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September 1, 1918: Don Martin writes long dispatch about fighting near Juvigny

Don Martin diary entry for Sunday, September 1, 1918: 
Stayed in today. Nearly all the other correspondents did the same thing. Battersby of [Reuters] London and Captain Morgan returned from the front at 3 p.m. and said that the Americans had gone ahead farther and had taken 550 prisoners. I told [Edwin] James [New York Times] and [Lincoln] Eyre [New York World]. James sneaked off and wrote a story about it which he filed at the telegraph office. He has queer notions of fair dealing. However I wrote a story myself. Got letters from Dorothy (in French and very clever), from [brother] Rock and [sister] Alta. Had dinner at the Golden Bull with Eyre, [Sam] Johnson and [Herbert] Corey [Everybody’s Magazine]. Spent the evening around the hotel. 
                  The ‘story’ Don Martin wrote and cabled to New York on September 1 was another masterpiece - almost 2,900 words long. The New York Herald put it on page 1 of its September 2 edition.
DON MARTIN, HID IN SHELL HOLE 
500 YARDS FROM GERMAN LINE, WATCHES BATTLE AT JUVIGNY
Herald Correspondent Sees Americans 
Under Rain of Lead Creep Upon Foe
ADVANCE BY SERIES OF BURROWED HOLES
Heads Bob Up and Scoot Down 
Like Prairie Dogs in Their Short Dashes
By DON MARTIN
Special Correspondent of the Herald with the American Armies in France
(Special Cable to the Herald)
WITH THE AMERICAN ARMIES IN FRANCE, Sunday
           Today on the outskirts of Juvigny I saw a remarkable panorama of modern war. East of me German machine guns were attempting to hold off the advancing Americans.
             I was with some of our officers in a shell hole within five hundred yards of the front line, which extends along the edge of the railroad skirting Juvigny. Looking over the slope which extends to the railroad track, not a soldier was visible. With only the distant roar of the guns audible, the very silence seemed weird – uncanny to find here in the very lap of war such seeming tranquility.
               Officers had been advised not to show their heads above the shell hole. The reason for this order soon was understood by all. I glanced through a peephole and for a second I saw acres of the sloping field in front of me transformed suddenly into life when our men there lifted up their heads. 
                 Immediately it was the signal for the staccato-like sputter of enemy machine guns on a hill a quarter of a mile distant. Quickly the heads disappeared, but the sputter continued for ten minutes. Then hundreds of heads popped up again, like prairie dogs, and again the machine guns opened on them. These tactics continued, but every time the heads of our men were lifted it meant a short dash forward toward the Huns. When the machine guns would begin firing at them they would spring like foxes into holes which they had burrowed into the side of the hill. To dash up this hillside was certain death. They had dug their holes the night before – methodically, determinedly, for they were after the Huns.
Waves Burrow Like Beavers
                 I saw them dart forward twice, while there were short lulls in the enemy’s machine gun fire, and they used their shovels like beavers burrowing new holes and working in the very shadow of death, but always advancing slowly and surely. They knew that enemy observers were watching them and that these observers were giving the firing orders to the Huns in the machine gun nests.
            It was thrilling to see our daring runners – youngsters whose duty required them to take despatches to the platoon leaders in the very front lines – dash through a rain of machine gun bullets. They left company headquarters every fifteen minutes, and they ran, they leaped, they crawled, sometimes springing back to cover, to escape what was certain death. 
                As I watched the panorama I observed two of our soldiers in another shell hole fifty feet away. They were operating a telephone switchboard, through which were connected telephone wires from other shell holes and those from headquarters. These operators were as calm as if they were operating a switchboard in the Waldorf-Astoria, although they knew death was their portion if they for a second carelessly exposed themselves. One of these operators called over to us: - “Major ----- is wanted at the telephone.”
              Major ----- took up the telephone receiver and spoke with the company commander. Thus is the system of perfect communications maintained even in the very first line.
             It may be imagined by some persons that the artillery could blast these enemy machine gun nests to pieces. This would be possible only if every yard of earth over with the advance were made was churned up by the guns.
                 The Germans in the Soissons-Vesle region have received these orders: - “There’s where you die.” Therefore they stick in those positions – at least many of them do – until death comes. There are, of course, exceptions. Some seek refuge until the Americans are on them and then they shout “Kamerade!” at the last moment.
