of hell, yet never a sound came from him. In fact their stoicism was remarkable; hardly ever was there any groaning or complaining. But as time went on and we became better ac- quainted with the French disposition, through inti- mate contact with French individuals, we liked them better. At first, I had not cared much for the French. I am ashamed to say it now, as it was my own lack of appreciation, but when my eyes at last were opened, my regard for them became high and lasting. One day after a terrible bombardment near S , a hlesse or wounded soldier, whom we had carried back to the hospital said, '' Comrade, I love ithe Americans." I did not reply at once. He con- tinued, "Do you love the French?" "Yes," I said, " I have come to love them very deeply. At first I did not know about it but now I do." He lay How I Got into the Service 19 very still and white, and after a moment said, " Mu- tual understanding is the basis of love," and then he went to sleep. He never woke up. Many a poor mangled poilu who was just about to "go West" spoke in the same strain, and I came to realize that the old love for America which LaFayette had kindled over a century before, still lurked in the heart of France. America threw off the tyrant's yoke in 1776, and France threw off the despot's chains in 1789, and thirteen years is a very small difference in ages between brothers, na- tionally speaking. Since then both Republics have made a lot of mistakes and rectified many of them, but let it be said both have made marvelous rec- ords in the development of democratic government and they are now working and fighting side by side, comrades in the cause of human liberty. CHAPTER IV A UNIT IN ITS INFANCY THE Story of the American Ambulance Serv- ice has been written by abler pens than mine and so I will give but a brief account of it. When the war first began the idea of serving France through ambulance work was con- ceived by a few large-visioned Americans. The plant of the fine new boys' school called the " Lycee Pasteur" was turned over to these men for the ambulance headquarters. The beginnings had been small, Henry Ford having donated in 19 14 ten ambulances with which the movement started. Early in the next year, however, the American Am- bulance institution became attached to the French forces which were in active service. The work of the preceding months was quite essential in its way, as its errors no doubt pointed out the path to the later efficiency, and a larger number of ambulances were being accumulated from week to week. The first donation of machines made it possible for the organization at the very beginning to participate 20 A Unit in Its Infancy 21 in the transport work, and the ever Increasing num- ber of cars necessitated the forming of squads in the endeavor to broaden the scope of the service. There were at first five ambulances In each squad and these were loaned to the French forces, but because the squads were so small they were used by the French to supplement the regular gov- ernment sections which were already in action be- hind the lines. Their chief work was that of hos- pital evacuation, which it was soon perceived could be performed more advantageously by the heavier ambulances of the sections which had been working at these hospitals before. But in the early spring a change was made in the organization of the American service and a new man was given charge. Through his Influence the French officials gave the American Ambulance Service a trial on the firing line. A section was dispatched to the Vosges which soon gained the recognition of its com- manders, who requested that It be doubled in size. When this request was complied with, the section moved to the front In Alsace, in connection with a similar French section. Very soon after another section of the same size was organized and sent to Pont-a-Mousson, connected also, as the former one had been, with a French section. During this time 22 ''Back From Hell'' also a squad had been stationed at Dunkirk in northern France. The American Field Service was at last a reality. These three sections now began to make history and demonstrated considerable usefulness to the cause. The Americans in Alsace took over the dressing station on the battle line, and soon found themselves caring for an entire region, which be- came famous for its baptism of fire. The section at Pont-a-Mousson has an enviable record. When it first went to Pont-a-Mousson the French service which was already stationed there was amalgamated with It. Later on this section made the mountain dressing stations possible, which heretofore had been quite Impossible. The section at Dunkirk had been engaged In caring for the wounded from air raids and from bombard- ments by the Germans almost twenty miles away. This section was now honored by being doubled again and given work to do at several Important points along the battle line, and with the French army In Belgium. All the sections now became of acknowledged value and In a remarkably short period their prac- tical possibilities were recognized. Wherever pos- sible the French sections were speedily removed AMERICAN AMBULANCE HEADQUARTERS, NEUILLY, FRANCE. This magnificent building was its first home. ^"^M^^y% ^M Ifj^p ^^a m AMBULANCES READY TO LEAVE FOR THE FRONT. 'A Unit in Its Infancy 23 and the whole work given over to the American units. No car could have been chosen for ambu- lance service which was better fitted for it than the Ford. The mud is the greatest problem around Dunkirk, but it was no barrier to the Ford. The large supply trucks at Pont-a-Mousson were out- stripped by the Fords, and the slow and somewhat clumsy mules In Alsace were superseded by them. The drivers were largely college men from Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, and other univer- sities, who put great action and inspiration into the service. Later on the section from Dunkirk was sent up to the Aisne. The section at Pont-a- Mousson went to Verdun, and that in Alsace was sent over to Pont-a-Mousson. Several other sec- tions were also organized and played a most im- portant part in transporting the wounded of the Allies. From the very first day of mobilization it had been a terrible problem for the French, who needed every last man to fight the enemy, to spare enough to care for those who were wounded in the fighting. This is most important work, as it means the getting of the wounded men into shape as quickly as possible, so they can be put into the fighting line again. The world knows that from 24 ''Back From Heir' the first the man power of the French Republic has been strained to its capacity and the French wel- comed with joy the aid which the Americans offered in this direction. It released many of their own men and furnished many cars which otherwise they would have had to supply themselves, di- verting them from the most vital points. The taxi- cab army which Paris sent out in the first days of the war was not equipped for ambulance work, and so from that time on, for almost three years, the men and ambulances from America were uti- lized and welcomed with enthusiasm. The French will never forget and certainly the Americans will remember with pride the assistance they were able to render in the days when the lib- erty and existence of the nation hung by a patheti- cally slender thread. CHAPTER V THE NORTHWEST FRONT — MUD I THE section which had been at Dunkirk and in Flanders had some interesting experi- ences. The larger part of the time the boys were put up in stables and slept on straw or in the ambu- lances. They had gone out in the early spring and were detailed to work around Dunkirk carry- ing the blesses from the freight depot to the sev- eral hospitals as the French authorities directed. Working In mud under air raids and long range bombardments was not unusual to them. The history of the northwest front Is a history of men in mud. From Dunkirk to Verdun and much farther, this ugly nightmare tears the soul. [The world has heard of the mud In Flanders, long ere this, and I believe this war has done more to advertise the real estate of that country than any- thing else could do. I suppose the people of the Western Hemisphere never knew there was so much mud In the world. I know I never did. And Flanders Is not the only place that has It either. *5 26 ''Back From Heir That entire front Is blessed