Claude Moore Fuess,
Phillips Academy, Andover in the Great War.

New Haven: Yale, 1919



To speak of Fame a venture is,
There's little here can bide,
But we may face the centuries,
And dare the deepening tide:
For though the dust that's part of us
To dust again be gone,
Yet here shall beat the heart of us,--
The School we handed on."

ANDOVER HILL in the spring of 1917 seemed little different in architecture or landscape from what it had been in the years immediately preceding. The great spreading elms still reached aloft to form the stately arch which remains the school's most distinguishing feature; the buildings, oddly combining the antique and the modern, the ugly and the graceful, nevertheless blended picturesquely to form a scene which will always have about it much that is romantic; the level lawns and playing-fields stretched out in wide expanse, and beyond them, across the valleys, one could still catch glimpses of the immemorial hills. Externally the old Academy stood apparently immutable, unaffected visibly by time or circumstance. Brick and mortar, trees and ridges, do not change readily; only decades, or some mighty convulsion of nature, can effect transformations that endure.

Yet there was a real change, of a kind that comes but seldom in a century and then only because of a disturbance in the hearts of men. One felt it in the air, or caught its echoes even before he had mounted the Hill. A new force, spiritual but yet dynamic, was making cheeks glow and pulses beat more rapidly. It led the historian to hark back to that day, more than one hundred and thirty-nine years before, when, while the nation, hardly born, was struggling for very existence, the school too had come into being, cradled in the midst of the passions of war. Now that nation, grown to maturity, was once more engaged in a contest for human liberty; and the men of Phillips Academy, a national institution, were reincarnating the virtue of its founders. With that zeal which a righteous war alone can inspire, the school of Samuel Phillips, Revolutionary patriot, was preparing its sons to battle with Apollyon. And so one met on the paths young fellows in army khaki, clear-eyed, erect, firm of step; one listened on holiday afternoons to the stirring sound of drum and bugle, beating out the tramp of companies; and one heard in chapel and classroom much talk of war and praise of staunch fighting men. A stupendous crisis in world development had confronted civilization, and the fate of the country was to rest largely with its boys,---boys like those who for decades had played care-free beneath the shadow of the venerable oaks and elms. Boys of the same breed had marched in 1814 through the streets of Boston, shouldering picks and shovels, to work on the city fortifications; and a generation later, in 1861, their children had formed the Ellsworth Guards to defend the Union. This business of 1917 was even more serious, almost cataclysm; but the boys were not to fail.

Phillips Academy cannot, of course, claim any special credit for its promptness in rallying to the support of the nation; a similar loyalty is common, we trust, to all American institutions established on democratic and liberal ideas. Schools of its type are essentially American, with nothing exotic or alien about them.

They are sprung from native soil and nurture American air. But Andover, unlike some other centers of education, has preferred, when our national honor was involved, to lead public opinion rather than merely to keep step with it. Its Principal, never wavering in his policy of keeping his school consistently true to its ideals, took from the beginning a position which it often required courage to sustain. The result was that, while some vacillated or temporized, Phillips men were getting ready; and when, on April 6, 1917, the President's ringing. Declaration of War voiced the sentiment of a united people, these same men were on their way almost before the last syllable had ceased to reverberate. It is for this reason especially that they may well have a peculiar pride in the record of their alma mater,---a record which, it is safe to say, no other American school is likely to surpass.

A study of school psychology during the anxious months from July, 1914, to April, 1917, exhibits, on a smaller scale, the remarkable evolution which turned a land of comfortable, peace-loving citizens into a huge training camp, the business of which was war. We are sometimes likely to forget, in these days of international conferences and leagues of nations, how provincial, how self-centered, we were only five short years ago. European diplomacy and intrigue were then, for the average man, if not a sealed book, at least volume always half-closed and in an untranslatable tongue. When the Great War broke out in Europe in midsummer, 1914, even far-sighted Americans failed at first to penetrate to the real causes and the possible consequences of German aggression. It is significant that, during the previous four years at Phillips Academy, Prussian Exchange professors had been regular members of the teaching staff; and even in 1914-15 another native German occupied a position on the Faculty without exciting any unfavorable comment. In its tolerance and totally unsuspicious attitude, Andover was not different from thousands of other communities.

In accordance with the terms of President Wilson's proclamation of August 18, 1914, surface neutrality, at least in the classroom and in public gatherings, was for some months sedulously observed. The clank of iron heels in hapless Belgium, however, together with the rapidly accumulating proof of Prussian atrocities, excited strong anti-German sentiment throughout New England. But no formal action of any kind was taken, and the abhorrence of German methods of warfare and of the wanton disregard of neutral and civilian rights was expressed only in homes,---although there vigorously and frankly enough.

Public sentiment, however, was gradually, often almost unconsciously, undergoing a transformation. Andover was particularly fortunate in having General Leonard Wood as one of the earliest interpreters of America's duty and responsibility. On November 12, 1914, the Honorable Henry L. Stimson, ex-Secretary of War and a Trustee of Phillips Academy, brought General Wood with him to Andover, and that stalwart and stout-hearted soldier spoke in the Stone Chapel. The burden of his address was the necessity of immediate and thorough preparation for war. His warning words fell too often on deaf ears; but to those who look back and recall his solemn injunctions, he seems like a prophet crying in the wilderness. As a practical step for schools to take, he advised the establishment of summer military camps, and Mr. Stimson followed with an appeal for training in rifle shooting as part of the curriculum. It must be remembered that Phillips Academy had not, since the Civil War, maintained any properly organized military company. On the playing-fields and in the gymnasium, it is true, the boys had learned courage, persistence, obedience, ---the so-called martial virtues,---and they had been taught in other ways

To count the life of battle good,
And dear the land that gave them birth."

But what was now suggested was a systematic campaign towards "preparedness,"---the strange new word which was soon to be on everybody's lips. What General Wood and Mr. Stimson proposed was that Phillips Academy should be ready, and on thoughtful minds their words made a profound impression.

The gradually crystallizing sentiment of intelligent and patriotic Americans had a practical manifestation in the movement for sending an Andover Ambulance to the Allied front. During the fall of 1914, through Dr. Stearns's initiative, the sum of $750 was subscribed, in three equal parts, by the Trustees, the Faculty, and the student body, to provide a completely equipped Ford Ambulance, for foreign service. So far as can be ascertained, Phillips Academy was the first American preparatory school to join in this movement for relieving wounded soldiers. What was actually accomplished is told briefly by Mr. Frank H. Mason, of the American Hospital at Paris, in a letter to Dr. Stearns:

"It will doubtless interest you to know that the Motor Ambulance which you generously contributed to the transportation service of the American Ambulance Hospital of Paris, bears your name and is numbered 127 of our series. It forms part of the section of ten ambulances which was assigned in December last to duty with the Allied Army at St. Maurice, on the eastern portion of the firing line, where they have transported thousands of wounded and rendered services so efficient and valuable as to earn the highest commendation and grateful appreciation of the military authorities."

The first driver was Mr. Eustace L. Adams of St. Lawrence University, who described most entertainingly some of the rough experiences through which he passed. In the autumn of 1915 the ambulance was turned over to another driver, Mr. Lawrence W. Hitt, who, in making a report of his work, wrote in part as follows:

"Car No. 127 was turned over to me in excellent condition, although the engine had not been overhauled since the April before. When one considers the kind of work which the cars did in Alsace, up hill and down, that was an enviable record. More powerful cars could do the trip, to be sure, but they could not stand up under the constant strain. . . . In some spots the roads are so steep that pushers must be stationed there to lend a helping band. Fortunately, Car No. 127 never needed their aid, even with a full load, although many times I had grave doubts whether she would make the crest or not. . . . By this time our cars were greatly in need of repairs, both the engines and bodies; so we were ordered to Tantonville, and the cars were sent to Nancy in groups of five, to have the work done. No. 127, being one of the oldest cars in the section, was in the first group. When the repairing is complete, I hope to get the old car back and take it through the great attack which is coming again this spring."

