← American History Tellers
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- [00:10]
Narrator
One of the great things about this podcast is that we get to search for interesting, overlooked chapters of American history, like the Great Mississippi Flood or the Yellow fever epidemic of 1793. And then we get to really dig in, revealing, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes astounding, but always interesting events in our shared past or other times because we can. We'll review the big seismic events in detail, like World War I or the Great Depression. Some other times we'll have fun with outrageous stories like the plot to steal Lincoln's body or the Walker Affair. We get to hop around in time investigating all sorts of history because we're a show that publishes multi episode seasons. But time traveling like that can sometimes leave you a bit whiplashed. There are times when it's nice to experience your history the way nature intended, one moment at a time in chronological order. And if that's something you'd like to try, learn the entire history of the United States from beginning to end in order, then do I have the podcast for you. We're bringing you an episode from the podcast History that Doesn't Suck. Hosted by my good friend Professor Greg Jackson. It's well researched, fact filled history that's as entertaining as it is enlightening. It is, as the name implies, history that Doesn't Suck. But because this is American Historytellers and we have the keys to a magic time machine that allows us to select any time period we want, today I'm sharing History that doesn't suck. Episode 133 the Story of a Nation building an army from nothing after years of trying to avoid being dragged into a conflict in Europe, President Woodrow Wilson asks Congress for a declaration of war against Germany, but that turns out to be easier said than done. I hope you enjoy. And when you're done listening, be sure to search for and follow History that Doesn't Suck. Wherever you're listening now.
- [02:15]
Professor Greg Jackson
It's early in the still dark morning Friday, August 27, 1915 and everyone is sound asleep in the Pershing home on the Presidio U.S. army base in San Francisco, California. That's saying something because this is a full house. First we have 35 year old Helen Frances Pershing, known to her friends as Frankie or just Frank. Next we have her four children, three girls and one boy, all younger than 10. Perhaps they're dreaming of their husband and father, John, better known as Jack. Oh, they miss and love him as he does them. But Jack didn't dare to take his family with him on his current assignment to Fort Bliss, just next to the border town of El Paso, Texas. Not while Mexico is in the midst of revolution, loving them more than life itself. Jack sleeps better, knowing they're sleeping soundly more than a thousand miles away on the California coast. And tonight, or this morning rather, they even have some friends under the same roof. One is Mrs. Church. The others include Frankie's old Wellesley roommate and fellow army wife, Anne Boswell and her two little boys. All are dreaming sweet dreams until the smell of smoke wakes Ann. That is light pours in from the crack under her second story bedroom door. Ann wonders, is that a lamp? Is Frankie up? Anne opens the door. A gust of smoke rushes into the room as the woman takes in the sight of a fire swallowing the hallway and everything downstairs. Ann screams out for her friend Frank. Frank. Then she sees her. Across the flame filled hall, Ann catches a glimpse of Frankie dashing into the girls room. There's nothing more Anne can do. So turning to her six and three year old sons, Ann leads them onto the roof of the back porch. Cinders dance around her and the wooden house crackles as she screams for help. Soldiers answer the call. Thank God. One at a time, Ann drops her boys off the roof and into the men's waiting arms. Then Anne jumps. She injures her back but will live. Mrs. Church and Pershing family employees have escaped as well. Whew. But wait. Where are the Pershings? A rescue team braves the inferno. Thick dark smoke fills this tinder box of a house. But Jack's orderly, a black man named William Johnson, finds 6 year old Warren Pershing. They quickly get the small, barely conscious boy outside. Warren's survival, however, is where the Pershing family's good luck ends. After the flames are extinguished, firefighters search the rest of the home. Walking past charred walls, they find the girls room. It's a tragic scene. Nine year old Helen and seven year old Anne each lie in their separate beds. Their rigid lifeless hands still clinging to their sheets. Frankie is pinned under a heavy collapsed beam. She too has expired. And yet even in death, her motionless arms tenderly hold and seek to protect another little body. That of three year old Mary Margaret. Frankie left this world trying to protect or at least console her babies. A mother to the bitter end. It's later that same day. Now covering the tragedy of the Pershing family, Norman Walker of the Associated Press places a call to General Pershing's headquarters at Fort Bliss. Norman works out of nearby El Paso and is confident that he recognizes the voice saying hello on the other end as one of the general's aides. And so Norman launches In with a very matter of fact tone. Lieutenant Collins, I have some more news on the Presidio. Fire. A pregnant pause follows. Finally, the voice on the other end answers, what fire? What has happened? It's in this moment that Norman realizes he isn't speaking to the Lieutenant. He's speaking to the general, to John J. Blackjack Pershing himself, and worse. Jack clearly doesn't know yet, meaning it falls to Norman to tell him. Unsure what else to do, the newsman reads the report before him, personally informing the general that as of a few hours ago, he's a widower, that all three of his little girls are gone, that he's now a single father to his lone surviving child, his son Warren. Norman finishes reading. Jack exclaims, oh, God. My God. He simply repeats this over and over. The shock, the sorrow, it's just too much. Jack immediately takes a train to San Francisco. Upon arriving, seeing one full length coffin and three little coffins sends the grieving general to the floor. He makes it through these next few days as well as the funeral in Wyoming, albeit with great difficulty, then returns to Texas with his boy Warren. And what's this? Looking through the mail that's come in his absence, Jack sees a