Chapter M: I 8 is the Cable and Telegraph Section of Military Intelligence. A (2)

A no less important phase of the section’s activities was the censorship of still and motion pictures taken for commercial use at home and abroad and the supervision of the firms and individuals taking them. When one remembers that “The Birth of a Nation” is estimated to have been seen by 60,000,000 people, a realization can be had of the enormous possibilities of the motion-picture for purposes of propaganda and the necessity of subjecting it to rigid censorship. Whenever a picture contained a suggestion of enemy propaganda, or when the policy of a producing company appeared to be antagonistic to the interests of the United States, a systematic investigation was started to determine the loyalty of the officers of the organization and the source of its financial backing. If the enemy propaganda was evidently intentional, steps were immediately taken to prosecute the producers under the Espionage Act. If, however, as was usually the case, the fault was due to mere ignorance or thoughtlessness, a conference with the persons concerned generally resulted in the alteration or withdrawal of the offending picture.

Exceptional precautions were observed in the censoring of films destined for export. This work was in charge of the Customs Division of the Treasury Department, the films being viewed by a board composed of representatives of the Customs, Military and Naval Intelligence, and the Committee on Public Information. If a member of this board made any objection to a film it was sent to the custom-house for review by another board of censors. If the matter to be deleted was unimportant, the objectionable parts were cut out in the projection room. If the film was approved, a letter of clearance was issued by the Committee on Public Information and an export license was then granted by the War Trade Board; should the film be rejected, the license was, of course, refused.

In censoring commercial films and photographs, every effort was made to prevent the export of pictures which might reveal the war secrets of the United States, which might be distorted and used as enemy propaganda, or which might give a wrong impression of the conditions prevailing in this country. For example, no pictures dealing with the influenza epidemic were permitted to leave the country, for the German Government would almost certainly have used them as proof that the man-power of America was seriously impaired, thus encouraging the German people to prolong their resistance. An export license was refused to a picture showing the effects of a cyclone in Tyler, Texas, because, had it reached Germany, it would, in all probability, have been given a caption something like this: “American city after bombardment by German aircraft.” The fact that there were no German aircraft on this side of the Atlantic would have made no difference; the credulous German public would have greeted such a picture with wild applause. As a matter of fact, thousands of pictures of crumbling castles in England and of French ruins dating from the Crusades were used in such manner by the Germans. For a similar reason, the beautiful poster drawn by Joseph Pennell for the Fourth Liberty Loan, depicting New York City in ruins as the result of a raid by German aircraft, was not permitted to go abroad, for it would have been only too easy for the German Government to publish it as an official picture of the devastation wrought by German airmen in the American metropolis. I have wondered, indeed, why the German propaganda bureau did not publish a picture of Pompeii with a caption to the effect that it was an Italian city destroyed by the Austrian fleet.

Some curious schemes were perfected by German agents in the United States to convey messages to Germany in spite of the censorship. A set of films depicting cannibal life in the South Seas aroused the suspicions of the censors because of the irregularity of the perforations and because of certain mysterious numbers appearing along the edges. The films were finally passed for export, but not until the perforations and numbers had been trimmed off. On another occasion the censor seized an advertising folder, issued by a famous New York department store, which contained a photograph of an exceedingly good-looking young woman wearing an embroidered blouse and a plaid skirt, such as the store was offering for sale. The picture showed the young woman standing beside a table, holding in one hand a volume which, upon close inspection, was found to bear the peculiar title _The Laborer’s Catechism_. Some bright mind in the Censorship Section deduced that this title was really the key to a code message, and that the message itself was contained in the embroidery on the blouse. The story, which appeared to have all the elements of a first-class spy tale, was spoiled, however, by the unromantic code experts of M I 8, who professed themselves unable to find any message concealed in the embroidery. Both the department store and the photographers who took the picture were entirely absolved of any attempt to communicate with the enemy, and the young woman herself was found in a hospital, desperately ill with influenza. When the agents of the Department of Justice visited the hospital some time later for the purpose of interrogating her, it was found that she had left for parts unknown. Whether the message was embroidery or imaginary I do not pretend to say. I merely repeat the story because it illustrates the extreme caution exercised by the Censorship Section. Knowing the cunning of the Teuton, it was taking no chances.

Speaking of false scents in the tracking of spies, I remember being told in England of an old lady, apparently a woman of some means, living in a suburb of London, who was accustomed to write several times a week to her daughter in Austria. The letters, being addressed to an enemy country, were, of course, opened by the censor. Though there was nothing in the communications themselves which could, by any stretch of the imagination, be interpreted as treason, the suspicions of the officials were instantly aroused by the discovery that each letter contained three new playing-cards. One letter might contain, for example, the ace of hearts, the ten of clubs, and the king of diamonds; in the next letter, posted a few days later, would be the seven and the nine of spades and the king of hearts. Here was a code which baffled every expert in the United Kingdom. British Intelligence, the Censor’s Bureau, and the Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard all tried to ferret out the mystery of the cards, but without success. Every conceivable test was applied to both the letters and the cards for codes, ciphers, and invisible writing, but without an atom of success. At length the old lady, whose every movement had been shadowed for weeks, was summoned to Scotland Yard and questioned. When the chief inquisitor suddenly demanded of her why she enclosed playing-cards in her letters to her daughter, she replied: “My daughter is a great bridge-player, and when I read in the newspapers that it was impossible to get cards in Austria, I thought I would slip three or four cards into every letter. In that way, you see, I would be able to send her a pack every five or six weeks.”

