Best known as the “Man with the Donkey,” John Simpson Kirkpatrick was one of many larger than life figures who landed with the ANZACs during the Gallipoli Campaign. Serving with the 3rd Australian Field Ambulance, he and his donkeys aided their comrades during the offensive, becoming almost-legendary figures by the time the First World War came to an end.
John Simpson Kirkpatrick’s early life
For years, the man in this image was incorrectly identified as Pvt. John Simpson Kirkpatrick. In actuality, he’s Lt. Richard Alexander Henderson of the New Zealand Medical Corps. (Photo Credit: Sergeant James G. Jackson / Australian War Memorial / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
John Simpson Kirkpatrick was born on July 6, 1892 in County Durham, England. He began working with donkeys as a youngster on his summer holidays, a skill that would place him in good stead in the years to come.
When he turned 16, Kirkpatrick volunteered as a gunner for the Territorial Force, before joining the British Merchant Navy in 1909. When his ship was docked in New South Wales, Australia in May 1910, he deserted his crew and took odd jobs around the country.
After the First World War broke out in 1914, Simpson enlisted in the Australian Army, in part to return to England. On his forms, he declared himself to be “John Simpson,” likely dropping “Kirkpatrick” to make it difficult for officials to identify that he’d deserted his ship years prior.
3rd Australian Field Ambulance
Australian 3rd Field Ambulance, with Pvt. John Simpson Kirkpatrick standing third from the left, October 1914. (Photo Credit: Unknown Author / Australian War Memorial / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
John Simpson Kirkpatrick enlisted as a field ambulance stretcher bearer in Perth on August 23, 1914, after which he began training at Blackboy Hill Training Camp. Following this, he was assigned to the 3rd Australian Field Ambulance, regimental number 202, with whom he served for the entirety of his time overseas.
The group were sent to take part in the Gallipoli Campaign, which, at the time, was already well underway, landing at ANZAC Cove on April 25, 1915 as part of the 1st Australian Division. It didn’t take long for Kirkpatrick to get into the swing of things, carrying injured soldiers from the frontlines to receive medical attention.
It was on April 26 that he made the decision that would become the source of his fame: using a donkey to transport the wounded servicemen, instead of carrying them on a stretcher or over his shoulders. Kirkpatrick and his donkey became a common sight on the frontlines; he sang and whistled while the pair walked along the battlefield.
Duffy the donkey
Pvt. John Simpson Kirkpatrick with Duffy the donkey during the Gallipoli Campaign, 1915. (Photo Credit: J.A. O’Brien / Australian War Memorial / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
Although Duffy is perhaps the best known of John Simpson Kirkpatrick’s donkeys, sources indicate he likely had multiple – or, at the very least, different nicknames for the same one: Duffy No. 1, Duffy No. 2, Murphy, Abdul and Queen Elizabeth.
It wasn’t long before some of the other stretcher bearers began using donkeys alongside Kirkpatrick, as it made it easier to move the injured over the terrain and away from the frontlines. His actions were highly praised by Gen. John Monash, who said:
“Private Simpson and his little beast earned the admiration of everyone at the upper end of the valley. They worked all day and night throughout the whole period since the landing, and the help rendered to the wounded was invaluable.
“Simpson knew no fear and moved unconcernedly amid shrapnel and rifle fire, steadily carrying out his self-imposed task day by day, and he frequently earned the applause of the personnel for his many fearless rescues of wounded men from areas subject to rifle and shrapnel fire.”
John Simpson Kirkpatrick is killed in action
Pvt. John Simpson Kirkpatrick’s headstone. (Photo Credit: Gsl / Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 3.0)
Sadly, John Simpson Kirkpatrick’s dedication to the wounded was short-lived, as he was killed in action (KIA) during the Third Attack on ANZAC Cove on May 19, 1915. He was only 22 years old.
Sources indicate Kirkpatrick was struck by a machine gun bullet that traveled through his heart. He’d been attempting to bring soldiers back from the front. Reports also state that the donkey he had with him that day was spared from the same gunfire, with his comrades continuing to look after the animal.
The commanding officer of the 21st Kohat Indian Mountain Battery wrote, “[Simpson] had many donkeys and men killed beside him but led a charmed life till 19th May. We treasured his last donkey and evacuated it safely at the end with a view to presenting it to Australia but it was stolen from our mule lines in Mudros.”
Other sources say that one of Kirkpatrick’s donkeys was passed along to Lt. Richard Alexander Henderson of the New Zealand Medical Corps, a man often confused as Simpson in images from the Gallipoli Campaign.
Remembering John Simpson Kirkpatrick
Statue dedicated to John Kirkpatrick Simpson and Duffy the donkey at the Shrine of Remembrance in Melbourne, Australia. (Photo Credit: Gsl / Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 3.0)
Although he only served for just over three weeks, John Kirkpatrick Simpson became an almost mythical figure in the years that followed his death. He is credited with saving 300 men over his 24 days of service. Many were said to have been seriously wounded, yet it has been pointed out that only those with more minor wounds would have been able to travel on Simpson’s donkey.
Those with injuries to the head or chest couldn’t have ridden down a valley, even with the assistance of the handler. Nonetheless the stories persist, and numerous memorials to the “Man with the Donkey” still exist. He has even been portrayed in films, television shows and on postage stamps.
Despite his efforts, Kirkpatrick never received the Victoria Cross he was nominated for, due to a clerical error, one which has never been remedied.
Five hundred years before the start of World War I, the Teutonic Knights were gravely defeated by Slavic and Lithuanian forces at the Battle of Tannenberg (otherwise known as Grunwald). In 1914, the Germans practically slaughtered the entire Russian Second Army over the course of just four days, just miles away from the site of the 1410 battle. Given this, German officials couldn’t help but name the site their historic win, “Tannenberg.”
Early days of World War I
Belgian artillery captured by the Germans during the Battle of Liège, 1914. (Photo Credit: Underwood Archives / Getty Images)
Germany entered the Great War following the Schlieffen Plan, influenced by Field Marshal Alfred von Schlieffen and his vision of a sweeping German invasion of France and Belgium. The plan was to gather the country’s allies, before moving toward France via the Netherlands, where they would defeat the French Third Republic. At the same time, a limited German contingent would travel toward Russia to fend off potential attacks, until the triumphant soldiers arrived to bolster their numbers.
The entire strength of the German Army in 1914 totaled 1,191 battalions, the majority of which were deployed to France while the Eighth Army of East Prussia, comprised of just 10 percent of Germany’s entire military, set their sights on Russia.
Meanwhile, France organized a speedy mobilization of its forces, followed by an immediate attack to drive back the encroaching Germans. Buying time for the British and Russians to establish their defenses, neutral Belgium was defeated after two weeks of intense fighting during the Battle of Liège – the first official battle of WWI.
