When my wife and I came into each other’s lives over 50 years ago, she had four living and age-appropriately healthy grandparents. The lived locally when she was growing up and she was blessed to have known them well. For several years until they began passing away, I was blessed to spend time with them and come to know them, as well.
Among them was her paternal grandfather, Charles. Charles had spent much of his adult life around motor vehicles, running a small bus line that failed after the stock market crash, selling trucks in upstate New York during the Depression (often, we understand, to bootleggers, the only people who had money to buy trucks) and selling cars after that. Befitting his professional life, he had an engaging interest in people and a ready smile, coming naturally with total sincerity and genuineness.
I remember him as a singularly soft-spoken, sweet, and gentle man. Into his early eighties, he had a part time job driving kindergarteners home after school, and I can picture him taking delight in his personal connection with each of them. He was devoted to his equally sweet and retiring wife, to his son, and to his four granddaughters. When my wife and I moved across the country for graduate school, he would send us over-stuffed envelopes filled with wads of newspaper clippings he thought we would enjoy. Charles and Lola were absolutely over-joyed to meet their great-granddaughter when we brought her to their home one Christmas vacation in their closing years.
We knew that Charles had served in the First World War, but were not much aware of the specifics of his service. His reflections came largely through his son (himself a veteran in the second world war), who passed along his father’s stories of happy times and friendships and cheerfully rendered camp meeting songs (Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parlez-vous!). My father-in-law also said that Charles had been in “major battles” of the war and advised him, as the clouds of the new war approached, not to go into the infantry. Hence, my father-in-law’s service in the Army Air Corps.
Gaps filled in with my older son’s initiative to transcribe his great-grandfather’s World War 1 journal. The family had been aware of the journal, but it had lain, largely unexplored, for a hundred years.
The journal itself is a pocket-sized, leather-bound book that has small space for daily entries over a 5-year period. The army apparently made these available to soldiers with the rationale, reflected in a preface, that
You have neither the time nor the inclination, possibly, to keep a full diary. Suppose, however, out of the multitude of matters that crowd each day, you jot down a line or two those most worthy of remembrance. Such a book will be of the greatest value in after years. What a record of events, incidents, joys, sorrows, successes, failures, things accomplished, things attempted. This book is designed for just such a record.
Charles did, indeed, record some things that were worthy of remembrance, in pen and pencil with such small font that we sometimes needed a magnifying glass to discern what he had said.
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The story emerged.
Charles enlisted in his hometown of Albany, New York, and was mustered into federal service as part of the New York National Guard in July, 1917. His initial training- drills and signaling, tent-pitching, rifle training, map reading- was in upstate New York and offered enough time on passes that he was able to visit with his fiancé and family, go to the local Y to swim, and see the latest movies at the hippodrome. He was apparently also a good horseman, and he records being invited on rides with officers from his company.
He and his unit shipped out in late September and made their way to Spartanburg, SC. For the remainder of 1917, Charles’ time was divided among continuing drill, menial tasks like grading a street, riding and caring for horses, and serving as an orderly for the commanding general.
Recognizing Charles’ leadership potential, he was accepted for Officers’ Training School, which he attended and from which he graduated as a Second Lieutenant at Camp Wadsworth, SC, from January 5 to April 5, 1918. He shipped to Europe aboard the USS Antigone, a Navy transport that made eight transatlantic crossings carrying troops during the war.
Much of his journal into the late summer of 1918 documents continuing training, camp life, and furloughs into Paris and into local communities in France. He also refers to regular correspondence, as he was able, with his beloved Lola, parents, and other friends and family.
As the weeks passed, he came closer to the front lines.
July 27: Received orders to go up the line in reserve. Ah! Well might just as well start now. Had a few shells drop around. Saw my first dead men. Camped in woods. Gas alarm about 2 A.M. M.P.’s shooting. Some scare.
August 17: Saturday. At last the order came and we pulled out at noon by truck. Some dusty ride but then would rather ride than walk eh! Passed thru a beautiful section of the country. Billeted in a wheat field rather hard sleeping but then “a la guerre.” Slept fine under the eaves of a wheat stack.
Sept 5: Thursday. Laid around all day except when I packed up. Have order to move. Hope not up front as yet because the men are not sufficiently trained but if so why so be it. I’m ready when they are. Will have lots to tell the folks when I get back, eh! Started hike at 8:20 and hiked until 4:30 A.M. Was about all in but kept going. Had a good bed to sleep in when we stopped.
Sept 11: Wednesday. Slept all day under escort wagon. Some bunk. Rained all day. Left at 9 P.M. Still raining. Halted on the top of hill for three hours and watched first American barrage. Some “hell,” I’ll say. It was a wonderful sight from this side, but the Germans must have suffered. Arrived in shellfire at 3 A.M.