Wounded Twenty-Two Times
               An American soldier, who was born in Austria, has gotten the record number of machine gun bullet wounds. He has just twenty-two of them. He received one bullet in his neck, four in one arm, eight in the other arm and the rest of them were scattered over various parts of his body. Despite all this, however, he is alive and happy and soon will be well. He said that he volunteered, but that he would hate to have to fight Austria.
                “I will hate her as I hate the Huns, though, if she puts her men in the line to fight against the Americans,” he told me. “It’s damn the Huns for me!”
Fighting at Juvigny Savage
                The fighting in the village of Juvigny was savage. When the Germans found the Americans getting around the town on two sides they tried to escape, but our men swept through the streets like demons, bayonetting, hurling grenades and using their rifles and pistols. Many of the Germans tried to hide in cellars and caves, but our men knew their locations and rooted them out. Sometimes they would come across sullen groups of the enemy who attempted to fight. In such cases the Americans showered them with grenades, killing all.
              To get into the village the Americans had to pass through a strip of territory which was heavily saturated with gas. They traversed this safely, however, by the use of their masks, at the handling of which they are now adept. In one cave in the village they found a battalion. Fifty Germans surrendered. The others were either killed or wounded. 
            During the mopping up process in Juvigny the Americans were harassed by the fire of an enemy sniper, who seemed to be everywhere at once. A detachment of our men was sent out to kill him. In tem minutes the detachment returned, each man in it having put a bullet into the sniper.
Many German Prisoners Killed
              There were many dramatic incidents in the fighting around Juvigny. One of them occurred when German prisoners were being sent to our rear. A German shell came whistling through the air and crashed right in the midst of them, exploding.
                 Many of the German prisoners were killed or wounded and for a few seconds the greatest confusion existed among them. More than two hundred of them swept across the fields and a few straggling Americans thought that the Hun army had managed to break through. They were charging these panic stricken Huns, prepared to battle with them, even if the odds were ten against two hundred.
                 Quickly were the Germans rounded up, and they held up their hands and shouted “Kamerade!” quite lustily. At first these German prisoners thought that the Americans had gotten them in a trap and had shelled them purposely. When they were satisfied that it was a German shell that had struck in their midst they cursed the Kaiser with a wrath that seemed genuine.
                 I talked with a dozen of them who spoke English. They expressed the opinion that probably their officers had shelled them for surrendering so easily.
                     “The last thing that my mother said to me was to surrender to the Americans if I got a chance,” one youthful prisoner told me. “When do I go to New York?”
Expect To Be Sent To New York
                  Indeed several of them asked if they would be sent to New York City. They all seemed eager to go there.
              The prisoners were high class soldiers, but nevertheless they were happy that they had been captured. They said that the German losses had been very heavy. One company, they said, had only twenty-four effectives when it was put into the line. The loss in officers, they added, has been very heavy and the Franco-American artillery has been playing havoc throughout all their lines.
               A similar sentiment was expressed to me by Corporal Frank Klett, of Dowagiac, Mich. I saw him just after he returned to our lines after having carried out a dangerous mission. I asked him what he thought of the war.  It is tough business,” he replied, “but we’ll lick them.”
“Boche Must Get What’s Coming”
                  Cleveland Matthews, of Fond du Lac, Wis., after having finished a skirmish, said: -  I can’t say that I am fond of the war, but as long as I am here I am going to stay till the Boche get what’s coming to him, which, take it from me, is plenty.”
                    A German prisoner who had a small white flag in his pocket said:’ “The Americans don’t understand ‘Kamerade,’ but they do understand a white flag.”
                  There is no doubt that there are many Germans who are eager to surrender, since they now know that it is impossible for them to win. Nevertheless, the morale of the German army on the whole is not bad enough to justify the belief that the Hun will be easily whipped. There still is a long, hard job ahead.
                In the fighting in the vicinity of Juvigny there were many incidents that furnish further proof of American courage and tenacity. The Americans were put in the hardest points in the line side by side with crack French units, who were determined, with American aid, to force the Hun back. The enemy meanwhile had backed his lines with one of this best divisions, one composed of young and fresh men. He placed a machine gun with every platoon and told them to hold on until death and to prevent the Americans advancing.
