A Navy Surgeon Over There

A Navy Surgeon “Over There” The Reflections of Dr. Joel Boone, Regimental Surgeon in the Great War

Editor’s Note.

This publication consists of an editor’s introduction and excerpts of an unpublished Navy physician’s memoir now in the collection of the Library of Congress. The passages excerpted are those of the narrator and do not reflect the official policies of the Navy Medical Department, U.S. Navy, and/or the Department of Defense today. Whenever possible we have added explanatory footnotes offering context to some of the persons and places mentioned by the narrator. The artwork and imagery in this publication, with few exceptions, are in the collections of the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery (BUMED), U.S. Marine Corps Historical Division, the Navy Historical and Heritage Command (NHHC), Navy Art Gallery, the National Museum of Health and Medicine, Navy Source, the National Museum of the Marine Corps, and the Wellcome Library.

Primary sources used in this publication: Boone, Joel T. Memoirs (Unpublished), Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. Boxes 44-46.

Acknowledgements.

We would like to thank Ms. Annette Amerman, Ms. Barbara DiPilla, Capt. Dora Lockwood, USN, ITCM James Leuci, USN, Ms. Pam Overman, and Ms. Joan Thomas for their assistance in this project. We would also like to thank the following proofreaders for lending their “keen eyes” to the project: Col. (ret.) Richard Ginn, MSC, USA, Mr. Jan K. Herman, and Mr. Michael Rhode.

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A Navy Surgeon “Over There”

Biography of Vice Adm. Joel Boone

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Introduction

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Part I: Quantico Days

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Part II: Boone’s First Detail

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Part III: An Interlude to the Front

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Part IV: In the Trenches of Verdun

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Part V: Navy Medicine at Belleau Wood

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APPENDIX

***

A. Boone Timeline

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B. Boone’s Awards and Citations

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C. Medical Roster of 6th Marine Regiment

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D. Navy Medical Valor Awards

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E. Casualty Statistics

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F. Marine Units in France

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G. Organization

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CONTENTS

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The Reflections of Dr. Joel Boone, Regimental Surgeon in the Great War

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Biography: Vice Admiral Joel Thompson Boone, Medical Corps, U.S. Navy

V

ice Adm. Joel Thompson Boone was born in St. Clair, Penn., on August 29, 1889, the son of William A. and Annie Thompson Boone. He graduated from Mercersburg Academy in Mercersburg, Penn., in 1909 and Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia, in June 1913. Appointed Lt., junior grade, in the Navy Medical Corps Reserves in April 1914, he transferred to the Regular Navy in that rank in May 1915. He advanced through all grades to Rear Admiral and upon retirement was advanced to the rank of Vice Admiral.

Lt. Boone trained and served at various posts including the Naval Hospital, Portsmouth, N.H.; the Naval Medical School, Washington, D.C.; and the Naval Training Station, Norfolk, Va. He also saw combat with Marine forces in Haiti in 1915.

Lt. Boone joined USS Wyoming in September 1916, and was serving on board when the U. S. entered World War I in April 1917. In August, he transferred to the 6th Regiment of Marines, Quantico, Va., and deployed with that unit in September, arriving in France in early October. There he served as Battalion and Regimental Surgeon, 6th Regiment, and then as Assistant Division Surgeon of the U.S. Army’s 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces.

On July 19, 1918 in Vierzy, France, while administering aid along the front lines at Soissons during the Aisne-Marne offensive, Lt. Boone put himself in extreme danger by leaving the relative safety of a ravine to help wounded Marines lying in the open field. He also made two heroic runs on a motorcycle for more emergency medical supplies during the day, dodging enemy fire at each step. He immediately returned to the battle each time to continue administering aid. For his extraordinary service, he received the Medal of Honor.

After the Armistice on November 11, 1918, Lt. Boone marched into Germany with the Army of Occupation for duty on the Rhine bridgeheads. In early 1919, he worked in the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, Navy Department, Washington, D.C., and as the Director of Naval Affairs, American Red Cross. From 1922 to 1933, he attended to Presidents Warren G. Harding, Calvin Coolidge, and Herbert Hoover. He completed a general postgraduate course at the Naval Medical School, Washington, D.C., in May 1933.

At the end of World War II, Rear Adm. Boone was one of three officers to liberate Allied Prisoners of War in Japan prior to the military occupation of that country. He was the Naval Medical Corps representative at the surrender ceremonies of the Japanese aboard USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay on September 2, 1945. In 1948, he served as the Executive Secretary of the Secretary of Defense’s Committee on Medical and Hospital Services of the Armed Forces. Simultaneously, he was the Secretary of the Medical Task Force of the 1st Commission on Organization of the Executive Branch of the Government, known as the Hoover Commission. While serving as General Inspector, Medical Department Activities in 1950, Rear Adm. Boone was ordered on a special mission to Japan and Korea during the Korean War by the Chief of Naval Operations, Adm. Forrest P. Sherman.

Rear Adm. Boone was placed on the permanent physical disability retired list on December 1, 1950. He was then appointed Chief Medical Director of the Veterans Administration on March 1, 1951, and served for the statutory term of four years.

Vice Adm. Boone died on April 2, 1974 and was buried in Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Va.

In addition to the Medal of Honor, Vice Adm. Boone received the Distinguished Service Cross, Silver Star Medal with five Oak Leaf Clusters, Bronze Star Medal with Combat “V,” Purple Heart Medal with two Oak Leaf Clusters, Haitian Campaign Medal, Marine Corps Expeditionary Medal, World War I Victory Medal with six battle stars, Army of Occupation in Germany Medal, a Letter of Commendation, Navy Commendation Medal, American Defense Service Medal with Fleet Clasp, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal with two bronze stars, American Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, Navy Occupation Campaign Medal, Korean Service Medal, United Nations Service Medal, National Defense Service Medal, and Korean Presidential Unit Citation Badge. He also received the French Officer of the Legion of Honor, Croix de Guerre with two palms, Order of the Fourragere (three awards), and Gold Medal of Honor and the Italian War Cross with Diploma.•

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“Service--self-sacrificing unselfish service--to country must be man’s richest privilege” ~ Vice Adm. Joel Boone, Medical Corps, USN

*** Introduction: A Navy Physician “Over There”

I

By André Baden Sobocinski, BUMED Historian

n 1955,1 after 41 years of federal service, Vice Adm. (ret) Joel T. Boone set forth on one last journey—an epic voyage into his own remarkable life. Each day Boone retreated into the time machine of personal memory and narrated his stories into a tape recorder.2 Over the next decade he recorded hundreds of hours of audio memoir as candid as the writings of U.S. Grant3 and entertaining as the recollections of Frank Harris (albeit without the exaggeration!)4 Like a Navy medical Zelig,5 Dr. Boone did it all; and like a Samuel Pepys6 centuries before, Boone documented all of it.

It is to the service of historians and service personnel alike that Boone spent those twilight years revisiting his past. Before his tenure in the civil service, Boone spent 36 years as a Navy physician7 establishing one of the most colorful, varied, and distinguished careers of anyone in military medicine. Boone was in Haiti during the occupation period, in France at the height of the Great War; later he served as the primary physician for three U.S. Presidents and established what would be known as the White House Medical Unit. In World War II he was one of three officers selected by Admiral William Halsey to liberate American Prisoners of War in Japan even before the surrender documents were signed, and represented the Navy Medical Department during those ceremonies on the deck of the USS Missouri. Post-war, Boone served as the medical director of the coal mine survey in 1946 and was responsible for the improvements of health and sanitary conditions in U.S. coal mining towns across the country. During the Korean War, while on active reserve duty, he championed the cause of casualty evacuation by helicopter and can be credited with refitting hospital ships with helo-decks.

1. Dr. Boone retired from the Navy in 1950 and served as the Director of Medical Services of the Veterans Administration until retiring from civil service in 1955.

2. Later transcribed by his daughter Suzanne, these unpublished recollections would be donated to the Library of Congress where they would encompass the “Joel T. Boone Papers.” Today this mammoth collection is contained in 92 Hollinger boxes at the LOC Manuscript Library.

3. Grant, Ulysses S. Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. New York: Charles L. Webster & Company, 1885–86 4. Frank Harris (1856-1931) was an editor and journalist famous for his stories and personal memoir as well as for his tall tales.

5. Character in eponymous 1983 mock-umentary with Woody Allen as man on the scene whenever history was being made.

6. Naval administrator in London noted today as the author of a very thorough diary (1660-1669).

7. Notes on Boone’s early life. Born on August 29, 1889 in the little coal-mining town of St. Clair, Penn., Boone grew up in humble circumstances. He worked on his father’s farm, and occasionally accompanied his uncle, a horse and buggy doctor, on house calls. He immersed himself in his schoolwork attending Pottsville High School for two years before being accepted at the prestigious Mercersburg Academy for his senior year. Upon graduation, Boone skipped undergraduate work and entered medical school at Hahnemann University in Philadelphia, Penn. (now known as Drexel College of Medicine). He served as an assistant to Dr. William Van Lennep (1853-1919), Hahnemann’s professor of surgery and spent the summers practicing obstetrics in poorer quarters of the Quaker City. During his internship Boone worked at a hospital emergency ward.

Nineteen fourteen was a banner year for Dr. Boone; he completed his internship, married his longtime sweetheart Helen Koch in June and then entered the Navy Reserves as a Lt. (junior Grade). It was customary for all physicians to enter the Navy Reserves; upon graduation from the six-month Navy Medical School Course in Washington, D.C. physicians had the option of obtaining a regular commission or staying in the Reserves. Back when physicians were low paid, a career in the Navy was considered stable. Boone would enter the regular Navy in 1915 upon graduation from the Navy Medical School in Washington, D.C., he reported to Naval Hospital Portsmouth, N.H., where served as the hospital’s acting “chief of medicine, chief of neuropsychiatry and assistant in the department of surgery.” He would deploy to Haiti during revolutionary uprising and serving at the Battle of Fort Riviere alongside Capt.. Smedley Butler. And in 1917, Boone would be among the first U.S. service personnel to go “Over There” in France.

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As we look back at the centennial of the First World War, we take this opportunity to present a sliver of Boone’s personal experiences from what was arguably the most transformative period in his life. Boone entered World War I an unknown and untested medical officer feeling his way in the dark of military protocol and procedures; after the war Boone was celebrated as an experienced war physician, a veteran of Verdun and Belleau Wood, and a recipient of the Medal of Honor and Distinguished Service Cross. For the rest of his life, Boone would be that “hero doctor of the Great War,” a distinction he carried with great humility. He would never forget his humble beginnings in the coal mining town of St. Clair, Penn., his experiences as a budding physician making house calls in the slums of Philadelphia, or the family, friends and mentors that helped guide him along the way. His memoir serves not as a monument to grandstanding or narcissism, but is an introspective and sincere narrative of a gentleman born of a now distant age. In Boone’s world, history’s forgotten Sailors, Marines and lay civilians are put on equal footing with the many dignitaries he knew personally. When he speaks of his accomplishments he talks of the unsung individuals that made them possible. In retreating from the spotlight his character shines brightest.

Boone had been in the Navy for almost three years when the United States declared war on Germany in April 1917. Like many of his Navy medical brethren, Boone would deploy to France with the United States Marine Corps under the auspices of American Expeditionary Forces. In World War I, Navy Medical personnel served in the 5th and 6th Marine Regiments and the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, all components of the famous 4th Marine Brigade, the most highly decorated unit in the war. The 331 Navy medical officers and Hospital Corpsmen alone of the 4th Brigade would earn a total of 684 decorations and combat awards. Boone would be among this distinguished pantheon, and one of only seven medical officers serving in the 4th Brigade’s 6th Regiment.

Those medical personnel with the Marine Brigade in France would face the unimaginable realities of trench warfare—trench foot, disease, vermin, the complete absence of the most rudimentary hygiene, and the terrifying results of gas warfare—mustard, phosgene, and chlorine. Whether in the trenches or in makeshift field hospitals (usually set-up in abandoned farmhouses and wine cellars), Boone would tend to the effects of the first modern war—shrapnel, blast injuries, high projectile wounds, and post-traumatic stress disorder’s antecedent, “Shell Shock.”

In his memoir, Boone describes it all—the battlefields, the boarding houses, and the boredom of war; the field hospitals, camaraderie, the close-calls, and journeys into the unknown. He describes preparation for war, the field medical training at the newly established Marine Corps Base Quantico. He recalls the larger than life people he served with and met—Gen. Pershing, Col. Catlin, and the less well known Lt. Cmdr. Lester Pratt, and Hospital Corpsmen John Litchfield and Fred Shaffner; the latter two individuals make the ultimate sacrifice in France.

In this monograph we have excerpted part of his “Great War” reflections born in moments of deep introspection and covering the period from his Quantico days (August 1917) through the Battle of Belleau Wood (June 1918). We have added explanatory footnotes, deleted redundant words and transposed various sentences when necessary, but have left his words as true as when he first recorded them. Certain passages deemed tangential or disruptive to teh narrative flow have been repurposed as sidebars or removed outright.

It should be mentioned that Boone never published his memoirs and to this day they remain one of many hidden treasures at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C., available only to those researchers equipped with curiosity and persistence.

We use this monograph as an opportunity to celebrate this medical officer’s life while looking back at the stepping stones Navy Medicine made during the modern age’s first World War. We hope you will enjoy this very human journey from Quantico to “Over There.”•

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Quantico Days

Navy camp hospital at the Marine Corps Base Quantico, 1917 Courtesy of Marine Corps History Division

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O

n August 29, 1917, I reported at the Marine Corps Barracks, Quantico, Va., for duty. I was assigned to the 1st Battalion of the 6th Regiment which was preparing for overseas duty. I was entering a new world when I reached Quantico, one quite in contrast to that in which I had lived aboard Wyoming.1 The station was in early stages of development. There was a great deal of mud on the roadways and the paths leading to various buildings, most of which were just wooden shacks. I was assigned first to have quarters in the dispensary, to approach which I had to climb over a lot of duckboards and improvised, it seemed, bridges. There were more khaki-clad men in one place than I had ever seen in my life before.

It was heartwarming to see how many young men were responding to the colors and in training at this rapidly developing Marine Corps base. At Quantico there was much contrast to what I had seen in Haiti in serving with the Marines. Here there were more systematic administrative procedures and better organization. Immediately, I felt a

part of a very large unit and one, which was being prepared for duty overseas.

I donned a khaki uniform as quickly as possible, because in all the dust and the mud of Quantico I realized my blue Navy uniform was out of place.

The Commanding Officer of the 1st Marine Battalion of the 6th Regiment was Major John Hughes3 who was a tall, slender, very military looking officer. I learned that Lt. Cmdr. Wrey G. Farwell,4 MC, U.S. Navy, had been assigned as the Regimental Surgeon of the 6th Marines. When I reported, he was on a temporary mission to Washington, and I did not get to meet him until the following day.

I donned a khaki uniform as quickly as possible, because in all the dust and the mud of Quantico I realized my blue Navy uniform was out of place. While there was a lot of dust at Quantico, it really was a quagmire in August 1917 with many duckboards laid indiscriminately over the reservation for foot transit.

The dispensary was up on the side of a hill and buttressed up on stilts. After a few days I was reassigned from a requirement to sleep in the dispensary to a tent down on the Potomac River bank with a number of the officers of the 1st Battalion. Then I joined the mess down there in a tent of that battalion.

There was a fairly good and new hotel up on one of the hills from the main street. Mrs. Boone5 visited me, but we young people could not afford to live at the hotel. She stayed in Washington and I made attempts to go by train [to see her].

Doctor Farwell returned to Quantico the day after my reporting there. We had a long discussion and he indoctrinated me into what he foresaw would be my duties as the Battalion Surgeon of the 1st Battalion. He stated that it was the intention when more medical officers were assigned that I would act as his Executive Officer and senior assistant.

I recognized earlythat the Hospital Corpsmen assigned to my battalion were new and green. They might be fine young men, but they knew nothing of military and were

1. Boone served aboard USS Wyoming (BB-32) from September 1916 until August 1917.

2. Quantico Marine Corps base opened in May 1917.

3. Major (later Lt. Col.) John Arthur Hughes (1880-1942) served as battalion commander for 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, and saw combat with that unit at Belleau Wood (June 1918) for which he received the Navy Cross and at Soissons (July 1918). Promoted to Lt..Col. on 1 July 1918, he was gassed in September 1918 during the Saint-Mihiel offensive, which forced him to return to the U.S. Eventually, Lt.Col Hughes’ wounds led to his medical retirement on July 31, 1919. (source: https://www.mcu.usmc.mil/historydivision/) 4. Surgeon Wrey Gilmor Farwell (1882-1939) would later be awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for “extraordinary heroism in action while serving as Medical Officer (Attached), 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, A.E.F., in the Bois-de-Belleau, France, June 6, 1918. Lt. Commander Farwell voluntarily exceeded the demand of duty by personally supervising the evacuation of his wounded commanding officer across a field under fire from machine guns and snipers.”

5. Helen Elizabeth Koch Boone (1889-1977).

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absolutely foreign to their military environment. From a large number of Hospital Corpsmen at the Marine Corps Barracks Dispensary, I was permitted to select the Hospital Corps increment by individuals whom I wished to have assigned to the 1st Battalion. Subsequently, as time passed, I wondered if I had erred in some selectees. I learned during my Navy career that frequently inexperienced Corpsmen whom you could indoctrinate almost from beginning, turned out to be better Corpsmen than ones who have been poorly indoctrinated early in their careers and certainly were, if you trained them, more suitable to your requirements.

Medical Director von Wedekind6 reported at Quantico soon after I did. We learned that he had been selected and designated to command Naval Hospitals in Europe which would be behind the Marine forces. To assign Naval Hospitals directly with the Marines was a misconception of the organization as we learned when we got to France. We were unaware that the Marines would become a part of an Army Division and would be part and parcel of that organization, except with their own Brigade Commander who initially was a Marine Brigadier, and we also learned as

time went on that we were to have Army Field Hospitals in support of and a part of our Division [See Appendix G].

It was a real pleasure after I had been at Quantico a few days to see Captain Campbell,7 who had been my Commanding Officer when I served with the 13th Company in northern Haiti through much of the fighting up there. He and I had gone to Haiti together with the Artillery Battalion.

My experiences at Quantico prior to our departure were very informative and laid the groundwork for my service with the Marines who were to go abroad. The 1st Battalion entrained at Quantico for the trip to Philadelphia and the League Island Navy Yard8 where we were to board the marine transport Henderson.9 It was the first Naval ship in our Navy built as a marine transport and for special service to provide overseas transportation for Marine components. She was a sister ship of the hospital ship Relief,10 which was then under construction at Philadelphia, which was the first hospital ship ever constructed by our government from the keel up for the purpose of serving as a hospital ship. The other ships in the past had been converted ships of one sort or another for hospital

usage. The engines for the Relief were farther along in construction than were the Henderson’s during the building operations of both.

Therefore, when the transport was urgently required to transport Marines overseas, the engines from the Relief were placed into the hull of the Henderson. Strangely, I had subsequent opportunities to serve aboard the Henderson on another historic occasion which will be narrated in these memoirs, and also served aboard the hospital ship Relief in subsequent years.

We had such a large contingency of Marines sailing from League Island Navy Yard on the Henderson that there was not sufficient berthing space aboard the ship.

The Henderson sailed from League Island on September 16, 1917. Mrs. Boone was at the Navy Yard to see me sail.

An interesting incident occurred many years later. I introduced Mrs. Boone to a General Harold Thomas at a social function at the Marine Barracks in Washington, D.C. After I had introduced General Thomas to Mrs. Boone, he said, “I have seen you before, but never met you.”

We both said, “When did that occur?”

He said, “Strangely, it occurred just before the transport Henderson

6. Medical Director Luther Lochman von Wedekind (1864-1935).

7. Capt. (later Brigadier General) Chandler Campbell (1880-1957).

8. League Island was located at the confluence of the Delaware and Schuylkill Rivers in Philadelphia. It served as the home of the Philadelphia Navy Yard from 1871 through 1995.

9. USS Henderson (AP-1) served as a troop transport in World War I. The ship was named after General Archibald Henderson, a U.S. Marine who had served aboard USS Constitution during the War of 1812. In 1943, Henderson was converted to a Navy hospital ship named USS Bountiful.

10. Remarkably, USS Relief (AH-1) was the only U.S. Navy ship constructed from the hull up to serve as a hospital ship. It was completed in 1921.

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Troop transport USS Henderson (AP-1) in 1917.

Courtesy of National Archives and Records Adminstration

left League Island to go overseas in September 1917. At that time I was a private in the Marines and, standing up on the forecastle, I saw Admiral Boone kissing you, Mrs. Boone, good-bye prior to the sailing of the Henderson.�

When I said good-bye to Mrs. Boone on the dock at League Island, I realized that it would be for a very long period of time before we would see each other again, and I was even secretly aware that we could never see each other again.

The ship did not sail directly across the Atlantic, as we expected, but went into the New York harbor area near Staten Island to remain there for several days as a rendezvous point for the assemblage of many transports, all to go in one convoy at that particular time.

Mrs. Boone learning that we were off Staten Island, came there and procured a room in the town on Staten Island. It was possible for me to go ashore for overnight while we

were in that area of anchor. Each morning when I left our rooming house, I would kiss her good-bye and expecting that I would not return again. For several days this was pursued. I would get back and forth from the ship to our rooming house. However, one day our separation actually occurred which was to last for a long period of time.

The ship sailed without forewarning and when the convoy had been formed, we headed toward France.

On the 19th of September when we left our anchorage at Staten Island, we literally thought that we were headed to France, but it was not correct, as we were changing our anchorage, cruising about, and then going to another anchorage designated for our place in the formation of the large convoy of which the Henderson was to be a part. We actually did not get out to sea until Sunday, September 23.

After we set forth headed across the Atlantic, we found that a

number of Marines would have to roll up in their blankets and sleep on the decks, but they were under cover, as they slept opposite the living quarters and had an overhead portion of the deck to protect them from the weather; however, it was very rough going across the Atlantic and we had a lot of rain. In fact, we had tremendous storms at night, which drove the sleepers who were out on the deck to scatter and find some sleeping space anywhere possible inside the ship, many times only after they had been well drenched as they lay on the open deck. The cruise for some days being very rough, we had a great deal of seasickness, and I suffered severely with it myself but kept going because there were so many people to take care of who I felt were worse off than I was. At every opportunity, I would hit my bunk to get into a reclining position.

On the way across the Atlantic we had daily drills: fire, abandon ship, man overboard, and there were innumerable calls to General Quarters. This period, however, gave me an opportunity to organize my medical department and indoctrinate the personnel in the ways of the Navy and Marine Corps, as much as I could foresee it, in a new enterprise. •

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Comrades-in-Arms: Schaffner and Litchfield

T

he personnel of the Navy, medical and dental officers and Hospital Corpsmen, had to become an integral part of the Marine Corps, but we never lost our “naval identity� all the time we served with them overseas, and we were paid from Navy appropriations and through Marine Corps paymasters from Navy funds. We Navy personnel had been fitted out with Marine Corps clothes before we left Quantico and were issued all the duplicating equipment, except for arms and ammunition, as were the Marines.

When I had an opportunity aboard the ship to look over my Hospital Corpsmen in group formation, I thought I had made some errors in selecting certain personnel to be a part of the 1st Battalion.1 As a matter of fact, as I looked at certain ones, I wondered why in the world I ever selected that one or this one, particularly if they looked physically unfit for field service.

Some looked puny and underdeveloped, poor physical specimens.

Also, I doubted the mental compe-

tency of some of them and questioned in my mind how they would have enough mentality to absorb the knowledge necessary for such a mission as we were set forth upon and to learn well the ways of the Navy and Marine Corps. I shuddered when I thought of some of them going into battle on missions of mercy and being required to face up to the enemy, as would be required of Hospital Corpsmen as I readily foresaw it, just as much as it would be for the Marines in battle.

I remember two youngsters in their teens particularly, who impressed me very unfavorably.2 One was a skinny, undernourished, sallow, puny-looking youngster who did not seem very alert and not endowed with much intelligence. The other Corpsman was an overgrown rosy-cheeked, curlyhaired, baby-faced boy, physically developed, but to me looked of immature mentality. I was to learn after we got into the battle area that I had misjudged these youngsters, [and] failed to recognize real character and their qualities of

dedication and their superb courage. For when we went into battle, the rosy-cheeked boy [Fred Charles Schaffner]3 who was so immature looking, although fully developed physically, early in April [1918] demonstrated a great dedication and absolute selflessness. The company to which he was assigned was caught in a ravine early in the morning in a driving rain, affecting a relief of other Marines in line in the Verdun area, and when this company became drenched with mustard gas shells, this young man performed a most heroic and self-sacrificing act. The other Hospital Corpsman of whom I erred in appraisement of him was the one I have described as undernourished, puny, sallow, and with no evidence of alertness and rather, looking at me, rather stupid. After we got to France in the base billeting area, I believe it was Bordeaux, and ever after that, I found this youngster always busy, rather in a sense a lone wolf, but always doing something or somebody and to improve in one way or another the billeting and

1. The 6th Regiment was formed in Quantico, Va., in July 1917. It was comprised of three battalions and a headquarters contingent. In September 1917, the 1st Battalion was the first component of the Regiment to sail for France.

2. In September 1917, Boone and members of the 1st Battalion, 6th Regiment sailed from Philadelphia aboard USS Henderson, disembarking at St. Nazaire, France. The trip provided Boone the chance to assess the skills of some of the Corpsmen he had selected to serve in the 1st Battalion. Unfortunately, being the strict perfectionist Regimental Surgeon and veteran of Marine Artillery Battalion in Haiti he was, Boone began to have some doubts about two of his sailors, raw recruits who were still new to the ways of the Navy. Years later when recollecting his memories of service, he admitted that he had misjudged these two young men, Fred C. Schaffner and John R. Litchfield. To Boone, their dedication represented the very best qualities of military service.

3. See pages 39-40 for more on Schaffner.

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living spaces and the sick quarters for his comrades. He was never a loafer. His energetic and satisfactory way to meet and be helpful was on his record after there had been an opportunity to appraise his industry. As time went on and we got into the battle areas, he was very popular among the officers and men of the company to which he was attached.

They reported that he was fearless and would go beyond the strict confines of duty in order to render service. I was informed that he prowled around on the battlefield at night and day to rescue and treat the wounded. He would go out beyond the front lines into no man’s land seeking wounded at night by himself. During the St. Mihiel battle this boy went beyond the front lines to bring back to safety seriously wounded and in this selfless act he was killed at Thiaucourt while doing so. A destroyer escort of the United States Navy was named the Litchfield for this young man, John R. Litchfield.3 In naming this ship for a Hospital Corpsman, the Navy surely paid a tribute to all Hospital Corpsmen wherever they have served.