Waiting for the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) and their Russian allies to join them, France knew it would take time for Russia to mobilize. The country’s limited railway network – 75 percent of Russian railways were still single-tracked – meant it took 60 days before enough divisions were in action.
Battle of Gumbinnen
Eighth Army staff, 1914. (Photo Credit: Hogo Vogel / Sammelbild der Immalin-Werke / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
The Eighth Army was by far the most inexperienced company in the Imperial German military. It was comprised of reservists and garrison troops, and led by Generaloberst Maximilian von Prittwitz, who was surprised to find the Russians had mobilized much faster than he’d anticipated.
The Eighth soon learned the Russians had beaten them at their own game, sending two armies to attack East Prussia. Germany subsequently ordered von Prittwitz to attack the Russian 1st Army Corps during the Battle of Gumbinnen on August 20, 1914. Both sides sustained heavy losses, and with a second Russian force heading toward them, von Prittwitz wanted to retreat – but German officials knew standing down wasn’t an option.
von Prittwitz was replaced by two legendary military leaders: General der Infanterie Erich Ludendorff and Paul von Hindenberg, a famed field marshal who’d lead the Imperial German Army throughout the remainder of the war along the Eastern Front. Now under new leadership, the Eighth Army went into battle against the unprepared Russians with every advantage they could muster.
Was Russia doomed from the start?
German soldiers fighting the Russian Army during the Battle of Tannenberg, 1914. (Photo Credit: Hulton Archive / Getty Images)
The lead-up to the Battle of Tannenberg likely sealed Russia’s fate before the fighting even began. The Russian Army, with little experience, made a massive mistake when it came to its radio communications. Orders were being transmitted to personnel on open radio frequencies, and even though they were encoded, the Germans easily intercepted the messages and used them to their advantage.
According to the National Security Agency (NSA), the Battle of Tannenberg was the first in human history in which the interception of enemy radio traffic played a decisive role.
One message revealed that the 1st Army Corps wasn’t pursuing the Eighth Army after all – they were, instead, turning north toward Königsberg, Prussia with the 2nd Army following close behind. The two were separated by the 50-mile chain of the Masurian Lake District, slowing their advance toward Königsberg.
Using the intercepted radio messages, Ludendorff, a military theorist, came up with a strategy to attack the 2nd Army south of the Masurian Lakes. The 2nd’s commander, General of the Cavalry Alexander Samsonov, was already hindered by a slow supply chain, poor communication and the difficulty of navigating a large force with heavy artillery through the are’s impossible terrain. Soon, he and his men found themselves completely surrounded by the Germans.
“Imagine this Russian army as a bulge pressing into Germany and the Germans strike at a point where the bulge begins and cut off the vast majority of the Russian forces in the middle,” explains military historian, Jay Lockenour. “Because of communication problems, the Russian commanders didn’t know that a major attack on their flank was underway until half a day too late.”
Samsonov’s men were spread out over a 60-mile stretch, with the center, right and left wings separated – practically inviting the Germans to attack both wings. Meanwhile, the 1st Army Corps, led by General of the Cavalry Paul von Rennenkampf, was in no rush to come to the 2nd’s aid. Instead, a lapse in communication failed to urge him to pick up the pace and change his focus from Königsberg to the Masurian Lakes.
On August 26, 1914, Ludendorff ordered General der Infanterie Hermann von François and his I Corps to attack and break through the Russians’ left wing.
Who won the Battle of Tannenberg?
Russian prisoners of war (POWs) being led to Berlin following the Battle of Tannenberg, 1914. (Photo Credit: Paul Thompson / FPG / Getty Images)
The height of the Battle of Tannenberg occurred on August 27, with the German heavy fire focused on the left wing. Soon, Russian troops began to flee across the frontier, toward Neidenburg, and von François ordered his men to hold the road from there to Willenberg.
They formed a barricade across the line of retreat as Russian soldiers flowed in and out of the nearby woods. The Germans secured the rear group, who were exhausted from lack of rest and food. The hungry and exhausted men accepted their defeat, surrendering to the Germans in the tens of thousands.
Even Samsonov found himself wrapped up in the flurry of retreating men. Unable to stop the madness, he turned around and rode south, only to get lost in the dense forest. His absence had gone unnoticed until the early hours of August 30, when a lone shot rang out from the woods. Rather than admit to his failure, Samsonov shot himself with his officer’s pistol.
Even though the German contingent of 150,000 men was outnumbered by the Russians, who had 230,000, they still managed to nearly eradicate the entire 2nd Army. When all was said and done, only 10,000 returned to Russia. Between 30,000-78,000 were killed or wounded in the battle, while another 92,000 were taken as prisoners of war (POWs).
Battles continued between the Germans and the Russian 1st Army Corps, who were also defeated and mostly destroyed. After the resounding success of the campaign, German Kaiser Wilhelm II named the battle after Tannenberg, a nod to the 1410 engagement that eviscerated German knights.
The term “Tommies” is most closely associated with British soldiers who served during the First World War. However, where and how did the nickname originate? It’s a topic of debate among historians, who also question whether a serviceman named Tommy Atkins ever really existed.
Paying respects to British war veterans
British soldiers on their way to the front, October 1939. (Photo Credit: Fox Photos / Getty Images)
“Tommy” is slang for a soldier who served in the British Army. While the term’s origins are disputed, it was often associated with 19th-century soldiers and those who served in World War I. It’s during the latter period that the name saw its most frequent use. Over time, however, it’s fallen out of the common vernacular, and is now used as a way to show admiration and respect for those who fought in the Great War.
Legend states that, in the trenches, enemy troops would call out for Tommy across No Man’s Land, looking to speak with a British soldier.
The nickname also cycled through pop culture in a poem by Rudyard Kipling, as part of his book, Barrack-Room Ballads. In the poem, aptly titled Tommy, Kipling brought to the public’s attention the treatment of veterans in and out of wartime, and showed them how starkly different that treatment could be.
Tommy Atkins
British soldiers having a scratch meal during the Second Boer War, 1901. (Photo Credit: Topical Press Agency / Getty Images)
The debate as to why and when British soldiers began being called “Tommy” has been ongoing. The Imperial War Museums found what seems to be the oldest written record of the name Tommy Atkins, in a letter dating back to 1743.
At the time, Jamaica was under British rule, and the red coats worn by the British had already earned them another nickname, “Thomas Lobsters.” The letter calling the soldiers “Tommy Atkins” was sent to the British War Office, to report a mutiny among mercenaries.
It read, “Except for those from N. America (mostly Irish papists) ye Marines and Tommy Atkins behaved splendidly.”
Did Thomas Atkins fight during the Flanders Campaign?
Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. (Photo Credit: Universal History Archive / Getty Images)
One of the more popular theories behind how Tommies got their nickname comes from Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. Wellesley wouldn’t coin the nickname for British soldiers until later in life, but one serviceman, in particular, stuck with him long enough to inspire the term when the time came.
In 1794, Wellesley commanded the 33rd Regiment of Foot in the bloody hand-to-hand combat of the Battle of Boxtel. Following the fierce engagement, he walked through the battlefield and noticed the best man at arms, Pvt. Thomas Atkins, laying horribly wounded. When he approached, the soldier looked up at Wellesley and said, “It’s all right, sir, all in a day’s work.”
He died shortly after.
This apparently resonated with Wellesley. He mentioned the soldier’s name in 1843, when he supposedly suggested it become the moniker for a brave British serviceman.
Tommies littered the pages of infantry paperwork
British soldiers around a destroyed cottage, 1918. (Photo Credit: National Library of Scotland / Wikimedia Commons / No Known Copyright Restrictions)
A theory that seems to disprove the one credited to Wellesley dates back to 1815. At that time, the British War Office was in search of a name that could function as both a generic term and placeholder on sample infantry paperwork. After some deliberation, “Tommy Atkins” was chosen.
When a recruit was unable to sign his name to his enlistment papers, he’d mark the page and have “Tommy Atkins” take the place of his own. To show how to properly fill out the form, the name was printed in every sample service detail of the Soldiers Account Book.
This theory has become the most widely-accepted among scholars as to how British soldiers came to be called Tommies.
Another ‘Tommy Atkins’ was famed for his bravery
British soldier with the 51st Division during the German offensive in Lys, April 1918. (Photo Credit: John Warwick Brooke / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
Whether or not their real names were Tommy Atkins, there were quite a few throughout history who earned notoriety for their bravery. One such case was a soldier involved in the Indian Rebellion of 1857.
The alleged Tommy Atkins was serving with the 32nd Regiment of Foot when the mutiny broke out. Committed to serving his country, he remained at his post, despite pleas from his comrades to accompany them in their retreat to the British Residency. He subsequently became overwhelmed by the attacking force and was killed.
This account wasn’t recorded until 1900, when British Army chaplain Rev. E.J. Hardy wrote about the rebellion. He explained that, “His name happened to be Tommy Atkins and so, throughout the Mutiny Campaign, when a daring deed was done, the doer was said to be ‘a regular Tommy Atkins.”
The time of Tommies has come to an end
World War I veteran Harry Patch, October 2007. (Photo Credit: Matt Cardy / Getty Images)
As popular as Tommies were, the nickname has largely fallen out of use. Harry Patch became known as the “Last Tommy,” as he was the final surviving British trench combat soldier to have fought in WWI. He lived to the age of 111, and died in 2009. Now, only the private soldiers of British Army’s Parachute Regiment have a nickname that resembles the moniker: “Toms.”
The term has since found its way into other parts of the British Army. The Tommy Cooker was a portable, alcohol-fueled stove issued to British troops throughout the Great War. It was praised for its fuel source, which produced no visible smoke. However, it had a reputation for being unable to effectively heat food or water.
The term “Tommy Cooker” was even passed along, becoming a derogatory word used by German tankers for the American-built M4 Sherman, which was also operated by the British. The tank was problematic in that it often exploded into flames the moment it was hit by shells. Poor stowage was at fault, with ammunition being thrown on the floor for quick access.
Even the British troops adopted the mockery, nicknaming the M4 Shermans “Ronsons,” after the cigarette lighter company of the same name, whose slogan was “light first time – every time!”
On April 9, 1918, Aníbal Augusto Milhais and his comrades with the 2nd Infantry Division of the Portuguese Expeditionary Corps were embroiled in the intense Battle of the Lys. The bombs and artillery were unrelenting as Milhais lay in the second trench of the Allied line. He was shocked by what happened next, and the events that followed changed his life forever, proving just how fearless he was and making him Portugal’s greatest war hero.
Portugal’s unexpected role in the First World War
Portuguese soldiers departing for battle, 1916. (Photo Credit: Universal History Archive / Universal Images Group / Getty Images)
Not much is known about Aníbal Augusto Milhais’ early life, other than he was born on July 9, 1885 in northern Portugal. He was drafted into the Infantry of Bragança in the summer of 1915, and two years later deployed to France with the Trás os Montes Brigade, part of the 2nd Infantry Division of the Portuguese Expeditionary Corps.
Portugal’s role in World War I was different from other Allied forces. The country had initially remained neutral, but hostilities arose between it and Germany, due to U-boat activity in the Atlantic Ocean and Portugal’s wish to comply with British requests for aid. Things came to a head when Portugal seized German vessels at the country’s ports, leading Germany to declare war on March 9, 1916.
Portuguese soldiers, fighting alongside the British in Flanders and northern France, were sent to infiltrate enemy territory and raid trenches – an extremely deadly mission. Troops were also sent to East Africa, in an attempt to protect Portuguese colonies.
An unexpected attack by the Germans
Portuguese soldiers during the Battle of the Lys, 1918. (Photo Credit: João Carvalho / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
In the months leading up to the Battle of the Lys, the 2nd Infantry Division was worn down by constant German bombardments and raids, contributing to casualties and extreme fatigue. The battle began on April 7, 1918, but everything came to a head in the early hours of April 9.
Aníbal Augusto Milhais settled in a dugout in the second trench along the Allied front, and he stayed low as the bombs and shells continued to pummel the area around him. Eventually, the heavy shelling subsided to nothing more than the sound of thunder in the distance – but Milhais knew there wasn’t a storm rolling in. He looked out from behind the trench, trying to see past the thick fog that settled over No Man’s Land.
All of the sudden, more explosions rained down just feet from the first trench. Milhais watched as his fellow soldiers dove into the front trench, wondering how so many men were retreating from behind enemy lines. Shots were fired inside the trench, and soon Milhais and the others in the second realized the approaching men weren’t Portuguese – they were Germans.
As more enemy troops crossed No Man’s Land, Milhais aimed his Lewis gun at the men in the second trench, who began to retreat to a supply one. Meanwhile, a group led by the infamous stormtroopers took the first trench and started toward the second through a network of smaller communication trenches.
Aníbal Augusto Milhais fought off a German advance on his own
Trench warfare during World War I. (Photo Credit: Bettmann / Getty Images)
As gunfire rang out, Aníbal Augusto Milhais ran through the trench system and leaped across a large hole to get to a road on the other side. Ducking behind a dirt wall, he found several soldiers hiding from the Germans, many of them without guns to defend themselves.
Enemy troops, armed with guns and bayonets, approached the group, and Milhais told the others to run to safety while he covered their retreat. His Lewis gun was superior to the German rifles and quickly decimated the approaching men, single-handedly stopping the German advance for a time.