Sept 12: Thursday. Barrage started at 1 A.M. Slept in woods near Pont-a-Mousson. Had about three hours sleep. Started out again at 12 M. Jerry retreating so fast we don’t even have time to sleep. Good news. Advanced five miles this A.M. Past beaucoup prisoners along the road. Reached first line trenches at 8 P.M. Slept in open.
Sept 18: Wednesday. Camped at 2 A.M. on hillside. Rain rain rain. Awoke at 7 A.M. and moved to new camp in woods. Boshe were here in 1914. Beaucoup dead French near Julevecourt.
September 26, 1918, then, was the beginning of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, the largest campaign of the war, and the second costliest military engagement (next to the Normandy campaign) in American history, with ultimately over 26,000 deaths.
Sept 26: Thursday. Big barrage started at 3A.M. Seemed like a continuous thunder. I am glad that I am in the rear of it. Barrage still continues at 10:30. Had a good breakfast. Am ready for whatever comes now. Moved at 12 noon. Hiked about 10 kilos. Saw beaucoup prisoners also 2 balloons brought down & 1 Boshe Plane. Camped in 1914 battlefield. Some holes. Gas alarm.
Sept 29: Sunday. Spent the day in the woods. Rained all day. Orders to move in the evening. Hiked thru no man’s land (4 years). Some shell holes. It poured all the way. Slept in the woods for three hours.
Sept 30: Monday. Started forward at 7:30 A.M. Some cool. Lay in trenches until 5 P.M. Ordered to move forward. Very foolish in broad daylight. Dutch fired point blank at us crossing hill. Bugler and my striker killed. Addie and Lidey wounded. Some experience. Never expected to reach the other side but God was with me. You bet I thanked him. Dug in and slept in the woods.
October 1: Tuesday. Awoke at 9 A.M. and located rest of company. Under shell fire all day. Laid Buglar and Larsean away at Mont Faucon. News came that we were to be relieved. Welcome. Well yes. Started back at 11:30. Heavy barrage during the night. No one hurt.
October 2: Wednesday. Chow arrived. Coffee-beans-doughnuts-bacon-was cold but tasted better than anything I have ever eaten. Had a good nights sleep. Laid in reserve all day. A “few” shell dropped around. Lost a couple of men. War surely is hell. Hot chow arrived at 8:30. Some feeds. Beans , had jam and coffee. Received news about Austria. Hope it comes true.
October 3: Thursday. Still at reserve dugout. Jerry sent over some barrage. We were lucky. Expect to go forward today. Can’t say that I’m enthusiastic over this war game. They hurt too many men. Hope we get relieved. Loud shells busting around now.
October 4: Friday. Started attack on Cierges at 5:30. I acted as liaison officer. Some hill. Advanced about 2 kilos. Got into some gas. Beaucoup machine guns. Had some narrow escapes. Slept with Howell Co “A” that night.
October 5: Saturday. Spent day connecting with flank snipers. Very busy. Hope they don’t get me. Some one provided barrage.
October 6: Sunday. Took “A” Co up in attack on Mec. Luns. Shot us up pretty badly. Don’t know how I escaped it. Plenty of shells today. Relieved at 8P.M.
After this point, Charles was apparently moved to the rear and spent much of his time until the Armistice censoring letters and writing to families of fallen comrades. There is no entry for November 11 and the following week; I have read that many American soldiers greeted that day less with exhilaration and more with exhaustion and relief.
Charles moved into and across Germany with the Army of Occupation after the Armistice. He returned home in 1919 to marry his sweetheart, raise what became a loving extended four-generation family, and live his life.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I have always been struck, particularly since reading the journal, with the gulf that stands between the warrior of 1918 and the sweet, gentle man who dearly loved his family and drove kindergarteners home after school into this eighties.
I think that Charles embodies well the idea of a “citizen soldier.” The historian Stephen Ambrose wrote, “The American citizen soldiers knew the difference between right and wrong, and they didn’t want to live in a world in which wrong prevailed. So they fought, and won, and all of us, living and yet to be born, must be profoundly grateful.”
I never spoke with Charles about his motivation around his military experience, but I believe these ideas would resonate with him. I can’t imagine for a moment that Charles had any interest in being a professional soldier, but he was part of a flow in American life that saw a cause worth pursuing, and made sacrifices to pursue it.
My own professional life and journey has been so much about spirituality, dialogue, reconciliation, and love (often making for interesting conversations about warfare) but these things seem a little beside the point when I think of Charles. Here was a good man, an honorable man, who put a hold on his relationship with the woman he loved and the family that nurtured him, on behalf of values that mattered to him.
