OMG - a little German Family History

Without telling me she was doing so, or even that she had the information, my mother mailed me a substantial box filled with wonderful family history. If I were to guess, I'd say a lot of it was used to create the book "Our Heritage" written/assembled/gathered by my grandparents after WWII and privately published in 1955. Much of it, is 'modern', though - being birth announcements and news paper clippings about weddings and engagements. I also have some items in German which I will need to scan and post to the German Genealogy Facebook page I use and where I find very thoughtful and kind fellow users. As I write this, I realize that much of the files my mother gave me are for my mother's maternal line, the Dommerichs and the Siedenburgs.

Louis Ferdinand Dommerich - immigrant

Reinhard Siedenburg - first generation

As I write this and think about the current immigration situation here in the United States, I reflect on the fact that these men developed wonderful careers and amassed some wealth for their families and participated in the US economy. L.F. Dommerich had a dry goods store, Oelbermann, Dommerich & Co. and R. Siedenburg was the President of the New York Cotton Exchange. They both participated significantly with New York German banks and Insurance companies. It seems perhaps I have not written about these men yet, but I wrote about the Siedenburg immigrant here. 

I seem to have reflected a bit more on the Dommerichs - examples are here and here.

Oddly, though, some of the daughters of the Siedenburg line choose to take their father's money and head back to Germany and hitch themselves to some wealthy industrialists or titles.

(Researching the spelling of LF Dommerich's partner I found the link above. I will have to contact Mr. Walter Grutchfield to see what his connection is with the dry goods store.)

President Wilson appears before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee

I took this summary of a bit of history from the History Channel.

On August 19, 1919, in a break with conventional practice, U.S. President Woodrow Wilson appears personally before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to argue in favor of its ratification of the Versailles Treaty, the peace settlement that ended the First World War.

The previous July 8, Wilson had returned from Paris, France, where the treaty’s terms had been worked out over a contentious six months. Two days later, he went before the U.S. Senate to present the Treaty of Versailles, including the covenant of the League of Nations, the international peace-keeping organization that Wilson had envisioned in his famous “Fourteen Points” speech of 1917 and had worked for so adamantly in Paris. “Dare we reject it?” he asked the senators, “and break the heart of the world?”

The 96 members of the Senate, for their part, were divided. The central concern with the treaty involved the League of Nations. A crucial article of the league covenant, around which much debate would center in the weeks to come, required all member states “to respect and preserve as against external aggression the territorial integrity and existing political independence of all Members of the League.” This principle of collective security was thought by many to be an obstruction to America’s much vaunted independence. At least six Republican senators, dubbed the “Irreconcilables,” were irrevocably opposed to the treaty, while nine more were “Mild Reservationists” whose most important concern about the treaty, and specifically the League of Nations, was that American sovereignty be protected. Some three dozen Republicans were uncommitted as of yet. While most Democrats publicly went along with Wilson, many privately thought more along the lines of the Mild Reservationists.

So things stood on July 31, when the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, headed by the Republican Senator (and Wilson’s nemesis) Henry Cabot Lodge, began six weeks of hearings on the Versailles Treaty. Lodge’s Republicans had a majority of only two in the Senate, and Wilson could conceivably have won over the moderates among them—the Mild Reservationists and those undecided—to his side, thus building a coalition in favor of ratification, by accepting some reservations. Wilson was absolutely unwilling, however, to accept any degree of change or compromise to the treaty or to his precious League of Nations. His mental and physical health already deteriorating over that summer, Wilson broke tradition to make a personal appearance before the committee on August 19, making it clear that he continued to stand firm on all points.

Four days later, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee voted on the first of many amendments to the treaty—the reversal of the award to Japan of the Shantung Peninsula, and its return to Chinese control. Furious, Wilson decided to take his case directly to the American people. On September 2, 1919, he began a whistle-stop tour across the country, sometimes making as many as three speeches in one day. The strain of the trip destroyed his health; suffering from exhaustion, he returned to Washington in late September, and the rest of the tour was canceled. On October 2, back at the White House, Wilson suffered a massive stroke that left him partially paralyzed; he would never effectively function as president again.

He continued to influence the proceedings on the treaty, however, all the way from his sickbed. The treaty made its way through the Senate all through October and part of November, as a total of 12 amendments were defeated by Democrats and moderate Republicans. Lodge marshaled most of the Republicans together, and their votes were enough to attach a number of reservations before assembling a vote on ratification—the most crucial was attached to Article X, saying the U.S. would not act to protect the territorial integrity of any League member unless Congress gave its approval. Wilson, on his sickbed, remained determined; when told of the reservation, he said “That cuts the very heart out of the treaty.” After Wilson expressed his vehement opposition to ratification on these terms, the Senate took a vote on Lodge’s motion. It was defeated by a combination of the majority of the Democrats, loyal to Wilson, and the Republican Irreconcilables, who opposed ratification in any form. A last-ditch effort by moderates to find a compromise came close to succeeding—against Wilson’s best efforts to block it—and when the Senate voted on March 19, 1920, on a new ratification resolution, 23 Democrats voted in favor, and the resolution passed. It failed to win the necessary two-thirds majority, however, and the Senate consequently refused to ratify the Treaty of Versailles.

Though Wilson, the newly anointed winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, bemoaned the rejection of the treaty, he never admitted any doubts about his resolute unwillingness to compromise. Though the United States later signed separate treaties with Germany, Austria and Hungary, it never joined the League of Nations, a circumstance that almost certainly contributed to that organization’s inefficacy in the decades to follow, up until the outbreak of the Second World War.

Tribes

Sonofabitch, if I wasn't complaining to my friends last night about not being a part of a tribe... (Obviously it has been on my mind after reading that article about the guilds in the June 3rd edition of The Week Magazine.) And then the very next day this review of a new book entitled Tribe comes out printed in the Guardian UK, forwarded to me by the very friend listening to me bitch.