The car, after some renovation, proved to be still fit for regular duty, and Mr. A. Piatt Andrew, in a letter of December 22, 1916, gave facts to show that its usefulness was far from being destroyed:

"You will be interested, I am sure, to know that your cars form part of a detachment just sent to the Vosges under rather interesting conditions. We have had one or another section working over the mountainous roads in this region for the past twenty months. It was our section 3 which first developed the mountain work, and which demonstrated the possibility of carrying wounded up and down the mountains in regions where up to that time wounded had been carried only on mule-back or in horsedrawn carts. Recently our last Vosges section was withdrawn and sent to the Verdun sector, but within a week after its departure General Villaret, in command of the Vosges Army, sent word that no other cars could do the work which had been so long entrusted to our cars, and asked if we could not at once send out at least a detachment of our little cars to help in this service. We were able, through the reserve of cars which we have now established, to give such a detachment within two days, and you will be interested to know that your car No. 127 formed one of the detachment, and is therefore now rendering a service which none of the automobiles of the French Army Ambulance Service could have rendered."

The ambulance was driven throughout the winter of 1916-17, which was the coldest in the memory of the most ancient Alsatian peasant,---so cold that on two successive mornings drivers in the section found the "essence" frozen solid in the carburetor. Not until some months later was the car finally abandoned. The registration plate bearing the number 127 was sent to Phillips Academy, where it has been placed in the Library as a priceless relic of the war.

Mr. Stimson's suggestion regarding the formation of a volunteer rifle club was considered on February 8, 1915, at a meeting of the Trustees, who passed the following vote:

"That the Principal be authorized to carry out plans for voluntary instruction in rifle shooting in the school in accordance with the scheme outlined and presented by Captain Dorey of the United States Army."

On March 1, Lieutenant Stockton of the Coast Artillery Corps gave an introductory talk to the boys on the system which it was proposed to follow. Nearly one hundred enrolled at this first meeting. From the War Department a considerable number of discarded Krag rifles were secured, and sighting was taught on stationary guns set up temporarily in Graves Hall. The Rifle Club was registered as a branch of the National Rifle Association of America, and work in connection with it was counted as part of prescribed athletics.

Interest in the Rifle Club increased month by month. During the fall and winter of 1915-16 nearly two hundred students joined and took the course of instruction. The Trustees gladly built an excellent indoor sub-calibre range, seventy-five feet long with six alleys, in the basement of Pearson Hall. There tournaments were frequently held; each member shot under supervision, and his score, in accordance with the National Rifle Association regulations, was carefully checked by inspectors. With the establishment of military training as part of the school program, the rifle range became indispensable and was constantly in use. During the year 1916-17 the Phillips Academy team finished second in the contest of the Massachusetts Association and defeated a team from Exeter by a score of 1157 to 1013. In the spring term all who had qualified on the indoor range were allowed to shoot on the outdoor government ranges at Frye Village, the distance being two hundred yards. In the qualification trials on the range at Wakefield four members of the club won the bronze badges of expert marksmen, and the record of the others was highly commendable.

Meanwhile a sense of the critical nature of the European conflict, together with some apprehension as to our possible share in it, was steadily developing. The sinking of the "Lusitania" on May 7, 1915, with the consequent tragic deaths of one hundred and fourteen American men, women, and children, withdrew from any sympathy with the German cause almost all those who had been wavering in their allegiance. At the Plattsburg camps in the summer of 1916 many Andover men were enrolled, including Dr. Page, Mr. Stackpole, and Mr. Poynter of the teaching staff; while Mr. Wilkins, another instructor, went on the Naval Training Cruise. Everywhere men were thinking and discussing, getting ready to take sides in what was quite evidently a contest to the death between Ormuzd and Ahriman, the Prince of Darkness. Already, on July 3, 1915, one Phillips boy, Antoine Henri Engel, had given his life at the front for his native country, France. A small group of younger graduates, among them John F. Brown, Jr., '14, and William H. Woolverton, '10, had gone abroad in the American Ambulance Service, and were doing a noble work among the wounded.

It was these boys in the Ambulance Service who first carried the war intimately to the Hill. They wrote back accounts of their experiences which brought home the reality of the horrors taking place on the fields of France. One of them, Julius H. Preston, '14, who had sailed for France in February, 1916, talked quite casually about his adventures:

"I was called out about ten o'clock the other evening to go up to one of the dangerous posts for four seriously wounded men. We drove for nearly eight miles in sight of the German trenches. The road is used only at night, and then we have to go without lights, and on stormy nights some one has to walk ahead of the car so that we won't run into a shell hole. I got these four men, but one of them died in the car, before I could get him to the hospital, and one of them bled nearly all the way and filled the car full of blood, which, considering it was about three in the morning before I got back, gave one a sort of eerie feeling."

Another ambulance driver, J. Radford Abbot, '09, sent a graphic story, printed in the Phillips Bulletin, January, 1917, in which he described nerve-racking rides over roads torn by bursting shells. His poste was located in a town of which nothing remained but crumbling walls:

"The only thing standing above six or seven feet high was one-half of the church tower, which made the place look still more ghastly. It looked the way I imagine Pompeii did just after its destruction. Directly behind the town the sinister lines of a hill were silhouetted against the sky under the flashes of the rockets. I felt at the time as if the gates of Dante's Inferno could be found in the side of that hill. That was Hill 304."

The tales which these men, and others like Alden Davison, '15, Kimberly Stuart, '15, and Paul Tison, '14, had to tell helped to dissipate the feeling that the war was remote and unconnected with our own everyday lives.

During the fall term of 1916 the students in the Academy raised over $3000 by subscription for the benefit of soldiers held in German prison camps. By this date public opinion, especially in New England, was beginning to express itself in no uncertain phrases. By January, 1917, the air was charged as if with electricity, and the German note of January 31, announcing the immediate resumption of submarine warfare, really left for America no choice but war. The blood of the nation was pulsating fast and strong, and the people were looking forward, anxiously but resolutely, to a twentieth-century Crusade. The setting for the world drama was almost complete.

The Trustees of Phillips Academy, in their meeting of February 12, voted:

"That the question of providing some form of military training in the school at the present time be left to the Principal with power. "

The boys themselves, encouraged and stimulated by Dr. Stearns's repeated denunciation of German frightfulness, felt the excitement, and, when diplomatic relations with Germany were broken off, they consulted with him about plans for doing their share towards preparation for the inevitable conflict. The Advisory Board, representing the student leaders, presented a petition, asking that, for the remainder of the year, military training be allowed as a substitute for the usual prescribed athletics. The Principal and his Faculty, after some discussion, approved the general tenor of the proposal and passed the following resolution

"That students who desire to manifest their sense of patriotic duty at this critical time by entering upon preliminary military training for the remainder of the school year shall be permitted to do so in the place of required athletics."

On Thursday, March 1, a large and demonstrative mass meeting was held in the Stone Chapel. Dr. Stearns was unavoidably absent, but stirring addresses were made by Dr. Page, Mr. Poynter, Mr. Stackpole, Professor Forbes, and Dr. Fuess. A gathering more in earnest has never met on Andover Hill, and the enthusiasm which prevailed was spontaneous, not, as is sometimes the case, carefully fostered for the occasion. The boys soon showed that their spirit was not to effervesce in shouts and applause, for more than four hundred enlisted during the next few days for military training and signed this pledge:

"I hereby agree on my honor to serve voluntarily as a cadet of the Andover Military Training Corps, and to receive and obey all commands and orders for the benefit of the organization, to the best of my ability."

Under the supervision of Dr. Pierson S. Page, assisted by a number of former Plattsburg and Plum Island men among the students and teachers, the boys were enrolled in companies and met for drill three hours every week in the Gymnasium, the ground being then heavy with snow. The organization was christened the "Phillips Academy Cadet Corps," and a beautiful stand of colors was presented to it by Clyde Martin, '10. The men moved rapidly through the Schools of the Soldiers, the Squad, and the Company, and made some progress with the Manual of Arms,all this in the few weeks before the close of the winter term. When, during the spring vacation, the President pronounced his formal Declaration of War, Phillips Academy had the satisfaction of knowing that she could boast of a military unit not unworthy to represent a great school.

