MY EXPERIENCES IN THE WORLD WAR
CHAPTER I
Telegram Indicating My Selection to Go to France—Confirmation by Message from Chief of Staff—Review of Impressions—Germany’s Preparation—Our Government’s Inaction and Lack of Foresight —Training of Command in Mexico—Loyalty of People in the Southwest—Draft Law
ON May 3, 1917, four weeks after the United States had declared war on Germany, I received the following telegram from my father-in-law, the late Senator F. E. Warren, in Washington:
"Wire me today whether and how much you speak, read and write French.”
At this time I was in command of the Southern Department, and was stationed at Fort Sam Houston, which adjoins the city of San Antonio, Texas. Naturally, Senator Warren’s telegram suggested that I was to be assigned to some duty in France, but as no intimation had been given out regarding the extent of our active participation in the war, the message was somewhat puzzling. However, I telegraphed the following reply:
"Spent several months in France nineteen eight studying language. Spoke quite fluently: could read and write very well at that time. Can easily reacquire satisfactory working knowledge."
My reply, to be sure, was rather optimistic, yet it was comparatively accurate and perhaps justified by the possibilities to be implied from Senator Warren’s telegram. A few days later I received from him the following letter:
"DEAR JACK:
“This is what happened: Last night, about ten o’clock, the Secretary of War rang me up and wanted to know if I would call in and see him this morning, and I responded that I would if I could reach him at nine o’clock. This is the first time he has ever asked me to call for a consultation.
"When I reached him, he said, in the most distant and careless way: ‘Oh, by the way, before I discuss the matter about which I asked you to call—do you happen to know whether Pershing speaks French?’ (This is the first time your name was ever mentioned between the Secretary of War and me, direct.) I said I was not certain about that; that I knew he was a linguist along the lines of Spanish and, to some extent, Japanese, and all of the Philippine dialects (a pardonable exaggeration by one’s father-in-law)—that perhaps my wife might know, as she speaks French a little and reads it readily. He said, ‘Well, it is of no special consequence, only I happened to think of it at this moment.’ I replied, ‘Well, I’ll ask my wife about it to-day and see whether she knows, and will let you know.’ He then said, ‘If you don’t mind, do so.’ And then he proceeded to discuss quite fully some appropriation matters on which I intended to go to work upon my arrival at the Capitol.
"Of course you will know what this means, the same as I do. It may mean nothing at all. But perhaps you have already written to the Department upon the subject or, rather, the one to which it
“I hope you will wire me promptly upon receipt of my telegram, so that I may tell the Secretary ‘what my wife said about it (?).’
“Affectionately,
"F. E. WARREN.”
Shortly after the receipt of the private wire and before the above letter reached me, a telegram, dated May 2nd, came from Major General Hugh L. Scott, the Chief of Staff, containing the opening words, ‘‘For your eye alone,” followed by a message in code:
“Under plans under consideration is one which will require among other troops, four infantry regiments and one artillery regiment from your department for service in France. If plans are carried out, you will be in command of the entire force. Wire me at once the designation of the regiments selected by you and their present stations.”
I construed this message to mean that these troops were to form a division, which, together with such others as might be sent over at once, would be under my command.
Within a day or so after the receipt of Scott’s telegram, I intimated to Colonel M. H. Barnum, my Chief of Staff, that we might be called upon for a recommendation, and after consultation with him I selected the 16th, 18th, 26th and 28th Regiments of Infantry and the 6th Field Artillery. These, together with two other artillery regiments and the necessary auxiliary units, were later organized as our 1st Division.
I had scarcely given a thought to the possibility of my being chosen as commander-in-chief of our forces abroad, as afterwards developed, although my old friend, Major General J. Franklin Bell, had written me that he thought my selection almost certain. After I left the Philippines, in 1913, where he was in command, he and I had kept up an intermittent correspondence in which we freely exchanged confidences on army matters. In one of his letters written early in April, 1917, he spoke of the possibility of our sending an army to France and gave a list of the general officers who might be considered for the supreme command. Discussing the chances for and against each one, he predicted, much to my surprise, that all the others, including himself, would be passed over and that I would be selected. I was the junior on the list of major generals, hence could not fully accept General Bell’s view, but he was so strongly convinced that he was right that he requested an assignment under my command. The major generals senior to me at the time were, in order of rank, Leonard Wood, J. Franklin Bell, Thomas H. Barry, Hugh L. Scott and Tasker H. Bliss.
