DIY History | Transcribe | World War I Diaries and Letters | Conger Reynolds newspaper clippings, 1916-1919 | The American Magazine: "The Hottest Four Hours I Ever Went Through" by Floyd Gibbons

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Conger Reynolds newspaper clippings, 1916-1919

The American Magazine: "The Hottest Four Hours I Ever Went Through" by Floyd Gibbons - Page 2

The Hottest Four Hours I Ever Went Through

It was in a field of oats 10 to 15 inches high, with machine guns playing on us

Just how does it feel to be shot, on the field of battle? Just what is the exact sensation when a bullet burns its way through your flesh? I always wanted to know. As a reporter I "covered" stories of shooting cases, but I could never learn from the victims what the precise feeling was as the piece of lead struck. But now I know! For three German bullets, which violated my person, completely satisfied my curiosity. 

It happened on June 6th, 1918, just to the northwest of Château-Thierry, in the Bois de Belleau, which the French have renamed "The Wood of the Americans." On the morning of that day I left Paris by motor for a rush to the front. I knew that American divisions were in this section; and that was my reason for hustling out there. 

At Montreuil, then the headquarters of the second United States Army division, I learned that two of our infantry brigades, and also the marines, were fighting in the line, just four miles away. And accompanied by Lieutenant Oscar Hartzell, who was in the Intelligence Department of the Army, I went a mile or two farther on, to the headquarters of Colonel Neveille of the Fifth Marines. 

Reaching there about four o'clock in the afternoon, Lieutenant Hartzell and I announced to Colonel Neveille our intention of proceeding to the front line.

"Go wherever you like," was the reply; "but I want to tell you it's damn hot up there." 

An hour later found us in the woods to the west of the village of Lucy le Bocage, in which German shells were continually falling.

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The Hottest Four Hours I Ever Went Through It was in a field of oats 10 to 15 inches high, with machine guns playing on us Just how does it feel to be shot, on the field of battle? Just what is the exact sensation when a bullet burns its way through your flesh? I always wanted to know. As a reporter I "covered" stories of shooting cases, but I could never learn from the victims what the precise feeling was as the piece of lead struck. But now I know! For three German bullets, which violated my person, completely satisfied my curiosity. It happened on June 6th, 1918, just to the northwest of Château-Thierry, in the Bois de Belleau, which the French have renamed "The Wood of the Americans." On the morning of that day I left Paris by motor for a rush to the front. I knew that American divisions were in this section; and that was my reason for hustling out there. At Montreuil, then the headquarters of the second United States Army division, I learned that two of our infantry brigades, and also the marines, were fighting in the line, just four miles away. And accompanied by Lieutenant Oscar Hartzell, who was in the Intelligence Department of the Army, I went a mile or two farther on, to the headquarters of Colonel Neveille of the Fifth Marines. Reaching there about four o'clock in the afternoon, Lieutenant Hartzell and I announced to Colonel Neveille our intention of proceeding to the front line. "Go wherever you like," was the reply; "but I want to tell you it's damn hot up there." An hour later found us in the woods to the west of the village of Lucy le Bocage, in which German shells were continually falling.