To another subsection of M I 10 was delegated the censorship of mail to and from the prisoners of war in the various internment camps in the United States. As there were nearly 6,000 of these interned enemies, and as they were permitted, by the regulations, to send nearly 40,000 letters and post-cards a month, no limit being placed on the amount of mail they could receive, the task of censoring this mass of correspondence, most of it in languages other than English, was very far from being a sinecure. The primary object of this censorship was to prevent the passing of objectionable communications, such as attacks on the government or information which might be of value to the enemy. The censors were also constantly on the watch to prevent the prisoners from acting as correspondence intermediaries; that is, from transmitting messages from Germany to German sympathizers in the United States, or _vice versa_. The kind of paper to be used by the prisoners for their correspondence was selected by the subsection with a view to making difficult, if not impossible, the use of secret inks. Thousands of letters, both to and from the prisoners, were submitted to chemical tests for invisible writing, and hundreds of others, which aroused suspicion because of their peculiar wording or unusual marking, were examined for possible messages in code. One prisoner endeavored to communicate with his wife by writing in lemon-juice under the flap of the envelope, and at Fort Douglas a scheme was discovered whereby German sympathizers communicated with the prisoners by means of dots placed under the letters of words in newspapers sent into the internment camp.

In the days before the Great War revolutionized our customs and restricted the amazing liberty of action which we had enjoyed, it was as easy for any one who had the price of a ticket in his pocket to leave the United States as it was for him to leave his own dwelling. To-day—by which I mean the summer of 1919—it is about as easy for an American to leave the United States as it is for a convict to leave Sing Sing. This condition of affairs, so unfamiliar to Americans, is due to the barrier which has been thrown around these shores by rigid enforcement of the passport regulations of the Department of State in co-operation with the Passport Section of Military Intelligence. Prior to the passport regulations of September, 1918, no law of this country required an American travelling abroad to have a passport. In fact, the only countries where passports were needed were Russia and Turkey. But upon the breaking of the war-cloud in the summer of 1914, passports were required everywhere, and the person who could not produce one upon demand, immediately became an object of suspicion and investigation. Under the regulations now in force, the Department of State, by its authority to exercise discretion in the issuance of passports, is in a position to control travel. And, thanks to the facilities of M I 11 for investigating the loyalty and character of applicants, the department is able to form a remarkably accurate opinion as to whether the applications it receives should be refused or granted.

It must be perfectly obvious that, had the old system of non-interference with travel been permitted to continue, German agents could easily have come to the United States through neutral countries, gathered such information as they required, and departed as they came. When war was declared on April 6, 1917, it was not necessary for Congress to pass a law restricting travel by alien enemies, for the law was already in existence, having been framed in 1798, at a time when France was our enemy instead of our ally, and handed down to us by the Fathers. As a result of the authority conferred by this forgotten statute, the German agent who counted on the law’s delay, habeas corpus proceedings, and a long-drawn-out trial by jury, received the surprise of his life, for he found himself seized by a long, swift arm which, waiting for neither indictment nor trial, placed him where he could do no further mischief.

The seaman presented perhaps the most perplexing problem in the control of travel. He rarely remains on the same vessel for more than a few voyages and he seldom has a real home where his antecedents can be looked up. Moreover, under the Seaman’s Act, he is permitted, if not, indeed, encouraged, to desert in an American port in order to be re-engaged at the higher American rates of pay. So long as seamen from neutral countries, particularly those adjacent to Germany, could come ashore at will in American ports, no really effective control was possible. So, following the example of England and the advice of our military attachés in the countries of northern Europe, an order was issued by the Secretary of State—though not until seventeen days before the signing of the Armistice—forbidding seamen from neutral countries to leave their ships while in American ports. The presence of naval guards on the vessels insured the enforcement of the order, which was withdrawn, however, shortly after the signing of the Armistice.

By an arrangement with the State Department, all passport applications, both from citizens and aliens, are referred to M I 11 for investigation. The files of the Military Intelligence Division now contain a vast amount of information, much of it of a very detailed character, concerning persons and business firms in the United States and foreign countries. By referring to these files, therefore, or by directing its agents to make special investigations, it is an easy matter for the Passport Section to decide whether the applicant is the sort of a person to whom a passport should be granted. The passenger-list of every vessel bound for an American port is cabled to the Passport Section by the American consul upon the departure of the vessel from the last port of call. These lists are checked in the suspect files of the Military Intelligence Division, and if there is found anything which makes a passenger objectionable or suspicious, the intelligence officer at the port where the ship will arrive is promptly notified, whereupon the passenger in question is either denied entry to the United States or placed under arrest, according to his nationality and other circumstances. A somewhat similar system of control is in operation along the Mexican and Canadian borders, the immigration and intelligence officers who are stationed in the towns along the international boundaries making it difficult, though by no means impossible, for undesirables to enter or leave the country. It will thus be seen that the Passport Section, aided by a small army of military attachés, consuls, customs officials, immigration officers, secret agents, and intelligence police, has succeeded in establishing a highly effective control of travel, thus preventing the entry or departure of persons whose expressions or actions might prove detrimental to the interests of the United States.

