Stories of the Forgotten Heroes

An American Tragedy: The Heroes of the Argonne Campaign

When the United States of America's entry into the Great War was announced, to the Entente it came not as a surprise, but more as the final chorus in the tragedy of all humanity. The British Empire sighed in relief but the French, ever distrustful of their own politicians and allies soon found themselves hoping that this intervention could secure a lasting victory. The end of the war was on the horizon but back in the States, the population looked at it more objectively, especially since the news coming from the front was not censored. The machinations and the economic interests had put the President and the Congress in a difficult position, one which, as they soon found out, was as vicious as the war. First came the breaking news regarding the Zimmerman Telegram which had been doctored enough to look that the Germans were serious enough in their intent to woo the Mexican Republic against the US. President Wilson thought that it would be enough to spur the Americans to take a stand in the war, and it fortunately did. As he sat in the Oval Office he saw the investments and the loans the Americans had given to the French and the British. If the Germans won, the money would be lost, and that was something he could not allow.

It was the 1st of June 1918 when one of the deadliest engagements the US Army took part in the Great War began; the Battle of Belleau Wood. The sun sat comfortably on its perch and illuminated the human tragedy unfolding before its gaze. At the Main Headquarters of the US Army, there was a huge commotion, made possible by the vast amounts of equipment that had to be properly distributed. The soldiers of the New Continent were preparing to battle in the Old One.

We'll give them hell, yelled Private Jonah Hardwood from the top of his lungs. They won't know what hit'em and showed a clenched fist to the imaginary enemy in front of his eyes as he passionately discussed with his fellow soldiers about the incoming battle. This was his brother, the most boisterous man he ever knew. They were heading for the first time into the battle. Months ago they had been in Mobile, sipping iced tea and laughing that the war in Europe would be done by the time they reached the Old Continent. Now they lived in a corner of France, with no clear picture of the situation. Being the eldest the Recruitment Office sent his brother to the Assault Corps which simply meant he would be in the thick of the battle, always in a race against death. The other became part of the Medical Corps. I am the latter. The quiet one, which everybody dismissed as weak, effeminate, not good enough. I had to prove them wrong. In fact, this had been the sole reason for my enlistment, just to show my parents that I could surpass my dear sibling. Two months of war and the balance was already beginning to incline in his favour.

He had luck and brains. The Top Brass liked that, and there were certain advantages to reap. Jonah continued his passionate monologue whilst, Thomas prepared his backpack, which he had to fill before each offensive with a generous amount of bandages, syringes, and morphine. The harsh environment was going to create many wounded, and the German entrenchment meant that they knew how to defend their positions even if the US Troops had the upper hand. Knowing his brother better than most, he had woken up in the morning just to tell his unit that he was the first that was ready to face the enemy.

A blatant lie since Jonah had been part of the warfare a couple of days ago, when they had helped, together with the French, liberate a town. When he had come back his face was white as a sheet. It was only his recklessness that gave him power now. On his left side, his weapon stood. A Mondragon Rifle was bought by his father before he left for Europe. He did the same for Jonah, who was now the proud possessor of a 12 gauge shotgun. His brother had complained that the standard army weapons were not fit, and their father obliged. Coming from a good Southern Family meant that liberties could be taken. The familiar buzzing ceased as Black Jack Pershing came to his troops and simply told them that the Meuse-Argonne Offensive was to begin exactly at 9:00 hours sharpish and that any soldier that would come back in the trenches would get shot on charges of cowardice.