Category Archives: military

Jägers vs. Russians, August 1916

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 162-163:

10.8.1916 Early at sunrise, we had a view from the ridge on all sides that I have rarely seen so beautiful — one mountain range behind the other, and one summit next to the other.

Just as we arrived at Height 1478, there was fierce rifle and machine-gun fire ahead of us. The Russians attacked our positions but were repelled. We camped on the opposite slope of 1478, but the Russians must have noticed us because they graced us with several shells and shrapnel. Oberjäger Schmelz received a shrapnel shot in the upper leg as a result. We are lying in the warm sunshine all morning and at noon.

We are supposed to take back two heights; the eastern foothills of Point 1385 that the Austrians have recently lost — Captain Conrad leads the storm battalion made from Austrians and our 1st and 3rd Companies. I lead the 3rd Company, and Seemann leads the 1st. While taking advantage of the very difficult and partly densely overgrown terrain, I move into a deep gorge with my company in the afternoon where we line ourselves up for the assault as our very meagre artillery fires. It is a miracle that the Russians didn’t see us, as we would have fared very badly otherwise. We were thus only shot at slightly when we were already in the gorge. I likewise give the order to attack as soon as we see that the 1st Company is advancing to the right of us. Lingelbach starts with the first wave of the assault, and then Kramer. Both of them swarm out. I still stay back with the reserve platoon for the time being.

The ascent is incredibly high, steep, and troublesome with dense undergrowth and brittle trees everywhere. There is soon raging gunfire. Our artillery now shoots very well, and seven of our machine guns uninterruptedly pound the opposing foxholes. The Russians respond, and it is such an infernal racket that you can barely understand the person next to you. 15 minutes after our firing lines have advanced, I can’t stand it anymore down below and order my reserve platoon to follow me. There is suddenly loud screaming halfway up. Jägers shout “Over Here!”, and Russian voices yell in confusion. To the left of me, I unclearly see a large number of Russians through the bushes with jägers among them. I think that this is a flanking attack and even get the pistol ready to fire. I then see that the Russians have no weapons — they were the first captives.

I now continue ahead in all hastiness and arrive fully exhausted with my reserves at the 1200-metre-high ridge, which has been in our possession for 15 minutes. The 1st Company have also captured their height, and so have the Austrians to the left of us. My company has taken almost 320 prisoners. Some of the Russians defended themselves from our attack, but they surrendered without resistance for the most part. A large number had fled. Within the company, I have one dead, two heavily wounded and four lightly; incredibly minor casualties in relation to the Russian superiority and their brilliant position. Such a splendid success would have been impossible if there were only 50 Englishmen up here. The height was taken at 7 o’clock in the evening. There was then a lot of work — transporting the wounded and the prisoners, expanding the position to the other side, reorganising the company, pitching tents, setting up guards, providing food and so forth.

Our men are shooting a pig. There are also potatoes and kohlrabi (German turnips) up here.

I slept the night in the tent because the Ruthenian wooden huts stink too much and are likely full of vermin.

The Russians were armed with Japanese rifles.

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Entering Bukovina, August 1916

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 155-156:

1.8.1916 We continue on a rapid climb in the eastern valley at 6 o’clock in the morning. The ascent begins after approximately three kilometres. The road, which was only built during the war, winds its way up the steep slope in countless wide windings. Around noon, we arrive close beneath the peak of the 1599-metre-high Copilasul [Rom. ‘The Small Child’] whose grassy summit is lined with field fortifications.

We pitch our tents on the grassy ridge that forms the border between Hungary and Bukovina, and which leads to the 1655-metre-high Stog [Rom. ‘hayrick’]. It swarmed with jägers from various battalions on the way there. There is a lovely view here of the Pip Ivan [‘Father Ivan’?] (2026 metres) and the Corbul [Rom. ‘The Raven’] (1700 metres). On the higher mountains, the woodland suddenly stops at the top, and the summit is a green peak of grass. Our field kitchens can’t drive to us at the top anymore. The food needs to be carried up in cooking crates using pack animals.

The last piece of bread has been consumed — nothing more to eat. I am sleeping in the grass during the afternoon. The field kitchens are to be dragged up via horse and carriage tonight. When it gets dark, an Austrian guard drives a large flock of sheep past and sells them for 1 Mark a piece. Many have even vanished unpaid. My company has pinched at least eight that will immediately be butchered and brought to the field kitchen. They were very beautiful animals with wonderful raven-black, shiny and long curly fur.

