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Brodhead's Tribute to her Men of the Service

1914-1918

Compiled by The Civics Club

©1921 Brodhead, Wisconsin (Cantwell Printing Co., Madison, Wis.)


Extracts from Letters of the Boys With the Colors

(Copied from Newspapers)
From Lieutenant L. B. Rowe (pp. 121-123)

November 15, 1917, Camp Travis, Texas.

"I'm attached to the Field Hospital, the hospital that does the first real surgery on the battlefield, and in action is located
about five miles back of the front in a cellar or basement of any building big enough. We also have tentage we can use in summer in the open. I like it here and like my superior officers and that's a mighty big item in the army.
"There are four Field Hospitals to a division (36,000 men) and they are located where they can be of most service as
they are mobile units. There are six surgeons to each hospital and eighty-two enlisted men to do the nursing, first aid, litter work, etc., and change dressings. The surgeons, if we ever see service, will certainly do some surgery.
"Coming back to this town - it's one of the most delightful places in the good old U.S.A. for the winter season. Just
picture to yourself a fine, calm, warm, ideal old-fashioned September day, cloudless and no wind, and you have the beautiful winter climate of San Antonio. Of course, occasionally, they have what they call a 'norther,' a sudden cold wave that only serves to remind the natives what the northern states suffer all winter. Houses and buildings are of the old style Mexican or Spanish, and are odd and foreign in appearance. This end of the U.S. is really the only foreign country in the U.S. All the rest looks pretty much the same. Of course there is a Mexican section to the town but they stay there, except for those of 'class' and money whose company is sought by everyone. This place is 127,000 now, by no means a town, but rather has all the ear marks of a city. Camp Travis is the National Army Cantonment with its 40,000 men.
"We have a class in equitation taught by Col. Leary, an old cavalry officer, and he teaches us the correct method of
riding in all its various phases. For instance, one thing I'm learning is to take hurdles on the run without stirrups, without hold on the reins, and with hands behind the head. Imagine me on a horse, if you can, but really I'm a fair rider already, with two weeks of instruction one hour daily, and it's all on account of having an expert instructor; and the horses! Say, those 'birds' are almost human, all old cavalry horses and will obey commands of a leader without touching a rein. To turn one around, just touch the opposite flank with the heel; no one ever speaks to a cavalry horse, all being done with the heels, reins and arm signals. In formation though, reins are not needed; all obey the commander. It's truly remarkable, and I think more of a horse than I ever did in my life.
"Besides that I teach anatomy and physiology an hour a day to the enlisted men, drill them two hours, attend two-hour
lectures myself and often a lecture after supper.
"I witnessed a review of this whole division last week and it was a truly impressive sight, one that quickens the pulse and
tightens the throat with pride; a sight that no true American can look upon without its producing a certain emotion - to watch these young men of less than two months training, marching in rhythmical stride, flags flying, and the bands playing 'The Stars and Stripes Forever.' I wish everyone might have the privilege."

San Antonio, Texas, January 27, 1918.