On April 6 the President issued a proclamation declaring that "a state of war exists between the United States and the Imperial German Government." Three days later the Executive Committee of the Trustees voted:

"That the use of the grounds and buildings for such public services as may arise be left to the President of the Board, the Principal, and the Treasurer, with power."

On April 17, at a full gathering of the Board in Andover, the following resolution was adopted unanimously:

"That the Trustees of Phillips Academy of Andover, Massachusetts, having in charge one of the oldest and largest of American endowed schools, with an attendance of over 550 boys, strongly urge the prompt adoption by Congress of some measure providing for universal military training."

Copies of this resolution were sent to the President of the United States, the Secretary of War, the two Massachusetts Senators, and Congressman John Jacob Rogers of the Essex district. Meanwhile the Principal, at the opening of the spring term, with the full concurrence of the student body, definitely abandoned the schedule of athletic contests, and determined that, until further developments made our course clear, one school at least should devote itself mainly to meeting the emergency. This decision was not altogether approved by some members of the teaching staff, and the usual charges of "jingoism" and "hysteria" were sometimes made; but future events were such that conversions followed rather rapidly and by June no protests could be heard. Dr. Stearns himself was fortunately no believer in the insidious doctrine of "school as usual," which, at that particular moment, was not without its advocates; he recognized that schools as well as other institutions in a community must get down to a war basis.' The boys were warned to keep up in their studies and told that it was their patriotic duty to continue with their education; but the school routine was also readjusted to meet existing conditions, and no boy was allowed to forget the responsibility which every citizen, and every prospective citizen, owes his country in time of danger.

During the spring some changes, tending towards increased efficiency, were made in the Phillips Battalion. Two experienced army officers, Lieutenant Harry Frothingham and Captain John Knowles, both of Boston, generously gave their services as instructors. The cadets, at their own expense, secured the regulation uniforms of cotton khaki. Not enough rifles of standard pattern being available, a large number of wooden, or "Quaker," guns were made. Before many weeks had passed the battalion was executing with precision some rather complicated maneuvers on the parade ground. On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons simple military field problems were discussed and solved, and sham battles were carried out over the surrounding country. After a sufficient degree of proficiency had been attained, the faculty officers withdrew and left the conduct of the four companies entirely in student hands. On Memorial Day, at the invitation of the Andover Post of the Grand Army of the Republic, the battalion paraded through the streets as an escort to the Civil War veterans, and made a most agreeable impression.

The Commencement exercises in June had an undercurrent of seriousness which was decidedly ominous. Men and boys alike were peering into the veiled future, sometimes half-fearfully, but all with a grim consciousness of the fact that one more short year might bring with it momentous changes. Andover Hill had caught the war spirit. The boys, straight and khaki-clad, the flags flung out from windows along the Main Street, the flare of bugles and the roll of drums, were outward and obvious signs of transformation. A beautiful flagstaff, a gift, in part, of the student body, was dedicated on the old training field in front of the Treasurer's house, where, more than a century and a quarter before, General George Washington had reviewed the Andover militia. The speeches at Commencement rang with the call to arms. Dr. Lyman Abbott, in his Baccalaureate Sermon, took as his text,---"I come not to send peace, but a sword." At the annual dinner, Judge William H. Wadhams dwelt on the meaning of our fight for democracy; Dr. Alfred E. Stearns laid emphasis on the Academy's splendid war record; and Mr. Frederick C. Walcott spoke eloquently in resentment of German outrages which he personally had seen in Belgium and Poland. It was indeed a moment of solemn suspense, for our soldiers were not yet at the front, and no one could say with certainty how we, as a nation, would play our part.

Already, however, familiar faces had gone from the classrooms. As early as February, 1917, Dr. Stearns had taken a few of the more mature boys into his confidence, and asked if any of them would care to join an Andover Ambulance Unit, which should carry the name of the Academy to the fields of France. When the news of the project became more widely known, applications for membership came so rapidly that the Principal had to make a careful selection of the most promising men. The consent of parents had to be obtained, and many complicated details had to be arranged. Dr. Stearns himself wrote letters to a number of generous Phillips alumni asking for their financial support to the enterprise; for some of the boys chosen for the unit had been working their way through school and could not meet their own expenses. Eventually something over $3500 was secured. The following is a list of the contributors:

Russell A. Alger, '93 William H. Crocker, '79
Frederick W. Allen , '96 G. Watson French,'77
Francis R. Appleton, '71 John A. Garver, '71
George B. Case, '90 John G. Greenway, '92
Irving H. Chase, '76 Carl W. Hamilton, '09
Frederick G. Crane, '84 Dan R. Hanna, '14
H. Stuart Hotchkiss, '97 Frank H. Simmons, '94
Oliver G. Jennings, '83 Lloyd W. Smith, '92
Henry B. Joy, '83 Mr. William H. Taylor
Richard B. Joy, '90 Mrs. William H. Taylor
Victor F. Lawson, '72 Henry S. Van Duzer, '71
Philip H. McMillan,'91 Frederick C. Walcott, '87
Joseph F. Otis, '88 Daniel B. Wentz, '92
Oliver Perrin, '00 Frederick E. Weyerhauser, '92
Allan H. Richardson, '97 Harris Whittemore, '84
Charles H. Schweppe, '98 Robert H. York, '87

In addition, Mr. Alfred I. Dupont provided a completely equipped ambulance, at a cost of $1600, and another was presented to the unit by the New York Alumni Association.

The unit, as finally constituted, was made up of twenty-two, of whom two, Mr. Frederick J. Daly and Mr. Alexander B. Bruce, were members of the Faculty. Not one of the others had reached voting age. The full story of this Andover Ambulance Unit is told elsewhere in this volume by Lieutenant Daly, who was given full charge. Had it been possible to secure passage, the unit might well have been overseas before our actual Declaration of War. As it was it sailed on April 28, 1917, exactly one hundred and thirty-nine years, to a day, from the time when the Trustees of Phillips Academy held their first regular meeting, on April 28, 1778. That original group of Trustees would not have been ashamed of the record which the boys of the school that they were engaged in establishing were to make long after they were resting in their graves. Four members of the unit, "Alec" Bruce, "Jack" Wright, Schuyler Lee, and "Bill" Taylor, gave their lives in the aviation service; another, Captain Harold Buckley, returned as one of Andover's two "aces" and wearing on his breast the Distinguished Service Cross; and several others won especial honors and decorations. As a whole, the Ambulance Unit wrote one of the most glorious pages in the Phillips Academy annals. Andover may well be gratified that the foresight and patriotism of her Principal made her the first of the great American schools to send a unit of this kind across the Atlantic, and that the men who represented her proved worthy of her ancient traditions.

In general, in spite of some sincere and some equally covert criticism, the Academy has had no reason to regret the policy which it pursued during the spring of 1917. The abandonment of outside athletic contests aroused some complaint; but the motive which prompted this action was entirely unselfish, actuated simply by a feeling that, in time of war, sport, important though it is as a factor in normal school life, should yield to more serious business. The Principal had confidence that intelligent people would recognize that, under such circumstances, it is more helpful to carry a rifle than a baseball bat and nobler to read army manuals than the sporting page.

During the summer of 1917 Andover graduates entered service by the hundreds. Several of the teachers, including Lieutenant Daly, Lieutenant Bruce, Lieutenant Markham W. Stackpole (who went overseas in the autumn as Chaplain of the 102d Field Artillery), and Lieutenant Harold S. Wilkins (who had been commissioned in the Ordnance Corps), were already in uniform, and others were to follow during the year. The school, at its opening in September, had not lost perceptibly in numbers, for, with the lower limit of the draft age fixed at twenty-one, most parents felt that their sons, for some months at any rate; would be better off in the classroom. The Trustees, on June 14, had passed the following vote:

"That military training be included in the school curriculum for the members of the two upper classes, and for all other boys of sixteen years and over whose parents do not disapprove."