                    Our men were eager to start at the Huns, but it was necessary for them to await the word from the French. When it came they went forward in two waves and drove the Huns back approximately two kilometres on Friday. Saturday I was at regimental headquarters when a foot runner dashed up and delivered a message to the colonel commanding. The runner was fresh from the front lines and caves. Men of this company captured about a hundred German prisoners.
                “We have got all the enemy corralled except one sniper, and we are after him,” the message said. This same company plunged through the village streets slaying every enemy in its path who offered resistance and mopping up cellars and caves. Men of this company captured about a hundred prisoners.
               I talked with Private John Muko, a stalwart factory worker of Oshkosh, Wis.
              “At three o’clock in the morning we were told that we would go over the top half an hour later,” he said. “We were all ready. The railroad was our objective, and to get there it was necessary to swing across a small valley. A part of our command was composed of machine gunners. None of the gang was afraid of the Boche machine guns or of anything else.”
                “We swung down the little valley at an easy trot. In a moment the enemy machine gun bullets were flying all ar    ound us. Occasionally a man would drop, but not often.
            “When we reached the bottom of the valley the enemy artillery got busy and shells were falling around us. One of them struck near me, and a chunk of dirt the size of a man’s hat struck me in the stomach and knocked me cold for a minute or two. Ten minutes later, however, I was all right again and went on and caught up with the bunch. We all reached the railroad.
Huns Desert Their Guns
            “By the time we got there we found that the Boche had deserted his machine guns and had fled into the wood nearby. We followed them there and I picked up two of them. I killed them both. I had a pistol in one hand and a rifle in the other, and was shooting both of them at the same time. The rest of our men were doing the same thing.”
            I asked him what our men did as they started the attack.
             “All I know about it is that the sergeant said to the bunch just as we left the fox holes: - ‘Remember, boys, we’re hard boiled birds who have got to lick the Huns – so keep going.’ “That’s all I know about it.” “Keep going’ is our motto, and we’ve been going good. It’s a tough job to lick the Huns, but only wait. How about it, Hank?”
         He spoke to Henry Sebade, a hulking, broad shouldered farmer from Creighton, Neb. Both of them had been in the very thickest part of the recent fighting. Sebade, who like Muko, is of German ancestry, replied: - “Lick ‘em? Sure, we’ll lick ‘em! But I’d like to get a chance to scrap in the open, with no holes – just game fighting.”
              Lieutenant Frederick Malloy, of Ashville, N. C., was a newspaper reporter prior to the war, now a member of Headquarters Troop, begged his general to permit him with twenty mounted men to go in advance of the infantry in the attack on Juvigny. The general was obliged to refuse this. The job the lieutenant had sought was the most hazardous possible. It meant that he and his companions would gallop out and draw the fire of the enemy, thus revealing the position of his gums.
              Lieutenant Malloy, however, was permitted to be the despatch bearer between the front line and division headquarters. During the firing he galloped his mount as far as possible and then, dismounting, crawled to the front lines. He made five trips this way and went through them all unhurt. I talked with his after his return from one of these trips.
Cavalry Eager For Fray
                “We want to fight,” he told me. “All the men in my troop are crazy to get in and show the Hun what American cavalry can do.”  “I was in the front lines and saw our men crawl out of their rabbit holes and go over the top. I could hardly restrain myself. I begged the general to let me take charge of some machine guns. “You see, my men were born on horseback. They are a part of the ‘hardboiled bird’ outfit. They can ride anything with four legs. I think the general will let us in the next time.”
New York Officer’s Ordeal
                 Lieutenant (name deleted by the censor), of New York City, was brought in with a wound in his abdomen after a thrilling and harrowing ordeal. He was struck by a fragment of a shell and fell unconscious. When he revived he was alone and was partly covered with earth that the shell had thrown up. He worked his way out, but found shells again falling thick all around him. This was at eight o’clock one morning. He managed finally to work his way to the bottom of another shell hole and lay there, unable to move. As he waited for the stretcher bearers to come to him shells were screeching above him constantly and his cries could not penetrate the deafening roar of the guns.
                He lay there all day and when night came on there was no sound on the battlefield except the din and the patter made by the machine gun crews. He decided that death could bring him the only relief. Soon he slept.
                 Morning came and the shells continued to fall near him. One of them struck within five feet of him, and ten feet away another fell.