With deep regret and sadly, I realized that I had early failed in the appraisement of two very courageous men.•

PhM3c John Litchfield, gone before his time.

Courtesy of Navy Source

4. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class John Russell Litchfield (Born in March 7, 1899 in Flanagan, Ill. and died on September 15, 1918) was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross, Distinguished Service Cross, and two Silver Stars. In 1919, the Torpedo Boat Destroyer USS Litchfield was named in his honor.

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Boone’s First Detail

U.S. Marine disembarking from USS Henderson at St. Nazaire, 1917 Courtesy of Marine Corps History Division

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U

pon approaching St. Nazaire we were escorted by the French Navy to berth us along the docks. Our trip was without incident and very successfully accomplished, many precautionary measures being taken by our commanding officer. While I was fully aware of the danger which we were exposed, I was not apprehensive at all, and for the most part felt confident of our safe arrival. It was cold early in the morning as we approached St. Nazaire.

Within a few days after the Henderson was unloaded, we were assigned to a camp on the outskirts of the city. The officers and men were assigned to barracks.

Bathing facilities were very crude and in the open without cover, but only sidings. It was so cold that we would have to make a dive, as it were, from our barrack building across the compound to the shower facility. It was a very improvised one and, of course, we had to use cold water, as there was no facility for heating water.

The barracks to which the officers were assigned was a large open room. We all had cots assigned to us. There were two rows facing each other, placed along the walls parallel to them. We had no privacy in our living accommodations, but it made for a very close companionship and for getting well acquainted with one another. With the passage of time the barracks was improved and we were assigned

single rooms with a central gathering point in the neighboring barracks for the purposes of recreation and messing.

I learned here how quickly Marines were trained to settle down and become perfectly adjusted to any environment.

It was at St. Nazaire that I was exposed to the scale on which war is fought. St. Nazaire seemed to be a stupendous base and a great logistic support facility for not only this area but for forward areas.

I learned here how quickly Marines were trained to settle down and become perfectly adjusted to any environment.

The battalion dispensary was set up in a separate wooden barracks, at one end of which was the treatment and dressing station, and the other end for the Hospital Corpsmen to sleep.

Training and drilling were extensive while at St. Nazaire. The Marines, much to their unhappiness, were sent to build docks and, later, reservoirs. This was hard for them to comprehend when they had come over here, they thought, to fight a war. For myself, I felt it was a very vital training period for both the medical and dental officers assigned with me and the Hospital Corpsman. I took special pains to find wholesome recreation oppor-

tunities for those serving with me in the medical department. I wanted to know each and every physician and dentist and Corpsman well and feel a very intimate part of their lives in preparation for when we moved into the battle area. The association and friendships made then and through the actual fighting period of the war are among the most memorable for me in human relationships. We all became acquainted. They knew me and I knew them well, and it was here in the early days that we began to forge a cooperative and coordinated team. We learned to think together and not just as individuals.

I soon recognized that many of the [local] customs [in St. Nazaire], were familiar to me, as I found them in Haiti. We were surprised to find the uniforms worn in St. Nazaire of non-descript variety. It would seem that all males except for old men and young children wore uniforms.1 For the first time I saw German and Austrian prisoners working in St. Nazaire, and I learned that they were well fed and seemed to be contented with their prisoner life.

I was fascinated with the French women in St. Nazaire area. They always looked clean. They wore stiffly starched little headdresses with starch bordered lace, and they had the rosiest complexions.

About mid-October Major Hughes,2 Turner,3 and some of the other officers of our battalion

1. Some 8.4 million Frenchmen between the ages of 20 and 45 would serve in World War I. Of this number, 6.1 million or 70 percent would be killed or wounded in action. (Source: http://www.pbs.org/greatwar/resources/casdeath_pop.html) 2. Maj. (later Col.) John Arthur Hughes (1880-1942) was already a recipient of the Medal of Honor and veteran of Vera Cruz and Dominican campaigns before commanding the 1st Battalion, 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, A.E.F. He would receive the Navy Cross for actions in Belleau Wood.

3. Maj. (later Col.) Thomas Caldwell Turner (1881-1931) was a Marine Aviator and recipient of the Medal of Honor for service in Haiti. Turner is the namesake of the Turner Airfield at the Quantico Marine Corps Base.

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were ordered to take a course in a town called Gondrecourt4 at a United States Army School. I saw my brother officers of the 1st Battalion off on the train. I was very much amused by the station and the trains. The latter reminded me of the miniature one I used to play with as a child. The engine, the cars, and entire train [were] so small they are ridiculous looking in comparison to our luxurious trains in the States. The engines reminded me of the little locomotives that I was so familiar with at our collieries back home. Each coach I saw was a separate unit and not connected so that you could go from one to another. They were connected for operation, but you could not pass from one car to the other car, but had to get off at each station if you wanted to go to another car or if you wished to go into the diner, you would have to get off at a station, then enter the diner car after you had left the car in which you have been traveling.

About this time while we were in St. Nazaire, we read in the French papers the announcement that our General Pershing had been promoted to a 4-star General.5 He had come to France as a 2-star General.

His promotion gave us a great sense of pride and we knew it would add very much to his prestige in his relations with the French military people, and with the French citizenry as a whole.

Becoming restless at St. Nazaire with the routine and with the Marines building docks and reservoirs, I had a strong urge to get to the

Comrades-in-Arms: Sgt. Sidney Colford

S

idney Colford,1 who had the rating of a sergeant in the Marines, was a very rich New Yorker and had been recruited, or volunteered, as an interpreter. He was assigned to our battalion He was a most amusing fellow and a very delightful companion. He had traveled a great deal and had lived on an elaborate scale for most of the time in New York. I remember so well coming across on the Henderson of an amusing incident he narrated. He had to go in the chow line with the other enlisted men and he said that the cook would always dip his hand in the great big pot of mashed potatoes and throw them from his hand onto the little plates that each enlisted man had to carry. There was a protest one time from the sergeant, a senior

sergeant I guess, when he saw the cook handling food with his hands, particularly the potatoes and throwing them on the plates. The next time, Colford said, he went through the line, he noticed that he stood waiting in formation, that the cook had a ladle, so he thought there were really going to have a very proper kind of service. Instead of that, the cook dug his hand into the mashed potatoes, threw a handful of potatoes onto the ladle, then emptied the ladle onto the mess kit pan.

Colford was an excellent linguist. He could speak French, Arabic, Spanish, and Italian. He was very generous with his money and would take us to town and entertain us whenever it was possible for us to have a period off from the camp. He later was the husband of one of the Vanderbilt ladies of New York. •

1. Sgt. Sidney Jones Colford Jr. (1885-1951) served as a Sous-Chef with Headquarters Company, 6th Regiment. He was a recipient of Silver Stars for distinguished service at the Battles of Belleau Wood and Chateau Thierry. Colford married Cathleen Vanderbilt, former wife of Reginald Claypoole Vanderbilt.

front as soon as possible, particularly when I knew that some of my comrades of the 1st Battalion were going off to school in northern France. On October 16th, I wrote a letter through channels asking to be detailed to the Sanitary School

at Gondrecourt. I noted on my request, “Regimental Surgeon detailed me to come with the 1st Battalion in advance of the remainder of the organization, so that I might obtain all the available information which would be of value to the Bu-

4. Gondrecourt or Gondrecourt-le-Chateau is a municipal commune located in the Meuse Department in northeastern France. It was the home of the U.S. Army infantry school during World War I. 5. In September 1917, Pershing was promoted to General of the U.S. Army.

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reau of Medicine and Surgery and the regimental organization. Upon the arrival of the entire regiment, it is the Regimental Surgeon’s plan to have me act as his Executive or Adjutant.

My request to go to Gondrecourt, where I thought there was a sanitary school was approved. I left St. Nazaire on October 25th by train and it was a much better looking train than the one that I had seen with my brother Marine officers.

The compartment that I had was attractive and I found that I had some companions in it; very attractive French woman, well dressed and several French Army officers, all wearing different uniforms. Uniforms predominated over civilian attire for the males over here in France.

I arrived in Paris the evening of my departure from St. Nazaire.

The food on the train was delicious and required considerable time to eat one meal. The steward would bring a stack of plates and serve one course at a time which were about eight. It was a great delight to look out of the windows at the beautiful passing scenes of rural France.

In the fields were mostly women and old men with a few children helping their elders. I did not see any middle-aged men whatsoever because they were now all serving in the armed forces in one capacity or another. The scenery as we travelled was very lovely. It seems so strange to see so many people here in uniform, in contrast to what I saw when I left the United States.

In Paris I was able to read The

London Times6 and saw a most interesting article called, “The American Soldiers in France.” This article was very praiseful of General Pershing and said he was a man that could not be hurried; there was no use to try to hurry him. He was made for thorough preparation and thought things to a conclusion before he acted. And once he had acted, he was firm in his decision, and he was not one to be pushed around, and would pursue his decisions, even against considerable strong opposition to him. He set a goal and he pursued his quest to reach it.

Upon reaching Gondrecourt, I found no sanitary school established there, nothing but an infantry school. My heart was very depressed because I looked forward to having the course at the sanitary school and wishing to remain in this part of France with my brother officers who had gone [from] there to the line school.

I was first directed to the camp for billeting purposes, but, looking over the drab provisions for living, I decided to find a place in town and rent a room. I found a very comfortable home where I could be billeted with a fine old French couple, at least I thought they were old because I was at the time only 28 years of age myself. I felt also by living with a French family I could improve my conversational ability.

This family could speak no English whatsoever. It was constituted of husband and wife and married daughter who had two children, five years and one of two months.

They could not have been more hospitable or kinder to me. They made me as comfortable as possible and gave me extra bedding, provided for me in the afternoons, tried to provide me extra heat, but I had to go out and purchase a stove myself for my bedroom. It was very, very cold in northern France and very wet. It was the worst that I had ever seen. I was reminded of Sargent’s poem, “The Rain, The Hail, and The Mud.”7 It seems to have been raining there continuously until snow came. We had to wear rubber high-laced shoes and hob-nailed shoes with double heavy woolen socks. The care of feet was most essential, as one can get what we call “trench feet”8 very readily.

When one acquires trench feet, it is very obstinate to rid himself of it. It carries very readily.

I ate with the officers in a barrack building without any floors and the mud was almost ankle deep. We sat at long tables with planks nailed to the legs of the tables and tried to sit very close together in order to keep warm. If we didn’t dangle our feet and let them rest on the ground, they would be sunk in the mud and almost frozen in a very short period of time. We ate very rapidly because our food became cold almost as soon as it was placed on the table. The mess hall was about a half a mile from where I lived down in the village. I had to be in and have breakfast at 6:30 in the morning, which meant a very early rise in the cold, cold room, and only cold water with which to wash.

6. The Times, often referred to as The London Times, this newspaper was a popular source of news for Boone.

7. Boone may be referring to the 19th century American poet Epes Sargent or a poem that made the rounds on the frontlines.

8. Trench foot or immersion foot is a condition caused by prolonged exposure to the mud and damp conditions often found in trenches. If the condition persisted and left untreated it could lead to fungal infections and ultimately gangrene.

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Members of the Marine Corps 4th Brigade show that they are ready for combat in France, ca. 1917 Courtesy of U.S. Marine Corps History Division

As soon as I reported as one of the students for the infantry school, I was issued a Springfield rifle for drilling purposes. I had never had a Springfield rifle in my hand.9 As a matter of fact, I never owned a gun and had never done any hunting as a boy or as a young man. This one came out of a packing box with a lot of other rifles and was covered in Vaseline called cosmoline to protect it for packing purposes. Of course, this heavy, sticky cosmoline had to be cleaned off and it took a lot of hard work to remove it from the rifle. I worked very assiduously on mine whenever the opportunity presented itself. I cleaned and polished and polished and cleaned by the hour. We would drill in close

order formation in the open field in all kinds of weather. In fact, we had to wear high rubber boots when we drilled. We were forewarned that there would be formal inspection on a certain Saturday. We were sternly drilled by a British Sergeant Major. He was a very rigid disciplinarian but he was a wonderful drillmaster, as stern as he was, a very impressive-looking soldier figure.

The squad to which I was assigned consisted of Marine officers from my Marine battalion. Major Hughes, our battalion commander, was the squad leader. We met a number of other squads, but they were all composed of Army officers.

When the great day for our inspection arrived, it had been

pouring rain the day before and there were huge puddles of water on the field where we had to drill to be inspected. I can see vividly an Army colonel riding on a white horse come through the fields and up toward the Sergeant Major. He was saluted by the Sergeant Major and escorted to the student formation. The colonel stood there and watched us being drilled quite a while. The Sergeant Major certainly put us through our paces, including innumerable evolutions. He seemed to take delight in having us do an about-face when we stood in the deepest puddle. My place in line was alongside Major Stowell10 who was over six feet and weighed about 250 pounds; my height being

9. Springfield model 1903 bolt-action rifles were issued to U.S. Marines in World War I. The Springfield name refers to the Springfield Armory in Springfield, Massachusetts where they wer emanufactured. Owing to their short supply, the Enfield Model 1917 rifle was issued to most of the Army troops in World War I. Sgt. Alvin York used one during his Medal of Honor exploits.

10. Maj. (later Lt.. Col.) George Andrew Stowell (1889-1937) was a veteran of the Haitian occupation and member of the 6th Marine Regiment in France.

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5’ 6” and weight about 130 pounds.

Whenever we did this about-face, this big-footed Marine officer beside me turned so violently that he would give me a shower of muddy water. I was a sight to behold for inspection. When the colonel came down the line and as we stood with “present arms” and then properly for the inspection of individual rifles, he grabbed mine so viciously—and my feet were stuck in the mud—that I almost fell forward in the mud. When he returned my weapon to me even more violently—the little fellow that I was—I was knocked almost over backward into the mud.

At the conclusion of the inspection were dismissed to return to our barracks. Major Hughes had been retained by the inspecting colonel, and the rest of us were so tired that we stretched out on our bunks in the barracks. It wasn’t long before Major Hughes returned to the door of the barracks. He addressed us officers with loud and violent profanity and told us to get out there and stand in formation.

He then said he had never been so insulted, and he being a Marine as he was, by an inspecting colonel of the Army who upbraided the Major in a most critical vein of the officers in his formation.

The colonel told him, much to Hughes’ disgust, that the only officer in his squad who was reasonably clean and had a very clean rifle was that “little s.o.b. of a doctor.”

Of course, I was silently puffed

up, naturally, but I regretted that the comparison reflected on my brother officers in the squad. I had devoted many hours to polishing and shining up my Springfield, and this incident surely proved to me that it “paid off.”

Just about the termination of the course at Gondrecourt I contracted an influenzal infection and after a few days in my bed in the home of the French [family] in Gondrecourt, I sought hospitalization at the Johns Hopkins Hospital at Bazoilles,11 which was south of Neufchateau. It was thought also when I left Gondrecourt that there was a sanitary school at Johns Hopkins.

That turned out not to be the case.

As soon as I was well enough to travel and the physicians at the hospital felt that I could be released from further treatment in the hospital, I received orders to continue on my way back to the regiment, so I took a train and went from Neufchateau12 to Bordeaux where the Marines were encamped.

I found [that] when I arrived some more Marine units over and above the 1st Battalion had come from the States. The colonel of our regiment, Colonel Albertus W. Catlin,13 with his staff had arrived during my absence. As I had considerable indoctrination at the school at Gondrecourt, particularly in trench and gas warfare, Colonel Catlin directed me to hold classes for his staff members and the members of my battalion.

Upon reporting at Neufcha-

COL. (later Brig. Gen.) Albertus Wright Catlin, USMC (1868-1933) served as the commander of the 6th Marine Division. Catlin was later wounded in Belleau Wood on June 6th, 1918.

Courtesy of U.S. Marine Corps History Division

teau I found Farwell had arrived with Colonel Catlin and he had reassured me that I would be the Assistant Regimental Surgeon of the 6th Marine Regiment. He was very anxious to learn all he could of my doings in his absence and was very pleased with the organization as we had established it in France and of the fact that I had gone off to school, taking advantage of every opportunity to acquire as much knowledge that would be beneficial to our regiment and especially to the medical department of it. •

11. Organized at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Md. in 1916, the Army Unit mobilized in May 1917 and established Base Hospital 18 at Chateau Bazoilles in Bazoilles-sur-Meuse (Department of Vosges, northeastern France). From August 1917 through January 1919, the hospital staff treated 14,179 medical and surgical cases.

12. Commune in Vosges Department located at the confluence of the rivers Meuse and Mouzon (northeastern France).

13. Col. (later Brig. Gen.) Albertus Wright Catlin (1868-1933) served as the commander of the 6th Marine Division. Catlin was later wounded in Belleau Wood on June 6th, 1918.

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An Interlude to the Front Chief Pharmacist’s Mate George G. Strott (L) and Pharmacist Leon French (R) would serve alongside Dr. Boone in the 6th Marine Regiment.

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W

hile at Bordeaux I was assigned a motorcycle and a sidecar, a very useful provision for me to get around and to make inspections into various dressing stations and to make inspections into various areas where we had Marine personnel. It also provided some recreation and opportunities to travel far beyond the areas that I was able to walk on hikes. Later the sidecar and motorcycle1 became an essentiality when we got up into the combat and the training areas and the forward regions, except when we were actually engaged very far forward [where] there were no roads. [Motorcycles]became almost indispensable to those of us who had medical responsibilities with the troops. Of course, messengers used them a great deal At Bordeaux I was joined by the first Warrant Officer of the Hospital Corps [to serve with the 6th Regiment] Leon W. French.2 [He was] called a “Pharmacist” which did not connote that he was a pharmacist as the word seemed to indicate. This was merely a title for his warrant rank. Because he was the only warrant we had, he was the senior of he Hospital Corps group in the regiment.

Next to him in point of senior-

ity was Chief Pharmacist’s Mate George G. Strott3 who was a very able, very dedicated, very conscientious, very hard working young man with tremendous enthusiasm

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at Bordeaux was a period for reflection, yet my comrades in the 6th Regiment made it a very delightful period except for the heartache of separation from their own country and from loved ones back home. and of a nature that almost bubbled over, as it were. He certainly demonstrated that he had no use for the “clock-watcher,” as he would work around the clock if there was work to be done. He was an excellent clerical man, as well as a very courageous man in the field in combat areas.

I had a very high regard for both [of] these men. French left us after we had been in the Vosges area and Strott then became the senior pharmacist’s mate of the entire regiment. He worked assiduously on trying to keep records of sickness

and injury and the casualties of the war, but maintaining records after he got beyond the training areas was out of the question and all of our records had to be sent back to a storage depot and we never saw them after that.

On December 13th, 1917, while at Bordeaux we found [out] through some European editions of newspapers [about the] sinking of the destroyer Jacob Jones.4 Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at Bordeaux was a period for reflection, yet my comrades in the 6th Regiment made it a very delightful period except for the heartache of separation from their own country and from loved ones back home. All of us from the 6th Regiment at Bordeaux made the best [of it] and we really had a delightful day, as it turned out. Many of us attended a Christmas service in the YMCA hut, which had been arranged and conducted by our Regimental Chaplain. Again we were provided with a very delicious Christmas dinner of turkey and all the combination edibles to which we were accustomed to in our own country, and our Christmas dinner period was a very happy and gala sociable occasion.

It seemed quite strange for us that the last day of January down

1. According to automobile historian Albert Mroz, Harley-Davidson and Indian Motorcycle Company each contributed more than 15,000 motorcycles for the war effort. Most had sidecars and were used for courier work, transporting personnel and in some cases as “mini-ambulances.” (Source: Mroz, Albert. American Cars, Trucks, and Motorcycles of World War I: Illustrated Histories of 225 Manufacturers. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc. 2010).

2. Chief Pharmacist Leon H. French (1888-1954) spent 38 years in the Navy retiring in 1946 as a Lt. Cmdr. in the Hospital Corps. French was an original member of the 6th Marine Regiment. Since first appearing in the Navy in 1898, Hospital Corps Warrant Officer like French served in medical administrative roles at hospitals and in the field. The title “Pharmacist” was oftentimes a misnomer.

3. Chief Pharmacist’s Mate George G. Strott (1894-1953) would later serve as an editor with The Hospital Corps Quarterly in World War II and compile the seminal history, The Medical Department of the United States Navy with the Army and Marine Corps in France in World War I: Its Functions and Employment. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1947.

4. USS Jacob Jones (DD-61) was a Tucker-Class destroyer built for World War I. She was torpedoed by a German submarine off the coast of France on December 6, 1917 losing 64 Sailors in her complement.

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Due to a bureaucratic error, Dr. Boone was sent to the Army Infantry Training School at Gondrecourt, France in 1917.

Courtesy of 16th Infantry Association

at Bordeaux we had quite a heavy snow storm, typical winter day with two inches of snow on the ground. The air was crisp and cold.

It seemed quite in contrast to the weather we had prior to late in December.

We were very much upset in our regiment when we read in the papers that the railroad workmen were asking for a 40 percent increase in wages. This incensed us very much when we were over in Europe preparing to fight for our country and being far away from our loved ones and our homes and living as we knew we were living there in temporary accommodations. [We] also realized that we would be going into the battle area before long. That there would be such a discrimination in favor of the railroad workers vis-à-vis the

man in uniform in far distant areas preparing or actually fighting for his country; it seemed so inequitable and unfair to make such differentiation in compensation money-wise between industrial workers and the man who was actually serving his country in combat areas. We felt in wartime that all people should be required to work, labor for their country with almost similar remunerative return. We felt every American should share in the sacrifices for his country, we believed over there even back in December 1917 that there should be conscription of industry.5 I was very proud that my dear wife was very active in Red Cross work in the community where she lived and in various and sundry forms of Red Cross efforts. I felt she was as much as a soldier as I was,

and I felt her presence beside me as I served overseas. I was aware that the dressings that the Red Cross were making would be those, no doubt, that we would be using in caring for the wounded. This realization brought our loved ones back home [those] who were active in Red Cross and other welfare effort[s] seemed to be serving with us on the battlefield.

Early in January 1918, Colonel Catlin ordered me to proceed from Bordeaux to Damblain in the Vosges mountains, [which] had been designated as an area for the 6th Regiment to be billeted for training in trench warfare.

When I arrived in Damblain I went to the headquarters of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Regiment Marines, the commanding officer was none other than Major Frederick Wise,6 whom we called “Fritz” and who had been my commanding officer in Jeremie, Haiti, in 1915 after I served in the northern part of Haiti in the fighting against the Caco bands.7 The senior medical officer of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Regiment, was Lt. Cmdr. Lester L. Pratt,8 Medical Corps, U.S. Navy, who had served as the junior medical officer on the Oklahoma some time prior to coming to France. Pratt occupied Major Wise’s headquarters.9 They made me very comfortable.

Wise ran a very fine mess, so I was assured of particularly good food while I stayed at his headquarters in Damblain. It seemed like old times to have a horseback ride with Wise, as we used to ride together so much in Jeremie, Haiti. Wise procured a large white field horse for me to

5. Wilson nationalized the railroad industry on December 26, 1917 for the war effort.

6. Lt.. Col. (later Col.) Frederick “Fritz” M. Wise (1877-??), Commander of 2nd Battalion, 6th Regiment at Belleau Wood.

7. Boone would serve in Haiti from August 1914 to October 1915.

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ride to the town of Blenvencourt where I was to establish headquarters for the 6th Regiment and for the 1st Battalion of the 6th Regiment for the headquarters staff and for the personnel billeted in this small village. The 2nd and 3rd Marines and Supply Company of the 6th Regiment were to be billeted in adjacent towns in the Blevencourt area.

With the smattering of French language that I possessed, I not only billeted the colonel and his regimental headquarters staff, but procured billeting provisions for the enlisted men attached to the headquarters staff and to the entire 1st Battalion. It was an interesting experience to try to make myself understood in a strange environment and without the benefit of an interpreter or anybody who could speak English. Somehow I accomplished my mission.

Blevencourt was a typical rural village of one long hilly street and with a stream passing through the middle. The stream was really an open sewer and it went right by the walls of one building best adapted for our use as battalion aid station.

I selected the building anyway for [use as a supplemental aid station] for convenience to the greater number of the troops who were billeted in the town proper. I selected a barrack building up on the hill just on the outskirts of the town for what I might call the regimental aid station. Besides an office and a sick

Comrades-in-Arms: Maj. Richard Derby

I

was at Beaumont that I met then Major Richard Derby,1 the husband of President Theodore Roosevelt’s daughter Ethel.

This was one of the most fortunate friendships that I had established not only in France [but] throughout my entire life. I found Doctor Derby a most charming man and learned to know him as a very able surgeon and a very wonderful administrator. In our division medical department we became the most intimate friends until his death [in] July 1963. •

Courtesy of the Museum of the American Military Family

1. Dr. Richard Derby (1881-1963) served as the Division Surgeon at the Headquarters 2nd Division in World War I. He married Theodore Roosevelt’s daughter Ethel in 1913.

quarters space, this new aid station [contained] a little area reserved to billet Hospital Corpsmen.

The best house in town, of course, was taken over for Colonel Catlin and some men of his staff and the commanding officer of the 1st Battalion and the senior members of the battalion staff, of which I was one.

By this time we had two medical officer assistants in the 1st Battalion and a warrant officer of the Hospital Corps and the full allowance of

Hospital Corpsmen.

The second best house I selected for Colonel Catlin was for the second commander of the regiment Lt. Colonel Harry Lee.10 Then in turn, a house for the adjutant of the regiment, Frank E. Evans.11 All the officers were assigned to billets in accordance to rank. I selected a house for my own use up on the hill at the eastern end of the main street, which was owned and occupied by an old French couple. The husband was retired and I believe

8. Lt. Cmdr. (later Rear Adm.) Lester Lesley Pratt (1885-1971) of Bellefontaine, Ohio. served as a physician in the 5th Regiment alongside his brother Malcolm Pratt.

9. Boone would share the house with Pratt and Wise during his time in Damblain.

10. Col. (later Maj. Gen.) Harry Lee (1872-1935) served as Commander of the 6th Marine Regiment. After the war, Lee served as the military governor of the Dominican Republic (1921-1924).

11. Lt. Col. (later Brig. Gen.) Frank Edgar Evans (1876-1941) served as Adjutant with the 6th Marine Regiment. A recipient of the Navy Cross, Evans would later be the namesake of USS Frank Evans (DD-754).