letter from his wife sent before her death. He opens the envelope, knowing it contains one last communication from his dear lost love. Her final words, though she didn't know it. And so Jack reads. Do you think there can be many people in the world as happy as we are? I would like to live to be a thousand years old if I could spend all of that time with you. That sentence so consoling, yet devastating all at once. Such loss, such loneliness. It's a burden to which few can ever relate. But Jack's life is one of unusual burdens and full of death. In less than two years from this moment, this grieving father will lead the greatest armed forces the United States has ever seen in the deadliest conflict the world has ever known. Welcome to history. That doesn't suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. A lamp. A live ember from the hearth. Whatever the cause, that fire only deepened John J. Blackjack Pershing's already rigid professional Persona that brings so many under his command to find him easy to admire but hard to like. Close quote Ah. If only they could see his wartime letters to little Warren, they would likely be shocked at the general's tenderness and affectionate ways of signing off, including phrases like good night, many kisses, Papa. But having now glimpsed Jack as A father return to his professional side as he leads the endeavor to transform the United States modest defensive army into a massive expeditionary force that can turn the tide in a global war of millions of seasoned, hardened soldiers. Doing this properly should take years, but years is a luxury that Blackjack doesn't have. We'll start with more background on our commander, John J. Blackjack Pershing, following him from childhood through his varied military career prior to the US entering World War I. From here, we'll see how the United States large population and role as the world's greatest producer of steel doesn't mean it can build a large army overnight. Drafting, training, funding, all of these are very real struggles. Finally, we'll see how these headaches are playing out for Blackjack and his first US Divisions in France. Tension and tempers are high as the British and French press Blackjack to rush his fresh recruits into the trenches. More than that, to amalgamate his forces with theirs. That is, to put his men in the British and French armies. But is this a war winning necessity? Or do these European empires merely see Americans as cannon fodder? Jack will face tough decisions as what's best for his troops, his nation and the alliance don't always align. So, ready to build a massive army and head over there as the Americans, or the Doughboys as they're known, step into the trenches with the Poilu and the Tommies to take on the fritzes. Good. But first, we begin a few decades back in Civil War era Missouri, where a young John Pershing is about to form a first and traumatic memory. Rewind. It's about 4 o'clock on a pleasant Saturday afternoon, June 28, 1864. The future General's father, John Fletcher Pershing, is at his general store in Laclede, Missouri. I can't say what he's doing at this exact moment, but suddenly his clerk, Henry Lomax bursts through the door. He shouts, bushwhackers are riding into town. They're headed right this way. That's right, Bushwhackers. We've met some of these Confederate supporting Civil War outlaws before, like William Bloody Bill Anderson back in episode 67. And right now, 16 to 30 of them are riding into town under the leadership of Captain Clifton Holtzclaw. Coming to a stop, the captain bellows out for all to hear. There are some abolitionists in this place that ought to be executed. This looks bad for John. In this state of split loyalties, his family is pro Union. He even dares to fly the stars and stripes over his general Store. It's a massive flag that his wife Ann sewed for him, and the Bushwhackers mean business. They soon start rounding up all the men in town and looting the stores, including the Pershings. Moving quickly, John grabs his shotgun and slips out the store's back door. Now armed, he stays on the backside of the buildings, moving four doors down to his home. There's only one thing on his mind right now. Protecting his wife Ann and their two sons, three year old Johnny and two year old James. Inside the house, Bushwhackers are questioning Ann on the whereabouts of her stars and stripes flying husband. Protectively spreading her arms over her two terrified children, she tells them over and over that he isn't here. Thankfully, the men are called from the house to join the other Bushwhackers in the street. John then enters, heading to the front room. He looks out the window, which perfectly frames the gathering Bushwhackers outside. He raises his gun and takes aim. Ann jumps up. She begs him to drop the gun. He looks at his wife, his shaking children. John knows that if he fires, he'll be killed, no matter how many he takes with him. It pains him to watch these outlaws destroy his store, but he lowers the gun. John loses over $800 in the raid, but at least his children will still have a father. Just shy of four years old at the time. Johnny will have only a hazy recollection of these Bushwhackers in years to come. But one thing will stick. To quote him, I clearly recall that I was badly scared. Historian Tim McNeese summarizes what this moment meant, writing, Young Pershing had been introduced to some of the ugliest versions of humanity. Those who kill for revenge, who kill indiscriminately. He became aware that day of human death and the tragedy that accompanies it. Years will pass before he sees death again. In fact, Johnny, or John, as the growing boy comes to prefer, has no plans to see it ever again. He just wants to go to college. But despite his family making some good money in land speculation after the war, his father loses all but their home in the panic of 1873. College will have to wait until young Pershing can pay for it himself. He saves up over the years by working as a field hand, a janitor, and eventually as a teacher for black students. This enables John to attend Kirksville Normal School with his brother in 1879. The school is for teachers, which isn't exactly what John dreamed of, but it's what he can afford. After Studying hard for two years here, John sees an ad in a local paper. Notice is hereby given that there will be a competitive examination held for the purpose of selecting one cadet for the military academy at West Point. Huh. John's never considered a military career, but this would