With Fixed Bayonets and Poppies in Their Helmets: A Marine Describes Belleau Wood

Fresh from the American Expeditionary Force's first major victory in France at Belleau Wood, Private Eugene M. Abbott of the 6th Marines provided the following account of the battle while the smoke and sting of battle was still fresh to his senses. As a matter of fact, Abbott wrote this letter from a hospital bed, suffering not only from a nasty leg wound but from gas that left him with "no more wind than a fly."

    "About 2:30 on June 6^th, they woke us up and said we were going over the top to take a certain town," stated Abbott. "Well, we were all glad to go over as we knew we could whip the devil after eating raw meat, potatoes, and hardtack for six days because they shelled our ration train and they couldn’t get up to us with supplies. So, we were sure in a fighting mood. Well, we loaded up with hardtack and salmon and marched three kilometers to the lines and formed for combat and at 4:30 got plenty of ammunition, fixed bayonets, and went out with blood in our eyes." 

    Abbott's harrowing description of combat at Belleau Wood first saw publication in the July 5, 1918, edition of the Shelby County Democrat published in Sidney, Ohio. 

 Somewhere in France

June 10, 1918

            At present I am in a Base Hospital wounded but Mell, we whipped hell out of them and I can cut two more notches in my gun at the very least. I will try and give you a little account of the fight.

            We had been in support for several days and didn’t do much but dig a hole big enough to be in so as to protect ourselves from shrapnel and high explosives which were coming our way continually. About 2:30 on June 6^th, they woke us up and said we were going over the top to take a certain town. Well, we were all glad to go over as we knew we could whip the devil after eating raw meat, potatoes, and hardtack for six days because they shelled our ration train and they couldn’t get up to us with supplies. So, we were sure in a fighting mood. Well, we loaded up with hardtack and salmon and marched three kilometers to the lines and formed for combat and at 4:30 got plenty of ammunition, fixed bayonets, and went out with blood in our eyes.

"We came out of a wood and the fight was on as a hail of machine gun bullets met us," recalled Private Eugene Abbott of the 6th U.S. Marines. "We kept on advancing a hundred yards at a time and then down on our stomachs we would go so as to rest a little. And the bullets sure did whistle over us. I never loved to get so near the earth in all my life. We sure did hug it."  

            The town was right down a valley about two miles and all wheat, rye, and clover fields to go through so we had no protection. We came out of a wood and the fight was on as a hail of machine gun bullets met us. We kept on advancing a hundred yards at a time and then down on our stomachs we would go so as to rest a little. And the bullets sure did whistle over us. Oh boy, I never loved to get so near the earth in all my life. We sure did hug it. Then up we came and started for them on the double until we were within a thousand yards and then they sure did play machine guns on us from the town. They let us have a taste of trench mortars, shrapnel, and one-pounders. Boy, it sure is a great sensation while they are missing you but whenever our boys went down and quit, they were shot damned bad, too for flesh wounds didn’t stop them. And they did go down only with a smile and a shout saying, “give them hell for me.” They bound up their wounds the best they could while the stretcher bearers got them.

            Then the word came along the skirmish line and we are going into the city. Up we came and we went knocking off Fritzies and taking prisoners as we went. Then came the great dope, hand to hand as we thought it would be. But the cowards quit like dogs and yelled “kamerad, kamerad!” Well, some of them got by with it and others got the cold steel or 30-30. They had machine guns up in trees, churches, steeples, and house tops. We took the town and many prisoners and guns and other things. I saw several wounded boys make the Germans take them in. I saw one boy who wasn’t over 18 years of age who was wounded and had to hop along; he took a big German to the rear with a bayonet in his back.

"We took the town and many prisoners and guns and other things," continued Abbott. "I saw several wounded boys make the Germans take them in. I saw one boy who wasn't over 18 years of age who was wounded and had to hop along; he took a big German to the rear with a bayonet in his back."

Well, if any American can whip three of these curs he is either blind or armless. Some of the boys grabbed sticks and clubs on our lift and cleaned them with weapons like that. It sure was a grand and glorious victory and the largest on the whole front that day. Each and every one of the boys held up their reputation to a T. They were less excited on the field of battle than they would be in mess formation.

The greatest sight I ever saw was when I had to take word back to the next wave. You could see hundreds of the boys coming through the field with fixed bayonets and poppies in their helmets and clothes, and the look of determination in their eyes and faces, the look of do or die. They really made one wonder if they were human. Well, we took our town and our objective and held it against a greater number when they tried to counterattack. We sure did whip them and since it is all over it all seems like a dream.

World War I wound chevron

 A few weeks later, Abbott told his brother more about his injury. “I am feeling about half right again but not like I should and am just a little weak at the present and have no more wind than a fly. I have a couple of marks on my legs that are going to be there for the rest of the war at least. I was looking at them last evening and where the bullet went in it is just a nice little hole, but where it came out it must have been going sideways as it tore quite a nice chunk out. On top of that I got a little gas so I will have to rest for at least a couple of months to get it out of my system. As for the pain, there was but very little except when they doped it up, and then nothing more than a burning sensation. It wouldn’t hurt a man to be shot a dozen times as long as they are nothing more than flesh wounds. And then you get the honor of wearing a wound chevron on your right arm and a big gold one, too.”

Source:

Letter from Private Eugene Milton Abbott, 97^th Co., 6^th Regt., U.S. Marines, 2^nd Division, Shelby County Democrat (Ohio), July 5, 1918, pg. 10; information in italics is from August 9, 1918, pg. 14