As the Allies retreated, Milhais moved from side-to-side, firing from different positions and keeping the enemy soldiers stuck in the various holes and craters in which they were hiding. His movements made it appear to the Germans as though multiple gunmen were firing at them; the Portuguese soldier worked as quickly and efficiently as three gunners while fending off an entire force all on his own.
Aníbal Augusto Milhais found himself alone behind enemy lines
Destroyed tank on a devastated street corner in Belgium during the First World War. (Photo Credit: US Army / Interim Archives / Getty Images)
Aníbal Augusto Milhais ran out of ammunition and started moving beyond the trenches in search of escape. Eventually, he found an abandoned piece of canvas draped on the ground next to a dead horse. He covered himself with it before the enemy stormed past him in search of the retreating Portuguese.
After hours spent hiding, Milhais emerged and found himself totally alone behind enemy lines. He dashed across the open field and into the cover of a nearby forest, making his way back toward Allied lines. While traveling, he found an unharmed Scottish major stuck in a swamp. Milhais rescued him, and the two men continued back to the frontlines together.
Three days after the battle began, the two finally made it back to their units.
The soldier ‘worth a million men’
Aníbal Augusto Milhais (center) with his fellow Portuguese soldiers. (Photo Credit: Unknown Author / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
Throughout the remainder of the First World War, Aníbal Augusto Milhais continued to fight with honor and distinction, at one point laying down suppressive fire to allow a Belgian unit to make it to a secondary trench without any casualties. For his actions, he was awarded Portugal’s highest military distinction, the Order of the Tower and of the Sword, of Valour, Loyalty and Merit, as well as the French Légion d’Honneur, presented to him on the battlefield in front of 15,000 Allied soldiers.
He was even affectionately known as the soldier “worth a million men.”
Milhais returned to his home village a hero, married and had nine children. The family eventually fell on hard times, and when he asked the government for support, he wasn’t given monetary aid. Instead, his village was renamed for him. After traveling to Brazil in search of a better life and receiving support from those living there, he returned to Portugal, where he remained until his death in 1970.
Since the First World War, every conflict has been well-documented. There are millions of photos showing soldiers, aircraft, tanks and battlefields, and behind them are the humans tasked with fighting. Every combatant and civilian alike is someone who has friends, a family and a story. The following photos show those behind conflict – their pain, their joy, their humanity – and provide a look into the human side of war.
Toboggan time
Photo Credit: Keystone / Getty Images
The Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) was the female branch of the British Army during the Second World War. They took on a number of different roles, including serving on the frontlines in various capacities. This photo, captured in January 1942, shows two members taking a quick break from their work to enjoy tobogganing in the snow at one of the London’s gun sites.
Comforting a comrade
Photo Credit: Sergeant First Class Al Chang / US Army / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
This photo was taken on August 28, 1950, during the Korean War. In the Haktong-ni area, an American soldier is comforted by another while grieving the death of his friend, who was killed in action (KIA). The man holding him has since been identified as Tolbert Raymond Winchester.
The scene is made all the more heartbreaking by the corpsman in the background, who’s filling out casualty tags. This is a human side of war most don’t picture (or see) when they think of armed conflict.
She said ‘yes’
Photo Credit: Bettmann / Getty Images
This photo of Marine Pfc. Patrick J. Carr was taken just four days before the end of the Battle of Okinawa, one of the largest altercations in the Pacific Theater during the Second World War. Carr was stationed there when he received a letter from his sweetheart, Stella Norek, who agreed to marry him.
Her portrait was placed inside his helmet while he jubilantly read over her words.
A father saying goodbye to his son
Photo Credit: USMC Archives / US Marine Corps / Flickr CC BY 2.0
Pfc. Mike Fenton was also stationed on Okinawa during the Second World War. However, the conflict didn’t end happily for him. This photo was taken at his burial in May 1945, after he was killed in a Japanese counterattack on the road to Shuri. Alongside the officers and friends who stand vigil is his father, Marine Col. Francis I. Fenton, who prays at the foot of his son’s grave.
It’s one thing to know death occurs during war, but it’s another to see the raw, human emotion that comes from the other side – those who were lucky enough to survive.
The Battle of the Somme during the First World War was one of the bloodiest battles in human history. The British lost 420,000 men, while Germany lost 450,000.
You wouldn’t know just how bad things were by looking at this photo, taken in 1916. This soldier smiles broadly as he collects the recently-arrived postal delivery for his battery, located near Aveluy. Letters from home played a major role in troop morale during the war.
Miss. Hap
Photo Credit: Sergeant Martin Riley / Getty Images
Somehow, this small kitten managed to survive a heavy mortar barrage near Bunker Hill, once the site of a major Korean War engagement in 1952. Marine Sgt. Frank Praytor found the two-week-old animal in 1953, after her mother had been killed.
This photo was taken while Praytor fed her canned milk out of a medicine dropper. He ultimately decided to adopt the kitten. He named her Miss. Hap because “she was born at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Wise cracks
Photo Credit: Mirrorpix / Getty Images
Away from the frontlines and the horrors of war, a group of very happy soldiers chat with female war workers in August 1943. Both groups are on vacation at the War Workers Holiday Camp at Cookham, Berkshire, United Kingdom.
Child soldier
15-year-old Hans-Georg Henke cries tears of defeat after being captured by the US Ninth Army in Germany, April 1945. (Photo Credit: John Florea / Keystone / Getty Images)
This photo of Hans-Georg Henke is arguably one of the most famous photos of the Second World War and shows the human side of being captured by the enemy.
When it was taken in April 3, 1945, he was only 15 years old and had just been captured in Germany. His own account states he’d been captured by the Red Army and was crying because the life he knew was falling apart. The photographer insists, however, that he was actually a prisoner of the US Ninth Army and his emotions were the result of combat shock.
Here comes Santa Claus
Photo Credit: Royal Air Force Official Photographer N.S. Clark / Imperial War Museums / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
Taken on December 13, 1944, this photo captures Leading Aircraftman Fred Fazan dressed as Santa Claus, delivering presents to Dutch children at Volkel Air Base. The Royal Air Force (RAF) No. 122 Wing, who operated their Hawker Typhoons and Tempests out of this location in 1944, saved their candy rations and money to put on a Christmas party for the children.
According to photographer N.S. Clark, Santa was afraid of Messerschmitts, so chose to arrive via Tempest.
British troops were sent to Egypt during the Suez Crisis. After the United States and UK decided not to help pay for the Aswan High Dam, Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser declared martial law in the area around the Suez Canal, prompting the UK, Israel and France to intervene.
This group – Peter Gallagher, John Dean, Jim Read, Jack Allen, Jim Highton, Manuel Armario and Reg Bomson – can be seen here decorating their Christmas tree while stationed in the country.