give him the full college education he wants. Besides, John tells himself he can always leave army life later and leverage this college education into law, teaching, or anything else. He decides to go for it and succeeds. John heads to West Point in January of 1882. He's a bit awestruck being at the institution that trained many of the Civil War greats and will never forget standing with his fellow cadets, presenting arms as Ulysses S. Grant's funeral train passes by in 1885. West Point is also where young Pershing drops John in preference of Jack. He finishes his studies the following year in 1886, and as he graduates, the class president and senior cadet captain gets to choose. Infantry, artillery or cavalry. Oh, that's an easy one for Jack Pershing, the cavalry. Graduating in the midst of the Indian Wars, Jack is sent west for the next five years, where he fights in campaigns against the Apache and the Sioux and seize places like New Mexico, Arizona, and South Dakota. He moves up the ranks but also displays some thinking that's a bit ahead of his time, numbering among those army officers that show some respect for indigenous peoples. All the while, Jack's reputation as a tough but diligent leader is growing. That reputation pays off in 1891, when he lands a job as the professor of military science and tactics at the recently established University of Nebraska. Jack teaches here for four years. In 1895, the mid-30s lieutenant takes command of the famed All Black Buffalo Soldier's 10th Cavalry, so named because Native Americans tend to think the soldier's hair resembles that of the buffalo. He leads the 10th in Montana, where they're assigned to deport a band of Cree who, after fighting against the Canadian government, had fled south to Montana and South Dakota. Seeking sanctuary without resorting to violence, Jack and the black soldiers of the 10th complete their mission, rounding up and transporting the heartbroken Cree back to the Canadian border. Jack proves quite comfortable leading the 10th's black soldiers. Little surprise considering that he previously taught at two different schools for black students, or Negro schools, as they're known. He summarizes his feelings about race, saying, most men of whatever race, creed or color want to do the proper thing, and they respect the man above them whose motive is the same. Not everyone in the army shares Jack's view, though, and when he leaves the Buffalo Soldiers to return to West Point for a teaching gig in 1897. The cadets express their disdain for the rigid, disciplined instructor by insulting him for having led black troops behind his back. They call him Ninja Jack. Both the insult and meaning will shift in time. The nickname softens to Blackjack and is soon embraced as a reflection of Jack's hard, unrelenting toughness. It's around the same time that Blackjack goes to a month long military tournament in New York City. And while there he meets a police commissioner named Theodore Roosevelt. The two hit it off talking about their time out West. They meet again soon thereafter in the Spanish American War. Returning to the 10th Cavalry, Jack and the Buffalo Soldiers are with TR and his Rough Riders at the famous capture of Kettle Hill in the Battle of San Juan Hill in 1898. Now, I already told you that story back in episode 105, but it's here that Jack sees his first real military campaign. Afterward, he writes to a friend, our regiment has done valiant service. No one can say that colored troops will not fight. Close quote. Leaving Cuba, Jack heads to the Philippines where, as we recall from episode 107, the US is replacing Spain as the colonial power. In 1899, Jack is assigned to pacify uprising indigenous Muslims, the Moros. Learning from his time in the American west working with Native Americans, Jack believes the best way to end conflict is to seek mutual understanding. He studies the Moro dialects and culture, reads the Quran and forms close relationships with Moro chieftains. He drops the hammer when absolutely necessary, but sees that as a last resort. Future tales of him executing Muslims with bullets dipped in pig's blood are completely false. A February 1903 editorial in the Manila Times summarizes well Jack's four years of success in the Philippines. He has won friendship where he might fought when he had to and has generally conducted himself in a manner to bring credit to himself and the army. Captain Jack Pershing returns to the states that year a hero and is honored as his war buddy. President Teddy Roosevelt drops his name in a speech to Congress advocating for the promotion of military officers based on merit. Now assigned to the U.S. army General Staff in Washington, D.C. blackjack meets Senator Frances Warren's daughter, Helen Frankie Warren. She's 20 years younger than him, but for both, it's love. Right away, Frankie writes to a friend that she's danced every dance but one and have lost my heart to Captain Pershing irretrievably close quote. Similarly smitten, Blackjack tells a friend, I've met the girl God made for Me. It takes a whole year before Jack admits that he's in love with her and another five months before their first kiss. Jack then proposes on Christmas Day 1904. They rush the wedding because of Jack's appointment to observe the Russo Japanese War. Tying the knot just a month later, on January 25, 1905. Among the many in attendance is Jack's friend, President Theodore Roosevelt. It's in Tokyo in 1906 that Jack has his first dance with scandal as T.R. promotes him to brigadier general over 862 more senior officers. Some say it's only because of Jack's presidential friendship. Others are quick to point to his marriage to the senator from Wyoming's daughter. TR won't let any of this block Black Jack's rise though. The Rough Rider President writes to Jack's father in law that to promote a man because he marries a senator's daughter would be be an infamy. And to refuse him promotion for the same reason would be an equal infamy. But a more salacious accusation also threatens this promotion. Back in the Philippines, the Manila American claims that while stationed there, Jack fathered two children with the Filipina mistress. Jack denies it and sails to the Philippines to obtain an affidavit from his friend Joaquin Ignacio, the supposed mistress in which she and her husband likewise deny the alleged affair. Ever supportive, Frankie writes to Jack, I love you wholly devotedly with all my strength for always and always and always. The scandal passes. Jack's promotion goes