I guess, actually, it has been on my mind for a long time, as researching my German branches I learned that the early German settlers in New York clearly helped one another with organizations and politics. One of my great, great grandfathers was a founder of several banks and insurance companies. There is nothing today that I might rely on... even family is a little too dispersed to be counted on. (And, of course there is this scam among amateur genealogists of people claiming to be your cousin and then asking for financial support.)  

Photo taken from here

During John Ford’s celebrated western film The Searchers, John Wayne’s character spends years hunting for his niece Debbie, kidnapped as a child by Comanche Indians.

When he finally finds her, she initially wants to stay with her Comanche husband rather than return home.

Although shocking in the film, it’s historically accurate. White people captured by American Indians (author Sebastian Junger’s preferred name for Native Americans) commonly chose to stay with their captors - and the book cites a case of a captive woman who hid from her would-be rescuers.

Even more astonishingly, from the earliest days of Europeans in America, settlers of both sexes ran away to join Indian tribes. This wasn’t just a few people, it was hundreds and hundreds. The practice was so rife that in the early 1600s settler leaders made it an offence with harsh punishments, but over the following centuries people still ran off in huge numbers.

And it hardly ever happened the other way. Indians didn’t want to join white society.

The attraction, argues Junger, was the sense of community, the importance of the tribe, evident in other primates and in primitive human societies. The superficial attractions of American Indian life were obvious: sexual mores were more relaxed, clothing was more comfortable, religion less harsh.

But mostly it was the structure of Indian society that appealed. It was less hierarchical, essentially classless and egalitarian. As the people were nomadic, personal property hardly mattered, since it was limited to what you or your horses could carry.

What changed this natural way of living for humans was first agriculture, then industry. Accumulation of personal property led to people doing what they thought best for themselves, rather than for the common good. But, suggests Junger, we’re not happy like this. We’re wired to the lifestyle of the tribe.

Take the London Blitz during World War II. Before it began the government feared there would be riots and maybe even revolution as people fought one another for space in bomb shelters or for food.

In fact, exactly the reverse happened. People from different classes mixed in a way they hadn’t before and joined together in the face of a common enemy.
Historians credit the ‘spirit of the Blitz’ as the cause of the Labour landslide victory in the 1945 election, its strong feeling for community leading to the foundation of the NHS and a robust welfare state.

Those caught up in the bloody conflict in Bosnia often say they were happier during the war. The reason, they say, was they all pulled together, felt connected and part of something bigger than themselves.Junger, an American journalist and former war correspondent, gives many examples of what our modern way of living has cost us. In a modern city or suburb you can go through an entire day meeting only strangers. As affluence and urbanisation rise, rates of suicide and depression go up. According to the World Health Organisation, people in wealthy countries suffer eight times the depression rate of those in poorer ones. But when we revert to the tribe, things improve.

Junger spent time embedded with U.S. troops in Afghanistan, and says he was never alone there. Soldiers slept a dozen to a shelter. You couldn’t stretch out an arm without touching someone. Men of all colours, classes and creeds bonded as they had to look out for one another.

In a tribe the survival of the individual depends upon the survival of the group. The lack of this brotherhood is what makes it so hard for returning combat veterans to reintegrate into contemporary, fragmented societies.Community spirit in the U.S. rocketed after 9/11. The suicide rate dropped dramatically. There were no rampage shootings in public places like schools and colleges for two years.

Interestingly, such shootings happen only in middle-class rural or suburban areas. There has never been one in a poor inner-city location, where gangs provide a tribal sense of belonging.

This sense of bonding with the larger group begins almost at birth. In less developed countries, children sleep with or in close proximity to their parents and often an extended family group.

It’s only in Northern European countries (and the U.S.) that small children sleep alone. It’s only here that they go through a well-known developmental stage of bonding with stuffed animals or so-called ‘comfort’ blankets.

In Junger’s small, but convincingly argued, book he quotes the self-determination theory, the things necessary for contentment. People need to feel competent at what they do. They need to feel authentic in their lives.

Above all, they need to feel connected with others. It’s a good starting point for rethinking the way we live our troubled modern lives.

In the book I mentioned the other day, New Orleans: Race and Americanization, at least one of the essayists mentions how enslaved Africans would flee to the Indigenous Peoples, in this case the Choctaws and the Chickasaws, but it wasn't a matter of "sexual mores were more relaxed, clothing was more comfortable, religion less harsh", obviously.

Here's an update... I was looking back on some old posts and apparently I was bitching about tribes (or not being a part of one) way back in May 2015

Johann Christoph Dommerich - lived in the mid 17th century

I started thinking about Johann Christoph Dommerich, 'the first of the line whom certain knowledge exists." (Of course, from where? Who has this knowledge?) The book Our Colonial and Continent Ancestors: The Ancestry of Mr. and Mrs. Louis William Dommerich reveals that "he was a citizen and master boot-maker at the town of Erfurt, Germany and lived during and after the middle of the seventeenth century. He married Maria Magdalene Bode and had a son of the same name as his own..."

That's all I have to go on.

With that information, I put together a little outline:

Erfurt in 1650 (Taken from Wikipedia)

1. Johann was born in the middle of the 17th century in Erfurt, Germany
1. There was a University in Erfurt – being in existence from 1379
1. Means educated people
2. People from all over the area; cosmopolitan environment
2. Erfurt was the capital of Thuringia and geographically the center of modern Germany (which of course does not come about until 1871)
1. The city is still intact and it is a medieval city (see above)
2. The city was situated on the Via Regia, a medieval trade and pilgrims road network
1. Again, lots of different people blowing through town
3. The city lost its independence in 1664, the time when Johann was wandering through the streets
4. The Electorate of Mainz built a fortress on Petersburg Hill between 1665 and 1726 ‘to control the city and instituted a governor to rule Erfurt.'
3. The cathedral has been there for 1,200 years
1. Martin Luther was ordained in this Cathedral in 1507
4. The Ottoman Empire was expanding during this time and was held back at the Battle of Vienna in 1683
2. Johann was a citizen
1. Does this mean he owned land?
3. Johann was a master boot maker
1. Is this a respected profession?
2. Would he be educated if he were a master bootmaker? 
4. Wife was Maria Magdalene Bode

Photographs taken from Wikipedia.