                 Lieutenant ----- said that hope returned to him with the sunshine. It brought to him a desire to live. He summoned all his strength and dragged himself out of the shell hole and across a field within 600 feet of a wood where he believed some of our troops were quartered. Crawling on his stomach, he pulled himself along by grasping stubs of wheat, and as he neared the wood he tried to attract the attention of the men there by waving his hands, despite the danger of enemy snipers.
               Finally he reached the wood where he found some of our men in the trenches. They took him to a field hospital, but when he got there he was in a comatose condition and remained that way for hours. Latest reports from him said that he would recover.
                 I talked with the Rev. Maitland Bartlett, pastor of the Beck Memorial Presbyterian Church, of No. 980 East 180th Street, New York City, who has been a constant worker close to the front lines since he reached here last February. I saw him last Saturday night at a dressing station, saying kind words to the lads who were brought in there.
               “A lad was brought in whose hand was penetrated to the bone,” he told me. “The surgeon asked me to talk to him while he performed a very painful operation. The lad replied that we need not worry about him. I talked to him and gave him cigarettes. He smoked three of them while the surgeon worked. Meanwhile he talked and smiled calmly, never once wincing, although the pain was so great that his face was white and cold perspiration stood on his forehead. He continued this way until he fainted. I never saw a braver exhibition of nerve.
              “They are all the same. They want cigarettes when they reach the dressing stations, and they want some one to speak to them – to say something – anything. If they see a familiar face they are happy. That is why I am here night and day.”
       Don Martin's daily report for  September 1 for Paris was published in the Paris Herald on Monday, September 2, 1918.
HUNS FLED BEFORE CHARGE 
OF AMEXES WHO TOOK JUVIGNY
Germans Retire Artillery from Region 
and Are Evidently Preparing Fresh Retreat
(OFFICIAL TELEGRAM TO THE HERALD)
By DON MARTIN
WITH THE AMERICAN ARMIES, Sunday
              Fighting with the same brilliance as the French on their left and right, Americans last night and to-day continued their advance against the Germans north of Soissons.
             They went forward two kilometres from Juvigny, driving the Huns before them and ending their advance with a total of 550 prisoners, who were taken from caves, from cellars, from underbrush, where they had hidden in terror during the savage barrage from the French guns, and from trenches.
             The new prisoners taken in the latest advance bring the total taken by this American unit since its entry into the line on Thursday to nearly 1,000. This record hardly justifies the excited statement by the German officers to their men that the Americans are so bloodthirsty they never take prisoners. The Germans were in a state  of great fright when the Americans burst among them last night following the occupation of Juvigny. The Huns were apparently not expecting a second attack so soon. The Americans dashed through open spaces and fell upon the startled and affrighted enemy, who ran. A few remained and fought vigorously. Later, a barrage was put down, and in its wake the Americans continued their advance, directing their movement almost due east.
              German artillery fire was weak, indicating that the Germans have been moving their guns well out of this region. The constant belching of the French and American artillery gave the Germans no rest in their hurried sprint to the rear. Prisoners said that this artillery fire has raised havoc with the enemy’s back areas.
Expect Hun Retirement
              With the pushing forward of the French-American line at this vital point, it is reasonably certain that the Huns will make a withdrawal, if, in fact, they have not already done so. It is certain to quicken the Germans in their retreat to the Chemin des Dames, if such a retreat is in prospect, as many experts believe to be the case.
              By capturing the terrain which they have taken during the last three days the Americans and the French have gained a secure foothold on heights which command the surrounding country, and it is likely that the enemy will find life unbearable in the valleys which the French and Americans now command.
              It will be interesting for the Germans to know that many of the Americans who are doing the fighting in this Soissons region are of German ancestry, some with German parents and many more whose grandparents migrated to America. These men are splendid Americans and are proving their fighting qualities.
              I asked a stalwart soldier named John Metko what the soldiers said when they left their fox-holes near Juvigny and started for the German machine-gun nests.
“Keep Going” Is Motto

              “I didn’t hear anyone say anything,” he said. “The sergeant said something before we started though. He told us a half hour before the start what the scheme was. Then he said, ‘Remember we’re hard-boiled birds who are going to clean up this bunch of cannibals, and we’ve got just one motto: keep going.’ Licking the Huns is nothing if you can get at them. They don’t know anything much except how to fire machine-guns, and take it from me, we’re getting onto their game.”

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