with it extending two hundred miles long and almost two feet deep. If I had unlimited time I would figure up just how much mud there was. We think we have mud in America, Missouri boasts of most of it, and has thus become proverbial. I once read of an old colonel who was riding along on his horse one day in Missouri during the Civil War when he saw an old hat lying in the mud on the side of the road. Strange to say, the hat kept revolving, first one way and then the other. The colonel's curiosity finally got the better of him and he dismounted and went over to where the hat was lying. Giving it a kick he discovered a private's head under It smiling up at him graciously. *' Well, my man," said the colonel, "you'll pardon me, but can I do anything to help you ? You seem to be In a pretty bad way." "Oh, yes," answered the private, "but as for myself, I'll make out all right, for I can breathe. It's not myself I'm worrying about, but the horse that's under me sure Is In a bad way." I thought of this story a thousand times while over there, and I think I told It at least half that number of times. The mud In the spring is so thick that It oppresses one. It gets on your mind as well as on your body. A person who only has i The Northwest Front — Mud! 27 an occasional trip may laugh at it, but when one drives through it day and night, and night and day for weeks the humor of It all wears off. It be- comes a mighty serious affair. In many places it is thick and sticky like bread dough and piles up on your wheels or feet making It almost Impossible to move. The clay, or gumbo, in America cannot compare with It. It Is whitish gray In color and even when It Is not heavy It Is exceedingly dis- agreeable. It splashes on your clothes and flies in your eyes. It gets Into your ears, your nose, and your hair, and not Infrequently Into your mouth if you talk or laugh too much. It has a resem- blance to gray paint and partakes very much of Its nature. Once it gets on your clothes It is im- possible to get It off and It even sticks to and stains your flesh so that it requires hard scrubbing with soap and hot water to remove It. Yet when It splashes you In this manner It Is pleasant — com- pared to the discouraging effect when it Is heavy 1 One day when I was going to a shop with an empty car for some repairs, I met my old antago- nist, French mud. It was the genuine article this time too, the kind that gets a hold and doesn't let go. I was turning out of the road to allow a camion to go by but In my eagerness to avoid it I 28 ''Back From Heir' swerved an inch too far. Little by little I felt the back end of my car sliding off the road so I threw in low speed and opened the gas. The front wheels stayed on the higher ground but the rear wheels seemed to be trying to catch up with them and finally did so, but when they did, they pulled the whole car off into the gutter which was not steep but oh, so muddy. I labored and strug- gled with the gas and the low speed. I groaned and swore, I stalled my engine and got out to crank it, and when I did I couldn't get in again. I used up ten minutes in getting my feet out of that mud and getting them cleaned up. I tried it again but it was no use, the car would not come, for it was stuck. That was the only explanation there was, it was stuck in French mud. Not having any chains I tried to put sticks and boards under the wheels and I succeeded but they went so far under that I could not see what became of them. I finally began pulling a farmer's rail fence to pieces in my attempt to pry out the wheels and get a founda- tion to start from, but at last I had to walk more than a mile till I found two men at a farmhouse who came down with a heavy team to pull me out. When they arrived at the place where the car was stuck, lo, the fence which I had dismantled be- The Northwest Front — Mud! 29 longed to one of the men. He looked at me with a peculiar expression. I thought he was angry and was going to scold me and demand payment for damage to his property. In a couple of sec- onds, however, we both burst out into a hearty laugh for he appreciated the situation as well as I. With a large log chain looped around the front axle of the car the great horses put their necks into the collar and hauled it out. The men would not accept a cent of pay, one of them saying, " Not a sou, it*s for France." CHAPTER VI A WEIRD NIGHT ONE midnight after a certain engagement " somewhere in France " in which many men fell, I learned of an experience which burned its way into my soul, and I believe will stay there till the Judgment Day. I have read in history of indi- viduals such as the one I am telling of, but never In my life have I had actual knowledge of any but this one, and I hope that I shall hereafter forever be delivered from such. This particular night the firing for some reason had suddenly ceased. A man named Valke was an emergency watcher at a listening post, when the most blood-curdling thing I have ever known occurred. A listening post is a branch off from the main trench toward the enemy or In his general direc- tion, which is dug secretly as you go, the dirt being carried back In bags so as not to disclose its loca- tion. These posts must be changed often, as the enemy is apt to discover them, and then look out I 30 A Weird Night 31 Valke was standing in the darkness and seclu- sion of the post when a shriek rent the air, the sound of which he said he would hear through eternity. It came from a man who was prostrate on the ground. He had noticed the body lying there before, a few yards away, and had assumed that the man was dead. He was a Frenchman, and on account of the darkness could be seen with difficulty. But he was not dead, only unconscious, and something had suddenly revived him. "O God,'' he cried, "my marriage ring!" and then he moaned and groaned like a lost soul in agony. Immediately another form raised up to full stature and looked quickly about. Valke had to strain his eyes to see him and he trembled with nervousness. He did not know what to do for an instant. The man's head jerked this way and that. He must have expected someone to hear the cries and groans of the other man, and evidently was looking around for watchers or listeners. The Frenchman kept on groaning, and the man, seem- ing to fear that if any watchers were near, they would immediately let loose upon him, started to run. Valke kept very still in his dark post. Suddenly the fugitive stopped. He turned and ran back to the prostrate Frenchman. Valke saw 32 ''Back From Heir' the gleam of a knife drawn from a sheath. It was in the hand of the apache. In an instant the horrid thing was done — a swift movement of the arm, a flash,» and the blade plunged into the body of the helpless soldier I Then silence : silence more terrible than the groans of agony that it stilled. Valke's fists clinched by instinct, the nails cutting into the very flesh of his palms ; and then his right hand went to the holster on his hip. It was all too plain: the hideous vulture of the battlefield knew that " dead men tell no tales," and that the wounded sometimes recover and tell things that lead to fearful reprisals on their enemies. More than that: wounded men cry out and groan; but the dead are quiet. The knife had done its work: escape might be surer for the assassin. That's the logic of ghouls. Valke drew his service pistol, but hesitated to fire. To do so might betray his listening post and draw the enemy's shrapnel; it might be fatal to the section. In the second that Valke cast up the chances, he heard whisperings from another lis- tening post. The ghoul had risen and was slink- ing for cover when the crack of a rifle tore a gap in the stillness. A light flashed up fifty yards ahead. Instinctively, the prowler sought the cover A Weird Night 33 of a bush nearby and waited for the lapse of atten- tion which might let him dash to safety. A sentry on patrol came up, passed, and vanished. That was the apache's chance I He came out of hiding and skulked along the entanglements hoping to find an alleyway to safety. The way led him right in front of Valke's listening post. A flash lamp shot its beam of blinding light full on the assassin's face. "Who goes there?" challenged Valke. No answer. "Who goes there?" . . . Silence; not a sound. ''QuiVivef' . . . No reply. ''Qui Vive?" Then Valke pressed the trigger and with a groan