Alter of the Cathedral

Cathedral on the left

German Family Research

My grandmother privately published a book called Our Heritage in 1955. I found many of the books she used as source material, including a book entitled Our Colonial and Continental Ancestors: The Ancestry of Mr. and Mrs. Louis William Dommerich.

I confess I haven't studied the bibliography of that book; I have a terribly reproduced copy of the book, though an aunt has an original book, so I might go ahead and check there.

However, my grandmother claims that a Dommerich married a Heusinger von Waldegg. I am trying to make/document that connection. I have been using the resources of a German Genealogy Facebook page and when asking questions I did get a mildly snarky answer that 'family stories are fun, but rarely is there any truth.' Now, why would one need to say something like that? BUT, it seems that perhaps the von Waldegg is a royal line.... hence the snarkiness. Though I did not know that, of course. And, I haven't yet documented the connection, so perhaps my grandmother was trying for a royal line! Though she never, ever said anything to me about it, nor to any of my relatives, and if it were a fun family story, then I should have gotten to enjoy some of that fun, right?

I was kindly pointed to a website which had the line, with names similar though spelled differently, that brought me down to exactly the point I needed to be, the parents of the bride, Johanne Katharine Heusinger von Waldegg, but this web site claims no children sprang from the union! Ha! So no little Johanne to marry lonely little Christoph Carl Dommerich!

Unfortunately my German in nonexistent... so I don't know what this website is. How reliable is the information contained in this web site? I have posed the question to a fellow user of the Facebook group and hopefully I will get an answer.

1919 - January List of Sections

And now you know why I always knew where Herb was. I found this at the National Archives.

Unspeakable Hun

Ok, so I found this for a Louis I Fox:


Wish I had more information about him, as Herb doesn't give us anything to work with. As I think about this... not sure this is the right guy. I mean, why would Herb know a shoemaker 20 years his senior?

Herb is still in Epense.

Perhaps Nellie Jane's trip was to visit her nephew Charles Cornell in Hasbrouk Heights, New Jersey.

And here we have the New York Time's headline on this day...

October 20, 1918

Dear Mother,

The mail of yesterday brought me your letters of September 22^nd, and I was very glad to get them as usual.

I had also a letter from Karolyn, one from Harry and one from one Louis I. Fox, whom I take it is Irving Fox, “Louis I” probably being a government camouflage like my “Charles H.” he is with the 17^th Field Artillery and I take it, has been here a couple of months or so.

I was glad to hear that you had received the first installment on my allotment. From now on I think you will probably get it every month.

The weather is frightful – it rains most of the time. Of course the sun does come out now and again but not for a long enough time to dry up the mud. And, Lord what mud! If it’s more than an inch or two deep one is apt to find himself stuck tight if he doesn’t keep moving. This is where those rubbers you made me buy last winter come in handy. How I have blessed you for that! Of course I have boots but its awfully hard on my feet to wear them steadily.

Talk of immediate peace has died down but it can’t be very far away. Every day the unspeakable Hun gets another push back towards his own territory and every day he loses fairly heavily in men and materiel. And I’m inclined to think that that will continue practically all winter. I don’t believe Foch intends to lie down and wait for Spring. On the other hand, it’s very difficult to advance in the winter because of the difficulties of transportation and the necessity of providing some shelter for the troops. In the summer one can sleep in the open, but in the winter it’s a different proposition.

Whatever gave you the idea I haven’t heard from Tom? As a matter of fact I’ve had several letters from him.

I sent you my Christmas package slip in my last letter. Hope you get it before it’s too late.

The whole division is still taking a much-needed rest and probably won’t be doing anything for some time to come until it gets back in to shape.

Did I tell you I had a letter from Charles telling me of your visit. He seemed awfully pleased to have had you. He speaks very confidently of having me come in with him when I get back. Says he knows he can work it and that it will be a beautiful opportunity. Certainly it would be a desirable connection but there’s time enough to think of it after the war.

Your affectionate son,

Herb

Now where might Nellie Jane have gone on her trip?

Herb is in this mysterious place, Somme Py, until the 16th of October.

See how valuable hand knit socks are???? We should all be so lucky to have someone love us enough to knit us some socks.

October 9, 1918

Dearest Mother,

This is the letter I promised you on the card I wrote several days ago. As every one in the world knows now the French troops are advancing along the lines at all points. We happen to be at a point where a strong effort is being made – and made quite successfully. At present I’m sleeping in a dugout that was being used by a German colonel two weeks ago and at that the actual line is a good ways ahead. So you see considerable progress has been made. The country hereabouts is absolutely desolate the Germans had held it for four years – up till two weeks ago. The soil is mostly chalk and guess is pretty scarce now so most of the landscape is dirty white. All this district was once a forest but what trees haven’t been destroyed by shell fire have been cut down by the Germans so the country is practically bare. One surprising thing to me is the lack of good roads behind the German lines. The French have gangs of German prisoners out widening and repairing the old roads and building new ones in order to [prepare?} for the immense traffic of all kinds.

We were out of touch with the mail man for some time, but we have a system now whereby he leaves our mail at a town some 15 miles back of here and collects whatever there is to go out.

Headquarters is turning down all requests for shipments from the States of any articles that can be bought in France or are issued by the Government. Heavy socks are issued – of course they’re not hand knitted but that fact isn’t considered to cut any ice. So I guess there’s no way for me to get those socks. I’d certainly like to have them, too.

The Posts + Times come in quite regularly. I got one package yesterday and one about a week ago – and they always come in very handy. Letters, however, haven’t been very plentiful. However I did get those telling all about your trip and was very glad that you had such a pleasant time. I hope you, Mother, got a good rest. I was awfully glad to have those pictures of Olive – after I’d figured out who the young lady might be. My faith how she has grown. I hope you’ll have a good one of Marine to send me and I would like to have one of you and Dad and Harry.

