1919 · [France
by [Woerner, Emil Milton]
[France, 1919. [73]pp. of manuscript in pencil and ink. 24mo. Black split-grain calf. Moderate wear to boards and extremities, occasional light soiling. 78th Infantry Division lightning bolt fabric insignia mounted on center leaf, three flowers pressed between leaves, newspaper clipping in rear pocket. Very good. A compelling diary by Emil Milton Woerner, recounting his service with a mobile field hospital on the Western Front during World War I. Apparently drafted, Woerner (1894- 1968) reported for duty with Company "A" of the 311th Infantry Regiment at Camp Dix, New Jersey on April 3, 1918. Although he does not go into detail about his beliefs in this diary, Woerner was a conscientious objector, and a few days after his arrival, he requested a "transfer to medical or other non- combat branch of service..." He was referred to the captain, who tried to convince him that the infantry "was the 'best and only' branch of the service and stated that my C.O. principles were pro-German. Gave him quite an argument and he finally referred me to Col. Stokes in a written communication." After convincing the colonel he was serious, the process began; in the meantime, Woerner applied for a "rear guard" position and was assigned as bookkeeper to the supply sergeant, but this was not the transfer he was looking for. The lieutenants kept trying to convince him to stay, and by mid-May, "Rumors of going abroad were everywhere prevalent. Every other day saw an overseas inspection of some kind." Finally, on May 21, "Just two days before Co. A left for embarkation, received my transfer to 309th Field Hospital, 303rd Sanitary Train." The 303rd Sanitary Train was part of the soon-to- be-renowned 78th Infantry Division, the "Lightning Division," which played a key role in the Meuse-Argonne offensive during the final push of the war. Incidentally, the unit he was originally assigned to (311th Infantry) was folded into the 78th Infantry, so it seems Woerner was destined for this regiment. His new hospital unit mobilized on June 3; they took trains to Jersey City, and embarked on the massive Cunard ocean liner, the Mauretania. Although they were packed into the former dining salon "like cattle," Woerner writes that he was able to stay above deck as they sailed through New York Harbor and saw "the Statue of Liberty fade behind us...." They reached Liverpool on June 11, took the train to Southampton, crossed the Channel to Le Havre, France, and then took a train to Vitrey-sur-Mance in Haute-SaƓne, arriving June 18, 1918. They remained for several weeks training and drilling, especially with gas masks, and then action began. In early September, they marched and drove some 140km north to "Tremblecourt in time to hear and see the first big American barrage which started at 1:00 A.M. in St. Mihiel sector." Although Woerner had avoided infantry service, he did not miss any of the horrors of war. From this point, his entries are briefer and more disjointed, often just lists of objects and people he encounters. On September 15, he writes: "Mortmere: German dugouts, railroads, trenches, dead Americans and Germans, gas alarms all nite, aeroplane battles, observation balloons." The next day, they proceed to Thiaucourt, which had just been taken by American forces: "...arrived Thiaucourt at 2:00 pm where we received our baptism of shell fire....Shells every 5 minutes, hospital in dugout, slept in dugouts. Nite of terror: shells, bombs, machine guns and gas." They kept moving along the front, often setting up mobile hospitals only to pack up a few hours later and move again to avoid new waves of shelling. They were finally able to stop for a while at St. Jacques, and "took over hillside dugouts for hospital....Surgical hospital at N.T.S.W. Good sleeping, many patients, operations...sterilizing room." Two weeks later, they're on the road again: "Left St. Jacques, motor lorries for Verdun front...big barrage on, held in reserve for div. entry." By October 12, Woerner and his troop are camped in the Argonne Woods, listening "in on another big barrage. Rumors of armistice and abdication of Kaiser. German dugouts, dead, graves. Saw grave of 'Werner.' A few days later, they reach Apremont where they "opened Gen. Hospital and had beau coup patients immediately after opening....Air battles, Mystery gun, Maj. Gen. McRae's visit [commander of 78th Infantry], Bombs, Shelling." Finally, on November 11: "Left on truck for Braux St Remey. Passed thru Ste. Menchould and heard that armistice had been signed." Woerner does not record much about the next seven months, but on May 15, he writes, "Left at 5:00 P.M. on 'Santa Barbara' bound for the USA...Shower, Storms." They reached Camp Dix at 3am on May 29, and later that day, Woermer makes his final entry: "Headed to Discharge Board at 1:00 P.M...." At the rear of the diary, Woerner has gathered a series of addresses, including two pages of addresses from individuals from Paris, followed by two pages of American addresses, and then a nineteen page section titled, "Personnel of 309 Field Hospital." The addresses are all written in different hands, presumably by the individuals themselves. World War I was the first time the federal government had to deal directly with the issue of conscientious objection to military service. The government did not allow men to hire a substitute or pay a commutation fee as they had in the past. The Selective Service Act of 1917 made allowances for conscientious objectors, but only for those who were members of a "well-recognized religious sect...whose existing creed or principles forbid its members to participate in war in any form...." Because of the ambiguous wording of the Act, draft boards were often arbitrary in whom they classified as C.O.s. The biggest problem though, was the lack of alternative service opportunities, since those who received C.O. status were not exempt from military service. Solutions varied from base to base, and it was not until March 1918, that President Wilson formally defined noncombatancy as service in the Medical, Quartermaster, or Engineering Corps. Emil Woerner did not sign his name to this diary and offered precious few clues to his identity. However, internal evidence has led to an identification of this diary as his. One entry in May, 1918 offers good clues to the author's identity. He spent a weekend on leave from Camp Dix, at home with "Ma, Pa, Karl & M.E.Z....Asked M.E.Z. to wait until I returned to civil life before entering into matrimony and she asked for time to consider. Walked to the station with M.E.Z. and had the last glance of Netherwood I was to have for some time." This suggests that the author lived near Netherwood Station in Plainfield, New Jersey, had living parents and a brother named Karl. In his second entry after arriving at Camp Dix, April 7, 1918, the diarist wrote "Sent an original joke to Judge." Judge was a weekly humor magazine which offered modest prizes to soldiers whose jokes were published. Knowing his regiment, a search for "311th" turned up a joke in the May 4, 1918 issue which won the $5 grand prize. The soldier was Private E.M. Woerner of the right company and regiment-and it was a joke about a clueless rookie who had just arrived yesterday. More research shows Woerner in the 1915 census with his parents and brother Karl; he registered for the draft from Plainfield, N.J.; and the 1920 census found him working in Manhattan as a salesman of silk hosiery, living with his wife Matilda E. Woerner, nee Zaisser. A very interesting World War I diary of an American who - despite his moral objections to the conflict - still saw plenty of action and carnage in France.
(Inventory #: WRCAM56117)