Colonel Jay J. Morrow Colonel A

Colonel Jay J. Morrow Colonel A

COLONEL JAY J. MORROW COLONEL A. H. ACHER COLONEL R. A. WHEELER COLUMBIA TO THE RHINE. BEING A BRIEF HISTORy OF THE FOURTH ENGINE^S, AND THEIR TRIP FROM THE COLUMBIA RIVER, IN THE STATE OF WASHINGTON, U.S, A., TO THE RHINE RIVER IN GERMANy. WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATEDLLUS1 By MEN OF THEI REGIMENTREG . KUNTED By WBSTD»ITSCHE OROSSORUOCBKBI O.M.B.H. WAlD>Gl^MANy. This book is intended to show the life of the men in the Fourth Engineers, what they did and how they felt. and not to give a history of the war. It was written by men who are not writers, illustrated by men who are not artists, edited by men who are not editors, and printed (under difficulties) by German printers. LIST OF CONTENTS. Page Rooky 1 Camp Green 17 At Sea 31 Parley Vous Francais? 44 From Calais to Crouttes 56 July I8th 75 The Vesle 94 Relieved 118 St. Mihiei 126 The Argonne 137 The Armistice 166 Germany 181 A Brief History of the Fourth 191 Notes 255 ILLUSTRATIONS. Page Colonel Wheeler Photo, Frontpiece 4th vs 14th Hales 14 Pulling Out of Goodland, Kansas Kntidsen 16 Transport Liver Stew Hales 34 Our First French chicken Hales 46 The Battle of vin Blanc Kntidsen 50 Calais, May 16 th Stuart 58 "Kamorade" Knudsen 78 "He Got Him" Knudsen 82 The battle in the Clouds Knudsen 84 A Machine Gun Post Stuart 88 A Dead Jerry Knudsen 90 Point Blank Knudsen 92 Bridging the Ourc Knudsen 98 The End of a hard Day Knudsen 102 Camoflage Knudsen 104 The Vesle River Knudsen 108 Going to the Vesle Knudsen 110 Bridging the Vesle Knudsen 114 A Big Baby Stuart 116 In Action Hales 120 A Camp Knudsen 128 D Company at St. Mehiel Knudsen 130 Road work Knudsen 134 The Big Barrage Knudsen 136 Hill 304 Stuart 138 Moving the Guns Knudsen 140 G. I. Cans Knudsen 142 Over the Top Knudsen 144 Walking Wounded Knudsen 146 The Morning of the 26 th Knudsen 148 Fox Holes Knudsen 152 Near Nantilois Knudsen 154 •Feeding Fire Knudsen 156 Dinner for Five Gorman 158 The M. D. S. Rider Knudsen 160 Reading the Daily News Hales 162 Yankee Graves in the Argonne Knudsen 164 Ruins Qorman 172 Going Ahead Knudsen 176 Cochem Photo 180 Bruttig and Beilsteio Photo 184 When the Occupation Army Comes Home Knudsen 186 THE ROOKY. "Look at the feet on him." "Yea-Bo: l(X)k at his ears." Such cries'as these greeted the recruits that arrived at Vancouver Barracks to form the 4th Regiment of Engineers. And they sure were an outfit that looked as if they had just drifted oil the tip of the cartoonists pen. For instance, — there was the cow puncher from Montana with his high heel boots, spurs, and chaps; — marching next to a California Prune Picker with his overalls still showing the sta.ns of last year's gathering. And he in turn, a file leader for a real honest to goodness Spool from Oregon City, with his Ice Cream suit, — cigarette holder, silk socks and perfume. Then along comes some Dude, who had recently belonged to the Cripple Creek High School drill team, drtsised in on Olive Drab coat and leggins —but civilian pants, shoes and hat. And he sure was some guy, chin stuck out and marching at attention. Then again there was Crap Shooting Shorty Roy Harris, later a D.S.C.Man — height 5'5" march ng abreast of Slim Henderson — height 6'8'* — not counting the hump on his back. Yea verily-that was some outfit. Old "Slim" Henderson jumped into the spotlight in less time than it takefi to tell. As the Rookies were marching thru the canonment, — some old-timer piped off Slim. "Weelf Look at the feet on the b'g one." As this exclamation reached Slims ears-he dropped both suit cases, and tumng around, drawled: — "Now which one of you guys said that?" Not a sound marred the rhytlimical tread of trudging feel, so Slim picked up his suit cases and (nidged on. But the big boy had marked his place for all time to come. Black Jack stock ran high for the next few days while Poker and Craps were far above par. But at last! — at last! — Sgt. Downing*s whistle echoed among the balmy and beautiful trees of the Barracks, and the Rookies were lined up for clothes issue. Some of them were lucky, and soon blossomed out in a full fledged suit of Olive Drab, while others received a pair of socks and a hat, or some other like combination. One Rooky was given a pair of shoes strings and a hat cord with the promise erf having the shoes and hat in a week or so. Then there was 'Shorty" Harris-later of C. Company. He drew a pair of leggins-size 4. Now Shorty is the smallest man in the regiment-height 5 feet. There lies the tale, — Poor old Shorty sitting on the side of his bunk with tlie No. 4 leggin.