Your affectionate son,
Herbert

Germany telegraphs President Wilson seeking armistice

From the History Channel...

In the early hours of October 4, 1918, German Chancellor Max von Baden, appointed by Kaiser Wilhelm II just three days earlier, sends a telegraph message to the administration of President Woodrow Wilson in Washington, D.C., requesting an armistice between Germany and the Allied powers in World War I.

By the end of September 1918, the Allies had made a tremendous resurgence on the Western Front, reversing the gains of the previous spring’s massive German offensive and pushing the German army in eastern France and western Belgium back to its last line of defenses, the so-called Hindenburg Line. Stunned and despondent, German General Erich Ludendorff, chief architect of that final spring offensive, reversed his previous optimism about the German military situation and demanded at a crown council meeting on September 29, that Germany seek an immediate armistice based on the terms President Wilson had laid out in his famous Fourteen Points address in January 1918. Feeling that the army’s leadership had completely usurped the government, Chancellor Georg von Hertling immediately resigned; Kaiser Wilhelm subsequently appointed his second cousin, Prince Max von Baden, to the post.

As soon as von Baden arrived in Berlin to take office on October 1, he made it clear that he had no intention of admitting defeat until Germany had regained at least some ground on the battlefield; in this way he hoped to retain some powers of negotiation with the Allies. On October 3, however, Paul von Hindenburg, the German army’s chief of staff and head of the Third Supreme Command—as Germany’s military leadership was known—reiterated Ludendorff’s advice, stating that “The German army still stands firm and is defending itself against all attacks. The situation, however, is growing more critical daily, and may force the High Command to momentous decisions. In these circumstances it is imperative to stop the fighting in order to spare the German people and their allies unnecessary sacrifices. Every day of delay costs thousands of brave soldiers their lives.”

Von Baden disagreed with Hindenburg, telling him that too early an armistice could mean Germany would lose valuable territory in Alsace-Lorraine and East Prussia, which had been implicit under the terms of the Fourteen Points, despite Wilson’s expressed desire for a “peace without victory.” Deciding to seek his own way apart from the Supreme Command, von Baden brought two Socialist members of the German Reichstag into his cabinet; they too, appraising the growing anti-war feeling on the home front and in the government, advised the chancellor to seek an armistice. On October 4, heeding their advice, von Baden telegraphed his request to Washington.

Wilson’s response, in notes of October 14 and 23, made it clear that the Allies would only deal with a democratic Germany, not an imperial state with an effective military dictatorship presided over by the Supreme Command. Neither Wilson nor his even less conciliatory counterparts in Britain and France trusted von Baden’s declaration of October 5 that he was taking steps to move Germany towards parliamentary democracy. After Wilson’s second note arrived, Ludendorff’s resolve returned and he announced that the note should be rejected and the war resumed in full force. After peace had come so tantalizingly close, however, it proved even more difficult for Germans—on the battlefield as well as on the home front—to carry on. Within a month, Ludendorff had resigned, as the German position had deteriorated still further and it was determined that the war could not be allowed to continue. On November 7, Hindenburg contacted the Allied Supreme Commander, Ferdinand Foch, to open armistice negotiations; four days later, World War I came to an end.

I found several letters which I hadn't transcribed....

I am working on a project with the letters and I am confirming that I have made a copy and transcribed all the letters. I am delighted that I am being so diligent because of course I have discovered several that I overlooked.

I still don't know Karolyn's last name, though; that is still a big mystery. (I tried to find a Karolyn White, but no other pieces fell in to place - no brother Edwin. I am thinking maybe Herb met her at Syracuse... was Syracuse coeducational at the time? I just emailed an Archivist at Syracuse who helped me in the past; I am hoping she might have some time again now... I do recognize that the semester just began, but my fingers are crossed. I sent her a picture of handsome Herb, so I am hoping that will tug at her heartstrings!)

I did learn that Syracuse accepted women in the 19th century, so there is a chance Herb met her there. Wouldn't that be great?

Section 580 are in Suippes when Herb writes this letter.

Doctor Fairlee performed Herb's mother's wedding and Herb's baptism.

This is my first time seeing the names Buddha Weed and Paul Londen - I guess some research is in order....

July 21, 1918

Dear Mother,

This has been the most satisfactory week since I struck France. The war begins to look as if it might end after all. Of course we had been expecting something round here, but it came with something of a surprise. I woke up in the night when it started, out of dreaming that I was going to New York on the night boat. You know how the engines sound when one is down below – that tremendous vibration that one feels more than hears. Well, that’s just how the barrage sounded and it went on for hours. It was awful. Already there were shells dropping in the town – far back as we were – but very few, only one every ten or fifteen minutes and small ones at that. All the ambulances that were in started out right away. I stayed behind with the kitchen, etc. I was damned glad of it too, because I had had diarrhea the preceding day – in fact I had it for the next day and a half. I blame it on the water in the village. Lord knows it tasted bad enough to have caused anything. However it went away and I’ve felt fine ever since. The next day we moved up and established headquarters in a field hospital. The drives did wonderful work – traveled back + forth through that barrage just as if it weren’t there at all. The American troops in the line stood to it like veterans – the French men were crazy about them – and the line here held like a rock. By now of course it’s pretty well died out, except for the artillery activity at night. And I think Jerry won’t try any more funny work in this sector. The miraculous part of it is we didn’t have a single man hurt in the Section.

I had a letter from Doctor Fairlee several days ago. I must write him. I also had a very cheerful letter from Tom and was very glad to hear from him. Bhudda Weed and Paul Londen have been to see him while in England. I’d like to see him myself but it can’t be done.