Military control of travel is, of course, a war-time measure, and with the passing of the emergency which gave it birth it will almost certainly disappear, along with most of the other activities of Military Intelligence. Though I am heartily in favor of completely restoring the country to a peace-time basis, and of abolishing the many highly arbitrary measures made necessary by the war, it seems to me that it might be a good idea to continue some form of travel control which would prevent the entry into the United States of undesirable aliens. We have quite enough of them as it is.

VIII

“TREAT ’EM ROUGH!”

It is rather a curious circumstance that the idea from which was evolved one of the most formidable weapons of the war, and one which proved a prime factor in bringing Germany to her knees, was obtained by an Englishman in Germany, from under the very noses of the Germans themselves, who did not have the vision to recognize its amazing military possibilities. About a year before the Teutonic wave surged across the frontiers of France, the representative of a California manufacturing concern was giving demonstrations in the larger German cities of a singular device known as the Holt caterpillar tractor. Though this contrivance, in spite of its grotesque and clumsy appearance, could cross ditches and surmount obstacles with amazing agility, it did not arouse particular interest among the Germans, for it was intended for the pursuits of peace, whereas they were even then seeking new means for making war. But it chanced that among the onlookers at one of the demonstrations was an English traveller, who had the imagination to see in the clumsy machine, as it waddled across an apparently impassable terrain with the relentlessness of fate, something more than an agricultural appliance. Upon his return to England he described the tractor to Colonel E. D. Swinton, who evinced the liveliest interest in the subject, closely examining the pictures and asking countless questions. I might add that General Swinton, for he has since been promoted, has, unlike most professional soldiers, a highly developed imagination, as is shown in the stories he has written, the best known of which is entitled _The Green Curve_. Colonel Swinton, who had served in the South African campaign, had long had in mind an idea for an armored fighting-machine, a sort of small fort on wheels, which could be propelled by its own power over ground impassable to any other type of vehicle. The caterpillar tractor gave him the means of propulsion which he had been seeking. But, as might have been expected, the hidebound, brassbound officials of the War Office condemned the suggestion as fantastic and impractical, it not being until 1915, when the gloom of despondency overhung the land and people snatched at straws of hope, that Swinton’s plans were taken from their pigeonhole for reconsideration and he was reluctantly given permission to show what he could do. Upon caterpillar tractors brought from America he proceeded to mount armored hulls built according to his own designs, the land battleships thus created being armed with both field and machine guns. They were tested under conditions of the greatest secrecy, the trials proving so successful that the construction of a considerable number was immediately authorized. In order that the public might obtain no hint of the true nature or purpose of these terrible new weapons they were referred to as “tanks,” the impression being given that they were intended for transporting water. Painted in dull colors and swathed in tarpaulins, fifty tanks were landed at Le Havre on August 29, 1916, and were moved up to the Somme front under cover of darkness. At dawn on September 15, everything being in readiness for the launching of the great Somme drive, they were entered in battle on a most astonished foe.

Though I saw one of the tanks in action on this occasion—it was named, if I am not mistaken, “_Crème de Menthe_”—I was not permitted to photograph it or to write about it. It has repeatedly been asserted that these tanks were the first vehicles of their kind in the history of warfare, and that is true, so far as the method used for their propulsion is concerned, yet it is interesting to note that, ten years before the Great Navigator set foot on the beach of San Salvador, Leonardo da Vinci had written as follows to the Duke Ludovico Sforza: “I am also building secure and covered chariots which are invulnerable, and when they advance with their guns into the midst of the foe, even the largest army masses must retreat, and behind them infantry may follow in safety and without opposition.”

Everything considered, the tanks were not of much assistance to the infantry on the occasion of their first appearance, though they unquestionably caused considerable consternation in the German lines. Owing to delay in production, the British were obliged to employ at the battle of Arras, on April 9, 1917, tanks identical with those which had been used on the Somme and which were, in reality, fit only for training purposes, having only 8-mm. armor. Nevertheless, two battalions were launched on a two-kilometre front, and there is no doubt that they rendered valuable service, the capture by twelve tanks of a German stronghold known as “The Harp” being a particularly noteworthy achievement. Eighty-eight tanks of an improved model, protected with 12-mm. armor, were used in the attack on Messines Ridge, June 7, 1917, but the success of the infantry was so complete on that occasion that the tanks had only an unimportant rôle to play. The torrential rains which fell during the early stages of the Ypres offensive on July 31 turned the battle-field into a broad and treacherous morass, in which tanks were of but little use. The following figures, which were doubtless as well known to Hindenburg as to Haig, explain why the tanks did not sweep everything before them, as it was confidently expected that they would do, and why the Germans were no longer particularly alarmed by their appearance:

Battle of Tanks in action Ditched Hit by shells

{ Arras 60 33 (55%) 7 (2%)
First day’s fighting { Messines 88 7 (19%) 4 (5%)
{ Ypres 133 60 (45%) 37 (28%)

It was my understanding at the time that the use of tanks by the British during the fighting on the Somme caused great annoyance to the French High Command, it being asserted that the British had agreed not to make use of their machines until the tanks which the French had under construction were ready, when both armies would make a combined tank attack on a large scale. How much foundation there was for this assertion I do not know, but perhaps it was as well that the British tanks made their début when they did, for the French did not make use of tanks until April 16, 1917, when 132 Schneider tanks attacked between Rheims and the Aisne. “In spite of the congratulations of the commander-in-chief,” reads a French report, “the results did not meet expectations, although wherever tanks were used they led the infantry beyond the advance of the rest of the front of attack.”