"I am in uniform again after seven weeks in casts. My leg is not strong enough to bear much weight yet, but I get around
on crutches pretty well. Go most anywhere with the aid of the jitneys. The leg is straight. I worried about it a long time till I saw it out of the cast and now I worry for fear it won't get strong. Sometimes a bone does not make bone, and is slow even when it does. I worry about all the things that sometimes happen because I know too well what often does happen, so that's one handicap in being a physician.
"Yesterday Bob Warn was to come to eat at noon and he never came. He is out at Leon Springs twenty miles north of
here at Camp Stanley, running an army truck and also teaching the telephone business to the student officers at the Officers' Training Camp.
"Captain Vernon Castle, erstwhile dancer and now expert aviator, is at Fort Worth teaching our boys too. He made 300
trips back of the German lines without getting killed, and then after ten months continuous work, they thought he needed a rest, so they sent him here to teach. The town is full of French and English flyers and we had a Chinese flyer here, too, the other day. Katherine Stinson, the famous woman flyer, is to be here soon. This is her home and she is getting ready to conduct a private school here with her brother, also an expert. We have Kelly field, one and two, and Brooks field; also a balloon school, the only camp in the United States that has all branches of the service represented, Infantry, Artillery, Quartermaster Corps, Ordnance, Signal Corps, Aviation, Balloon, Grenade School, Officers' Training Camp and Cavalry.
"This is the largest flying school in the world and the planes are so thick over town that they look like dragon flies at
times. Balloons go over at all heights. We watched two the other day that got up over town and the breeze played out and there they were stranded two hours. They went up and down trying to get into a current of air, but didn't find it. They didn't dare try to land in the city and so had to wait until the breeze came back. They thought it was great sport and I guess it is. I'm going to ride with one of them when this leg gets well. They fly free, you know, in training and light when they get ready. Of course in service they keep a string on them and use them for observation. If an enemy flier puts the balloon out of commission, they tumble out and trust to their parachutes which are folded and fastened to the outside of the basket. Each man wears a harness attached to his back and shoulders, and that is fastened to the parachute. Exciting business I should think, especially if something happens to the balloon.
"Saw some French government war pictures the other night and they were the best I've seen yet. Simply marvelous is
the organization they have at present. It shows how far we have yet to go before we can say we have an army. We are not half ready - in training or equipment. They show the actual picture of a French flyer shooting down a German plane. Showed the German fluttering down like a leaf and the smoking ruins a second later. Picture taken from a plane following close behind the fighter, showed how they control the machine with one hand and operate the Lewis gun with the other. It was the greatest picture I've seen yet in connection with the war.
"Write when you get time."

September 8, 1918, France.

"We spent about five weeks in a small village not so very far from the lines, then two weeks ago moved up here in motor
trucks, and our division is now holding a sector of the front.
"We are not so far front the front but that there are plenty of guns back of us - big ones I mean - for, of course, the real
stuff - the 75's, the 6 and 8 inch - are ahead of us and they speak American. The German can understand their language even if he is a little shy in gray matter. A flock of the big boys behind us opened up yesterday for a while and I thought the whole country must be full of guns, but one can never tell. They may move a six inch gun a mile in one half hour, and by the time the Boche bombs the spot where he was, the old six inch boy is setting up ready for business elsewhere.
"I think I may say some things about the Boche aviator as he is much written about and as common up here as field mice.
I see them daily and hear them nightly. So far, when they have passed over us, they have kept their hands in their pockets, that is, they have not dropped anything. That is one of their mean habits - dropping bombs. They are after guns, ammunition dumps, aviation fields, convoys and things like that though, so they leave us alone.
"They have one aviator that is a pippin at getting our observation balloons. I've seen him get three close to us within a
week. He soars high up over 15,000 feet or better, and his own anti-aircraft puts up a barrage as a blind to make us think they are trying to et one of our aviators, and so we pay no attention to the hound. Then he circles over one of our balloons and dives straight down or at a slight angle. When he gets within about 200 yards of it, he lets go with a stream of explosive bullets, puncturing Mr. Gasbag in many places. He flattens out after thirty or forty shots and, perhaps within one hundred yards of the balloon, flies away as fast as his beast will take him and begins to climb rapidly so as to get away from aircraft and anti-aircraft guns. He gets away every time perhaps because our defense is not all that it might be. It looks more like a sporting event than a war stunt. Oh, yes, the poor innocent aernoaut, the balloonist, was forgotten but, never mind, he has been out in his parachute for some time when the aviator dives, and about ten seconds after a stream of hot lead goes through the balloon, she bursts into flames, rapidly burns up and falls to the ground. The hydrogen gas burns like gasoline vapor, readily and explosively. The balloonist may light in a tree top, but at any rate he's safer there than in the balloon. One fellow over here has been up thirteen times lately and came down nine times in a parachute, though the balloon was not attacked. Men have jumped from planes piloted by another, but so far as I know, no one has successfully gotten out of a burning plane he himself was piloting. Rodman Law at San Antonio jumped from a plane 7,000 feet in the air, piloted by the famous aviator Stinson. We are reliably informed that the British aviator is the very best of the Allied aviators. The Boche is a smart guy but has no show with him. One British plane will successfully cope with four or even six Boche, shoot up a few and get away with his own hide; but the particular outfit of Boche we've seen are real clever boys and it will take more and better Allied aviators here before we see their finish.
"The familiar shape of the Boche's fighting plane, the Albatross, can readily be discerned by us. The wings have the
shape of a bird moving with a distinct backward swing. Our planes are flats with square ends. All German planes wear the black maltese cross while all the Allies wear the concentric circles of red, white and blue. The British use one color in the center spot, the French another and the American the other, with the outer circles colored with the two remaining colors as the case may be. So it's always easy to tell French, British or American if close enough to see.
"Another pretty sight is to watch the searchlights at night trying to locate a Boche aviator overhead. One can hear him
plainly enough, but the lights rarely spot him. He's small and the sky is very large.
"We follow the army so we do not know how long we'll be here. We do not try to carry everything with us. Our trunks
we sent to Paris. I can pack and be ready to go with only fifteen minutes notice. We have a surgeon from New Orleans with us, a Southerner, who has begun to shiver already. He already dresses like an Eskimo. He was in the Chateau Thierry drive and had a lot of experience, so we gain much information from him. He's an excellent surgeon, and, as he is attached to our outfit indefinitely, I expect to enjoy the next month or so immensely, as he's a regular fellow. We have eight medical officers with this organization and eighty-three enlisted men. Nothing much to do unless there is a drive on; then we may work for from two to even four days without rest. We get chocolate, cigars and cigarettes from the Red Cross, Y.M.C.A. and Salvation Army, so we do not suffer for sweets and smokes like we did the first month we were in France. It is easier to get stuff near the front than further back. The Y.M.C.A. charge the cost of the article. The Red Cross are the real helpers. The others also do a commendable work.
"Well, good luck to Wisconsinites and hope you get coal for the winter."