The weather is fine – though we’ve had several bad storms. I’m in the pink – as usual. The worst is over, here at least and I don’t expect that anything further will develop in this Section of the front. Jerry had his lesson here – the dead are piled up in mounds on the Germans side, and he’s going to need all the strength he can muster at other points. I’ve seen a good many German prisoners. They don’t look much cast down. On the other hand, they don’t seem to be starved to death – but they were from picked divisions.

Your affectionate son,
Herb

The Belfort Ruse

I took this historical tidbit from the History Channel.

On August 30, 1918, in Belfort, France, a small town near the German border, Colonel Arthur L. Conger of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) plants a copy of a false operational order for an impending Allied attack in a wastebasket; as intended, it is later found and removed by a German agent.

The Belfort Ruse, as the trick was dubbed, was the result of a suggestion by the French commander in chief, Philippe Petain, who was alarmed by the lack of security surrounding the upcoming Allied offensive near St. Mihiel, France. Planned for September 9, 1918, it was to be the first significant operation of the war under United States command; French troops were set to take part as well. The German-held salient near St. Mihiel, south of Verdun, had long plagued the Allies in France; it blocked the transport of troops and supplies on the railway line between Paris and Nancy, while posing a danger to any French offensive operation in the Meuse-Argonne region immediately to the west of the salient and providing the Germans with a forward defensive base that protected their all-important stores of coal and iron. The French had failed repeatedly to capture the salient; now it was time for another attempt.

After learning that the plans for the offensive were being talked about in Paris, Petain wrote a personal missive to the American commander in chief, General John J. Pershing, suggesting a ploy to misdirect the Germans as to the details of the upcoming attack. Pershing agreed, and with French assistance the Americans planted the false order in a Belfort hotel, presumably one where the French knew a German agent was on the staff.

The Belfort Ruse was designed to trick the German High Command into believing that the thrust of the Allied offensive, which would begin less than two weeks later, on September 12, in the St. Mihiel salient, would instead be launched near Belfort toward the German town of Mulhausen (Mulhouse), just across the border. The extent to which the ruse proved successful is debatable; some German divisions were indeed diverted to the Belfort region, but these troops did not come from St. Mihiel. The German command, aware of the impending attack on the salient, apparently made the decision not to hold it, and to withdraw from the area. This withdrawal was still in progress when the U.S. attacked on September 12, and by September 16 the AEF controlled the area.

Inflation Era Bank notes from Germany

Look what I found among my father's papers. Now, I can't figure out why he would have them... I mean, if they are from the 1920s, then a little early for him. And they are a little late for Herb's time in Europe... So, why would my father have them?

Looks like maybe it was printed in February 1923.

Fun to see, though.

German crown council at Spa, Belgium

I was exploring what was happening in the world during this time for Herb. According to the History Channel, here is what was happening in the middle of August 1918.

Interesting to contemplate the disillusionment of the Germans.

On this day in 1918, five days after an Allied attack at Amiens, France, leads German commander Erich Ludendorff to declare “the black day of the German army,” Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany summons his principal political and military leaders to a crown council at Spa, a resort town in Belgium, to assess the status of the German war effort during World War I.

On August 11, after the Allied victory at Amiens kicked off a new Allied offensive on the Western Front, Ludendorff and Paul von Hindenburg, chief of the German army’s general staff, told the new naval chief, Admiral Reinhardt Scheer, that Germany’s only hope to win the war was through submarine warfare. “There is no more hope for the offensive,” the downtrodden Ludendorff told a staff member on August 12. “The generals have lost their foothold.”

At the crown council assembled on August 13-14 by the kaiser at Spa, where the German High Command had its headquarters, Ludendorff recommended that Germany initiate immediate peace negotiations. Ludendorff failed, however, to present the true extent of the military’s disadvantage on the battlefield; instead, he blamed revolt and anti-war sentiment on the home front for the military’s inability to continue the war effort indefinitely. Meanwhile, the chief military adviser to Austrian Emperor Karl I informed Wilhelm that Austria-Hungary could only continue its participation in the war until that December. Though the kaiser thought it advisable to seek an intermediary to begin peace negotiations, his newly appointed foreign minister, Paul von Hintze, refused to take such an approach until another German victory on the battlefield had been achieved. Hintze, working on suppressing discontent and rebellion within the German government, told party leaders the following week that “there was no reason to doubt ultimate victory. We shall be vanquished only when we doubt that we shall win.”

Meanwhile, on the battlefront in Flanders, Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, one of the German army’s most senior commanders, wrote of his own doubt to Prince Max of Baden (the kaiser’s second cousin, who would become chancellor of Germany the following October): “Our military situation has deteriorated so rapidly that I no longer believe we can hold out over the winter; it is even possible that a catastrophe will come earlier….The Americans are multiplying in a way we never dreamed of….At the present time there are already thirty-one American divisions in France.” The Allied commanders, for their part, pushed their troops forward on the Western Front and made aggressive preparations for future offensives in 1919, unaware that victory would come before the year was out.

Redoubled Energy (Back with Herb in France)

It's interesting to think about Herb's comment about keeping the war effort going at top speed at home. I am certain he is not referencing what is going through my head... What I think about is food production. I read that the reason we have so many food companies was because during WW2 we had to ship a lot of food to our soldiers and the food had to survive the trip - hence preservatives. And also, once those companies existed, they needed to continue after the war for the jobs they created, so rather than to make women's lives easier with Rice-a-Roni, the reason we have all these manufactured-food companies was to keep the jobs and the assets at work. Scary thought, isn't it? I mean, one can see the logic of the reasoning, but crap, at the expense of our health and family life.

Which of course leads to the next subject which I will not discuss here, but all the technological advances because of war and military.

Anyway... on to different subjects:
Here is the front page of the New York Times as Herb is writing this letter home:



I'm afraid I don't know who Miss McElwee is. The quickest of searches in Ancestry.com didn't find anything.

Chas is Herb's cousin.

Herb's maternal aunt lives in Huntingdon, NY - it's actually Chas' mother who Nellie Jane is going to visit.

August 25 (1918)

Dear Mother,
I had Dad’s letter of July 28 as well as yours yesterday – the first in a week or so.

