Meet Elsie Janis, Sweetheart of the AEF–Video

This is a 1926 recreation with sound of Elsie's visits to the front during the war.

Also, for more information on Elsie with photos of her with the troops at the front, see our previous articles on her:

Part I

Part II

CLICK HERE TO PLAY


Thanks to our friend and supporter Robin Clayton at WLRC Radio in Walnut, Mississippi, for discovering this gem.

Remembering a Veteran: 2nd Lieutenant Eric Duckworth, Lancashire Fusiliers

Lt. Eric Duckworth

By James Patton

Eric was born on 19 September 1895 in Dunsterville House, Rochdale (now a part of metropolitan Manchester). He was the eldest son of James and Mary Duckworth and thus a scion of one of Rochdale’s wealthiest families. Their fortune was founded by Eric’s grandfather, Sir James Duckworth (1840–1915), who was a councilman, four-time mayor of Rochdale and a Member of Parliament 1897–1900 and 1906–10.

Duckworth’s was a major grocery wholesaler and retailer in the industrial Midlands. At their peak, they had 180 stores, which their clientele nicknamed “Jimmy Duck’s." The Duckworth family ownership continued until 1958, but it’s all gone today. 

One of the Family Grocery Stores

Eric was educated at Rugby, where he was a member of the Officer Training Corps. He returned home in 1913 and enrolled at Manchester University, intending to study politics and economics. On the day following the declaration of war, he volunteered for his local Territorial Force unit, the 6th  (Rochdale) Battalion, Lancs Fusiliers (LF).

Since 1908, all Territorial Force battalions had been designated as either First Line or Second Line. The First was made up of men who were available for overseas service, while the Second’s men could only serve at home, either by individual choice or due to restrictive circumstances. After war was declared, all new volunteers went to the First Line (1st /6th ), including Eric. Later, due to high casualties, the Seconds were deployed overseas as well.

Eric was the type of chap that the LF were looking for. The 6th LF was commanded by a former Yeomanry officer, cricket player, and heir to a textile empire named George Kemp (1866–1945), 1st Baron Rochdale, who was briefly a brigadier general in 1915. The 6th LF had strong local roots. Many men were from Rochdale’s leading families. On 6 August, Eric was duly gazetted a 2nd  lieutenant and assigned to “B” Company; at only 18 he was the youngest officer in the battalion.

Within days, the 1st /6th was made a part of the 42nd  (East Lancs) Division, which would become the first Territorial Force unit to go overseas, arriving in Egypt in early September 1914. At this time, Territorial units were sent out to replace Regulars in Imperial Service, so the Regulars could be sent to France. This restriction didn’t last too long. On 6 May 1915 the 1st /6th was landed at Cape Helles on the Gallipoli peninsula and rushed into action, where they mounted a costly bayonet charge in the 2nd Battle of Krithia. Eric wrote of this to his father:

I was fortunate to come out unhurt but my platoon suffered. I cannot go into detail as regards numbers of casualties but 12 per cent are killed. We have had our fill of war and I shall not mind when it is over.

 

Present Day Krithia (Alçıtepe in Turkish)

 On  5 August he wrote to his mother:

Little enough did I think 12 months ago today on the anniversary of mobilisation I should be writing to you from a hole in the Gallipoli Peninsula, not having seen you for 10 1/2 months, and to the tune of 75mm guns. However, you never know your luck, and I may see you in time to celebrate my 20th birthday at home, but as things look at present, there’s not much chance of that.

Indeed, Eric’s luck did run out on 7 August, when the 1st /6th  LF were engaged at the Battle of Krithia Vineyard. His men recalled that, on seeing the defenses opposing them, Eric’s sardonic message to them was “Well, lads, we are not going to a church parade today!”

Nevertheless, he led his platoon in another bayonet charge that captured the first line of trenches, but he was killed in the unsuccessful attempt to breach the 2nd line. He was 43 days short of his twentieth birthday.

The officers mess of the 6th LF was a tight-knit and socially linked group made up of "the great and good"of Bury, Rochdale, and Middleton, and this old-boy network facilitated Eric’s father’s eventual pilgrimage to the Dardanelles. Within days of hearing of Eric’s death, his father, James, had managed to open a direct line of communication with the officers mess in the field, yet. Within weeks, with the personal intervention of the battalion chaplain, he had received a written firsthand account from one of his son’s wounded soldiers, who had been evacuated to a hospital in Malta.

Private Norman Howarth, told them:

At 9.45am (on the 7th August) Lieutenant Duckworth led our platoon towards the vineyard, Many of the men were green reinforcements and halted at the first trench. About 20 men led by Duckworth kept charging toward the second trench. Only three men made it to the Turkish parapet: Private Porter, myself and Lieutenant Duckworth. Private Porter was about 20 yards to my left and he and I were busy shooting Turks. Private Porter crawled nearer to me and told me that Lieutenant Duckworth had been shot.

When the smoke had lifted, Howarth said that he could see Duckworth 30 or 40 yards to his left, “sat [sic] on the parapet with his head on his chest.” Eric’s parents asked to have Howarth draw a map of the spot where Eric had last been seen, slumped in the Turkish wire. When Eric’s father and a brother made their 1922 pilgrimage, it was this map that guided their search. They took with them an oak tree sapling from Rochdale to plant as a memorial to Eric and the other local men who didn’t return. This would be a semi-official act, since Eric’s father was also the mayor of Rochdale.