the apache crumpled up, dead. " For a minute," said Valke in telling me the story, " the thought of what I had done made me shudder, though it was nothing but a plain matter of army duty. The man had been challenged, well knowing the penalty of war for silence. And yet — I had killed him I It made me feel faint. But when we examined the body it was all right again inside of me. That German held In his hand a bleeding human finger, still at blood heat, and 34 ''Back From Heir around that finger was a marriage ring! In his pocket he had an emblem pin and a gold watch and chain; and on his own finger a diamond ring — all snatched from the dead or dying bodies of men who had made the supreme sacrifice for France I Who could pity such a vile ghoul as he ? " From that hour I believe my transformation began. I thought of my sacred calling, the min- istry. My church at home flashed into my mind. What would people think? How would I stand in the eyes of God? I reflected on my former teachings and beliefs. Could I face my friends, to whom I had preached peace and gentleness, now that I had applauded violence and war? Was it right or justifiable? My mind was very much perturbed and I was extremely nervous. A proc- ess of moral regeneration of my ideas was going on. This, I now believe, to be as important as a man's spiritual conversion, and step by step this book unfolds the process in my life. I stood at an hour of decision. I faced life. Its issues must be met. Here In the presence of death I had my supreme struggle. Time divided I The roads parted. Eternity was ahead. Where was I ? I was In hell ! Right then it surrounded, enveloped, engulfed me. The hour was freighted with des- A Weird Night 35 tiny. Then came a sudden high resolve. '* I must take the path of right and duty, wherever it may lead, e'en * though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Thou art with me.' Duty may re- quire violence and war." My pacifism began to fade away, as I saw visions of mutilated men. Then all went black. CHAPTER VII THE RED CROSS CARING for men, not only those who are wounded, but for those who are sick or in trouble as well, the Red Cross is without a doubt the greatest relief organization in the world today. It is so far-reaching in its scope that it does not stop with the soldiers, but includes also in its min- istrations indirect victims of war — the widows, the fatherless, the aged left desolate, the homeless, and the refugees of every age and.condition of life. Heretofore some people have had a wrong impres- sion of this great agency, thinking that it minis- tered merely to unfortunate men on the battle field. This is far from being the case, however. It holds out its hand of hope and help to many other thou- sands who would languish in hopelessness and de- spair but for its kindly succor. To be sure in war time the most critical point of all is the battle line. And the most important man Is the soldier. He must be kept fit to do his work or all else fails. Therefore naturally enough 36 The Red Cross 37 the Red Cross, or Croix Rouge as it is called in France, focuses Its attention mainly on the fighting men. The problem of caring for the wounded in the present conflict is so different and so much more vast than in any previous war that a com- parison is well nigh impossible. Back in our Civil War there was no Red Cross organization and the facilities for attending to the needs of the in- jured and the sick were extremely limited to say the least. Consequently while we did the best we could, hours and days often passed, before a wounded soldier could be attended to, and many deaths ensued which would be avoided today. In fact the mortality percentage was immensely higher than in the present war. This sounds almost un- believable in view of the many fearful devices which the Germans have used and the constant reports of awful carnage. But when we base our death estimates upon the actual number of men engaged the face of the situation changes very ma- terially. We must remember that even in time of peace in civil life among twenty million men there will be thousands of deaths each day and the chances of saving a sick or wounded man are far greater today than ever before. The marvelous Red Cross institution has 38 ''Back From Hell'' sought out the best physicians and surgeons of every country and the most efficient nurses as aids; and by research investigation and experiments has brought down to the finest point that science has yet attained the matter of saving life. Any person who has had anything whatever to do with this great agency will testify to its marvelous skill and efficiency. Moreover, aside from its merely utiUtarian aspect, there goes with the Red Cross Angel in Europe that sentimental sweetness and that deli- cate touch which is so treasured by the heart of every soldier. It Is the beginning, by the greatest Mother in the world of the fulfillment of the prophecy of Jesus, *' I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me ; I was in prison, and ye came unto me ; verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my breth- ren, even these least, ye did it unto me." In this way real religion Is practiced in the trenches. In this way Is that new Christianity taking shape In Europe which Is to be the religion of the future In America. Another of the great movements for the uplift Copyright, Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. AN AMERICAN WOMAN CARING FOR A LITTLE WOUNDED FRENCH CHILD. The Red Cross 39 and welfare of the soldiers is the Y. M.C. A. It has long been recognized that there are many strong and peculiar temptations in the life of a sol- dier which do not come to people in the ordinary walks of life. The first of these is the temptation to homesickness. With armies from all over the world concentrated in France, and with millions of boys for the first time in their lives separated from their old associates and environments and set down in the midst of a new atmosphere among people of a foreign tongue and different habits and modes of living, it would be strange, Indeed, if they did not have a longing for home, old acquaintances, and familiar faces. Companionship and sympathy are the things they need above all else. Confiden- tial relations between themselves and those whom they can call friends is worth everything, and this is exactly what the Y. M. C. A. establishes. It counteracts, If not entirely in large part at any rate, the tendency toward homesickness. In a land which Is strange, where there are no acquaintances and no home atmosphere, the Y. M. C. A. secre- taries and the Y. M. C. A. huts furnish the only touch of home that the soldier has. Here he comes when tired and beaten and spent with war; here his footsteps turn when his soul longs for an 40 ''Back From Heir association which money cannot buy. Here he finds exactly what he needs, namely other boys who are lonely too and who are seeking the same satisfaction that he wants. In the hut he first finds the secretary. The man who has charge of the building is there to be used in any way he is needed. He is not there to push religion on to homesick soldiers. Above all things, remember that the secretary is a failure who Is continually trying to force his religion down the throats of the men and boys who want good fellow- ship. After gaining the friendship and respect of a man and his confidence it is not unlikely that the influence of a secretary will exert itself in a reli- gious manner; but even then it will be indirectly, unless and until there is some definite evidence from the man himself that he is interested and wants it. In other words the Y. M. C. A. as such, is not a revival meeting whose object is to impress the weight of men's sins upon them when that weight presses heavily enough anyway; but rather it is a place of human feelings and homelike atmosphere. A boy comes in and finds writing paper for a let- ter to his mother. In one corner at the top is the Red Triangle, emblem of body, mind, and spirit; The Red Cross 41 and in the other corner are the words : " With the Colors." When the letter is written, stamps can be had in the building and the letter is mailed there. The boys have different kinds of games to play and good books to read so that with the amusement and comradeship they can also get some mental benefit. When a man comes in from the trenches