Over There

Lost Battalion Site Update

2011-09-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

Well, as some of you may know, last week’s post about the destruction of the site where the Lost Battalion was surrounded for five days in October of 1918 has caused a bit of a stir. Within 24 hours after I posted the story, I was very fortunate to begin corresponding with Robert J. Laplander, who is the world’s foremost expert on the Lost Battalion, having written a massive 613-page volume entitled Finding the Lost Battalion: Beyond the Rumors, Myths, and Legends of America’s Famous WWI Epic. After getting his take on which portions of the battlefield have been destroyed and which are still intact, I asked Mr. Laplander to write a piece which I could share on this blog and he was kind enough to do so. The following is what he has to say about the recent activity at the Lost Battalion battle site:

Some of the bottom of the Charlevaux Ravine has been logged off. This means that many of the shell holes that were down there, as well as the few outpost holes from early in the event, are now gone. Although I have not seen the extent of the damage (outside of a few photos), it may mean that a couple of the sites where German machine gun nests were located might also have been taken out as well. However, I do not think the actual hillside where the Lost Battalion was trapped (the Pocket) has been affected. The hillside where the Pocket was located is separately owned from much of the land surrounding it. Statements said to have been made by the owner of the surrounding land are unsubstantiated. On last visit, and by further report since then, serious illegal digging for artifacts had been going on along the Pocket on the hillside, as well as gathering of unexploded ordinance. I can confirm that the spring that emanated from near the left flank of the Pocket has been dug out and a pipe driven into the hillside to create running water, which has flooded a section of the left flank, where a small camping trailer was moved in on a semi-permanent footing. This occurred prior to 2005 and was the beginning of the 'transformation' of the Pocket.
Logging along the Ravin d'Argonne extending from the 'Small Pocket' up to the Pocket in the Charlevaux Ravine have eradicated important positions and stretches of former trench line of the Giselher Stellung at the foot of Hill 205, as well as 'Turner's Ravine' and sections of the former narrow gauge rail bed along the bottom of the ravine. This is confirmed, as I saw this with my own eyes.
Fortunately, I and my team made a complete, detailed photo record of the Pocket and much of the important surrounding locations between 2002 and 2008 before any damage was done to the area, as well as gathering an extensive collection of period photos of the same area. Despite recent events, the Pocket can be remembered through the collection.
For the most complete story of the Lost Battalion, please see my book 'Finding the Lost Battalion: Beyond the Rumors, Myths and Legends of America's Famous WW1 Epic'. Available at Amazon.com, or my website at www.lulu.com/lostbattalion
Robert J. Laplander

Many thanks to Mr. Laplander for taking the time to share his expertise on this matter!

A Question For You, Gentle Readers

2011-09-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

First of all, let me apologize for the paucity of posts “over here” (pun intended). I recently completed a Civil War battle history that is being published next week and all of my time over the past year has been devoted to its completion.

That being said, I have certainly not lost the WWI “bug” that led me to create this weblog in the first place. With the exception of the post on the Lost Battalion site, there really hasn’t been much substantive posting on this website, so before I delve into my next project, I thought that I’d ask you all some questions. Since the stated purpose of the blog is to write about the AEF and the First World War in general that means that the possibilities for topics are endless.

With that in mind, what would you like to see more of on this blog?

What stories do you think have been languishing in obscurity that you would like to see brought to light?

Who are the unsung heroes that deserve biographies?

What regiment or division within the AEF deserves to have their story told?

What skirmish, incident, or battle needs the dust blown off of it for a new generation of WWI historians to examine?

Are there any preservation issues in the US or elsewhere (such as the Lost Battalion site) that are in danger of being lost or have been swallowed up by the passage of time?

What recent books need to be recommended or reviewed?

Do you think that Centennial of the war will be observed in the U.S. in any meaningful way?

As you can see, asking the questions is the easy part.

It’s answering them that will determine "the shape of things to come,” to quote President Wilson.

I look forward to your answers.

Lost Battalion Site Destroyed

2011-08-31T12:07:00.000-07:00

In 1921, L. C. McCollum wrote the following stanzas in a collection of poems he christened Rhymes of a Lost Battalion Doughboy:

At night, when all is quiet,

And I’m lying alone in bed,

There comes a vision of battlefields,

The fight, the maimed, and the dead.

Will I never forget that hell “Over There,”

And the tales the battlefields tell,

Of the price my “Buddies” paid with “their all,”

And the place in which they fell?

Illustration from Rhymes of a Lost Battalion Doughboy

Many of you are no doubt familiar with the ordeal of the famous “Lost Battalion” and the nightmare that they experienced in October of 1918. During the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, roughly 700 survivors of two battalions of the 307^th and 308^th Regiments of the 77^th Division were cut off and surrounded at a place called Charlevaux Mill. When help reached them five days later, they had endured intense combat, a tragic friendly fire incident, and a flamethrower attack, all with very little food and water. They would lose 500 casualties and four men would be issued the Medal of Honor. Dubbed, “The Lost Battalion” by American newspapers, McCollum would not be the only survivor who would struggle to come to terms with the trauma that he endured – Major Charles Whittlesey, who was in command and himself won the Medal of Honor – committed suicide in 1921.

For nearly 93 years, Americans have been able to travel overseas and visit the site where Whittlesey’s men fought and died. However, I recently saw on Facebook that the owner of the ground on which the Lost Battalion fought has leveled the site. The note states that, “The intent of the owner is unknown. However, a friend in France suggested that he was becoming increasingly frustrated / upset with the stream of pilgrims to the site.” The note further states that the owner was well within his rights, since the ground is private property, and that the ground south of the hill D66 is still preserved.

Location of former Lost Battalion foxholes. Courtesy Randy Gaulke.