They arrived on the peninsula sometime in the latter part of March. Their visit was brief but effective, since they had attentive assistance from the Imperial War Graves Commission (IWGC). We don’t know when the two departed for home, but they were back in Rochdale by 15 April, when they made public the details of their journey in the Rochdale Observer.

James Duckworth Carrying the Oak Sapling

They had meant to plant the oak sapling in the spot where Howarth had indicated that Eric had fallen, but they found that this site was being actively farmed. Eric’s father wrote: “We travelled by the coast and then turned inland… and Krithia village  appeared on the right, a deserted pile of ruins. A few hundred yards further we turned right and stopped at the graveyard known as Redoubt Cemetery” where they discovered the graves of several of Eric’s men—and a couple of graves marked as "An officer of the Lancashire Fusiliers: Known unto God’. Could one of these be Eric’s? Eric’s father again:

We had no grave of our own to visit, having numbered with those whose boys fell in advanced positions, face to the foe and under such conditions that recovery was impossible. We found graves of a dozen or more of the men in our boy’s platoon – his (Eric’s) name would stand alongside those with whom he fought and for whom he so sincerely cared.

Thus they decided to plant the oak there, in the Redoubt Cemetery, with a plaque dedicating it to Eric’s memory. They then hired the IWGC’s Turkish gardeners to water and tend to the tree. Eric’s father died in 1937, but over the ensuing years Eric’s younger brothers, all of whom had been too young to serve in the war, continued to pay for the care of the tree and periodically visited.

It is a testimony to the skills of the gardeners that the tree has continued to survive despite living in an alien climate. Over the ensuing years, the tree would gain symbolic importance to the surviving veterans of the 6th LF, and at reunions they looked forward to updates from the Duckworths about how it was faring.

The Gallipoli Oak, Redoubt Cemetery

At one such reunion in 1935, the veterans were shown pictures of the tree, and one poignantly wrote: “Our comrades lie sleeping, and we were shown a fast-growing tree in memory of Eric Duckworth. Its leaves were a rich green and it looks so strong, as young Duckworth was. Ah yes, we must forget those days, but we cannot forget men like Duckworth and many more. We shall go on remembering them until the sun goes down for us.”

The oak tree remains to this day in the Redoubt Cemetery near Alçıtepe, now 103 years old, a unique memorial known as “The Gallipoli Oak.”

Dedication Plaque

Eric Duckworth is also commemorated on:

• The Commonwealth War Graves Commission Helles Memorial.
• The University of Manchester War Memorial, Main Quadrangle.
• The Manchester Municipal College of Technology Memorial in the Sackville Building, University of Manchester.

Sources: University of Manchester and the Western Front Association

The Imperial Russian Army After the February Revolution

Poster for 1917 "Freedom Loan" 
for Continuing Military Operations

Lewis Siegelbaum, Michigan State University

At the time of the February Revolution, the Imperial Russian Army contained some seven-and a-half million soldiers who were overwhelmingly drawn from the peasantry. The most immediate and tangible effect of the revolution on the army was Order No. 1 issued by the Executive Committee of the Petrograd Soviet of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies on 1 March 1917 and approved under duress by the Provisional Government. Among other things, the order called for the election of soldiers’ committees under whose disposal all arms were to be placed. Although they were to maintain “the strictest military discipline,” soldiers were to enjoy the rights of all citizens outside the service and the ranks. They also were no longer to be addressed by their officers in the familiar (and condescending) form of “you” (ty). The addressing of officers with titles such as “Your Excellency” was abolished and replaced by “Mister General,” “Mister Colonel,” etc.

In his report of 16 April, General Alekseev, the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, complained that “the army is systematically falling apart,” a situation that he attributed to the spread of “defeatist literature and propaganda." What is no less striking about the revolution in the army is the extent to which rank-and-file soldiers justified their actions in the patriotic terms of defending a “free Russia.”

_____________________________

General Alekseev to Minister of War Guchkov, 16 April 1917

The situation in the army grows worse every day: information coming in from all sides indicates that the army is systematically falling apart.

(1) Desertions continue unabated: in the armies of the Northern and Western fronts between April 1 and 7, 7,688 soldiers are reported as deserters … a number manifestly and considerably underestimated …

(2) Discipline declines with each passing day; those guilty of violating military duty are completely indifferent to possible criminal punishments, convinced of the extreme unlikelihood of enforcement.

(3) The authority of officers and commanders has collapsed and cannot be restored by present methods. Owing to undeserved humiliations and assaults, the de facto removal of their authority over subordinates, and the surrender of such control to soldiers’ committees … the morale of the officer corps has sunk to a new low.

(4) A pacifist mood has developed in the ranks. Among the soldier mass, not only is the idea of offensive operations rejected, but even preparations for such, on which basis major violations of discipline have occurred …

(5) Defeatist literature and propaganda has built itself a firm nest in the army. This propaganda comes from two sides -from the enemy and from the rear … and obviously stems from the same source.

 _____________________________

The first few weeks of the revolution witnessed the desertion of between 100,000 and 150,000 soldiers, most of whom were peasants anxious to return to their villages to participate in what they expected would be a division of land. There was also a substantial tide of arrests of officers, particularly senior commanders, and their replacement by more popular individuals. Instances of violence, including executions of officers, were recorded in the Baltic Fleet and in the Petrograd garrison but were relatively rare at the front. 

