|
a.
|
Note: WORLD WAR I MEMORIES OF GEORGE MEEKER SELEY Dictated to his daughter-in-law, Mary Nell Seley in 1967
I tried to enlist in Company C at Washington, Kansas, the summer of1917. I was working on a farm near Washington for a Mr. Woodford and CompanyC was maneuvering nearby. I was turned down then, but I was drafted inthe first draft on October 5, 1917. I was 24 years old, weighed 135pounds and was 5 feet and 7 1/2 inches tall. (World War I, or The Great War, started in Europe in 1914, but the United States Congress underPresident Woodrow Wilson, did not declare war on Germany until April 6, 1917.)
I reported first to Camp Funston at Fort Riley, Kansas. I was therethree weeks and did some training there. Then I was sent by train to FortSill, Oklahoma, to Camp Donnifan. There were approximately 50 men in thecamp, and I was there for about six months. I was in Company F, 110th Ammunition Train. Four horses pulled each caisson (or ammunitiontrain). Four men rode on each caisson, and two men rode on horseback, one on either side. The men drilled on horseback in the mornings, and onfoot, hiking with full field pack in the afternoon. We also spentconsiderable time on the rifle range.
About two months after arriving at Fort Sill, First Sergeant Fisher jokingly said, "Seley, you're lazy and no good for nothing else, sowe're going to make a bugler out of you." I had never blown a bugle, but Iwas sent to a bugler's training school there on the post, and was taughtby a private who had been in a bend. The school lasted one week, and there were 15 calls to learn. Reveille, Assembly, Mess Call (three times a day), Sick Call and Taps were the calls blown regularly.
My grandfather, John Meeker Crane, died at Vining, Kansas, on March18, 1918. I was on a six day hike at the time, and was told of his deathwhen I returned to camp. I was given a seven day leave and came home onthe train, but the funeral was over by the time I arrived.
In May, 1918, my company received orders for overseas. We wereshipped by train to New York -- 196 men in 16 coaches on a Union Pacific train.We were in New York for three days. We hiked to a camp about one and one half miles away and stayed there for two nights, and then we hiked tothe ship. It was an English ship, The Justishu, (I am not sure of the spelling, but that is the pronunciation with long u's.) The ship was13 decks high, and carried 10,000 American soldiers, all heading forFrance. Our ship, the largest, led a convoy of 17 ships. We were the centership with 8 smaller American ships on each side in a straight line.
Six days out to sea, a storm came up. At the height of the storm themen stood in ranks by the lifeboats for about two hours. We became lostfrom the convoy during the height of the storm and we were out of convoyfor about 72 hours.
The seventh day out, during the storm, a buddy became ill, and I andthe Company Clerk carried him to sick bay. He died a short time later of spinal meningitis. Me and five other soldiers who bunked near himwere quarantined for the rest of the voyage. A total of 12 men died aboard ship of spinal meningitis, and they were buried at sea. Only the one buddy, Jody, was from my company.
We landed at Liverpool about the first of June, 1918, after 14 days at sea. Me and my five quarantined buddies were first off the ship, andwe were taken to an army hospital in Liverpool, where we were quarantinedfor 21 more days. They took throat cultures each morning. None of thesix came down with spinal meningitis. The rest of the soldiers had sailedon to France.
After our quarantine was listed, I was sent to Camp Whiteside, near Liverpool. This was called a casual camp, where hospital releaseswere sent. When a group was large enough, they were sent to France to tryto join their own companies. Twice, I was ready and asked to be sent,but they held me there, saying they needed me as a bugler.
I was transferred from that casual camp to Camp Mosley Hill, another casual camp about 40 miles south-west of London, and about one and one half miles from Winchester. We went by train, about 200 milessouth-east of Liverpool.
I was impressed by the English railway system. Each railroad car had three compartments, and six or eight people could sit in eachcompartment, three or four on each side, facing each other. The railroad trackswere in man-made valleys about twelve feet deep, and there were bridgesover the trains at every crossing. I never saw any place in England wherea car or pedestrian could cross a railroad track except on an overhead bridge.
I saw very few cars in England at that time. There were mostlylimousines and quite a few military trucks, both English and American. Bicycleswere the main mode of transportation, for young and old. Men and women ofall ages rode bicycles -- always in the streets, not on the sidewalks.Most cabs were drawn by two horses, but the big beer wagons were drawn by a four-horse team.
Soon after I arrived at Camp Moslely Hill, one thousand men were takenoff of a ship, probably docked at Southampton, and taken to an Englisharmy hospital located about a mile from Camp Mosley Hill and one half milefrom Winchester. These were all American soldiers who were ill with spinal meningitis. (I don't know if these men were coming from New York and became ill aboaard ship, or were coming back from France.) These mendied at the rate of fifty a day, and all one thousand men died. Everysoldier at Camp Mosley Hill was set to work building coffins or digging gravesat a military cemetery outside of Winchester. They buried fifty a dayfor three weeks, and another bugler and I blew Taps in unison each morningfor their burial.