It would seem that it was not until the British victory at Cambrai, when 430 tanks were used to lead a large attack, in the course of which 8,000 prisoners and 100 guns were taken, that the German High Command realized that the use of tanks could no longer be postponed, for shortly thereafter the German Tank Corps was formed, an Antitank School of Instruction was established, and orders were placed for a large number of antitank rifles. The Germans experienced numerous manufacturing difficulties, however, in the construction of their tanks, and when Marshal Hindenburg inspected the first fifteen _panzerkraftwagens_, as they were called, at Charleroi, in March, 1918, he damned them with the faint praise: “They probably won’t be of much use, but since they are made we might as well employ them.” This discouraging send-off apparently had its effect, for the original of the _Elfriede_ type—_Elfriede_ herself—was ditched and captured near Villers-Brettoneux a few weeks later. By contriving to unite in this one model all the faults of the British and French tanks, the Germans once again proved the truth of the old saying: “Success has many imitators, but sometimes they copy only her defects.” According to a German deserter, the German Tank Corps in July, 1918, consisted of 25 German tanks and 50 repaired British machines. This same authority stated that 250 light tanks had been ordered for delivery in September, 1918, and that in April construction had been begun on a monster 38 feet long, weighing 110 tons, carrying four 77-mm. cannon and 13 machine-guns. This formidable war-engine, called a “_Fahrbarer Sefechtsunterstand: ver dunden mit Artillerie unt Infanterie Beebachtung_,” boasted contrivances for creating artificial mists (probably similar to our own smoke-producing devices), for laying and covering its own telephone-wires en route, was equipped with wireless, and carried a crew of an officer and twenty-eight men. If this supertank was ever constructed, it certainly never went into action.

The Germans were more successful, however, when it came to devising protective measures against tank attacks. These consisted of trenches of peculiar construction and design, some of them from 15 to 20 feet wide and 6 to 8 feet in depth; “tank traps,” consisting of deep pits with camouflaged covers; bridges so built as not to support a tank’s weight; mine-fields; special tank observation-posts; _Tank Goschutz Batterie_, as the Germans called their groups of 77-mm. antitank cannon; 55-mm. tank batteries, which were kept in pits about a thousand metres from the front line and were only brought up when tanks were signalled; trench mortars mounted for horizontal fire; machine-guns firing armor-piercing bullets; hand-grenades with concentrated charges, and antitank rifles. The antitank rifle was a single-shot Mauser, mounted on a bipod, weighing 32 pounds and firing an armor-piercing ball of 13-mm. caliber. At close range this weapon penetrated the British heavy and the French light tanks. Had it been used in groups it might well have proved extremely formidable, but the unpopularity it enjoyed because of its heavy recoil combined with a well-founded reluctance on the part of its users to await the near approach of a tank, in a large measure neutralized its effectiveness. Toward the close of the struggle it seems to have fallen into general disuse, and when the Armistice was signed the enemy was preparing to supplant it with a 22-mm. machine-gun, a few of which had already been used with considerable success.

* * * * *

When the United States entered the war in April, 1917, the value of the tank as a weapon of offense had been so thoroughly established that steps were immediately taken to form a tank organization of our own, a special regiment—the 65th Engineers—being raised for the purpose. The units of this regiment were recruited at Camp Upton, New York; Camp Devens, Massachusetts; Camp Meade, Maryland; Camp Lee, Virginia, and Camp Cody, New Mexico, the entire regiment being assembled in March, 1918, at Camp Colt, on the battle-field of Gettysburg, which then became the general concentration and preliminary training-camp for the tank organization. The tanks passed from the control of the Corps of Engineers on March 6, 1918, when the Secretary of War directed the organization of the Tank Corps as a separate arm of the service, Lieutenant-Colonel Ira C. Welborn, a regular infantry officer, being commissioned as colonel and appointed director of the Tank Corps in the United States.

The structural organization of the corps, as it existed at the close of the war, consisted of General Tank Headquarters, with 15 officers and 60 men; Army Tank Headquarters (one for each field army), with 7 officers and 27 men; Brigade Headquarters, 4 officers and 47 men; a Heavy Battalion, with a strength of 68 officers and 778 men; a Light Battalion, consisting of 20 officers and 375 men; a repair and salvage company, 4 officers and 146 men; a Depot Company, 4 officers and 138 men. To each Army Tank Headquarters were assigned 5 brigades, each brigade being composed of 3 battalions, 1 heavy and 2 light, and 1 repair and salvage company. A battalion consists of three companies, each company having three platoons. As five fighting-tanks are assigned to each platoon, it will thus be seen that a field army has 675 tanks at its disposal.