Kerenskii Visiting the Front

Whatever the case, Aleksandr Kerenskii, who had replaced Aleksandr Guchkov as Minister of the Army and Navy in May, became convinced that Russia either had to accept the virtual demobilization of the army and capitulate to Germany or assume the initiative in military operations. Touring the fronts, he sought to whip up enthusiasm for an offensive that he and the leading core of officers hoped would ignite patriotic fervor and bring victory to revolutionary Russia. The offensive, under General A. A. Brusilov, began on 18 June all along the Southwestern Front. After some initial successes, the Russian Army’s advances were repulsed, and the desperate attempt to stem the tide of the army’s disintegration actually served to accelerate it.

Source: Seventeen Moments in Soviet History

Deserters of the First World War

Australian Forces Field Court Martial

By Andrea Hetherington

Pen and Sword Books Ltd., 2021

Matthew Barrrett, Reviewer

Originally Presented at Canadian Military History, Vol. 33, #2

In Deserters of the First World War: The Home Front, Hetherington delves into this intriguing and neglected topic by investigating the experiences and motivations of British and Dominion soldiers who for one reason or another, at one time or another, rejected military duty. By turning our attention away from offenses on the battlefield to the situation in the United Kingdom, Hetherington explores the social lives of ordinary soldiers-turned deserters as they navigated precarious fugitive status on the home front.

From the perspective of working-class civilians in uniform, she argues, “Desertion was a small strike against the monotony of the military machine, a brief holiday from routine. It was a tactic for a man to negotiate or manoeuvre his way through a war which was mostly beyond his immediate control and it was a tactic utilized by many thousands of men” (p. 172). Frustrated with poor living conditions, inadequate compensation or unfair discipline, soldiers, especially those with trade union backgrounds, often interpreted absenteeism as another form of worker protest rather than a wholesale mutiny against the military system.

Army authorities nevertheless responded with all the legal and disciplinary tools to catch and punish the offenders, setting a deterrent for any who would overstay leave or abscond from a reserve depot. Between 1914 and 1920, over 82,000 courts martial in the British Army and Dominion forces were held for charges of desertion and absence without leave in the United Kingdom (p. 1).

Although the distinction between the two crimes was not always clear cut in practice, desertion required evidence that the soldier did not intend to return. The courts sentenced most convicted of either offence to periods of detention in barracks or imposed prison terms on habitual offenders. To prevent the prospect of misconduct and confinement from becoming perverse incentives to escape military service, authorities used suspended and commuted sentences to send convicted soldiers to duty and danger at the front.

Hetherington’s study proceeds roughly chronologically from the earliest examples of desertion shortly after the declaration of war in August 1914 through to the enforcement of conscription under the Military Service Act of 1916 to demobilisation and the postwar treatment of wartime deserters. Thematically, the chapters also explore interesting aspects of deserters’ lives on the home front, such as domestic issues, employment challenges, criminality, ethnicity and the depictions of desertion in the popular press. 

Desertion not infrequently resulted from marital rather than strictly martial problems, and a wayward serviceman could burden families with economic and emotional uncertainty. Some discarded their uniforms for more lucrative munitions work and others managed to evade military justice for years in the countryside working for farmers. Some runaway soldiers impersonated serving officers and veterans to exploit false military glory for profit while more nefarious individuals turned to vice and violence. Attitudes toward deserters could reflect ethnic prejudices with the problem of shirking disproportionately and unfairly associated with Jewish and Irish communities. In her analysis, Hetherington points out that the negative perception of deserters was balanced to some degree with public sympathy for volunteers-turned absentees who had at least served for a time at the front. Greater press hostility toward the problem of shirking was reserved for the deserter’s civilian counterpart—the conscientious objector (p. 51).

Deserters of the First World War relies on a range of War Office archival files but with much of the British Army court martial record long since destroyed, Hetherington turns to contemporary newspapers and other periodicals, such as the Illustrated Police News and John Bull, for accounts of deserter prosecutions. Mining these sources reveals public reactions to the problem of desertion and offers a valuable if partial window into deserters’ motivations and experiences. As the author notes, the accusations of prosecutors, judgements of court members and testimony of the accused raised questions about credibility and truth behind each story recounted in newspaper columns. Furthermore, the popular press would tend to have featured stories about the more unusual and extraordinary examples of desertion. Despite the loss of most British Army court files, the chapter on the “Wild Colonial Boys,” about desertion among Dominion forces, makes good use of the far more complete and accessible Canadian Expeditionary Force court martial records held at Library and Archives Canada.

Order HERE

Perceptions of wartime desertion tend to evoke scenes of panicked or worn-out soldiers fleeing the trenches before battle, perhaps traumatised by shell shock after unbearable frontline service. The Shot at Dawn Memorial, which commemorates the 306 British and Dominion soldiers executed for cowardice and desertion, captures this popular image of the deserter—a young boy-soldier blindfolded and tied to a post awaiting the fatal bullet. While these deaths galvanised a public and political campaign twenty years ago to secure posthumous pardons, a singular focus on execution cases can distort a deeper understanding of desertion in less extreme circumstances as well as its broader legal, social and cultural implications. 

Associating desertion primarily with a genuine medical problem like combat stress or shell shock further removes the agency of some absentee soldiers who may have seen their action as a deliberate choice or protest rather than an inevitable consequence of psychological breakdown. As Hetherington persuasively demonstrates, those accused of desertion responded to a variety of internal and external factors, and telling their fascinating stories provides an essential new perspective on the wartime experience and especially about the home front environment.