Still, this news is very sad since we are now only three years away from the Centennial of the First World War.

It appears that the word “lost” has now taken on a more tragic and immediate meaning.

Spielberg WWI Epic to Hit Theaters This December

2011-06-29T07:18:00.000-07:00

In Honor of Elmer Holmes, 538th Engineer Battalion, AEF

2011-06-22T20:43:00.000-07:00

On Memorial Day, some of you may recall reading this tragic story about the rediscovery of an African American Doughboy’s final resting place.

To give a brief recap, this spring a Spotsylvania resident who commutes to the Pentagon via the local bus network happened to notice a military headstone in an overgrown area directly beneath the major road he passes over every day. After investigation, he found out that it was the grave of a black World War I veteran. The grave is located across the street from the church that the soldier belonged to and is sadly within spitting distance of the local trash dump.

The soldier that the grave belonged to was Pvt. Elmer Holmes of the 538^th Engineer Battalion. Holmes was a local farmer and veteran who was killed in an automobile accident on October 31, 1928 at the age of 38. Ten years before his death, Holmes found himself an engineer in the AEF, serving in France during the “war to end all wars.”

To give some background, the 538^th was a service battalion organized in May of 1918 at Camp Meade, Maryland. It moved overseas in August and was later converted into a Transport Corps unit in December of 1918 (after the Armistice had been signed). The 538^th belonged to an organization called the National Army, which was made up solely of men who had been drafted into military service. While we know next to nothing about what Holmes experienced in France, we can glean a little bit about what his daily life entailed by looking at what engineer troops did during the First World War.

While it is easy to focus only on those members of the AEF who served in combat roles, it is worth considering that engineer troops in WWI were responsible for the following: building roads (including 1,035 miles of railroad track) and hospitals, providing proper sewage drainage at camps and cantonments, constructing electric power plants, cutting down trees, maintaining and repairing their own equipment, digging trenches, putting up barbed wire (sometimes under enemy fire), making docks and building bridges and – if the situation called for it – picking up their rifles and fighting as infantry.

At the end of the war there were over 174,000 men serving as engineers in the AEF, and they received the highest praise from their commander, General John J. Pershing.

In my research I was unable to find anything pertaining to Holmes himself, but I did find the following from a man who served in the same unit. When asked to reflect on his service overseas, James Crawley of the 538^th said that he was as “patriotic as any man” but described his overseas experience as “deplorable.” He said that he “worked all the time [but] felt as if my country did not appreciate my service as a true American.” Although he continued to believe in “the principles for which we fought” he thought African Americans had “given all to gain for everyone except ourselves.”

Crawley’s words made me consider once again the very question that led me to do the research behind the exhibit Take Our Stand: The African American Military Experience in the Age of Jim Crow – why would young black men and women risk their lives for a country that so often failed to provide them with the basic rights promised to them in the Constitution?

In the case of Elmer Holmes, we may never know. Nonetheless, I felt compelled to look deeper into the location of his grave and what I found astounded me. The pictures below show the grave in its current condition, swallowed up by nature an abandoned. If you’re a Fredericksburg native, I cannot recommend that you go and see this grave, given that you will have to deal with crossing four lanes of traffic and negotiating a fairly steep incline. But let us all hope and pray that this final resting place of one of America’s forgotten wars will be neglected no longer.

As you look at these photos, keep in mind not only what it was like to serve “over there,” but also what it was like for the thousands of African American troops who served nobly and came home to a country that still didn’t quite feel like home.

Coming down the hill, the grave is invisible.

Britain's Last WWI Veteran Dies at the Age of 110

2011-05-04T20:36:00.001-07:00

http://www.perthnow.com.au/news/world-war-1-hero-claude-choules-our-oldest-man-to-turn-110/story-e6frg12c-1226050397048

Our Last Doughboy Passes On

2011-02-28T05:49:00.000-08:00

From The Washington Post:

In 1917 and 1918, close to 5 million Americans served in World War I, and Mr. Buckles, a cordial fellow of gentle humor, was the last known survivor. "I knew there'd be only one someday," he said a few years back. "I didn't think it would be me."

His daughter, Susannah Buckles Flanagan, said Mr. Buckles, a widower, died of natural causes on his West Virginia farm, where she had been caring for him.

Buckles' distant generation was the first to witness the awful toll of modern, mechanized warfare. As time thinned the ranks of those long-ago U.S. veterans, the nation hardly noticed them vanishing, until the roster dwindled to one ex-soldier, embraced in his final years by an appreciative public.

"Frank was a history book in and of himself, the kind you can't get at the library," said his friend, Muriel Sue Kerr. Having lived from the dawn of the 20th century, he seemed to never tire of sharing his and the country's old memories - of the First World War, of roaring prosperity and epic depression, and of a second, far more cataclysmic global conflict, which he barely survived.

Mr. Buckles, who was born by lantern light in a Missouri farmhouse, quit school at 16 and bluffed his way into the Army. As the nation flexed its full military might overseas for the first time, he joined 4.7 million Americans in uniform and was among 2 million U.S. troops shipped to France to vanquish the German kaiser.

Ninety years later, with available records showing that former corporal Buckles, serial No. 15577, had outlived all of his compatriots from World War I, the Department of Veterans Affairs declared him the last doughboy standing. He was soon answering fan mail and welcoming a multitude of inquisitive visitors to his rural home.

"I feel like an endangered species," he joked, well into his 11th decade. As a rear-echelon ambulance driver behind the trenches of the Western Front in 1918, he had been safe from the worst of the fighting. But "I saw the results," he would say.

He saw the world

With his death, researchers said, only two of the approximately 65 million people mobilized by the world's militaries during the Great War are known to be alive: an Australian man, 109, and a British woman, 110 .

