IN IT AT LAST The Administration decided to send an American expeditionary force to France as an advance guard of the huge army in process of preparation. Major General John J. Pershing was placed in command of this expedition, which was believed to embrace an army division, a force of the Marine Corps, and nine regiments of engineers. A veil of official secrecy (religiously respected by the press in pursuance of the voluntary censorship it imposed upon itself) was thrown over the dispatch of the preliminary force, and nothing further was heard of it until tidings came of the unheralded arrival of General Pershing in England on June 8, 1917, and of the appearance of a number of American warships off the French coast about the same time. This latter event proved to be the safe arrival of a convoyed naval collier, the Jupiter, which served as a harbinger of the fleet of transports conveying the American troops. It carried a cargo of army provisions, including over 10,000 tons of wheat. The arrival of the first division of transports at an unnamed French seaport was reported on June 26, 1917. They were signaled from the deserted quays of the town at 6 o'clock in the morning, and as they steamed toward port in a long line, according to an eloquent eyewitness, they appeared a "veritable armada," whose black hulls showed clearly against the horizon, while the gray outlines of their escorting destroyers were almost blotted out in the lead-colored sea. Dominating all was an enormous American cruiser with its peculiar upper basket works. The warships went to their allotted moorings with clockwork precision, while tugs took charge of the transports and towed them to their berths. Resounding cheers were exchanged between the troops which lined the rails of the incoming ships and the populace which lined the quays. The expedition was divided into contingents, each contingent including troopships and a naval escort designed to hold off any German raiders that might be sighted. An ocean rendezvous had also been arranged with the American destroyer flotilla under Admiral Sims, which had been operating in European waters since May 4, 1917, in order that the passage of the danger zone might be attended by every possible protection. Frequent indications pointing to the presence of submarines in the expedition's course were observed as the transports neared European waters. The passage through the infested zone was therefore made at high speed; the men were prepared for any emergency; boats and life belts were at hand for instant use; and watches at every lookout were heavily reenforced. These precautions were timely and more than warranted. The first contingent of transports was attacked twice by German U-boats. Admiral Gleaves, describing these incidents in reporting to Admiral Mayo, commander in chief of the Atlantic fleet, said the first attack was made at 10.15 p. m. on June 22. The location, formation, and names of the transports and the convoys, the speed they made, and the method of proceeding, were suppressed in the account made public by the Navy Department. It appeared that the destroyers' flagship, which led the transport fleet, was the first to encounter the submarine. At least the officer on deck and others on the bridge saw a white streak about fifty yards ahead of the ship, crossing from starboard to port at right angles to the ship's course. The ship was sharply turned 90 degrees to starboard at high speed, a general alarm was sounded, and torpedo crews were ordered to their guns. Another destroyer known as D was also the target of a torpedo which passed it from starboard to port across the bow about forty yards ahead of the ship, leaving a perceptible wake visible for about four or five hundred yards. The submarine sighted by the flagship immediately engaged the attention of destroyer B. In fact it darted under the latter and passed the flagship's bows, disappearing close aboard on the flagship's port bow between the destroyer columns. The B followed the wake between the columns and reported strong indications of two submarines astern, which grew fainter. The B afterward guarded the rear of the convoy. So much for the ghostly movements of the submarine or submarines which crossed the tracks of the first contingent of American transports on the night of June 22. In the absence of more tangible proof of their presence beyond that provided by white streaks and wakes on the sea surface, the incident might well have been a false alarm. It only occasioned much excitement and activity. But its interest lay in the alertness of the destroyers to danger. The officers on board the flotilla had no doubt at all that the danger was real. Admiral Gleaves, indeed, saw circumstantial evidence of the menace in alluding to a bulletin of the French General Staff which referred to the activities of a German submarine off the Azores. This U-boat, the bulletin said, was ordered to watch in the vicinity of those The second contingent of transports, which arrived in France a week later, had a similar experience, with the important difference that their encounters with submarines took place in broad daylight, and that the firing at one of them produced material traces of the enemy's proximity. Two submarines were met on the morning of June 26, 1917, one at 11.30, when the ships were about a hundred miles off the coast of France, the other an hour later. The destroyer H, which was leading, sighted the first U-boat, and the I pursued the wake, but without making any further discovery. The second episode was more convincing of the actual presence of a submarine. The destroyer J saw the bow wave of one at a distance of 1,500 yards and headed for it at a rapid speed. The pointers at the destroyer's gun sighted its periscope several