They had also secured the services of Major Robert N. Davy of the Canadian Army, as officer in charge of the military work of the school. When drills started on October 29, it was found that 510 of the 570 boys were enrolled. The schedule provided for three hours of compulsory military instruction a week. Now that the government program had been outlined, a few contests with other institutions in athletics were arranged, although very little time could be given to coaching and practice.

The progress of military training through the year was most steady and satisfactory. There was little friction and almost no halting of the wheels in other departments; -the readjustment to war conditions was made with surprisingly few disturbances of school customs and traditions. Major Davy proved to be particularly skilful in lending variety and attractiveness to tasks which can easily degenerate into drudgery. When sufficient development had been attained in the fundamentals, he formed special training schools in bayonet fighting, bombing, signaling, trench warfare, and ambulance work. An officers' class for advanced study was instituted, and met two evenings of the week. Unusually interesting was the battalion band of twenty-two pieces, which, after diligent practice, was able, before the year closed, to carry out a program of some difficulty with commendable success.

The military organization had, of course, become conspicuous among school activities. The cadet uniform of khaki, with the campaign hat and spiral puttees, was seen everywhere, and even the Glee and Mandolin Clubs were, so to speak, militarized. The pictures in the Pot-Pourri, or Class Book, showed the students always in army garb, no matter what group they represented. A public exhibition given by the battalion in the Gymnasium on February 22, the morning after the Winter Promenade, attracted a large crowd, and was actually astounding as a demonstration of what can be accomplished in drill, within a short period, by boys rather above the average in intelligence. This exhibition was repeated on March 15, in the evening, before a number of officers from Camp Devens and the Southeastern Department.

Meanwhile the original battalion had been rearranged to form a regiment of two battalions, each consisting of three companies, with cadet officers assuming almost the entire responsibility for administration. As spring came on, a complete and elaborate system of trenches and dugouts was constructed to the east of Brothers' Field. At the close of the Class Day program in June, the regiment was mustered for the last time on the training-field, and marched in parade before Major Davy on the Main Campus. In the evening the boys gave a spectacular demonstration of actual warfare. A party of raiders went "over the top" into No Man's Land, while rockets and starshells illuminated the scene of battle. It was a brilliant close to a remarkably successful year.

Commencement in 1918, however, was not without its sadder features. The Honor Roll of those dead in service had already nineteen names upon it. Twelve members of the Senior Class were in France; ten others were at training camps in this country; two had given their lives in service. Reference to these facts was made by every speaker. At the Alumni Dinner an eloquent address was made by Colonel (now Brigadier- General) Marlborough Churchill, who said in conclusion:

"There is one message that I can bring you from those over there. They know that they are just the advance guard of you men who are coming later; and they know that, if they are wiped out, it doesn't make any difference, because you are coming."

Still another step---a natural and logical one---was to be taken in meeting the exigencies of the hour. On January 15, 1918, the Trustees had passed a resolution:

"That a special joint committee from Trustees and Faculty be asked to consider the advisability of conducting a summer session of the school, with suitable military training."

The result of this joint conference was the establishment of a summer military camp, with Major Davy as Commandant. He had exceptionally able assistants in Lieutenant R. E. Wyatt of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces, Dr. Carl Guthe of the Faculty, and Dr. Pierson S. Page, who served as Medical Officer. Over two hundred boys, three-fourths of them from other schools, enrolled for the course of six weeks, from July 3 to August 14. As matters developed, the camp was ideally situated for military purposes. The Main Campus was a perfect drill and assembly ground. The dormitories, Bartlet, Phillips, and Day, were commodious and comfortable barracks. Pearson Hall was a study and lecture building. The swimming pool, the Gymnasium, the Dining Hall, and the Infirmary all contributed to the comfort and the efficiency of the camp.

The boys who attended were trained, not for child's play, but for actual warfare. With pup-tents spread under the old elms, the campus resembled a small Plattsburg; and the sentinels posted at the gates gave a realistic military touch. There was a glamor also, a bit of romance, when over the playing-fields on summer nights there came the melancholy notes of the bugle sounding "Retreat," or the beat of drums that heralded a return from a long bike. When the camp broke up and the Hill sank back into its customary summer slumber, there were those who rather missed the bustle and excitement. But, before another July, the Great War was a matter of history, and the pressing need for military preparation had gone by.

The school which opened in the fall of 1918 was sober and unelate in spirit. During the summer the Roll of Honor, inscribed in beautifully illuminated letters on parchment by Mr. Charles A. Parmelee of the Faculty, had been lengthened name after name until it recorded the deaths of many boys who, within the year, had been joining in games upon the diamond or the track. The plans of the War Department for registering all those over eighteen years of age were naturally of consequence to Phillips Academy, and the Trustees would have been glad to turn the school definitely into a Students' Army Training Camp. No decision regarding secondary schools could be reached, however, and the Academy opened its one hundred and forty-first year much as usual, although without the considerable number of older boys who have usually meant so much in preserving the student morale. Two of the Trustees, Colonel Henry L. Stimson and Colonel Frederick T. Murphy, were in service at the front; several instructors, including Major Claude M. Fuess, Sergeant Sharon O. Brown, Mr. Samuel N. Baker, Mr. Frank L. Quinby (who went overseas as athletic director in the French Army), and Mr. Archibald Freeman (who was commissioned as Captain in the American Red Cross and assigned to the Balkan service) were away on leave of absence in the army or other war activities. The Trustees pursued a most liberal policy in making it possible for teachers to enter service without financial loss and with the certainty that their positions would be open for them on their return. The places of these men were, however, soon temporarily filled, and the school settled down to the familiar routine, with military training as a fait accompli in student life. Major Davy had returned to the Canadian service, and Lieutenant Wyatt had taken his place as Commandant of the regiment. The first energizing and exhilarating enthusiasm had lessened somewhat, as it always does; the element of novelty was gone, and what had been at first like diversion had become hard work; but everybody set himself in grim earnestness to toil patiently and uncomplainingly for victory. The school, like the nation, was preparing, without any illusions, for a long and taxing struggle. There was, of course, a feeling of unrest among the older boys, who wanted to take their places in the battle line, and not a few left to enlist during the autumn. Three football captains withdrew, one after the other, to enter service. But no other attitude could possibly be expected from young men of nerve and sinew.

And then, quite unexpectedly, came the news of the armistice. First there was spread abroad the false alarm, which the school authorities were none too ready to accept; and the event justified their skepticism. A few days later, in the early morning of November 11, the bells rang out their joyful peal, till all the church-towers were rocking. The boys, clad in pajamas, rushed out into the gray dawn, and, securing torches, formed in parade-line, as in the celebrations of victories over rival schools. Down the Main Street they marched to the square, where all the community, young and old, had gathered to exult over the good tidings; and throughout that holiday the bells chimed and people met each other with happy faces. The Great War was over,---over just as America was ready for a supreme effort, an effort such as this world has never seen.

Little has been said of some of the less romantic aspects of war work, all of which, however, contributed materially to the ultimate victory. Early in the spring of 1915, in answer to an appeal from Dr. Howard W. Beal, '94 (who later, as a Major in the Medical Corps, died of wounds in France), the students collected a large supply of neckties and sent them to disabled British soldiers in the American Women's War Hospital at Paignton, England. Dr. Beal, who was then Chief Surgeon at that hospital, wrote:

"The seven hundred ties is by far the best and largest contribution of the sort we have had, and it gave me great pleasure to think that the boys in old Phillips had shown such willing spirit to contribute to the pleasure of the British soldiers who go through our hospital."

To the Second Liberty Loan the school subscribed over $79,000. To the Red Triangle Drive in 1918 it gave over $5000. In the United War Work Drive of 1918, of which Dr. Stearns was one of the New England Directors, the boys pledged nearly $13,000.