forward. With this new rank, he stays in the Philippines for the next six years, first as commander of Fortune Fort McKinley, then as governor of the Moro province. Then in 1913, he's given command of the Presidio of San Francisco. Ah, but as we know from today's opening, Blackjack is soon off to Fort Bliss, Texas to handle the growing tensions on the border amid the Mexican revolution. Which we also learned about in episode 127. This is where Jack first meets the man he'll chase for a little under a Pancho villa. It's about 5pm Wednesday, August 26, 1914. Surrounded by staff officers and dressed in a Stetson hat and Norfolk jacket bulging over a brace of six shooters. General Francisco Pancho Villa stands with his khaki clad rival, General Alberto Obrigamo, on the Santa Fe Bridge that spans the Rio Grande to connect Ciudad Juarez, Mexico and the American city of El Paso, Texas. Just last month, these two generals were on the same side in a constitutionalist led coalition determined to end the presidency. Seizing Victoriano Huerta regime. But with victory, the coalition has lost its unifying force of a shared enemy. Tension is rising between Pancho and more conservative generals like Alvaro, and this makes the US government nervous. Several cars approach the bridge from the American side. From one of them emerges General Black Jack Hershey. He's invited the two Mexican generals to El Paso to discuss peace and stability in Mexico. Jack's men stand at attention as the generals cross into the United States. A parade of 20 cars drives through El Paso on their way to Fort Bliss. Locals line the route shouting viva Villa. They take some time for a photo op where disciplined and professional Blackjack allows a rare toothy smile in stark contrast to the Mexican general's stoic stares. Arriving at Fort Bliss, they're greeted by a band playing the Mexican national anthem. Pancho isn't a drinker, but the group heads to Jack's quarters for drinks and conversation. Toasts are made to the United States and to Mexico. By the end of the inebriated evening, Jack's got what he hoped for an impression of both generals, of Alvaro Obregon and of Pancho Villa. Blackjack comes away from that night more impressed with Albero, whom he calls suave and cultured. In contrast, the American general sees Pancho as suspicious and distrustful. Nevertheless, Jack shows his realism, writing to Chief of Staff Hugh Scott that Villa seems to be a strong man and may be the man of the hour. As we know from today's opening, Jack's still here at Fort Bliss a year and a day later when a fire in an old wooden army house rips his wife and three daughters from his life. Shattered by this loss, but glad to at least have his son, Warren, Blackjack is all business. After Poncho and his men provoke the United States by attacking Columbus, New Mexico. As I'm sure you recall from episode 127, Pancho carries out this attack in January 1916. Blackjack is then sent with thousands of soldiers on a manhunt through Mexico that march. They stay at it until early 1917. Pancho evades capture, but Secretary of War Newton Baker nevertheless calls this punitive expedition a success as its real purpose was a display of the power of the United States as a means of controlling lawless aggregations of bandits. West Point, the Indian wars, the Spanish American War, the Philippines, and even Mexico. Blackjack might be heartbroken, but he's seen about as much army life as any American officer of his generation can. And in the process, he's proven that though not the warmest figure, he's a level headed Disciplined leader. Such experience and traits will be needed after April 2, when President Woodrow Wilson calls on Congress to declare war on Germany. Someone's got to lead this army. Someone's got to build this army and immediately. Woodrow has a short list of possible leaders for this impossible task, but it most certainly does not include the man who drops in unannounced the very next day. It's just before 3pm April 3, 1917, and the guard at the White House's northern gate on Pennsylvania Avenue is watching a car pull up. President Woodrow Wilson doesn't accept unannounced visitors, so the unnamed sentinel is ready to dismiss the vehicle. But then he sees who's driving. It's Alice Roosevelt Longworth. And her passenger is no way. Her father, the rough riding former president Theodore Roosevelt. The guard immediately waves him up the curving driveway. The car stops in front of the North Portico, just as bespectacled and mustachioed as he was when he called this magnificent mansion home home eight years ago. Though older and heavier, the former president makes his way inside, speaking with White House usher Ike Hoover. TR Asks to see Woodrow Wilson. Teddy read in a newspaper about the professorial president's speech last night calling for war and would like to pay his compliments. Ike answers that Woodrow's in a cabinet meeting, but perhaps they could visit this afternoon. Alas, T.R. cant. He's just passing through Washington. Teddy's just returning home from Punta Gorda, Florida, where he harpooned the second largest devilfish ever measured and only has a small window before his next train to New York. Ah, a shame. The naturalist hunter asks Ike to give his compliments to Woodrow, leaves his card, then hops in the car with Alice to head back to the train station. A crowd and reporters throng TR before his train departs. They want to hear the former President's thoughts on President Woodrow Wilson's call for war. He's happy to oblige. The President's message is a great state paper which will rank in history among the great state papers of which Americans in future years will be proud. It now rests with the people of the country to see that we put in practice the policy the President has outlined and that we strike as hard as soon and as effectively as possible. An aggressive war against the government of Germany. We must send troops to the firing line as rapidly as possible. Defensive war is hopeless. We must, by vigorous offensive warfare, win the right to have our voice count for civilization and justice when the time for peace comes. I, of course, very earnestly hope that I may be Allowed to raise a division for immediate service at the front. Of course, Teddy Roosevelt wants to raise a volunteer division and charge off to France. No surprise, given that the colonel, as the former President still prefers to be called, raised and led the volunteer Rough Riders cavalry regiment during the Spanish American War. But that's not