dirty and fatigued and about disgusted, there is nothing else in the whole makeup of the war-organization which will do what this institu- tion does. The Knights of Columbus contribute quite as freely to the comfort of the soldiers, and I do not believe there is a boy on the Western front who would tolerate a word against either of them. It strikes me that the religion of the Red Cross type — a type which includes the Y. M. C. A. and the Knights of Columbus — is the kind which the Mas- ter exemplified in His life and the kind which he intended for us. I feel that it is a far truer and higher form of religion than many of the brands that are being peddled about the world today, and I hope when the war is over, that the whole world may adopt it. CHAPTER VIII AT THE stations these days we found num- . bers of poilus who were "done In" by the German explosive bullets, many of them breathing their last. Poor devils, writhing In pain and agony ! It was bad enough to have their flesh penetrated by the capsule of lead and steel, but to have added to it the excruciating torture of having the bullet explode or expand after It got inside, was fiendish. But such was the German^s Idea of "military necessity." They had thrust aside every consider- ation of humanity, and every ideal of morality, and were employing ruthless and frightful methods to gain their military goal, which as they said "must be attained at all costs." And cost it did. It cost innocent life and untold agony. It was daily costing conscience and character. It was costing Germany that standing among the nations which is so necessary to the future, and she 42 When France Was First ''Gassed'' 43 was sacrificing her national honor for transitory dreams of power and wealth. The Germans had employed the most fearful implements that the genius of their fertile brains could devise. Liquid fire which seared the flesh, and electric currents which burned most dreadfully, were among the lighter forms of their torturous war- fare. The poison gases capped the climax. One afternoon, at the second battle of Ypres, they let loose this demon of the devil. From a distance of two miles the ambulance men had been watching the engagement, waiting for the signal to come forward to transport the wounded men. The field glasses betrayed every movement on the battle line. Suddenly, and without any apparent cause, the Allied lines seemed to break, and the fields were alive with running figures. Astonishment took hold of the spectators. The impossible had happened, and the French Army was In wild retreat. Figures were seen tottering and stumbling across the meadow, soldiers were reeling to and 44 ''Back From Hell'' fro, staggering like drunken men. Falling down upon the ground, waving their arms frantically, they kicked their legs in the air, agonized and groaning. Some of them came into the Red Cross dressing station, coughing, choking, and strangling. Their faces were green and their chests were heaving. Between gasps, they related an incredi- ble tale. The Germans had opened up a bombardment of our trenches with some new, but hellish, weapon. A greenish, gray gas had appeared above them, and hung low, instead of rising. It seemed to be heavier than air, and soon it made its way down into the trenches, choking our men and throwing them into a state of terror. They tried to fan it away with their blankets. But no use, it only spread the gas, which got into their throats and lungs and tortured them beyond all description. *' God knows we will fight like men," they said, "but to be smothered like rats is different. No human being could endure such suffocation. God never meant a man to breathe that stuff and we'll make those hell-hounds pay for it." But hundreds of poor poilus had already "gone West," and those who escaped were in such a con- When France Was First ''Gassed" 45 ditlon of permanent disability and weakness that there was no danger of their making the Germans pay. Many Canadians, too, brave fellows, died that day, but on that day also they became immor- tal. The stretcher bearers had seen it all, and now upon the signal, plunged into the work of lifting the sufferers into the ambulances and carrying them back to be treated and cared for. For days this thing endured, until at last the Allies devised a gas mask or respirator which completely nullified the effects of the deadly chlorine, but they paid an awful price before they got it. It is a very simple device, consisting of a long cap of light canvas or similar material, soaked in a chemical solution which absorbs or neutralizes the poison of the gases. The cap has large eye holes with glass windows. The air from the lungs is expelled through a tube which has an outward opening valve, so that you must breathe In through the treated gauze. One's coat Is buttoned tightly around the lower end of this cap or " smoke hel- met," so that no gas can enter from below. It Is put on In twenty seconds and can withstand five hours of the poison gas. Poison gas! Had the nation of Kultur de- 46 ''Back From Hell'' scended to such fiendish methods of torture ? Yes, and to worse ones. It angered me. I had already pulled off my frock coat. I now shed my vest also. I was in process of preparation for the supreme battle — the moral struggle — to decide when a man's a man; to determine what attitude and in- ward action I should take in regard to this kind of thing. I could see that I must settle that problem sooner or later. CHAPTER IX WHEN JACQUES " WENT WEST" ONE of the most pathetic of the personal ex- periences which I had while I was in the service was in my association with a young poilu of about nineteen. I had become well acquainted with the lad and we had many an interesting talk together, he speak- ing in his inimitable French manner and I respond- ing in my butchered-up attempt at that language. One day, however, after we had been speaking of how we were going to get the Germans, Jacques must have become a little careless, and when he went up to his fire step, raised his head a little too high, for he received an ugly skull wound. Some time afterwards I was by his side and, in a husky whisper, he told me he was seriously wounded. He asked me to bring him a pencil, and said he was afraid he was "done in." He then fumbled clumsily about in the pocket of his grand- tunic, or great coat, until he found a piece of paper. It was in reality a piece of cardboard on which 47 48 ''Back From Heir was a photograph of himself taken with his mother some years before. It was old, faded, and dis- colored, and on the back of It he wrote a message which ran something like this : Dear Mother — It has been some time since I heard from you. You doubtless know that father and both brothers have been killed in the trenches some time ago. Now I am wounded also, and I may not be able to come to you, as I expected to do next week. But, Mother dear, even if I do not get to see you, don't feel badly anyway because youVe given all for La Belle France, and I may see you some time — over there — beyond the range. — Lovingly, Jacques. Personally I had thought and hoped that his wound was not so serious and It would not be neces- sary for me to deliver the message to his mother. But he knew better than I. And three days later worse came to worst and poor Jacques "went West." The tragic duty of taking his body back to his lonely mother, somewhere in France, de- volved upon me. I also handed her his message, but I could not remain. Her grief was too deep. I fairly ran away from that house. But that mother's eyes penetrated my soul for days and weeks, and my thoughts, try as I might, could not get away from her lot. In about three weeks I felt a strong pull and I made my way back When Jacques "Went West'' 49 to her little humble home to see if I could in any way lighten her burden a bit, or perhaps say some word to bring just a little comfort or assuage her heart's grief. When I rapped on the door and she answered and saw who I was, she fairly beamed with pleasure and threw her arms about my neck exclaiming, " Mr. Benson, I am so glad you have come," and then rushing over to the dresser drawer she brought out that worn and faded photograph with her son's message on the back, and as she showed it to me she exclaimed: "I am going to keep it till I die I It's not for the value of the pic- ture, but that message interprets the heart of my boy to me. It tells me that he loves me, and, Mr. Benson, do you know, I wish I might have an- other husband and three more boys to go and fight for La Belle France I " That's an example of heroism and patriotism for America I And after that, for several weeks, that little loyal French mother, now alone in the world, sent me regularly some cakes and delicacies, with the message that as she did not have any of her own now to care for, she must try to do her best to help those who were helping France to win the battle for liberty. 