-* wrapped three times around his leg, and extending 3" above his knee. After miserably gazing at this spectacular sight for about 5 minutes-Shorty looked up- "Say Nig" he hollered. ''What do you want?" answered Nig-who was trying to crawl into a pair of pants two sizes too small. "Sherman was sure some good guesser" says Shorty, sadly gazing on the enlongated "thing'' that clung to his leg like a stove pipe. But it was only a matter of days before everybody was entirely fitted out in Olive Drab. Then the trips to town commenced, and as the first tide of self satisfied rookies drifted out of the gate for an evening of Soda-Pop and Moving-Pictures; ~ the Kltlc town of Vancouver wa» wamecf d their coming by an effervescing and tantalizing odor that radiated and penetrated the tiny molecules of ozone, miles in advance of the approaching soldier. If that same smell was introduced on the battlefield, what a scramble for gas masks there would be. But the sight of tliese soldiers, fully repaid the good citizens of the town for all the tortures endured from the odor of those dohes- W •»» 'Jie't protrv iing many inches above normal-these atiJia strode down the Ma n Street of the little town pround as peacocks in their new uniforms. But those Icpgins; — They fit O.K. at both top and bottom, but the calves looked like a cross between a Picnic Basket and a Bed sack. Without a bit of exaggeration, each calf had the capacity of six days reserve rations. And that blouse-surely the designer must have been having a pipe dream of a brooder, when working aa the tail of that garment, for a better shelter to a brood of chickens is unpossible to find. But in due time the boys got wise, and after a few shekels spent with the company tailor and others, — they presented a much better appearance. SHOTS. Shortly after, — another grief was added to the list <A trials and tribulations of the Poor Rooky, The first of this came in the shape of a notice on the Bulletin Board. — announcing that Recruit "So and So" report to the infirmary at 10 :00 A.M. 'Quite a bit of excitement preva'led over this notice, as somebody started the rumour that the posted men were to be exam ned for a commission. Some other Dude then stepped into the game with the startling news that the above named men were to be discharged; as their physical make up was deficient- In consequence, it was a rather nervous and suspecting; bunch that grouped themselves on the infirmary porch, awaiting the surgeon's pleasure. AH rumors were thrown to the winds however, as the first man's name was called. He entered the building and was soon lost to sight. It was but little over a m nute whm he reappeared with his hand tightly clasped to the musculjr p<jr(ion of his right arm. Disgust was written all «.>rr his face and in rcsponce to our inquiries he "Aw they gave me a shot in the arm." And a shot in the arm it sure was. That old pill- twister would lean way back with his arm stretched to its full length. There he would wait, while the assistant would dob the arm with an orange colored fluid; which we later found was the army idea for a cure of anything from a tooth-ache to the Hookwonn, — Beloved Iodine. Then the aforsaid pill twister wuld start his hand towards the spot on your arm designated by the dab of Iodine, and with a murderous swing and reckless aim, he would run that needle about six inches into your anatomy. Then with a savage jerk he would pull it out and holier "next". It was easy to figure out that guy's former occupation frcMn that ejaculation. That shot would not have been half as bad if they had let us alone in the next few days. But no, no, that could not be. The vaccinators-and needle wielders must have practice, so they turned the days into night-mares with an everlasting barrage of shots. We watched that needle weilders muscle grow from an ordinary size — to a lump that would have been a credit to a blacksmith, and all from that long and vicious swing. And each day found that needle coming faster and penetrating deeper, as his skill and strength grew.

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