The commissioned and enlisted personnel of the Tank Corps was of as high an average, both mentally and physically, as any organization in the army, not even excepting the Air Service. About 65 per cent of the corps were technically trained men—engineers and machinists—while the remaining 35 per cent was composed of business and professional men, farmers, cow-punchers, college undergraduates, and soldiers of fortune. They came from every section of every State in the Union. Their versatility was denoted by the pipings of their overseas caps—blue, red, and yellow—which denoted that they combined the functions of infantry, artillery, and cavalry. Several other colors might appropriately have been added, however, for the tank men were as familiar with Browning, Lewis, and Vickers as the machine-gunners, they knew as much about gas-engines as the Motor Transport Corps, they were as competent to make repairs as the men of the Ordnance Department, and in action they took as many risks as the youngsters on whose breasts were embroidered the silver wings. They were as keen as razors and as hard as nails. They were, to use the phraseology of the plains, fairly “rarin’ to go,” and they were ready and anxious to fight at the drop of the hat. In fact, that was why they joined the Tank Corps—because they believed it offered more opportunities for Boche-killing than any other branch of the service.

The training of the tank units was based on infantry drill, which is the best means of instilling discipline. This was supplemented, however, by instruction in the use of machine-guns and tank cannon and in the operation and maintenance of gas-engines, the men finally being brought to a point where they were ready to take up technical and tactical tank training at the British and French tank-training centres, to which they were sent as soon as there was accommodation for them. Thousands of men, trained to the limit of the facilities in this country, were held at Gettysburg from April and May until August and September because of the shortage of tanks and the lack of training facilities in France. Not until September, in fact, did any tanks become available for training purposes in the United States, when there arrived five British heavy tanks and several light tanks of American manufacture, thus permitting training to be resumed on a larger scale. When the Armistice was signed, the Tank Corps had a total of 20,212 officers and men, of whom 8,183 were serving in Europe. Shortly before the collapse of Germany preparations had been begun for the great Allied drive planned for the spring of 1919, steps being taken to increase the corps to a point where it could supply tank units for four field armies. The proposed strength for this purpose was 57,940 officers and men, it being planned to have this entire force fully organized, trained, equipped, and in France by the early spring of 1919.

The programme of tank construction for the American Army was initiated in February, 1918, but, owing to the extensive arrangements which had to be made with numerous manufacturers for the enormous number of parts required, and to the fact that there existed in the United States little or no accurate data regarding tank construction, the first light tank was not delivered to the Tank Corps in the United States until the following September. Owing to the more complicated mechanism of the heavy tanks, none of them was completed before the signing of the Armistice. The machines used by the American Tank Corps units engaged on the Western Front were supplied by the French and British, no American-built tanks being employed in active fighting during the war.

_Photograph by Signal Corps, U. S. A._]

_Photograph by Signal Corps, U. S. A._]

After a series of conferences between American, French, and British tank officers, it was decided that two types of tanks should be manufactured in the United States: a heavy model (Mark VIII) and a light machine (Mark I) known as a “whippet.” The heavy tank, which weighs thirty-five tons and carries a crew of one officer and nine men, is armed with two six-pounder rapid-fire guns and six Browning machine-guns, and is capable of a speed of from four and one-half to six miles an hour over ordinary ground. The whippet, named after a breed of small dog used in England for racing, was an adaption of the French Renault tank. It weighs six tons and carries a crew of two men—a driver and a gunner—and over ordinary ground can move at a speed of from seven to eight miles an hour. These, then, were the two types of tanks originally decided upon, but, as will be seen, the programme was considerably altered.

When it was decided that the United States should embark on a programme of tank construction, the Ordnance Department had only the haziest instructions to guide it. Owing to the mystery in which the French and British enshrouded the details of their tank construction, all that our Ordnance officers knew about a tank was that it should be able to cross trenches at least six feet wide, that it should be protected with armor-plate approximately five-eighths of an inch thick, and that it should carry one heavy gun and two or three machine-guns. Two experimental machines were laid down and work started on them at once, these models being intended to develop the possibilities of the gas, electric, and steam systems of propulsion as well as to ascertain the relative advantages of very large wheels and a specially articulated form of caterpillar tread.

At this time the British were using and were interested in a large tank only. The French had been using a medium-sized tank, known as the Schneider, but, as it had not been wholly successful, they had developed a much smaller two-man machine, called the Renault, which presented some very decided advantages and which they eventually adopted as their only type. While the large British tank had been reasonably successful in operation, it had certain very decided limitations which the British themselves recognized, so, after a thorough investigation of its possibilities and shortcomings, it was decided to redesign the large tank rather than to copy the existing model with its admitted defects. It was furthermore decided that the work of designing should be done jointly by British and American engineers, acting under the Anglo-American agreement drawn up as the result of a conference at British General Headquarters, which provided for the joint production by England and the United States of 1,500 large tanks, England to furnish the hulls, guns, and ammunition, the United States to provide the power-plant and driving mechanism. When the Armistice was signed, approximately 50 per cent of the work represented by the American components had been completed, and it was confidently expected that the entire programme of 1,500 would have been completed by March. England had about 250 of the hulls ready when the Armistice was signed.