Mr. Buckles said he was just a naive schoolboy chasing adventure when he enlisted Aug. 14, 1917, after the United States joined a war that had been raging for three years, with millions dead. "I knew what was happening in Europe, even though I was quite young," he told a Washington Post reporter when he was 105. "And I thought, well, 'I want to get over there and see what it's about."

After the armistice, he traveled the globe as a purser on commercial ships and was caught in Manila when Japan invaded the Philippines in 1941. He endured 38 months of cruel deprivation as a civilian prisoner during World War II before being freed in a daring military raid.

In 1953, he and his wife bought a cattle farm with a Colonial-era stone house near Charles Town, W.Va., and there Mr. Buckles quietly spent the rest of his life, his doughboy tunic hanging in a closet. As his generation passed away, he held fast as a centenarian, doing daily calisthenics and immersing himself in books and newspapers.

Then, on Feb. 4, 2008, a Florida man who had been in Army basic training when hostilities ended in November 1918 died at 108. As best as the VA could determine, that left only Mr. Buckles, who warmly indulged people's growing fascination with him.

He was an honored guest on Capitol Hill, at the Pentagon and in the Oval Office. School children, history buffs, journalists, younger veterans, and even Britain's defense secretary visited him at the farm, admiring him like a museum piece.

"Well, I guess I'm famous now," he said slyly. Not surprisingly, some were quick to declare him "a hero" - a notion he dismissed as sentimental.

The VA, established in 1930, does not have complete records from World War I. But amid all the attention Mr. Buckles received, no one surfaced claiming to have also served in the U.S. military before the armistice. Mr Buckles's secret to longevity: "When you think you're dying," his son-in-law once heard him quip, "don't."

Letters from strangers, some seeking autographs, arrived at his home in stacks. He signed as many as he could until a frail hand forced him to stop. And despite the ailments of age, he went on championing his favorite cause: a proposal to refurbish the District of Columbia's neglected World War I monument and rededicate it as a national memorial.

Appearing before a U.S. Senate panel in 2009 in support of the idea, Mr. Buckles greeted lawmakers and others as they filed toward him in a reverent procession. With his old Army ribbons pinned to his blue blazer, he seemed a memorial in his own right to a dimly remembered catastrophe that left an estimated 16 million people dead worldwide.

'I was just 16'

Wood Buckles - his given name, recorded in the family Bible before birth certificates were required in his home state - was born Feb. 1, 1901, on his parents' farm in Bethany, Mo. He said destiny seemed to side with him early, in 1903, when he and his brother Ashman fell deathly ill together with scarlet fever.

Ashman, 4, succumbed; Mr. Buckles pulled through and experienced a century. Few others born during the McKinley administration lived to have a Facebook page, as he did.

"My father took newspapers," he told the Library of Congress's Veterans History Project a decade ago. "I read about the war."

The tangle of alliances and volatile rivalries among Europe's old empires, the diplomatic deceits and blunders that ignited the conflict in 1914 were hard for an adolescent to sort out. But the din of rabid patriotism surrounding America's entry into the war in April 1917 stirred his imagination, Mr. Buckles said.

"I was just 16 and didn't look a day older," he once wrote. After Navy and Marine Corps recruiters shooed him away - "they'd take one look at me and laugh" - the Army, expanding massively, inducted Mr. Buckles, who swore without proof that he was old enough to join.

A sergeant insisted that he needed a middle initial, Mr. Buckles recalled. So he adopted an uncle's name, Frank Woodruff Buckles, and never stopped using it.

"Every last one of us Yanks believed we'd wrap this thing up in a month or two and head back home before harvest," he said. "In other words, we were the typical cocky Americans no one wants around until they need help winning a war."

In December 1917, as his Army detachment steamed for Europe on the British liner Carpathia, Mr. Buckles said, crewmen shared stories of the grim dawn less than six years earlier when their ship had been the first to reach survivors of the Titanic. From England, he said, "I was anxious to get to France, and I used several methods, including, I should say, pestering every officer of influence in the place."

A lifetime later, recalling the scorched French countryside from the comfort of his den, he spoke of the weary, grateful German POWs, some of them teenagers like himself, who he helped repatriate after the vast bloodletting of the world's first industrialized war.

One gave him a souvenir, a soldier's belt with a buckle inscribed, "GOTT MIT UNS" [God with us], which he kept for the rest of his years.

In war and peace

The nation's official toll from 19 months of war: 116,516 deaths, about half in battle, most of the rest from illnesses, mainly the 1918 influenza pandemic.

After his discharge, Mr. Buckles said, he paid for typing and shorthand classes and took a clerical job with a steamship line - a generation before the first G.I. Bill would make college and home ownership possible for millions of returning World War II vets.

He weathered the Depression at sea on his purser's salary, regularly making port calls in newly Nazified Germany. He saw Adolf Hitler at the 1936 Summer Olympics, he said, and watched Jesse Owens anger the dictator by sprinting to victory in Berlin's Reichssportfeld.

Then, in December 1941, he was working in a shipping company's Manila office when Japanese invaders landed in Luzon after the attack on Pearl Harbor.

"Three years, two months," he said of his captivity in the Philippines, eventually at a notorious camp in Los Banos. There, under pitiless Japanese guards, hundreds of Allied civilian and military internees lived in squalor, subsisting on often wormy rations.

"The starvation was so bad . . . it is surprising that any of us survived," said Mr. Buckles, who was among 2,147 Los Banos prisoners liberated Feb. 23, 1945, in a risky assault by U.S. paratroopers and Filipino guerrillas.

American commanders in the fight to retake the Philippines had ordered the rescue mission, 25 miles behind Japanese lines, fearing that the guards would begin massacring the captives before the main U.S. ground advance reached the camp.