September 14, 1918, Somewhere in Alsace.

"I can't see why we are not allowed to tell just where we are, since the Germans know exactly all the time what
divisions they are facing and just how many men there are. We've been here more than a week and are holding down the old 'Hindenburg line' that they said we could not take. Our Division did in three days what the French said couldn't be done and now we are taking our time getting settled in the nice German dugouts. The boys complain because they face the wrong way and because the electric lights won't work. The Germans blew up the light plant the day they retired. I say retired, but if you had seen them you would have said they ran like hell.
"Last night we sent the Germans about a million tons of cast iron, and a varied assortment of all kinds of heavy hard-
ware that we had no other use for, and in about two hours Fritz got in a carload and he shipped it to us in great haste. I wasn't out admiring the moon or the beautiful night either. When that stuff comes tearing over there, we just naturally can't stand the 'night air.' It isn't healthy, so we take to Fritz's fine dugouts and underground holes, and wait until they get it off their chests.
"I am with an infantry outfit just now which is holding the front line trenches. I came out to take the place of a Doctor
that got killed by shrapnel last week; he failed to flatten out when he heard the shell coming. If he had he would have been O.K. as none of those with him got a scratch. Say, I can lie so flat on the ground that it seems even my ears flatten out and, so far, the Boche haven't gotten my address. I plan to try to bring home my Boche souvenirs in my hands, not my hide. We are merely taking care of sick just now as there is a lull in the fighting, except artillery, and they never quit as long as they have the hardware. We have been expecting to go back any day. They have retired all the other divisions that took part in the big drive but ours, so we'll go back soon. We had some hard work during the drive, as many shrapnel wounds and machine gun wounds were dressed by this outfit. We are the most advanced of the medical departments and I must say it's interesting to say the least.
"We are occupying a German machine gunners' nest, built of solid concrete three feet thick on all sides, with bunks,
electric light, etc., stove and all. We just took over their nest and started keeping house.
"Write to me."

L. B. ROWE.


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