The German Prussian Guards came over to meet us. Our infantry went at
'em, facing them. Some yelled, "Kamerad," but that didn't go with us.
We gave them the cold steel instead. We had 500 yards to go to before
we could take Cantigny. "Little Jimmie" Doyle was working hard at the
gun and he would say, "I wonder if my mother is thinking of me." We
kept moving our gun and giving them all they wanted. All of a sudden
"Little Jimmie" fell with a Hun machine gun bullet through his head.
The blood was pouring down his cheek. I went to him, gave him my first
aid packet with bandages, put it around his head,--but in vain. He was
taking his last breath. He said:
"George, good bye, I knew this was my day."
He wanted to say a few more words, but could not. He lay still without
breathing. He was dead, and he died with a smile on his lips. The
poor lad was always happy and had a smile for whoever he met. "Little
Jimmie" died for his country and died like a man.
After taking Jimmie away I ran back to my machine gun. The Prussians
were coming over, driving back the infantry. They overpowered us but
the machine gunners all said: "We are going to hold this line until the
infantry gets reinforcements." We eight machine gunners were checking
the Germans finally. Now and then we stopped firing. Then the Huns
would rush at us, thinking that they had killed us, but we were very
much alive and as soon as they advanced a hundred yards or so, we would
open up our machine guns again and give 'em Hell. Four of the machine
gunners were killed and it was up to the remaining four to hold them
back until the infantry came.
Our ammunition was getting low and I was shot through my leg by a
high explosive shrapnel, but I kept on with my machine gun until our
infantry came up with the reinforcements, and went over with a yell and
chased the Huns back and captured Cantigny. We got that town in two and
a half hours.
My leg was bleeding and I had an awful pain but I stuck to it. We went
into the Hun trenches, which we had captured, and there I was treated
by the Red Cross dressing station and then we went in and brought out
the German prisoners who were hiding in the dugouts and cellars of the
town.
Then the Germans, who were driven back to their reserve trenches,
wanted to get square on us, and fired over the poisonous gas. We got
the signal and put our masks on, and kept them on for seventy-two
hours. Mine was an old mask and it began to leak, until suddenly I
fell, and was unconscious for twenty-four hours. When I awoke I was in
the hospital, in a nice white bed such as I had not been in for ten
months. Oh! didn't I sleep. They couldn't get me up for anything.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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