Matthew Barrrett

Why Was the Big Allied Push of 1916 Made at the Somme?

Relief, Delville Wood South African Memorial, Somme

Mark M. Hull

After the war, memories of the event—some more accurate than others—propelled this complicated series of unit actions into the position it has held since: a byword for the hemorrhage of lives for no gain and for military leaders’ uncaring sacrifice of an entire generation of young men.

The Reason Why 

The Somme River Valley theater of operations stretched some 15 miles, with the British sector neatly divided by the old Roman road that ran from Albert (British side of the line) to Bapaume (under German ownership). German forces occupied the key terrain feature—a ridge running west to east from Thiepval to Morval. The terrain was lightly wooded with a scattering of small villages and towns, although by 1916 the trees were gone and the towns were little more than standing ruins. War came early to these parts and stayed. 

The Somme did not suddenly become a battlefield in 1916. On the contrary, it had been the established demarcation between German and Allied forces since August 1914, when the Kaiser’s army lost its mobility and with it, any chance of realizing the quick victory that Germany required. The resulting stalemate did not mean an end to aspirations of offensive success; as different schemes were tried throughout 1915, the Germans asked themselves where the Allies were vulnerable rather than if the war was still winnable. Chief of the German General Staff Erich von Falkenhayn determined that the French fortress town of Verdun was the new “where.” He reasoned—somewhat sensibly—that the French would sacrifice almost anything to hold it, and that France would be “bled white” in the attritional struggle that ensued. By the early months of 1916, although it cost the Germans almost as much as the French, Falkenhayn still believed he was close to realizing the strategic goal of exhausting enemy manpower and with it, the enemy’s political will to continue the fight. If the French were to survive, they required immediate assistance from their British allies. 

The Somme Was the First Major Action for
the Pals Battalions

With the public failure of peripheral operations at Gallipoli, the British returned to the continent as the main theater of operations, and prior to the Verdun crisis, envisioned the main attack by Commonwealth forces at Ypres in 1916 with the aim of reaching the Belgian coast. For a variety of reasons, the plan collapsed due to the inability of their Russian allies to put together an offensive on the Eastern Front until summer and the Belgians’ refusal to support operations in Flanders. By February, both British and French staffs had scrapped their initial plans in favor of a joint Somme operation in July along a broad front—and it was just then Falkenhayn launched the Verdun operation that forced the Allies to rethink yet again the questions of where, when, and to what extent. 

Historians have long debated the true goals of the 1916 Somme offensive. It was at least partially designed to divert German reserves and thereby take pressure off the French to the southeast. But was the aim more ambitious than that? The commander in chief of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF), General Sir Douglas Haig, seemed of two minds. When writing about the upcoming operation in April 1916, he wrote that “I think we can do better than this by aiming at getting a large combined force of French and British across the Somme and fighting the enemy in the open!” 

This would appear to indicate unambiguously that the goal (at least at that time) was just that – a war-ending breakthrough that would collapse German resistance and pierce the equilibrium on the Western Front. His subordinate field army commanders were less optimistic, and doubted the chances for the rosy outcome Haig put forth. Fourth Army commander Lieutenant General Henry Rawlinson believed that the attack was likely to be “sustained over a considerable period of time”—meaning an attritional wearing out of the enemy rather than a decisive breakthrough. In response to this, Haig insisted, “The enemy must be beaten!” This schism of expectations between commanding general and key subordinates did not bode well for what was to follow. Haig was further prompted by the operational directive from the French Marshal Joffre, “We can envision knocking out the German army on the Western Front, or at least an important part of their forces.” As the time for the July offensive neared, Haig was watchful for any signs that Fourth Army’s planning embraced objectives that he thought too timid.  In any event, as historian W. J. Philpott observed, “For Britain the Somme was a battle fought for intangible strategic gains, to sustain an ally as much as defeat the enemy.”

One thing was clear—after the German onslaught at Verdun, the French contribution to any offensive in the Somme would be significantly reduced, as would the horizontal frontage of the battlespace. The British would not be making the push alone, but for most British units engaged, it would feel as though they were. With the Allied decision to attack and the general operational guidelines established, the British next had to consider how to best assemble sufficient manpower and material resources.

French Forces at the Somme

Postscript

Of course, the Allies won the Great War, more than two years after the Somme offensive. Did the Somme play a vital role in that success? Was this an important aspect of the attritional struggle that collapsed the German army in October and November 1918? Did the more than 19,000 men who died on 1 July alone contribute to that first V-E day? How should we interpret the greater meaning of what happened on the Western Front in 1916? Unfortunately, none of these questions have a satisfying answer, and perhaps that is why our cultural memory of this long-ago event is so ambiguous. 

Source: Excerpted from "The Somme, 1916" by Mark M. Hull, in Forgotten Decisive Victories, U.S. Army Command and General Staff College Press, 2017

My AEF Battlefield Guide Is Now Available for Free Download

Cover: Marine Memorial, Belleau Wood Glade

Long-term subscribers to Roads to the Great War might recall that for some time I marketed this guidebook on the site. It is a distillation of all my research and on-site explorations of the war's American battlefields, organized in a way that I believe is easy to follow. Here are some details about the work and how to download it now for no charge. I hope you will have an opportunity yourself to visit these battlefields someday.