We’re still taking things easy – though I expect our time is getting pretty short now. We’ve been in rest billets now almost two weeks. The past week has been very hot and close up till yesterday when a good hard rain cooled things off a bit. However it’s been good harvesting weather and the farm people – they’re old men, boys, women and men not fit for service over here – are very busy from early morning till dark getting in grain.

The war news grows steadily better as you know. I’ve seen accounts of wild celebrating in the States over the American’s victory on the Marne. I think people might better save their breath to keep war work at top speed myself. There is no doubt that the Allied machine is steadily growing and will before long be irresistible but the proper time to shout is after the crossing of the Rhine. This is the time or the folks at home to put their shoulders to the wheel with redoubled energy. The wheel has started, right enough, but it’s going to take lots of more pushing to keep increasing its speed.

I was much interested to hear that Miss McElwee had been working at 14 Wall. Are you sure it wasn’t before I left. I was in and out of there quite often and it would seem as if I should have seen at some time or other.

I wish to Pete Chas would write to me, I haven’t had a letter from him in a couple of months or so.

I expect that by now or in a few days at least you will be in Huntingdon. I’d like to be with you. The Sound is such a wonderful place these days.

The last drafts must have taken a good many of the boys around town. It may be that Stan Kling is over here now. I’ve known cases where things moved as fast as that. Wends must be rather deserted these days.

We’re still with the same Division of French. Of course I can’t name it but I can tell you that it’s rather famous and is largely composed of Chasseurs – those smallish chaps in dark blue uniforms and as good as fighting men as there are anywhere. I couldn’t tell you at the time but I think I can now that we were in the thick of it when the Germans advanced across the Marne. It was a very uncomfortable week because we were all running around like mad all over and had the Germans always on our heels. It took about a week to locate all the men and cars and get them together. They were scattered all over the salient (?). Well, the Germans went back faster than they came in so we were revenged, though I should have liked to have been there to see it.

The hot weather made me a bit sick to my stomach for a day or two but that’s over with and I’m feeling very fit.

A few nights ago we celebrated our vacation with a big dinner – quite a nice dinner, too – and a sort of party afterwards. Everyone seemed to enjoy himself.

Your affectionate son,
Herb

3 baths in one week!

Herb is still in Dampierre-sur-Moivre.

Interesting that Herb should mention the subway, as he was working on a bond offering for it before he left for the War.

No huge headline on the front page of the New York Times on this Sunday as Herb sat down to put pen to paper.

Though, while futzing around I found this article from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on 21 August 1918 about perhaps an associate of Herb's - they were in Allentown together, so it is possible. Seems that Lieutenant Dougherty was awarded the Croix de Guerre.

August 18, 1918

Dear Mother,

Another week has slid by – very quietly this time. Now and again we hear a rumbling from up the line but nothing occurs to destroy the serenity of this village. I have profited by the occasion to get three baths in one week – a regular record.

I shall try to get through to you some time before an order for some things for the winter – some socks, a new sweater (mine is pretty well gone) and a couple of abdominal bands. I’ve never worn those last but I notice most of the French soldiers wear them all the time and I think they would be very practical for the winter.

I don’t think I told you that I had a letter from Mr. Friedman this week. He wanted to know why he hadn’t heard from me. I’d like to know that myself because I’ve been writing him right along.

The war news continues favorable to us, doesn’t it. Provided we only get a decent break in the luck, one may almost hope that we’ve turned the corner.

Little happens from day to day. Since the Division is on rest there are no wounded men. That leaves little but routine camp work, cleaning up and the like. We’ll very likely have all told about two weeks of this and then we’ll be going back into the lines at some other point. Just now the favorite in door sport is guessing what point it will be.

The worst part of it all is the monotony of the small villages and the country as a whole to any one used to living in the city. One misses the crowds and the street cars and the bustle. I almost find myself missing the Subway, though Lord knows there is never much fun in riding on it.

With best love,

Herb

Mom's birthday

Section 580 moves on the 13th from Suippes to Dampierre-sur-Moivre.



The History Channel tells us that on the 13th,

five days after an Allied attack at Amiens, France, leads German commander Erich Ludendorff to declare “the black day of the German army,” Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany summons his principal political and military leaders to a crown council at Spa, a resort town in Belgium, to assess the status of the German war effort during World War I.

On August 11, after the Allied victory at Amiens kicked off a new Allied offensive on the Western Front, Ludendorff and Paul von Hindenburg, chief of the German army’s general staff, told the new naval chief, Admiral Reinhardt Scheer, that Germany’s only hope to win the war was through submarine warfare. “There is no more hope for the offensive,” the downtrodden Ludendorff told a staff member on August 12. “The generals have lost their foothold.”

At the crown council assembled on August 13-14 by the kaiser at Spa, where the German High Command had its headquarters, Ludendorff recommended that Germany initiate immediate peace negotiations. Ludendorff failed, however, to present the true extent of the military’s disadvantage on the battlefield; instead, he blamed revolt and anti-war sentiment on the home front for the military’s inability to continue the war effort indefinitely. Meanwhile, the chief military adviser to Austrian Emperor Karl I informed Wilhelm that Austria-Hungary could only continue its participation in the war until that December. Though the kaiser thought it advisable to seek an intermediary to begin peace negotiations, his newly appointed foreign minister, Paul von Hintze, refused to take such an approach until another German victory on the battlefield had been achieved. Hintze, working on suppressing discontent and rebellion within the German government, told party leaders the following week that “there was no reason to doubt ultimate victory. We shall be vanquished only when we doubt that we shall win.”

Meanwhile, on the battlefront in Flanders, Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, one of the German army’s most senior commanders, wrote of his own doubt to Prince Max of Baden (the kaiser’s second cousin, who would become chancellor of Germany the following October): “Our military situation has deteriorated so rapidly that I no longer believe we can hold out over the winter; it is even possible that a catastrophe will come earlier….The Americans are multiplying in a way we never dreamed of….At the present time there are already thirty-one American divisions in France.” The Allied commanders, for their part, pushed their troops forward on the Western Front and made aggressive preparations for future offensives in 1919, unaware that victory would come before the year was out.