* * * * *

The work of manufacturing the French type of tank had not progressed satisfactorily, however, this being partly due to the delay involved in changing all drawings from the metric system to the American, and to the difficulty which was experienced in inducing American concerns to take on the production of this machine, which is extremely complicated and difficult to manufacture. It was necessary, therefore, to divide up manufacturing activities on this tank between a considerable number of plants. The original programme called for 4,440 of these small tanks, of which 209 had been completed by the end of December, 1918, with 289 more partly completed and production just getting under way. There was every reason to believe that the entire number would have been ready for use by April, 1919.

During the last summer of the war two new types of tank were developed. One of these was a two-man, three-ton affair, which the Ford Motor Company guaranteed to produce at the rate of one hundred a day. Orders were placed with that concern for 15,000 of these “flivvers” and the first 500 machines would have been ready for delivery on January 1, but upon the signing of the Armistice their production was stopped. The other machine was a successor to the French Renault, but designed with a view to quantity production. It carried three men instead of two and was armed with both a 37-mm. cannon and a machine-gun, whereas the Renault carried only two men and one weapon. The cost of production would have been very much less than the Renault machine and the weight substantially the same. One thousand of these had already been ordered and negotiations were pending for a second thousand—the first to be delivered in January and the entire two thousand by the end of March.

In addition to the above activities, the Ordnance Department had decided to build 1,450 of the large Mark VIII tanks, including hull, guns, and ammunition, entirely in this country. In fact, work on the interior components for this lot of machines was well under way when the Armistice was signed.

It was perhaps as well for the Germans that they contracted yellow fever when they did, for had the war continued long enough to permit of America launching the avalanche of tanks which she had under construction, the Huns certainly would have had heart-failure. I doubt, indeed, if any Americans, save the handful of officers directly concerned, realize how tremendous was our tank programme. When the war ended, orders had actually been placed for 23,390 tanks, representing an outlay of approximately $175,000,000. This vast fleet of tanks was to be manned by some 58,000 men—as many as there were in the entire American Army prior to the war with Spain. _Had these tanks been placed side to side they would have formed a moving wall of steel forty miles long._ Even the comparatively few Tank Corps units which had an opportunity to get into action gave the enemy a taste of what we were preparing for him. Their crest was an angry cat. Their motto was “Treat ’Em Rough!” And they did.

IX

“GET THERE!”

It may be said, without taking undue liberties with the truth, that the newest branch of the American Army, the Motor Transport Corps, owes its existence to a Mexican bandit named Francisco Villa, sometimes called “Pancho” for short. You may have heard of him. Though the officers who wear on their collars the insignia of the wheel and the winged helmet will probably disagree with this statement, asserting that their corps is an outgrowth of the Great War, it is, nevertheless, a fact that the present huge organization, which controls all the motor-driven transport of the American Army, had its beginning in the handful of trucks, barely a score in all, which ploughed their way across the sands of Chihuahua in the wake of Pershing’s little punitive column.

When Villa and his raiders swooped down upon the border settlement of Columbus on the night of March 8, 1916, there was not a single organized motor-truck unit in the army, our officers, most of them trained in the schools of Indian and Filipino warfare, insisting that no motor-driven vehicle was as sturdy and dependable as the old-time escort wagon and its four-mule team. The refusal of our staff authorities to recognize the advantages of motor transport is the more difficult to understand when it is remembered that for close on four years there had been unfolding before our eyes the countless object-lessons of civil life and of the war in Europe, every highway from the North Sea to the Alps being crowded with the motor-driven vehicles of the fighting armies.

The present Motor Transport Corps may be said to have been born when, three days after the Columbus raid, General Funston, in command of the Southern Department, telegraphed to Washington for authorization to form a number of motor-truck companies for service with the punitive expedition. The War Department acted promptly. The request was immediately approved, and within three days twenty-four trucks had been purchased, a force of civilian drivers had been recruited, and the entire outfit loaded aboard special trains. As soon as the trains reached Columbus the trucks were loaded with supplies and sent across the border to overtake the expedition, which was already well into northern Mexico. Notwithstanding the total absence of anything resembling roads, despite the deep sand, the extreme heat, and the inexperience of the drivers, the trucks caught up with the column before the supplies which it had taken from the United States were exhausted. From that moment the value of motor-driven vehicles for military purposes was firmly established in the minds of American officers, even the most hidebound old Indian fighters, who disapproved of everything new on principle, being compelled to admit that the mule must give way to the motor.

The first two motor-truck units proved so extremely efficient that the organization of others was begun, and by June 30 there had been formed fifteen companies in all. The personnel of these early motor-transport companies was civilian, the drivers and repair men being provided by the factories which supplied the trucks, but it quickly became apparent that the employment of civilians would not prove satisfactory because of their lack of discipline and the consequent difficulty of keeping them under control, the officers not knowing how to handle civilians. So, whenever possible, enlisted men who had had experience with motor vehicles or who possessed some mechanical aptitude were transferred to the truck companies to replace the civilians, the latter remaining on to give instruction in driving and maintenance. Maintenance is, I might add, perhaps the most important factor in the successful operation of motor vehicles, for broken-down cars must be repaired, worn parts must be replaced, and the vehicles must frequently be overhauled. In order to maintain in a state of efficiency the truck trains operating in Mexico, it was found necessary, therefore, to build repair-shops and to organize repair crews. Though the personnel of these shops, like the drivers, was at first largely civilian, it, too, was gradually replaced by enlisted men, so it may be said that by the opening of 1917 motor transportation had become a recognized branch of the military establishment, although it was not until some time after declaration of war that it was authorized for the army.