The Battlefields Covered:

• Cantigny
• Chateau-Thierry, Belleau Wood, and Vaux
• Second Battle of the Marne
• Flanders: Mt. Kemmel
• Frapelle
• St. Mihiel Salient
• Meuse-Argonne
• The Hindenburg Line & Beyond
• Blanc Mont Ridge
• Flanders-Lys
• Other Notable Smaller Operations

Specifications:

• 28-page, full color, large 8½ x 11 inch printable PDF Document, readable on desk tops, laptops or P.E.D. devices.
• Ten major battles and five notable smaller operations covered.
• Each main section includes: quick facts, then and now photos, maps, details about the battle, and key sites to visit with GPS coordinates.
• Only delivered electronically.

Click HERE to Download

Photo Album: The British Empire Fighting on Distant Shores

1920 Recruiting Poster
The Empire Had Seemingly Survived the War

Column in Transcaucasus

Base Hospital in Murmansk, Russia

Aircraft Carrier HMS Ben-my-Chee in the Dardanelles
(Sunk 1917)

British and Sikh Troops at Tsing Tao, 1914

Wireless Operators, Tanganyika

Field Ambulance Station, Asiago Plateau, Italy

South African Machine Gunners, SW Africa

North Beach Gallipoli

Rare Photo of T.E. Lawrence

Turkish Officials Surrender Jerusalem

Anti-Aircraft Battery, Mesopotamia

Indian Army Soldiers, Salonika

Armored Car, Iraq, 1920

Soissons: Where the Yanks Learned About the Lethality of German Machine Guns

German Machine Gunners

The Battle of Soissons was part of a series of operations in July and August 1918, collectively known as the Second Battle of the Marne. After French intelligence had warned him of the German attack east of Château-Thierry that would begin on 15 July, Generalissimo Foch set the date for his counterattack as the 18th. Consequently, as the Germans were attacking on the eastern flank of the salient, the Allies would be attacking against their exposed western flank. The two most experienced divisions of the AEF, the 1st and 2nd, played the key roles in the attack. Marines of the 2nd Division were in the opening advance.

[On the 18th] we moved forward at a slow pace, keeping perfect lines. Men were being mowed down like wheat. A whiz bang hit on my right and an automatic team that was there a moment ago disappeared. . . 

 Lt. Samuel Cumming, 5th Marines

Soissons would subsequently become the battlefield where the AEF learned of the skills of experienced machine gunners in hindering attacks over open country. This made advancing difficult on the first day of the attack, and would prove almost insurmountable for the inexperienced Marines and Doughboys on subsequent days at Soissons when the Germans had better organized their defenses.

Of all the American units that fought at Soissons, the 6th Marine Regiment of the 2nd Division may have faced the most determined opposition. With the 6th Marine Machine Gun Battalion and the 2nd Engineer Regiment in reserve, they joined the battle on the second day after the German army had reinforced the sector to avoid a rout. Furthermore, they were ordered to attack over the entire 2nd Division frontage. The division's other three infantry regiments were depleted and exhausted from the first day's advance. The 6th Marines would face relatively fresh infantry using machines for both direct and indirect fire, and artillery guided by observation balloons, which the Americans lacked since the Germans held air superiority over the sector. Marine historian Edwin Simmons estimated the 6th regiment suffered over 1,200 casualties, mostly on the single day of 19 July 1918.

 On the 19th, the second day of the attack, it was not until 6:30 a.m. that the leading battalion of the regiment received orders to lead the attack that day. The Germans were still desperately attempting to stop the Allies' drive. The 6th Marines, under Lt. Col. Harry Lee, advanced on a 2500-yard front. The 1st Battalion, commanded by Major John A. Hughes was on the left flank. The 2nd Battalion, commanded by future USMC Commandant Major Thomas Holcomb, was on Hughes's right, and the 3rd Battalion, commanded by Major Berton W. Sibley, was in reserve. The ground was level and contained no cover except for an occasional wheat field. This attack started in full view of the enemy and with insufficient artillery support.

The ground was absolutely flat, some planted in wheat, with bare fields here and there. Artillery and machine gun fire caused heavy losses. After advancing about a mile the right was stopped in front of Tigny and the left at La Râperie, the head of the Villemontoire Ravine. The center continued on a little farther to the Bois de Tigny. A gap opened between the 1st and 2nd Battalions, which was filled by the 3rd. This line was held the rest of the day. Farther advance was impossible without fresh troops, and there were no more to send in. 

Division Marker at the Farthest Advance of the 6th Marines
(Note flat terrain)

Two Sergeants of the 6th Marines Later Described That Day:

 We moved down into the Vierzy Ravine, and then went forward, past Vierzy. My battalion came up out of the Vierzy Ravine and deployed on the edge of a wheat field. The Germans, who were over on the right on a hill, spotted us, They were about 1,800 yards away, but they started throwing machine gun bullets at us. . . . I could see Holcomb's battalion come out of the orchard way off to our left and deploy and move out. . . . We lay there, and after a while we heard rumbling. It was the tanks. . . . When the tanks passed through, the command came, "Forward." We got up and started going with them. On our battalion front there was a tank every 50 yards. They attracted furious German artillery and machine gun fire. In a matter of minutes all tanks save one in our battalion zone were disabled and on fire. The advancing Marines were a machine gunner's dream. Flesh and blood can take just so much. Under the veritable hail of shells and bullets, platoons simply melted. The Germans had massed their artillery on a hill about three or four miles off in front of us. It was all direct fire. . . . Our attack collapsed. The attack was over.