Everywhere on Andover Hill were war gardens, started sometimes by men to whom the hoe and the spade had been mechanical mysteries, but who, by dint of patience and research in seed catalogues, man aged to produce creditable crops of vegetables. When ever there was a call for patriotic civilian service, whether on the Legal Advisory Board or with the "Four Minute" men or on any of the various committees formed for collecting funds for war relief, members of the Trustees and the Faculty responded. There was hardly a movement of this kind in the town with which such men as Mr. Ripley, Dr. Stearns, and Professor Forbes were not associated.

Some striking examples of the fighting spirit among Andover men ought to have special mention. Mr. Edward H. Landon, '71, was living in France when his wife and daughters, worshiping in a Paris church, were killed on Good Friday, 1918, by a long-distance German gun. He at once returned to America, and, although he was considerably over sixty years of age, made every effort to secure from the War Department some position where he could at least fire one shot at the brutal people who had slain his loved ones. He was disappointed in his hopes, but he lived to see the outrage avenged. Another courageous soul is "Eddie" Hinkle, '96, who, when over forty years old, enlisted in the French Foreign Legion and learned to fly in a single-seated plane, without the assistance of a controlling pilot. He was probably the oldest active aviator in the American service. Still another was Kenneth Rand, '10, one of the most promising of our younger poets, who, after being rejected by every American and Canadian combat branch, finally entered the Quartermaster Corps, but died of influenza before he could reach an Officers' Training Camp,---died, leaving behind him in his private's uniform his last poem, Limited Service Only:

I am not one of those the gods' decision
Has chosen for that highest gift of all
The sacrifice, the splendor, and the vision
To fight and nobly fall:

And yet I know---what though it be but dreaming!
Should the day hang on one last desperate hope, I---
I---could lead one reckless column streaming
Down some shell-tortured slope.

To face the shadow-hell of Death's own valley
With eyes unclouded and unlowered head
Know, for an instant, one ecstatic rally
And then be cleanly dead."

It is men such as these, from three different generations of Andover graduates, who represent American courage and determination at its best.

Of the over two thousand Phillips alumni in the army, navy, or marines, a large proportion were from the classes of recent years. So young were many of them that they were barely out of the classroom in school and college. One who had seen many of them go from their desks straight into the trenches thought often of the words of Joyce Kilmer:-

"They have taken their youth and mirth away from the study and playing-ground
To a new school in an alien land beneath an alien sky;
Out in the smoke and roar of the fight their lessons and games are found,
And they who were learning how to live are learning how to die."

It was these boys who were among the first to go,-partly, of course, in the quest of adventure, but largely in a desire to meet the call of duty. No conscription law was needed to bring them into battle. They responded eagerly and unhesitatingly, even enlisting as privates in the ranks if only they could get overseas. A very large percentage of them, however, earned commissions, and, as officers, showed qualities of decision and leadership that made them a credit to the school which they represented.

Orators at many alumni gatherings have spoken of the gallantry of Lieutenant Samuel Hopkins Thompson, the young Civil War hero, who led his men to the charge at Antietam and died crying, "Form on me, boys, form on me." This war also has developed its heroes: spectacular knights of the air, like "Bill" Taylor and Schuyler Lee and Roswell Fuller, stern leaders in the less dramatic work of the Infantry, like Harold Eadie, "Bob" Lovett, "Herm" Wilson, and "Charlie" Gould. The deeds of these men, and of countless others of the same audacity and courage, will, we hope, be ever present memories to all graduates of Andover.

With these boys went, a little more slowly perhaps, the men of an older generation, men who had acquired family ties and business responsibilities. It was a struggle for them to leave their offices and homes, but ultimately a large number made what Dante calls "il gran refuso" and went out to do their part in saving civilization. Untaught in war, they found themselves in a changed environment, but they did not fail to quit themselves like men. Often their experience in industry placed them at "desk jobs," without much romance or activity; but they had their share,---a large share,---in the consummation of victory.

So many letters have come from Andover men in service that it is not possible to make any adequate selection from them. They all lay emphasis, on the necessity of sacrifice, the need of patience and fortitude, and the seriousness of the conflict. Schuyler Lee, not nineteen years old, writes his father:

"Every man who came over in the Andover Unit is here to see the war through."

Paul Doolin, a Freshman at Harvard, describes a little French church and its congregation:

"Here, in the simple peasant hearts of these martyrs, is the real stronghold of Christianity. They have suffered three years of horror such as we shall never know; their shoulders are bent with heart-breaking labor, and their hair is shot with gray, but tomorrow or next week they will go back and face torture,---all because they believe."

Colonel Frederick T. Murphy says, after having been only a few weeks at the front:

"The more I see of the game and the more I get into it, the more I am convinced that we as a people have taken the only justifiable course. To have dodged our responsibility would have resulted in losing our self-respect; and now that we are in it we have got to put in everything and see that the points of the dispute are settled, not to Germany's satisfaction, but on the basis of insuring peace in the future and preserving the rights of civilization."

Corporal Edward E. Stephenson, after learning how to fly in a training camp, wrote back:

"It is the blue blood in the veins of the true American youths that has made the American Army what it is to-day, the greatest and nerviest fighting force in the world; not because they choose this for a profession, but because they know their duty is to fight until there is no fight left, for humanity, home, womanhood, and democracy."

One officer Lieutenant William B. Wheeler, who was in Marseilles on November 11, tells of an experience which reads like a passage from a romance:

"It is twelve o'clock, and the armistice has been declared for one hour. . . . A few moments ago I was standing in the large square where our band was playing the French national hymn. Thousands were singing, and I was joining in with the rest, never realizing what I was singing, until directly behind me I heard another voice singing the same words. I looked around and saw another officer standing there; and we were both singing with all our strength, 'Old Andover is champion!' Strange, wasn't it? We shook hands, and then the crowds moved and parted us."

So the familiar Andover song joined men three thousand miles away from their homes, men linked together, not only because they had both once dwelt on the Hill, but also because they were united in their devotion to their country and its ideals.

Of those Andover men who died in the nation's service, nothing that we can say can be adequate. Their records on the following pages speak with their own simple eloquence. When Harvard College, on July 21, 1865, celebrated her memorial exercises for those of her sons who had perished in the Civil War, her Roll of Honor numbered ninety-two names. Phillips Academy, after one year and seven months of warfare, mourns seventy-seven. It is futile to hope that we can find another Lowell to-day who can compose a Commemoration Ode worthy of these heroes. We can, and do, pay them honor in our hearts. We shall hold memorial exercises to show our glory in their achievements and our sorrow at their untimely deaths. We shall have, before many years have gone by, a memorial building on Andover Hill which will be in every respect worthy of those to whom it will be dedicated. But we owe them the further obligation, not merely to cherish their deeds, but also to perpetuate the lofty principles for which they fought and died. Only by so doing can we remit our debt to those whom Phillips Academy counts

Her wisest scholars, those who understood
The deeper teaching of her mystic tome,
And offered their fresh lives to make it good."


"Men new to war and its dreadest deeds,
But noble and staunch and true."

"The first American flag to float alone over American troops in France is high above us on the trunk of a long pine, and as the worn out soldiers of France march by they cheer us as saviors. The glory that we are bestowed with is so much that it becomes comical, but nevertheless it does us good to feel ourselves some of the first American troops." (Letter from Jack Wright, May, 1917.)


FREDERICK JOSEPH DALY, '06 (Faculty Guardian)
*ALEXANDER BERN BRUCE, '11 (Faculty Guardian)

* Killed in service




THE Phillips Academy Ambulance Unit of twenty-two men was organized through the personal efforts of Principal Alfred E. Stearns, and a generous response to those efforts on the part of our alumni. It enjoys the distinction of being the only preparatory school unit sent out for volunteer work in the Great War. Furthermore it was organized before our country declared war on Germany. Only the lack of transportation prevented an earlier start.

