History of the 305th Field Artillery | Page 8

when they had put up sides and roofs. The rest we must do. We had many fences to build around them, and more land to clear for riding rings and paddocks. We were encouraged to enormous efforts on October 18th when the government presented us with eight mules. They were led to the most comfortable stable. They were treated as honored guests.
Quite fittingly, our first veterinarian, Lieutenant North, arrived soon after.
The problem of our missing field officer was solved on October 14th when Major Thomas J. Johnson reported. No one had an opportunity just then to know him very well or to judge him competently. It wasn't until we had reached France that we were to realize our good fortune. For on October 26th he was detailed to the School of Fire at Fort Sill. Major Wanvig left for the same destination on November 7th.
Without formal battalion commanders the work of the regiment continued, in view of the lack of equipment, amazingly well. Reserve officers of only a few months training displayed exceptional qualities of leadership. New soldiers wanted to learn. An artilleryman must be able to do more than use a sight, work a breach, or pull the lanyard. The chances of the draft had given the 305th a number of highly-educated specialists for the more complicated work of conduct of fire, and the delicate details of scouting and communication. To that important extent the regiment was already better off than some of the older organizations. By day the officers instructed and drilled the men, and by night the officers went to school themselves to Colonel Doyle and Lieutenant Colonel Stimson, who did the best they could with the slight material at hand to keep us abreast of artillery developments in the war zone. When finally we got to France we were over-whelmed to realize all we had to learn.
When now we glanced from the slope of Division Hill at the bleak landscape which only a few weeks before had aroused our skepticism we saw barracks, quarters, and department buildings rising from the ashes of the forest.
Piecemeal, during October, the regiment moved from the J section to its own area. The change was complete on October 24th. As we had policed J and its vicinity so we made our surroundings in M neat and military.
Officers and men received a fortunate impression of permanence. As long as we remained in Upton we would have our own home. Things, we felt in our ignorance, were going well. Even a band had been collected, and could play one or two pieces in public with comparative safety.
During the latter part of October and the first part of November the officers were brought a little closer to their mission. They were conducted by twos and threes to Sandy Hook to watch the practical working of projectiles and fuses; and forty attended a six-day artillery course in New Haven under the experienced instruction of Captain Dupont, of the French Army, and Captains Bland and Massey, of the Canadian artillery.
It was on these trips that most of the officers saw for the first time the famous soixaute-quinze. They admired it as a piece of artillery perfection without being able to guess that it would be their companion for many months, a thing nearly as animate as the men who served it.
What we actually got at Upton at this time was a single battery of venerable three-inch guns, relics of the 51st Field Artillery Brigade, New England National Guard. Lieutenant Colonel Stimson snared this for us, together with much other useful equipment which aroused the envy of less fortunate organizations who didn't have a former secretary of war. Certainly one battery among six was better than none.
When the guns arrived on November 10th the regiment gathered around them, patted them fondly, examined their mechanism, peered down their throats.
Pride leaped.
"God help Jerry when we show him these!'
But Jerry never saw them. Perhaps one day in the dust of some ordnance museum they may be observed by all the world-precious relics of the extended battle of the 305th at Camp Upton.
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III
ANDê HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH PAPER
WORK
PAPER WORK had now become our perpetual companion. Neither by night nor by day did he leave us lonely. He strutted at mess. He paraded across the drill ground. He sat by one's cot through the troubled watches of the night. It becomes, therefore, necessary to study the creature's habits.
Let us take a fanciful case that everyone can understand, since even in those early days Corn Willy was omnipresent. Let us suppose that a mess officer desires some information about this old friend. His impulse might be to dash off a note like this:
"Capt. Blank. Dear Sir: Having heard that you've made a life study of the subject, it's occurred to me that you