Although, upon our entry into the European war, preparations were immediately begun for the complete motorization of the various trains—ammunition, engineer, sanitary, and supply—which comprise the divisional trains, each of these sections was still controlled by the corps or department to which it pertained. In other words, the ammunition trains were controlled by the Ordnance Department so far as the procurement of vehicles and the supply of personnel was concerned; the engineer trains were under the control of the Corps of Engineers; the sanitary trains were under the Medical Corps, and only the supply trains came under the jurisdiction of the Quartermaster Corps. It must be understood, however, that the divisional trains were assigned to and became a part of the division itself, being, therefore, under the direct command of the divisional commander. As might have been expected, this system resulted in inefficiency and confusion because of municipal officers in control. Instead of all motor activities being directed by a single head, each of the staff departments using motor vehicles had its own ideas and worked along its own lines. Thus, the Corps of Engineers had designed and was manufacturing various types of vehicles adapted to engineering work. The Signal Corps was producing vehicles designed for carrying radio equipment, photographic laboratories, and the like. The Medical Corps was experimenting with various types of ambulances, dental wagons, and mobile laboratories, while the Ordnance Department was dividing its allegiance between the tractor type and the model known as the “Quad” or four-wheel drive. Thus it was that for many months after the declaration of war the motor activities of the army were distributed among several arms of the service, with the inefficiency and duplication of effort which invariably results from decentralization.

The necessity for a separate organization to handle motor transportation was first recognized by the A. E. F., and in December, 1917, General Pershing issued a general order creating a Motor Transport Service. The new service was described as a part of the Quartermaster Corps, and an assistant to the Chief Quartermaster was detailed as its chief. For all practical purposes, however, it became a separate organization. In the United States the transition was more gradual, it not being until August, 1918, that the Secretary of War authorized the creation of a Motor Transport Corps as a separate and distinct branch of the military establishment, Colonel Charles B. Drake, who was later made a brigadier-general, being named as its first chief. The new organization was built up along the same lines as the Motor Transport Service, the officers and men of the latter being transferred to similar positions in the new corps, thus enabling them to continue the performance of their duties without interruption or confusion. The effect was as though the Motor Transport Service was lifted bodily out of the Quartermaster Corps, renamed, and made completely independent, the only visible sign of the change being, however, that the officers and men changed their Quartermaster insignia for the winged helmet superimposed upon a motor-wheel which was adopted as the device of the new corps.

Under the new order all the motor transportation of the army, save only tractors used for artillery purposes, was embraced in the Motor Transport Corps. The Medical Corps, the Engineer Corps, the Quartermaster Corps, the Signal Corps, and the Department of Military Aeronautics, all of which had developed special types of vehicles for their respective needs, immediately turned over their equipment to the new organization. The designing of bodies was left to the several branches, but the designing of all types of chassis was included in the functions of the Motor Transport Corps. Among the duties of the new corps were the design, procurement, storage, maintenance, and replacement of all motor vehicles, though a few weeks later procurement was assigned to the Purchase, Storage, and Traffic Division of the office of the Quartermaster-General, with the proviso, however, that the Motor Transport Corps should prescribe the type and design of the vehicles supplied to it. The corps was thus enabled to insist that it be supplied only with the standardized military truck, the design of which had been achieved by the Motor Transport Service in spite of much opposition and after untiring effort. This arrangement also effectually prevented the purchase and use of vehicles of many different designs and put an end to the complicated and extravagant system of spare parts and supplies inseparable from the use of a multiplicity of types.

I might mention, in passing, that in the spring of 1917, just prior to our entry into the war, the automotive engineers of the United States met in Washington and, putting aside all thought of commercial rivalry or profit, or, indeed, of everything save patriotism, designed a motor-truck which combined the best features of the many trucks which were then being manufactured, placing at the disposal of the government designs and patents that were the result of heavy expenditures of time, money, and talent. This work of standardization was in charge of Mr. Christian Girl, who was probably better fitted for the task than any man in the United States. The result was a standardized military motor-truck which is generally admitted to be the most efficient vehicle of its kind in existence.

