Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 200, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 September 1918 — Marine Tells of His First Fight [ARTICLE]

Marine Tells of His First Fight

Paris.—He was a United States Marine. He hailed from Chicago, and I judged his age to be twenty-two or twenty-three. I' did not learn his name, but during the short* hour we spent together he poured out to me his personal Impressions of the fighting, In which he had taken a share, at Chateau Thierry. He naively apologized when he learned I was an American, saying; “Of course, when I’ve been In and out of the trenches a few times I expect It Will all grow s:ale, and I shan’t want to talk about it.” He was just a normal boy, and lie related his experiences and impressions without pose or boastfulness. “When we took over that part of the line we were told it was a quiet sector,” he said, “but it didn’t remain long quiet. We learned afterwards that at first the Germans thought we were British, our uniforms being somewhat alike, but when, they discovered that we were Yanks they began to get curious about .us. They were sure satisfied pretty quick.” Had Empty Feeling. “What were your own personal feelings the first time you went over the top?” I asked. “Well,” slowly, “I suppose I was frightened. I had a sickening, empty feeling somewhere inside me. Just before we were to start our captain said: ‘Now, boys, there’s no need to feel bad about it. These men over the

other side are feeling just as bad, in fact a mighty sight worse,’ I remember his words distinctly, because they were the last he said, except to give the command to start. We had to advance through a field of green wheat, soppy with dew, so that we got wet through and could hardly keep our feet on the slippery ground. Our captain and lieutenant were killed right at the start, and also the first sergeant. * “We had only the gunner sergeant left, and all around the men were falling, and the air w T as filled with the noise from bursting shells? cries of dying men, the groans of the wounded, the singing of bullets, and the clatter of the machine guns. ‘Tve never been what you’d call a praying chap, but I prayed hard then, and many times since.” After a moment I said: “Yes, and then?” “Well, we saw pretty, soon that if we didn’t hurry up and get to the wood there wouldn’t be any of'us left to take It —so we just hiked like —as if —well, as if it was an express train that we just had to catch or bust. And when*we got there it didn’t take us long to clear the Boche out. He w’ould go on firing until we were right on top of him with the bayonet and theqjie’d yell out ‘Kamerad.’

“Even in the midst of the fight I couldn’t help laughing out at’the man alongside of me. He. had seen his chum fall and came on just wild, and when he was going for one Getnfan the Boche yelled: ‘Kamerad, I’ve a wife and ten children in Berlin,’ and the marine said: ‘lf you went back to Berlin there’d be ten more children — to h with you,’ and rammed him with his bayonet.” “What happened after you cleared out the Hun?” I asked. “By that time we were reduced to about half our company, and were ordered to dig ourselves in. You should have seen me dig I “Men were falling' all around and two bullets went through my pack as I crouched as near the ground as possible digging like h . So I took my pack off and put it on the parapet to the side of me, and the Germans kept on popping at it. While I was digging every time I looked up to throw the dirt out I could see a flower moving to and fro in the wind just in front of me, and then once I glanced up JuSt in time to see that flower nipped off as if by an invisible hand and lie on the gound. Somehow that made me realize almost more than anything how near death was.”