Mr. Buckles turned 44 that winter, suffering from beriberi and dengue fever. Deciding he had had enough adventure, he said, he worked in sales for a West Coast paint company after marrying in 1946. Then he settled on his 330-acre Gap View Farm, driving a tractor past his 100th birthday until the years finally caught up with him.

His wife, Audrey Buckles, died in 1999 at age 78, after which Flanagan, their only survivor, moved to the farm to help care for her father.

Because Mr. Buckles served just one hitch in the Army and returned from France with no wounds or medals for bravery, he was eligible under Arlington National Cemetery protocols only for inurnment in a vault for cremated remains. In March 2008, however, the Bush administration ordered a rare exception for an old corporal of the so-called war to end all wars, and for the passing of living memory.

Mr. Buckles wanted a grave site at Arlington and a traditional white marble headstone. And he will get his wish.

He Made It! Happy Birthday, Frank!

2011-02-02T07:52:00.000-08:00

WWI veteran to celebrate 110th birthday today - herald-mail.com

Will Frank Buckles Make it to 110?

2010-12-30T09:44:00.000-08:00

The following story was posted on cnn.com yesterday. Please keep Frank in your thoughts and prayers, because an era will end when he passes on.

Washington (CNN) -- The family of Frank Buckles, the nation's lone living veteran of World War I, hopes he makes it to his 110th birthday about a month from now, despite troubling signs he is on the decline.
Buckles, who was born February 1, 1901, is thought to be the world's oldest living war veteran. Buckles has slowed down considerably in just the past two months, according to his daughter Susannah Buckles Flanagan, who lives with him at the family home near Charles Town, in the eastern panhandle of West Virginia. A family friend who visited two weeks ago says he is awake just a few hours a day.
"When he's awake, he's there with us," said David DeJonge, a Michigan portrait photographer who has spent the past decade documenting the final few veterans from the war that ended 92 years ago. With only one veteran left, DeJonge spends the remaining time helping Buckles represent the memory of his comrades.
Despite his advanced age, Buckles had been coming to Capitol Hill to try to persuade lawmakers to grant federal status to an existing World War I monument in Washington that was built in the 1930s. The monument currently honors only those who served from the District of Columbia.
"I have to," Buckles told CNN when he came to Washington a year ago to testify as part of what he considers his responsibility to those who've gone before him.
Although passed by the House, the legislation, known as the Frank Buckles Memorial Act, remains stalled in the Senate. Passage would bestow federal status to both the D.C. location and another WWI memorial in Kansas City, Missouri. His family is concerned he may never live to see the bill enacted.
Last month, Buckles was not strong enough and could not make a trip to Washington to review renovations as they began at the D.C. War Memorial. The National Park Service hosted a tour showing the first real improvements in decades at the site, fixing a neglected walkway and dressing up a deteriorated dome and marble columns.
Learning of Buckles' decline, the office of Rep. Shelley Moore Capito, R-West Virginia, sent word to the family last week that "she would like to offer her thoughts and prayers to him," at a time "Mr. Buckles' health has taken a turn for the worse."
As an Army corporal in what was known as the Great War, Buckles drove an ambulance in France.
Even if the monument becomes part of Buckles' legacy, his family is concerned the Pentagon has not fully considered what can be done to honor him after his death.
His daughter says the Military District of Washington will support an honors burial at Arlington, including an escort platoon, a horse-drawn casket arrival, a band and a firing party. She has expressed concern that Army officials have told her they cannot provide honor staff for any related memorial services that don't take place at the National Cemetery.

A proposal from Rep. Ted Poe, R-Texas, calls for ceremonies in the Capitol, where Buckles' casket would be displayed with honors. The family is concerned they would have to bear the cost of supporting the display and that the U.S military would decline to participate.
So DeJonge, the family friend who also serves as president of the WWI Memorial Foundation, told CNN he has asked American allies to help give Buckles a proper sendoff when the time comes.
"The French are in," DeJonge confirmed, "they plan to send a Defense Ministry official, and hope to contribute at least two honor guards and pallbearers." A British defense official has told the family that the UK would send the air-vice marshal and possibly the British ambassador.
"It has long been my father's wish to be buried in Arlington, in the same cemetery that holds his beloved General (John. J.) Pershing (commander of the American Expeditionary Forces in WWI)," Flanagan wrote, appealing for help from Sen. Joe Manchin, D-West Virginia. "I feel confident that the right thing will come to pass."

Exhibit Essay

2010-11-30T08:16:00.000-08:00

The following is an essay that I wrote that appeared in the Henrico County Historical Society's newsletter:

The exhibit Ready To Do My Part: Henrico County & World War I explores the events and historical legacies of how American participation in the First World War directly affected the citizens of Henrico County.

When an assassins bullet claimed the life of Austrian Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand on June 28, 1914, no one could have foreseen that in three short years 2 million American soldiers would be shipped overseas - or that 116,000 American soldiers would die in the conflict.

That 675,000 Americans of all walks of life would be killed by the influenza pandemic that broke out as a result of the war was unfathomable. As we approach the 94th anniversay of American involvement in World War I, it is only fitting to look back and reflect upon the trying times of 1917-1918.

The idea for the exhibit came from the immense collection of letters, photographs, and artifacts that were left from Sheppard Crump's wartime service. Many in Henrico today know Crump as the man who donated Meadow Farm to the County. Fewer citizens know that Crump served in the military for over fifty years and that he was sent to France as part of the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) during World War I. Crump served as an officer with the 29th Division and was instrumental in the formation of the American Legion in 1919. The items that he left behind to the County and the story of his service in France served as the springboard for the exhibit.