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a former banker and quite old and very much invalid. I rarely ever saw him. I took over two rooms on the second floor. The couple who owned the house lived on the first floor where they had a living room, dining room, kitchen and bedroom at the rear of the house. As I said, I rarely saw the husband, but I became acquainted with my landlady who was a fine old lady, very kind, very attentive, and very thoughtful of me. The couple had never had children, so she seemed to look upon me as a son. At this time I was about 28 years of age. No one could have been kinder to me and more desirous of making me comfortable and doing everything possible to make me so.

I remember so well climbing up the uncarpeted wooden stairway to my rooms, and they looked very bare. There was scarcely a thing in them; however, there was a bellied stove in the first room I passed through to enter the room that I was going to use as a bedroom.

The stove burned wood and on the stove I heated water for my washing, shaving, and bathing. The bedroom had a great big comfortable bed and I remember so well one of those short, puffy, red bolsters, which, if you pulled up around

your neck, your feet stuck out; and if you left it to cover your feet part of your chest was exposed to the cold.

I soon learned that northern France was a terribly wet and damp part of the country, and the house I had occupied for my billeting quarters had no heat, except stoves in each room. The stove would die out every night and if I hadn’t had a Marine orderly assigned to me. I would have had to jump out of bed in the frigid cold and build a fire before I could get warm, but happily, he arrived at my billeting house before it was time for me to arise and have the room warm for me and water to be heated for washing. This orderly, after a good deal of training, became efficient, looked after my clothes, made my bed, polished my boots and my Sam Browne belt,12 and saw to my laundry, some of which he washed out himself.

On the 19th of January, Colonel Catlin had arrived and established his mess in the house that I selected as his headquarters. For a little while I ate in the home of the old family where I was billeted. While I never sat down with the family, because the old lady insisted that she would do the cooking and wait

on me and stood over me or sat beside me as I ate my food in the lonely estate.

After I got well established in the billeting house, I found it was more convenient and satisfactory to have my orderly occupy the second room and I provided an Army cot for him to sleep on. He was available then most of the time for my requirements. He was happy living alone rather than with other enlisted men. I was surprised that he was much interested in the book I liked so well, The Student in Arms.13 He was a good boy and devoted to his parents which gratified me.

I was pleased when Sibley14 with his 3rd Battalion came to a nearby town for billeting. Also Major Waller,15 who had the 23rd Machine Gun Battalion of the 6th Regiment was not too far away. Ogden King16 was his medical officer.

One of the fine friends I made in the 6th Regiment was the senior dental officer of the regiment Cornelius H. Mack.17 He acquitted himself very admirably in the combat area ad was a great addition to our organization and a very fine shipmate.

We were very pleased when we were assigned a new Ford ambulance for the regiment for the

12. Sam Browne belt is a wide leather strap worn diagonally over the shoulder usually in a military uniform. The belt is named after General Sam Browne a British Indian cavalry officer who lost his left arm in battle and wore the accoutrement for carrying his sword.

13. The Student in Arms is a book of essays about World War I service by British soldier Donald Hankey (1884-1916). Hankey would die in the battle of the Somme in 1916.

14. Major (later Col.) Berton W. Sibley (1877-1944) served as the Commander for the 3rd Battalion of the 6th Marine Regiment at Belleau Wood and would receive the Navy Cross for heroism under fire.

15. Major (later General) Little Tazewell Waller, Jr. (1886-1967) was the son of legendary Major General Waller. The younger Waller served with the 5th and 6th Marine Regiments in World War I and would be a recipient of the Navy Cross for his service in France.

16. Lt.. Cmdr. (later Rear Adm.) Ogden Doremus King (1888-1974) served as the regimental surgeon with the 6th Machine Gun Regiment. King would be the recipient of both the Distinguished Service Cross and Navy Cross for his heroic efforts at Belleau Wood.

17. Lt.. Cmdr. (later Rear Adm.) Cornelius Henry Mack (1885-1958), a dentist, was awarded the Navy Cross for heroism at Belleau Wood.

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battalion. It helps very much in our general transportation requirements, not only for objects, but for personnel conveyance.

From time to time I was assigned a different horse. Each time I seemed to be able to get a better one. One of the horses I acquired was known as the “outlaw of the corral.” We had a number of horses sent to the regiment for distribution which each officer according to rank made his own selection. When my turn came, I took the horse. The colonel didn’t think I would ever be able to mount him or use him, but I did after great difficulty. I had put him practically in a stock to mount him and with great difficulty to put a halter on, and he bucked and reared and kicked almost ran away on several occasions when I could get up on him. He eventually developed into a beautiful animal and not only met my requirements but I became the envy to have such a beautiful horse so that after some time an officer who was senior to me notified the colonel that he would like to take the horse.

The first day I took a trip in the Ford ambulance18 I went to Beaumont which was the newly established Division headquarters. This was all in the Vosges area of eastern France. And then on up to the Johns Hopkins hospital unit at Bazoilles which was south of Neufchateau to get some medical supplies.

The various units of the 2nd Division were starting to be formulated with headquarters at Beaumont

Comrades-in-Arms: 2Lt Charles Ullmer By chance, I had the opportunity of meeting a young Marine officer named Charles Ulmer1 who came from my home community.

He lived in Pottsville, Pennsylvania. As the months passed and we got into action I heard very excellent reports about him from his superior officers. Very tragically he was killed in action, but the reports were

that he had died most courageously. He was a splendid young man and our community would be very proud of him.

I was told he and a young companion who was killed about the same time were two of the finest young Marine officers that they had in his battalion.•

1. 2nd Lt. Charles Ullmer (1897-1918) was killed in action at Chateau-Thierry. Ullmer was from outside of Boone’s hometown of St. Clair, Penn.

and the two Marine regiments, the Machine Gun Battalion, and the Marine Supply Company all became the Marine Brigade. We found ourselves becoming a part of a very huge Army organization with a Major General of the Army in command of the Division.

One unit of the medical department for a battalion was a cart, built as an animal-drawn cart to transport medical stores and supplies. It was supposed to transport our file boxes records and all our clerical material, field desks, blankets, stretchers, etc etc. The planning in the States and the concept of medical supplies to meet our requirements in France was not well thought through and, of course, predicated on lack of experience

and what the requirements would be for us.

I continued to have considerable trouble with my feet all the time I was in the Vosges area and I suffered with them a great deal. They needed a great deal of attention in the way of re-dressing several times a day and with many soakings and the needful changing of socks quite frequently, the requirement to wear heavy socks, in fact, two pairs of heavy wool socks.

We had some bitter cold experiences in night maneuvers in the trenches forward in the Vosges area. Freezing cold. This aggravated my foot condition. We would stand in these trenches all night long in bitter cold and a lot of mud [and] freeze our feet more than they al-

18. According to author Tim O’Callaghan, in World War I, the Ford Motor Company produced over 30,000 vehicles for wartime needs including 5,745 military ambulances. This did not include Ford chassis delivered to the French government. The American Expeditionary Forces in France used more Ford vehicles than any other make (20,652 Fords to 18,039 non-Fords). Fords were less expensive, purportedly easier car to drive, and had legendary durability and the ability to navigate uneven ground (Source: O’Callaghan, Timothy. Ford in the Service of America: Mass Production for the Military During the World Wars. McFarland & Company, Inc. Jefferson: North Carolina. 2009. pp 8-10.)

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ready were. Fortunately, I had a fine knitted helmet to cover over my face and neck and I wore it under my steel helmet. [I]wore wristlets, heavy hobnailed shoes, two pairs of socks, [a] heavy trench coat and very heavy woolen gloves; still I was freezing cold. Those training experiences in the trenches in the Vosges were among the coldest experiences I had all the time I was in France.

As time went on, I enjoyed working with Farwell more and more and with the association we had in the Vosges area. As he got to know me better, he insisted I call him by his first name and he said he was going to call me “Dan.” This was a familiar name as that was what I was called in prep school at Mercersburg Academy. But I suppose most Boones are dubbed “Dan” as a nickname at some time in their lives.19 He gave me free rein to do as I felt was my requirement in acting as his senior assistant, besides being the Battalion Surgeon of the 1st Battalion. He was always courteous to me and kindly considerate of me.

On February 23, 1918, I departed from my little French home in Blevencourt and was sorry to even be separated from the sweet French lady who was the owner of my home and was so very kind to me while I was living in Blevencourt.

I had apprehension that I would never see her again.

Later that day while traveling by train I arrived in Langres,20 a very historic French city. It was quite

Class at the U.S. Army Sanitary School in Langres, France. The school was organized in accordance with the general school project for the American Expeditionary Forces, involving army and corps schools and divisional training, which was approved Aug. 30, 1917; opened Dec. 3, 1917; located in Langres, France.

Courtesy National Museum of Health and Medicine

a transition going from the little village of Blevencourt and entering a new world of a beautiful city.

Instead of two rooms in the little home in Blevencourt I occupied quarters in a barracks with a number of Army medical officers. From my feather bed at Blevencourt to an Army cot with many inconveniences. I considered myself very fortunate to have been ordered to take this course at the Army Sanitary School. It was very well established and very well organized.

The school commanded by Colonel Bailey K. Ashford, Medical Corps, U.S.Army,21 who prior

to that assignment had been the original Division Surgeon of the 1st Army Division. Ashford was indeed scholarly and a well-known bacteriologist [but he] was more the scientist than the administrator.

Most of the students in my class were Reserve Army medical officers. Many of them were outstanding men in their respective communities in the United States. There were many specialties represented in the class.

I was the only Navy medical officer in it. I was gratified that I was permitted to bring my orderly with me from Blevencourt. I found him

19. “Dan” or “Danny” a popular nickname in Boone’s time for anyone with his surname. “Dan” alludes to the famous frontiersman and soldier Daniel Boone (1734-1820).

20. Langres is a Commune in Champagne-Ardennes region of France. It served as location of Army tank and intelligence schools during the war.

21. Col. Bailey Ashford (1873-1934) was a U.S. Army physician best known for pioneering treatment of hookworm and anemia. Ashford served as the Commander of the U.S. Army’s 1st Division Medical Department in World War I.

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of great assistance in looking after my clothes and doing many chores for me that I would not have had time to accomplish outside of the classroom periods.

While at Langres I bought my first and only musette bag,22 which hung by a cloth strap over a shoulder and in it I carried underwear, toilet articles, [a] writing pad, socks and various sundry articles. This became my sole piece of luggage as it were after I got into the fighting. All my other luggage had to be sent to the rear areas and I went for long periods just utilizing the material that I was able to carry in this musette bag with me. For long periods I was practically dependent upon this piece of luggage to carry everything in the way of waring apparel, flashlight and the things that one needs for his toilet and for a single change of underclothing.

We spent two weeks in didactic instruction at Langres. Then went to Paris with the class en route to the British front where we were to attend British Sanitary School.23 We had an interesting period though brief in Paris on the way to northwestern France. We received some good indoctrinal instruction from the French in Paris and we saw a number of their hospitals on the way north.

I remember feeling restless sometimes with the war effort, although I was very much absorbed

in the course that the school provided. One couldn’t help but become impatient with what seemed to be the tedious and slow process of getting into combat action, but we learned as we had more experience that we were part and parcel of a huge, immense war effort. Until I got to France I had very little conception of what was necessary to prepare for war and in the combat zones particularly. Even though we were part and parcel of it in France, I never ceased to be amazed with the intricacies of the planning and the assemblage of the materials of war and establishing communication lines. It wasn’t long till I had learned that for a relative few requirements at the front what was required to provide it from the rear was overpowering. Right from the manufacturing places in the United States to the docks, over sea movement, to the ports where material was unloaded and then for trans-shipment by railroad to the forward supporting lines. All the preparation, I came to know, was for the purpose of providing the men doing the fighting at the front to be provided with all the requisites of war and to be fed and clothed.

I was indeed fortunate as a battalion surgeon in those early days in France to have had such rare opportunities as I did to rub shoulders with the sister services

even outside of my own divisional area and to have had opportunities to attend a course at school, one at Gondrecourt and again at Langres and with the British in their own sectors in the northwest part of France.

The British Sanitary School was very well organized and administered. I found the British were perfectionists in organization and applying detail requirements of duty, and they had a great pride in their appearance, their cleanliness and how they were able to keep themselves neat and clean under the most trying circumstances of war, except when they were covered in mud.

The Commanding General of the British Sanitary School was a General Thompson,24 one of the most striking military figures that I ever saw. He was the senior staff medical officer of the 1st British Army which, shortly after we had completed our course at the British Sanitary School, suffered tremendous defeat by the German onrush to the English Channel, and it was then that Marshal Haig,25 the Commanding General of the British Expeditionary Forces in France declared: “We are fighting with our backs to the wall!”26 The curriculum of the course consisted of didactic lectures, trips into the trenches, and before we

22. A canvas bag with strap commonly used by cyclists and hikers.

23. The British Sanitary School was established for “teaching front-line medical requirements” to American Medical Officers.

24. Maj. General Harry Thompson served as the Director of the Medical Service, 1st British Field Army in France and oversaw the Sanitary School.

25. Field Marshall Douglas Haig (1861-1928), Commander of the British Expeditionary Forces in World War I. 26. In his famous “special order of the day” dated April 11, 1918, Field Marshall Haig wrote: “here is no other course open to us but to fight it out. Every position must be held to the last man: there must be no retirement. With our backs to the wall and believing in the justice of our cause each one of us must fight on to the end. The safety of our homes and the Freedom of mankind alike depend upon the conduct of each one of us at this critical moment.” (source: http://www.firstworldwar.com/source/backstothewall.htm)

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Royal Army evacuation of casualties, ca. 1918 Courtesy of Wellcome Library

left the British front, to hospitals in the Boulogne area, city of Boulogne.27 I enjoyed immensely the entire course and the associations, both official and personal, with the British. I learned a great deal preparatorily for the unforeseen combat operations in which I would be a participant when my own division took its place in the front lines. All the instructions we received was of a high order of excellence and we learned a lot from each individual officer who was one of our teachers.

The clinics were particularly interesting and informative as were various and sundry medical institutions at the base. It was very impressive to go through the trenches with

British officers and see how their medical facilities were established and how the men lived in much more comfort than I imagined they ever could live in the trench areas. They had a fetish for establishing comfortable facilities and for keeping themselves just as clean as possible and making the point to shave daily, even with almost the absence of water to do so. The officers were very nice to the men, courtly, courteous, but firm, and the men had great respect for their officers. There seemed evidence of being very well-distinguished, but there was a friendliness and a human touch that deeply impressed me between comrades-in-arms,

whether the officers or officers and men or even the men among themselves. The officers were not a bit stuffy in their relationships with enlisted men, and they seemed to relish going out of their way to provide cheerfulness for the men were living under very adverse circumstances. This attitude must have given the men a great lift in the trenches and their dressing stations to carry on their hazardous and tedious and exhausting exacting duties.

I carried away with me the example of the British as demonstrated in the interrelationship of personnel in the regiments. I took it to my regiment when I returned to the

27. Military and Red Cross Hospitals in Boulogne, France. The British operated: No. 7 British Red Cross Oct 1914 - Jan 1915; No 7 General May 1918 - Apr 1919; No 7 Stationary Oct 1914 - Apr 1919; No. 8 British Red Cross Jan 1918 onwards; No. 11 General Oct 1914 - Apr 1916; No. 13 General Oct 1914 - Feb 1919; No. 13 Stationary Oct 1914 - Jun 1916; No. 14 Stationary Jun 1919 - Jan 1920; No 83 General Jun 1916 - Apr 1919. The U.S. Army operated Base Hospital No. 5 in Boulogne. (source: http://www.1914-1918.net/hospitals.htm).

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Marine Brigade and I retained this knowledge and applied it because I admired what I had seen from the British after I left my regiment from the 1st Battalion and then as Regimental Surgeon to the Assistant Division Surgeon, 2nd Division. I hope that I was able to have rubbed off on me some of the great benefit that I received from my association with the British. I couldn’t help but feel that my attitude of helpfulness toward my fellow American officers to show more consideration and be more friendly to the enlisted comrades-in-arms, then that it was always applied. The British were always mindful of the enlisted man and they certainly applied and practiced the military axiom that the first thing an officer does is to look after his men and see that they are cared for and bedded down before they give any thought to themselves. The British applied this axiom also to their animals [and] they themselves provided for their own comforts last. This relationship [between officer and enlisted] is one of the most vital morale factors in the military family whether it is in the field or aboard ship or air station; it is of the highest importance in the combat zones when everyone is threatened with instant death.

One could not help but be aware that every man is equal before his Maker.

I always felt my experiences on the British front were among the most valuable experiences of my entire military life. It was while at the British front and exposed to considerable danger as we traversed their trenches that I was aware that

the ring that my wife had sent me meant more to me than ever in the past for I knew that I would always wear it, even into eternity.

We were a bit amused when we arrived at the British front and, feeling that we had gotten close to the battle area, that the first announcement almost made to us after were assigned to our barracks was the meal hours. Breakfast was at seven, lunch at one, tea at 4:30—which amused us highly, but we became accustomed to it—and dinner at eight [o’clock]. With the announcement we thought we were back in one of the big French cities and here we were not very far from the combat area.

The British always knew how to make themselves comfortable and they—except in actual battle, adhered to a civilian—mostly civilian routine of living without having afternoon tea interrupted. The British were very hospitable, loved to have fun and enjoy banter in the barrack room and at meals.

Instruction was well thought out, as it was particularly well balanced between didactic lectures, practical application of what we were learning, attending clinics, going to see hospitals, watching operations and then being with the combat elements in the trenches. There were many occasions when we were sitting in classes that we could hear very distinctly heavy gunfire which was almost like continuous thunder and with airplanes buzzing around like birds overhead. It was clear to us that we were learning very, very much that could be acquired from actual observation and living

in relationship to officers and men who had participated in actual combat and had varied forms of experiences in warfare. Surely, it was obvious to us early that the British practiced an art of perfectionism, as far as they could, and it behooved us to profit from their example and then to practice and apply what we learned upon our return to our own organizations.

As a lover of horses, I was particularly impressed with the British mounts, how beautifully they were maintained, and how beautifully maintained the equipment was.

The men were clean and immaculate in appearance with shiny brass buttons and polished shoes when they were not actually at the front or most forward areas and their equipment and their horses, and the conditions of their wagons, artillery mounts and whatnot all made for better morale. It gave a standard which inspired me to see to it that the men who would serve under me try to pattern as much as possible and whenever circumstances permit the appearance of neatness and tidiness and cleanliness of the British Tommy32 and the same with the equipment, whether it’s mounted equipment or truckage or ambulance or whatnot, making it just as pleasing to the eye as possible. Thereby, I am sure morale is enhanced and gives one the feeling of better well-being and not depression that comes to one after he is full of mud and dirt, filth and lice, and all unkempt uniforms of the battlefield. I was inspired to a new standard.•

28. “Tommy” was a nickname for World War I-era British soldiers. The name may have originated because of the “Tommy Booklet” or account book carried by soldiers in World War I.

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In the Trenches of Verdun Hospital Corpsmen and a Marine take a momentary respite outside a field medical station at Verdun, 1918 BUMED Archives

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M

y absence from my organization was for a six weeks’ period taking the course of instruction, both at Langres and at the British front and in Paris. I had had the opportunity, both at Gondrecourt and at the Army Sanitary School at Langres and on the British front, of studying American, British, and French organizations and administration of military units, and also had an opportunity to study new military medicine and surgery as it was being evolved in that war. Much of it had never appeared in print at the time. I consider myself very favored to have such indoctrination and education in preparation for the period unforeseen to come of great activity in the combat zone.

In mid-March of 1918 the 2nd Division, which had had its original formulation in the Beaumont-Vosges area, was moved from the Vosges to the Verdun Sector.1 My regiment was moved by train from the Vosges to [the]south of Verdun. The railhead for it and for the Division was Souilly.2 The regiment was divided by battalions and companies and assigned to a sector for training and taking up defensive positions.

The division was under the overall command of the French, this sector, and for the training purposes.

The 6th Regiment headquarters and my battalion, the 1st, was assigned to a wooded area near Sommedieue.3 The first part of our trip was made by train, with the necessity to spend the night enroute in a town. The hotel was small, but it was comfortable. We stopped for lunch at some point, and it was fortunate that we

came across an ambulance from our division. We [took] a 2 1/2 hour ride in the ambulance over very splendid roads, passing village after village with the troops in them. Eventually, we found Marines. It was then that I knew we were near our destination, because we saw wagons marked “6th Marine Regiment.” I felt that I had [reached] home, because I was back with my own military organization.

In a little while we passed a dugout with a sign over the top of it, “Regimental Surgeon, 6th Regiment Marines.” Then I exclaimed to myself, “At home at last!”

It was here that we had our first initial baptism of fire, usually occurring at night when the Germans would send over shells or a bombardment for harassment and for purposes of seeking out intelligence as to where we were and how we were dispersed.

I found the dugout was occupied by Doctor Farwell, the Regimental Surgeon, and the senior dental officer of the regiment, Doctor Cornelius H. Mack. The three of us occupied this dugout in the woods, which was built in the side of a hill, and there were a number of Corpsmen occupying [it] with us. The floor was muddy but had wood planking on top. It was divided into several compartments, one of which Doctor Mack and I occupied, with Doctor Farwell hav-

ing his own compartment. It was a really dank, wet, and cold place for a dwelling. Our beds were made of 2 x 4 inch chicken wire for us to lie on with blankets between us and the wire, and chicken wire was fashioned around all sides of the bunk frame and over above the top of our heads to keep the rats from walking over us. We could lie on our bunk and look up at the chicken wire and see rats coming around the top of it, with their tails suspended between the openings of the wire. It became a pastime when we were taking a little rest on the bunk to watch the rats’ tails dropping in between these holes.

We did rudimentary office work and held sick call and cared for casualties and sick Marines right in this dugout. From time to time there were casualties brought to us from the trench training area on to the east of us. It was here that we had our initial baptism of fire. [This] usually occurred at night when the Germans would send over shells or a bombardment for harassment and for purposes of seeking out intelligence as to where we were and how we were dispersed. Sometimes our own dugout would get a hit, but we were quite well protected by rock and timbers and mud, [and] none that really did any damage to us. We could hear the shelling frequently at a distance. As I was always curious to see what was going on, I would frequently disappear and get out on the front lines and go through the trenches. I loved to hike and I liked to get out to the foremost area whenever possible. I usually just took one Hospital Corpsman with me.

1. Verdun Sector located on the Western front.

2. Souilly is a commune in the Meuse Department (Loraine Region, northeastern France).

3. Sommedieue is a commune in the Meuse Department (Loraine Region, northeastern France).

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Hospital Corpsmen and Marines at the Regimental Dressing Station near Verdun.

BUMED Archives

It amazed me to see our men standing their watches in the trenches. When they got a little respite they would [collect] what little water they could from the rivulets that would wash down the side of their trench or under the duckboards or [what was left] in their canteens, and use it for shaving, brushing their hair and to get rid of the mud from their clothes and their shoes. They seemed to learn early to try to keep themselves policed as much as possible, but they certainly were living in mud and squalor. I encouraged them to keep this up whenever possible, for I knew it was good for their morale.

It released the tensions from [always] being on the alert.

Marines on duty in the forward areas in the trenches had to get what sleep they could right at their stations, either standing up, sitting down on their haunches or leaning up against the side of the trench.

Rarely did they ever have an opportunity to lie down. I wondered how

they could stand their long watches on their feet without complete exhaustion.

On my travels forward I learned about [the] terrain, contours, evolutions, and dispositions of the troops, imagining where I might someday be establish dressing stations and learning routes of evacuation that might be applied to the areas where I would establish the stations.

It was evident that my visitations to the forward areas and my presence among the men standing watch there did a great deal for their morale. They seemed to be surprised to see a medical officer walking about in the trenches and exposing himself to danger. They probably sensed that I did not have to be there, but elected to be. They seemed to have entertained the idea that officers stayed back in dugouts and did not unduly expose themselves, but they soon learned that this was not applicable in most cases.

Men on duty were not allowed lights of any kind. Cigarette smoking was prohibited, because of the fire that it might draw from the enemy and [would] give away the locations of human occupancy of those trenches.

On one visit to the forward area, a French Poilu4 had given me a cane that he had made while standing watch in his trench. It was made of reed interlaced over a steel rod with a sharp point at the end and a curved handle over the steel rod.

The steel rod was larger at the handle end and it provided a very good grip. This cane became my eyes throughout the war, particularly at night and even protected on innumerable occasions, because I had to feel my way along the trenches and the bayous of them. It really seemed to me, and was in a sense, a seeing eye like the white sticks the blind use.

As time went on all officers and many of the enlisted men carried canes. [These canes] were almost indispensable in getting through the trenches, many of which were long, deep in mud over rough duckboards. Canes were not only useful in the trenches but very much so in the open fields which were rough and many times had shell holes and much of the traversing of the fields was at complete darkness, tremendous rainstorms.

A cane helped one to extricate his feet from the congealed mud. A cane was really indispensable in the combat zone. Of course, the men without a cane had plenty to carry in the case of Springfield rifles, machine gun, bandoliers, grenades, and boxes of ammunition, and they were really loaded down.

4. Poilu, literally meaning “hairy one,� was a nickname for French World War I infantrymen who were oftentimes unshaven.

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One’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness in wartime at night. I have always felt there came to one an added sense of touch and subconscious awareness of strange environments and a possible saying, strange human beings in a locality.

When the division arrived in the Verdun sector, it was held by three French divisions of the 10th Corps, 2nd Army.5 They had the command over the 2nd Division and became our instructors and we were integrated with them.

During the third week of March the infantry and artillery units of the 2nd Division were put into the lines for the first time between French organizations, the division being spread out for practically the whole distance from Verdun to St. Mihiel.6 It was here the 2nd Artillery Brigade joined our division. It was then under the command of [Jacques de] Chambrun.7 This Verdun sector to which we were assigned had been a comparatively quiet one since the last Verdun offensive and Verdun became a stalemate for almost four years. Both sides were well dug in with a wide stretch of “No man’s land” separating them. The enemy of this sector in the southern part of it and northwest of St. Mihiel held positions on high ground that commanded the lower land in the valley of the Meuse.

Our division on the northern part of this sector just north and east of Verdun looked out upon a dreary battle-scarred waste of Le Morte Homme.8 Our own men in the 2nd Division—and I’m sure that applied to all Americans fighting in France who early participated in the trench life—disliked it very much. They were restless when they were retained in trench areas. They wanted to get out into the open and fight.

The French had been bogged down about four years in trench life and seemed contented to stay there for the duration, but the Americans with their restless spirit would have none of that and looked with impatience to the time they would be in the open fighting, leaving the trenches far behind them.

We learned much in the Verdun sector, although much of it was [the] boredom of the trenches day after day, [and] nights of harassment from the enemy. Artillery was restless to return the fire, but [in] a number of instances they were prevented from doing so by the French command, because sorties were apt to bring on reprisals by the Germans. While in this Verdun area, our artillery officers knew they had some very good targets on the German side in the form of industrial plants; in turn the Germans knew that we had industrial plants in our sectors which they could [fire] their missiles.