There were three camps about four miles south of Camp Mosley Hill. The American soldiers would come to Liverpool by ship from New York, thengo by train from Liverpool to Winchester, then march the four miles toone of these three camps. I, as a bugler, was selected at times to march the soldiers to one of these camps. We then rode, twenty five soldiers toan army truck, to the ships at Southhampton, another eight miles south.Then we rode across the channel to France.
While I was at Camp Mosley Hill I met a red haired girl named Alice Carter, from Winchester. I was able to get an occasional evening or Saturday afternoon pass, and we would go to a show together. I had tobe back to camp by 10 PM. I rode from camp to town and back in a horsedrawn cab. Five or six men could ride in each cab.
I recall that, sometime in August, 1918, I walked with some of mybuddies from camp to a field where about nine men were thrashing wheat. Fourof the men had one-horse-drawn two-wheeled carts. They picked up thebundles of wheat and put them on the carts, then drove the carts to theseparator. Only one man could feed the separator at a time, and only one bundleat a time. It took four men to run the separator. One was the engineer.The engine was separate from the separator, and great big belts ranbetween them. It was a steam engine, and one man hauled water to it, andanother man hauled coal. One man sacked the wheat as it ran from theseparator. The sacks were a heavy white material, and each held two bushels ofwheat. (That's only eight men - maybe one man was a supervisor.) I struck up a conversation with the engineer, and asked him how many bushels of wheat they could thresh in one day. He said on a good runthey could thresh 225 bushels a day. He also said the wheat averagedthirty bushels to the acre. The engineer then asked, "How much do you Yanks thresh a day?" I said, "Well, on a good run, 2,500 bushels a day."The Englishman laughed and said, "Pull the other leg -- this one's gotbells on it!"
I explained to him that on a Kansas farm our engines and separatorswere two and one half times larger. The men had two-horse hayracks thatheld at least four times more than their two-wheeled carts, and fourhayracks could feed bundles into the separator at the same time. An averageKansas threshing crew was 12 to 17 men, with 8 or 10 hayracks. All of the soldiers I was with were from the city, so they, as well as the Englishmen, thought I was a tall-story teller.
I had never seen potato raising on the scale the English raised them, though. They had potato fields as big as 20 acres, and they hadtwo-horse drawn listers that dug them up. The ground was covered by potatoes,and men, women and children came down the rows with sacks, and picked the potatoes up by hand. Potatoes were used for bread and beer, as wellas for table use.
I was at Camp Mosley Hill on November 11, 1918, when the Armistice was signed at 11 AM. We didn't get the word until 11 PM that night, andmost of the men were asleep. There was no more sleep the rest of thatnight! The din was deafening -- guns were shot off, and the yells and cheerswent on all night long.
I remember at least three trips we made, by army truck, all the way to Southhampton. The first two were during the war, but the last one was after the war was over. It was a big Young Men's ChristianAssociation affair, with a big dinner at noon, and games and races all afternoon. English civilians and both English and American soldiers were there.Some of my buddies and I entered the mile run contest. (George didn't sayif they won or lost.)
That Thanksgiving, three hundred of us were invited to services at Winchester Cathedral. We were told to shine our shoes and look ourvery best. We marched in formation the mile and a half to the Cathedral,and we were guests at the morning service. Then we marched back to campand were treated to a big, delicious Thanksgiving dinner.
I was a frequent visitor in the Carter home in Winchester, and they invited me to their home for Christmas dinner. I brought Mr. Carter a pound of American chewing tobacco, and he was thrilled beyond words. I never saw or heard from Alice Carter after I transferred from CampMosley Hill.
In early January, 1919, five hundred men from a nearby casual campwere to be sent home, and I was sent to join them. We were to leave on thenoon train from Winchester to Liverpool, where we were to board the shipfor home. Not long before noon, orders were received that 144 of the men would be held back and chosen to be Military Police. I was one of the 144. We were trained for two weeks, then divided into groups offorty. My forty were sent to London, and we were there for two weeks.
Becoming an M.P. meant that I was no longer a bugler. I was able tokeep my bugle, though, and brought it back to Kansas. (Note: Marvinremembers his dad playing the calls for the family occasionally. The bugle disappeared by the time Marvin and his brothers came home from WorldWar II. They wondered if it was contributed to "The War Effort", as itwas made of brass.)