Gunnery Sergeant Gerald C. Thomas, 1st Battalion

The German machine gun fire did not cease during the day so we dug as deep as possible. It was sure death to stick one's head up. . .It must have been past midnight when a French out fit came up to relieve us. I spoke to a French [officer] and he told me that they had come up to the front on condition that they would only occupy the second line and not the first line. It told him in French, of course, that our line was the second line. As it was pitch dark he believed me and what was left of us vamoosed out of there and went to the rear. 

 Sgt. Victor D. Spark, 2nd Battalion

  

Men of the 6th Marines

Eyewitness: I Watched the High Seas Fleet Surrender

21 November 1918

By  F. Perrot of The Guardian 

About 9.30 precisely came the great moment–the first glimpse of the captive German fleet. The lookout man at the masthead called down the tube to the captain's bridge: 'German fleet in sight on the starboard bow.' We were fifty miles out to sea east of the opening of the Firth of Forth. 'Der Tag,' murmured the chief yeoman of signals, as he leveled his telescope on the incredible thing. First of all we saw a kite balloon towed along by the Cardiff, our light cruiser, in the proud job of marshaling the prisoners. Behind the Cardiff we saw a faint silhouette, dark gray against the gray haze, like something cut out of paper. 'Seydlitz,' said an officer. "When I saw her last she was fairly battered. Jutland.' So the five battlecruisers were marching first to prison.

Over the Seydlitz one of our North Sea airships kept watch and ward. The leading German ships showed great plumes of smoke. After the Seydlitz came the Moltke, Derfflinger, Hindenburg, and Von der Tann. They were about three miles from us.

'What a target!' said our captain regretfully, and he made a rapid calculation of how long it would take our thirty-three battleships to sink their nine. The nine now loomed out of the haze, all moving as at some peaceful maneuvers. They were in this order: Friedrich der Grosse, flying the flag of Admiral von Reuter; Kaiser, Konig Albert, Prinzregent Luitpold, Kaiserin, Bayern (the very latest), Grosser Kurfurst, Markgraf, Kronprinz Wilhelm.

The grandest sight was that of the nine battleships towering in the misty light, magnificent and also ignominious. Soon after they were visible the sun burst out fully and made a path of rippling dazzle between us and the Germans. The phlegm of the British sailor was proof even against this miracle. Round me, the officers were calmly identifying the ships from their silhouette-books–'See the Derfflinger's tripod masts,' and so on. Our sailors showed no emotion at all. There was not a cheer in all the British fleet, although everywhere, on every turret and ledge, the men stood thickly, gazing silently or with some casual jest.

One man who said to me, 'This is what we've been waiting for all these years' was an exception. The sailorman thought of peace to come and leave at last. There was chivalry in his heart for a beaten foe. I heard one say: 'It's a fine sight, but I wouldn't be on one of them ships for the world.' An officer said to me: 'We all feel this is an unparalleled humiliation to a great fleet. The High Seas Fleet has fought well, and we have nothing against it. The submarines are another story. We have won the greatest and the most bloodless victories in the history of the world.'

There was a gap of three miles between the battleships and the seven light cruisers. These we could not see at all, nor the fifty German destroyers, all of the latest type, that closed the pageant. . .

Source:  The Lotus magazine, February 1919

A Navy Dentist's Heroism at Bouresches

Lieutenant JG Weeden Edward Osborne, USN

By John Frederick Andrews

Weeden Edward Osborne was born on 13 November 1892 in Chicago, Illinois. Little is known of his family. He and his sister, Elizabeth, were orphaned when their parents died. Weeden was taken in by the Allendale Farm and School for Boys in Lake Villa, Illinois.

Allendale was founded by Edward “Cap” Lounsberry Bradley in 1897 “to protect, rear, educate, elevate, and provide for homeless and neglected boys.” By 1901 there were five cottages, a school, library, gym, print shop, and chapel. The age when Osborne was taken in by Allendale is unknown, though one source stated it was after the turn of the century.

No record appears to exist about Elizabeth’s youth; Allendale Farm only admitted boys at the time. Some years later, Albert M. Johnson, the president of the National Life Insurance Company of the United States, headquartered at 29 LaSalle Street in Chicago, assisted in their education and support. His business address was used as the navy’s contact point with Elizabeth. How Johnson became interested in their situation is not clear. Though Johnson was not listed as being on the Allendale board in 1919, it is possible that his involvement came about through work with the school. A number of prominent Chicagoans on Allendale’s board.

Osborne was accepted into the Northwestern University Dental School and graduated there in 1915. Johnson’s support was probably particularly important during this time, since dental school and the equipment each student had to purchase was expensive. He joined the teaching staff at Denver University, Denver, CO, and underwent his dental examinations at the National Medical School on 23 April 1917. When he joined the U.S. Navy, his health record showed that was 68 inches tall, 150 pounds, light brown hair, fair complexion, gray eyes, with a slight build. He had 20/20 vision with moderate color blindness. Prior heath history included scarlet fever. An article in the Journal of the National Dental Association (referenced below) stated: “Described as being slight in build, nervous temperament, bright, forceful, energetic, and of sympathetic and lovable disposition.”

Lt. Osborne Was Attached to the 2nd Battalion, 
6th Marines for the Attack on Bouresches;
The Unit Is Shown Deployed at Triangle Farm to Start

His Service History from U.S. Navy Records—

6/5/1917: Enrolled with provisional rank Assistant Dental Surgeon LTJG, Class 4, Naval Coast Defense Reserve, cl 4, to serve for a period of 4 years from 6/5/17. Accepted and executed oath of office. 

