Memoirs of 2dLt W. B. Jackson, USMC
TOWARD AN UNKNOWN FRONT
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About the 29th or 30th of May were received orders to roll our gear and stand by that afternoon for auto truck camions. We did and fell out along the roadside. But no camions. We stood by until evening and then went back into town to a big open building or shed. Had a skimpy chow and were told not to unroll our gear but to get what sleep we could. In the early morning hours the camions arrived and we embarked. Nobody seemed to have any idea where we were heading or why all the hush hush sort of embarkation. The camions were driven by Chinese coolies-two to each truck. They spoke no English so they couldn't tell us anything. About seat height along each side of the camion was a wide plank. We occupied these, seated as close as possible side by side. We clanked off down the street out of town and on along the country highway. We got some sleep the rest of the night as we bounced along. About 8 or 9 o'clock the next morning we passed through the city of Meaux. This told us where we were but not our destination. Scuttlebutt began to have it we were going up to relieve the French and meet a successful German drive through the French lines toward the Marne river in that area. From Meaux on we passed an unbroken line of civilians going the opposite direction. Many were pushing wheelbarrows or carts loaded with household effects-old people tottering along on
canes and even crutches. Mothers carrying babies and maybe leading 2 or 3 small children now and then a cow or goat etc. The people were exhausted and looked completely broken. This was the only time I saw refugees fleeing before and advancing enemy. It was a pitiful sight. Practically no young or middle aged men. One very old lady gave up and sat down in the road on her bag. About that time a 2 seat French staff car came down the road towards Meaux. The passenger was a French officer with a bloody bandage around his head. They reached the old lady-the car stopped-the officer got out, loaded the old lady and her bag in the seat. The officer sat down on the car hood and away they went. Gallantry was still alive.
As we had passed through Meaux the balconies on the houses were filled with women and girls. They blew kisses at us and showered our trucks with flowers. But many were weeping-apparently wondering what the future held but hoping against hope that "Les Yanks" could and would handle it. This sort of thing-refugee lines etc., continued all the way to Montreil Aux Lions but by then had ceased. Midday or a little after found us at Montreil. We passed on through and down the highway towards Chateau Thierry for several miles. It was a beautiful, sunny day without a cloud in the sky.
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