However, Sheppard Crump represented only a small portion of the larger story of a county - and a nation - at war. Research in the files of the Virginia War History Commission at the Library of Virginia soon revealed other soldiers and citizens of Henrico whose stories had lingered in obscurity for nearly 100 years. Henricoans living in Sandston may be surpised to know that they are living on ground that was once a thriving munitions plant during World War I. Graduates of the Medical College of Virginia will be interested to know the story of Base Hospital 45 - a group of nurses and doctors from MCV who went overseas and treated wounded soldiers close to the front lines.

In additon to the stories that are told in the exhibit, visitors will also get a chance to see dozens of artifacts from the conflict. Many of the items that Crump had with him in 1918-1919 are on display in addition to rare artifacts on loan from the Virginia Historical Society, The American Civil War Center at Historic Tredegar, and private collectors.

The exhibit opened on Thursday, September 16th with a special reception at the Meadow Farm Orientation Center and will remain on display into 2011.

For those who want to dig deeper into the story of Henrico and World War I, HCTV Channel 17 will be airing a 31-minute documentary entitled The Great War Remembered: Henrico's Story of Service and Support. If you live outside the county, you can view the documentary here.

It is hoped that Ready To Do My Part will serve as a fitting reminder of the high price that was paid by those who lived through the tumultuous events of 93 years ago. For more information on touring the exhibit call (804) 652-3406.

Happy Armistice Day!

2010-11-11T15:29:00.003-08:00

The Great War Remembered Documentary

2010-10-05T13:45:00.000-07:00

Well, in addition to being the curator of Henrico County’s new exhibit Ready To Do My Part: Henrico County in World War I, I also recently had the chance to work with an Emmy Award-winning producer on a thirty-minute documentary that deals with much of the same material as the exhibit. The film features talking heads such as myself and Mitch Yockelson, author of Borrowed Soldiers: Americans Under British Command, 1918 and contains some great archival footage and never-before-seen photographs.

If you’re interested in watching it, click here and enjoy!

Why Didn't We Listen to Their War Stories?

2010-09-28T08:56:00.000-07:00

As I have been contemplating the 92^nd anniversary of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, I had planned on writing a piece examining why this crucial battle is nearly forgotten today. But then I realized, why do this when my friend Ed Lengel has already done so in masterful fashion?

The following article was originally published in the Washington Post on May 25, 2008.

The last known surviving U.S. veteran of what was once called the Great War, Cpl. Frank Buckles of Charles Town, W.Va., recently toured the World War I memorial in Washington. Accompanied by his daughter and an aide, the wheelchair-bound 107-year-old rolled around the small, temple-like structure, stopping occasionally to acknowledge the applause of the small crowd that had gathered to watch. He did not comment upon the memorial's unkempt appearance -- it has been neglected for three decades -- but noticed that it honored only veterans from the city. "I can read here," he said in a soft, barely audible mumble, "that it was started to include the names of those who were local."

No one, apparently, had told him that the United States has no national World War I memorial. Buckles later modestly accepted tributes from President Bush and Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates at ceremonies at the White House and the Pentagon, asking only that all of the recently deceased U.S. veterans of World War I be honored alongside him. It was little enough to ask, after nine decades of neglect.

As we observe Memorial Day, a hard truth remains: Americans haven't forgotten about the doughboys. We just didn't want to hear about them in the first place. The war's last and greatest battle involving U.S. soldiers, fought in the Meuse-Argonne region of eastern France during the autumn of 1918, sucked in more than 1 million U.S. troops and hundreds of airplanes and tanks. Artillery batteries commanded by men such as the young Harry S. Truman fired more than 4 million shells -- more than the Union Army fired during the entire Civil War. More than 26,000 doughboys were killed and almost 100,000 wounded, making the clash probably the bloodiest single battle in U.S. history. But as far as the American public was concerned, it might as well never have taken place. "Veterans said to me in their speeches and in private that the American people did not know anything about the Meuse-Argonne battle," Brig. Gen. Dennis Nolan wrote years later. "I have never understood why."

Back then, civilians justified their indifference by claiming that the veterans refused to share their stories. In reality, the ignorance was self-imposed. "The boys would talk if the questioners would listen," said one embittered ex-doughboy. "But the questioners do not. They at once interrupt with, 'It's all too dreadful,' or, 'Doesn't it seem like a terrible dream?' or, 'How can you think of it?' or, 'I can't imagine such things.' It shuts the boys up." Far from remaining silent, U.S. veterans wrote hundreds of memoirs, diaries and novels of their experiences. In Europe, Canada and Australia, such books were big business. In the United States, they went mostly unread.

World War I never made its way into U.S. popular culture. Movies, documentaries and miniseries about the Civil War, World War II and Vietnam are common, and trade publishers are always ready for new histories of Gettysburg or the Battle of the Bulge. But what about World War I? "Hollywood has not turned its gaze in this direction for decades," noted Gates. Since "The Big Parade" (1925) and "All Quiet on the Western Front" (1930), no significant movie has appeared about the U.S. experience in World War I. ("Sergeant York," from 1941, is a propaganda piece, and 2006's "Flyboys" is a silly excuse for special-effects wizardry.) Television offers similarly little, aside from the atrocious 2001 A&E movie "The Lost Battalion" and the 1996 PBS series "The Great War and the Shaping of the 20th Century," which gave only passing mention to the U.S. role.

Nowhere is our neglect of the doughboys more noticeable than on the battlefields themselves. Although memorials to the Revolutionary War, the Civil War and World War II are often swamped with visitors, the battlefields of the Meuse-Argonne remain unvisited and largely unmarked. They have changed little since 1918. The French churches and houses are pocked with bullet holes, and bunkers, trenches and rifle pits surrounded by rusty barbed wire, old equipment, shell fragments and unexploded ordnance are visible almost everywhere you look. During a recent visit to the wooded ridge in the Argonne Forest where the "Lost Battalion" fought German troops in October 1918, I kicked aside some leaves and discovered a spent rifle cartridge and a piece of a flare gun -- not something one would expect to happen at Gettysburg or Antietam.