6/6/17: To Boston Navy Yard to serve in active duty on the Naval Reserve Force until acceptance and execution of oath of office in Regular Navy.

6/19/17: Appointed Dental Surgeon in the Navy with rank LTJG for a probationary period of two years from 6/8/17.

7/3/17: Detached from Boston Navy Yard to Camp Burrage, Bumpkin Island, Boston for duty.

8/8/17:  Discharged from Naval Reserve Force to accept an appointment to the Regular Navy.

8/17/17: Continued duty at Boston Navy Yard. Appointed regular dental surgeon. (detached 8/19,  reported 8/30/17).

10/4/17: Osborne requested active duty with Marines in the American Expeditionary Force in France. Approved on 10/19/17. In his letter, he said: “Such work would be of great benefit to me, since it would be practical experience in field dental surgery, which, I believe is of immense value to a man in the service. In the event that equipment for overseas duty is lacking, I wish to state that I have practically a full equipment of my own for this service. This duty would be especially congenial to me as I am unmarried and have no dependent relatives.”

12/8/17: Detached to USS Alabama (detached 13 Dec, reported 18 Dec).

3/26/18: Detached to duty with 6th Marines.

5/15/18: Arrived and assigned to duty with 6th Marines.

Bouresches After the Fighting

Osborne got his wish, and at the end of March 1918, he was ordered to join the navy staff responsible for medical care of the 6th Marine Regiment. His orders arranged transit from New York to Liverpool. Available records don’t document his arrival in France, but it must have been a bit before 14 May 1918.

The 2nd Division of the American Expeditionary Forces—the AEF—included two combat infantry brigades. The 3rd Brigade was Regular Army. The 4th Brigade of Marines was composed of the 5th and 6th Marine Regiments. Navy Medical and Dental took care of the marines at the regimental level and below.

The 2nd Division departed from Verdun, where they had their first taste of combat, on 14 May 1918. They arrived in the Chaumont-en-Vexin area, northwest of Paris, about a week later. The 6th Marines medical staff was partially billeted in a chateau in the Isle Adam area by 20 May, so it was probably there that Osborne met his new commander. Osborne’s papers were cosigned by 6th Regimental Surgeon, Lt. Commander Wray Farwell on 28 May. The senior dental surgeon in the regiment was Lieutenant, later Lieutenant Commander Cornelius Mack.

Osborne’s arrival at his new duty station was probably very chaotic, though there is no record of his impressions. The 6th Regiment Navy medical team was still licking its wounds from a mustard gas attack on 4/13/18. The 74th Company of the 6th Marines lost 235 out of 250 men. One corpsman died and another was disabled in the rescue effort. In addition to joining a grieving and shocked command, Osborne would have been confronted with an array of U.S. Army Medical forms to learn on arrival (the Navy used separate forms). To top it off, his dental equipment didn’t arrive with him.

The Main Street of Bouresches Bears the Lieutenant's Name

Like most dentists of the day, Osborne owned his own dental equipment. It is unclear what dental gear the Navy furnished at the time. Osborne’s was delayed in transit, and never did catch up with him during his life. He apparently adapted to the lack of equipment by working alongside the corpsmen.

The 2nd Division was conducting exercises in preparation to back up the AEF 1st Division, which had gone into the attack near Cantigny, France. This was the first offensive action by the AEF—an opportunity to “bloody” the troops, gain open warfare experience and prove to the world that America could fight. A stunning German breakthrough in the Chemin-des-Dames area northwest of Reims changed everything. On 30 May, the 2nd Division was turned over to a desperate French command and transferred to the Chateau-Thierry area with only hours of prior notice.

The movement of the division to their new area of operation was chaotic. The only medical supplies and equipment the 4th Brigade medical staff had was what they could cram in their 24 small Ford ambulances. The French promised to provide all the care beyond the regimental level: the ambulance dressing stations, field, evacuation, and base hospitals. That promise vanished in the confusion. The division was hurtling into the biggest battle in the history of the Marine Corps with no medical support—not a single hospital or operating room. And, in the midst of the pandemonium was Osborne.

A dentist without his equipment is like an infantryman without a rifle, or a surgeon without instruments. Not useless, but not fully capable, either. As the 6th Regiment medical staff set up its aid station at Petit Montgivrault Farm, a short distance from Belleau Wood, it appears that Osborne worked more as a medical corpsman than a dentist. When the 4th Brigade went on the offensive on 6 June 1918, he volunteered to work with the 96th Company. Doctors and dentists didn’t work at the company level—only corpsmen. He didn’t have to do it. He could have stayed at the aid station.

Captain Donald Duncan led the 96th Company, 2nd Battalion, 6th Marines. The French commanders ordered the 2nd Division to attack across a broad front at 1700 hours that day. The company rushed to its step-off position minutes before H-hour. The preparatory barrage ended as Duncan’s men formed their lines and began to advance down a long rolling wheat field toward the town of Bouresches, 800 yards to the northeast. The field was quiet for the first few minutes of the company’s advance. Then the Germans hit them with machine gun fire, followed by artillery. Duncan continued forward, waving his marines on in the attack. Then, Duncan fell—a terrible abdominal wound. Osborne and a corpsman rushed to Duncan’s side. First Sergeant Sissler and Sergeant Sheridan who were with Duncan helped carry their fallen captain to the cover of a copse of trees where an aid station had been set up. An artillery shell hit them as they treated Duncan, killing Osborne, the corpsman, and Sissler. From his citations, it sounds as though Osborne had pulled several wounded marines from the field before Duncan was hit.