50 ''Back From Hell'' Poor Jacques had " gone West." And she need not send him any more clothes or food, but Jacques and his two brothers and his father too, have thrown their lives into the scale, and have added just so many more names to that honor roll, which already is large, of patriots of France. They loved their country. Every man, woman, and child over there does likewise, and France will honor them all eternally. I pray God's blessing on Jacques' mother now. CHAPTER X OFTEN in the long, long hours of the mid- night during that period I brooded over the situation. Frequently the wheels of my thought would turn swiftly, and cause me to reflect upon that life in the terrible trenches; in those uncanny and frightful sewers, dug in the ground, out there in No Man's Land, and, it sometimes seemed, in no God's land, where the guns bark, and the red fire leaps, and the shrapnel hisses, and the howitzers rip and snort in the daytime, and where glassy-eyed rats and vermin sneak and glide, spying upon the fatigued soldier In the night time, ready to finish up the work which the explosive may not quite have ended. Out there, in those animal burrows, surrounded by mud and blood and bacterial mold, where, week after week, the poor, plucky poilus existed. It could not be called living, and month after month re- mained in the weird, grim business of killing their unseen opponents by machinery. 52 ''Back From Heir I can picture them now lying upon that bank of dirt, some two feet high and, eighteen inches wide — the fire step, they call it — which runs along the front side of the trench, six feet in the ground and three or four feet wide, with nothing overhead, or nothing but branches of trees covered with dust and mud. As I write I can see the entire spectacle : How those men stuck out their rifles through the open- ings left for them and, at the given signal, fired, never knowing whether they hit and killed their objects. But those bullets went home, all right. The list of wounded on either side, at the end of the week or the end of the month, told more tragically than any individual report could tell that those bullets went home. And day after day, and week after week, every three minutes, or every four minutes, those men raised their smoking, reeking tubes of death, and let fly the fatal messengers. And night after night they had to lie upon that bench bed of dirt and indulge in disturbed sleep, or else gaze out upon that knotted, gnarled mass of barbed-wire entanglements in front of the trenches, as it glistened in the moonlight ; that ''Trench Nightmare'' 53 barrier, which, unlike the barbed wire that civil- ized man — and civilized beast — is accustomed to, has barbs upon it, not one but four inches in length, to rend and tear and catch the flesh of man, and hold him wriggling, writhing and squirming as he tries to charge the enemy, just long enough to give that enemy the chance, from his hiding place over yonder under the ground, to shoot him full of bullet holes. God, what a nightmare it is I And when an as- sault was ordered and they charged down the alley- ways between the sections of barbed-wire en- tanglement, they found themselves confronted by storms of bullets from those wicked machine guns, each one of which speaks at a rate of 450 to 3,000 times per minute. In order to have even a gambler's chance of cap- turing the enemy's trench, therefore, sometimes it became necessary to abandon the open alleyways and charge right across and "over the top" of those awful masses of barbed wire. This was almost certain death for those of the first ranks. Other lines of men following close upon the first might also be mowed down as well, as they were caught upon the wire, but after a while all the wire is covered up, and all the space is filled between the 54 ''Back From Hell'' top of It, waist high, and the earth, with soldiers* bodies, a veritable foundation of human flesh, upon which the following waves of men usually rushed over successfully without becoming entangled. If fortune was with them, they had some pos- sibility of taking the trench of the enemy. If they did, what next ? The enemy, or what was left of him, retreated through communicating trenches to others in the rear, of which there are many, planted a stick of dynamite after him, to blow up his retreat, and found himself. In a few moments, a hundred yards back, and intrenched just as solidly as he was be- fore. Perhaps even more solidly, because he had now the men who escaped from the front line trench in addition to the same number In the second line, which now became the first. Such is war today. And, because of this method of warfare, the death list Is a hundredfol4 more frightful, and so along that battle line In France, three hundred and fifty miles in length, the weekly toll of human life staggers all conception. The contemplation of It saddens the soul. Nothing but the vision of Liberty and Right triumphant can ever compen- sate for the slaughtered loved ones. ''Trench Nightmare'' 55 The piles of dead and wounded men, bleeding, groaning masses of human pulp, rotting flesh and decaying bones, carry disease and fever to ambu- lance rescue workers and all. These are the black silhouettes which go to make up that grim and gloomy picture, that nightmare of the trenches. These, of course, are the things one sees in his dark and somber moments. But it is not all like this. CHAPTER XI CALM BEFORE A STORM SECTION '' Y," to which I had been attached, was about this time transferred to a point much farther east and south. They were a jolly bunch of good fellows and always had a sociable time together. As a rule the best of feeling existed between all of the members but I remember one occasion on which the tranquillity of the party came perilously near being upset, temporarily at least. One of the boys was of a rather argumenta- tive turn of mind and would often deny the state- ments of the other boys apparently just for the sake of controversy. I think he believed that matching wits and defending one's position were wholesome mental exercises. I will not mention his name as there is no animosity whatever between us, but I will say that he went later into the diplo- matic service of our country. He had been a kind of soldier of fortune and without a doubt had knocked about the world a lot and seen a number of things. In his time he had been to nearly all 56 I Calm Before a Storm 57 the countries of the globe and had been In some colleges and universities. On this particular evening we were sitting around the tables at our quarters, each fellow tell- ing of some exploit of his previous life, and he had related some strange experiences of his travels. It happened that the night before, when I had made the statement that I once crossed the Atlan- tic on the Lucania In six days he had flatly con- tradicted me, saying that the Lucania was a much slower boat. It Irritated me to have him con- tradict me in front of aU, the boys concerning a thing which I knew I had done. But I let It pass. This night, however. It was different. Heaven only knows how we drifted upon the subject but I happened to make the remark that students at Princeton were compelled to sign a pledge that they would not belong to any secret fraternity while they were members of the school. My friend promptly g^^eeted this remark with the astounding statement, " They do not ! " I said, " Well, I went to school there and I was required to sign the paper, and so I ought to know." He still persisted in his denial, placing me in a rather embarrassing position before the other fellows. I got crusty. I said, "Look here, son, you denied a statement 58 ''Back From Heir that I made last night about a fact of my own life, and now you have done it again. You had better tend to your own business hereafter, and stop try- ing to make me out a liar, or there is going to be trouble." He said, " What will you do about it?" I replied pugnaciously, '^I'll flatten your face, that's what I'll do about it." Of course, he said something about ''starting in" whenever I got ready, and so forth, and the argument died down a bit. A moment later when I stepped outside, some of the boys asked me if I knew who I had been talking to. I said, " No, but I'll do what I said I would, anyway. Who is he?" They said, "That fellow is an ex-prize fighter and at one time was in the ring with th^ greatest pugilist in England." "Is that right ?