Here is the front page from the New York Times as Herb is writing home:


I tried to swipe a picture of the church Herb mentions from a french web site. I'm afraid it is awfully small.

Mother, is, of course, Nellie Jane Kirkpatrick Lee.

August 11th (1918)

Dearest Mother,
This wasn’t a very good week – I didn’t get any mail at all. Outside of that everything is all right. The Sector has been fairly quiet though there have been several small attacks – nothing on a large scale.

This week we’ve had news of two more Allied victories on a large scale. I believe the Crown Prince has given up his idea of eating dinner in Paris. If he doesn’t do better he won’t even be able to eat his Christmas dinner in Berlin except as a prisoner-of-war.

The weather is fair – some rain but not enough to hurt. I’ve been as well as can be – don’t think I ever felt better.

You know it’s very funny that I don’t hear from either Charlie or Mr. Friedman. I’ve been writing them both – not very often, I’ll admit, but fairly regularly and yet I’ve only heard from both of them but once.

I’ve had several strokes of luck that enable me to get hold of a supply of tobacco and cigarettes that ought to last a little while.

August 13

Since I started this letter we have moved back to rest billets in a typical small French village. It has an old, old stone church with a belfry a scattering of stone houses and bars and manure piles and a great deal of decoration in the shape of clothes spread or hung out to dry everywhere. Our barracks are in an old barn but they’re dry and quite clean, so there’s no complaint. At any rate it’s quiet and that’s a whole lot. At night one can catch a faint rumbling from the front lines if the artillery fire is very heavy an of course there’s enough possibility of an air raid to make it necessary to darken all lights at night.

I had a letter from Mr. Friedman yesterday – just a note rather, wondering why he did not hear from me. This was written about the middle of July and he said he had only heard from me once. That’s pretty discouraging, you know. He is expecting an addition to the family and is, of course, quite delighted. They have no children, you know. Mrs. Friedman is delicate, suffers from some sort of chronic anemia and lack of sufficient red corpuscles.

I also had a letter from Karolyn in that mail but none from you, worse luck.

Two days more of news from different parts of the front seems to lead to the cheering conclusion that the German defenses are if anything a bit more easily broken now than were our own in the early Spring. Some of these days they’ll come to with a rush.

By the time you get this your birthday will have come and gone, Mother dear, but I want you to know that I’ll be thinking of you. For the next one I’ll be with you.

With best love,
Your affectionate son,
Herb

Germans Retreat....

Here is the front page from the NY Times from the day Herb is writing this letter home:



Pretty funny that he is claiming that things are quiet - one wonders which war he was involved in!

How astute of Herb about sizing up the (perhaps stereo-typic, though there is always a grain of truth in those...) French character!

What trouble is Harry in now? My goodness that boy!

The kids, of course, are Olive and Margaret.

Section 580 of the Ambulance Corps is still in Suippes, France at this time.

Though it is quiet for Herb when he writes this letter home, in 4 days time

the Allies launch a series of offensive operations against German positions on the Western Front during World War I with a punishing attack at Amiens, on the Somme River in northwestern France.

After heavy casualties incurred during their ambitious spring 1918 offensive, the bulk of the German army was exhausted, and its morale was rapidly disintegrating amid a lack of supplies and the spreading influenza epidemic. Some of its commanders believed that the tide was turning irrevocably in favor of Germany’s enemies; as one of them, Crown Prince Rupprecht, wrote on July 20, “We stand at the turning point of the war: what I expected first for the autumn, the necessity to go over to the defensive, is already on us, and in addition all the gains which we made in the spring—such as they were—have been lost again.” Still, Erich Ludendorff, the German commander in chief, refused to accept this reality and rejected the advice of his senior commanders to pull back or begin negotiations.

Meanwhile, the Allies prepared for the war to stretch into 1919, not realizing victory was possible so soon. Thus, at a conference of national army commanders on July 24, Allied generalissimo Ferdinand Foch rejected the idea of a single decisive blow against the Germans, favoring instead a series of limited attacks in quick succession aimed at liberating the vital railway lines around Paris and diverting the attention and resources of the enemy rapidly from one spot to another. According to Foch: “These movements should be exacted with such rapidity as to inflict upon the enemy a succession of blows….These actions must succeed each other at brief intervals, so as to embarrass the enemy in the utilization of his reserves and not allow him sufficient time to fill up his units.” The national commanders—John J. Pershing of the United States, Philippe Petain of France and Sir Douglas Haig of Britain—willingly went along with this strategy, which effectively allowed each army to act as its own entity, striking smaller individual blows to the Germans instead of joining together in one massive coordinated attack.

Haig’s part of the plan called for a limited offensive at Amiens, on the Somme River, aimed at counteracting a German victory there the previous March and capturing the Amiens railway line stretching between Mericourt and Hangest. The British attack, begun on the morning August 8, 1918, was led by the British 4th Army under the command of Sir Henry Rawlinson. The German defensive positions at Amiens were guarded by 20,000 men; they were outnumbered six to one by advancing Allied forces. The British—well assisted by Australian and Canadian divisions—employed some 400 tanks in the attack, along with over 2,000 artillery pieces and 800 aircraft.

By the end of August 8—dubbed “the black day of the German army” by Ludendorff—the Allies had penetrated German lines around the Somme with a gap some 15 miles long. Of the 27, 000 German casualties on August 8, an unprecedented proportion—12,000—had surrendered to the enemy. Though the Allies at Amiens failed to continue their impressive success in the days following August 8, the damage had been done. “We have reached the limits of our capacity,” Kaiser Wilhelm II told Ludendorff on that “black day.” “The war must be ended.” The kaiser agreed, however, that this end could not come until Germany was again making progress on the battlefield, so that there would be at least some bargaining room. Even faced with the momentum of the Allied summer offensive—later known as the Hundred Days Offensive—the front lines of the German army continued to fight on into the final months of the war, despite being plagued by disorder and desertion within its troops and rebellion on the home front.