So, to Lieutenant Allen, aka “Granddaddy” in our family, you will always have my admiration and love.
Among them was her paternal grandfather, Charles. Charles had spent much of his adult life around motor vehicles, running a small bus line that failed after the stock market crash, selling trucks in upstate New York during the Depression (often, we understand, to bootleggers, the only people who had money to buy trucks) and selling cars after that. Befitting his professional life, he had an engaging interest in people and a ready smile, coming naturally with total sincerity and genuineness.
I remember him as a singularly soft-spoken, sweet, and gentle man. Into his early eighties, he had a part time job driving kindergarteners home after school, and I can picture him taking delight in his personal connection with each of them. He was devoted to his equally sweet and retiring wife, to his son, and to his four granddaughters. When my wife and I moved across the country for graduate school, he would send us over-stuffed envelopes filled with wads of newspaper clippings he thought we would enjoy. Charles and Lola were absolutely over-joyed to meet their great-granddaughter when we brought her to their home one Christmas vacation in their closing years.
We knew that Charles had served in the First World War, but were not much aware of the specifics of his service. His reflections came largely through his son (himself a veteran in the second world war), who passed along his father’s stories of happy times and friendships and cheerfully rendered camp meeting songs (Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parlez-vous!). My father-in-law also said that Charles had been in “major battles” of the war and advised him, as the clouds of the new war approached, not to go into the infantry. Hence, my father-in-law’s service in the Army Air Corps.
Gaps filled in with my older son’s initiative to transcribe his great-grandfather’s World War 1 journal. The family had been aware of the journal, but it had lain, largely unexplored, for a hundred years.
The journal itself is a pocket-sized, leather-bound book that has small space for daily entries over a 5-year period. The army apparently made these available to soldiers with the rationale, reflected in a preface, that
You have neither the time nor the inclination, possibly, to keep a full diary. Suppose, however, out of the multitude of matters that crowd each day, you jot down a line or two those most worthy of remembrance. Such a book will be of the greatest value in after years. What a record of events, incidents, joys, sorrows, successes, failures, things accomplished, things attempted. This book is designed for just such a record.
Charles did, indeed, record some things that were worthy of remembrance, in pen and pencil with such small font that we sometimes needed a magnifying glass to discern what he had said.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The story emerged.
Charles enlisted in his hometown of Albany, New York, and was mustered into federal service as part of the New York National Guard in July, 1917. His initial training- drills and signaling, tent-pitching, rifle training, map reading- was in upstate New York and offered enough time on passes that he was able to visit with his fiancé and family, go to the local Y to swim, and see the latest movies at the hippodrome. He was apparently also a good horseman, and he records being invited on rides with officers from his company.
He and his unit shipped out in late September and made their way to Spartanburg, SC. For the remainder of 1917, Charles’ time was divided among continuing drill, menial tasks like grading a street, riding and caring for horses, and serving as an orderly for the commanding general.
Recognizing Charles’ leadership potential, he was accepted for Officers’ Training School, which he attended and from which he graduated as a Second Lieutenant at Camp Wadsworth, SC, from January 5 to April 5, 1918. He shipped to Europe aboard the USS Antigone, a Navy transport that made eight transatlantic crossings carrying troops during the war.
Much of his journal into the late summer of 1918 documents continuing training, camp life, and furloughs into Paris and into local communities in France. He also refers to regular correspondence, as he was able, with his beloved Lola, parents, and other friends and family.
As the weeks passed, he came closer to the front lines.
July 27: Received orders to go up the line in reserve. Ah! Well might just as well start now. Had a few shells drop around. Saw my first dead men. Camped in woods. Gas alarm about 2 A.M. M.P.’s shooting. Some scare.
August 17: Saturday. At last the order came and we pulled out at noon by truck. Some dusty ride but then would rather ride than walk eh! Passed thru a beautiful section of the country. Billeted in a wheat field rather hard sleeping but then “a la guerre.” Slept fine under the eaves of a wheat stack.
Sept 5: Thursday. Laid around all day except when I packed up. Have order to move. Hope not up front as yet because the men are not sufficiently trained but if so why so be it. I’m ready when they are. Will have lots to tell the folks when I get back, eh! Started hike at 8:20 and hiked until 4:30 A.M. Was about all in but kept going. Had a good bed to sleep in when we stopped.
Sept 11: Wednesday. Slept all day under escort wagon. Some bunk. Rained all day. Left at 9 P.M. Still raining. Halted on the top of hill for three hours and watched first American barrage. Some “hell,” I’ll say. It was a wonderful sight from this side, but the Germans must have suffered. Arrived in shellfire at 3 A.M.