From the day of my entrance into West Point up to middle age I had hoped the time would come when I could return to civil life while still young enough to take up law or go into business. But successive assignments that offered chances for active field duty and adventure had held me in the Army. Now that there had come an opportunity for service to the country such as had fallen to the lot of but few men, I considered myself especially fortunate to have remained. Throughout my career I have never ceased to wonder whether, after all, we are not largely the creatures of destiny.
When the incident occurred at Sarajevo that caused the smoldering embers of hatred and jealousy in Europe to burst into flame, my command, the 8th Infantry Brigade, was stationed along the Mexican Border and I was on leave, spending a few weeks with my family in Cheyenne, Wyoming. My wife and I had been in France in 1908 and witnessed the excitement of the French people during the crisis that followed the seizure by Austria of the provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was suspected even then that Austria had similar designs against Serbia, and the animosity that had grown up between them, added to the fears and ambitions of the nations likely to be aligned on either side, furnished plenty of inflammable material to start a war. But the thought of a world war, impending, perhaps imminent, actually stunned one’s senses.
And yet, in reviewing the previous ten years it could be seen that events had distinctly and unmistakably pointed that way. Without entering into a discussion of the more remote causes of the war, perhaps all European nations that were involved must share a certain responsibility. But it is an outstanding fact that during the history of the preceding fifty years, with its background of age-old racial and religious prejudices, its maze of shifting alignments, diplomatic entanglements and conflicting national, ambitions, the attitude of United Germany had become more and more aggressive and dominating.
After the Franco-Prussian War Germany had emerged as the strongest military power of Europe and was the leader in the development of military science and tactics. During the decade prior to the World War the improvement and increase of her heavier artillery and the organization of machine gun units had gone forward rapidly. The very extensive expansion and use of these arms by the Japanese in Manchuria had not escaped the notice of German observers, and her experts were quick to take advantage of the lessons of that war. While these facts were commonly known in military circles, neither the extent of the growth of her land forces that had recently taken place nor the forecast that she would complete her military program about the year 1914{1} had made sufficient impression on her possible adversaries to cause serious alarm.
Then came the action of the German Government following the Sarajevo incident that suddenly forced the conclusion upon other peoples that the leaders of Germany intended to avail themselves of the opportunity to establish their country, if possible, as the dominant power of Europe. If there had been any doubt of this purpose, it was removed by the outcome of the many conferences with Austria, covering a period of nearly a month, which culminated in German support of the very arbitrary and humiliating demands on Serbia, even in the face of the latter’s conciliatory reply.
Although observing statesmen and military men, some vividly, others only vaguely, had sensed the situation as a menace of war, yet few seemed to appreciate that a resort to arms under the circumstances would involve practically the whole civilized world. Apparently none of the powers visualized what it would mean in its appalling destruction of human life, its devastation of countries, and in the suffering of populations. Even the men in the armies who lived through those terrible years got only a limited conception of it all. Looking backward, however, it now seems strange that the results of such a conflict could not have been generally foreseen.
As we now know, the German militarists held up to their people the fear of the Slav as one reason for going to war, and frightened the financial interests by pointing out the danger of losing national prestige and commercial advantage unless Slav ambitions were checked. The German people were led to believe that the army was invincible, and were no doubt flattered by the thought of the glory and the grandeur that success would bring to their country.
The German military machine itself was without doubt more nearly perfect and powerful than any that had ever before existed. Their Great General Staff had fully considered every condition necessary to military success, and even solemn treaty obligations were not to stand in the way. The hour for Germany to seize her opportunity had arrived. The details of what happened in the beginning are well known and the world has long since fixed the blame where it properly belongs—on the shoulders of the German Government of 1914.
The violation of Belgian neutrality afforded Germany the advantage of invading France from the most favorable quarter, yet it was no justification for her to claim that strategical considerations impelled her to take this action. In disregarding the Treaty of London of 1839 Germany presented the strongest kind of evidence of her war guilt. Moreover, this overt act served to give notice to all nations that Germany intended to brook no opposition in her purpose to conquer her ancient enemy once and for all. I cannot escape the conviction that in view of this defiance of neutral rights the United States made a grievous error in not immediately entering a vigorous protest.