The efficiency of any motor-transport service, no matter how well equipped with vehicles, must depend primarily upon the efficiency of its personnel. The finest truck that mechanical genius can design and money can buy can be ruined in a few hours by the carelessness or ignorance of its driver. It was quickly realized, therefore, that, if the Motor Transport Corps was to give efficient service, its officers and men must be as carefully trained as their fellows in the combatant branches of the army. The first real training-school for Motor Transport officers was established by General Pershing in France, its students being recruited mainly from Americans who had gone overseas prior to our entry into the war and had entered the French service as camion and ambulance drivers. These men possessed much practical knowledge, gained in actual warfare, and a large percentage of them were given commissions in the Motor Transport Service of the A. E. F. The chief training-centre in the United States was at Camp Joseph E. Johnston, on the St. John’s River, near Jacksonville, Fla., and a smaller one was later organized at Camp Meigs, in the District of Columbia. Using as a basis of instruction the curriculum adopted by the A. E. F., the officers and men at these camps were given a very thorough course of training in all phases of motor-transport work, including road-training, tactics, maintenance and repair of cars, and a certain amount of infantry drill in order to inculcate discipline. But with the growth of the army increased training facilities became imperative, it being estimated that between 20,000 and 30,000 men per month would be required by the Motor Transport Corps. In fact, requirements from overseas for men for operations up to July 1, 1919, was placed at upward of 231,000 officers and men. In order to train these men and organize them into the proposed units, it was planned to establish motor-transport training-centres at Camp Bowie, Texas; Fort Sheridan, Illinois; Camp Frémont, California; Camp Wheeler, Georgia, and Camp Taylor, Kentucky, which, in conjunction with the schools already in operation at Camp Joseph E. Johnston and Camp Meigs, and other schools which had been established by the Committee of Education and Special Training, would have given a total monthly training capacity of 23,800 men. The signing of the Armistice put an abrupt end to this enormous training programme, but plans have already been perfected for the formation of a Motor Transport Reserve Corps, which, it is believed, will result in providing a large number of officers trained in motor-transport duties and ready for immediate service in the event that the United States should again go to war.

About six weeks before the signing of the Armistice a spectacular campaign was inaugurated in order to obtain for the corps recruits possessing the necessary technical and mechanical training. Officers and civilians were sent to the principal cities in the United States to open recruiting offices, though no funds were appropriated for office rent, clerical hire, supplies, or advertising, each recruiting officer being expected to exercise his ingenuity in procuring all of the above without cost to the government. But thanks to the co-operation and assistance rendered by the local Chambers of Commerce and Boards of Trade, and to the patriotism of the automobile manufacturers and newspapers, the campaign proved, in spite of the lack of funds, a remarkable success, there being received more than 50,000 applications for enlistment.

Shortly after the beginning of hostilities steps were taken toward the establishment of three great motor-transport centres: Camp Holabird, about twenty miles from Baltimore, on the shores of Chesapeake Bay; Camp Jessup, at Atlanta, Ga., and Camp Normoyle. The huge assembly and repair shops erected at these camps are perhaps the most complete plants of their kind in existence, being of permanent construction and adapted to the needs of the army for many years to come. At each of these camps storage facilities have been provided for the vast number of motor vehicles which will not be required under peace conditions, but which will be kept in constant readiness for use in an emergency. Practically all motor vehicles destined for service overseas passed through Camp Holabird, where they were uncrated, assembled, put in thorough running order, inspected, registered, and finally loaded aboard ship for transport to France. During the last summer of the war, when the shipment of motor vehicles was at its height, Camp Holabird was worth journeying a considerable ways to see, there being literally acres of vehicles, ranging all the way from huge artillery repair trucks, veritable machine-shops on wheels, to “flivvers” which unsuccessfully attempted to conceal their identity beneath coats of olive-drab. The paint-shops were, incidentally, one of the most interesting features of the camps, the paint being sprayed on the vehicles by means of air-brushes and a hose in little more time than it takes to tell about it. Thanks to this ingenious method, it did not take very much longer to paint a motor car or a truck than it does to polish a pair of shoes. Then there were the trimming-shops, where tops, curtains, boots, and cushions were turned out by the thousand; the supply depots, whose huge steel and concrete buildings were stacked to the ceilings with incredible quantities of tires, tubes, lamps, and other accessories; the repair-shops, with their forges, lathes, and travelling cranes; and the spare-parts department, where, thanks to a remarkably ingenious card-index system, there could be obtained without confusion or delay any duplicate part that might be called for, whether it was a new rear axle for a mobile repair-shop or a tiny cotter-pin for a motorcycle. Though these great shops had been in operation only a few months when the war ended, and though their personnel had been obtained anywhere, everywhere, almost at a moment’s notice, they were probably, everything considered, the best organized and most efficient plants of their kind in the world.

The Motor Transport Corps naturally resolves itself into two main branches: Park Service and Field Service. The first of these branches is subdivided, in turn, into four general types of parks: Reception, Organization, Replacement, and Repair. The Reception Park was usually established at, or near, a base port for the purpose of receiving motor vehicles for shipment abroad. Here the vehicles were uncrated, assembled, registered, and put in running condition. This done, the vehicle was sent on to an Organization Park, where vehicles and men first met, the latter coming from one of the Motor Transport Corps schools; here the various units were organized, and the personnel and material held in readiness for assignment. The function of a Replacement Park is, as its name signifies, to fill any deficiencies in equipment or personnel. Though this scheme of organization was quite generally adhered to in the A. E. F., each camp in the United States devoted to motor-transport activities may be said to have combined the functions of Reception, Organization, and Replacement Parks under a single head.

_Photograph by Signal Corps, U. S. A._]

_Photograph by Signal Corps, U. S. A._]

This means a job for the wrecking crew.

_Photograph by Signal Corps, U. S. A._]