Memorials erected in the 1920s by veterans' organizations are scattered around the battlefield, but many have fallen into decay. Others are carefully maintained by the American Battle Monuments Commission but receive few visitors. Romagne, the largest U.S. military cemetery in Europe, contains the graves of more than 14,000 doughboys. Located on the site of an old German stronghold in the Meuse-Argonne, it centers around a Romanesque chapel, overlooking rows of crosses and Stars of David on a gently sloping hillside. No U.S. military memorial is more welcoming to visitors; the site enfolds you with a feeling of reverence and peace. The superintendent, Joseph P. Rivers, gladly takes visitors -- he says he gets about 25,000 every year -- on a tour of the cemetery, pointing out individual graves and telling stories of the soldiers buried there.

But on a typical summer day, when the gravestones at World War II's Omaha Beach echo with the squeals of busloads of teenagers shipped in from Paris, Romagne remains deserted. For the most part, the only visitors are British, French, Belgian and German; and it is they, not Americans, who lay flowers on the graves. (So much for French ingratitude.) Gordon Morse, a freelance journalist from Virginia visited the cemetery on Armistice Day in 2006 and was asked to read the presidential proclamation. "I got the job by default," he said. "There were no other American visitors available."

I recently asked the hosts of a Charlottesville radio talk show on war and remembrance why Americans seemed so uninterested in World War I. It all boiled down to circumstances, they answered. The United States wasn't in the fight for long and suffered relatively few casualties. Then the Great Depression intervened, followed by World War II, and people naturally forgot old sorrows. There must be more to it than that, I protested. World War I was hardly a forgettable conflict; during six months in 1918, 53,513 Americans were killed in action -- almost as many as in Vietnam, and over a much shorter period of time. Perhaps, I suggested, Americans simply found trench warfare too depressing. Annoyed, the hosts cut me off with a flippant remark. As the receiver clicked, I could not help feeling that they had helped prove my point.

Historian David McCullough has said that all teachers of history should be trained storytellers. But there are some stories that Americans would rather not hear. If war tales aren't thrilling, readers and armchair Napoleons aren't interested. The Civil War and World War II seem to lend themselves to good storytelling, as long as one avoids the ugly, depressing bits. They appear to have clear beginnings and endings, with dramatic heroes and villains. They move. World War I, by contrast, with its images of trench warfare and mustard gas, is not so easy to manipulate in a marketable manner. Popular historians consequently avoid it. As one trade publisher recently told me, World War I has "poor entertainment value." Attempts to discuss it, even with avid students of military history, often end with the same comments that veterans heard back in 1919: "It's all too dreadful," and so on. So powerful is this perception that even genuinely exciting stories -- those of Medal of Honor winners Charles W. Whittlesey, Alvin C. York, John L. Barkley and Freddie Stowers -- are ignored.

We should step back and think for a moment about what this says about Americans as people. Do we honor our veterans for all their sacrifices, or do we care only if they can tell us a good story? And who, then, is guilty of ingratitude?

Edward G. Lengel is an associate professor at the University of Virginia and the author, most recently, of "To Conquer Hell: The Meuse-Argonne, 1918."

92 Years Ago Today

2010-09-26T16:40:00.000-07:00

The Meuse-Argonne Offensive began. Never forget.

Trench Dictionary

2010-09-15T17:37:00.000-07:00

As is the case in every war, the weary and bedraggled soldiers who have to endure suffering and hardship create their own unique vernacular. Exhibiting dry wit, the exasperating inability to pronounce French place names, and a remarkable ability to maintain a sense of humor in the most trying of circumstances, here a few samplings of what one might have heard during a tour

of the trenches in 1918..

Aches-and-Pains – this was the name given by American soldiers to the area in the French Alps where they went when they were on leave. The proper name was “Aix-les-Bains” but some sarcastic American soldier renamed it “Aches-and-Pains” – something the Doughboy of 1918 would be very familiar with.

Balloonatic – with the airplane still in its infancy, armies of the First World War still relied upon observation balloons to monitor enemy troop movements. Many soldiers thought that being suspended in the air for all to see was not a sane idea and they therefore starting dubbing those who went up in the balloons “balloonatics.”

Cootie – still heard in elementary school conversations around the country, the World War I meaning of “cootie” was a body louse. Thus, in 1918, “to have cooties” meant to be covered from head to toe in body lice. Lice were also known to be called “galloping freckles” on occasion.

Dog Biscuit – just like his Civil War ancestors, the Doughboy of World War I was issued hardtack – a type of cracker or biscuit, made from flour, water, and salt that was very hard on the teeth and the digestive system.

Forty and Eight – name applied to the French rail cars that would take newly-arrived American soldiers to the front lines because their maximum capacity was either forty men or eight horses.

Honey-dipper – name applied to a soldier who got into trouble and was forced to clean out the latrines.

Kanned Wilhelm – derogatory name given to canned beef; in “honor” of

Germany

’s Kaiser Wilhelm II; also called “kanned willie.”

The Meatgrinder – alternate name for the battlefield

Parleyvoo – nickname given to French citizens

Pigsticker – bayonet

Scuttlebutt – rumors and gossip

Whizzbang – nickname given to a German .88 millimeter shell due to the noise it makes

Be Grateful For Your Hot Water

2010-09-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

What, you ask, does this have to do with WWI?

