Sidney D. Light's WWI Diary, Postcards & Letters, 329th Battery Book Accounts

As civilians we had always imagined that artillery was intimately associated with horses and guns, but to our surprise we found these were conspicuous for their absence. Captain Frazier evidently had the same ideas that we had on the subject, and set out to remedy the deficiency to the best of his ability. He managed to get the loan of an ancient member of the equine family and the 1917 class in "Horseology" was formed. The class was intensely interested in horses, as some of the questions proved. Private Doyle was very anxious to know which was the horse’s head, as his father was in the livery business and had advised him to become a stable sergeant in the army after learning all the parts of the horse. Private Daw, being greatly interested in the general appearance of the genus equus, asked how the horse kept himself clean. A little later he was introduced to a currycomb and brush and found the answer. Day by day the horse lectures continued and we gradually became full-fledged horsemen, as far as pictures and the drill regulations would permit.

When it came to the matter of guns, it was a different case. We were unable to beg, borrow or steal anything that even looked like a gun; but, between the competence of our officers and the policing ability of the men, we constructed some rare and beautiful fixtures which took the place of the 3-inch guns on which we were supposed to drill. The greatest problem of the intelligent young cannoneers, Lieutenant Dukes found, was to "Call off" correctly; and, when it came to changing posts, the result reminded one of a mob of grasshoppers gone crazy with the heat. During the change-post exercise, many arguments took place between Privates Lucker and Giftopolus, the latter would insist that the number following five was four. However Lucker was very accommodating and after a short while assumed the attitude of a frog just about to jump, so that if he saw a vacant post he was always ready to hop into it.

After "picture horse" lectures, "tar paper" gun drills, squads right and squads left, our athletic officer, Lieutenant Dukes, known as the fastest walker in the battery, decided that some four or five mile hikes would be beneficial to our brain development; and after one of these each afternoon, we called it a day–unless new recruits came in. In this event we were entertained by the Captain, who read us a few selections from that surprising book known to all soldiers as "Such penalty as a Court Martial may direct."

When we came to camp we found that Guard Duty was being done by a detachment of the 32nd National Guard. Their removal to a southern camp made it necessary for the recruits to take up guard duty and being the best posted officer on the subject, Lieutenant Curtiss was assigned the task of making us familiar with the manual of interior guard duty. We well remember going out on the parade ground to practice on various piles of scrap lumber. After each man had proved his ability to recite the general orders correctly, we were put on regular guard duty.

One night Lieutenant Curtiss was inspecting the guard as Officer of the Day and was commanded to halt by Private Colacicco–"Colly" of subsequent wind-jamming fame. Curtiss halted, expecting the regulation question "Who is there?" but it did not come. Instead he was commanded to halt a second time. Thinking Colacicco was just nervous, he attempted to prompt him by asking "Well, what comes next?" Like a flash came the answer, "I will call halt the third time and then fire." Needless to say, Lieut. Curtiss was very glad he butted in when he did without waiting for developments.

About this time we were assigned to our new barracks at the extreme western edge of camp and, as they were not quite ready for occupancy, we sent out a detail to guard them each night. After a few nights–every one of which was wet--we came to the conclusion that {altho} it was called "interior guard duty" it was done very much outdoors. During our period of guard duty at the new barracks it was orders to challenge all civilians in order to locate any booze they might be bringing into camp–as we did not wish them to drink it all themselves. At least that was the way Private May looked at it when he rounded up a civilian carpenter who was bringing in two quarts of the "very best." May thought it would come in very nice for the use of the guards. But Acting Corporal Price convinced the acting sergeant of the guard–Gustafson–that the only thing we dare do was test the quality by a deep inhalation and turn it over to the Captain, as we were told that the Medical Dept. had use for the same. Just then a call came in, "Corporal of the Guard, Post No. 9." At double time Dickey and Price made their way to the aforesaid post and were just in time to rescue Private Sullivan from one of the many latrine excavations located around the barracks. When questioned as to what he was doing down there, "Sully" explained that he was taking charge of his post and all government property in view and, as the bottom of the hole was not in view, he was investigating. At last Private Sullivan was walking his post in a military manner and, in the stillness of the night, we overheard the Officer of the Day asking the sentry on post No. 8 if he "had" his general orders. If you remember Private Reading–and we all do–you will not be surprised to learn that he took them from his pocket and handed them to the O.D.

At last our new home was sufficiently complete for us to move into it and, on October 30th, 1917, we packed our belongings into our blankets (we had not then been introduced to the haversack) and left 419 for 1291. By this time we were getting into the army way of doing things and it did not take us long to set up the wood stoves, which were the source of heat until the steam plants were completed, and get to "setting pretty."

During November our ordinary drills were supplemented by pick and shovel work and we gained considerable knowledge as to how dug-outs were constructed. An elaborate system of defense work was planned which included dug-outs of sufficient capacity to house an entire battalion. But before this was completed–on one of the coldest days in December–we received an order to draw from the remount station the horses needed to make us into a real artillery outfit and (we thought) relieve us from further infantry drill. The advent of the horses gave some of us who had had no previous experience with them a chance to practice the lessons we had learned by heart from Lieutenant Shields. That great command which will never be forgotten–"Stand to Heel!"–was given for the first time. Private Lenhardt says he had no chance to obey them, as "Whiskey Dick" had a drill regulation all his own which called for a commissioned officer to handle. So, after Lenhardt was picked up, Lieutenant Clarke came to the rescue and TOLD another man how to groom.