^JW said in astonishment, "Well, I don't think I'jSslap his face at all, and he can deny any statem'fent I make with perfect impunity." We all had a laugh and in his presence thereafter I was very meek and lamblike. I pulled my horns way in. After all he was a good fellow and from this moment we got along on the best of terms. We had a good many days of calm about that time and not very much to do but wait for the storm and action of war. Sometimes, to be sure, we would I Calm Before a Storm 59 be called out on long trips to the front to bring in some wounded officer or some dignitary but our ordinary duties were to carry from the station to the several hospitals the wounded who came in on frequent trains. The French officials, however, seemed to appreciate our work even though it was quite humble. French courtesy and gratitude are such wonderful things that the officers gracefully accepted the work and praised It anyway, though I have often thought that generosity must have blinded them to the many deficiencies and short- comings. I sometimes wonder if they do not smile Inwardly and, when they are alone, laugh out- wardly at the service which we thought quite credit- ably done. Americans have a way of thinking that their work is superior even though It may not be looked upon as such by others. At any rate ours was done In the best spirit of good will and It was certainly accepted in a similar spirit. For a while things were comparatively quiet. Then, however, all of a sudden attacks were begun, and the boys had all they could do making trips back and forth carrying the wounded from the front to the hospitals. CHAPTER XII IF AN AMBULANCE COULD SPEAK IN SILENT moments of rest between trips I occasionally would reflect, "If an ambulance could only talk, what tales it would tell I" No doubt, sometimes it would tell of the pleasant occasions and of merry conversation, and then again it would turn to the tragic and the sad. Now it would be of victorious moments, and again it would be of defeat and discouragement. Occa- sionally It would be gay and glad, and speak of heroism if some slightly wounded man was riding in it and talk joyfully of the hope and gladness in his heart. But far more frequently, I fear, it would tell of blood and pain and hate and death. As an example of ambulance tales there is one little incident which I feel I must relate. After the battle at B , where the French Colonials of Africa composed the main force of the Allies' soldiers, we had hundreds of these dark-hued men to transport In our ambulances. The slaugh- 60 >H « If an Ambulance Could Speak 6i ter had been terrific, and the wounded men were extraordinarily mutilated. Two of these Turcos had been loaded into our ambulance and we were waiting for a third passenger, when a German prisoner was brought out on a stretcher. He was very seriously injured, and lay there quiet and pale. One of the Turcos was badly wounded, and the other one not so seriously. We received orders to carry the German wounded prisoner to the same hospital as the Turcos, and so we lifted his stretcher and slid it into the upper story of the ambulance, a suspended arrangement which enabled us to carry three men while otherwise we could have carried only two. There was a considerable distance to be traversed between the station where we received our men and the hospital to which we were told to take them. After we had been on the road for some minutes and were driving along at a fairly good rate, there was a violent vibration and shak- ing of the car. We switched off the gasoline and threw in the brakes and, bringing the car to a stop, jumped down and ran around to the rear to see what was wrong. The first thing I saw was a stream of blood trickling down from the stretcher above and soak- 62 ''Back From Hell'' ing the uniform of one of the Turcos in the bot- tom of the car. I then saw that this fellow had his knife in his hand, and I excitedly asked what was the matter. The other Turco, who was not so badly wounded explained that his partner did not like the idea of having a live German riding in the same car with him, and so he had slipped out his trench knife and with what strength he had left, had rallied and raised himself up enough to thrust it upward through the stretcher and into the back of the German above. There was a smile of satisfaction on the black face of the Turco, who had fallen back exhausted. We unbuckled the straps which held the German's stretcher and slipped it out, but he was already dead. While we were examining him the two Turcos said a few words to each other, and when we were about to start forward they both refused to ride with a dead German in the car. Before we were done with him we had to carry the corpse to the side of the road and bury it there. We folded up the stretcher, put it back into the car, and again set out. When we got to the hospital several miles farther on, we lifted out the stretchers, but one of the Turcos was dead. He had used up all his strength and life in the If an Ambulance Could Speak 63 great effort he had put forth to kill the hated German, but the other one said he was very con- tented, and had died willingly and gladly. Such little Incidents of different kinds are con- tinually happening, where millions of men from all classes of society and with different ideals are thrown together, and I am sure any ambulance on the Western front could tell many a thrilling tale if it but had the power. Perhaps it is better that It can not speak. CHAPTER XIII A TICKLISH ATTACK AT ONE time I was called upon to go to the city of A on a particular errand. While there I had a unique experience. I had gotten a permit allowing me to remain there over night, which, speaking accurately, allowed me to leave next day. You have very little difficulty " stay- ing" in a place as long as you stay, but if you do not have a permit you will have your troubles when you try to " leave " next day. All permits in Europe today read "allowed to leave '' such and such a place on such and such a day for another place. Well, I had gotten my permit to leave A on the following day, the 24th. I wandered around over the city viewing the destroyed por- tions and making the acquaintance of some women- folk who ran a restaurant, and at last I found a hotel and went to sleep. The next morning after breakfast I left my hotel and made my way up the main street until I came to a narrow alley-like «4 A Ticklish Attack 65 street with tall buildings on either side, into which I entered, bent on investigation. I had not gone more than a hundred feet down this street when I distinctly heard a boom! I did not pay much attention to it, for I thought it was likely some blasting in the vicinity, and presently I heard another boom! I then looked about and saw a man ahead of me leading a horse hitched to a high-wheeled vegetable cart, heavily loaded. He was trying to run and drag along with him, horse, cart, and all. Everybody was running and — well — I guess I ran, tool I don't know just why I did — I know I wasn't scared I But some way a feeling inside of me told me I would rather be in some other place than there. If I was to be killed, I thought It would be more consolation to the folks at home if my body wasn't loaded down with hundreds of tons of brick and mortar. For nine and one-fifth seconds I beat the world's record. Boom! Boom! Boom! When I got out into the main street again and turned to get my breath, along with a good many other runners, I saw three airplanes dropping bombs down on the city alt the rate of a hundred in a little over three minutes, and with the deto- 66 "Back From Heir nations and the reverberations of the anti-aircraft guns which were being fired, added to the explo- sions of the bombs themselves, it just seemed as though the entire