Worldly possessions
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At the beginning of the First World War, Germany invaded Antwerp. Within a few weeks, the Belgian forces withdrew from the city. This photo shows a woman sitting along the side of the road, beside a small table, some kitchen pots and a statue – all her worldly treasures. The image is dated 1914, meaning it’s likely she lost her home during the invasion.
Boys will be boys
Photo Credit: Topical Press Agency / Getty Images
Even war can’t stop boys from getting up to shenanigans.
This photo was taken of South African soldiers stationed in Bexhill-on-Sea, United Kingdom in October 1915. While their fellow troops watch on, a group of them can be seen playing what one can only assume is “get on your friend’s back and whack another team with a broom” – or, better yet, “whack them until they fall off.”
Nothing remains
Photo: Tony Vaccaro / Getty Images
Taken by renowned World War II photographer Tony Vaccaro, this image captures the return of a German soldier to Frankfurt in March 1947. He was taken as a prisoner of war (POW) by the US during the war and released after it came to an end.
When the man arrived home, excited to see his family, he discovered his house had been reduced to rubble, and that his wife and children were all dead. In Vaccaro’s own words, “He gave up […] That’s why I call this the defeated soldier.”
Team building
Photo Credit: Museo Centrale del Risorgimento / Mondadori / Getty Images
For those who think team building exercises are an invention of the modern workplace, think again. This photo of soldiers with the Italian Army was taken in 1917, as they engaged in some form of team building game. The original caption indicates they’re men of the “Emilia Brigade,” the 119th and 120th Infantry Regiment.
Helping hand(s)
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The identities of those in this photo, their nationalities and their location remain a complete mystery. What is known, however, is that the image was taken in 1940. However, these questions add to the humanity of the moment – completely spontaneous on the part of the woman, soldier and photographer.
With the help of his unit holding him in the truckbed, this soldier gets a goodbye kiss before leaving for… Somewhere.
Contemplation
Photo Credit: Bettmann / Getty Images
Taken on January 8, 1966, this photo shows an American soldier following Operation Marauder, a join engagement of the US 173rd Airborne Brigade, the 1st Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment and the 161 Bty of the Royal New Zealand Artillery during the Vietnam War.
Exhausted from the intense fighting, the serviceman simply sits with his head in his hands and stares into space, contemplating what just happened.
Proper motivation
Photo Credit: Fox Photos / Getty Images
Men with the British Army undergoing overseas training in Hertfordshire, UK on August 6, 1939.
It’s unclear just how effective this activity was, although it certainly brought smiles and laughter to the men. Their sergeant took to carrying a large plank, which he used to smack them – in good spirit – to help them jump and stay warm.
The origin of mine warfare dates back all the way to the mid-19th century, during the American Civil War. In December 1861, Confederate officer Maj. Gen. Leonidas K. Polk oversaw several men as they loaded explosives into iron containers and buried them along two routes leading into Columbus, Ohio.
Luckily, the Union soldiers discovered the cache of explosives and dismantled them before they were detonated, but Polk and others had become infatuated with the idea of using mines to sway the outcome of the conflict in their favor. Half a century later, landmines took on a whole new level of lethality during the First World War and, in particular, the Battle of Messines.
Planting Allied landmines along Messines Ridge
Sappers and miners digging under Hill 60, south of Ypres, Belgium. (Photo Credit: The Print Collector / Getty Images)
The area of Ypres, Belgium saw some of the most prolific battles of the First World War. and it’s where mining really took shape. The Germans first captured Messines Ridge in 1914, which afforded them a high-point to clearly observe Allied movements. After suffering heavy casualties, the Allies began mining against German-held areas in West Flanders. Explosives were placed 15-20 feet below the surface, beneath the enemy territory.
By the fall of 1915, British Expeditionary Force (BEF) Engineer-in-Chief Brig. George Fowke suggested they build galleries – a series of underground tunnels – 60-90 feet below the ground. He proposed they be dug underneath the German transportation routes in Ploegsteert–Messine, Vierstraat-Wytschaete and Kemmel-Wytschaete. Two tunnels were also dug between the Douve and Ploegsteert.
The galleries were supposed to be over 1,000 yards long, but the longest wound up being only 720 yards in length. The men charged with digging them served as part of “tunneling companies” – soldiers recruited for their excavation skills – and faced harsh conditions, including struggles with groundwater and other geological setbacks.
After months of digging, the BEF’s tunnel system was complete. The miners filled the galleries with 454 tons of ammonal and gun cotton, while several mines were placed throughout the Messines. The largest were located at St. Eloi, loaded with 95,600 pounds of ammonal divided between two locations: Maedelstede Farm and Spanbroekmolen, the highest points in the area.
German forces came within meters of Allied mines
Two women check an Electric Contact (EC) mine, 1918. (Photo Credit: G.P. Lewis / Imperial War Museums / Getty Images)
The Germans were also digging their own network of tunnels – in fact, one came within meters of the British mine chambers. They also unearthed a mine at La Petite Douve Farm well before the Battle of Messines began.
The Germans weren’t totally oblivious to the Allies’ mine plans, as spies and air-based reconnaissance had picked up on the heavy activity around Messines Ridge. They were also aware that the Allies were planning to use the mines as part of a ground-level attack. After debating leaving the area lined with mines, they decided an assault wasn’t imminent. If one happened to occur, they were confident enough in their defenses, even though some officers wanted to retire to a safer location.
Battle of Messines and the boom heard across Europe
Forty-five-meter-deep crater created by the explosions at the Battle of Messines, 1917. (Photo Credit: Fernand Cuville / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
Just before dawn on June 7, 1917, British artillery halted as the sound of nightingales singing broke through the silence of the battlefield. At 3:10 AM, the mines along the Messines were all fired within 20 seconds of each other, creating a massive boom as the largest non-nuclear explosion tore through German territory.
Some even suggested it was the loudest man-made sound in history, supposedly heard as far as London and Dublin.
“The German troops were stunned, dazed, and horror-stricken if they were not killed outright,” recalled journalist Philip Gibbs. “Many of them lay dead in the great craters opened by the mines.” The explosion was deadly, killing as many as 10,000 German soldiers between Ypres and Ploegstreert.
The troops from the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, Ireland and New Zealand completed most of their objectives within hours of the battle’s commencement, capturing 7,000 German soldiers and allowing the Allies to retake Messines Ridge.
The Allies had created 26 mines and all but seven were set off, resulting in the detonation of one million pounds of explosives. The months of work and meticulous preparation ultimately paid off with very few losses. Messines is still regarded today as one of the major contributors toward the Allied victory in World War I.
Exactly two years before World War I came to an end, Ahmet Ali Çelikten became one of the world’s first Black military aviators. Çelikten, who retired from the Turkish Air Force as a colonel in 1949, set the stage for future mixed-race fighter pilots and Black excellence within militaries around the world.