Well, consider the following letter, written by Richmonder Lt. Harold Calisch on September 26, 1918:

Baths are very infrequent occurrences. In fact, my first bath was an adventure. We found a sign “Bains” and went thru a tunnel into a very pretty court. Madame, the patronesse was also, “Caisse.” She was a typical looking Frence woman with her hair drawn tightly back into a knot. An apron the size of a dime and a greed the size of a dollar. A bath cost three francs. It included an old zinc tub, 2 towels, a bar of soap, a private bath room, comb and brush tied to Madame’s desk, a volume of hot water. This last made the big hit. I soaked thoroughly. They also gave me a rag which looked like a wash cloth so I used it as such. Afterward I found that it was to put on the floor to stand on. Really it was not a foot square….The French people are very picturesque. Their wooden shoes and the white caps of the women are particularly noticeable. In spite of their idea that all Americans are millionaires they are a great people.

Mark Your Calendars!

2010-09-05T10:15:00.000-07:00

If you’re interested in attending, go to Henrico County’s webpage to register.

A Painful Discovery

2010-09-03T21:14:00.000-07:00

In my last post I discussed some of the inherent joys in doing original research on the First World War.

However, this can be a double-edged sword, as I found out in the midst of my research for my upcoming exhibit Ready To Do My Part: Henrico County & World War I.

Case in point, Lieutenant Newton B. Ancarrow of the 317th Infantry Regiment, 80th Division.

Lt. Ancarrow’s letters to his mother can be found in Folder 3, Box 80 of the Virginia War History Commission files at the Library of Virginia.

The first letter I came across was written on July 2, 1918. Here’s a portion of the letter:

The American soldier is as a general rule, very keen for the trenches, and I think that when the opportunity comes, he will prove himself quite worthy. There is a spirit of daring in our men which our Allies and the Germans do not now possess, because of the fact that they have spent four years in the trenches and are now rather “war weary.” This spirit causes the American to be forever pestering the enemy rather than to sit and wait. We all know that among the men who have been through it there are some who say that it does no good to “kill one.” Their argument is that one man more or less won’t win or lose the war. The boys from “over there” think differently.

Newton’s enthusiasm was infectious and I was happy to read more of his observations of life in France.

On August 18, 1918 he wrote:

I suppose I told you that I have been in command of the company for over a month and am having no trouble at all. The trenches the last time up were not so bad for the weather was nice and we were not strafed quite so much by Jerry. Still it is quite wonderful how one will appreciate life after having a taste of the trenches, dug-outs etc.

It should be noted at this point that the 80th Division had not seen combat on a large scale up to this point. However, on September 26, 1918 the largest battle that the United States Army has ever fought – the Meuse-Argonne – commenced, and Lt. Ancarrow was caught up in the middle of it.

After experiencing the harsh realities of combat, Newton had this to say on October 15, 1918:

Dear Mother,

I suppose you have been a bit uneasy about me for the last three weeks because you have heard nothing from me. You have probably seen by the papers that we have been in action. We started in the drive on the 26th of September and were at it steadily until the 14th of October when we were relieved. Our Division made quite a name for itself, I think. I am sending you one of the congratulatory messages sent by the Division commander. There were two of these. I shall send you the other later. They are very valuable souvenirs.

There were quite a few casualties in the fight. We had four officers in the company but came out with two. Dago Campbell was shell shocked and is now in hospital. Barry came out all right. I wasn’t touched.

We are now back for a rest and I don’t know how short it will be. We needed it as we have been living in woods, trenches and holes in the ground for a month and a half. I hadn’t seen a woman or a house that was standing for a month and something even worse I hadn’t until today, had a real bath since late in August.

I guess that the people back home are talking and thinking Pease quite a bit. It doesn’t do any good. If there could be a fair clean-cut statements and not so many confounded notes and so much loose talk in the papers matters would be much better. The wonderful head-lines in the papers won’t do any good. Our papers have made it appear that the Allies are holding out for the Earth. The men won’t fight when they think there is nothing to fight for. I don’t believe that there will be Peace for a month or so yet. I wish the talk would stop.

I haven’t heard from Granger or Parker lately nor have I ever heard but once from Rob. The boys were down in Alsace in a quiet sector but I believe they are now near us where the latest American Offensive, Sept. 26, started. As far as I could find out they haven’t been used yet.

The hopes of everyone have been raised mighty high by the latest talk. I hope it doesn’t fall through. It would hurt awfully. The men have undergone lots of hardships and they are tired.

By the way, our Captain was gassed and later transferred to another Battalion. I have been recommended for promotion and expect that I will be a Captain in a week or so. I think I wrote you this before.

I shall write you very soon and cable if I have the opportunity. Love to all.

Devotedly,

Newton

To see the obvious shift from giddy enthusiasm to jaded realism was certainly distressing. However, a few months after reading through his letters I came across a typewritten document listing all of the men from Richmond who were killed in World War I.

Listed at the top was Lt. Newton Ancarrow.

He was killed on November 3, 1918 – just eight days before the Armistice ending the war was signed.

“Foos” Fighter

2010-09-02T09:35:00.000-07:00

As any curator will tell you, one of the best parts of creating an exhibit is doing original research. Spending time with original letters, diaries, and memoirs that have wallowed in obscurity for decades is a thrilling experience.

When I was conducting the research phase of Ready To Do My Part, I spent many hours at the Library of Virginia going through the files of the Virginia War History Commission.

Established in January of 1919 to collect, edit, and publish source material on Virginia’s participation in the Great War, the Virginia War History Commission fulfilled it’s mission for nine years before finally disbanding. While the Commission failed to publish a comprehensive history of Virginia’s participation, it did manage to collect a wealth of material that is now stored at the Library of Virginia (in over 100 cubic feet of storage space, I might add).

I was very happy to find that there were around 2,500 letters and 50 diaries in the collection and it was great fun holding these forgotten missives in my hands and poring through their contents.