atmosphere was raining bombs. And any way I went, a whole flock of the bombs followed me. I learned later that an important factory was destroyed and that forty people were killed. If they had told me forty thousand, I think I should have believed it. The feeling on such an occasion as this is indescribable. It is not like any ordinary bombardment when you know the enemy is letting you have it from only one side — the front. The sense of utter help- lessness when you feel he is all about you and peppering you from a thousand angles isn't comfortable to say the least. That afternoon I strolled about the city taking in the ruined dis- tricts, and that evening I set off for my post, com- plying with the provisions of my pass. If I hadn't left then, I couldn't have gone at all without a lot of difficulty. CHAPTER XIV THE DEATH OF A COMRADE ON A certain Friday afternoon at M the day had been ominously quiet. Several of the boys had gone out for a little stroll and lunch before retiring, and a few were hanging around the cars. The sun was sinking low in the west and appeared to be loath to drop out of sight. An orderly from the hospital came rushing over out of breath and told us to come quickly. Two boys went with me immediately and as we entered a darkened room we saw our old friend, Gaston, apparently "passing out." Some of us had been pretty well acquainted with him. We went in noiselessly but as soon as we stepped over the threshold he opened his eyes a little wider and smiled faintly. He looked so peaceful that we hated to disturb him. Speaking In a kind of hoarse whisper he said, " I sent for you. I am glad you came. You boys have been good to me and I wanted to thank you. I am lonesome, and I want my mother, too. Pneumonia has set in, but I'll 67 68 ''Back From Heir be better — in — a — couple — of — days. How — is — the — battle — go ?" Here his eyes closed and he seemed to sleep. Yes, I can truth- fully say he did find sleep. The sleep which knows no waking. But the room was so quiet and he looked so calm and happy as he lay there that it did not seem like death. It only seemed as if some white angel had come down and touched his tired, feeble body and transfigured him. Poor fellow, he had been gassed at the battle of Ypres, and we had met him at the hospital. Several times we had had good visits with him and neither he nor we sur- mised that his time was so near at hand. He had not appeared to be in pain and he always said he did not suffer. And he was so hopeful to the end. His life story had been a sad one. Married when very young he had been a farmer on one of those little places so common and yet so unique in France. Things had not gone well with him and his farm had almost been forfeited. He had a family of children but his little twin boy and girl had been killed in a runaway and the shock had prostrated his wife. She had been an invalid ever since. Years had gone by and then when the Ger- mans came, a shell had struck his home killing his wife in her bed and injuring his other boy. A few The Death of a Comrade 69 hours later the Germans entered the place, driving him out of his home, taking his farm. He had barely time to escape being captured, which would have meant service for Germany instead of for France. His heart had been saddened but he was glad to get away and go into the French Army and he had gone back to fight the Germans. He had gone through several battles without being injured but the gas caught him at Ypres. He lived sadly but died peacefully, and we were requested to be present at the last little service over what was earthly of him. They put him In a plain casket covered with a French flag and the procession started down toward the little church. At this time the Germans were bombing the dis- trict quite regularly. On reaching the graveyard we could see dozens of tombstones demolished, and one grave had thrown its occupant to the sur- face of the earth and it lay there a crumbling, rot- ting corpse — yet smiling, or at least so it seemed as the pearly white teeth were exposed to full view — smiling in derision, beyond the power of the German and his Kultur. Here Gaston was laid to rest. But war furnishes strange contradictions. It is a continuous panorama of lights and shadows ; of 70 ''Back From Heir beauties and hideous monstrosities. It furnishes some of the truest and bravest acts that history records and It produces some of the foulest deeds of crime. Experiences are so varied. Some eve- nings, while loafing about the headquarters sitting at little tables writing letters or talking peacefully there was nothing whatever to remind us of battle. Beautiful parks were in front of us, fountains and flowers, and all was quiet and serene. Then a call would come and within an hour or two we would be enveloped in the harsh stern facts of war. After witnessing the death of our comrade and seeing the shattered cemetery and the decaying corpse sticking out of the grave, all in one day, I felt a bit weird myself. A man's nervous consti- tution isn't made of Iron and even after seeing many morbid spectacles, unless he has become hopelessly hardened, he will still be affected by tragic experiences and brutal scenes. I didn't rest any too well that night after those creepy sensa- tions and the next day my nerves were rather shaky. The grim spectacle which was now to greet my eyes did not tend to quiet me either. I was sent on quite a long trip to bring in two wounded men of the Colonials, one French, the other British. These two men, Turko and Senega- The Death of a Comrade 71 lese, proverbially speaking, were as black as the ace of spades. Neither of them was very dan- gerously wounded and both were talking cheer- fully. One had a leg broken and the other had been caught In the shoulder. As we slid out the stretcher of the first man and placed it on the ground, his knapsack fell off and to my astonish- ment out rolled the head of a German soldier! The African spoke of it with great satisfaction, turning it over In his hands and boasting of his good fortune, as, I suppose the primitive Ameri- can Indian boasted of the scalp dangling from his belt. The other fellow, not to be outdone, ran his hand Into the cavernous depths of his pocket and brought forth a human eye. It was a ghastly look- ing object. It seemed to me to be penetrating the soul of the Colonial, but he just laughed and en- joyed very much my discomfiture. One evening as I was about to "hit the hay," two wounded men came In on foot from the front. They were so weak they could drag themselves along no farther. I was requested to take them to a hospital which was some distance from the place. I got my car ready and saw that everything was right. The night was dark as pitch. The men were put on a brancard, or stretcher, and 72 ''Back From Hell'' placed in the ambulance. We were making our way toward our destination when we came to a piece of road running through a cut in the hilly country. The road was rather narrow, just allow- ing enough room for two vehicles to pass. On either side was a great bank fifteen or more feet high. Right in the main part of the cut was a mud- hole perhaps a hundred feet or more in length. When we came to this place we were suspicious of it and stopped for a few moments to consider be- fore making the plunge. As we did so a line of motor lorries and soldiers came down from the other direction. I was afraid it was too daring an enterprise but two or three of the trucks got safely through and my fears began to be allayed. A truck now came loaded high with ammunition cases and just behind it two men on horses. Into the mudhole plowed the ammunition truck, and the riders followed close behind. The mud was getting deeper and deeper and the wheels began to clog. An awful tattoo sounded as the driver threw In the low speed and tried to pull ahead. The boys on horseback turned out to go around the truck, which was evidently sticking. As they did so Its rear wheel struck a rock and broke short off, up- setting the entire load. In falling down, the shell The Death of a Comrade 73 cases frightened the horses. One of them reared and fell, throwing the rider right under the over- turning truck. He was fatally crushed. The soldiers coming up extricated the poor fellow from the wreckage and brought him to our ambulance. I quickly saw that he was "done in." tte could talk a little, and