August 4th (1918)
Dear Mother,
I’ve had a regular flood of mail this week – about ten letters and two packages of Times and Posts. I like those clippings – they keep me up with the news and the Times is the best paper to clip.

I have just written to Renwick Fleming again since he didn’t get my first letter.

Things are still quiet here-abouts – that is there have been no sizeable attacks. Of course there’s been the usual shelling. The weather is pretty rainy and disagreeable.

I went with the truck today to get supplies from an American Commissary Depot some ways back. We got a good stock of cigarettes and I have some tobacco so I’m on Easy Street. The American Red Cross has made arrangements to send us a supply every month because we’re not in touch with the American depots – that comes free of course.

Hasn’t there been rejoicing in the States over the news of the past week or so. The American troops are certainly coming through. Furthermore there are lots of them. The French are perking up and even are beginning to think of the end of it all – something unusual for them. Usually they just plug along without speculating as to when it will be over.

Is that trouble of Harry’s at all serious or will it only need a little treatment. It’s probably a good things it was discovered.

I could guess of course that the kids were getting pretty big but I can’t imagine Olive as almost as big as you. I wish I could see you all.
Your affectionate son,
Herb

1918 July Report

We have a lot having gone on in July - we lost a man, Private First Class John H. Breese and our original commander, Lloyd F. Allen, was relieved of duty and a new commander, James W. D. Seymour, took over.

I found John H. Breese's grave through ancestry.com - he can be found at Plot D, Row 36, Grave 35 in Romagne, France at the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery.
I also found the military abstract for him:

John died a year and 10 days after enlisting. How sad. He had been promoted at the same time as Herb.

Bastille Day 1918

I believe I made a mistake earlier, thinking that Jane Parker was Russell Parker's sister in this post. According to the 1900 Federal Census, Russell had two sisters, Ida and Kathryn. Unfortunately, I have no clue what might have happened to to this mentioned sister. However, I do know that both of Russell and cousin Edith's children died relatively young, Howard at only 16 and Ruth at 25. Very sad. I believe Howard always had a weak heart - at least that is what I believe my 3rd cousin/Chas' great grandson Chuck told me.

The day following the writing of this letter, Herb and his Section 580 leave Bussy le Chateau, Marne and spend the next month in Suippes.



July 14, 1918
Dear Mother,
It’s Sunday again almost before I had realized it. The days seem very long, but strangely enough, the weeks seem very short. They can’t be any too short for me.

This is the French National holiday so I suppose everyone will be celebrating.

I had a letter from Dad this week, enclosing a letter from Aunt Ida. Too bad about Russell Parker’s sister, wasn’t it. I met her several time at Edith’s and she seemed like a very nice girl. I was glad to hear that Aunt Ida keeps so well. Hope you’ll be able to get down for a week or two.

That package from Wanamaker’s hasn’t put in an appearance yet, though we’ve had a couple of deliveries of second class mail.

There seem to be more Americans around here than ever. I guess they’re settled down here to stay. Hope so.

Tell Dad that if he can manage to send some tobacco I’d like to have it, though I do manage to worry along with what I can pick up at the Y.M.C.A.’s and what I can get from the Commissary. Don’t send an from Wanamaker’s though.

Affectionately,
Herb

I wrote + thanked Ren Fleming, but if Dad sees him have him thank him for me. He may never have gotten my letter.
Herb

Herb's birthday

Dang - to think that my great grandmother couldn't vote... not until 1920. So Herb is indicating that his father and his brother are the two votes in the family as Herb is overseas fighting.

I wasn't able to find anything on Willie Heart.

Olive is Herb's younger sister, and I now believe Marnie is Margaret. Margaret must be 7 years old.

I figured I should include a photo of Herb, in honor of his birthday in our series of letters:

This photo was taken in 1926 - so at this time he is home with a daughter. (And, NO! he is not married to Karolyn, he is married to Florence and I have no idea when they met, or what happened to Karolyn!) Handsome looking dude, wouldn't you say?

July 7, 1918
Dearest Mother,

This is a very special occasion today – not only Sunday, but my birthday as well – the second in the Service and I hope the last. I should have liked to have gone to church, but there is no church for Protestants.

The mail has been pretty backward so I have looked in vain. For word from you or for the packages that Dad had sent to me. That probably means that I’m due for a lot all in one bunch in a few days or so.

The weather is very fine and gives promise of staying so, warm but not too warm, and fair practically all the time now.

Lots of American troops have been coming up in to our Sector the past week. It certainly seems good to see them – that is to us, I don’t believe it pleases Jerry very much.

For three or four days we had an American band in the village and every evening we had a concert. It did sound good to hear real American music. However they went away the night before the 4th.

I have just been writing to Charlie and am going to write the Shermans in a day or two. I wrote Tom, as perhaps I told you, but haven’t heard from him yet. It’s pretty soon to be expecting a reply anyway.

We get a couple of English papers every day, so I manage to keep up with the news now. On the hole it’s very satisfactory, I think.

My own birthday brought to my mind the fact that Harry must be nineteen and that the kids must be rapidly growing up. And yet I can remember Harry toddling around the back yard and crying because Mr. Merrill’s dog had knocked him down.

The papers speak of Willie Heart’s determination to run for Governor. I think he has an unprecedented gall, but then, he’s had that a long time. I’d like to be home to vote. However, we have two votes in the family anyway, haven’t we?

Whenever [sic] you get that money I’ve allotted to you out of my pay, please let me know. Don’t worry about it if it doesn’t come, though, because those things often take several months. If you need it, use it, but if you don’t, put it in the bank.

Ask Olive to write me, Mother, I’d love to have her. And Marnie, too, those queer scrawls of hers are awfully amusing.
Your affectionate son,
Herb