The Iron Division, National Guard of Pennsylvania, in the World War

or Be

ads, and were enabled to seek cover and spread out along the river banks. The grim gray line, like an enormous, unclean caterpillar,

e and rifle-grenade and hand-grenade explosions rolled together in one treme

e defenders, whatever it meant to individuals, made no apprecia

gly inculcated in the men through months of training. Truly, it was "kill or be killed." Hand-to-hand, often breast-to-breas

a terrific "punch" on the point of his opponent's chin, just as a bullet from the rear struck home in his back. The rifle, falling from the hands of the German, struck the outflung arms of the Pennsylvanian. He seized it, even as he

warming enemy. No group knew how the others were doing. Many said afterwards they believed it was the end o

ith the liaison service. It was such a thing as is always likely to happen wher

d home to each of the four companies. The now famous "yielding defense" of the French had operated and their forces had fallen bac

rtainly the French must have sent word that they were about to fall back. Certainly the companies, as such, never received it. Possibly t

f heroic endeavor only little milling, twisting groups, at intervals of several tho

ered completely from the rest and taken prisoners. Lieutenant William R. Dyer, of Carney's Point, N. J., and Lieutenant Bateman, of

, also of Philadelphia, was still on his feet and pumping his rifle at top speed. From forty to fifty men of the company

always edging back to where they knew the support lines were. They literally fought their way

oing. When they were pressed so closely that they had to have more room, they

the party, so that when, after hours of this dauntless struggle, Lieutenant Schoch stood in front of headquarters, s

oods and scurried into the company lines, but there were s

leaving Captain Mackey and a dozen men utterly separated on one side. It was impossible for them to rejoin the company, so they di

cer remaining with the bulk of the company, became commander, but his r

n body of the company. Lieutenants Edward Hitzeroth, also of Philadelphia, and Walter L. Swarts, of Scranton, had disappeared,

the support line. They made it in the face of almost insurmountable odds and, what is more, they arrived with half a dozen p

ere better able to stand off the Germans. He himself took a rifle from the hands of a dead man and a supply of ammunition and clambered out

sought to deter them. All of this Lieutenant Wheeler performed while suffering intense pain from a wound of the hand, inflicted

l other Americans. They were given up for lost until the next night, when a message arrived that a patrol from another American unit on another part

t carried the corporal on his back, when the wounded man became unable to walk. Again they were forced to take shelter in a thicket, when parties of Germans appro

elphia, set out with a detail to carry the ammunition forward. They were trapped in a little hamlet by the advancing Germans. McFadden sent his men back

use of uniforms other than their own. Sergeant McFadden saw it was hopeless to try longer to blow up his ammunition and fled. He ran into a machine gun manned by three Germans. He took them at a

n, four dented his steel helmet and another shot the stock off his rifle, but he himself was untouched. He had taken off his outer shirt because of the heat. As he came up the hill toward his own lines, h

after time to charge the Huns with bayonets and rally the group repeatedly to keep it from disintegrating, Captain Fish, whose home is in New Brighton, with Lieutenant Claude W. Smith, of New C

t of it, but was scattered badly and drifted back to the regimental lines

ptain Truxal, of Meyersdale, Pa., and Lieutenants Wilbur Schell and Samuel S. Crouse w

er bank, when the German bombardment began. They dropped into shell holes. At the point where they lay, the wire remained intact and the Hun flood passed a

t it ourselves," said Martz, and his matter-of-fac

they had been quiet civilians, going about their peaceful trades. Martz had lived with his parents on a mountain farm in a remote part of Pennsylvania, six miles from the nearest railway. Add t

lusty yells. Groups of Germans before them, apparently believing they were being attacked from the flank by a strong force, fled. The seven men gained the shelter of the woods. For

ught they had come up with the company. But it was only Sergeant Robert A

ther on they met another American, who joined the party. He was "mad all through

Fritzes didn't see me. It came so sudden, the boys didn't have a chance to do anything. When I took a peek through the trees, about a million Germans were around, and

ted it was a job for only two men. As a companion he picked John J. Mullen, of Philadelphia. Mullen was not a former Guardsman. He was a selected man, sent from Camp Meade severa

home, in a country they never had seen before, cut loose from the little group of their comrades, turned their

now passed far to their rear. The two Americans circled around through the woods and lay in ambush for the party. The prisoners, because of

shooter. Once he had gone to camp with the West Virginia National Guard, just over the state line from his home, and

cked simultaneously. Both officers dropped dead. The prisoners looked about them, stunned with surprise. Martz and Mullen stepped out of the woods. There was no time for than

this time were broken up into rather small groups, the Americans no longer felt the necessity of skulking thr

a, Pa., who took command. He vetoed the daring rush through the Hun-infested woods by daylight and o

al that Corporal Martz and Private Mullen should be selected for the job when they promptly volunteered. With little further a

of the Pennsylvania Division were formed into one company for the time

these four companies were "cut to pieces," and this is why L and M companies, of the 109