Chapter 6
CHAPTER VI. ANIMAL HEROES by Ernest Baines. WORK AND PLAY. Neither remount men nor veterinarians could be everywhere and serve all animals at all times. Much animal welfare depended on the attitude of the soldier toward his horse, and this, to the everlasting credit of American manhood, was universally fine. It was not
always intelligent, but lapses could generally be charged to ignorance of animals due to the changed conditions of living. In years now gone, every boy who could had his pony. He rode it and cared for it, and familiarity with horses with general. Association with his four-legged friend bred a love of animals in the heart of the youth. Today, the boy's wish is for a car, not a pony. His love of speed turns of him as old-time friend, and
in after years an affection for animals is hard to kindle into a steady flame. Many soldiers simply did not know how to care for their horses. Their picket lines were muddy, their animals unkempt, their harness stiff. They had not learned the art of putting weight on the brush when grooming animals, nor elbow grease into their work when oiling harness. They meant well and tried hard, but netted a poor result. After a time, men with horse
knowledge were assigned to each army corps and division to teach young American men the care of animals, and schools were established to inculate in willing minds the proper methods. While troops were actually engaged, these men did missionary work, and as soon as possible started instruction again. Thus, green troops were taught the art of taking advantage of cover, how to construct picket lines, how to groom animals, how to oil harness. Many
an affecting incident occurred to show that the soldier's heart was in the right place. One terrible night the officer of the day was making his rounds and heard strange sounds in the darkness beneath a tree. Turning his flashlight on the spot, he disclosed a soldier rubbing the belly of his mount. What's this for? the officer demanded.
Bill's sick, sir, replied the soldier. He's got a fierce bellyache and he thrashes all around when I ain't rubbing him. There's no bed in the outfit and the stable sergeant's sick. The night was cold and rainy, but the soldier had given up his blankets for his mount, having spread them over the animal's back. He was wet to the skin and numb with cold, but his
love for his horse carried him through the discomfort. His first and only thought was for the noble steed that carried him. A little later he wondered why it was that a sleeping veterinarian arrived from another outfit and gave Bill the dose of medicine needed to end his colic. The officer of the day had been given another opportunity to understand why American soldiers would not be denied when they went into action, and he added one humane
act to another by turning out a veterinarian to care for the suffering animal. Behind the lines in the Otgun, there was an engineer regiment, the men of which undertook to handle all the stallions which had returned to duty from the veterinary hospital. Those French horses presented a peculiar problem to American soldiers. They needed nursing along when first inducted into service, but if brought to hand properly, they were serviceable
enough and lasted a long time. These particular stallions had not had the time to go through the usual training period, but the engineers used them intelligently and inside of three weeks were giving them the hardest kind of work and the animals were getting fat on it. The secret lay in giving them light work at first and gradually getting them used to greater efforts. In the artillery, it was different. When a gun had to be moved, there was a certain
destination for it and it had to be there at a certain hour to open up on the enemy's lines. The animals sent in at the start could not be given sufficient rest on the way. Human lives precluded such a step and the horse, his praises unsung, went forward until he dropped. At Chateau Thierry at Saint-Mihiel and again in the Otgun, many horses remained in the traces from 48 to 72 hours in order that guns should be got into position. As
time wore on, conditions improved for all animals and in the final days of the drive, the only ones really to suffer were the gun horses. They yanked guns into position only to pull them out again a little later and again take up the chase of the flying enemy. A chase that seemed like that for the rainbow's end. Organization commanders who were horsemen showed their horsemanship in these moves. Animals under them received splendid care
and the men seemed to imbibe horse sense and knowledge. Drivers who had been schooled in their work were careful to dismount when halted on a hillside. They chalked the wheels to ease the strain on the tired horse's shoulders and while resting looked over the harness. Steel helmets played a part also. They were used to dip water from nearby streams and thirsty horses got a few swallows while waiting for the command forward. Other drivers would
be filling their tin derbies from a grain sack on the caisson and holding them up to give the horses a quick lunch. If time allowed, a little hay would be added to the short ration. These little attentions helped the efficiency and comfort of the animals and they came from the hearts of the men. They would rather serve their beasts than be idle. Battery commanders were instructed to carry a bale of hay and a sack of grain on each caisson. With this