The original concept was that the American casualties would be cared for by French medical officers in the French hospitals. Such a plan

Dr. Boone with his “trench cane.”

BUMED Archives

was entirely unsatisfactory to us, but we had to abide by it for a period. We tried in the Verdun sector period to have this plan modified so that we could operate our own hospitals and care for our own wounded in them. We had excellent medical officers in our division and the various and sundry components of it.

During the early periods of the 2nd Division being an organization, there was a great deal of unhappiness, discord and criticism between

5. X Corps, 2nd Division commanded by General Charles Alexis Vandenberg (1858-1942).

6. St. Mihiel is a town in the Meuse Department that was the site of Battle of St. Mihiel (September 1918).

7. Gen. Jacques Aldebert de Chambrun (1872-1962) was a French artillery officer and a direct decendent of the Marquis de Lafayette.

8. Cumieres-le-Morte-Homme was a town that has been left unoccupied since the Battle of Verdun (1916). Known as the “village that died” for France.

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the Army and the Marines. Those of us from the small contingent of the Navy naturally felt a very strong allegiance toward the Marines.

When we got to know Major [Richard] Derby and Major [Burton] Lee, [seeing] what outstanding men they were in their profession, those of us in the Navy medical contingent felt more kindly toward the Army earlier than did the Marines.

The two months in the Verdun sector were of the greatest value to us in the way of training and organization leading to the point of complete cohesiveness of the personnel of a division. This came out of a very severe and serious feeling for a while earlier in Verdun of backbiting and bloodletting, as it were, between the Army and Marines. As I said, they had not had the opportunity to be thrown close together as a division unit heretofore, and because of the unfamiliarity of one toward the other without friendships and a camaraderie between elements of the division, each one seemed to rub the other the wrong way. It caused a lot of hairshirts and fur to stand on the back of the necks. Of course, it was good for each unit or individual to get there “first with the mostest.”

That was individual unit pride and accomplishment. The ambition to get there “with the mostest at the firstest” was always an inspiration.

As time passed and we got into the open warfare in our first big engagement in the Belleau Wood10 area, we became a very solidified, unified organization. Anybody that would challenge a member of the 2nd Division, both Army and Marines, would come to the defense of his fellow in the 2nd Division. In

Comrades-in-Arms: Lt. Col. Burton J. Lee

A

lso assigned to the [2nd] Division, much to its benefit, was a [Lt. Colonel] Burton J. Lee,1 a very distinguished surgeon of New York. Fortunately, he and Doctor [Richard] Derby knew each other prior to coming to France and they worked wonderfully as a team. In an article that Lee wrote after the war, he tells of an experience he had one time in

going through one of the French hospitals and hunting out some American wounded. He came upon a figure wrapped in blankets from which protruded a smiling face. Major Lee asked him, “Are you an American?”

Promptly came the reply with emphasis from the wounded man, “No sir, I am a Marine!!” •

1. Lt. Col. Burton J. Lee, Medical Corps, USA (1874-1933) served with the 2nd Division.

open warfare the division ceased to be [a collection of] heterogenous organizations and became a homogeneous, closely bound, solid unit.

Of various elements, as with steel, it became a division constituted of steel which accounted for its unexcelled successes and achievements during World War I. It became a great melting pot and there was no other division in France that was composed of the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps components. [The 2nd Division] was the greatest fighting organization in France [holding] a record that was not excelled by anybody. Its slogan [was]: “2nd Division second to none.”

It was on April 13, 1918, in the Verdun sector when the first battle engagement took place. We learned early that the morale of troops can

best be judged by the morale of the wounded. Fortunately, our men rarely met with defeat and nothing but success in all the fighting in France. Even when seriously wounded, the men of the 2nd Division were universally cheerful and in good spirits.

The first dugout I occupied in the Sommedieu area of the Verdun sector was anything but a commodious home. The room which Doctor Mack and I occupied had a dimension of 12’ [length] x 4’ [width] x 6’ 6” [height]. The lights were only by candle and our furnishings, besides the bed, were most meager, merely a stool, [a] poor wooden table, and one chair which we had to share. We had one section of the dugout for the treatment of patients. The Corpsmen were very

10. Belleau Wood or Bois de Belleau located on the Marne River was the site of the German offensive in World War I (June 1-26, 1918) following loses of Chateau Thierry and Vaux.

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crowded in their damp and cold section. Besides the Corpsmen, we had additional stretcher bearers who lived right in this dugout with us, and every place around us was nothing but thick and heavy mud that stuck to your shoes, [and to] a good part of your body if it came in close proximity to the mud. We used to say we have thick, thin, dry, wet winter weather and all forms of congealed mud. It seemed to never cease raining.

I was fortunate to be a member of Colonel Catlin’s mess in his much larger dugout. The meals were quite good for field rations supplemented with what we could find from time to time at the railhead, but there were no farms in our area to get eggs and chickens or anything like that.

I was pleased when I returned from the sanitary school at Langres and the British front that at Sommedieu I had my horse and from time to time be able to ride him.

He was kept in a rear area from the area where we had our dugout. The horse I acquired when I returned from school was really a beauty and I named him “Haiti.” He had been a French cavalry horse, beautifully trained, with silken texture of hair gave him a shiny coat. I was most fortunate to have him and I had opportunities to enjoy him on times that I could have a little freedom late in the afternoon or mid-afternoon and take a ride in the back area. Of course, when we were subjected to harrassment from the enemy, I would not attempt to take a ride with him, because you would never know how far to the rear the shells would fall. The longer we stayed in the Verdun area, the more the enemy harrassment was visited upon us.

U.S. Navy Field Hospital at Verdun following German shelling Courtesy of National Library of Medicine

While standing out in front of our dugout the other day, Farwell having a conference with officers who came to see him about some official matters, unexpectedly a German shell struck right near us, which made us scatter promptly.

It was uncomfortably close to us. I fell against a rock and cracked the stone in the ring that my wife had sent me. The crack remains to this day, but it has not otherwise marred the ring, and is a reminder of this particular incident of avoiding a shell close by. This particular shell was a mustard gas shell and, fortunately, the wind was blowing quite strong and blew the fumes away from us before we were affected by the fumes. It was one of the early experiences that we had in being exposed to poisonous gas shells.

We learned that the shells containing gas had a very different sound than those from shells with ammunition in them. With

the passing of time we had heavier shelling in our particular area where our dugout was located and were almost visited nightly with heavy firing. Many times it seemed as though we were to be directly hit, but while the shells fell very close to our dugout, we only had one direct hit on it that did no harm, because of the reinforcement in the over-

It was in France where I first learned early in the World War I the word “liaison.” I had [an] occasion to use it almost constantly throughout the war. It was one of the most common words we used in France, and since World War I it has become a word of common usage in our own country. page 37

head of concrete and some steel and rocks and lots of earth.

After our trench training in the Vosges Mountains area rural regions, the fine canvas bedding rolls and canvas clothes bags which we officers had procured for ourselves, as well as locker trunks, all had to be transferred to a huge Army storage depot at Gesvres, which was in the mid area of France and developed into a huge storage area.

To the big storage depot went our locker trunks and our clothing rolls. We were allowed for the time being to keep our bedding rolls while we were in the Verdun area and inside of the bedding rolls we packed many articles that had been in our clothing rolls. From April on the only clothes we had until the Armistice to wear was one suit in the forward area, a pair of hobnailed shoes, a pair of wrapped puttees,11 Sam Browne belt for a while and then that was sent to storage, overseas cap, a steel helmet, and a musette bag. We brought to France with us a Marine cap and a Marine campaign hat, but they had gone to storage sometime before.

In our musette bag we carried clean underwear, heavy and light socks, toilet articles, a can of solid alcohol,12 a flashlight, a pad of stationery, pencils and pens. Officers and men carried canteens on their belts. Most of the time water was contained in the canteens, but some personnel would fill their canteens with red wine or cognac.

I tried to keep clean every day, but it was not always possible even to wash my face or clean my teeth.

I watched the water supply in my canteen and used it sparingly so I

could at least [I could] have enough to clean my teeth and to wash my eyes out. I shaved whenever I could.

I carried a piece of steel with me as my mirror.

...every place around us was nothing but thick and heavy mud that stuck to your shoes, [and to] a good part of your body if it came in close proximity to the mud. We used to say we have thick, thin, dry, wet winter weather and all forms of congealed mud. It seemed to never cease raining.

The medical personnel, medical and dental officers and Hospital Corpsmen, did not carry firearms.

Early there were brassards worn on our arms during the training period, but when we entered actual battle, we quickly learned that a red cross brassard was a wonderful target. They were dispensed with.

Our ambulances throughout the war continued to have red crosses painted on the canvas sides of the cover and also on the top of each ambulance. Ambulances, besides being used for the transporting of wounded, brought medical re-supplies of dressings and medical stores to us in the forward area.

Before we left the United States, the planners in Washington and even those with the Marines in Quantico thought we would be able to carry along health records and maintain medical records. We soon learned, even before we got into the

open warfare and while we were at Verdun, that it was impracticable to maintain an office and keep up our records. We did the best we could until we found it was just not realistic to even think in terms of maintaining records other than the name tag that we applied to every casualty and sick man at the time of his being transferred out of our area. The tag had a place for the name of the man, his rate or rank, his organization, brief description of his wound or illness, and with the signature of the admitting officer to so-called sick list or for evacuation. These were made in duplicate when we could and had a carbon copy and in quite a few instances there were records of the casualties when they evere evacuate by such a procedure, but not always, by any means.

Then each officer and man had to wear a dog-tag, in fact, two of them, which were metal tags suspended around his neck by a cord or a silver chain, such as I had procured for myself. These tags were stenciled metallically with the name of the individual, his organization, his rank or rate, his blood type. If the casualty suffered a fatal wound, one of the tags was buried on the body and the other tag was sent to the central office. I must say that this did not apply uniformly. There were no doubt a great many cases that there was lack of identification of the individual; hence, we have many unknown Soldiers and Sailors from World War I. Of course, the battle area and the nature of the wound and the movement of the troops was a very important factor as to the possibility to identify the

11. Long narrow piece of cloth wound tightly and spirally round the leg that provided both support and protection.

12. A product consisting of ordinary alcohol converted to a gel (as by means of a soap or calcium acetate) and used on a small scale as a fuel.

Source: www.meriam-webster.com.

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victims with fatal wounds.

In narrating some experiences while aboard the transport Henderson in sailing across the Atlantic to France, I made mention of the mistake I made in the appraisement of some of the Hospital Corpsmen that I had selected to go with the 1st Battalion before we left Quantico, that as I looked over some of them, particularly two of them as they stood in assembly aboard the transport, I wondered why in the world I ever selected them. I had erred very much in my judgment of these two young men. The false appraisement which I at that time made has given me cause for deep sorrow.

On the early morning hours of April 1918 while we were in the Verdun area the 74th Company of the 1st Battalion, 6th Regiment Marines, were in barracks in a ravine in a wooded area. They were preparing in their barracks in the darkness to go into the trenches to relieve another company, when suddenly a tremendous barrage of mustard gas shells were inflicted upon these barracks, creating havoc. The Corpsman assigned to them was a boy named Pharmacist’s Mate Fred C. Schaffner.13 The name of the area where the 74th Company was billeted at the time was Fontaine-St. Robert. At the time of the gas shell attack, the area was drenched with a driving rain. Then the company was drenched with mustard gas shells.

During the process of evacuation of the officers and men affected by the poison gas, I left my dugout not very far from where this incident occurred and rushed to where the

Marine Corps motorcycle dispatch in Sommedieue Sector, 1918 Courtesy of U.S. Marine Corps History Division

Marines had been attacked and gassed. When I discovered Schaffner treating the Marines, I upbraided him for not wearing his gas mask. Very rigid instructions had been issued [to] everyone, [with] stern admonition that every officer and man was to wear his gas mask when the alert for a gas attack was sounded. In this instance, the alarm had not been sounded promptly enough. It came as a complete surprise, that this [was an] attack.

Consequently the casualties from mustard gas were terrifically high.

When I discovered him treating the Marine injured and gassed, I upbraided him for not wearing his mask. He said politely, “Sir, I can’t see to write out the name tags and give the care that I should to these victims of the gassing.”

Of course, each casualty had to have a name tag attached to him for identification purposes upon his evacuation. When I continued to admonish him, this young man said: “I am aware, sir, of the personal danger to which I am exposed by not wearing a mask, but I must take care of these men.”

Shortly afterwards, I found him behind a bush vomiting profusely, and then I was aware that he himself was a mustard gas victim. This incident occurred at Fontaine St. Robert on the morning of April 13, 1918, in the Verdun sector.

A few days after this incident, I visited the field hospital to which these casualties had been sent, and there were a large number of them evacuated to that hospital, including the particular Hospital Corps-

13. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Fred Charles Schaffner (Born in 1899 in Rock Island, IL-18 April 1918). His Distinguished Service Cross citation reads: “In the vicinity of Verdun, after having been gassed himself in the gas-shell bombardment of April 13, 1918, he courageously helped in the treatment of more than 100 cases of gas casualties, disregarding his own condition until overcome.”

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man. As I stood in the doorway of the ward, just a wooden barrack building, I beheld a never-forgettable sight. I stood speechless and stunned before I proceeded down the ward between rows of beds.

Men were coughing terrifically in spasms and with many portions of the body badly burned, particularly the hairy regions where mustard gas was long retained, as in the axillae and pubic areas. Eyes were badly burned. Pus was streaming down their faces from their eyes, their lids of which could not be fully closed, due to the swelling and accumulated pus.

In this group in one of the beds was this particular Hospital Corpsman. Two more days after my visit to this hospital, along with many others, this young man whose name was Fred C. Schaffner, paid the supreme sacrifice. It was he who was the first casualty among the Navy Hospital Corpsmen in France to have paid that sacrifice. He had voluntarily given his life for his country and for his comrades.

Later I learned that 11% of the casualties of the company which suffered the mustard gas attack to which I have referred, died and that it was recorded in the records of the American Expeditionary Forces that this was the highest mortality rate among the American forces during World War I from poisonous gas attacks.14 It is comforting to know that Schaffner was awarded posthumously the Distinguished Service Cross, United States Army. He also was awarded posthumously a letter of commendation from the Secretary of the Navy, the Honorable Josephus Daniels, for his heroic

G

Gas Warfare in the Great War

as warfare from shells entered the war picture originally when we were in Verdun. We had great deal of experience with gas warfare [later] in the Belleau Wood area and subsequently thereto. We had to contend with mustard, chlorine, and phosgene gas poisoning.

Chlorine, being a lachrymator, was merely an annoyance, rather than one very disabling. It caused a great deal of lachrymation and interfered with vision, but did no permanent damage, as far as we could ascertain. It was very different with mustard gas. This was a very vicious gas, burning the eyes severely and the hairy parts of the body. It permeated the clothing and was only released after a period of time. In the meantime, as long as it was worn next to the body, continued to burn the victim.

services which were so self-sacrificing when he voluntarily exposed himself to the same mustard gas poisoning in order to efficiently care for the wounded and evacuate them from the battle area. He surely gave his life in full measure most courageously for his country and his fallen comrades-in-arms.

As spring approached, we had our spirits raised when we heard birds singing, some green budding of trees, evidence to us that there was life anew in the land. I heard cuckoos for the first time in late April 1918 in the Sommedieu

Phosgene was very poisonous.

It was very difficult to detect in contrast to the distinct odor of the mustard gas.

When shells containing gas would explode, they can be just as damaging to property and personnel as other forms of high explosive shells. We had many casualties from direct hits from gas shells.

We had to wear two forms of gas masks: a French gas mask and English box respiratory type. The French mask was a very small [and kept] in a type of knapsack, whereas the British respirator mask was quite sizable.

It was quite bulky, but it was very comforting to have these on our person all the time. They became more necessary as we went into the future battle operations.•

sector. I had not heard them since leaving Haiti, and I have always associated them with our guerrilla warfare down in that country.

About this time I was fortunate to be assigned to a new dugout which was much improvement over the one I had occupied with Farwell and Mack, and really it was very comfortable. In contrast to the first one that I had occupied at Sommedieu, I had my own room, which was quite elaborate, well built by the French who preceded us in its occupancy. It had a cot, two tables, two benches, a stove, many

14. Out of the 250 men serving with this unit, 235 were evacuated to hospitals; 11% would die within 72 hours following the bombardment.

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little shelves built into the wall all covered with tar paper on which is tissue paper covering. Really very swanky. My predecessor, a French officer, had many framed illustrations from La Vie Parisienne.15 I observed at the British front and again in the French sectors here in the Verdun area that the British and French decorated their dugouts with unattired women, taking their pictures from the various magazines such as La Vie Parisienne. It reminded the male that there were females in existence somewhere, even though we in the front never saw any. These illustrations illustrated real artistry and was not as offensive as one might think. The Frenchman, of course, has a great affinity for the illustrations of nude women.

This new dugout seemed quite commodious to me and I knew I would loathe leaving it, really not foreseeing that a great deal of my future months would be spent in cellars and old barns and open trenches and right on the open terra firma itself.

I had an amusing experience one particular day after we had been in the Sommedieue sector for some time when a representative of the Division Surgeon’s office, who wanted to see how we were keeping up on medical records and paper work at the front, was introduced to shelling. I walked him for four hours over trails along tortuous trenches, visiting every aid station [to show] him how our medical officers lived forward along the

...often night was greater shelling than even the daytime, because at that time there were quite heavy barrages put down of various calibers and types of shells. We were really under the guns of the enemy. Very wearying to be shelled so much, and when we have a day or few hours respite, it is very relaxing. Separated from the normal activities of life and leading a very abnormal life under difficult circumstances and with very few comforts and always thinking of our loved ones back home... front line, also, how the trenches were built and where they were built, [and] how men are assigned to them. While we were up in these forward areas, the Boche16 gave us some uncomfortable thrills on several occasions that day. This division representative returned to my dugout very fatigued, mentally disturbed, and convinced that the paper work and theoretically [the] treatment of records as outlined by swivel-chaired officials was impracticable. I wished at that time that

many more visitors would come forward from rear areas to see exactly how officers and men had to perform their duties and where.

We were unhappy of criticism from those in the rear who were unfamiliar with circumstances at the front in appraising how we were carrying out duties from higher authority than those right in our regimental zone. The latter understood our predicaments in executing paper work. Those of us who were in the forward areas with the men in the trenches were most zealous in trying to make them as comfortable as possible by doing everything for them.

There was a great deal of work to do in the trenches in the Sommedieue sector caring for our medical personnel and the fighting man. Of course, my work was more with the 1st Battalion and with the entire 6th Regiment than with higher echelons, but I did have contact with the various and sundry subdivisions of the division, even though it is out of the zone of the 6th Regiment. I kept in contact with the Regimental Surgeon of the 5th Marines and working in close harmony, kept our two regiments’ medical departments coordinated. Of course, as we were all naval medical personnel, we had much in common and understood each other’s point of view and we therefore become a team.

It was while in the Verdun area that we first saw airplanes. While we were there they became more and more active. The planes that protected us and supported us

15. A French entertainment magazine featuring arts, sports, and gossip articles and famous for its illustrated covers. In World War I, the magazine became popular among service personnel for its mildly erotic artwork. The publication became more popular after being decried as vulgar by General Pershing.

16. “Boche” meaning essentially “Blockhead” was an Allied nickname for German soldiers in World War I.

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“Gassed� by John Singer Sargent, Oil on canvas, 1919 courtesy of the imperial war museum

were French. We had no American planes in this area that we were aware of.

With the passing of time the shelling became more and more a daily and nightly occurrence. Often night was greater shelling than even the daytime, because at that time there were quite heavy barrages put down of various calibers and types of shells. We were really under the guns of the enemy. It is very wearying to be shelled so much, and when we have a day or few hours respite, it is very relaxing. Separated from the normal activities of life and leading a very abnormal life under difficult circumstances and with very few comforts and always thinking of our loved ones back home, if we and when we did come upon some literature, some verse, some newspaper account, some magazines strayed into our area, we would read it with great interest.

Doctor Mack was anxious for me to take him on a hike up through page 42

the trenches. He had not had an opportunity to go to the farthermost area in our sector, Sommedieue. Of course, he had gone through some of the trenches, but not to a more active area where I was anxious to show him. He was always interested and perfectly willing to go on any walk we took as far forward as possible. Mack was a man of great courage, interested in everything pertaining to the officers and men of our regiment. He was an outgiving sort of fellow and would take on any chore which was assigned to him or requested of him.

The trenches at Verdun were a complex network.

They had been occupied for a number of years. You could readily get lost in them, because they were so extensive.

The trenches at Verdun were a complex network. They had been occupied for a number of years.

You could readily get lost in them, because they were so extensive.

Of course, I had the pioneering instinct and liked to explore them, even the unknown ones. [While traversing the trenches,] I always enjoyed the companionship of my cane, even though I took no one else with me. A man and his cane become great friends, I have learned. In this instance a cane was a great defender and protector.

When we first approached the men in the trenches, they seemed serious and stern looking because they had very serious business to conduct, but as we would enter a light conversation, they would break out in smiles, no matter whether it was raining or whether [there] was considerable sunshine.

It was interesting to Mack to see how clean the men were keeping themselves under very adverse

circumstances and with scarcely any water to do so. Many of them he saw shaving, using the back of a watch for a mirror. Of course, they had to use any water very sparingly, because the only water they had in most instances, unless there was some spring or brook near them, was what they took out of their canteen. They never knew when it might be replenished, so they used it very, very sparingly.

Late in April in the Sommedieue sector, I decided to draw an Army field uniform. That was Army breeches and field coat. The Army uniform became the only available through the quartermaster, even [through] the Marine quartermaster after we had gotten up to this area. I felt much more comfortable when in my Marine Corps green than I did in the Army Khaki. It was a very drab uniform, kind of grayish-brown, that we had in France of rather rough material, but it took the beating given it by

all sorts of weather and getting very wet and covered with mud.

The only way we had to [keep] our clothes dry was to keep them on and they would dry from the heat of the body.

Our trench feet had not been cured until I acquired the trench foot in November, staying with me up until April with long time periods of recurrence after that. Care of feet is one of the most important things a soldier has to give to his person when he is in the combat areas. The ulcerations on toes with trench foot is very obstinate, very difficult to heal and particularly when one has to be in wet socks and soaked shoes for long periods.

We had a great, great many cases of trench foot to treat and nightly they had to give attention to the men who suffered with it. Of course, long watches were very painful and caused one a great deal of discomfort. One could not give in to any such disability, but had to carry on.

It was certainly re-spiriting when spring came upon us and we saw violets, lily of the valley, and many beautiful spring flowers on the countryside. It was good to have real warm sunshine after the dark, drab, cloudy, rainy days that we had experiences for so many months.

It was in this area that we were introduced to graves and little cemeteries along many of the roads and foot paths alongwith the remnants of shell holes. In the months ahead, we became very familiar with the the desolation and the waste of entire towns and villages, shattered buildings of various sorts, and the complete absence of civilian populations.

Rats seemed to be omnipresent in the Sommedieue sector, both in our dugouts or adjacent areas, and

they were almost as big as kittens in the trenches. They really almost became pets for the men standing watches. They didn’t seem to disturb the men whatsoever.

We departed from Sommedieue sector in the Verdun area on May 14, 1918. This completed our trench training and experiences prior to going into open warfare, a fact we were unaware of at the time we left Verdun area.

One could not be unconscious of the historic area of Verdun where the French had fought so valiantly for a long period of time and had lost such tremendous numbers of men in battle. Throughout all the war and other wars this area had been one of intense fighting.•

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Navy Medicine at Belleau Wood Hunting Lodge-Belleau Wood

By Jean-Felix Bouchor, Ca. 1918 Courtesy of National Museum of the Marine Corps

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W

e were loaded, as it were, on trains consisting of third class coaches, which meant we sat up on very hard wooden benches with high straight backs, sitting very close together without any cushions or anything between us and the very hard seats. Each two rows of benches or seats faced each other. [We] sat this way for several days and nights, adding very much to our fatigue.

We would doze off many times but without getting really sound sleep.

We went from the Verdun area toward Bar-le-Duc.1 We were awakened during the night at railroad operating stops where the French provided us coffee [with] brandy in it. We took it, even if it was midnight or three o’clock in the morning, because that’s when it was provided to us. I can’t remember whether the brandy coffee woke us up or made us more sleepy, but it certainly made the seats more bearable. When the coffee was first offered to us, I had refused it on several occasions. Then I was so exhausted, I succumbed and accepted it and found it was very good medicine under the circumstances of tough travel and war.

The country from which we passed—from Souilly to Bar-le-Duc —was among the most beautiful that I had seen up to this time. It was springtime, which made it particularly lovely. The green grass was very impressive as we traveled, as were the budding trees and the lovely vegetation, seen looking out of the train windows. Perhaps it seemed even more beautiful to us, [as] it was restful and peaceful and the rural communities in contrast

to the trenches in the Verdun-St. Mihiel sector from which we had just come.

From Bar-le-Duc we got to Vitry-le-Francois.2 It was in this area that we stopped for a few days. It seemed so peaceful after what we had seen and where we had been in the Verdun area. Working in the fields were mostly women and old men and some children of an age that could do such labor. We saw none of the middle-aged group of men. They were with the military.

The Marines were billeted in several small towns and villages in this area. I was assigned with the paymaster to a house with small room, but we had a sitting room between our two separate bedrooms. We did not have a great deal of time to rest while we were here because there was so much to do in looking after the troops and getting replenished and trying to get some new equipment.

Houses in these towns were entered by coming through the stable or driveway to a courtyard [full of] small animals. Of course, the odor was sure rural.

It was very delightful to see when one goes out in the morning a maid turning over a spoonful of wonderful rich cream and bringing dozens of beautiful eggs which we could use. There were many horses and cows and chickens and we were able to get fresh meat, beef and lamb, chickens and even turkey. The French are great ones for [cooking ]rabbits, so we had quite a few rabbits while we were there.

Of course, the place was full of flies, with the cattle accountable for that.

We moved on again in a few

1. Bar-le-duc is the capital of Meuse Department 2. Vitry-le-Francois-commune in Meuse Department located on the Marne River.

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days to another area. It was strange, as we looked back in retrospect, that the route we took from the Verdun-St. Mihiel area was across and down at Bar-le-Duc and Vitry-le-Francois and then to Eperney3 across to the northwestern and northern part of Paris. This was really a very lovely part of France.

Of course, we had not the slightest idea that we would ever be in this area again.