Ahmet Ali Çelikten’s undergoes flight training
Ahmet Ali Çelikten with other Ottoman aviators who flew in World War I. (Photo Credit: Ottoman Military / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
Ahmet Ali Çelikten was born in the Ottoman Empire in 1883. As a young man, he dreamed of becoming a sailor, and enrolled in the naval technical school Haddehâne Mektebi to make that aspiration a reality. He graduated in 1908 as a first lieutenant.
On February 20, 1914, Çelikten became the first Black pilot to ever receive a license from the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale. He subsequently attended the naval flight school Mülâzım-ı evvel in Yeşilköy, a neighborhood of Istanbul.
Though they are often left out of the picture, the Ottoman Army fought throughout the First World War. Comprised of individuals from all walks of life, races and ethnicities, the Ottomans served the Sultan, protected their homeland and, ultimately, worked to construct a new nation as the Empire collapsed for good.
The Ottomans entered WWI following the Black Sea Raid on October 29, 1914, not long after the start of the conflict. They and Germany created an alliance to allow the latter safe passage into nearby British colonies.
The Balkan Wars in the years prior had depleted Ottoman resources, and their dependence on agriculture was slowly becoming threatened by escalating industrial warfare. Shortly after entering the war, Sultan Mehmed V declared a state of Jihad (meaning meritorious struggle or effort) against the countries that made up the Triple Entente.
In the midst of the conflict, Ottoman leaders knew they needed to train more cadets to be competent pilots and leaders. Çelikten was one of many men who were recruited to receive advanced training. He traveled to France and, later, Berlin to complete aviation courses, before joining the İzmir Naval Aircraft Company. His callsign was “Celik Kara Kartal,” a deconstruction of his name, which translated to “Black Eagle of Steel.”
Çelikten also fought in the war alongside his brother, who died in battle.
Ahmet Ali Çelikten became a freedom fighter
Ahmet Ali Çelikten with other Ottoman pilots who flew during World War I. (Photo Credit: Turkish Air Force / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
During WWI, Ahmet Ali Çelikten married Hatice Hanim, a Greek woman who’d immigrated from Preveza. Following his military service, he became involved in the Turkish War of Independence, volunteering with the Turkish National Movement at Konya Military Air Base.
At the time, Turkish freedom fighters plotted to steal aircraft from Ottoman-owned warehouses and bring them to a location on the Black Sea. Çelikten was recruited to aid in this mission in 1922. The stolen aircraft were subsequently used to protect various Nationalist naval operations and monitor enemy movements along the body of water.
In 1923, the Republic of Turkey was established. Following the successful freedom operation, Çelikten was assigned to an aerial division created to push more aviation operations between Konya and İzmir. In 1924, he was awarded the Türkiye Cumhuriyeti Istiklal Madalyasi – otherwise known as the Independence Medal – by the republic’s founding father, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, and military official Ismet Inönü for his bravery.
An inspiring legacy
Ahmet Ali Çelikten + Eugene Bullard. (Photo Credits: 1. NA / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain 2. USAF / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
By the time he retired in 1949, Ahmet Ali Çelikten was a colonel in the Turkish Air Force. He quietly lived out the rest of his days with his family, and died on June 24, 1969. He inspired several of his family members to serve in the Air Force. His two sons, two daughters, niece and nephew all became pilots, and several grandchildren adopted his love of flight, working in Turkey’s aviation industry.
The predominant narrative accredits African-American pilot Eugene Bullard – who flew for France during WWI – as the first Black military aviator, but Çelikten’s wings were earned in 1914, while Bullard’s were awarded three years later. Bullard is also said to be the only Black airman to have fought in the conflict, despite Çelikten’s service contradicting this statement.
Regardless of who “did it first,” both Ahmet Ali Çelikten and Eugene Bullard are prime examples of Black excellence and bravery in the face of war – fighting for their countries and those who’d previously never been represented in the military.
Shortly after 11:00 AM on July 19, 1918, the Pennsylvania-class armored cruiser USS San Diego (ACR-6) – formerly known as the USS California – was rocked by an explosion on the ship’s port side, near the port engine room. Within 30 minutes, she was at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
When no one took responsibility for the attack, historians were left to their own speculation – that is, until 100 years later, when an underwater archaeologist made an interesting discovery.
USS San Diego‘s (ACR-6) career was tactical and political
USS San Diego (ACR-6), 1916. (Photo Credit: Library of Congress / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
The USS California was launched on April 28, 1904 and commissioned just over three years later. She was assigned to the Pacific Fleet’s 2nd Division, conducting exercises and drills along the west coast. In March 1912, she joined the Asiatic Station, a squadron of US Navy vessels stationed in East Asia. California went on to protect US assets in Nicaragua, enforced the military’s presence off the coast of Mexico and kept the peace during times of political turmoil.
In 1914, the armored cruiser was renamed the USS San Diego. The following year, she was placed on reduced commission after a boiler explosion, which was just a taste of what was to come. San Diego returned to duty as the flagship for Commander-in-Chief, Pacific Fleet until February 1917, when she was placed into reserve status until the United States joined the First World War that April.
One day after the US declared war against Germany, San Diego was placed on full commission as the flagship of Commander, Patrol Force, Pacific Fleet. On July 18, she was ordered to join the Atlantic Fleet, serving as an escort for convoys navigating dangerous passages to Europe, as the north Atlantic was littered with U-boats.
Exactly one year later, she came face-to-face with the true dangers of the ocean.
Sinking of the USS San Diego (ACR-6)
USS San Diego (ACR-6), 1907. (Photo Credit: Library of Congress / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
On July 18, 1918, the USS San Diego left Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in Maine, bound for New York. Captained by Harley H. Christy, she traveled along a zigzag course as all lookouts, fire control parties and gun watches were on full alert.
The next morning, a massive explosion ripped through the ship’s port side. As the crew struggled to stop San Diego from taking on water, they soon realized the bulkhead near the explosion site was warped, making it impossible to close the watertight door between the engine room and the No. 8 fireroom.
As the flooding continued, Capt. Christy ordered the ship to proceed full speed ahead, anticipating they were under attack by a German U-boat. Not only was San Diego unable to accelerate, she could barely move at all – both engines were disabled and her machinery compartments were filling with water.
San Diego began to list, and, within 10 minutes of the explosion, was sinking. Christy ordered his crew to lower the lifeboats and abandon ship, and, within 28 minutes, the cruiser was at the bottom of the Atlantic, making her the only major American warship lost during World War I. Of the over-1,000 crewmen onboard, six died in the tragic incident.