going to happen. Woodrow Wilson has no interest in volunteer units, nor, I would wager, in giving his erstwhile rival the limelight. Still, TR's heartbreak over not joining all four of his sons at the front does bring us to some very pressing questions. In April 1917. Uh, what army does the United States even have to send to war? And who's going to build and lead it? I know between its population of roughly 100 million and position as the world's largest industrial producer, the United States is plenty capable of fielding an impressive army. But even with the Indian wars, the Spanish American War and the Philippine American War, the largely isolated sea to shining sea nation simply hasn't needed one. Not since the Civil War ended half a century ago. The US has a respectable navy of 14 modern battleships and 23 pre dreadnought vessels. But in early 1917, the entire US army consists of 107,641 men and only ranks 17th largest in the world behind Serbia. Now that figure is slightly deceptive as each of the 48 states has its own military. These descendants of the colonial militias that are the national guard add another 132,000 bodies and the Marines bring another 15,500. But even taken altogether, the US military is woefully small for a global conflict of millions. In fact, Germany's recently returned to unrestricted submarine warfare, banking on the US not being able to mobilize a large military fast enough to prevent a second Reich victory. Whew. Sounds like Uncle Sam has his work cut out for him. And picking the right commander for this yet to be born, Europe bound American Expeditionary Force, or aef, will be crucial. Enter General John J. Black Jack Pershing. Now there were other candidates. General Fighton Fred Funston could have done the job had he not died of a heart attack in February. While General Leonard Wood might have got the gig had he not disgusted Woodrow Wilson and his Secretary of War, Newton Baker with his willingness to throw Teddy Roosevelt under the bus in an obvious bid to curry favor. But in Blackjack, the duo sees exactly what they need. An experienced, disciplined, no nonsense commander who puts his nation before his own interests. Blackjack even has the look. A tall, Square Jawed, mustachioed 57 year old with a fairly full Set of graying hair. Oh yeah. If World War I were a Hollywood film, he still would have gotten the part selected. On May 10, 1917, Jack sails out of New York for England on the White Star Line's RMS Baltic. On the 28th, with an accompanying staff of just over 180, among them is the same trustworthy person. Personal aid from the hunt, from Pancho Villa, a young officer by the name of George S. Patton. Of course, building this army isn't a one man operation. And that same summer, Congress is passing wartime legislation. This starts on May 18, 1917 with the conscription Enabling Selective Service Act. Congress is plenty nervous about this. The first and last time the US relied on the draft during the Civil War, there were riots. So this time things will work differently. First, the faceless federal government won't do the conscripting. Instead, 4,648 selective service boards across the country will make decisions locally. Second, the rich can't buy their way out this time. Some still wonder though, in an immigrant nation where one third of the population is a first or second generation American, will such recent immigrants answer the call to arms? They most certainly do. On June 5, 10 million men in the initial required age range of 21 to 31 register for the draft. By the end of the month, over half a million are called up as 32 new army camps or cantonments are built at breakneck speed across the United States. The logistical struggles to train this new force are real. Communication isn't easy. 31% of the army can't read. And while most recruits speak English, the literate ones are sending letters home in 49 different languages. Okay, looks like the army will teach basic literacy and English. Supplies are too few as well, especially as US Gunmakers like Remington and Winchester have to retool. After years of catering to the Brits again, the army adapts. Civilian clothed soldiers drill with broomsticks rather than rifles. Many won't touch a gun until they get to France, where supplies will continue to come up short. Fast tracking an army is also expensive. So how will Congress foot the bill? First, through income tax. Or as progressive Senator Robert La Follette puts it, a conscription of wealth. The War Revenue act of 1917 increases corporate taxes to 6% for personal income taxes. It lowers exemptions and raises the highest tax bracket on multi million dollar earners from 13% to 67%. 15% of American families are paying income tax now and the top 1% is furnishing 80% of the revenue. That will only cover about 1/3 of the war's cost though. So Treasury Secretary William McAdoo turns to war bonds. The quickly formed war Supporting Committee on public information 75,000 plus volunteer public speakers aka the Four Minute Men give four minute speeches encouraging democracy loving Americans to give their Uncle Sam a Liberty Loan. By purchasing these Liberty bonds, it's enormously successful and raises a staggering $21 billion that will do the trick. Yet for all the talk of liberty, Congress is also limiting free speech. In 1917, that means the Espionage act and 1918 will bring the Sabotage act and Sedition act together. These laws make almost any naysaying against the war or government illegal. One crazy example is Robert Goldstein who spends years in prison because his Revolutionary War film The Spirit of 76 is deemed anti Allied powers propaganda for depicting 18th century British soldiers as the bad guys. Meanwhile, socialists become the big target. In fact, when socialist Eugene Debs stands as a presidential candidate yet again in 1920, he'll do so from prison. Books are banned, radio stations seized. In short, the Espionage, Sabotage and Sedition act so forcefully trampled the constitutional right to free speech that even Federalists who supported the Alien and sedition Acts of 1798 are rolling over in their graves. From the Herbert Hoover led FDA to the temporarily public run railroads rapidly mobilizing for the Great War means the federal government is playing a far larger role in the lives of Americans than ever before. Some of these changes are temporary. Others will prove permanent. But we can't dwell on the domestic side of things all day. We need to follow the first American troops heading to the Western Front