Through the kindness of our alumni in New York City a farewell reception was held at the Harvard Club. The chief speaker was Principal Stearns, and it was fitting that he should have been so, since no man had our welfare more at heart, no man had done more to get the unit started, no man had the cause of our leaving and the cause of the Allies more on his mind than the Principal. What he said to us will always be remembered. The encouragement and inspiration given in that talk went far towards carrying the unit successfully on its mission,---a mission that brought results and contributed not a little for the end which has since come about.

On April 28, 1917, the unit embarked aboard the French liner, "La Touraine." The guns mounted fore and aft gave us the first thrill of the war. Fortunately or unfortunately, we had no occasion to use them. In addition to the mounted pieces we found many poilus returning for another tour in the trenches. Aviators, and other volunteers for ambulance work in the French armies, together with our unit, comprised the ship passenger list.

Soon after dropping the pilot, the vessel ran into a severe snowstorm which lasted about four days, with the result that there was some disturbance in the Interior Department, and the subsequent proceedings took place in accordance with the custom in such cases. It was possible to find room in any part of the vessel except the railing. There was one consolation at that period; we had no fear of submarines. The only fear seemed to be that a submarine would not appear and settle the matter.

After everybody recovered, the Andover Unit began to show what real stuff it possessed, and a challenge was issued for a contest of any kind whatsoever, no exceptions being made. Two "huskies" finally offered battle in the challenge for a wrestling match, and Frank Talmage, '18, and Schuyler Lee, '18, were the representatives to uphold the honor of the school,---which they did most completely. There was no mistake about their success, although they were beaten if the size of their opponents amounted to anything. On high seas, therefore, Phillips Academy was holding its own; and no more acceptances came from our fellow passengers.

The unit debarked at Bordeaux, and were there about long enough to see the varied uniforms of the French troops and to learn that we had come at a time when there was a great need for help. This was further impressed upon us shortly after the unit reached the headquarters of the American Field Service.

Although we had come as an Ambulance Unit, we changed to the Motor Truck branch of the French Army, since we found that we could render service in that branch more effectively than in ambulance work. We were told of the most urgent appeal that had come from the French High Command, asking for volunteers to man the trucks. So, after much serious thought in the matter, all but four changed to truck work,---a work which had few if any thrills, but which proved to be as important as any branch of service.

The unit also enjoyed the distinction of being among the first Americans to march through Paris under arms, as each man was supplied with French rifle, helmet, and gas-mask. At the Gare de I'Est the unit was an object of admiration and wonder combined: admiration, because they knew we were Americans, and wonder, because they could not tell just what army we were fighting with, since our uniform resembled that of the British and our other equipment was manifestly French.

The train finally got under way for Dommiers, a small village about fifteen miles southwest of Soissons. Here we received instruction on the motor convoy system in the French Army and some drill under the French Lieutenant in charge of the camp,---a man who had been wounded twice during the first battle of the Marne in 1914. We had one day's work on the targets; fortunately only one, for it is doubtful if the rifles issued would have lasted another dozen rounds. They were remnants of the Franco-Prussian War, and of other wars of an earlier date. The result of firing a shot was just about as bad behind the stock as in front of the muzzle. The only way you could tell was by the smoke screen at the muzzle end, which concealed the view in front for some time. We were not surprised when we heard of the success the smoke screen had at sea. These were the guns, however, or guns like these, which helped to stop the German hordes at the beginning of the war. We were learning each day of the trials and difficulties which the gallant French soldiers endured from the day of mobilization. They took what was given them and met successfully the organized, well-equipped, and well-trained band of Huns.

The training period of the unit came to an end on June 1, 1917, and it was then sent as a section in the Mallet Reserve, named from the French Captain in command. A reserve in this sense is quite different from the meaning of that word as applied, for example, to the infantry and artillery. In the French Automobile Service it was used as a reserve to be called upon for transporting material of any kind to any point for any of the armies,---a very satisfactory and efficient way of utilizing motor equipment. It was hard on the men, but that is true of any branch in war time.

The camp at this period was located about midway between Soissons and Rheims,---a region which later became the scene of fierce attacks and counter-attacks. From this camp the various units would receive orders from the French headquarters to transport ammunition and engineer materiel to any point between the above-mentioned places, in preparation for the big attack on the Chemin des Dames. For six months, therefore, the unit hauled night and day, and especially at night when working north of the Aisne line, that region being within the range of the enemy's fire. Driving five-ton trucks loaded to capacity over roads congested by troop, artillery, and other transport movements, with a time set for leaving the depots and a time set for arrival at some point designated from headquarters made the task far from an easy one. Then, in addition, when one had to breathe all day and all night clouds of dust such as those turned up by the French roads, it can be taken for granted that a job of this nature took something more than the mere ability to drive. It was stated at one time that the drivers could tell the approximate distance of the vehicle in front by the taste of the dust, and there must have been truth in that statement, for it was not possible to see anything in certain spots at night. However there was a slight consolation to be had from the fact that we were riding on vehicles as large as, if not larger than, anything to be met with on the roads.

It has been stated by men in authority that the Mallet Reserve, of which the Phillips Academy Unit was a part, hauled one-half the material used during the attack on the Chemin des Dames in October, 1917, the objective being Fort Malmaison and the heights overlooking the valley of the Ailette River. The objective was reached after the greatest artillery preparation of the war, and the Academy boys played no insignificant part in making the attack a success.

To the Principal and to those who responded to his appeal all praise is due. Nothing could have been appreciated more by our French comrades, and at a time when few Americans were ready to help. Our greeting everywhere was warm and cordial, and the thanks given to us for our volunteer work by those in command of the French armies was heartfelt and sincere. This mingling of French and Americans brought about a lasting friendship and understanding between the two peoples, and consequently the decision to turn aside all previous plans formed before leaving America was well worth while and richly rewarded.

The next question that had to be solved was the part the members were to play in the American Army, when, in October, 1917, the opportunity came for all to make the decision. Everyone who was able joined the aviation branch, only two remaining in the transport service. Whatever branch was decided upon, the men of Andover continued to render at all times the best they had in them. Some, indeed, have given all they had in rendering this service. They have left us, but will not be forgotten.



 FREDERICK JOSEPH DALY, '07, Coach of the Andover football team and Assistant to the Principal, was exactly the man to lead the Andover Unit, and Dr. Stearns, when he was arranging for his project of sending a group of boys overseas, was particularly delighted when he learned that Mr. Daly was not only willing but eager to go with them. Upon him rested the responsibility of directing the unit after it left New York, and he had to help the members to make many important decisions. His qualities of leadership and his excellent judgment in moments when promptness of action was required were large factors in making the unit a credit to the school which it represented.

When the unit was breaking up, Mr. Daly enlisted in the American Army as a private on October 1; 1917, and was shortly after, on November 24, commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the Quartermaster Corps, assigned for duty with the work of motor transportation. When the Motor Transport Corps was organized in the summer of 1918, Lieutenant Daly was one of the earliest officers to be transferred to it; and, on October 1, 1918, be received a well-deserved promotion to be First Lieutenant, M. T. C. He returned to America in January, 1919, and was honorably discharged on February 3.

ALEXANDER BERN BRUCE, '11, who, as we have seen, fell to death on August 17, 1918, had been an Instructor at Phillips Academy and acted as assistant to Lieutenant Frederick Joseph Daly, who was in charge of the Andover Unit. Bruce, although older than the boys in the party, had a youthful spirit and was very popular with them. Although he was naturally reticent and quiet, he told in his letters of the pleasure which he found in associating with these younger companions; and he was fully their equal in audacity and courage. He wrote frequently about his adventures with them and their eagerness to see actual combat. He himself was a brilliant aviator, and he died, as he would have wished to give his life, in action.