Survivors were left with no answers
Artifacts from USS San Diego (ACR-6) on display. (Photo Credit: Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Lindsay A. Preston / US Navy / Naval History and Heritage Command / Public Domain)
After the sinking, Capt. Christy remained convinced they’d been struck by a torpedo, but there was no evidence that a U-boat had been in the area at the time, and none of the lookouts saw the wake created when a torpedo is fired.
Others speculated it could have been a sea mine, but it’s unlikely one would explode at the stern, instead of the bow of the ship. An official inquiry concluded the sinking was caused by such an explosive, as six contact mines had been located in the vicinity, but the true reason wasn’t that simple.
In 2018, 100 years after the USS San Diego sank, USNI News announced that the cause of the explosion was still inconclusive. Luckily, the American Geophysical Union (AGU) was about ready to hold its annual conference, where a bombshell revelation a century in the making would be dropped.
What really happened to the USS San Diego (ACR-6)?
Alexis Catsambis, underwater archeologist with the Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC), carefully opens a plastic container in which artifacts of shipwrecks are kept. (Photo Credit: Astrid Riecken / The Washington Post / Getty Images)
After two years of research using archival documents, 3D scans and high-tech models, a team of researchers from the Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC) announced their findings. At the 2018 AGU conference, underwater archaeologist Alexis Catsmabis declared, “We believe that U-156 sunk San Diego.”
Catsmabis explained that the flooding patterns didn’t look like an explosion was set inside the vessel, and the hole ripped into the USS San Diego‘s hull “didn’t look like a torpedo strike,” either. It was concluded that the armored cruiser was struck by a U-boat mine placed by SM U-156.
“Torpedos of the time carried more explosives than mines – and would have shown more immediate damage,” shared marine scientist Arthur Trembanis. The explosion itself wasn’t that powerful, but San Diego was filled to the brim with coal, making her top-heavy enough to easily capsize as she took on water.
“With this project, we had an opportunity to set the story straight,” Catsmabis said in a press release, “and by doing so, honor [the memory of the six crewmen who died] and also validate the fact that the men onboard did everything right in the lead up to the attack as well as in the response.”
Today, the wreck of San Diego lies upside down off the coast of New York’s Fire Island, some 110 feet below the water’s surface. Since the highest parts are just 66 feet down, the wreck has become a popular scuba diving attraction. It’s also been nicknamed the “Lobster Hotel” for the large community of lobsters that call the armored cruiser home.
For centuries, militaries tried to harness the ability to command fire. There were various methods used, but the flammenwerfer models developed by the German Army prior to World War I were the beginning of modern flamethrowers as we know them today. Their use in the conflict struck fear into the Allied forces, who were showered in flames while in their trenches, and the weapon’s power was fully recognized as a result.
In 1901, Richard Fiedler patented the design for a machine that could weaponize fire. It’s from this that modern flamethrowers are attributed. Fielder’s design was so intriguing that it caught the attention of the German Army that same year. Officials began funding the project, hoping to adopt whatever means he came up with.
Fiedler was tasked with coming up with various models of flammenwerfers and presented a working prototype in 1905. After testing and trials, two designs were delivered and accepted into service: the grossflammenwerfer and the kleinflammenwerfer.
Also known as the Grof, the Grossflammenwerfer was the largest and heaviest of the German flamethrowers, and not intended to be carried by troops. Comprised of a stationary fuel and propellant tank with a loose hose, it would be placed in one position, as it wasn’t easily moved. Once set up, soldiers would use the hose to attack enemy trenches.
Early versions of the Grof could spray flames up to 40 yards for 40-50 seconds, while later models allowed for multiple hoses and tanks to be used. This early flammenwerfer had to be operated by a team of five men. Operators would aim the fire upward, to cause the flames to “rain” down on enemy trenches, instead of spraying across the top.
A disadvantage of the Grof was the risk of the tank exploding, due to enemy fire, and that the sheer amount of flammable liquid held within would cause a much larger – and possibly lethal – explosion.
Kleinflammenwerfer
Soldiers operating a kleinflammenwerfer during World War I. (Photo Credit: Bundesarchiv, Bild 104-0669 / Wikimedia Commons CC-BY-SA 3.0 de)
Also known as the Kleif, the kleinflammenwerfer was a more portable flamethrower operated by a four-man crew. Still not operable by a single person, it had two functioning parts: the fuel and propellant tank that was worn as a backpack and the hose that connected to it.
The first soldier was in charge of carrying the tank, accompanied by a second for assistance. The third was in charge of operating the hose and and directing the spray, while the fourth crewman was trained to assault enemy positions. The intention was to force them out, thus exposing the troops to the destruction and pain of the Kleif. There were multiple variations developed that saw the necessary crew dwindle to two, but it could never quite be reduced to a single soldier.
As it was smaller that the Grof, the Kleif was unable to achieve the same reach. The spray was limited to 20-30 yards, with a continuous spray of just 20-40 seconds. Regardless, the Kleif proved effective when it was first unleashed by the Germans at Verdun on February 26, 1915.
Wechselapparat
US soldiers testing a captured Wechselapparat. (Photo Credit: U.S. Signal Corps / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
A third flammenwerfer was developed well into the First World War: the Wechselapparat, also known as the Wex. It was introduced into service in 1917 and had a unique distinction over the Kleif, as its backpack-style tank was donut-shaped.
Like the Kleif, the Wex was operated by a four-man crew, although it seems probable that it could have technically been manned by a single person. As this was a possibility, it’s likely soldiers were trained on how to operate it individually, but, due to the ease of the team approach, this was almost never employed.
Bernhard Reddemann made flammenwerfers useable on the battlefield
Photo Credit: ullstein bild / Getty Images
Independent of Fiedler, Bernhard Reddemann developed his own flamethrower. He was inspired by the use of kerosene by the Japanese in the Russo-Japanese War, and used his knowledge as a chief firefighter using pumping equipment to extinguish fires.
When the First World War broke out, Reddemann served as part of a Pioniere unit made up of specialized troops. By the second year of the conflict, he was the head of a flammenwerfer battalion, and Fiedler’s designs were made viable in war thanks to him.
The flammenwerfer units employed both the Grof and Kleif to initiate combined attacks, which were some of the most successful uses of the weapons during the conflict. Reddemann kept records of his men, recording only 890 deaths of the thousands who served. He also noted that they were successful in more than 80 percent of attacks.
The flammenwerfers of WWI continued to be improved upon, and a single-soldier version was ready to be equipped by the time the German Army became embroiled in the Second World War.
The Meuse-Argonne Offensive toward the end of World War I is widely considered to be the campaign that truly stopped any and all fighting along the Western Front. It saw the US and French militaries use their combined strength to push the Germans several miles over the course of a month and a half, albeit at the expense of hundreds of thousands of lives.