In the Isle Adam4 area [on May th 20 ] there was a beautiful chateau,5 to which I was one of the officers assigned for billeting. It was the most comfortable abode that I had had up to that time in France, with the exception of the times that I had been in Paris and stayed at very comfortable hotels on several occasions. This area seemed to be richer than most of the areas that we had seen, because there were a number of lovely dwellings and several beautiful chateaus. The one we were in was owned by a rich baron, who apparently, had left his home here and his lovely gardens and orchards and fields and evacuated himself to southern France, leaving everything intact in the chateau, including his old servants to look after troops that would be billeted in his home. All young and middle-aged men were in the military, and so the servants were the older group, both male and female. The village adjacent to the chateau, or in which the chateau is located, had 150 inhabitants only and I believe most of them must have been em-

When the coffee was first offered to us, I had myself refused it on several occasions. Then I was so exhausted, I succumbed and accepted it and found it was very good medicine under the circumstances of tough travel and war. ployed by the baron. He owned two large farms besides this magnificent chateau. It was evident that he was a great lover of horses, for he had very handsome stables. Besides the horses, he had a great many cows, chickens, ducks, geese, peacocks, rabbits, dogs, all with very competent-looking caretakers and servants to do all the work in this huge establishment.

Within the chateau was a beautiful marble curved staircase on either side of the extensive balcony. Along the walls were hung numerous Australian, Indo-Chinese, Chinese, and African trophies and placed on mantlepieces and tables against the wall; and there were jades, tapestries, very beautiful paintings, prints, old carvings, and furniture of various description and design.

It was really a museum in itself. All the rooms were tastefully and richly furnished. The large map of the estate was marked 1778. It all seemed very strange that an officer just recently off the battlefield or out of the trenches, as it were, should be living

here so luxuriously, even though for a very brief period.

I had a large room with, I remember, a very wonderful and comfortable bed. It was luxurious to sleep in it with beautiful linen sheets, pillow cases, and very fine blankets. The bathroom that I had was marble-lined. The house had beautiful chandeliers and very large salons where we could loaf, as we could in the lovely gardens. Flowers were everywhere in profusion.

The chateau and grounds were so spacious that we had plenty of room to stroll around in a beautiful environment. It was really heavenly after what we had seen and where we had lived for the past several months. There was time here to rest and read. I had to confine myself to French magazines, as that was all that were available in the chateau. I longed for the opportunity to stay here for a lengthy period.

While here the Marines engaged in large-sale maneuvers which were in preparation for relieving the 1st American Division at Cantigny.6 The men were re-equipped with fresh uniforms and fresh underclothes and change of shoes and socks, etc. They had plenty of time to get well cleaned up and rested up, except their training period was very concentrated and strenuous, but they got a full night’s sleep and did not have watches to stand or on any firing line or trenches.

While we had heard rumors of what the situation was at the front, we were without any orders to leave

3. Eperney is a commune in Meuse Department located on the left bank of the Marne River.

4. L’Isle Adam is located on the Oise River in northern France.

5. The chateau Boone is referring to most certainly in the Chateau de Serans.

6. The Battle of Catigny (May 28-30, 1918) was the first engagement for AEF. The 1st Division was commanded by Maj. Gen. (later Lt. Gen.) Robert Lee Bullard (1861-1947).

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this area Memorial Day morning.

Arrangements were made in all the units and their division area to hold appropriate Memorial Day religious and patriotic services. In our village of Serans, we gathered in front of the chateau. It was a very inspiring service that we listened to. All of us were very, very deeply moved. This was our first memorial service for the dead of the Marine Brigade and I might say of the other units of the division who had suffered losses.

Of course, for us of the 6th Regiment, we had lost relatively heavily, and we felt the significance of the day very deeply. How little did we knew what the next Memorial Day would bring forth and when we would be honoring a great galaxy of the dead.

We received orders earlier on May 30th to hold ourselves for a moment’s notice of departure for an unannounced destination. We as a division were restless and chafing at the bit to get into action. We did not believe, here where we were billeted, that the Hun would be able to reach Paris, but we did not realize how threatening his advance was.

As a matter of fact, he did advance to within 30 miles of Paris.

[In the] late afternoon we had sudden orders that we were going to leave this area very expeditiously.

I regretted very much leaving the chateau but we certainly were not over in France for enjoyment. We were here on very serious war business and subject to any orders and

those that came even unexpectedly, as in the case on late afternoon of May 30th.

The orders to leave that late afternoon or early evening were delayed and we did not leave until early the next morning. Word had reached us about this time that the Germans had reached a point a few kilometers north of Chateau-Thierry.7 We really were thrilled with the opportunity to get into actual combat. We felt that our time at long last had arrived and we felt we were ready to enter combat.

The delay in our departure from May 30th to early in the morning of May 31st apparently was related to a change in orders. Whereas, as I said, we were to relieve by prearrangement the 1st Division in the Cantigny area in the Somme sector, it would have been taking us from our area almost due north in France; however, now we had orders taking us in an entirely different direction, as it turned out later to be in an easterly direction.

Rumors had reached us that the Huns8 had attacked a 30-mile front between Soissons and Rheims, making another charge over the Chemin-des-Dames.9 We suspected, when we first heard this news, that we would be thrown into the line, in view of our present location.

We felt confident that the Hun’s objective was Paris and, as we are on the fringe of Paris, it seemed natural to us that we would enter this battle of resistance against the

Huns’ drive. In their rush toward Paris we learned, the Germans had captured about 25,000 French prisoners and were making rapid progress.

We were informed that camions10 would be brought here for us to get into and depart very quickly late that day, but there was a long delay and we were retained there overnight, leaving very early the next morning on May 31th. It was thought that we would be going to the area at Beauvais11 to relieve the 1st Division. Shortly after receiving the orders we beheld many French camions, driven by Indo-Chinese,12 [and] appearing in the regimental area to be loaded with men from our regiment.

Instead of riding in a camion, Major Evans, our regimental adjutant, and I rode on the front seat of a GMC ambulance and we headed to the regimental formation. The personnel of the regiment were loaded into many camions and we set forth in a long dusty column.

Suddenly there was a halt in our formation when we saw a large Army staff car approaching toward us.

An Army colonel alighted from the staff car and approached our ambulance. The officer [asked] us to identify the outfit in formation in camions. Major Evans informed this officer that it was the 6th Regiment Marines and other elements of the 4th Brigade following in the procession. Major Evans informed

7. Chateau Thierry is a commune in Northern France and site of the Battle of Chateau Thierry (July 18, 1918). The battle was a major victory for the AEF and French forces.

8. Allied nickname German soldiers in World War I alluding to “barbarian” nature.

9. City in northeast France. Its cathedral was destroyed in World War I and served as anti-propaganda.

10. Trucks used to carry heavy loads.

11. Beauvais is a cathedral city in the Picardy Region of northern France.

12. Cambodians, Laotians, and Vietnamese

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the colonel that we were on our way to Meaux. The colonel said that it could not be possible that units of the 2nd Division were going in any such direction, because he and his general in the staff car were on their way to review the troops of the 2nd Division who were scheduled to relieve the 1st Division at Beauvais that day. Major Evans continued to insist that we actually were a part of the 2nd Division. The colonel then identified himself as Colonel Marshall,13 Aide-de-Camp to General Pershing, who, the colonel said, was in the staff car.

Major Evans followed Colonel Marshall back to the staff car to give the information he had given him to General Pershing. Pershing was very irate when he learned the identity of the organization who were going in a very opposite direction from which he expected it to be traveling. General Pershing apparently, from what he said, had not been informed, as Commanding General of the American Expeditionary Forces, that the orders to the 2nd Division to relieve the 1st Division at Beauvais and in support the front line had been changed without his knowledge.

All of us serving with the American Expeditionary Forces, while under General Pershing, were under the supreme command of the French.

General Pershing and Colonel Marshall, later General George C. Marshall, the Chief of Staff of the Army in World War II, had the staff car wheeled around and rushed off in a cloud of dust in the opposite direction from which it had been coming. We felt sure General Pershing was going to go to the Su-

preme French Headquarters forthwith to have it out with the latter as to why it had taken upon itself to order any of the American divisions from one place to another without his knowledge.

After the general’s car had left our neighborhood, the camions proceeded on their way toward Meaux. After driving throughout the late afternoon of May 31st and throughout that night, it was sometime the next morning when we came to a halt and were permitted to stretch our legs, and lie down in the countryside. Some of the enterprising enlisted men scouted the farms of the countryside for provender. I remember eating from a hot fire some freshly cooked chicken and rabbit acquired from some unknown place, [with] a bit of wine to wash down our meat and hardtack.

We were not permitted to enjoy this respite but for a brief period when we were ordered back into our conveyances. Again for many hours we were on the road driving. We passed through the town of Meaux and went forward on what we later learned was the Meaux-Soissons road or the Paris-Metz road, which traversed through the city of Chateau-Thierry to the south.

We entered a village about midnight which we learned was Montreuil-aux-Lions. We thought we were going to be there for a while, so the mayor’s office was taken over as the headquarters and I took over the school house for our medical department regimental facility. Homes and farmhouses were used for billeting the troops.

Comrades-in-Arms: 2Lt. Bradford Perin

L

t. Perin,1 our sergeant interpreter with the 6th Marine Regiment, shared a room with me, and I was very delighted to have him. He was a fine companion and very charming gentleman. He had served with the SSU2 ambulance organization before the Marines came to France. He showed me a poem he had written to his wife by candlelight in a dugout before an attack, called “Weep Not For Me.” Not knowing what might happen to him, he was inspired to write this very beautiful and meaningful poem.• If I should die in France, Weep not for me.

Proud in life, I, Proud in death would be, And proud men ill can bear Tear of sympathy.

If I should die in France, Sing then for me, Joy in life I’ve had, And jollity; And joy in death I’ll have, Weep not for me.

1. 2dLt. Bradford Perin (1888-1964) served as a liasion officer and interpreter with the 4th Brigade. He was also a talented artist and poet.

2. American ambulance units in France were designated “SSU” for “Section Sanitaire USA.”

13. Col. (later Gen.) George Marshall (1880-1959) served as chief of staff for General Pershing and was instrumental in planning the Meuse-Argonne Offensive.

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We unloaded and thought we were going to settle down for a bit, but very shortly received orders to reload into the camions. The ambulances and staff cars, as far as I know, were not with the camions that moved on forward in[to] the vicinity of what we learned was Ferme-de-Paris, which later became the headquarters of the 4th Brigade Commander, [Brigadier] General James G. Harbord, Jr., U.S. Army.14 He had been General Pershing’s Chief of Staff from the time Pershing sailed from the United States for Europe until he was made a Brigadier General. When Harbord became a Brigadier General, he was very anxious to surrender his staff duties, as devoted as he was to General Pershing, and get a field command. General Pershing regretted very much losing the services of Harbord as Chief of Staff, but he acceded to Harbord’s wishes to command in the field and even more graciously and generously permitted Harbord to pick any brigade Harbord wished to command.

Brigadier General Charles A. Doyen,15 U.S. Marine Corps, was the General commanding the 4th Marine Brigade. He was ailing and not at all well and it was recognized [that he] should be returned to the United States. Harbord, having the permission of General Pershing to select any brigade he wished to command, selected the 4th Marine Brigade. He was a superb commander of it in our initial baptism in battle.

After we had all been de-bussed

General Pershing and Colonel Marshall, later General George C. Marshall who became Chief of Staff of the Army in World War II, had the staff car wheeled around and rushed off in a cloud of dust in the opposite direction from which it had been coming. from the trucks at Ferme-de-Paris, we were ordered to march up the road with the units of our regiment being scattered to occupy strategical points along the line of the march.

Colonel Catlin, who commanded the 6th Marine Regiment, established his headquarters at La Voie-du-Chatel. The 5th Regiment Marines was also in our camion formation as we went from beyond Montreuil toward Ferme-de-Paris and then, traveled up this same highway by foot. Some elements of the 5th and 6th Regiments occupied Lucy-le-Bocage.16 The 2nd Battalion of the 6th Marines under Major Thomas Holcomb,17 U.S. Marine Corps, as ordered deployed across the wheat fields to the north of, and beyond the Soissons-MontreuilLucy-le-Bocage intersection. I was given orders by Colonel Catlin to take a station along the Soissons road to be prepared and collect and care for any wounded. This I did, unaccompanied by any Hospital Corpsmen or medical officer.

I was very tired after the long camion drive during which I could doze only as we drove along at the head of the formation until a stop [lasting] from about 1:30 until 4:30 that morning; I turned in on a stretcher for a couple of those hours and had a really good sleep. [While there] I found a spring, so I shaved and cleaned the best that I could and got some of the thick dust off my person. After I watched Major Holcomb and his battalion deploy across the wheat fields toward a woods with a farm off to his upper right hand side, I expected a Hospital Corpsman would be sent up to join me, but none did. I thought it might be necessary to establish some kind of an improvised dressing station although there were no buildings or no wooded areas nearby alongside this highway with the open fields on either side of it.

There was nothing to do after I saw the battalion Marines deploy forward, except to watch some aerial combat. At one time I saw some horses come out of a far distant wood. One horse was pure white.

It was very conspicuous, even to the naked eye. I later learned that this was part of a German cavalry coming to what turned out to be Belleau Wood.

Late in the day, as I sat along the roadside, I was aware that something was prodding me in my back, which, I discovered, was an exposed part of a root of a tree.

So I picked up my musette bag and moved about four poplar trees along the roadside up the road. Just

14. Brig. Gen (later Lt. Gen.) James Guthrie Harbord, USA (1866-1947) commanded the Marines at the Battles of Belleau Wood and Chateau Thierry.

15. Brig. Gen. Charles Doyen (1859-1918) organized and commanded the 5th Marine Regiment in World War I. 16. Lucy-le-Bocage is a commune in the Picardy Region of northern France. Part of a triangle along with Belleau Wood and Bouresches.

17. Maj. (later Gen.) Thomas Holcomb commanded the 2nd Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment. He later served as the Commandant of the Marine Corps (1936-1943).

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as I dropped my pack by this other tree trunk, a shell came over and hit at the base of the trunk of the tree against which I had been lying and uprooted it and threw it across the road. It was miraculous that I had moved just when I did, or this narration would not have been told.

It wasn’t long til Holcomb and his men were out of sight as they made their advance and scattered through the wheat fields. While I did not know it at the time, [he began suffering] casualties. I learned one of the first wounded Marines was Captain Donald F. Duncan, commanding one of the companies of the 2nd Battalion. Lt. junior grade Weeden E. Osborne,18 Dental Corps, U.S. Navy, who was assigned to that company, went to the rescue of Captain Duncan, and in the process of carrying him toward the rear where he thought it would be safe, they both received a direct hit which proved fatal to each of them. Osborne, as a consequence, was the first [naval] officer or man serving with the Marines in France to be killer. [He] subsequently was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor [and] the Distinguished Service Cross (Army), posthumously. I can remember him very clearly as a clean-cut, blonde, rosycheeked young man. Captain Duncan had a very fine reputation as a company commander and a leader of men. Their losses, being among the first we suffered, brought the war home to us very dramatically.

In the distance as I watched Holcomb [proceed to a] town quite

Navy Dentist Lt. (junior grade) Weeden Osborne would make the ultimate sacrifice at Belleau Wood.

BUMED Archives

some distance ahead of him. We later learned [this] was Bouresches,19 quite far to this right, was a farm which we learned was La Thiolet Ferme.

As night wore on and no wounded were coming my way, I exhaustedly picked out a roadside waterway to lie down and then tried to get some rest. The grass over the waterway was fairly high and gave me a certain coverage. I slept very soundly. At some time during the middle of the night, I suspect, I became sufficiently conscious that

there was some human being very close to me. At first I wasn’t sure whether it was a human being or an animal, but in the bright moonlight I discerned through my half-closed eyes a dark figure holding a rifle bayonet. The bayonet [was] glimmering in the moonlight and pointed right in the middle of my abdomen. I kept very still and thought very fast. I was uncertain for a fraction of a second whether to address this soldier either in German or French, as I did not believe there were any of our Amer-

18. On June 6, 1918, while serving with the 6th Marine Regiment at Chateau Thierry, Lt.(jg) Weedon Osborne (1892-1918) ran into a hail of machine-gun fire to help carry a wounded Marine to a place of safety. His brave act would become the dentist’s ultimate sacrifice; Osborne was killed by a shell becoming the first U.S. Navy officer to die in World War I. For his extraordinary valor in the face of death, Osborne was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Service Cross. On 20 February 1920, the USS Osborne (DD-295) was named in his honor.

19. Bouresches is on the northeast side of Belleau Wood and a little forward of it.

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ican troops right in that area that would be coming back where I was.

Fortunately, I selected to use the French language in addressing this soldier, holding [my] breath in the meantime. When I did so address him, he raised his rifle, which took the pointed bayonet away from my abdomen, and replied in French.

It was then that I realized that I had selected the proper language, which, no doubt, saved my life.

Had he been a German, this narration would not have been told. The soldier was a retreating Frenchman and when I had identified myself, he did not continue the conversation. In fact, he didn’t enter into any conversation with me but moved on down the road.

The next day, still being very much alone, I knew that I should get in touch with my commanding officer and therefore set out to find him. At this point I would like to narrate what I saw as we traveled from our headquarters at Serans and went and moved into an unknown battle area, which became later to be known to us as the vicinity of Belleau Wood. The infantry units of the division were on the march and bivouacked along the Meaux-Vincy. Orders were changed, as they had been more than once, for us to concentrate at a point on the Paris-Metz road beyond Montreuil-au-Lyons to which I previously referred. The change in orders were necessitated by the change of the battlefront during the night. It was surely an exhausting night of travel. For several nights there had been no sleep or very little of it and all of us were exhausted.

We saw endless miles of tired, exhausted, war weary, frustrated, dejected-looking refugees marching

Map showing location of U.S. Marine forces in Belleau Wood and surrounding areas, June 6, 1918. http://www.2ndbn5thmar.com/history/25belleau1918.pdf

toward us as we advanced in our conveyances. These poor refugees, no doubt, had known of no sleep for days. They trudged on southward in endless columns on every traversable road. In sheer exhaustion [many] refugees fell unconscious for a time being in deep sleep, but then would rise again to laboriously move their heavy loads and burdens in order to keep in advance of the oncoming enemy.

[At] times I saw a mother and a newborn or recently born baby against a tree or a bush in slumber.

Grouped around her like a hen with her [chicks] were her older children.

I saw two-wheeled ox-carts frequently drawing loads of hay which provided not only feed for the oxen, but beds for some of the [people] that were too old or decrepit to walk; or for the tiny little children who were piled on top on the hay on the carts to lie down. Oxen

drew many of the conveyances in their characteristically stoical fashion. They chewed on their cuds endlessly in what might have seemed to have been quiet meditation, unruffled by the confused disjointed world about them. It would have been blessed circumstance, if I could have had some of the same stoicism that the oxen had.

Many cattle and sheep were driven by little boys and girls or old men and women in advance of the marchers. The animals seemed as weary as the humans and really abstract looking, if they could have [such] appearances. It seemed that few dogs were left behind, as there were so many accompanying the marching refugees.

It was very easy to be moved to tears, as was my experience throughout the day while observing this procession of dejection and destitution. Thousands of human beings walking to an unknown page 51

future with their homes and their possessions, for the most part, left behind, which they never expected to see again. I was aware that for many this was not the first war that they had experienced [nor the first time] being driven away from all they owned and loved by a ruthless enemy.

During that day there were times when our own men would enter a village during the night. The men would enter homes to get a little rest, even at times as French inhabitants were just leaving their homes. When our men would enter they were kindly received when the occupants were leaving their homes the men would climb into beds which had recently been occupied.

This did not disturb our men one bit. They climbed onto the bedding full of dust and mud and caught a bit of a sleep before they were ordered to get back in their camions and move forward.

After having spent the night of May 31-June 1, I started back from where I had been standing watch for any straggling casualties on the Soissons-Meaux road and wended my way back from there to where I came to an intersection of the aforementioned road. [This] road, I later learned, led to Lucy-le-Bocage and headed for this town which I saw up on the side of a hill. As I trudged along the road, I came to a group of buildings which I recognized as a farm with a house and one or two barn buildings. I entered a lane and shortly after I saw leaning up against one of the buildings Doctor Ogden King, United States Navy.20 He was attached to the 2nd Machine Gun Battalion of the 4th Brigade. He told me some of the

machine gunners had gone into action and others were waiting for subsequent orders to do so.

There were no wounded in the immediate vicinity where King and I were. I asked him whether he could tell me where Colonel Catlin had established his headquarters.

King thought I could get more accurate information if I went to the town of Lucy, which I did.

I came upon some of the Marine officers and men here who directed me to la Voie-du-Chatel. There was a road from Lucy to the west to la Voie-du-Chatel which I traversed.

Upon entering the little hamlet I went into a house and found Colonel Catlin and some members of his staff. He said that they were trying to locate the various elements of the 5th and 6th Regiments and place them in surrounding areas beyond his headquarters. He told me in the barn in the little hamlet I would find Doctor Pratt, the Battalion Medical Officer of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines. It was good to know that he was in the vicinity, and I was delighted to see him again.

Pratt had set up a dressing station in this barn at la Voie-du-Chatel in support of his battalion, which was somewhat to the north of Colonel Catlin’s headquarters. I believe it was in the town or little village of Marigny[-en-Orxois], which was just a mile or so north of la Voie-du-Chatel, about a mile and a half away from the latter.

At the regimental headquarters, I was able to procure something to eat and I picked up fragments of information that were available as to what was transpiring.

I spent the next three days and nights with Pratt, taking my meals

at Colonel Catlin’s headquarters.

We learned that the French continued to retreat through our areas.

While at la Voie-du-Chatel, Catlin and I had a chance to discuss how we would cover our respective areas and look after the wounded and provide for the evacuation of casualities. While there, I learned that the two regiments would attack on June 5 toward what we learned was a woodland area of some dimensions, called Belleau Wood to the east and a bit northeast of la Voie-du-Chatel and also of Lucy-le-Bocage. As I studied the French maps that Colonel Catlin and his staff had, I looked for [the] best location for me to establish a regimental dressing station. The map showed a place was called Montgivault Petit. There was a Montgivault Grand farm just a little beyond Montgivault Petit. In discussing our plans, Major Farwell felt that he would stay at regimental headquarters and I would take some Hospital Corpmen and establish a dressing station at Montgivault Petit and be prepared to receive casualties when the 4th Brigade attacked on the 6th [of June].

So I left la Voie-du-Chatel and set forth to the Montgivault Petit.

When I arrived there the farmhouse was occupied by an old couple. There were several barn buildings, the largest of which was across the lane from the courtyard that contained the house and a sizable barn. I felt these barn buildings lent themselves most adequately for our dressing station purposes. I set up the main dressing station in a large portion of the barn where hay was stored where I would place wounded as they were received. I set up

20. Lt. junior grade (later Rear Admiral) Ogden Doremus King (1888-1974). King was awarded the Navy Cross for actions at Belleau Wood.

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a dressing station in another end of the building toward an orchard, finding a sizable wine cellar underneath the latter building, which was only a few steps from the barnyard outside of the barn proper. I was aware that by concealing the entrance to this store door as much as possible, we could use this wine cellar [especially] if there was very intense firing day or night.

The Marine Brigade commenced its initial attack at 5 o’ clock in the afternoon of June 6th, with units of the 5th Marine Battalion on the left flank. There was a central area some point between Lucy-le-Bocage and la Voie-du-Chatel.

During the attack I learned that Colonel Catlin took station in an open trench in an area forward of Lucy and la Voie-du-Chatel, [so] that he might watch the operations of his regiment to better advantage.

He unfortunately stood up in the trench as his troops reconnoitered forward. A very large man and tall, he was shot through the chest by a sniper and had to be evacuated.

He was cared for in the trench by Farwell and nearby Corpsmen, one of whom was Oscar Goodwin.21 He was carried to the rear for purposes of dressing his wounds. Farwell did admirable and courageous service in caring for Colonel Catlin, for which service sometime subsequently he was awarded a Distinguished Service Cross.

I remember very well standing behind a hedge of the orchard of Petit Montgivault looking across the plowed fields in front of Lucy and the ravine that ran down to the northeast of it. I was thrilled as I had never been before by that won-

Comrades-in-Arms: Lt. Quentin Roosevelt

T

he aerial dogfights which I continued to watch were between French and German aviators. I was not aware of American aviation being in support at this time. It might have been that, as it turned out, one of the fights that I saw was one in which Quentin Roosevelt1 was shot down—he being the youngest son of the former President Theodore Roosevelt. I met him for the first time in Bordeaux in the fall of 1917. His was the first casualty among the four sons who were in the military forces and who were the sons of our former great President Theodore Roosevelt.

Courtesy of National Air Force Museum

1. Quentin Roosevelt (1897-1918), the youngest son of former President Theodore Roosevelt, served as an American aviator in the war. He was killed in aerial combat in July 1918.

derful spectacle of those charging Marines as they leaped forward and ran to the wheat, some into the jaws of death and others to that goal which meant days and days of the most strenuous kind of toil and endurance and with the greatest kind of hardships. It took a long period of June before we actually acquired the whole woods.

As I stood in the hedge watching, Goodwin ran breathlessly up from the ravine [and] into the orchard.

I inquired what was wrong. He seemed so excited and running so hard. He said that he must have a stretcher immediately, but, as there were some enlisted men standing by, Goodwin did not feel that he should disclose the fact that Col-

onel Catlin, our regimental commander, had been wounded. I did not want to delay him nor ask any questions, for I have always had the greatest amount of confidence in Goodwin and I knew that I could always trust his judgment. He ran with the stretcher down the hill and was lost in the bush and the waving grain as he went into the ravine.

Not long afterwards I learned definitely the nature of Goodwin’s hurried mission and my heart sank within me, for it seemed that our cause must be lost with our colonel commanding our regiment to have to be evacuated because of a wound. Colonel Catlin at that time grew in great proportions into my estimations and his loss seemed

21. Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Oscar Sexton Goodwin (1894-1976) attached to the Regimental Headquarters of the 6th Marine Regiment, Goodwin was the recipient of three Navy Cross and three Silver Stars for actions in World War I. Goodwin would later return to school and become a physician.

He later operated a private medical practice in Apex, N.C.

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irreparable for our regiment. He taught us practically everything we knew about modern warfare and had organized us into a solid little regimental family group.

It was some time after this that I learned by accident that young Goodwin made four distinct trips to serve Colonel Catlin from Lucy to where the colonel was wounded and back again to Lucy through the most intense machine gun fire in order to secure a stretcher and an ambulance to evacuate the colonel. Goodwin also helped us carry him to safety. This was only one of many, many courageous acts that Goodwin performed during the war. He was a tower of strength among the Hospital Corpsmen and became the one closest to me as I traversed into the forward areas time after time, night and day. He seemed to be without any evidence of fear, had tremendous endurance.