ELBRIDGE ADAMS, '17, of Williamstown, Massachusetts, did not choose camion service but remained in ambulance work, leaving Paris with Section 26 on May 28, 1917. The section proceeded to Oncement, where it formed part of the 19th Division, 10th Corps, 2d French Army. Oncement is about three miles south of Verdun on the Meuse River, and was then some three miles from the French lines. For some weeks the work was light, but, during the great French attack of September, 1917, many wounded men were carried to the base hospitals and the section was frequently bombed.

In October the section was cited from Corps headquarters and given a Croix de Guerre, with a gold star. On October 23 Adams left the front, arriving in New York on November 12, 1917.

DAVID HAY ATWATER, '17, went overseas in April, 1917, with the Andover Ambulance Unit, and, for a time, took part with the others in the camion service. Later, however, he secured his transfer into ambulance driving, at which he was occupied until November, when he left for home and entered college, much against his own wishes. Some of his experiences were most interesting. On September 7, 1917, he wrote:

"On the 2d eight shells landed within thirty yards of me, one being less than twenty yards away. I was hit in the thigh with a stone, but only bruised. On the night of the 3d I ran into some gas which the sergeant at the post said was the worst he had ever been in. Hundreds of us passed out, and among them myself and another boy in the Section. It smells like new-mown hay. On the 4th and 5th I had some close calls too. On the 5th they bombarded the post very heavily, and our dugout was nearly smashed. Since then nothing has arrived nearer than 200 yards."

  CHESTER ARTHUR BATES, '19, after serving his period of enlistment in camion driving, enlisted in the United States Naval Reserve Corps, as a flying cadet. After training in Italy, he was commissioned as Ensign in the Naval Aviation branch of the service. He was honorably discharged, March, 1919, shortly after his return to America.

PLAYFORD BOYLE, '19, of Uniontown, Pennsylvania, went to France with the Andover Ambulance Unit and worked for nearly six months in the camion service. With Dole and Crane, also of the unit, he applied for aviation almost as soon as he arrived overseas; but it was not until October 29, 1917, that he was allowed to leave the French Army and enlist as a private in the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps. He was held for training for some months at St. Maixent, and later at Châteauroux and Issoudun, receiving his commission as Second Lieutenant, Aviation Service, on May 18, 1918. Airplanes being at that time far from plentiful, he saw no active combat work. He returned to America early in 1919, and was honorably discharged on February 10. He reentered Phillips Academy for the spring term, graduating in June, 1919.

HAROLD ROBERT BUCKLEY, '17, whose glorious record as an aviator will long be memorable in the annals of the school, was the only one of the Andover Unit to win the Distinguished Service Cross. In combat, he was extraordinarily cool and skilful, and he became an ace without accident or mishap. His rank of Captain was also the highest attained by any of the members of the unit. The details of his career are related on another page of this volume.
  PAUL HOWARD CRANE, '17, of Montclair, New Jersey, after completing his term of enlistment with the Andover Unit, enlisted, with Boyle and Dole, in the American Army as a private in the Aviation Service of the Signal Corps. After some instruction at St. Maixent, he was ordered to Voves and from there to Issoudun, where, on May 18, 1918, he was commissioned as Second Lieutenant, Air Service. He was honorably discharged in February, 1919, and returned to Yale University to finish his course.

ROBERT ALDEN DOLE, '18, of Andover, went overseas with the Andover Ambulance Unit and for six months drove in the camion service, being discharged on October 28. He made every effort to enlist in aviation, but was rejected on account of his youth; and, after driving a United States Staff car in Paris for some weeks, he enlisted in the Air Service, Supply Department, later transferring to the Radio Department as an inspector. After the armistice he was taken into the Liquidation Department and made a member of the Purchasing Board for the Army of Occupation.

PAUL RICE DOOLIN, '16, joined the unit after Commencement and sailed from New York, June 25, 1917, arriving in Bordeaux on July 4. After two weeks of training, he was assigned to duty driving a camion, and served for three months, taking part in the battles of Chemin des Dames and the Aisne. He then enlisted as a private in the United States Army, at the same time applying for aviation. In March, 1918, he began training as a cadet aviator, at Chaumont, and in August be received his commission as Second Lieutenant. He had just completed his course of instruction as a chasse pilot at Issoudun when the armistice was signed. He was later detailed for work on a history of American Aviation in France.

GEORGE EATON DRESSER, '17, did not accompany the original members of the Andover Unit abroad in April, but remained to graduate from Phillips Academy in June and then sailed at once overseas, joining his friends at the front in the camion service. He later enlisted in the Tank Corps, and, on September 6, 1918, went into action. On the early morning of September 12 he went forward with his company, but his tank stuck in a ditch; thereupon he and several other "dismounted" tank drivers went forward and captured a German machine gun nest, at the same time taking many prisoners. On September 25 the company moved to Vauquois Woods. On the following morning, while his tank with seven others was advancing, a shell hit the front of his machine. Dresser was killed instantly, and his comrade in the tank was seriously wounded and permanently blinded. Dresser was a resolute, manly fellow, who inspired confidence and had great powers of leadership. One of his companions writes that he was one of the "best liked and most respected men in the company."
   THOMAS HASKINS JOYCE, '17, of Pasadena, California, sailed with the Andover Ambulance Unit and spent five months in France, working in Section 12. In October, 1917, he returned to America and at once enlisted in the Air Service, being called to active duty in February, 1918, at the School of Military Aeronautics at Berkeley, California. After graduating, he spent a month at Camp Dick, Dallas, Texas, and was then assigned to Carruthers Field at Fort Worth as Flying Instructor. On July 2, when his commission was only two weeks away, he crashed, escaping with a right arm badly crushed at the wrist. He was in the hospital or on sick leave until January 9, 1919, when he returned to Fort Worth, where he received his honorable discharge.

ROBERT TREAT KNOWLES, '18, of Newton Center, Massachusetts, went overseas with the Andover Ambulance Unit and served six months in France as a member of S. S. U. 13, which was attached to the 4th French Army, operating in the Champagne sector and the Argonne. In October, 1917, his section was attached to the 2d French Army, near Verdun. While working in this vicinity, Knowles was in the hospital ten days, suffering from shell shock. He returned home in December, 1917, where, at Harvard, he completed the Reserve Officers' Training Camp course as Regimental Supply Sergeant. In August, 1918, he enlisted in the Field Artillery Central Officers' Training School at Camp Taylor and was graduated and commissioned 'a Second Lieutenant in December, 1918. Shortly after, he received his honorable discharge.

GEORGE LAWRENCE, '19, of Binghamton, New York, of the Andover Ambulance Unit, chose camion work, and from May 20 until October 28, 1917, worked near the front between Soissons and Rheims. On December 17, 1917, he arrived home, having been rejected in the American and British Aviation Service on account of his youth. When he became eighteen, he enlisted on April 5, 1918, in the Royal Air Force at Toronto, Canada. He became Lance-Corporal and Corporal, and was finally commissioned as Flight Cadet on November 27, 1918. He was honorably discharged on the same day. While in training, he crashed to earth from a height of five hundred feet, but escaped with minor injuries.

SCHUYLER LEE, '18, whose death in action on April 12, 1917, robbed the Andover Unit of the second of its members,---Jack Wright having been first,---was the first of the number actually to leave for aviation, and, unlike the others, he enlisted in the French Army, in the LaFayette Escadrille. While Jack Wright and "Bill" Taylor were training at Tours and Issoudun, Lee was undergoing instruction at Avord; and he was probably the earliest of the unit to go into the air, as he was also the first-to take part in real combat. The story of his army career is told elsewhere in this volume. Like Wright and Taylor, he was a gallant figure, who had about him the glamor of romance. It was of young men like these that Dr. Stearns was thinking when he wrote to Schuyler's father:

"As I have noted the ever-growing list of old Andover boys who have so willingly given their lives for humanity and the establishment of God's eternal principles of righteousness and justice, it has seemed to me as if it could not be mere accident that has decreed that the best should be first taken, and on the first list of our thirty boys,---heroes all,---are the names of many of the strongest, the most promising, and the cleanest boys it has been my privilege as a schoolmaster to know."

