The president of the United States in 1917 promised to "follow experts in a war of experts." So he trusted the generals. Little did any of them know how little any of them knew.
The boys--the doughboys--were pictured on ships on the East Coast, waving to the cameras, full of smiles and life, maybe even exhilarated by the opportunity that war affords.
Make no mistake: War affords opportunity. Fortunes have been made. Reputations made. Political rewards are given back home after wars.
How many presidents of the United States have been generals first? Washington, Jackson, both Harrisons, Taylor, Grant, Eisenhower and others. They had the opportunity to get off the farm and into a reputation. And a going concern. The U.S. military provides for a lot of opportunity for advancement.
So the president in 1917-18 followed his experts. Right over a cliff. The boys, like many in that war, were sent a-charging over the berms. Into machine-gun fire. It's said that generals fight the last war. But you'd have thought that some of them would have studied Pickett's Charge. When flesh meets a concentrated volley of metal, it's never good for the infantryman.
The Americans were placed into the middle of The Great War when the Allied militaries of western Europe were in chaos. As General Pershing put up his tent and map table, his troops were rushed into action, often meeting beaten infantrymen of the British or French variety going in the opposite direction. The story goes that one French officer yelled at a Marine captain to retreat, and the Marine shouted back: "Retreat hell, we just got here!"
The Russians, suffering through a revolution, would soon be out of the war. The Germans & Co. could entirely focus on the western front. Poison gas was a main consideration, along with diseases that come from living knee-deep in water and human waste in the trenches.
Communication being what it was 100 years ago, officers often didn't know where their troops were. And sent messages to units that were no longer there, to do something no longer required, to fight an enemy long gone.
And the Germans, alerted to the number of Americans coming ashore--by the free and independent American press, no less--knew their time was limited, so they threw everything at the green units. They called their summer offensive of 1918 the Friedensturm, which translates into Peace Offensive. Artillery bombardments were so frequent and lasted so long that many soldiers in the pits and trenches went insane.
It wasn't a pleasant experience, being an American soldier at that time.
THE TACTIC was called the Rolling Barrage or the Creeping Barrage. The experts--the generals--in the First World War found out that rushing into machine-gun fire was considered, by the troops at least, poor form. So the idea was to clear the ground in front of advancing troops with artillery and have troops follow the bombardment immediately, as it was happening.
To make such a tactic effective, the infantryman had to be right behind the falling artillery. This made sense on paper.
But what if the infantryman advanced too fast? He'd stroll right into his own artillery rounds. If he didn't advance fast enough? The enemy would retake fighting positions and cut him to bits. Or if the infantry advanced too fast at times and too slow at other times--that is, if the infantry units advanced normally--then they might have to wait in no-man's land and hope the German gunners didn't see them first.
In what can only be described as unusual arrogance even for mankind, the First World War was initially called The War to End All Wars. Some even called it The Great War. And it was, until a greater one came along.
Not only did troops in Europe have to dodge each other, but also the flu. Of all the talk in modern America about the current pandemic, it sometimes goes unmentioned that the pandemic of 1918 happened as Americans by the hundreds of thousands were called up for war. Many families got a death notice without their doughboy ever getting on a boat.
After several years of war and death, and one year of American involvement that ended it all, the guns went (mostly) silent on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. That would be today, Nov. 11. A holiday would be added later.
THE STORY goes that the president who followed his expert generals marked the one-year anniversary of what they called Armistice Day by inviting a few hundred thousand veterans to the White House for a meal. They may not have called them photo ops at the time, but they still had them. The president of the United States had once upon a time been a president of a university. He knew from politics.
At the time, folks were learning new ways to can food for long-term storage. If you thought the microwave made cooking easier a few years back, imagine the first time that Mother took meat out of a can. No slaughtering, no skinning, no mess. What a change that must have been.
And in 1919, on Armistice Day, one particular dish was all the rage. In one bite you could get meat, dairy, grain and veggies. So the main course the president served to the veterans that day was . . . .
Ravioli.
The president and his guests celebrated the first anniversary of Armistice Day by eating ravioli from cans. And we imagine it was a special meal in 1919. Today, why not celebrate Veterans Day with an all-American meal like ravioli? Or maybe tacos. Or, if you prefer, moo goo gai pan. With a German beer.
The unofficial start of summer for Americans every year is Memorial Day, in which we remember those who died in our nation's wars. Today, however, we can start the unofficial cold season celebrating not just those who died in the trenches, or in the deserts, or in the skies or oceans, but all those who served in uniform. From the doughboys who ate ravioli-in-a-can to those who are serving this very day, standing on the wall for the rest of us.
From those who've stormed beaches to those who've never fired a shot in anger. From those who've dug grenade sumps in Vietnam to those who only dug them in practice at Fort Sill. From those who flew helicopters in Afghanistan to those who've pushed the necessary paperwork back home to get the helicopters to Afghanistan. If you've honorably served in the United States military, you should be honorably thanked. Today we do so.
This holiday might have started on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, but, like many American holidays, it has evolved. During this pandemic, it's been a while since we've seen a parade. But Americans can still snap off a sharp salute.