I was amazed to find wonderful firsthand accounts of what life was like as a soldier in the AEF and I thought I would periodically share some of what I found.

I found the following letter written by Eugene B. Foos of Richmond with the following note scribbled on it – “believed to be the first and only Richmond boy to serve in battle in a tank.” Needless to say I was intrigued and it turned out that Mr. Foos did not disappoint.

Here’s what he wrote:

It sounds like a continuous Fourth of July around here at nights. You see a blaze pop up in one place and turning around you find three or four. One night after we had gone to sleep they moved a big gun up by us and started firing. I thought the Germans were shelling the place. I mean to say when they fire it is enough to wake up the dead, but now I don’t pay any attention to them.

We have had five or six air battles around us, but every time we drive them back and bring down a couple of German planes. It is surely interesting to watch an air battle; it looks like a bunch of birds fighting for something to eat.

I noticed in a paper from ‘over there’ that machine gun bullets do not have any effect on us. Somebody has evidently not been in one while in action. There are little slits in it for us to look out of, they are about four inches long and about a quarter of an inch wide. There are ten of them, and when the bullets would hit around them the hot lead would come through, and I mean to say it surely does sting when it hits you in the face. It feels like a bunch of bees had lit on it and that makes you all the madder. Outside of that, the small bullets do not bother us.

Here are a few things we have to stand: The barking of our gun; the darkness, for it is pitch black on the inside with the exception of two small green lights; the racing of our motor which is always humming at your ears; the bullets hitting on the outside playing ‘Annie Laurie’ and ‘Oover There’ at the same time and looking out for Fritz; so you can see we cannot get lonely.

With all of that I would not transfer to any other branch. The people over here think it is the highest branch and so do I, and so will the people back home when we get a little older. We are in our infancy now. Just wait until we put on our long pants, then the world will know of us.

New WWI Exhibit Opening 9/16/10

2010-09-01T16:25:00.000-07:00

The following will be featured in the upcoming edition of the Henrico Historical Society’s Newsletter and details the exhibit that I referenced in the opening post. Enjoy!

The exhibit Ready To Do My Part: Henrico County & World War I explores the events and historical legacies of how American participation in the First World War directly affected the citizens of Henrico County.

When an assassins’ bullet claimed the life of Austrian Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand on June 28, 1914, no one could have foreseen that in three short years 2 million American soldiers would be shipped overseas – or that over 116,000 American soldiers would die in the conflict.

That 675,000 Americans of all walks of life would be killed by the influenza pandemic that broke out as a result of the war was unfathomable. As we approach the 94th anniversary of American involvement in World War I, it is only fitting to look back and reflect upon the trying times of 1917-1918.

The idea for the exhibit came from the immense collection of letters, photographs, and artifacts that were left to the County from Sheppard Crump. Many in Henrico today know Crump as the man who donated Meadow Farm to the county. Fewer citizens know that Crump served in the military for over fifty years and that he was sent over to France as part of the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) during World War I. Crump served as an officer with the 29th Division and was instrumental in the formation of the American Legion in 1919. The items that he left behind to the County and the story of his service in France served as the springboard for the exhibit.

However, Sheppard Crump represented only a small portion of the larger story of a county – and a nation – at war. Research in the files of the Virginia War History Commission at the Library of Virginia soon revealed other soldiers and citizens of Henrico whose stories had lingered in obscurity for nearly 100 years. Henricoans living in Sandston may be surprised to know that they are living on ground that was once a thriving munitions plant during World War I. Graduates of the Medical College of Virginia will be interested to know the story of Base Hospital 45 – a group of nurses and doctors from MCV who went overseas and treated wounded soldiers close to the front lines.

In addition to the stories that are told in the exhibit, visitors will also get a chance to see dozens of artifacts from the conflict. Many of the items that Crump had with him in 1918-1919 will be on display in addition to rare artifacts on loan from the Virginia Historical Society, The American Civil War Center at Historic Tredegar, and private collectors.

The exhibit will open at 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, September 16th with a special reception at the Meadow Farm Orientation Center. It will remain on display through the end of the year.

For those who want to dig deeper into the story of Henrico and World War I, HCTV Channel 17 will be airing a 31-minute documentary entitled The Great War Remembered: Henrico’s Story of Service and Support starting on August 23rd.

Finally, a symposium will take place on Saturday, October 23rd at Henrico Theater featuring some of the leading scholars in the field of World War I studies. Dr. Edward G. Lengel of the University of Virginia, Dr. Mitchell A. Yockelson of the National Archives, and Brig. Gen. (Ret.) John W. Mountcastle will discuss different aspects of American involvement in World War I and participate in a question and answer segment open to all attendees. This event will run from 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. and will cost only $20 per person. Registration is required.

For any questions regarding the upcoming exhibit and symposium, please contact the exhibit curator, Jimmy Price, at 652-3411 or pri64@co.henrico.va.us.

It is hoped that Ready To Do My Part will serve as a fitting reminder of the high price that was paid by those who lived through the tumultuous events of 93 years ago.

The Blog To End All Blogs

2010-09-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

Hello, and thank you for taking the time to stop by and read the inaugural post for a blog that I hope will fill a niche in the greater blogosphere. Some of you may be familiar with my other blog, The Sable Arm, which pertains to United States Colored Troops during the American Civil War.

My plans for this blog are much bigger and, due to the scope of the content that will be covered, the range of topics examined will be necessarily broader.

Over There stems from research that I have been conducting on the experiences of one county in Virginia during the Great War. This research has been converted into a museum exhibition that will be opening on September 16, 2010 (more on that later).

After two years of familiarizing myself with the topic, I figured it was time to “go public” and see if anyone out there is interested.

So without further ado, let’s get started!

In the words of a popular song from the war, “I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way”…