Sept 12: Thursday. Barrage started at 1 A.M. Slept in woods near Pont-a-Mousson. Had about three hours sleep. Started out again at 12 M. Jerry retreating so fast we don’t even have time to sleep. Good news. Advanced five miles this A.M. Past beaucoup prisoners along the road. Reached first line trenches at 8 P.M. Slept in open.
Sept 18: Wednesday. Camped at 2 A.M. on hillside. Rain rain rain. Awoke at 7 A.M. and moved to new camp in woods. Boshe were here in 1914. Beaucoup dead French near Julevecourt.
September 26, 1918, then, was the beginning of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, the largest campaign of the war, and the second costliest military engagement (next to the Normandy campaign) in American history, with ultimately over 26,000 deaths.
Sept 26: Thursday. Big barrage started at 3A.M. Seemed like a continuous thunder. I am glad that I am in the rear of it. Barrage still continues at 10:30. Had a good breakfast. Am ready for whatever comes now. Moved at 12 noon. Hiked about 10 kilos. Saw beaucoup prisoners also 2 balloons brought down & 1 Boshe Plane. Camped in 1914 battlefield. Some holes. Gas alarm.
Sept 29: Sunday. Spent the day in the woods. Rained all day. Orders to move in the evening. Hiked thru no man’s land (4 years). Some shell holes. It poured all the way. Slept in the woods for three hours.
Sept 30: Monday. Started forward at 7:30 A.M. Some cool. Lay in trenches until 5 P.M. Ordered to move forward. Very foolish in broad daylight. Dutch fired point blank at us crossing hill. Bugler and my striker killed. Addie and Lidey wounded. Some experience. Never expected to reach the other side but God was with me. You bet I thanked him. Dug in and slept in the woods.
October 1: Tuesday. Awoke at 9 A.M. and located rest of company. Under shell fire all day. Laid Buglar and Larsean away at Mont Faucon. News came that we were to be relieved. Welcome. Well yes. Started back at 11:30. Heavy barrage during the night. No one hurt.
October 2: Wednesday. Chow arrived. Coffee-beans-doughnuts-bacon-was cold but tasted better than anything I have ever eaten. Had a good nights sleep. Laid in reserve all day. A “few” shell dropped around. Lost a couple of men. War surely is hell. Hot chow arrived at 8:30. Some feeds. Beans , had jam and coffee. Received news about Austria. Hope it comes true.
October 3: Thursday. Still at reserve dugout. Jerry sent over some barrage. We were lucky. Expect to go forward today. Can’t say that I’m enthusiastic over this war game. They hurt too many men. Hope we get relieved. Loud shells busting around now.
October 4: Friday. Started attack on Cierges at 5:30. I acted as liaison officer. Some hill. Advanced about 2 kilos. Got into some gas. Beaucoup machine guns. Had some narrow escapes. Slept with Howell Co “A” that night.
October 5: Saturday. Spent day connecting with flank snipers. Very busy. Hope they don’t get me. Some one provided barrage.
October 6: Sunday. Took “A” Co up in attack on Mec. Luns. Shot us up pretty badly. Don’t know how I escaped it. Plenty of shells today. Relieved at 8P.M.
After this point, Charles was apparently moved to the rear and spent much of his time until the Armistice censoring letters and writing to families of fallen comrades. There is no entry for November 11 and the following week; I have read that many American soldiers greeted that day less with exhilaration and more with exhaustion and relief.
Charles moved into and across Germany with the Army of Occupation after the Armistice. He returned home in 1919 to marry his sweetheart, raise what became a loving extended four-generation family, and live his life.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I have always been struck, particularly since reading the journal, with the gulf that stands between the warrior of 1918 and the sweet, gentle man who dearly loved his family and drove kindergarteners home after school into this eighties.
I think that Charles embodies well the idea of a “citizen soldier.” The historian Stephen Ambrose wrote, “The American citizen soldiers knew the difference between right and wrong, and they didn’t want to live in a world in which wrong prevailed. So they fought, and won, and all of us, living and yet to be born, must be profoundly grateful.”
I never spoke with Charles about his motivation around his military experience, but I believe these ideas would resonate with him. I can’t imagine for a moment that Charles had any interest in being a professional soldier, but he was part of a flow in American life that saw a cause worth pursuing, and made sacrifices to pursue it.
My own professional life and journey has been so much about spirituality, dialogue, reconciliation, and love (often making for interesting conversations about warfare) but these things seem a little beside the point when I think of Charles. Here was a good man, an honorable man, who put a hold on his relationship with the woman he loved and the family that nurtured him, on behalf of values that mattered to him.
So, to Lieutenant Allen, aka “Granddaddy” in our family, you will always have my admiration and love.