times for several seconds; but it disappeared each time before they could get their aim, which the zigzagging of the ship impeded. Presently the J passed about twenty-five yards ahead of a mass of bubbles which obviously came from the submarine's wake. A deep charge was fired just ahead of these bubbles. Several pieces of timber, quantities of oil and dÉbris then came to the surface. Nothing more was seen of the submarine. There was plain evidence that it had been sunk. Two days later—on the morning of June 28, 1917, at 10 o'clock—the destroyer K opened fire at an object, about three hundred yards ahead, which appeared to indicate a submarine. Admiral Gleaves described it as a small object rising a foot or two high out of the water, and leaving a small wake. Through binoculars he made out a shape under the water, too large to be a blackfish, lying diagonally across the K's course. The port bow gun fired at the spot, and the ship veered to leave the submarine's location astern. Then the port aft gun crew reported sighting a submarine on the port quarter, and opened fire. The lookouts also reported seeing the submarine under the water's surface. The ship zigzagged and the firing continued. Not only was the submarine seen but the lieutenant in charge of the No submarine ambuscades awaited the third group of transports. Their voyage was quite uneventful. Apart from the probability that much of the commotion marking the passage of the first and second contingents might well have been due to groundless fears, the success of the American expedition in safely landing in France registered Germany's first defeat at the hands of the United States. It was her boast that her submarines would never permit any American army to reach its destination. General Pershing was in Paris when the first transport contingent arrived, and immediately set out for the French port to get in touch with his troops. They were debarking in long lines when he arrived, making their way to their temporary camp, which was situated on high ground outside the town. Their debarkation signalized the actual beginning of General Pershing's command in the European theater of war of an army in being, as yet small, but composed of seasoned troops from the Mexican border and marines from Haiti and Santo Domingo, all fit and ready for immediate trench service. He had been greeted in England as America's banner bearer, was immediately received by King George on his arrival in London, while Paris accorded him, as London did, the royal welcome which a sister democracy knows how to extend to the representative of a democracy bound to the Anglo-French Entente by the grimmest of ties. The landing of the vanguard of his army disposed of further hospitalities and brought him squarely to the business in hand, which was to get his troops in the fighting zone. A section of the French battle front for eventual occupancy by the American forces was early selected after General Pershing had inspected the ground under the guidance of the British and French military authorities. Its location, being a The marines—those handy men who apply themselves to every service in warfare, as to the manner born, whenever the occasion requires—cheerfully bent their ardent energies to spade work, which was probably a new task even for that many handed corps. Thereafter they wired themselves in their trenches behind barriers of barbed-metal entanglements. All this intensive work was performed under conditions approximating to actual warfare. Both offensive and defensive tactics were employed, including lively sham battles with grenades, bayonets, and trench mortars. For bayonet practice dummies were constructed and the men were taught the six most vital points of attack. The troops were entertained by stories telling how the French decorated and painted their dummies to resemble the kaiser, Von Hindenburg, and other enemy notables, and each company searched its ranks for artists who could paint similar effigies. Practice in trench warfare did not displace route marching. The hardening process in that direction continued as part of the operations. The men's packs increased in weight until they neared fifty pounds. Duly the men would be equipped with steel helmets and an extra kit, when their packs would weigh eighty pounds, like the burden carried by the British troops. Accordingly Little was disclosed regarding naval movements—beyond the activities of American destroyers, which were not only occupied in convoying transports and passenger liners through the submarine zone, but cooperated with British patrols in checking submarine destruction in other lanes of travel. The British recognized them as a formidable part of the grand Allied fleet. As to the navy itself, its personnel was increased to 150,000 men. Where the main American fleet was—whether with the British fleet at the Orkneys, or stationed in some other zone—no event transpired to give any clue. But patrol of the South Atlantic, as well as of the American coast, was assumed by the Pacific coast fleet under Admiral Caperton, the remaining French and British warships in those waters acting under his authority. Sea warfare conditions, outside the useful work of the American destroyers provided by the German submarines, gave little scope for naval operations, and it was assumed that the main American fleet, like the British, was lying quiescent, with its finger on the trigger, awaiting its opportunity. The Navy Department meantime busied itself arming scores of American merchant vessels to brave the submarines, and in carrying out an extensive building program, which included the construction of hundreds of submarine chasers—a new type of swift, powerfully armed small craft—as well as of many new destroyers.[Back to Contents] |