Dozens of watchfires are blazing up everywhere upon the heights, and you can hear singing from all around. It is a marvellous evening. Such a thing would be completely ruled out in the West, as the thick shells would be present within five minutes.

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German Army at Ostend, 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 95-96:

We continued to Ostend at 8 o’clock the next morning, where we arrived after 10. During a morning drink, we then waited for our company which arrived an hour later. The whole army is in fact now going one by one to Ostend for a day to swim. Count von Soden was also there. After a lovely swim in the sea, we ate lunch together in the mess hall of the Marine Corps. While the company had to leave again immediately afterwards, we extra excursionists were able to stay until 5 o’clock and lay in the sun on the beach in our swimming trunks all afternoon. We then took the electric railway along the entire dunes to Blankenberge. On this trip, we saw torpedo boats, two submarines, and all the coastal fortifications. We then took the train to Bruges, where we had to wait over an hour for the express train from Ostend, which was delayed due to engine failure. It was unfortunately already so dark that we couldn’t see much of ancient Bruges. After the endless French, we had a lot of fun with the Flemish language, which you can understand quite well if you pay close attention.

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First Flight, September 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 95:

Seemann flew first, and then I. I was in the air for about 15 minutes, namely at an altitude of 400 to 500 metres, and it was simply wonderful. You don’t notice the ascent. You suddenly see everything deep down below without any jolts, and the landscape very slowly glides away beneath you. The forests, villages, and the many castles surrounded by moats look delightful, and the roads stand out sharply — a very indescribable, beautiful sight — no trace of dizziness. You feel completely safe and travel much more smoothly than in the best car. The only unpleasant moment is when the engine is turned off for gliding. You thereby have the feeling as though you are plummeting down forwards. The ground literally flies towards you, and you are suddenly rolling on the ground again. I am very happy that I was able to experience this. I would prefer to fly every day. You thus understand why everyone is rushing to go to the aeroplanes.

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Gas and Horse Training, August 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 89:

We were on exercise with an infantry platoon from 7 o’clock to half past 10 yesterday morning. Two sections have been formed, and I am in the one belonging to Baron von Wangenheim, a captain of the guards who seems to be very nice. In the afternoon, we shot at discs by the large mine rubble heap at Carvin. The pioneers have their training ground next door, where the people are trained in constructing trenches, shelters, and obstacles; and in destroying and overcoming the latter. We were shown a very interesting attack using smoke and gas bombs. The first produces a white, opaque fog so that the enemy is unable to see a target. The gas bombs, on the other hand, spread an invisible gas that affects the respiratory system and especially the eyes. The effect was extremely unpleasant despite only a weak filling being used. At the spot where such a bomb had exploded 5 minutes ago, we all had to cough violently even with the very strong wind, and our eyes were watering so much that we could hardly see anything.

Then came the main fun — the riding lesson. Only very few can ride properly. A lot have only ridden on some horse in their spare time, and many, including me, have never sat on top of one. The more advanced are having lessons with an Uhlan riding master, and the rest of us with a patrolman. We walked and trotted around in circles for an hour, and this also went very well and without falling off since we received the most patient Uhlan horses. Only the sitting region hurts terribly today. We had the same usual exercises again this morning, then an hour of lessons this afternoon, and now it’s back to riding. We are all supposed to exercise an entire company on horseback tomorrow. How I am supposed to do this after just two riding lessons is a complete mystery to me. In any case, it will be great entertainment for the public. Our captain has already offered to write us holiday tickets to Ostend for next Sunday. I will be going there with Baumbach, of course. We also want to visit Bruges and Ghent if possible.

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Enduring a Cannonade, May 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 70-71:

Suddenly, at 6 o’clock sharp, a great cannonade starts to our right — the guns boom continuously — the individual explosions can no longer be distinguished. The main shooting is far away from us in the north, but the 16th is also being lit up badly. It looks wonderful how it tremors over there by the heap of bricks. There are round clouds of shrapnel hanging everywhere, and thick black and yellow-green clouds rise from the shells down on the ground. Rifles and machine guns fire at the same time — three aircraft buzz in the air. It was a hell of a racket. But things were about to get better because suddenly we too were under fire. One by one, the shells crash into our trench which is soon filled in in many places. Quantities of sharp shell fragments lie around everywhere. I have everyone but the most essential guards crawl into the shelters, and like so, we endure the bombardment for three hours. To set an example, I am now and then forced to walk along the entire trench with a calm step and an outwardly indifferent expression, whistling a song, so that people cannot say that the officers had slipped away. We remarkably didn’t have one wounded person although at least 100 shells fell into my company section alone. On the contrary, the neighbouring company is said to have three dead and several wounded.