he said that It was foolish to at- tempt to ride around the truck in the narrow space, especially where the mud was so deep. We doubled back part way on our journey and made a detour. But the mangled man died before we reached our destination. We delivered the other wounded and made the return trip with little difficulty. Later on many soldiers came In on foot over that piece of road but they said that the other trucks had all turned back and gone around an- other way. They did not dare to brave that awful mudhole. These soldiers were dirty, worn and battle-weary for they had walked from the trenches for miles through the mud, and they plainly showed It too. There was not a spot as big as your hand on them that was not dyed with that cream-colored mud and their faces were speckled with it so that they looked almost as If they had had the smallpox. As one of them turned to leave me, he uttered the words, " Some mud." CHAPTER XV ON AN OLD BATTLE GROUND IN A certain section of the country one could see from a prominent hill across some cities and onward to the edge of the German lines. The region has been much fought over and in fact Is an old battle ground. One terribly drizzly day it be- came necessary to go over to a nearby village to evacuate a hospital. Wild tales had come in about the " strafing" which the town was being subjected to and we were immediately ordered to hurry to the spot. It was said that the Germans were shell- ing the place with "H. E.'s" from a distance of about twenty miles, with shells of fifteen and seven- teen inch caliber. If there is anything which will put the fear of God in a man It is the explosion of one of those "big fellows." From the frightened faces of the men who had just come from there, I think the whole town had suddenly become a God-fearing people — since six o'clock that morning. They told us that hundreds of people had been killed and that many buildings 74 On an Old Battle Ground 75 were in flames. Well, we went to our car and tried to start it but it would not crank. We tried every- thing we could think of but it was of no use. The chilly night evidently had cooled the engine too much. We heated a kettle of water and fed it into the radiator and poured it over the carburetor. This helped some, for she sputtered a little but the engine did not take enough gas to turn over. Fin- ally after I had taken out all the spark plugs and given them a good cleaning with gasoline, I cranked up and she started off with a bang. All this time the men who had come in from the burning village had been urging us to hurry. Their impatience added so much to our nervousness that it made us almost angry. Any man who has motor trouble will appreciate it. At last we started the ambulance. Just as we were going out the gate — whish I We picked up a tack and our rear tire was flat! It took me about eight minutes to take off that tire and put a new one on, but it seemed like hours. The men who had been telling us how to do it now chmbed into the back of the car and went along with us. We had been on the road only a few minutes when we met a man coming down the road pulling behind him a two-wheeled cart. He raised his hands as a signal to stop. We did. 76 ''Back From Heir' Then, with tears streaming down his face, he be- gan to talk to us, pointing to the cart which was covered with old rag carpet. At last he lifted the carpet and showed us the lifeless body of a woman, of his wife I The body was horribly mutilated, the head and right arm were entirely gone and the left hand was blown to shreds. As the poor man looked at the corpse he became fairly frantic, screaming and moaning. We tried to say some words of sympathy but the only answer he could give us was, O, ma femme! ma femme! We climbed out of the car and while we stood there an old man and a little girl came trudging up — the daughter and father of the woman. They, too, began to cry. Suddenly the old man reeled and fell to the ground. When we picked him up he was dead. He had died of a broken heart. We lifted his body into the cart beside that of his daughter. I never felt so heartless in my life as I did when we left that man and little girl to stumble on with their burden of sorrow. When we reached the village, the situation con- firmed all the rumors. The shelling had stopped, but the burning of the buildings was almost as bad. We drove down the street to the public square and just then over on the opposite corner a large On an Old Battle Ground 7J caliber shell came crashing In, striking a school building, exploding and producing a fearful effect. Twelve children were killed and the entire school- house destroyed. The force of these large projec- tiles Is almost Inconceivable. Very often a single one will completely annihilate an entire building, reducing It to a pile of bricks, dust and kindling wood. I have seen one of them practically de- molish two houses separated by several feet. Well, at last we got to the hospital. Shells had burst around it but none had struck It as yet, and the few people who were there were badly fright- ened. We carried a load of wounded back to the base and with the help of the other ambulances after several hours we evacuated the hospital. Be- fore the work was finished, however, the Germans had shelled the road and It became a difficult mat- ter to pick our way along and dodge the craters. A shell burst just In front of one of the cars and covered the driver with fine pieces of stone and dust. As evening drew on the great volcano-like explosions from the guns in the distance lighted up the sky and made an inspiring and awful spectacle. As the guns belched forth their messages of death one might have thought he was In the midst of a 78 ''Back From Hell'' hundred powder factories which were exploding periodically. There was something fascinating about It all, yet frightful, but as I reflected on the capacity for ruin and death which those engines of war possessed, I thought I would prefer to be farther away. The firing ceased as night came on and the atmosphere cleared up. A wonderful red moon rose In the heavens above those awful scenes and for some brief hours brought a feeling of peace and calm. CHAPTER XVI THE VERDUN ATTACK — LIFE AND DEATH MULTITUDES of people without doubt would like to know what an attack is like, consequently I will try to describe one in the region of Verdun. After serving six hours* notice on the city the Germans* big guns opened up, with large caliber shells at short intervals. Frightened by the fearful bombardment the civil population in multitudes swarmed out of the town and took to the country roads. Thousands of trucks and numbers of guns and soldiers advanc- ing towards the enemy passed these fleeing people. Many camions slipped off the road, turned over, smashed, and were left there, but the procession moved on and on. Horses died and were left to rot on the roadside. Yet the procession bent on grim business never paused. The routes of travel were jammed with soldiers and the rumble and roar of the monster guns of the Teutons dinned into one's ears the message that the world was locked in a death struggle. 79 8q ''Back From Heir' Men and munitions are the only things that count in such an hour; and at Verdun in those perilous times so many thousands of noble men were wounded and cast aside that inconceivable numbers were required to take their places and fill the ranks. Such is the wonderful spirit of France that men always are ready to fill the gaps In the line. They go gladly and I believe they will sac- rifice thus until the very end. Peasants were passing by in haste, dragging two-wheeled push carts loaded with the baubles which they counted dear, but which in death are of little value. Coming and going, coming and go- ing, the two processions moved through the weary hours, and still on the horizon the mouths of Hell belched forth their smoke and fire, and across the field was heard the awful rumbling of the guns. Many different kinds of shells were used, produc- ing different effects which could be distinguished by the various colors of smoke emitted In explod- ing. They also filled the air with strange and nauseating odors, and the crumbling houses sent up enormous clouds of dust. Without warning out of the night came a bat- tery of guns with a clatter of horses' hoofs and clamor of wheels on the pavement, and in a few 52 -t='