High US casualties during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
US troops preparing for the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, September 1918. (Photo Credit: The Print Collector / Getty Images)
The Meuse-Argonne Offensive was the final Allied engagement along the Western Front during the First World War, carried out over 47 days by American and French troops. It was both the largest in the history of the US military, with 1.2 million Americans participating, and the deadliest to involve the US Army. The service suffered over 122,000 casualties, of which more than 26,000 were killed in action (KIA).
The reason American casualties were so high was that 70 percent of troops were young (between 18-23) and inexperienced. This, paired with poorly-planned tactics and the spread of the Spanish Flu, greatly impacted the effectiveness of the US forces. That being said, with over one million soldiers, they greatly outnumbered the Germans, which ultimately proved beneficial to the outcome of the war.
Initially, the American forces consisted of 15 First US Army divisions, while the French had 31. Altogether, they were equipped with 2,780 artillery pieces, 840 aircraft and 380 tanks. At this point in the conflict, the Germans were fighting with only 50 percent of their initial strength, but they were still able to put up enough of a resistance to force the Americans and French to call in reinforcements.
Aim of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
German fortified outpost during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, 1918. (Photo Credit: SeM / Universal Images Group / Getty Images)
At the time, the Germans had the high ground along the Western Front. The Meuse-Argonne Offensive devised a plan to take that away by clearing the forest, after which the Allies would continue their advance and capture Sedan.
The city was home to a railway hub that was essential to the Germans, as it issued around 250 cargo trains a day to those forces stationed throughout France and Belgium. Each was filled with supplies and weapons. Therefore, capturing Sedan was integral to the Allies gaining control of the Western Front.
Commencing the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
US troops traveling to the battle line during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, September 1918. (Photo Credit: CORBIS / Getty Images)
The first phase of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive began with an American attack at approximately 5:30 AM on September 26, 1918, led by Gen. John J. Pershing. The three-hour-long frontal bombardment was intended to push against the German line.
While the V and III Corps were able to achieve most of what they’d intended with the assault, the 28th Infantry Division was met with heavy resistance from the Germans. As well, the 91st had to evacuate Épinonville, while the 79th and 37th failed to secure Montfaucon and Montfaucon-d’Argonne.
The following day was much less successful. However, the 79th Division did manage to capture Montfaucon. On top of this, the 35th captured not only the village of Baulny, but Charpentry and Hill 218, as well.
German forces launch a counterattack
German dugout in the Forest of Argonne, 1917-18. (Photo Credit: Unknown Author / U.S. National Archives and Records Administration / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
The Germans deployed reinforcements and launched a counterattack against the 35th Division on September 29, 1918. The US division had undergone leadership changes prior to the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, so it’s likely that poor commanders impacted their success.
Even with the counterattack, the 35th Division was still able to advance 15 km.
The Americans had overwhelming numbers compared to the Germans, which, despite their inexperience, put a lot of pressure on the enemy and forced them to retreat. In the first month, the Allies had successfully captured 9,000 prisoners of war (POWs). However, by that October, both sides were forced to call in reinforcements as they continued to wage the bloodiest battle seen on the Western Front.
Launching phase two of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
US soldiers pass through the ruins of Varennes-en-Argonne during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, 1918. (Photo Credit: The Print Collector / Getty Images)
Phases two and three of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive moved extremely fast.
The second began on October 4, 1918, when the infantry divisions involved in the first assault were replaced by the 32nd, 3rd and 1st. Advancing two and a half kilometers against the German 37th and 5th Divisions, as well as the 52nd Infantry Division, the 1st created a gap in the enemy line.
Between October 14-17, the Americans performed several frontal assaults that broke the Germans’ main defenses, although this resulted in high casualties. The 42nd Infantry Division took over Côte de Châtillon, considered the turning point for the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Led by Brig. Gen. Douglas MacArthur, the division took advantage of a gap created in the German line.
The force with which the Americans pushed against the enemy was impressive, and, by November, they were closing in on Sedan.
Successfully capturing Sedan
Members of the 18th Infantry, 1st Division scaling the side of Hill 240 during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, October 1918. (Photo Credit: PhotoQuest / Getty Images)
Beginning the third phase on November 1, 1918, the Americans reached the Meuse, and, by November 4, had the prized railway hub surrounded. Just a few days later, on November 10, they successfully took Sedan and cut off any German access.
By the end of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, the Americans had cleared the area and pushed the Germans back over 10 miles. By securing Sedan, the engagement had taken away control from the enemy and effectively brought an end to fighting along the Western Front.
With the loss of their railway system, the soldiers within the Imperial German Army began to mutiny, leading all sides to agree to a ceasefire and ultimately resulting in the signing of the Armistice on November 11.
Lost Battalion of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
Lost Battalion of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. (Photo Credit: Bettmann / Getty Images)
American advances during the second phase of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive were too speedy for some, resulting in a mistake that cost the lives of hundreds of soldiers.
A group of 554 men from B Company, 308th Infantry Regiment, 77th Infantry Division advanced too far and became surrounded by the Germans, making them forever known as the “Lost Battalion.” Considered the first over the top, they drew the attention of the enemy and created a distraction that ultimately allowed the Allies to break through and force the Germans to retreat.
The unit was largely made up of new recruits, and their advancement past the Allied line was a mistake. They believed they were supported by the French along their left flank, when, in reality, their reinforcements were delayed. This allowed the Germans to encircle and close them in with barbed wire.
Encircled by the Germans and targeted by friendly fire
The Lost Battalion, 1919. (Photo Credit: MacManus Corporation / Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain)
While encircled, the Lost Battalion suffered greatly due to a lack of food and medical supplies. They were also cut off from radio communications, so their last hope was to call for help using carrier pigeons. However, the Germans shot down each and every one.
At the same time the battalion was suffering artillery from the Germans, they were also targeted by unknowing American fire. Their last pigeon, Cher Ami, miraculously flew past the Germans, despite sustaining several injuries, and delivered a note to the US forces, which read, “We are along the road parallel to 276.4. Our own artillery is dropping a barrage directly on us. For heaven’s sake, stop it.”
One soldier with the Lost Battalion, Samuel Marcus, wrote about his experience behind enemy lines. He recounted in one diary entry, “We cut our way through wire entanglements, fought machine gun nests, laid in holes, hastily dug, wet, cold, hungry, pushed ahead without any relief, being encircled by the Germans and attacked and starved for 6 days when at last we were rescued, a sorry lot of men.”
He later wrote in his diary, “Nothing can ever seem hard to me after what I have gone through.”
Unfortunately, the Lost Battalion is a misnomer, as they were never “lost” – they were abandoned by their comrades. The troops were stuck behind enemy lines for a week, after which they were rescued – and attacked by – the 28th and 82nd Infantry Divisions. Of the 554 who were trapped, only 194 were saved.