From London, my group was sent to guard an American military prison located one mile from Windsor. We were there for forty days guarding twenty five American army prisoners. This was a very rough jobbecause the prisoners dared us to shoot them, they were very belligerent.While I was there some of the men dug a tunnel under the prison with spoonsand mess kits. They had it dug about two thirds of the way to the riverbank, forty feet from the prison, when a prisoner told an M.P. about it.They were caught that night in the act of tunneling. The officer in charge(a Major) forced the prisoners involved till the hole back up, and they received no food or water until it was done.
While I was stationed near Windsor, me and a group of other American soldiers watched the Changing of the Guard, and saw the King and Queen once in their royal limousine. The King and Queen waved to us, and of course, we waved back.
I was transfered next to Liverpool. This was far more pleasant work, policing the streets of Liverpool. I was there for three months.While there my buddy and I met Annie Smith and her girl friend as they camefrom a show. A few nights later, I made a date with Annie and took her toa show. A week later, Annie invited me to her home, and I met hersister, Mary. The next night, Annie, Mary and I all went to a show together. After that, I only came to see and date Mary.
The first part of May, 1919, I was transferred back to London, but toa different camp. I was there for two weeks and I couldn't get Mary offof my mind. I wrote to her and asked her to marry me and come back to America with me. She accepted my proposal by letter, and we made our wedding plans by mail. I got a seven day leave and a marriage permit,and went back to Liverpool, arriving at 2 PM. I met Mary at the Boraxfactory where she worked and we got our marriage license that afternoon.
Mary Agnes Smith and I were married at 2 PM, May 24, 1919, in AllSaints Parish Church, Stoneycroft, Liverpool, according to the Rites and Ceremonies of the (Episcopal) Church of England. My buddy, EdwardWilliam Flory, (also an M.P.), and Mary's sister, Adelaide May Smith (Addie), stood up with us. Mary wore a Periwinkle Blue gown, and I wore my uniform. Mary's parents, her sisters, her brother, and a few close friends attended the wedding. Father Whittingham Jones performed the ceremony. Edward Flory, Adelaide Smith and Charles Smith signed as witnesses. I was 27 years old and Mary lacked four days of being 21years old.
Mr. & Mrs. Smith hosted a big wedding dinner in their home thatevening. Relatives, friends and neighbors attended and wished the couple well.I
spent the rest of my leave in the Smith home, then I reported back to London and began making arrangements for Mary's passage to America.
I returned to Liverpool on June 10 to pick up my bride. We went bycab to the dock, and boarded an American ship at 11 AM on June 11. This wasa much smaller ship, only six decks high, 180 feet long, and 36 feetwide. There were 2,400 soldiers and 32 English war brides who boarded at Liverpool. We then sailed to France and were docked there for fivehours while taking aboard 600 more American soldiers. No one could leavethe ship while we were docked in France. This made a total of 3,000soldiers and the 32 English brides.
The soldiers were coming home, but Mary and these other brides were leaving their homes and making their first trip to America with a new husband. The women were separated from their husbands aboard theship, but, with typical American ingenuity, the new husbands found ways tospend some private times with their wives. Not surprisingly, Mary andseveral other wives, found themselves pregnant when they landed in New York on June 27th, 16 days later.
The soldiers and the 32 brides were taken to an army camp in New York,and the husbands and wives were separated here, also. I received mydischarge on June 28, 1919, and received $60.00 bonus pay, including travel payback to Kansas. We arrived in Junction City by train on July 2, 1919. Ihad been gone 632 days.
****** Obituary: George M. Seley, 85, formerly of 703 S. Washington, diedMonday at Brookside Manor in Overbrook. Funeral services will be 10 AMThursday at the Mass-Hinitt-Alexander Funeral Home with Monsignor Thomas Keogan officiating.
Burial will be in St. Mary's Cemetery with full military honors at graveside.
Mr. Seley was born December 1, 1892, near Milford, the son of Francisand Clara Seley. He was engaged in farming until 1937, when he became employed with Civil Service at Fort Riley. He retired from that in1946.
On May 24, 1919, in Liverpool, England, he was married to Mary A.Smith. She preceded him in death on May 13, 1962.
He was a member of St. Xavier's Catholic Church, VFW Post 1594 and the Veterans of World War I.
Survivors include three sons, Francis of Abilene, Eugene ofSpringfield, Illinois, and Marvin of Scranton; two daughters, Mrs. O. L. (Burnice)Bane of Cleburn, Texas, Mrs. Robert (Gladys) Bachmann of Topeka; threesisters, Ruth Iames and Mildred Morris of Topeka and Myrtle Kahle of Overbrook;15 grandchildren; and 19 great grandchildren.
Two brothers, Alva and Merrel, preceded him in death.
Casketbearers will be Robert Bachmann, Mark Bachmann, James Seley,Dean Hansen, Vernon Ediger and Kay Heldstab.
Friends may call anytime Wednesday at the Mass-Hinitt-AlexanderFuneral Home. A memorial has been established to the American Cancer Society.
|