I characterized him later during the war and repeatedly as one with extraordinary courage and one who demonstrated magnificent heroic acts. I considered him one of the bravest men in the Marine Brigade and I repeatedly recommended him highly for awards.

When Colonel Catlin was shot on June 6th, his second in command, Lt. Col. Harry Lee, took over the 6th Regiment and continued to command it from June 6th until the termination of the war, even when it took station along the Rhine Bridgehead subsequent to the Armistice. For a period he acted as Brigade Commander of the 4th Brigade in an interval between permanent assignment of a new commander to the Brigade.

Casualties were very heavy from the Belleau Wood area. Besides Belleau Wood, there were the adjacent towns to be captured as well. A lot of the fighting was close order with cold steel. Huge boulders gave wonderful protection for the Germans and provided excellent machine gun nests for them. Without the artillery it was impossible to get them out.

Throughout the night of June 6 , my dressing station received casualties, both Marine and French.

The French continued to retreat between our American forces.

This dressing station that I had the foresight to establish at Petit Montgivault we occupied for approximately six weeks. This dressing station was located in front of a small creek bed which passed under a culvert on the road which ran from Lucy-le-Bocage to Bouresches.

Doctor Francis E. Locy,22 a regimental officer of the 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, and Doctor Cornelius H. Mack, a dental officer of that regiment, manned it very heroically with some Hospital Corpsmen for a number of weeks. This culvert dressing station provided no comforts whatsoever, except some straw on which officers and men to lie. It was bisected by a stone wall which helped support the overhead road.

The only protection they had was from the side walls and the stone th

and concrete roadbed above them.

It was a very confined space in which to live and work and it was repeatedly subjected to great harassment. It was a very, very dreary and dangerous abode.

The stretcher bearers traversed this ravine innumerable times day and night during the six weeks that we were in this particular area.

This entire ravine was under tremendous harassment all the time that we were in that area. Naturally, the Germans wished to deny the ravine from us, as well as the entire Belleau Wood. We were not able to capture it until June 25th, and we only did so [only] after a long and vicious bombardment from our artillery before the Marines moved in with rifle and bayonet.

Casualties were very heavy from the Belleau Wood area. Besides Belleau Wood, there were the adjacent towns to be captured as well. A lot of the fighting was close order with cold steel. Huge boulders gave wonderful protection for the Germans and provided excellent machine gun nests for them. Without the artillery it was impossible to get them out.

Petit Montgivault was a wonderful location for a dressing station, as it turned out, because it was a focal point at the point of a triangle made

by Lucy-le-Bocage, Belleau Wood, and Boresches. As the Marines advanced, of course, the distance we had to traverse to get the wounded back to my dressing station was longer and longer and much more difficult. The woods were very thick with a lot of undergrowth, besides the boulders of huge proportions that were in them, making the

22. In addition to his service in Haiti and France, Lt. Cmdr. Francis Eastman Locy, Medical Corps (1889-1932) may be best known for his research on Navy postmarks. The “Locy� postmark classification system is named for him.

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evacuation of wounded complicated and even more difficult than would have been the case.

The Germans threw a great deal of poisonous gas into the woods and the surrounding areas down this ravine, and with the heavy rains we had, the earth was saturated most of the time. Mustard gas particularly would stay in the moist soil for quite a period of time, and as it evaporated, would continue to throw out its poison, creating casualties for many weeks. To traverse the ravines in the Belleau Wood area was a very hazardous undertaking, and we had to do it night and day. My medical officers, dental officers, and Hospital Corpsmen, and stretcher bearers performed most heroic services, and they suffered heavy casualties.

In the beginning we, of course, used the “band stretcher bearers.”

It was thought over the years that that was the proper performance of duty for bandsmen. It was [this way] aboard the Wyoming in the fleet and it was over here in France, and they performed very heroic and self-sacrificing service. They went any place day and night to ferret out and carry wounded to our dressing stations. Their services were magnificent, but when we came out of the lines into a rest area for even a day or two, we had no band to provide music for the men, [even though] we knew music was good for the soul and did a great deal to “re-spirit” and raise the morale of the men in their extremely fatigued condition.

After we came out of Belleau Wood and found we were suffering from loss of bandsmen, and not having a band, I importuned

Navy Field Hospital Unit at Belleau Wood BUMED Archives

the commanding officer of the regiment to provide litter bearers for us from the Marines. While it reduced the combat forces, he recognized the reason and the need for my request and acceded to it.

From then on we had assignment of Marines as litter bearers, rather than bandsmen for the whole 4th Marine Brigade. I could not speak in high enough of the services of the bandsmen as litter bearers. The leader of the band of the 6th Regiment of Marines was Second Lt. Frederick Wilken, Jr., U.S. Marine Corps. He was an excellent leader of not only the band, but leader of men, and he performed very heroic services as a stretcher bearer.

I became very fatigued in our long period at Belleau Wood. I went two weeks at one time without removing my clothes, not even my shoes. When I did my socks had grooved into the flesh.

I had very little to eat [while at Belleau Wood] usually hardtack, sometimes coffee, and sometimes bacon which we would heat over a fire in our little pan. Later we were able were able to get some “bully beef ”23 and what the boys called “monkey meat beef.” We looked and lived like tramps in this old farmhouse.

I had become so completely exhausted that I would fall asleep sitting up or almost [leaning] against anything and if I could get to lie down on the ground or floor or stretcher, I would sleep from sheer exhaustion.

It was very terribly distressing when we saw some of the mutilations and horrible wounds that we had to take care of. I remember one night after finishing dressing a very, very seriously wounded officer with multiple wounds. We found he was none other than Major [Edward]

23. Type of salt-cured or corned-beef usually stored in canisters.

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Cole who commanded the Machine Gun Battalion of the 4th Brigade.

Sadly, he did not survive.24 This was a very shocking experience for us. We did not recognize him, as he was covered with mud and blood when we operated on him in our wine cellar. We were ready to evacuate him. He did not survive, as we say, but his remains were sent to the rear.

We hung up a piece of canvas at the wine cellar door to exclude any light being seen from without. We operated and dressed the wounded by candlelight. We had no dressing table, except [an] improvised one [made out of] litters. There were many amputations performed. We did our best to treat shock by large doses of morphine and keeping the patient warm as possible. We hung blankets over the patient who were lying on the stretchers that were elevated and provided some heat from a little stove that we put underneath it, using solid alcohol for heat. Due to the fact that there were a great many wounded that came to our dressing station at Petit Montgivault, there were large collections of rifles, helmet, bandoliers, etc., piled high out in our courtyard from accumulations over the weeks.

[On account of this accumulated material,] our dressing station was spotted by German aviators, and we were fired upon. We suffered a direct hit which took off a good part of the roof and knocked down some of the walls.

I had anticipated some such situation might occur sometime, so I had instructed the Corpsmen to lay the patients in the hay section of the barn parallel with the walls and

not out in the middle of the floor, believing if we got a hit, the timbers holding up the upper floor and the roof would collapse and injure the patients; whereas, if they were lying along parallel to the walls, the timbers may rest against the wall to the floors. That is exactly what occurred in our barn with many casualties in the section where hay was stored. Those who had been laid or had lain themselves up along the wall parallel to it were not further injured or killed. Those who had been permitted or did on their own volition elected to lie in the center of the building either suffered further injury or were killed.

When we got a direct hit ten of our casualties in this section of the barn were killed. We had to abandon this barn building adjacent to the farmer’s house. While we were in the other building which had been demolished [we learned that] the old gentleman of the farmer couple had hung himelf in one of the buildings of his farm. The old lady insisted on not being evacuated, but she was forcibly evacuated before we moved over to the barn.

These weeks in the Belleau Wood area had nearly exhausted me, for I had had very little sleep, very little food and no opportunity even to change my clothes or take them off. I had lived many times in a steaming inferno and the stresses and strains on the nervous system was tremendous. One could not let himself become emotional when he took care of so many of his comrades, some he knew so well and see of them horribly mutilated. There were times when I went out in the barnyard to supervise

Morphine

M

orphine in syrette form—a little collapsible, sterilized tube with a needle screwed on the top—was used freely. A wounded and a very shocked individual could tolerate large doses of morphine without harm to them. I was amazed that we did not have a great many infections at the site where we injected the morphine, because we had no material nor facilities to sterilize the skin. Of course, our hands were very filthy dirty and we made no attempt to clean them. As a matter of fact, we had nothing to clean them with before we injected morphine in the forward areas. The wounded were so shocked that they could tolerate large doses of morphine without any apparent deleterious effects.•

the loading of the casualties onto ambulances, [and] I would have to jump indoors to avoid being hit by the splinters from high explosive shells falling in the barnyard. It was shelled so heavily that the area surrounding the buildings out in the orchard were literally plowed by the incoming shells from the Germans.

There was a period for eight days and nights we were shelled. Many times during those days and nights we were miraculously spared.

After there was a lull in the fighting about the middle of June, I received a message from General Harbord, the Brigade Commander of the 4th Brigade, to come to his headquarters at Ferme-de-Paris to

24. Major Edward Ball Cole (1879-1918), commander of the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, was killed at Belleau Wood. He was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross and Distinguished Service Cross.

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confer with him. I trudged down the road for about two miles across the fields and along the highway.

When I arrived at his headquarters, the general said the only reason he sent for me was to commend me for my conduct in battle and for the efficiency of my work. He sent me to the second floor of his farmhouse where he had a bedroom, [and] directed his orderly to provide water for me in a large basin in which I could take a bath and give me shaving material to get a shave.

As I undressed and was standing in preparation for the bath, which I was looking forward to with great relish [after] these many weeks of being deprived of any kind of bodily ablution, the building received a direct hit on the roof. The first I knew, I was standing there in the nude and looking through a great hole in the roof to the sky. I quickly dressed, rejoined General Harbord, and said I thought I would return promptly to the front line.

Up forward we expected to be hit momentarily and we lived through that harassment day and night. It seemed to be more of a shock to be attacked with a shell unexpectedly.

However, before I left, I ate a very good meal which fortified me for my walk back and for several days to come.

After our dressing station was demolished we established a new one in another farm building. There was a quiet period. It was a Sunday afternoon. No shelling and everything seemed to be serene on our front. I thought it was a favorable time to scribble off some notes to my wife. I remember very distinctly sitting on a chair in the doorway with it leaning back, so that I could semi-recline and use my knee propped up to write the letter. As

Comrades-in-Arms: J.J. Bingham, U.S.R.C

W

e had in the 6th Regiment and at my dressing station at Petit Montgivault a Red Cross man named J. J. Bingham. He was a very heroic, [and] very dedicated person. The Corpsmen and the doctors all had great respect for him and [I] learned to have more respect and admiration with the passing of time. He was always willing to serve in any capacity, do any menial work, care for the wounded, helping to dress them just as a Hospital Corpsmen. Even though he had no special training, he was fearless, he would go any place day or night in the lines or go to the rear when he had the opportunity to get some kind of provisions or dressings for us. He seemed to be in perpetual motion.

One night when we were under very heavy bombardment and occupying the wine cellar of the Petit Montigivault barn where we had our dressing stations, I was sitting around with the Corpsmen waiting for the bombardment to ease. It looked and sounded as though we were going to be annihilated. The shelling was so intense the orchard seemed to be plowed up around us, and at times we would hear shells burrowing into the earth and against the walls of the barn. Fortunately, they were duds. If they had exploded, we would not have been able to tell our story.

When this attack was going on, I asked Bingham if he ever went to church and had any religion.

He said, “Oh yes. I have a church in Philadelphia.”

I said, “What do you mean you have a church in Philadelphia?”

He said, “I am a Methodist minister with a church in Philadelphia.”

I said, “I apologize for not having deeper respect and knowing this, because there had been a lot of profanity indulged in our dressing station and I will see to it that the officers and men desist.”

He begged me not to disclose that he was a minister and understood the language of the field. It was not offensive because he knew it was used to release tensions and he felt that the men needed that release and did not think anything of it. He endeared himself very much to the men. I think he served us all more fully and better by being his own natural self and being absorbed, as he wished to be, as a part of our fighting organization.

We never wanted to go into battle without “Bingy” being with us. He was of inestimable service in innumerable capacities and behind the lines he was indefatigable in doing everything for the men and for their comforts, getting them things that they could not have acquired otherwise, helping them have special recreational facilities and food when we were in any rest areas, and he really was part and parcel and fully absorbed by us in the Marine organization. We would have liked to have had him commissioned or recruited, enrolled in the Marine Corps which would have pleased him very much.•

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Marines at Belleau Wood (Oil Painting, 192-2-1)

by Frank Schoonover, ca. 1918 Courtesy of National Museum of the Marine Corps

I sat there with a pad on my knee and writing, I could see a dogfight of planes overhead high in the sky.

A few moments, this building to which we had moved from, received a direct hit and I was thrown violently off my chair across the courtyard into a manure pit. Subsequently I made dots at this point in my letter to my wife and [after] time passed, I was able to jot down that I had been rudely interrupted at this point.

My habit had been throughout the war to jot down fragmentary notes to my wife whenever there was a lull in the fighting or I was resting along a march or while watching some of the combat from a protected place. I would stuff these fragmentary notes into my pocket and then when I found an envelope or even without it, I would send these notes back to a page 58

rear area by a Red Cross man or an ambulance driver to put in the mail for me. Sometimes I would send them back with a wounded man whose wounds were not so severe that he would forget to mail the letters. There was a certain amount of solace in being able to communicate in this fashion with my wife, even though I didn’t hear from her for a long period of time and she only received my fragmentary notes or letters at periods of time.

When it was learned by my commanding officer that we had had a direct hit on the second building, we were alerted to evacuate the Petit Montgivault area for use as a dressing station. This occurred on June 15. The Hun, no doubt, now well knew that our location here was an excellent target and he wished to destroy it completely, so that we could not use it for the pur-

pose nor as a place to bring up our food carts and distribute food to the fighting elements up in Belleau Wood.

Order was set for us to move at 8 o’ clock in the evening, but we hurried up preparations to do so and were out by 7:15 that evening.

Of course, we thought we may not be able to get away before another shell would find its mark and further damage us, if not completely destroy these buildings and annihilate us. While I had had many other close calls prior to this one, I was so fatigued that I was more apprehensive that this one may take us to the Great Beyond. Sixteen days of continuous fighting and under tremendous harassment and deprivations was a long period to inflict on human bodies. I can well certify that this was a period of perfect hell.

I remember at one period of nine days I had only catnaps, at the most an hour sitting up against a wall or lying on the floor in the wine cellar or if a stretcher was free, I would get some particular comfortable rest on it.

As soon as we got out of the line of fire and back in the area of Montreuil again, we happened to find a London Daily Mail. The Daily Mail told of some tense fighting in this area and of our holding, [and] repulsing the enemy from most important battle area. There was great praise for our exploits.

When our Division Surgeon, Colonel Morrow,25 conferred with the Medical Inspector of the 6th French Army to obtain instructions as to evacuation of wounded when we moved into the Meaux area, he was informed that all wounded must be sent to Paris. The French flatly refused permission for us to establish our hospitals for non-transferable wounded upon the north bank of the Marne where Colonel Morrow wished to place it. The non-transferable hospital at that time was our Field Hospital No. 23.26 The French believed that the Germans would cross the Marne and any hospitals established north of it, including medical personnel and property, would be captured by them. In the prior advance the Germans had made

against the French in this territory, the French had lost some 30,000 hospital beds, so they were very skeptical about granting Colonel Morrow permission to establish any hospital facilities north of the Marne River. Morrow then requested that he be permitted to use a chateau in Meaux for a division field hospital purpose.

The first triage or sorting-out hospital [was] Field Hospital No. 127 for our division, established in a small church with a two-story schoolhouse adjoining it. This was in the little town of Bezu which was about two or three miles southwest of Lucy-le-Bocage. This church and schoolhouse facility was made an improvised and useful place for a division hospital to be used as a triage. The pews and desks of the church and school were removed and replaced by litter racks, each with its blanket-draped litter. Primus stoves were used to provide heat under the litters [while] retaining the heat as best as possible by the overhanging blanket. This was to keep the patient warm in an effort to combat shock, as one of the methods.

The little town in which this field hospital was located was in our division sector during the Belleau Wood fighting. It was of great concern to Doctor Derby that the nearest definitive surgical treatment facility was 60 kilometers behind Bezu. That would be about [37] miles, but the French would not permit it to be any closer. Small Ford ambulances were used forward of the hospital at Bezu at the

Lt. Francis Locy, MC, USN Bumed Archives

regimental and battalion dressing stations when the state of the battle would permit, and I must say the ambulance drivers were courageous fellows and took great chances in the evacuation of the wounded and were very dedicated to their mission. The larger GMC ambulances, while from time to time were pushed forward to evacuate wounded, [and] for the most part, were used in the evacuations from the triage to the nearest surgical hospital at Juilly, 60 kilometers away. The Ford ambulances were more mobile and could navigate the poor and the badly shot up roads better than could the heavier GMC ambulances. To emphasize what I said about ambulance drivers, there

25. Colonel William Morrow, USA (1866-1944) was the Commanding Officer, 7th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Division, A.E.F. in France. He was a recipient of the Distinguished Service Cross.

26. Field Hospital 23 (Meaux) 27. Field Hospital 1 (Bezu-Le-Guery) located in the Picardy Region of France.

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is no praise that could be too high for them. They were indefatigable in executing their missions and never evidenced other than great fortitude in the face of extreme danger. It was necessary to be calm and brave and daring of men, for they were more or less continuously when in the forward areas subjected to great harassment from the enemy.

At all our dressing stations, battalion and regimental, and collecting points, the Naval Hospital Corpsmen with the 4th Brigade became most expert in all forms of care and treatment at the front lines, even learning how to splint cases very expertly. They became very expert at bandaging, reinforcing dressings which had been put on by the Corpsman. They well knew to administer anti-tetanic serum and give morphine injections expeditiously. The morphine syrettes were a godsend which could be used instantaneously and we used it freely because we knew shock would occur very quickly after a wound.

The Thomas leg splint28 was a wonderful piece of equipment for splinting legs and arms. Many times the Hospital Corpsmen were much more expert in caring for the wounded than newly arrived physicians.

In our division, and due to the credit of Major Derby in a large part, was the expeditious evacuation of the wounded from the battle area proper. The purpose of getting to the best, most adequate medical facilities as quickly as possible to

remove them from the dangers and the nerve wracking factors of combat. When a man is injured severely, it is not long before his nervous system shows the state and effects of combat and the stresses and strains under which he has been exposed. Nervous or hyper-agitated, and he becomes a demoralizing factor to the unwounded, even to the other wounded. Every case, every casualty, as you say, that could walk was sent back by foot to the echelon stations in the rear as rapidly as possible and any man who could walk even at a great pain and effort by himself was encouraged and almost forced to do so.

Sixteen days of continuous fighting and under tremendous harassment and deprivations was a long period to inflict on human bodies.

Most of our casualties came from rifle fire, machine gun fire, and high explosive shells, but, of course, a large number of casualties were caused by poisonous gases.

Wounds were invariably infected from the dirty clothing and the contaminated soil. Not only did our troops have to be prophylactically protected against tetanus, but they had to have shots of tetanus every time they were wounded at the dressing station.

Many amputations were performed at the Petit Montgivault dressing and other regimental dressing stations or at some of the larger battalion dressing stations.

There was an inordinate loss of human limbs because in those days we had no recourse, or knowledge in which to prevent a very mangled leg from being amputated. We did very extensive debridemont at my regimental dressing station, radically excising soft tissue and bones.

The control of hemorrhage was a very essential procedure, as well as the treatment of shock by morphine and heat and supportive measures.

We had no antibiotics in those days, nor plasma. Carroll-Dakin29 therapy was introduced to our forces quite early in the war, but the supplies were limited. It was not a therapy that could be used in the front lines. It was very effective back in our hospitals, field hospitals and evaluation hospitals and, of course, in the base hospitals.

Throughout the time that we were in Belleau Wood and adjacent area, the evacuation distances were very great and meant a long carry for the stretcher bearers of the casualties. The men who could walk, even considerably wounded, had to traverse a long rugged area to reach our dressing stations.

Ambulances could not reach any farther than my dressing station in this entire area, could not even get into Lucy-le-Bocage because of the constant firing, more or less constant, on the roads approaching Lucy and from Lucy to Bouresches, so that my station was known as the ambulance head. We really cared for a great many hundred, if not thousands, at that station. It was here we received supplies from time to time that came in on the ambu-

28. Thomas Leg Splint- a metal splint for fractures of the arm or leg that consists of a ring at one end to fit around the upper arm or leg and two metal shafts extending down the sides of the limb in a long U with a crosspiece at the bottom where traction is applied (www.merriam-webster.com) 29. Antiseptic solution containing sodium hypochlorite developed to treat infected wounds. First used during World War I, Dakin’s solution was the product of a long search by an English chemist, Henry Drysdale Dakin, and a French surgeon, Alexis Carrel, for an ideal wound antiseptic (source: www.britannica.com).

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me to serve in this great cause and with these magnificently heroic men, [and] for his care of me under great danger.

I told my wife whenever she was able to read of the Marines fighting that she should know that I was with them, unless she had received official notification that I had become a casualty.

After a respite from the battle lines in Belleau Wood, we were relieved by the 26th National Guard Division, in a few days we had to return to take over. Our division was returned to the lines because the division that had relieved us had lost the ground that we had Standard Ford ambulance used by the taken or some portions of it, and American Expeditionary Forces in France. the Germans had made advances Courtesy of the Army Medical History Office into the relief division’s lines, recovering some of the ground they had lances and we transported them by war battle zone. Most of the men lost before. hand carry or on top of the stretch- coming in wounded and terribly, The fighting became so intense er as we went into the advanced terribly wounded rarely complained that I thought I was back in hell positions in Belleau Wood. Many of and they endured their hardships again. The fighting to regain the the cases had to be re-dressed when and suffering gloriously. ground that the Germans had taken they reached my station, as the I watched while waves of men away from the division that tempodressings were improvisations by attacked in formation across the rarily relieved us was most vicious. the individual casualty himself, for open fields with machine gun fire, It was a heart-breaking experience if he couldn’t apply the dressing, by rifle, and high explosive raining to go back into the line again and to the Corpsman under very adverse upon them. They went on and on, have to retake ground that we had circumstances and with very little some falling and some bravely risalready taken. The division that reto work with right in the open field, ing again to fall later, finally being lieved us had had very little experiin a small foxhole. Many times we shot down. They went undauntedly ence in combat and was not nearly had as many as 20 or 25 ambulanc- to rescue the coveted territory. They as well organized or as trained as es or evacuation trucks for evacuat- fought fearlessly, doggedly, stubwe were. So while we condemned ing patients at one period. bornly to gain the ground, holding them viciously at the time, in retroThere have been marvelous it, and then repulsing the enemy spect I realize that they were handdeeds of bravery and most everyas viciously as the enemy attacked icapped in holding very difficult one had displayed extreme courage our men. I was full of pride for the piece of territory. under the most trying, harassing work of our doctors, medical and Major Shearer30 had his battalcircumstances. The American has dental, Hospital Corpsmen, and ion up in that portion of the woods shown himself to be an unsurstretcher bearers. I offered many a and had not been able to clear it passed soldier, even at this relatively silent prayer of gratitude, first for out. He was very dejected and very early period of his entrance into the the opportunity that God had given low spirited indeed and was almost 30. Major (later Brigadier General) Maurice Shearer (1879-1953) with the 5th Regiment Marines in France was ordered to “clear the forest of Belleau Wood.”

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completely worn out physically by his very difficult attempt with his battalion to complete the Belleau Wood operation.

In my travels through Belleau Wood, and knowing the plight of Shearer’s battalion, I made a sacrifice of a possession very dear to me. Before I went forward from my dressing station at Petit Montgivault on this particular day, I remember very distinctly an amunition truck driver shared with me one of his cans of peaches. Even though I was terribly hungry and longed to stick a bayonet into the can and guzzle the peaches, I stuck the can in my musette bag when I was leaving my dressing station and went forward up the long ravine and in through Belleau Wood to the area where Major Shearer had his battalion. He and his men had been in the Wood for a long period with but scarcely any food. They had been very badly shot up and suffered a large number of casualties.

I never saw a person more dejected looking than Major Shearer, and I might say his men as well. They were very unkempt, very unshaven, and showed the evidence of long harassment at heavy fighting and the loss of sleep. Shearer was a very large man. Years before President Theodore Roosevelt had picked him out of formation in a parade that once he reviewed and was so impressed with the appearance of this officer whom he considered the most striking of any officer he had ever seen. Shearer now was completely exhausted with his spirits as low as a snake’s belly.

In visiting the companies of his battalion with him and seeing how starved he looked, I surrendered my greatest of possessions at the moment, the can of peaches, which page 62

5th Marines near Belleau Wood, June 17th, 1918 Courtesy of U.S. Marine Corps History Division

I insisted he eat, and he did with the greatest of relish.

I subsconsciously believed then that General Harbord had great faith in Major Shearer’s ability of accomplishment. He sent for him to have him come back to his brigade headquarters at Paris Ferme (Farm) which was about two miles or more back from my dressing station at Petit Montgivault and from Lucy-le-Bocage. Shearer worked his way back through the woods and down the ravine until he got out beyond my station and on to the highway between Soissons and Meaux and there a car or some kind or a conveyance picked him up and took him down to General Harbord’s headquarters at Paris Ferme. When General Harbord saw Shearer he realized that here was an exhausted man who looked terrible. He looked so unkempt, unshaven, dejected, de-spirited.

General Harbord, if he had it in

mind to give him some new orders of accomplishment, he well recognized, knowing men as he did, that he had to revive Shearer in some way. So he told Shearer to go in a back room of his quarters and relax and he would find something to help to relax him sitting on the table. Shearer found a bottle of Scotch whiskey, to which he helped himself liberally. In his exhausted condition it made it possible for him, no doubt, to burn up the alcohol expeditiously, although he was not a man without considerable tolerance of spirits fermenti. After he had finished his refreshments, he straightened himself up, walked in before the general and said, with a great military manner: “Sir, have you any orders for me?”

The general knew when he saw Shearer arrive at his quarters he could not possibly tell him why he had sent for him and with pre-hensive psychological understanding

of officers and men and being quite sure that Shearer had revived himself with the refreshments, General Harbord said, “Shearer, I want you to attack at 5 o’ clock this afternoon, even though I know you have few of your original battalion left due to the heavy casualty lists that you have suffered in this period that you have been in Belleau Wood.”