CHARLES GRANT LITTLEFIELD, '19, as a member of the Andover Ambulance Unit, served in the French camion service from May until October, 1917. He was then honorably discharged from the French Army, but was rejected by the American Army on account of physical disability. He returned to his father's home in Toronto, and, on April 1, 1918, enlisted, with George Lawrence, another Andover boy, in the Canadian Flying Corps, which later became the British Royal Air Force. At the time of the signing of the armistice he was still a cadet aviator, and, together with all other members of the Royal Air Force in Canada, was honorably discharged from service.
  JOHN MCKNIGHT SAWHILL, '20, after arriving in France, went with most of the other members of the unit into camion service, but, in July, 1917, enlisted as a private in the United States Army, Aviation Corps. After training at Tours, he received, in November, his brevet as a Military Pilot Aviator. He was sent for special training in combat work to the American Flying School at Issoudun, and was there, in December, commissioned as a First Lieutenant. On January 4 he fell about six hundred feet to the ground, being fortunate to escape with a broken upper left arm. He was sent to the hospital, over which his friends, "Bill" Taylor and Harold Buckley, used to fly almost every day. Taylor, indeed, flew so low that an order was published at the school forbidding anyone to "perform acrobatics over towns or hospitals." Sawhill's arm refused to knit, and he was obliged to remain under care until November, when he was allowed to sail for home. After landing at Newport News, November 18, he was sent to Fort McHenry for further treatment. Sawhill was Jack Wright's roommate in the camion service, and Wright speaks of the former in his letters, published in the volume A Poet of the Air.
  FRANK MATHIAS TALMAGE, '18, of Great Barrington, Massachusetts, after completing his period of service in camion and ambulance work, enlisted in the American Army as a private, and was later commissioned, on February 18, 1918, as a Second Lieutenant in the Quartermaster Corps. He was stationed at Brest, France.

WILLIAM HENRY TAYLOR, JR., '18, whose dramatic death in combat on September 18, 1918, has already been described, was probably the most skilful and daring of the younger American aviators. His exploits at Issoudun were remembered for months after he left there,---especially his feat of flying under low-hanging wires into a hospital court and then out over the enclosing wall, a "stunt" which few airmen would have cared to attempt. Brief though his career was, he had already made himself a name which is memorable in the history of American aviation.

He was popular with everybody. Lieutenant Bruce C. Hopper describes him at Toul as one of the "Four Musketeers":

"Big Bill Taylor was Porthos; Jack Sawhill, the fiery enthusiast, was d'Artagnan; I, because of my few additional years and gravity, was Athos; and Jack Wright was Aramis."

One of the youngest of the Andover Unit, he was also one of the most brilliant. Nothing could repress his ardent spirit or daunt his impetuous soul.


 PERCY WESTON WANAMAKER, '17, was a member of the first Andover Ambulance Unit, and was stationed in the Champagne District in Section Sanitaire Américaine No. 27. On July 21, 1917, he wrote:

"We have been very fortunate in going right to the front line posts the second day out and have done a lot of work. We are in a lively sector; in fact the most lively of the French front.... The first place we were working consisted of two first line postes de secours which required five cars, and evacuation work at the field hospital which kept five more cars busy. The French had two successful attacks while we were there and during that time there were 15 cars going steadily. . . . We were sent to the postes de secours for 48 hours at a time. One fellow tried to see how long he could sleep at one time during the night out there. He tried often, and 35 minutes was his record; so you can see we were pretty busy."

Another experience reads as follows:

"I was going to a post in the third line trench. It was night as it would be impossible to go there during the day. We got out of the gas, which is thrown in shells, and were within 1/4 mile of the trench when two 'black marias' lit one on each side of the road 50 yards ahead. We cut through the black smoke. That wasn't so had, but after we had reached the post and were speaking to a Frenchman about going down into the dugout, a shell exploded in the same trench and not 15 yards away. I can see the flash of the explosion yet and just wondered which one of us would get it; but we didn't get touched, and the Frenchman wasted no time in showing us down the stairs of an old German dugout, more than 25 feet deep. The next day we saw that the shell had split so that three pieces formed three fourths of the shell. This saved us."

In November, 1917, when the Americans took over the ambulance forces, Wanamaker was rejected because of poor eyesight. He returned home, arriving November 28, 1917. On May 1, 1918, however, he enlisted in the Coast Artillery Corps and sailed on September 18 for France with the 54th Regiment.

  HAROLD BURTON WHIPP, '19, after completing most creditably his period of enlistment with the Andover Unit, returned to this country. He graduated with his class at Phillips Academy in June, 1919.
  HENRY CUTLER WOLFE, '20, after driving six months in the French camion service, went to Italy, on December 6, 1917, as an ambulance driver with the American Red Cross. He served until July 3, 1918, and then tried to enlist in aviation, but was rejected. Returning to America, be entered Kenyon College as a member of the Student Army Training Camp there, in which he held the rank of Sergeant. He was honorably discharged on December 14, 1918.

JACK MORRIS WRIGHT, '17, of New York City entered aviation and, shortly after winning his commission as First Lieutenant, was killed, January 24, 1918, by an accidental fall of his plane. In his letters, published under the title A Poet of the Air, he frequently mentions the Andover Unit. In May, shortly after his arrival in France, be went with a transport section to carry munitions up to the front. "The work is that of a man and will probably make men of us all," he wrote. Again he said :--

"I am on a trip of adventure and am therefore rushed with new adventure every minute of my life. As a result I am becoming more as ye ancient adventurer who rode the moonlit highways long ago with a rapier by his side and a swear-word for a bible."

Later the camion service seemed to him unworthy of young men:

"I have no right to the comradeship of men who put no price to their lives or at least who have the grit to stand up for some god or other. If a man can't come over here to fight, he has no right to share with the fighters---to enjoy the beauty of a land that's waging war---to seek the sympathy of women in mourning."

In July, therefore, he entered the aviation service:

"I have just taken the biggest step of my life---not through bewilderment or through morbidness, but coolly and decidedly, obeying to a call that for me dominates the world and its many voices."

On September 1, when he had secured his uniform as a private in the American Army, he wrote Dr. Stearns of his decision, in a letter which speaks eloquently of the affection and admiration which he and the other boys of the unit felt for the Principal:

"At first we were satisfied with automobile service, but in continuation with that same spirit we had cultivated back on Brothers' Field, we, as a majority, have joined the American Aviation with the ambition of representing the place we came from, to your complete satisfaction, for though a third of a year and three thousand miles away, we still take pride in saying, after a good piece of work, 'I guess Al would be pleased at that. . . .' Since we have been over here we have learned to sympathize with more than the 'Rah-rah' side of life, and to perfect our first comprehension of the words you endeavored to brand us with. We thank you for it---for the foreword you gave to this larger outlook; for the warning, the guiding, the inspiration we owe you. . . . It would not be irrelevant to add that half the Andover Unit is now in training and shall soon be the 'Commissioned Flying' Andover Unit, in the service of America, just as in former wars."

In their training as flyers he and Jack Sawhill were rivals, in a friendly fashion, until the latter had the unfortunate fall which broke his arm and put him permanently out of aviation. On January 19 Lieutenant Wright began taking spirals:

"That will be the beginning of more rapidly succeeding and more vital points of interest; that is, more dangerous slips and drops to be caught up in true, more business-like, warlike flying."

Five days later, in a practice flight, he was killed. His friend, Lieutenant Bruce C. Hopper, wrote of him:

"To one as temperamentally constructed as Jack, all this marvellous phenomenon of the sixth sense, the 'feel' of flying, was an endless study. He loved it all, and made others understand it better because of his finer perceptions. Other than his beautiful personality I think this, the appreciation of the powers of the air, was Jack's greatest contribution to the pioneers of American aviation in France. As the dreamer of real castles in the air, Jack shall long be remembered."

The Roll of Honor (excerpts)