forage on hand when the guns pulled into position, it was possible for all animals to be fed properly until the arrival of trains with food, forage, and ammunition. After the armistice was signed, plans were carried into effect whereby the men gained further knowledge of horse and mule. Horsemanship schools were started in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd armies under Colonel Henry R. Richmond who had gained an enviable reputation throughout the army while on duty as senior instructor at
Fort Riley, Kansas. He took as assistants the best horsemen in the regular service as well as the best of those who came in to offer their all to their country during the emergency. In the 3rd army, where Major General Joseph E. Dickman held sway, interest was aroused among all officers and men by doing everything possible to make better horsemen. These classes and equitation had the desired effect. In several divisions other than those of the 3rd army,
horse shows were held and deep interest was shown in all of them. Events ran from water carts drawn by one horse to six-line teams and jumping contests. The condition of the animals and their appearance as well as the appearance of equipment and driver were taken into consideration. There was one great drawback to the success of the saddle events and that was the paucity of good cavalry horses. There were but few in the American Expeditionary Force. When animals were rushed over
from the United States, recommendations were made that a certain percentage of them should be cavalry horses. But it was believed at the time that there would be no real call for cavalry mounts in France. While there was no urgent call for these lighter animals during the months of the heaviest fighting, yet as soon as the armies went into more or less permanent quarters, the commanding generals turned their attention to the drill and education of troops along
lines laid down in peacetimes. The first cry raised by the officers was for horses. Horses were needed for equitation, for polo, for demonstration purposes, and above all, for something that would be of deep and unflagging interest to the two million men of the American Expeditionary Force whose eyes were turning westward where the home fires burned bright for their return. All could not go at once and something had to be done to keep the spirits of the men at a
high level. There was but one answer. Horses. Horses were secured from all sections of the American forces and the best of them were placed where they would do the most good. The plan worked to success and Uncle Sal's nephews will be all the better horsemen for having had to wait a few months for the boat with just one destination. Home. But it is easy to lay too much stress on the play that follows work and not enough upon the rudiments. Homes. A
dusky member of the stevedore regiment assigned along with his company to clean up the corrals in the remount depot at the base port expressed the desire of most of the men in France. He was found one morning using his pitchfork with one hand. Better get a move on, nigger. A co-laborer cautioned him. I seized a cap and coming and he ain't walking slow neither.
I always use a pitchfork in one hand to explain the other. How come? I learnt real early. Pitchfork in one hand and lesson bottle in the other. About that time the captain arrived, post haste, having been tipped off that the commanding general was on his way to inspect the post. Step lively, men, he said. Let's get this place looking like something. The one-handed worker spoke as he hurried by. Captain, sir. I wailed this morning.
Smatter, the officer snapped. I'm kinder droopy. Sick? No, sir, not sick, just droopy. I ain't had no letter from my fiancé for some time and I don't know if some D.D. draft dodger has tucked my gal away from me or if deficient to see him reading my mail. In other words, you want to go back to the States? Yes, captain, sir. A tick at one way, boss, kindly. Events grave at the time often take on an element of humor when viewed in retrospect.
One cannot but smile, for instance, when one reads that at the Battle of Tenga in German East Africa the enemy cunningly hid wires and canes among the grasses and bushes through which the British were advancing. These, when trodden upon, lifted the lid from high of the wild bees, which poured out and caused terrible distress to the British troops. The great importance of animals was fully recognized by our enemies and every available animal from the largest to the
smallest was used. An elephant from Hagenbeck's Zoological Gardens in Hamburg was employed in military construction work in Breslau. Even that irresponsible quacker, the duck, was pressed into German service, his cousin, the goose, having long since served as model for Fritzi on the march. It appears that the Americans were ordered to take part of their transport along a certain road. All went well until they reached a certain pond. Then the ducks, which had presumably been sleeping,
remonstrated and the Germans promptly opened fire on the spot from which the quacks proceeded. One teamster, who had been sent up with a load of shells, beat a retreat when the disturbance began. On his return, his officers inquired, couldn't get through? No. Well, how far did you get? And the soldier replied with more feeling than respect, my god, as far as those damn ducks. End of section six.