Continuing, the General said, “You are to attack and clear the rest of Belleau Wood of the Germans.”

And he said it with firmness and Shearer well understood the implication.

Shearer in a very military officer manner straightened himself up rigidly and said: “Yes, sir, I will do it” and hastened from the general’s headquarters back to rejoin his men in the upper limits of Belleau Wood.

He saw the transformation of Shearer from an officer to whom he could not issue such orders a few minutes before in his physically exhausted and dispirited condition, now realized that he could give him orders and that Shearer would execute them with courage and determination and he had confidence of success. Shearer had been told that before he attacked a heavy barrage would be laid down by the 2nd Division Artillery. An intense barrage was laid down which smashed to pieces a great many of the huge boulders, knocked down a great many of the trees, made it more or less of a clearing, drove the enemy under cover, killing a great many of them. At [the] appointed time Shearer and his battalion advanced

Comrades-in-Arms: The Unsung HM

P

enetrating chest wounds caused havoc many times for the victim. Early in the war, [I witnessed] an enterprising young Hospital Corpsman pinning together a gaping chest wound, using a safety pin between the skin and the subcutaneous tissue where a fragment of shell or bullet wound had entered the chest. I learned he did it intuitively and without any instructions to do so. This was a remarkable and amazing act, and it helped to prevent the entrance of air through the open wound.

While we knew we were using unsterilized safety pins when sewing together the tissues of

these chest wounds, it was amazing how [few] complicated infections we had from this. By the initiative of this Hospital Corpsman—and I am sorry I do not know his name— many human lives were saved.

After we acquired this knowledge, we taught the Corpsmen on all occasions when they found a penetrating chest wound, even out in the farthest front line areas and foremost dressing stations, to pin together the sucking wound with a safety pin. Medical bags had safety pins as part of their equipment for other purposes, never thinking they would be used for the pinning together an open chest wound.•

against odds and accomplished the mission Harbord had given him most successfully. The long battle for Belleau Wood which begain the first part of June was thereby completed before the month’s expiration. Every officer and man who had participated in that final operation, in fact all the operations in Belleau Wood brought glory and renown to their country, to the Marine Corps, and to the Navy. By stopping the German advance to Paris, they laid the groundwork for the [eventual] rout and defeat of the German Army in Europe by November 11th, 1918.

Premier Clemenceau of France and the highest military authorities

of France made the statement that the 2nd Division, and particularly the U. S. Marine Corps of that Division, which constituted the 4th Brigade, were unquestionably the saviors of Paris. Under date of June 30, 1918, Commanding General of the VI Army, General Degoutte,31 issued the following order: “In view of the brilliant conduct of the 4th Brigade of the 2nd Division, which in a spirited fight took Bouresches and the important strongpoint of Bois de Belleau stubbornly defended by a large enemy force, the general commanding the 8th Army orders that henceforth, in all official papers, THE BOIS DE BELLEAU SHALL BE NAMED

31. General Jean-Marie Degoutte (1866-1938) Commanded the VI Army towards the end of the War. In August 1918, he praised the services of U.S. military personnel at the Second Battle of the Marne. “Before the great offensive of July 18th, the American troops, forming part of the 6th French Army, distinguished themselves by clearing the “Brigade de Marine” Woods and the village of Vaux from the enemy and arresting his offensive on the Marne and at Fossoy...” (source: http://www.firstworldwar.com/source/marne2_degoutte.htm).

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‘BOIS DE LA BRIGADE DE MARINE.’” Our losses in the Belleau Wood and surrounding area operations had been terrific. My regiment was very depleted, as is the 5th Regiment. While the 4th Brigade has accomplished Herculean achievements, it has been at a frightful cost of human life, but it has given us spirit and new sense of pride in the American soldier and Marine to fight not only heroically and determinedly, but most successfully. Sometimes when my seniors expressed themselves that I was unwise to expose myself innumerable times, leave my dugout and a certain amount of safety to go forward in the most intense battle area, I responded to the call of duty, inspired to do so, I am sure, by a higher power than man. I did my duty to succor the wounded and, among the fighting elements, to encourage them and have them realize that a medical man was perfectly willing to be by their side even in the most intense experiences which they were enduring heroically. I knew I did not wish to be maimed.

I did not fear death. Having seen, when I was in the French hospitals taking the Army sanitary course, most horrible mutilated cases of face and hand and all parts of their body, I felt that I much preferred death to such a fate as what I saw in those hospitals among the French soldiers.

Besides that, I responded to the dictates of my conscience. It was my duty, I felt, also as a medical officer in charge of the evacuation of casualties of this entire brigade, front line to the ambulance head, to expose myself, go anywhere day or night where I thought my services would be needed and to be page 64

helpful and to hasten the care of the wounded and to hasten their evacuation to a place where they can be properly dressed and further evacuated to hospitals in the rear.

Every officer and man in the medical department worked to complete exhaustion and rose to work again.

I heard no complaints among them.

There was a certain amount of solace in being able to communicate in this fashion with my wife, even though I didn’t hear from her for a long period of time and she only received my fragmentary notes or letters at periods of time.

My Chief Pharmacist’s Mate, George Strott, was a very heroic person, one who inspired all Corpsmen, who was fearless and seemed to be tireless, used excellent judgment and upon him I depended very heavily, coordination of the work of the Hospital Corpsmen.

Upon one return trip down the ravine from Belleau Wood in the middle of the night and intense darkness, a barrage seemed to follow us step by step as we jumped from side to side or ran in circuitous fashion, shells of the barrage seemed to be omnipresent wherever we were. We ran over boulders, jumped over trees and through bushes, as we continued our conversation. We increased our speed the more intense the shelling became in our midst.

When we reached the culvert where we had a dressing station, we were surely comforted to get into some shelter.

We captured many prisoners.

We cared for them when they were injured exactly as we cared for our own men. We surely practiced the Golden Rule. We used the prisoners as stretcher bearers. In most instances they were responsive to our orders. Comparative few of our officers and men who came to France originally with the 4th Brigade and with whom we have been fighting remained with us. They had either been evacuated as wounded casualties or made the supreme sacrific.

There were a great many who have done the latter.

We lost heavily from poisonous gas thrown at us by shells of the enemy while we were in the Belleau Wood area. In those days we had a great many cases of “shell shock,” which we later learned was a misnomer. We learned that shell shock as time went on should have been interpreted as one of the three diagnostic entities: nervous exhaustion, hysteria, or concussion. Sadly, there were too many classifications of hysteria. Had we known more about the so-called ailment of shell shock, we would not have been so profligate and had found ways and means to have kept many of these cases in the forward areas or near by forward areas, restored their nervous system to more normal composure, and be able to re-use them. We depleted our forces by evacuating too many men with the diagnosis of shell shock.

Unless one has been a participant in the battlefield where the cold bayonet of steel is used, where there is close in-fighting, and where all caliber of shells utilized, the serious condition of wounded cannot be visualized. To understand the degree of wounds in battle can only be appreciated when one is very

Evacuation of Casualties at Belleau Wood BUMED Archives

close to the victim. Many of the casualties were in extreme shock, semiconscious or unconscious when found and evacuated to the dressing station. Some of them had been lying in the open field or in trenches for days before discovery.

After six weeks of fighting constantly [being] on the front lines, we found a number of comfortable chateaus [overlooking the River Marne] to occupy. It was one of the most peaceful and beautiful areas [and] this was a real peek into heaven, as it were. The men and I felt a very close bond because we had endured so many hardships together and now we were able to enjoy the comforts and find happiness in the loveliness and charm of this beautiful part of France. It was as joyous to me to hear their banter and their jokes, and realize that their nervous systems were now perfectly relaxed for a time. They were so worthy of it, for they had gone through per-

fect hell for weeks and weeks, and then it meant much to me.

Since coming to this rest area, we received many messages of commendation, published orders from highest command, including General Pershing, [whose] compliments meant more to us than if they had come from somebody who hadn’t had privileged opportunities. We considered him in every sense a part of the 4th Brigade and the Marine and Navy personnel.

He complimented the Marines by removing from his collar his cavalry crossed sabers from one side of the collar and having pinned on a Marine Corps emblem, which he wore throughout the war and for long period afterwards. We felt that he was always a Marine and that pleased him [to] no end. Of course, he kept his U.S. [Army] insignia on the opposite side of the collar from where he had the Marine Corps emblem.

While we were in this rest area on the Marne, Brigadier General Harbord received his promotion to Major General. This was an occasion of great rejoicing among us who served under him, with him.

We felt his promotion had some in some measure, maybe in very large measure, [been] through the wonderful job that the 4th Brigade had turned in under his command. We learned that he had gone from the rank of Major to Major General in a little over two years’ time. General Pershing came up to our area to have lunch with General Harbord.

They were the closest of friends.

Now Harbord would become our Division Commander, rather than the Commander of the 4th Brigade.

That delighted the entire division.

The 25th of June was the day that Major Shearer made the final attack on the remnant [of Germans at] Belleau Wood to the glorification of the 4th Brigade and 2nd Division, American Expeditionary Force. The rich nation of the United States of America acclaimed the accomplishment and the capture of Belleau Wood [as] one, if not the most outstanding feat, of the war.•

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Appendix A : Boone Timeline August 29, 1889-Born in St. Clair, Penn. to William and Annie Thompson Boone.

1900 –Mother dies following cervical cancer surgery at Hahnemann Hospital in Philadelphia, Penn.

1909—Graduates Mercersburg Academy in Mercerburg, Penn.

1913—Graduates Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia, Penn. Throughout his medical education Boone serves as an assistant to Dr. William Van Lennep (1853-1919), Hahnemann’s professor of surgery and spent the summers practicing obstetrics in poorer quarters of the Quaker City.

April 1914—Enters the Naval Medical Corps Reserves as Lt., Junior Grade. Assigned to Naval Hospital Portsmouth, N.H. where he serves as the hospital’s acting “chief of medicine, chief of neuropsychiatry and assistant in the department of surgery.”

June 1914—Marries childhood sweetheart Helen October 1914—Attends Naval Medical School in Washington, D.C. May 1914—Graduates Naval Medical School. Transfers to Regular Navy and sent to Naval Training Station, Norfolk, Va. August 1914—Ordered to duty with the Artillery Battalion, U.S. Marine Corps Expeditionary Force destined for Haiti.

October 1915—Takes part in Battle of Fort Riviere, Haiti September 1916—Joins the USS Wyoming (BB-32), flagship of the U.S. Fleet August 1917—Reports for duty with the 6th U.S. Marine Regiment in Quantico, Va. October 1917—Arrives in St. Nazaire, France with Regiment June 1918—Takes part in Battle of Belleau Wood July 1918—Serves with distinction at Vierzy braving extremely heavy fire to dress wounds in an unprotected field. Would earn Medal of Honor for actions.

November 1918—Participates in march into Germany with the Army of Occupation for duty on the Rhine bridgeheads.

February 1919—Reports to the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery in Washington, D.C. March 1919—Serves as Director of Naval Affairs at the American Red Cross in Washington, D.C. May 1922—Reports for duty as Medical Officer aboard the presidential yacht USS Mayflower.

May 1922-April 1933—Serves as Physician to the White House under Presidents Harding, Coolidge and Hoover.

October 1932-May 1933—Attends post-graduate course at Naval Medical School, Washington, D.C. June 1933— Reports aboard USS Relief (AH-1) as Chief of Medicine.

June 1935—Reports to Naval Hospital San Diego, Calif.

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August 1936—Assigned to Fleet Marine Force, San Diego, Calif. as Force Medical Officer November 1938—Joins USS Saratoga (CV-3) as Senior Medical Officer July 1939—Duty as Executive Officer and Commanding Officer of Naval Dispensary Long Beach, Calif.

January 1940—Serves as Force Medical Officer on the staff of Commander Base Force, U.S. Fleet December 1940—Reports to Naval Air Station San Diego, Calif. as Senior Medical Officer May 1943-March 1945—Serves as Commanding Officer of Naval Hospital Seattle, Wash.

April 1945—Promoted to Commodore and ordered to report for duty as Fleet Medical Officer for the Commander 3rd Fleet (Admiral William F. Halsey).

September 2, 1945—Navy Medical Corps representative at the surrender ceremonies aboard USS Missouri (BB-63).

January 1946—Designated District Medical Officer, eleventh Naval District, San Diego, Calif.

April 1946—Designated Inspector of Medical Department Activities, Pacific Coast with additional duty as Medical Officer, Western Sea Frontier.

May 1946-June 1947—Served as Medical Advisor to the Federal Coal Mines Administrator and as Director of the Medical Survey of the Coal Industry March 1948—Assigned to Secretary of Defense for duty as Executive Secretary of the Committee on Medical and Hospital Services of the Armed Forces. Simultaneously serves as Secretary of the “Medical Task Force of the First Commission on Organization of the Executive Branch of the Government” (generally known as the “Hoover Commission.”)

September 1949—Appointed Chief of Joint Plans and Action Division, Office of Medical Services, Department of Defense March 1950—Reassigned as General Inspector, Medical Department Activities. As part of his official duties he is sent on special mission to Japan and Korea during the Korean War by the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Forrest P. Sherman.

Proposes installation of helo-decks aboard hospital ships.

November 1950—Secretary of Navy determines him unfit to perform the duties of his rank by reason of physical disability and places his name on “permanent physical disability retired list.”

March 1, 1951—Appointed Chief Medical Director of the Veterans Administration. Serves for a statutory term of five years.

1955—Retires from position in the Veterans Administration and begins personal memoirs.

1969—Association of Military Surgeons (AMSUS) establishes the “Joel T. Boone Award.”

March 15, 1972—Dispensary at Little Creek, Va. is named in honor of Vice Adm. Joel Boone.

April 2, 1974—Dies at the National Naval Medical Center, Bethesda, Md. Funeral services were held at Arlington National Cemetery on April 5th.

January 16, 1980—USS Boone (FFG-28) is commissioned.

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Appendix B: Awards and Citations

MEDAL OF HONOR: CITATION: For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving with the 6th Regiment, United States Marines, in actual conflict with the enemy at and in the vicinity of Vierzy, France on 19 July 1918. With absolute disregard for personal safety, ever conscious and mindful of the suffering fallen, Lt. Cmdr. Boone, leaving the shelter of a ravine, went forward onto the open field where there was no protection and, despite the extreme enemy fire of all calibers, through a heavy mist of gas, applied dressings and first aid to wounded Marines. This occurred Southeast of Vierzy, near the cemetery, and on the road south from that town. When the dressings and supplies had been exhausted, he went through a heavy barrage of large-caliber shell, both high explosive and gas, to replenish these supplies, returning quickly with a sidecar load, and administered them in saving the lives of the wounded. A second trip, under the same conditions and for the same purpose, was made by Lt. Cmdr. Boone later that day. By his inspiring valor, steadfast perseverance, and selfless, dedication to duty, Lt. Cmdr. Boone reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.

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DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS: CITATION: For extraordinary heroism in action in the Bois de Belleau, France, on the 9th and 10th of June, 1918. On two successive days the regimental aid station in which he was working was struck by heavy shells and in each case demolished. Ten men were killed and a number of wounded were badly hurt by falling timbers and stone. Under these harassing conditions this officer continued without cessation his treatment of the wounded, superintending their evacuation and setting a high example of heroism to the officers and men serving under him. On June 25th, 1918, Surgeon Boone, followed the attack by one battalion against enemy machine-gun positions in the Bois de Belleau, establishing advanced dressing stations under continuous shell fire.

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SILVER STAR CERTIFICATES: CITATIONS: By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (MC) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, SECOND DIVISION A.E.F., for gallantry in action and a silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces.

Throughout the period of operations against the enemy from 1 to 10 June 1918, he rendered conspicuous service in the treatment and evacuation of the wounded. He was under heavy shell fire for days. When the Regimental Aid Station was struck and men were killed in the immediate vicinity, he showe3d rare fidelity to duty and, through his shining example, urged officers and men to renewed efforts and displayed a high type of executive ability.

General Orders: 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 40 (1918) Action Date: June 1 - 10, 1918 By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (MC) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, SECOND DIVISION A.E.F., for gallantry in action and a silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, in action against the enemy near Thiaucourt, France, on 12 to 15 September 1918. Lt. Commander Boone went to the front line and personally located and placed in operation the battalion dressing stations. All during the operation the ground which he covered was being subjected to a heavy shell and machine-gun fire. This action on his part pertaining to his office was voluntarily performed and at a great risk to his life. The stations were skillfully located and his efforts facilitated the dressing of wounds and also the evacuation of the wounded.

General Orders: 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 88 (1918) Action Date: September 12 - 15, 1918

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By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (MC) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, SECOND DIVISION A.E.F., for gallantry in action and a silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces. Lt. Commander Boone participated in all of the engagements of the Division. He displayed great courage and coolness in establishing dressing stations under heavy fire, saving the lives of many wounded men by giving them immediate medical attention on the field of battle from 17 March 1918 to 11 November 1918.

General Orders: 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 88 (1918) Action Date: March 17 - November 11, 1918 By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (MC) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, SECOND DIVISION A.E.F., for gallantry in action and a silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 4th Brigade, 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces. Lieutenant Commander Boone showed great coolness and excellent judgment under heavy shell and machine gun fire while visiting the various battalion stations of the 4th Brigade and assisting in the evacuation of the wounded from the field itself.

General Orders: 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 88 (1918) Action Date: World War I By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (MC) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, SECOND DIVISION A.E.F., for gallantry in action and a fifth silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, in action against the enemy in the Soissons Sector, France, during World War I. General Orders: 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 64 (1919) Action Date: World War I By direction of the President, under the provisions of the act of Congress approved July 9, 1918 (Bul. No. 43, W.D., 1918), Lt. Commander (Medical Corps) Joel Thompson Boone, United States Navy, is cited by the Commanding General, American Expeditionary Forces, for gallantry in action and a silver star may be placed upon the ribbon of the Victory Medals awarded him. Lt. Commander Boone distinguished himself by gallantry in action while serving as a Medical Officer with the 6th Regiment (Marines), 2d Division, American Expeditionary Forces, in action near Thiaucourt, France, 12 - 15 September 1918, in placing in operation dressing stations under heavy machine gun fire.

General Orders: GHQ, American Expeditionary Forces, Citation Order No. 1 (June 3, 1919) Action Date: September 12 - 15, 1918

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The U.S. Navy “Over There”(99-064-N)

By Albert Edward Sterner, Ca. 1917 Courtesy of Navy Art Gallery

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Appendix C: Medical Roster, 6th Marine Regiment, 4th Brigade, 2nd Division American Expeditionary Force, 1917-1918 Dental Corps Badger, Harold A. Lt. (junior grade) joined 28 August 1918 Benepe, Louis M. Lt. Mack, Cornelius H. Lt. Medical Corps Boone, Joel T. Lt. Cmdr. joined August 29, 1917 Byrnes, William A. Lt. (junior grade) joined August 26, 1918 Curtner, Myron Lt. Farwell, Wrey G. Lt. Cmdr.

Gill, William T. Lt. (junior grade) joined June 12, 1918 Grimland, Gordon A. Lt. (junior grade) joined June 18, 1918 Hatcher, Charles M. Lt. Huffman, Lester D. Lt. (junior grade) joined September 18, 1918 Lawhead, Albert O. Lt. Leu, Raymond H. Lt. (junior grade) joined August 21, 1917 Locy, Francis Lt. Michael, William H. Lt. Cmdr Trowbridge, Stuart J. Lt. (junior grade) joined September 6, 1918 Walker, Sidney, Walker Lt. White, George L. Lt. (junior grade) joined September 17, 1917 Whitmore, William H. Lt. Wimberly, Robert William Lt. Pharmacists (Warrant Officer) Chief Pharmacist Leon Pharmacist George G. Strott Hospital Corps Alcorn, Edward Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Allen, Joseph William Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined September 11, 1918 Anderson, Allen Lorn Hospital Apprentice First Class Babcock, Jay Blaine Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Balch, John H. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined July 27, 1917 Barker, Leonard Morris Hospital Apprentice First Class joined July 26, 1917 Beach, William Rowley Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Beaird, Patrick H. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 18, 1918 Beckett, Jesse Claude Pharmacist’s Mate First Class joined September 5, 1917 Bennett, Morton Lee Hospital Apprentice First Class Benson, Charles Edward Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Benson, James Andrew Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Binkley, Denton Wallace Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Bone, Merlin Thomas Hospital Apprentice First Class Bostwick, Paul Reed Hospital Apprentice, First Class joined June 23, 1918 Bowles, Wallace Miller Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Bracken, William Jessie Pharmacist’s Mate, Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Brogden, Ronald Roberson Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class page 73

Hospital Corps (Continued) Brown, Carl Maxwell Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Brown, Raynor Riley Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Brownfield, Thomas R. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined July 27, 1917 Bullitt, George Wilcox Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Butler, Duncan Coor Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Campbell, Clifton C. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined September 11, 1917 Carver, Robert Roy Hospital Apprentice First Class Chambers, Roy Neil Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 23, 1918 Clark, Edward Leslie Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Clinton, Charles Phillips Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Cowan, William Lawrence Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Cowser, Marion Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 9, 1918 Cummens, Kenneth Amfin Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Currin, Oscar Walter Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Deners, George O. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Dent, Maclyn Eli Chief Pharmacist’s Mate DeWitt, William Thaddius Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 19, 1918 Diem, Frank Brown Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Dorton Joseph William Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Drury, Simon Eddie Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Durham, Clarence Roy Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Edison, Russell LayFayette Pharmacists’ Mate Third Class Elson, Lester Charles Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined August 28, 1918 Evans, William Bryant Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined April 20, 1918 Fifer, Urser Lee Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Fitzsimmons, Frank Lockwood Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Francis, Harry Keith Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Freeman, William Porter Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Gadau, Myron Lee Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Gale, Edgar F. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined September 11, 1917 Gates, Horatio Dwight Chief Pharmacist’s Mate joined June 19, 1918 George, James S. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 27, 1917 George, Nathan Clement Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Goggin, Joseph Dudley Hospital Apprentice First Class Goodwin, Oscar Sexton Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Grantham, James E. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined April 20, 1918 Grauer, Earl Self Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Gray, Gerald Collins Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Greer, William Bryan Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Groh, Edwin Phillip Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 19, 1918 Grubb, Richard Uriah Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 19, 1918 Gunn, Savala Eustace Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Hamilton, John James Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Hanson, Harold Edward Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Hardy, John Leland Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 23, 1918 Harrington, Luke Healy Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 8, 1918 Hauser, Otto Leon M. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Hayden David Ephraim Hospital Apprentice First Class Haywood, Merton Emerson Pharmacist’s Mate First Class page 74

Hospital Corps (Continued) Hill, Pharrow Pharmacist’s Mate, Second Class joined September 1, 1917 Hoffman, Clifford William Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 23, 1918 Hoffman, Curtis Raymond Pharmacist’s Mate, Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Hogan, Harold Eugene Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Holliday, Sam S. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Hollis, William Wayne Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 23, 1918 Hunter, Roy Morten Hospital Apprentice First Class Hurst, Charles Frederick Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 19, 1918 Irish, Clarence Melvin Hospital Apprentice First Class Javins, Rupert M. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 19, 1918 Johnson, William Charles Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Justice, John Ellis, Jr. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Kaga, Raymond L. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 12, 1918 Kearney, Everett Wheeler Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 19, 1918 Kingsbury, Carol Oliver Hospital Apprentice First Class joined August 19,1917 Kinkle, Clyde Allen Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 22, 1918 Lasater, Arthur Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Layton, Lester Kendrick Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 19, 1918 Leisure, George William Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Lester, Garland Edwin Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Lewis, Spencer Jay Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Linder, Isham D. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 12, 1918 Lindley, Albert Lowell Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 11, 1918 Litchfield, John R. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 26, 1917 Loomis, Frank Chester Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Lufkin, Nathaniel Hall Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 23, 1918 Lyons, George Dewey Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 19, 1918 Mangold, Merton Henry Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Manning, James Eugene Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Marks, John Humphrey Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 26, 1917 Martin, Hal E. Hospital Apprentice Second Class joined September 3, 1918 McGee, Henry Eugene Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 19, 1918 McGinnis, Goldsboro F. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 23, 1918 McNamara, Evert George Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined May 14, 1918 Megahee, William David Pharmacist’s Mate First Class joined June 11, 1918 Miller, Clarence Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 19, 1918 Moll, Joseph John Pharmacist’s Mate First Class joined June 12, 1918 Monroe, Joseph Allen Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Morton, Roger Quincey Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Muller, Ekard Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Mundorf, Lester Peter Henry Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Murphy, George James Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Nichols, Harland Addison Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 19, 1918 Nolan, Vincent A. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 19, 1918 Noonan, William Winfield Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Norton, Donald Culver Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 12, 1918 Olsen, Harold Ingrald Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 26, 1917 Omer, Lewis Moses Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Oyler, John Dickson Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 12, 1918 page 75

Hospital Corps (Continued) Perry, Abram Brokaw Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Perry, Newton Aretis Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Phelan, Francis Edgar Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Phillips, George Lewis Hospital Apprentice First Class Pierce, Edward Jasper Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Pierce, Frank Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Pilkerton, Alvin Ward Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 12, 1918 Potter, Clarence Winford Hospital Apprentice First Class Pyne, David Velorous Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Ratcliffe, Vergil Allen Hospital Apprentice First Class Reister, Junius Elliott Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Rose, Elmer Lewis Pharmacist’s Mate, Second Class Rubel, Bernhard James Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Sanderson, Otis Bryan Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Schaffner, Fred Charles Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined July 26, 1917 Scheidegger, Henry Hospital Apprentice First Class Schumucki, Bernhard E. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Smith, Emmitt Cline Pharmacist’s Mate First Class Smith, Thomas Ray Chief Pharmacist’s Mate joined June 23, 1918 Spence, Martin William Pharmacist’s Mate First Class joined September 8, 1917 Spencer, Douglas Howard Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Stanley, Albert Edwin Chief Pharmacist’s Mate joined June 23, 1918 Stanton, Leon Root Pharmacist’s Mate, Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Staton, Ennis Calvin Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 23, 1918 Stratford, Parke C. Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined April 20, 1918 Stephenson, L.E. Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 23, 1918 Sullivan, James David Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined September 18, 1918 Sullivan, John Byren Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Taylor, Leslie Robert Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Teater, Cecil Leroy Hospital Apprentice First Class Templeton, Percy Vincent Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Tuttle, Francis Albert Hospital Apprentice First Class Vorous, Francis Meyers Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Wampler, John Sevier Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Warner, Williard Morton Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class joined June 11, 1918 Weddington, James Lester Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Whalen, LeVeque Leo Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 11, 1918 Whistler, Clifford Russell Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class Whitacre, Charles Henry Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Williams, Clifford W. Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 23, 1918 Williams, John Quincy Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Wilson, Marcus Booth Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class joined June 19, 1918 Wisecup, Oliver Herbert Hospital Apprentice First Class joined June 19, 1918 Wyse, Fred Eugene Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Source: Strott, George. The Medical Department of the United States Navy with the Army and Marine Corps in France in World War I: It Functions and Employment. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1947. page 76

The Last Night of the War (60-381-G)

By Frederick Yohn Courtesy of Navy Art Gallery

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Pharmacist’s Mate First Class John Henry Balch Receiving the Medal of Honor. Ca. 1919 Courtesy of Naval History & Heritage Command

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Appendix D: Navy Medical Awards of Valor in World War I In World War I, Navy Medical personnel served in the 5th and 6th Marine Regiments and the 6th Machine Gun Battalion, all components of the famous 4th Marine Brigade, the most highly decorated American Unit in the war. The 331 Navy dental, medical officers and Hospital Corpsmen of the 4th Brigade would earn a total of 684 decorations and awards incuding six Medals of Honor, 42 Distinguished Service Crosses, and 75 Navy Crosses. Among these was Lt. Cmdr. Joel T. Boone, one of seven medical officers serving in the 6th Regiment, and one of only two Navy physicians to have been awarded the Medal of Honor in World War I. ***

Summary Medal of Honor Navy Cross Silver Star Medal Dental Corps (DC) 2 1 3 Hospital Corps (HC) 2 55 237 Medical Corps (MC) 2 19 25 Nurse Corps (NC) 0 4 0 Medal of Honor Name Balch, John H. Boone, Joel Hayden, David E. Lyle, Alexander G. Osborne, Weedon E. Petty, Orlando H.

