We don't know much about the drill
The Doughboys have to do.
But we'll make the Kaiser clear the track
And, boys we'll shoot her through!
We'll highball down the Aisne and Somme,
And this is what we'll do--
We'll ramble into Germany With the old Red, White and Blue.
--Song of the Railroad Engineers.
Somewhere in France -- anywhere in France -- everywhere in France -- you'll see it -- the red and white hat cord. It maybe mud spattered, it may be faded; it may, as a matter of fact, be "back home" in a hut or a tent or a box car while the nominal wearer thereof is out with his blue denim hat and his overalls, and a pick or a wrench or a slide rule or a shovel, hand or steam.
While the doughboy has been running his whetted bayonet through a stuffed sack or the real thing, while the artillery sharps have been whanging away at a real or an imaginary enemy, while the aviators have been getting the balance of their wings and the men to come their final grooming, the men with the red and white hat cords and the castles on their collars have been -- working. Yes, more than that, they have been laboring. They have been driving the stakes and raising the tents for the big show. You have heard about the biggest refrigerator in the world, the new docks, the American railways, the base hospitals, the supply depots. The engineers built 'em. You have seen, perhaps, the new locomotives and heard their reassuring, remind full whistle. The engineers put them together and the engineers are running them. From the first line to the most obscure nooks of French forests, anywhere and everywhere, you will see the engineer doing everything from laying steel while Fritz pours over "hot stuff" to trimming piles for a new dock. Engineer units were among the first to be organized after the United States entered the war. There were railroad regiments, highway regiments and other organizations for various varieties of work which far sighted Army officials deemed of imperative and primary importance. They were formed quickly, given short periods of training and hustled over here.
Some Training, More Work
And then, without further training or ado, most of them went to work. Some put down track silently behind the Cambrai front until an unexpected and now historical incident disclosed their where-abouts and their mettle. Others worked elsewhere within the radius of enemy guns with only brief bits of news now and then to tell that they were running trains which Hun artillery men tried to hit, or living in billets which Boche aviators dropped bombs upon. The rest scattered to the 57 corners of France and began laying the practical foundation for effective action and victory. One regiment, which got here last summer, made the dirt fly literally before the snow and rain flew and they kept it flying all winter. To this organization was given the work of enlarging a French port, to bring it up to American war time needs, and half a hundred secondary jobs, such as building a camp for themselves and later enlarging it into a huge rest camp capable of sheltering half a dozen incoming regiments: laying out an aviation field, and modernizing and remodeling a building which now is one of the important American base hospitals.
They Can Operate Anything
It has operated pile drivers, steam shovels, dredgers, work trains and dozens of lesser machines, requiring highly skilled workmen, and it has done in one winter what, to the ordinary construction contractor, would have been a two year job. The regiment now is divided and redivided. It is scattered over a third of France, with detachments in scores of cities, hamlets and villages, and some just camped out in the open, until captains and top sergeants, at pay roll and muster time, have to be in a dozen places at once. The men are making cuts and ballasting roadbed for trackage, unloading ties and rails and laying them, putting in a switch here, a tank or coal bunkers there. To the casual visitor over this part of France the method in the work is not obvious The men and the officers themselves do not fully understand the entire scheme themselves, but somewhere at the H.Q.D.G.T. or at G.H.Q. A.E.F., are a few men with estimates of yardage and work reports and special order blanks who do know. The work went on with a steady progress even through the winter, weather being at times a distressing, but never a retarding element. There where no days off for rain or snow or mud. If the rain fell, the men put on their oil skin suits and marched to the work undaunted, and if the mud was deep -- and it usually was -- they put on their rubber boots. They worked eight full hours a day seven days a week and this did not include the march to and from quarters.
Reveille Before Dawn
The engineers usually stood reveille before the first glimmer of dawn, and had their breakfast over and were at work by daylight. Their evening meal and retreat, usually "stood" in overalls or slickers, came after nightfall, and there were emergencies when the men worked in shifts and "kept the ball rolling" 24 hours a day. "We don't know much about the drill the doughboys have to do," the engineers sing. The reason is they haven't had time to learn. The engineers all have rifles, of course, and the get them out and, by the light of a candle. clean them, and oil them, and once in a while a company goes out and does squads right and platoons left just to keep up with the rudiments of the game. Some day, when there isn't any need for suppressing details, and the Army generals have more time to tell it, the story of the American engineer in this war will be written, and it will be a record of surprising achievement.
A Tribute from the Stars and Stripes
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