this summer, even if they still need more training. In late June 1917, 15,000 men from the recently organized First Division, aka the Big Red One, join General Black Jack Pershing in France. They arrived just in time for the fourth of July. That Independence Day, three companies and a regimental band marched through the streets of Paris. Well, march is a strong word for these half trained soldiers, but the French cheer anyway. The parade ends at Pic Pous Cemetery at the grave of the Marquis de Lafayette. A fitting location. Feels like someone should say something. Not one for speech making, Black Jack looks to the eloquent Colonel Charles E. Stanton. Standing before the large French crowd, Charles bellows out, what we have in blood and treasure are yours. In the presence of your illustrious dead, we pledge our hearts and our honor in carrying this war to a successful conclusion. A beautiful thought, but the Colonel tugs at every French and American heartstring with his next line. Addressing America's eternally resting French founding father, Charles proclaims Lafayette Mousams ICI that is Lafayette. We are here. Pure poetry. The crowd erupts with approval. The Colonel's words were sincere. But rather than blood and treasure, all the first Division can really offer as it makes a new home some 150 miles east of Paris at Gondrecoux Le Chateau on July 10, is to keep training. That's not enough for the French and British brass. They're impatient. They're running on fumes. French General Robert Nivelle's disastrous offensive recently caused the famous French mutinies, in which tens of thousands, thousands of poilus made it clear that they'll defend their country, but not needlessly charged to their deaths. So the Allies need Americans in the trenches now? No. Yesterday, they press General Black Jack Pershing to amalgamate U.S. forces with theirs. That is, to insert U.S. troops into British and French companies. Doing so, they claim, will let his rookie troops learn from their experienced soldiers and get the doughboys to the front. Front immediately. That's a hard no from Blackjack. He won't allow Americans to be treated as reservists or cannon fodder in the British and French armies. They will fight under their own leadership, maintaining their identity as Americans, and in the process prove that the American soldier is every bit the equal of a tommy or a poilus. Besides, this is what the President wants. Blackjack has secret orders stating that the forces of the United States are a separate and distinct component of the combined forces, the identity of which must be preserved. Even so, the American commander is eager to see his troops progress and has no patience with the 1st Division's slow progress. It's October 3, 1917. With little notice given, General Blackjack troops. Pershing has arrived at Gondrecourt to assess the first Division's training. He watches as the troops demonstrate a new method they've been working on for attacking an enemy trench. When the exercise is over, Black Jack turns to the 1st Division's commander, General William Siebert, and asks him to critique it. William stumbles over his words, and this is when Blackjack loses it. He rips into William, calling him a terrible general and commenting on the poor training of the troops. He does this publicly in front of William's own officers. One young captain is furious. He feels that was unfair and starts to pipe up, but Blackjack is uninterested. He shrugs and walks off. The young, lowly captain won't let it go, though. Stepping forward, he grabs the commander of the American Expeditionary Force by the arm and says, general Pershing, there's something to be said here, and I think I should say it because I've been here longest. Blackjack's piercing gaze burns into the young captain's face. The other officers look on, mortified. Finally, the commander coolly answers, what have you got to say? The captain doesn't hold back. They lack equipment, clothes, even shoes, and have poor sleeping conditions. Then he dares to point out where the failings actually lie with higher command, not big Red one's General. Calm but evidently upset, Blackjack responds, well, you must appreciate the troubles we have. He then starts to walk back to his car. Emboldened, the captain shouts after Blackjack, yes, General, but we have them every day and many a day, and we have to solve every one of them by night. Inadequate supplies, the slow arrival of more troops, constant pressure from the French and British to send insufficiently trained Americans to the front under their command. It's nothing but stress for American leadership as they try to birth an army. Meanwhile, this bright, bold young officer, Captain George C. Marshall, is sure that his career as an officer just died. He's wrong. But others are dying. Exactly one month from this early October day, the AEF will see its first deaths in the trenches of the Western Front. It's an early, PITCH Black morning, 3am Nov. 3, 1980. Soldiers from the 1st Division's 16th Infantry Company F are keeping a watchful eye while manning the trenches in the Sommervillet sector, just a few miles northeast of Nancy, France. That's right. After months of training at Gondrecourt with the French 47th Chasseurs Division, aka the Blue Devils, American soldiers are at the front. It's a small taste, though, quite intentionally. These doughboys have been sent to one of the quietest sectors so they can experience real trenches with little to no risk. Basically, this is advanced training, or at least that's how it's worked right up to this point. Suddenly, German artillery comes crashing down near the American lines. This continues for 45 minutes while the 7th Bavarian Landville Regiment sneaks across 500 yards of no Man's Land. American machine machine gunners open fire as the German troops close in. But they're too late. The line is flanked. Hand to hand combat ensues as German soldiers pour into the American trench. The rookie Americans have never fought in close quarters for their lives before, let alone in the dark. The seasoned German soldiers, aware they're fighting the inexperienced doughboys, use this to their advantage. Asked who he is by his silhouette, using perfect English, Corporal James Gresham answers, I'm an American too, don't shoot. And that's when the German with an excellent American accent shoots him in the head. This German lightning raid wasn't a battle. It was merely a skirmish that resulted in less than 20American casualties. Eleven taken as prisoner, five wounded