The argument might be made that as our Government was not a signatory to the treaty its violation was none of our business. But one of the stronger members of the family of civilized nations, to which, broadly speaking, we all belong, had committed an outrage against a peaceful neutral neighbor simply because she stood in the way. The plea was advanced by the Germans that Belgium could have avoided trouble if she had not opposed the passage of their forces through her territory, but if she had failed to resist she would have forfeited the respect of the world, whereas by opposing she gained universal admiration.
The invasion of Belgium was in fact an open declaration of Germany’s attitude toward all neutral rights. If our people had grasped its meaning they would have at least insisted upon preparation to meet more effectively the later cumulative offenses of Germany against the law of nations, one of the most inhumane of which was the sinking of the Lusitania. Here was provocation enough for very positive action by any government alive to its obligations to protect its citizens. The fact is that the world knew only too well that we had for years neglected to make adequate preparations for defense, and Germany therefore dared to go considerably further than she would have gone if we had been even partially ready to support our demands by force.
It will be recalled that after some diplomatic correspondence the question of the use of submarines as it affected us rested until the sinking, without warning, of the Sussex, a Channel steamer carrying American passengers, on March 24, 1916. Germany was then notified that unless she should immediately declare and effect an abandonment of such methods of submarine warfare against passenger and freight-carrying vessels there would be no choice for us but to sever diplomatic relations with her. In reply, Germany made a definite promise to sink no more vessels without warning, although she made reservations as to the future.
Germany was informed that her reply was unsatisfactory, and there the question was again dropped, apparently without our seriously considering the action that we necessarily would be forced to take in the event of her resumption of ruthless methods. Little more than a gesture was made to get ready for eventualities; in fact, practically nothing was done in the way of increasing our military strength or of providing equipment.
As to our navy, however, Congress did appropriate more than $300,000,000 in August, 1916, for expansion, and some progress was made in beginning the construction of small craft and the establishment of a better administrative organization. This same Congress also passed an act{2} providing for the reorganization of our military forces, but scarcely a move was made to carry it out prior to our actual entrance into the war. Thus we presented the spectacle of the most powerful nation in the world sitting on the sidelines, almost idly watching the enactment of the greatest tragedy of all time, in which it might be compelled at any minute to take an important part.
It is almost inconceivable that there could have been such an apparent lack of foresight in administration circles regarding the probable necessity for an increase of our military forces and so little appreciation of the time and effort which would be required to prepare them for effective service. The inaction played into the hands of Germany, for she knew how long it would take us to put an army in the field, and governed her action accordingly. In other words, the date of resuming indiscriminate submarine warfare, February 1, 1917, was timed with the idea that the greater part of neutral and British shipping could be destroyed before we could be ready, should we by any chance enter the war.
Let us suppose that, instead of adhering to the erroneous theory that neutrality forbade any move toward preparation, we had taken the precaution in the spring of 1916 to organize and equip an army of half a million combatant troops, together with the requisite number of supply troops for such a force. This could have been done merely by increasing the Regular Army and National Guard to war strength. Such action would have given us the equivalent of forty average Allied divisions, ready to sail at once for France upon the declaration of war. Preparation to this extent could have been carried out by taking advantage of the concentration of the Regular Army and National Guard on the Mexican Border in 1916.
The actual situation on the Western Front when we entered the war was more favorable for the Allies than at any previous time. The strength of the German forces there had been greatly reduced because of the necessity for supporting the Russian front. Although reports were filtering in regarding the beginning of the revolution, there was little to indicate that Russia was not still a factor to be reckoned with. Actually the Allies had an advantage of something over 20 per cent in numbers, French morale was high, owing to their successful defense of Verdun, and the British armies had reached their maximum power.
Under these conditions, it is not extravagant to assert that the addition of 500,000 American combat troops in early spring would have given the Allies such a preponderance of force that the war could have been brought to a victorious conclusion before the end of that year. Even without such aid, the confidence of the Allies led them to undertake a general offensive in April. Although it ended in defeat, especially for the French, the f...