Osborne and others were buried near the site where they died. His body was disinterred on 22 October 1922. The examiner found the identification disk (dog tag) for Private John P.S. Thompson of the USMC 134th Co. 2nd Replacement Battalion in Osborne’s breast pocket. The body was identified at Osborne, however. The examiner remarked about evidence of bullet wounds, so it is likely that Osborne was wounded before the artillery shell killed him. Osborne was reburied on 30 October 1922 in the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery (1764) in Grave 39, Row 3, Block A.

Osborne was awarded the Army Distinguished Service Cross in General Order #126. The citation states: “During the advance on Bouresches, France, June 6 1918, he voluntarily risked his life by helping carry the wounded to places of safety and, while engaged in this difficult duty, was struck by a shell and killed.” The original Army DSC medal was sent to a Navy office sometime in 1919, but the package in which it was sent was lost. Elizabeth never received the medal and requested a duplicate in May 1919.

He was awarded two Army Silver Star citations in General Order #40 1918, Second Division, AEF. One citations stated: “For extraordinary heroism in stemming the German advance in this region and in thrusting it back from every position occupied by the Fourth Brigade from June 2nd to 11th inclusive. This northeast of Chateau Thierry (France), June 2-11, 1918.” The other stated: “Risked his life to aid the wounded when the advance upon the enemy of June 6th (1918) was temporarily checked by a hail of machine-gun fire. He helped to carry Captain Donald C. Duncan to a place of safety when that officer was wounded, and had almost reached it when a shell killed both. Having joined the regiment but a few days before its entry into the line and, being new to the service, he displayed a heroism worthy of its best traditions. This on June 6, 1918.”

He was later awarded the Navy Medal of Honor. The citation read: “For extraordinary heroism in actual conflict with the enemy and under fire, during the advance on Bouresches, France, on June, 1918, in helping to carry the wounded to a place of safety. While engaged in this heroic duty, he was killed. He was at the time attached to the Sixth Regiment, U.S. Marines.” The medal was awarded in accordance with the Act of February 4, 1919. The medal and citation were forwarded to Elizabeth on 23 October 1920 at her home in Long Island City, New York. She confirmed receiving the medal in a letter dated 11 November 1920.

At the time, there were two versions of the Navy Medal of Honor. The “Tiffany Cross” was designed by Tiffany & Company. This version was awarded for combat actions, while the original Navy MOH could be awarded for non-combat actions as well. In 1942 the Navy no longer awarded the MOH for non-combat actions and went back to the single, original medal.

Osborne’s other awards included the Italian War Cross and Diploma. It was not uncommon at the time for multiple medals to be awarded for the same action.

Communications between the Navy and Elizabeth were complicated by several things. Osborne had listed Elizabeth as his next of kin, with a mailing address c/o A.M. Johnson, 29 LaSalle Street, Chicago, Illinois. During that time, Elizabeth married Harry Hutchins Fisher, Jr. He served in the Navy, and over the next several years her address changed several times. Her notification of his death was delayed for these reasons.

In 1919, Elizabeth requested his remains be returned to the US for burial. In a letter dated 18 May 1921, she reversed this and requested that he remain buried at the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery, where he remains to this time.

The Torpedo Boat Destroyer Osborne was dedicated and launched at the Bethlehem Shipping Company, Squantum, MA on 29 December 1919. The sponsors were Elizabeth Osborne Fisher, assisted by Mrs. Channing Cox, the wife of the governor of Massachusetts. This was authorized in General Order #518, 1920, Navy Department.

In 1929, Elizabeth requested the right to pilgrimage to his grave, listing herself as his sister and his in loco parentis. The Navy reviewed the application but turned her down, stating that her, claim of being his in loco parentis was not possible, since he was of sound mind and body when he entered and served in the Navy.

Elizabeth apparently died in 1934. The story skips forward to 2002, when the FBI recovered a Tiffany Medal of Honor with his name stamped on the back. The person in possession of the medal at the time attempted to sell it, which is illegal. This occurred in South Carolina. Who had it and how they came into possession of it remains unclear. Some questions have been raised about the mechanical stamping of his name on the back of the medal, where many others were more finely engraved. The medal is now in the Navy Museum. A photo of the medal can be found at: http://www.navy.mil/view_imagex.asp?id=6972&t=1.

The United States Marine Corps established the Lieutenant Junior Grade Weedon E. Osborne Award to recognize a Navy dental officer who made significant contributions in support of operational readiness while serving with the Marines.

The spelling of Osborne’s first name is a curiosity and has been the subject of misspelling since his death. His signature on navy documents show clearly that he spelled his name “Weeden”. This was also the spelling his sister used in her correspondence about him. It is the spelling on his headstone at the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery. However, many other documents misspell his first name “Weedon.” That is shown on the back of the Medal of Honor and the U.S. Marine Corps Lt. J.G. Weedon E Osborne Memorial Award.

References: Photograph from U.S. Navy Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, courtesy of André Sobocinski, who also provided a wealth of other US Navy records used for this biography; Lakevillahistory.org; The Journal of the National Dental Association; Navy Medics with the Marines, 1917-1919: The Medical Department of the United States Navy with the Army and Marine Corps in France in World War I; To the Limit of Endurance: A Battalion of Marines in the Great War