and three dead. Nor were those three doughboys the first American deaths of the war. Perhaps as many as 200Americans have already died fighting in the British, Canadian, French and yes, German armies. Even the AEF has seen one previous death. A doctor killed when German aviators bombed a hospital last month. But with no disrespect for these American lives lost, Corporal James Gresham, Private Merrill Hay, and the nearly decapitated Private Thomas enright of the 16th infantry are the Great War's first Americans to die while fighting in the name of America. Woodrow Wilson may have signed Congress's war resolution half a year ago, but the lifeblood of these three young men from Indiana, Iowa and Pennsylvania seeping into the French soil gave more meaning to that resolution than the President's ink ever could. This isn't lost on Americans back home reading about these deaths in the newspapers. Nor is it lost on French General Henri Bordeaux as he surveys the trenches the next day with the young American Captain George C. Marshall. The French commander arranges an impressive funeral service that includes taps and a 21 gun salute. George will never forget this kindness. But such kindness is a small reprieve among the ongoing strains and struggles of the American expeditionary force as 1917 draws to a close. Close. Internally, the AEF is feeling growing pains as its ranks swell to 175,000 in January 1918. These include a few regular army divisions, as well as the National Guard's 26th Yankee Division and 42nd Rainbow Division, so called because its Chief of staff, Douglas MacArthur, compared the division's multi state national representation to a rainbow. Yet the shortage of supplies remains dire. American minds drift to George Washington at Valley Forge. While Blackjack will later recall, we were literally beggars as to every important weapon except the rifle. The French and British step up to provide arms and clothing. Yet even this goes a bit sideways. The Rainbow Division's heavily Irish American 165th, or as it was previously known in the Civil War. The fight in 69th is less than enthusiastic about their army issued British tunics. Thank goodness for their chaplain, Father Francis Duffy. He calms the lads and acts to ensure this doesn't happen again before too many tunics are burned in protest. Of course, the biggest frustration the AEF has with its supply giving allies is their continued pressure to amalgamate Blackjack likewise continues to resist. Not only does the American commander disapprove of the Allies training methods, which excludes open warfare, to focus exclusively on trench warfare, but again, he will not send his troops into battle less than fully trained or under a foreign flag. In fact, the word allies is perhaps too strong. Seeking to preserve American identity and avoid any, George Washington cautioned against entangling alliances with Europe. President Woodrow Wilson prefers to call the United States States an associate power fighting alongside the Allies, but not as one of them. Yeah, this is getting awkward, especially as Russia's exit from the war enables Germany to strike hard in France that March. We don't want to get too deep into the Russian Revolution and the end of the Eastern Front, especially since that's what episode 130 was for. But here's a quick refresher. Early last year, 1917, a longcoming revolution broke out in the Empire's capital of Petrograd, or as you and I will later know it, St. Petersburg. Tsar Nicholas II abdicated in favor of his brother, who in turn refused the crown. Without a new constitution going into effect first, a provisional government of conservatives and liberals took the reins, while the Russian socialists formed a Soviet, or in English a Soviet, meaning a council. These socialists fell into two major the more moderate compromising faction, unjustly known as the minority or Mensheviks, and the more extremist, unyielding revolutionary faction that with no greater accuracy but far greater PR sense called themselves the majority or Bolsheviks. Their founder and leader, Vladimir Lenin, was long ago exiled, but amid the chaos of the Russian Revolution, the Germans were happy to get him a one way ticket on a no papers checking train back to Petrograd last April. He then led the Soviet in overthrowing the Provisional government in late 1917's October Revolution, focusing on solidifying its new government. Lenin's Bolshevik government was happy to hit pause on the war and signed an armistice with Germany that December. The Second Reich saw blood in the water though and demanded that Soviet led Russia grant Eastern Europe independence as several separate states, over which of course Germany would exert control. The Bolsheviks hated the terms, but with Lenin's insistence, they accepted giving up claims to the Ukraine, Poland, Finland, the Baltic States and more. Russia signs the Treaty of Brest Litovsk on March 3, 1918. Germany sees opportunity after nearly four years of war. Finally, it doesn't have to fight on two fronts. This frees up three 50 divisions, or roughly 750,000 German troops that can now head to the Western Front. Germany's highly effective and Daring General Erich Ludendorff intends to use these soldiers to devastate the Allies before the United States can shift the scales. And thus it is that While Colonel Douglas MacArthur is earning a Silver Star and going temporarily blind from a gas attack in early March, the second hike is moving this massive flag force of experienced warriors west to hit France harder than it has since 1914. This campaign, Germany's victory Drive, or spring offensive, begins in the vicinity of the Somme river on March 21, 1918. And by God, it starts strong. Following a massive barrage of some 6,600 pieces of artillery across 50 miles of trenches, more than 70 German divisions advance against less than 30 British divisions. Well, rested, seasoned, expert German soldiers known as Stormtroopers lead the way. The sun sets on more than 7,000 British corpses as another 21,000 British troops are taken as prisoners of war. It's a grim situation for the outnumbered Allies. The British Fifth army has been all but demolished. The Allied lines have been pushed back several miles. Seeing an even greater need for coordination, the Supreme War Council names French General Ferdinand Foch as General in Chief of the Allied armies, or Persuader in Chief, as historian David R. Woodward puts it. Since each Allied nation's commander in chief retains tactical control of his respective