Rank PhM1c Lt. Cmdr.

HA1c Lt. Cmdr.

Lt.JG Lt., USNR

Corps Activity HC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines DC 5th Marines DC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines

Location Belleau Wood, France Belleau Wood, France Thiaucourt, France Verdun, France Bouresches, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France

Corps Activity MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines DC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn. HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines

Location Belleau Wood, France Chateau-Thierry, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Vierzy, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Blanc Mont, France Belleau Wood, France Bouresches, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France Belleau Wood, France Chateau-Thierry, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Belleau Wood/Vierzy, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Thiaucourt, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France

Distinguished Service Cross Name Rank Boone, Joel T. Lt. Cmdr.

Dessez, Paul T. Lt. Cmdr.

Dickinson, Dwight, Jr. Lt. Farwell, Wrey G. Lt.. Cmdr.

Gill, William T. Lt. Hook, Frederick R. Lt. McLendon, Preston Lt. Michael, William H. Lt. Cmdr.

Osborne, Weedon C. Lt.JG Petty, Orlando H. Lt., USNR Pratt, Lester L. Cmdr.

Shea, Richard O. Lt. Bailey, George W. PhM3c Balch, John H. PhM1c Ball, Ernest B. PhM2c Bateman, Charles W. PhM3c Baume, John PhM1c Bear, Absalom F. HA1c

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Distinguished Service Cross (continued) Name Bird, Francis M. Bowman, Alvin L. Cochrane, Robert S. Fifer, Ursher L. Groh, Edmund P. Jamison, Roland R. Jennison, Charles S. Kingsbury, Carl O. Litchfield, John R. Manning, James E. Merkel, Edmo E. Messanelle, Ray A. Nolan, Vincent A. Nolte, William V. Peterson, George I. Pilkerton, Alvin W. Reed, Eugene B. Rogers, Benjamin F. Russell, Thomas N. Schaffner, Fred C. Stamps, Bernice B. Tenley, Eugene H. Tousic, Frank Yates, Frank R.

Rank PhM1c PhM3c CPhM PhM1c PhM3c PhM1c PhM2c HA1c PhM3c PhM3c PhM2c PhM2c PhM3c HA1c PhM3c HA1c PhM2c PhM2c PhM1c PhM3c CPhM HA1c CPhM PhM3c

Corps Activity HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn

Location Suippes, France Argonne-Meuse, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Bouresches, France Vierzy, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Blanc Mont, France Western Front, France Thiaucourt, France Thiaucourt, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Blanc Mont, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Thiaucourt, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Blanc Mont, France Verdun, France Jaulney, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Suippes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France

Name Rank Ball, Ernest B. PhM2c Barber, Wayne PhM3c Barker, Leonard M. PhM3c Barrett, Alfred A. PhM3c Bennett, Morton L. HA1c Bowman, Alvin L. PhM3c Bracken, William J. PhM2c Brogden, Ronald R. PhM3c Brown, Raymor R. PhM3c Brumbeloe, Algernon PhM3c Fitzsimmons, Frank PhM3c Gates, Horatio D. CPhM Goodwin, Oscar S. PhM1c Grantham, James H. HA1c Grauer, Earl S. PhM3c Greer, William B. PhM2c Herrman, Bernard HA1c Hull, Roy E. PhM2c

Corps Activity HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines

Location Blanc Mont, France Western Front, France Vierzy, France Western Front, France Thiaucourt, France Meuse-Argonne, France Blanc Mont, France Thiaucourt, France Blanc Mont, France Belleau Wood, France Bayonville, France Vierzy, France Thiaucourt, France Argonne Forest, France Soissons, France Blanc Mont, France Vierzy, France Chateau-Thierry, France

Navy Cross

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Navy Cross (continued) Name Rank Jarvis, Harry W. CPhM Jennison, Charles S. PhM2c Johnson, Joseph S. PhM3c Jones, George A. HA1c Kaga, Raymond, L. PhM1c Kinkle, Clyde A. HA1c Layton, Lester HA1c Lewis, Spencer J. PhM2c Litchfield, John R. PhM3c Lufkin, Nathanial H. PhM3c Mack, Cornelius H. Lt. Cmdr.

Mangold, Merton H. PhM1c Manning, James E. PhM3c Marks, John H. PhM2c Martin, Hal E. HA1c McKenney, Leroy N. PhM2c Medkirk, Forest T. PhM1c Moll, Joseph J. PhM2c Muller, Ekard PhM2c Pilkerton, Alvin W. HA1c Reister, Junius E. PhM1c Roberts, Harold C. PhM3c Rodemich, Lorraine PhM3c Russell, Thomas N. PhM1c Simmer, Tony PhM1c Smith, Thomas, R. PhM1c Staton, Ennis C. HA1c Strot, George G. CPhM Taylor, Guss L. HA1c Taylor, Leslie R. PhM2c Templeton, Percy V. CPhM Tenley, Eugene H. HA1c Thompson, Buford G. PhM2c Welty, Frank G. PhM2c Whalen, LeVeque L. PhM1c Wiley, Harry K. PhM2c Wyse, Fred E. PhM3c Crosby, Paul T. Lt. Dessez, Paul T. Lt.. Cmdr.

Dickinson, Dwight Lt. Farwell, Wrey G. Lt. Cmdr.

Gill, William T. Lt. Grimland, Gordon A. Lt.JG Hook, Frederick R. Lt. Huffman, Lester D. Lt. King, Ogden D. Lt. Cmdr.

Corps Activity HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines DC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 5nd Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines

Location Vierzy, France Blanc Mont, France Boursches, France Chateau-Thierry, France Thiaucourt, France Vierzy, France Vierzy, France Somme-Py, France Thiaucourt, France Meuse-Argonne, France Belleau Wood, France Meuse-Argonne, France Thiaucourt, France Belleau Wood, France Blanc Mont, France Champagne Sector, France Vierzy, France Western Front, France Blanc Mont, France Thiaucourt, France Belleau Wood, France Western Front, France Vierzy, France Argonne Forest, France Western Front, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne a Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Belleau Wood, France Bayonville, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne a Arnes, France Champagne Sector, France Chateau-Thierry, France Vierzy, France Vierzy, France Blanc Mont, France France Chateau-Thierry, France St. Etienne a Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Vierzy, France Thiaucourt, France Belleau Wood, France Meuse-Argonne, France Belleau Wood, France page 81

Navy Cross (continued) Name Rank Lawler, Robery J. Lt., USNR Locy, Francis E. Lt. Mclendon, Preston A. Lt. Michael, William H. Lt. Cmdr.

Moring, Travis S. Lt. Mueller, Robert Lt. Pratt, Lester L. Cmdr.

Pratt, Malcolm L. Lt. Shea, Richard O. Lt. White, George L Lt.

Corps Activity MC 6th MG Bn MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 6th MG Bn MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines

Location St. Mihiel, France Belleau Wood, France Blanc Mont, France Belleau Wood, France Champagne Sector, France Meuse-Argonne, France Belleau Wood, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France Belleau Wood, France Vierzy, France

Navy Cross Nurses Name Rank Higbee, Lenah S Superintendent Murphy, Lillian No rank Place, Edna E. No rank Hiddell, Mary Louise No rank

Corps Activity Location NC BUMED Washington, DC NC Base Hospital Brest, France NC Base Hospital Brest, France NC Base Hospital Brest, France

Silver Star Name Rank Anderson, Claude S. PhM1c Bailey, George W. PhM3c Balch, John H. PhM1c Ball, Ernest B. PhM2c Badger, Harold A. Lt.JG Barker, Leonard M. PhM3c Barr, John D. PhM3c Barrett, Alfred A. PhM3c Bateman, Charles W. PhM3c Baume, John PhM1c Bear, Absalom F. HA1c Beasley, Lancelot R. PhM3c Bennett, Morton L. HA1c Bird, Francis M. PhM1c Bone, Merlin T. PhM3c Boone, Joel T. Lt.. Cmdr.

Bostwick, Paul R. HA1c Bowman, Alvin L. PhM3c Bracken, William J. PhM2c Brogden, Ronald R. PhM3c Brown, Raymor R. PhM3c Brownfield, Thomas PhM3c Brumbeloe, Algernon PhM3c Brush, William T. HA1c page 82

Corps Activity HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 2nd Div. HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines

Location Lucy-le-Bocage, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Meuse-Argonne, France Champagne, France Thiaucourt, France Meuse-Argonne, France Champagne, France Vierzy, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Champagne, France Thiaucourt, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Thiaucourt, France Chateau-Thierry, France Meuse-Argonne, France Somme-Py, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Chateau-Thierry, France Champagne, France

Silver Star (continued) Name Rank Butler, Duncan C. PhM2c Campbell, Clifton C. PhM2c Clarity, Ray M. HA1c Clark, Edward L. HA2c Clark, Thayer H. PhM1c Cochrane, Robert S. CPhM Coffee, Joseph C. PhM2c Converse, Herschel I. HA1c Cook, Charles S. CPhM Crosby, Paul T. Lt.JG Cummens, Kenneth PhM3c Dent, Maclyn E. CPhM Dessez, Paul T. Lt. Cmdr.

Dickinson, Dwight Lt. Diem, Frank B. PhM3c Dubrock, Robert E. HA1c Evans, William B. PhM3c Fenno, Lloyd H. PhM3c Farwell, Wrey G. Lt. Cmdr.

Fifer, Ursher L. PhM1c Fitzsimmons, Frank PhM3c Garris, Henry T. PhM3c Gates, Horatio D. CPhM Gay, Norman F. HA1c Gehrke, Frank H. PhM3c Gelatte, Albert C. CPhM George, Nathan CPhM3c Gerhard, William J. PhM2c Gill, William T. Lt. Gilmer, William P. Lt. Glenn, Eugene I. HA2c Goodwin, Oscar S. PhM1c Graham, William C. PhM3c Grantham, James H. HA1c Grausam, Martin L. PhM3c Greer, William B. PhM2c Grimland, Gordon A. Lt.JG Groh, Edmund P. PhM3c Hardy, John L. HA2c Harrington, Luke H. HA1c Hayden, David E. HA1c Heilman. Harold J. PhM1c Henderson, Ernest L. PhM1c Herrman, Bernard W. HA1c Hildreth, Gilbert H. PhM3c Hite, Earl C. PhM1c

Corps Activity HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn MC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines

Location Thiaucourt, France Chateau-Thierry, France Chateau-Thierry, France Champagne, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Chateau-Thierry, France France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Western Front, France Champagne, France Chateau-Thierry, France Chateau-Thierry, France Blanc Mont, France St. Mihiel, France Champagne, France Belleau Wood, France Champagne, France Belleau Wood, France Vierzy, France Bayonville, France Tigny, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France France Thiaucourt, France Blanc Mont, France Argonne Forest, France Champagne, France Champagne, France Thiaucourt, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France Chateau-Thierry, France St. Mihiel, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Thiaucourt, France Argonne Sector, France Champagne, France page 83

Silver Star (continued) Name Rank Hollis, William W. PhM3c Hook, Frederick R. Lt. Horn, George E. PhM1c Huffman, Lester D. Lt. Hull, Roy E. PhM2c Israell, Roy J. PhM1c Jamison, Roland R. PhM1c Jamme, Joseph H. PhM3c Javins, Rupert M. PhM3c Jennison, Charles S. PhM2c Johnson, William C. PhM2c Jones, George A. HA1c Justice, John E., Jr. HA1c Kaga, Raymond L. PhM1c Killebrew, Edgar L. HA1c Kinkle, Clyde A. HA1c King, Ogden D. Lt. Cmdr.

Kirkland, Archie B. PhM1c Lawrence, Lowell W. PhM3c Lawler, Robert J. Lt., USNR Layton, Lester K. HA1c Leisure, George W. HA1c Lewis, Spencer J. PhM2c Litchfield, John R. PhM3c Locy, Francis E. Lt. Lufkin, Nathanial H. PhM3c Lyle, Alexander G. Lt.JG Mack, Cornelius H. Lt. Cmdr.

Mangold, Merton H. PhM1c Manning, James E. PhM3c Marks, John H. PhM2c Martin, Hal E. HA1c Mattingly,Claude PhM1c Maxwell, David M. PhM2c McDaniels, Lee J. PhM2c McDermott, Walter S. PhM3c McGee, Henry E. HA1c McKenney, Leroy N. PhM2c McLendon, Preston Lt. Meggers, Edward C. Lt. Messanelle, Ray A. PhM2c Michael, William H. Lt. Cmdr.

Moll, Joseph J. PhM2c Monahan, Ocia K. CPhM Moring, Travis S. Lt. Morton, Roger Q. PhM3c page 84

Corps Activity HC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn MC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 6th MG Bn HC 6th MG Bn HC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines DC 5th Marines DC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn MC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines

Location Thiaucourt, France Bouresches, France Chateau-Thierry, France Meuse-Argonne, France Chateau-Thierry, France Champagne, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Chateau-Thierry, France Chateau-Thierry, France Belleau Wood, France St. Mihiel, France Chateau-Thierry, France Belleau Wood, France Thiaucourt, France Champagne, France Champagne, France Belleau Wood, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France St. Mihiel, France Vierzy, France Chateau-Thierry, France France Belleau Wood, France Champagne, France Meuse-Argonne, France Verdun, France Soissons, France Meuse-Argonne, France Blanc Mont, France Belleau Wood, France Blanc Mont, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France Chateau-Thierry, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France Meuse-Argonne, France Chateau-Thierry, France Champagne, France Blanc Mont, France Meuse-Argonne, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Belleau Wood, France Champagne, France Vierzy, France Champagne, France Chateau-Thierry, France

Silver Star (continued) Name Rank Nolte, William V. HA1c Noonan, William W. PhM1c Norton, Donald C. PhM3c Olsen, Milton C. PhM3c Osborne, Weedon C. Lt.JG Patterson, Charles H. PhM3c Peterson, George I. PhM3c Peterson, Otis A. PhM2c Petty, Orlando H. Lt., USNR Phelan, Francis E. HA1c Pilkerton, Alvin W. HA1c Pratt, Lester L. Lt. Cmdr.

Pratt, Malcolm L. Lt. Reed, Eugene B. PhM2c Reister, Junius E. PhM1c Roberts, Harold C. PhM3c Rogers, Benjamin F. PhM2c Russell, Thomas PhM1c Sanderson, Otis B. PhM2c Schuler, Louis B. HA1c Shea, Richard O. Lt. Simmer, Tony PhM1c Sims, Harry V. Lt. Smith, James E. CPhM Smith, Thomas R. PhM1c Spence, Martin W. PhM2c Stamps, Bernice B. CPhM Stanton, Leon R. PhM3c Staton, Ennis C. HA1c Stone, Raymond O. CPhM Stratford, Parke C. PhM2c Strott, George G. CPhM Taylor, Guss L. HA1c Taylor, Leslie R. PhM2c Templeton, Percy V. CPhM Tenley, Eugene H. HA1c Thatcher, Herbert H. Lt. Thomas, Barner M. PhM1c Thomas, Claude PhM1c Thompson, Buford G. PhM2c Thompson, Ira C. PhM2c Tibbetts, Frank O. PhM2c Tousic, Frank CPhM Turner, Marion L. PhM2c Weaver, Benjamin W. PhM3c Weddington, James L. HA1c

Corps Activity HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn DC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines

Location Chateau-Thierry, France Chateau-Thierry, France Thiaucourt, France France Chateau-Thierry, France Chateau-Thierry, France Vaux Castille, France Champagne, France Belleau Wood, France Chateau-Thierry, France Vierzy, France Belleau Wood, France Belleau Wood, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Soissons, France France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Meuse-Argonne, France Champagne, France Chateau-Thierry, France Belleau Wood, France France Meuse-Argonne, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Somme-Py, France Belleau Wood, France Jaulney, France Champagne, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Champagne, France Chateau-Thierry, France Somme-Py, France Chateau-Thierry, France Bayonville, France Somme-Py, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Soissons, France Champagne, France Champagne, France Champagne, France Champagne, France Lucy-le-Bocage, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France Champagne, France Vaux Castille, France France page 85

Silver Star (continued) Name Welty, Frank G. Whalen, LeVeque L. Whistler, Clifford R. Whitacre, Charles H. White, George L. Wiley, Harry K. Williams, John Q. Winney, Arthur L. Witt, George D. Wyse, Fred E. Yates, Frank R.

Rank PhM2c PhM2c PhM2c CPhM Lt. PhM2c PhM3c PhM2c PhM3c PhM3c PhM2c

Corps Activity HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 6th Marines MC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines HC 6th MG Bn

Location Chateau-Thierry, France Vierzy, France France Chateau-Thierry, France Soissons, France Vierzy, France France Champagne, France Blanc Mont, France Blanc Mont, France St. Etienne-a-Arnes, France

Other Awards Dental Corps Hospital Corps Medical Corps Legion d’Honneur *** *** 1 Croix de Guerre 3 202 16 Fourragere Notes on World War I Awards The Medal of Honor is awarded to any person who, while in the service of the United States, shall, in action involving combat distinguishes themselves by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty and without detriment to the mission. Awarded for combat or noncombat action. In World War I, 119 service personnel of the Army, Navy and Marine Corps received the Medal of Honor.

The Distinguished Service Cross (Army) is awarded to a person who, while serving in any capacity with the Army, distinguishes himself/herself by extraordinary heroism not justifying the Medal of Honor. This extraordinary heroism must take place while the individual is engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States; or while engaged in military operations involving conflict with an opposing foreign force; or while he is serving with friendly foreign forces that are engaged in an armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United States is not a belligerent party. The act or acts of heroism must be so notable and involve risk of life so extraordinary as to set the individual apart from his comrades. In World War I, 6,309 Distinguished Service Crosses were awarded to service personnel.

The Navy Cross is awarded to any person serving in any capacity in the U.S. Navy who distinguishes himself/herself by extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy. In World War I, 1,838 Navy Crosses were awarded to service personnel.

Silver (Citation) Star (Army) was authorized by an act of Congress of July 9, 1918.

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Appendix E: Casualty Statistics for Medical Personnel in France Summary: Wounded in action and gassed Dental Corps 2 Hospital Corps 103 Medical Corps (MC) 14 Hospital Corps Casualties (per activity) 5th Marines 70 6th Marines 76 6th MG Bttn.

17 Medical Personnel Killed in Action (1917-1918) Summary: Dental Corps (DC) 1 Hospital Corps (HC) 12 Name Rank Brown, Raymor R. HA1c Callback, William C. PhM3c Graham, William C. PhM3c Grantham, James H. HA1c Grubb, Richard V. PhM3c Jamison, Roland R. PhM1c Johnson, Joseph H. HA1c Litchfield, John R. PhM3c Maxwell, David M. PhM2c Osborne, Weeden Lt.(jg) Patterson, Charles H. PhM3c Schaffner, Fred C. PhM3c Schuler, Louis B. HA1c Sullivan, James D. PhM3c Tenley, Eugene H. HA1c Timmons, Claude PhM1c Welte, Frank G. PhM2c Witt, George D. PhM3c

Corps Activity HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines DC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 5th Marines HC 6th MG Bn

Location St. Etienne-a-Arnes Somme-Py Blanc Mont Saint-Georges Tigny Blanc Mont Blanc Mont Xammes Belleau Wood Belleau Wood Meuse River Fontaine Sainte-Robert Belleau Wood St. Etienne-a-Arnes St. Etienne-a-Arnes Landreville Belleau Wood St. Etienne-a-Arnes

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Appendix F: From the Surgeon General of the U.S. Navy: Marine Units in France, 1917-19181

I

t was no easy task for our naval medical men collected from ships, shore stations, hospitals, and civil life to acquire a knowledge of Army routine and adapt themselves to the requirements of Army field service but the medical officers assigned to Marine contingents sent abroad displayed an energy and versatility which soon qualified them for their duties.

The Marines were at first assigned to provost marshal and other duty along the coats and in various inland towns of France. They built roads and reservoris, camps, and docks. The naval medical officers accompanying them were appointed health inspectors, assigned to the work of preventing venereal disease, served as senior surgeons at large Army camps and cheerfully rendered all possible aid to civilian communities whose physicians were absent, almost to a man, with no colors.

Early in 1918, the 4th Marine Brigade, the only one then present in France, was incorporated with the 2nd Division and assembled in the Department of the Vosges for special training. All medical officers serving with Marines were thus brought under one Marine Commander but without any unification or centralization of medical command since the Army organization does not provide for a brigade surgeon. Each regimental surgeon acted independently and there were also medical officers in the Marine Machine Gun Battalion which acted as an independent unit. All brigade units were billetted in military barracks, houses, barns, storage sheds, etc., and their medical officers not only gave professional service to the troops, but acted as local sanitary officials and treated the native population.

During the training period a medical officer from each of the Marine regiments was detailed for instruction at an Army sanitary school [in Langres]. One naval medical officer had attended a part of the session of the 1st Corps school in autumn of 1917.2 Three members of the naval Dental Corps attended the special course for dentists at the sanitary school. Our medical officers also received instruction at the British Army Sanitary School near Arras and attended clinics in the French base hospitals of Paris and vicinity.

It was in the trench area near Verdun, occupied by the 2nd Division in March, that our medical officers first participated in military operations ashore in France. The superb medical and surgical equipment provided by the Medical Department of the Navy was far in excess of what could be transported to the battle front and much of it had to be stored in the training area, where it was later appropriated by the Army, as the 2nd Division never returned to its original area owing to the nature of the military operations. When their medical stores were available and after experience had taught what was needed the Army made adequate provisions for the Marine units.

The early periods of service under the Army were not without disappointments and anxiety for the medical officers serving with the Marines. The Navy men were without representation on division staff and were accustomed to more liberal provision of stores. Divisional representatives rarely communicated with Marine medical units, and officials in the rear exacted certain procedures without a full knowledge of conditions at the front. Nor did it seem to our surgeons that their patients always received a maximum of consideration in the divisional field hospitals. Just prior to the Champagne offensive, at the end of September, however, a naval medical officer was assigned to the divisional staff as assistant division surgeon, and this measure proved of great value in unifying and coordinating the medical services of Army and Marine Corps units.

Naval medical officers and Hospital Corpsmen were in action from the time when the 2nd Division was thrown across the road from Paris to Chateau-Thierry, June 1, until November 11, participating at Belleau Wood, Soissons, in the Argonne, at the crossing of the Meuse.

It was conclusively demonstrated by the campaign that regimental and battalion surgeons must be men in the prime of life. The Bureau [of Medicine and Surgery] made wise selection in its assignments, and though some 1. Annual Report from the Surgeon General of the U.S. Navy, Washington, D.C: Government Printing Office, 1919. pp 19-21) 2. Lt. Cmdr. Joel T. Boone, Medical Corps, USN

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Members of the 3rd Battalion 6th Marine Regiment near Colombey-les-Belles, France, August 1918 BUMED Archives

of our men in France had little or no previous service they quickly developed to meet the resposnibilities resting upon them. A regimental surgeon with Marines had under him at least 6 other medical officers, 3 dental officers, a minimum of 50 Hospital Corpsmen, and was responsible for the professional care of 3,700 men, as well as for all the details of surgical and medical supplies, battle casualty lists, and the evacuation of the wounded to the rear. When in rest billets—the 2nd Division was never out of line more than two week—there were many added burdens of adminstration and training.

One of our medical officers, originally sent to France as a batalion surgeon with [the] Marines, was eventually assigned to command an Army division field hospital, later became director of four Army division field hospitals, and prior to his return to the United States served as sanitary inspector for an Army division.

A naval dental surgeon, originally a baatlaion dentist, became division dental surgeon. Several of our naval medical officers were assigned to Army ambulance companies and Army division field hospitals. The medical personnel of the 5th Brigade of Marines did not have the opportunity to serve on the battle front, but their work was no less valuable to themselves.

In the cases where our medical officers were detached from their original Marine units for work with the Army proper they did good work, proving once again the Navy man’s usefulness whether afloat or ashore. • Major Navy and Marine Corps Operations: Aisne (Belleau Wood)—May 29 to June 5, 1918 Aisne-Marne (Vierzy)—July 18-20, 1918 St. Mihiel (Thiacourt)—September 12-16, 1918 Meuse-Argonne (Champagne Region)—October 1-10, 1918 (Landres Ste. Georges-Mouzon)—November 1 to 11, 1918 Major Navy and Marine Corps Defensive Sectors: Toulon-Troyon Sector (Verdun)—March 15 to May 14, 1918 Chateau-Thierry Sector—June 6 to July 9, 1918 Marbache Sector (Pont au Mousson)—August 1 to 18, 1918 page 89

Appendix G: Organizational Standing, October 1917 to November 1918 American Expeditionary Force (AEF)

First Army

Second Army

I Corps

1st Div.

IV Corps

3d Div.

2d Div.

4th Mar. Brigade

3d Brigade

5th Regiment

6th Regiment

6th MG Regiment

page 90

Third Army

V Corps

4th Div.

Service of Supply

French Col. Corps

26th Div.

28th Div.

Fr. 167th

THE SWORD IS DRAWN - THE NAVY UPHOLDS IT! (99-064-W)

By Kenyon Cox, Ca. 1917 Courtesy of Navy Art Gallery