army, the Allies bring the Germans to a halt. But with casualties racking up by the hundreds of thousands, thousands. In a mere two weeks, both Britain and France's respective prime ministers, David Lloyd George and Georges Clemenceau, beg President Woodrow Wilson to send more Americans. Training be damned. The war will be lost without them. In the words of Britain's Minister of Munitions, Winston Churchill, the use to be made of all these great numbers of men, their organization, their training, their ammunition, their food and clothing, all were questions to be solved later on. Naturally, the Allies continue to press for amalgamation, for American troops to be absorbed under British and French command. Indeed, the Allies outlook grows even more dire as the Germans renew their offensive on April 9. This time, they hammer the British Third army and a Portuguese division in Flanders. The Tommies hold, but everything is on the line. Line. If the Germans break them here and push through to the sea, the war is lost. British General Sir Douglas Haig makes that clear two days later, April 11, with his special order of the day, which reads, there is no other course open to us but to fight it out. Every position must be held to the last man with our backs to the wall. The safety of our homes and the freedom of mankind alike depend upon the conduct of. Of each one of us at this critical moment, with their backs to the wall. The British hold the line, but with heavy casualties and a knowledge that the British spring offensive isn't over. Another attack will come. And in this environment, the British and French press General Jack Pershing all the more to amalgamate his forces. Fine. Of those American forces fully prepared to fight, Jack gives the French four regiments, four black regiments. But that story is for another day. Right now, the pressure on Jack to amalgamate his forces is as high as ever. And the first issue raised a few weeks later at the supreme war Council. It's May 1, 1918. We're in northern France, 12 miles south of the English Channel and the town of Abbeville, where allied leaders of the Supreme War Council are just sitting down for a meeting. There are too many here to introduce everyone by name, but they include the British, French and Italian prime ministers, as well as officials in top brass from these three countries, plus the United States. It's a room full of mustaches. So, so many mustaches. And Europeans dead set on convincing General Jack Pershing to let his troops fight in their armies. French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau, or the Tiger, as this fierce French politician who speaks fluent English is known, pipes up first. He's heard tell of an agreement between the US and Britain for the 120,000American troops arriving in May to augment British forces. And in his mind, fair is fair. He says France should get June's shipment of 120,000Americans. Blackjack answers, there is no agreement between my government or the commanders in chief or anybody else that any single American soldier should be sent to either the British or to the French. He further clarifies that British ships are merely helping to transport six divisions of American infantrymen and machine gunners to France. Roughly 120,000 soldiers. That's it. No further agreements were made. Prime Minister David Lloyd George now speaks up. He suggests that Americans coming in June should go wherever the need is greatest. The decision regarding the allocation of American troops in June should be taken when that month arrives. That is to say, the decision depends upon who would have to bear the brunt, the British or the French. Supreme Commander Ferdinand Foch adds his thoughts. Thoughts. He has a slightly different take. The British suffered very heavily at the start of the present battle, but lately the French have also had grave losses. As such, he suggests that May's shipment of Americans should go to the British. Yes, but Junes. Ideally, all infantry and machine gunners should go to the French. The French and British prime ministers both nod in agreement. This is enough for Blackjack. He's Fine, seeing his divisions in the trenches with the French or British while they train. But listening to them speak of Americans like their own draftees is too much. He pushes back. I speak for the United States government and for myself when I say that we look forward to a time when the United States will have its own army. I must insist on it being recognized. David Lloyd George quickly agrees. It would be unreasonable and impertinent on our part to treat American troops as drafts for the British army. But proving himself worthy of his nickname, the Welsh wizard, he then pivots to pitch immediate amalgamation with an American army being a good long term goal. Referring to the German spring offensive, David cautions, we are, however, now fighting what is probably the decisive battle of the war. The impasse continues. Frustrated, Ferdinand Fos gets hypothetical. You are willing to risk our being driven back to the Loire? Yes, I am willing to take the risk. The Welsh wizard counters. Can't you see that the war will be lost unless we get this support? This is when the American commander hits his limit and the table. Gentlemen, I have thought, thought this program over very deliberately and will not be coerced. With those words, Jack walks off. Amalgamation raises so many issues. Differences of training, national prestige, perceptions back home. And of course, crucially, would the Brits and French protect American lives like their own? And yet, this is when the brash young officer, George C. Marshall, believes Blackjack rose to greatness, seeing Germany's menacing position. As the weeks pass, the American commander sets all of these very real concerns aside. He's still not okay with long term amalgamation. But on May 28, Jack puts his imperfect American accented French to use as he tells General Ferdinand Foch, enfanterie, artieri aviation tous CE que nous avant et avous disposition comme il vous plara. That is infantry, artillery, aviation, all that we have is yours. Use them as you please. It's a magnanimous move, one received with relief and joy by the Allies. But they can't celebrate just yet. With only 162 divisions to take on Germany's 200 divisions in France, the Allies are still outnumbered in this fight. Can they win? Will Black Jack's undertrained and ill supplied expedition force ever become an independent American army? We'll get those answers in the episodes to come.