It is now half past 3 and we are not being shot at anymore, but it is still continuing uninterrupted in the north. We are informed that the English attacked again at Neuve Chapelle with great superior numbers, but were repelled. We were probably only lit up like this so that we would believe that we too were being attacked and, in this way, to prevent us from moving our reserves north. I have got a real headache from the hours of banging and roaring. Hopefully, this shooting doesn’t put a damper on our plans, as we actually have to be relieved this evening.

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Trench Warfare, December 1914

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 33-34:

We finally arrive at the Front safe and sound except for a few lightly wounded people, where the company commander of the 2nd Company, Prince Lippe, welcomes us with a sigh of relief. There is indescribable confusion here. It is still dark, and no one really knows what has happened and who is friend or foe, because the English, who harass us so much anyway, have put on the shakos of our dead jägers and are therefore not so easy to recognise as enemies in the semi-dark. Patrols are consequently sent forward from the communication trenches, where we finally discover that the English had not been so fortunate with their raid as they had hoped. Only half of the foremost trench ahead of the 2nd Company is in their possession — two machine guns too, unfortunately — an entire platoon is also missing. Anyone who didn’t fall was captured.

We can see the English working feverishly from just 30 metres away. With the sandbags they had brought with them, they quickly built shooting slits facing us, and now the most beautiful shootout is already in progress. It is no child’s play given the short distance. I repeatedly urge my men to be extremely careful. I just call a volunteer standing two steps next to me who holds his head out for too long after the shot. At that moment, his head jolts, the familiar and terrible dull sound of the bullet’s impact sounds, and the man slowly collapses. The bullet penetrated the forehead and tore off half the skullcap behind. Still mid-fall, he claws his hands into the wound and smears himself over and over with his own brain. It was a terrible sight. I have seen this wound in particular very often though, because in the trenches there are almost only headshots which have an explosive effect at such a short distance.

Recapturing the trench with an assault does not seem advisable considering the expected large losses. We therefore decide to advance into the communication trenches with hand grenades to try and get the English out this way. But first, the pioneers (engineers) are to work on them with mortars. However, most of the day passes when everything is ready, and the mortars first begin their task late in the afternoon. These are small mortars that hurl powerful explosive charges fitted with fuses through the air at short distances. We soon see the mortar shells swaying in the air. The explosion occurs shortly afterwards with an incredible bang — clouds of black smoke rise as high as a house. The English fire at us in the same way, only their mortars are a lot smaller and not as effective as ours. Besides this, they were poorly aimed on this day.

Our grenade throwers now also advance — Two pioneers in the trench ahead continue to throw hand grenades in front of them. As soon as one explodes, they immediately jump forward into the smoke and throw the next one. A platoon of jägers follows afterwards with fixed bayonets. The rest of us subject the enemy to heavy rifle and machine-gun fire in the meantime. The attacking column occasionally holds up a hat on a stick so that we know how far they have pushed ahead. We then adjust our fire accordingly. We slowly advance this way, and we gain back half of the lost positions in the evening. We of course spend the night in tense vigilance, as it is not impossible for us to be attacked again. Everything stays calm though, and we begin cleaning up the trench as soon as it gets light. This kind of approach must have become a bit scary for the English, as we regained our old positions in a very short time and without any casualties.

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German Officer’s Kit, 1914

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 15:

Yesterday evening gave me a big surprise. 11 large sacks of post had arrived, including a number of parcels and letters for me which had only been in transit for seven days. It is always a joyous celebration when the post arrives. I am well-equipped, and I have plenty of clothes. The excessive amounts cannot be carried, and I have just seen my suitcase here for the first time again in eight days. The processing of promotions is very slow. The officer-deputy, Totzek, was promoted to officer at the beginning of September, and the recognition from the Kaiser has still not arrived today. It will not take long for me to get the Iron Cross, as my actions at Notre Dame de Lorette made a great impression. I should have it in four weeks’ time at most if I don’t get wounded in the near future. All the officers now have it with the exception of Prince Reuss, who came to the battalion with me.

When we march, I carry on my knapsack that I named Badger — a coat, a canvas and cooking tools. Inside as reserve: 1 spare shirt, 1 pair of underwear, 6 pairs of socks, 1 woolly undercoat, 1 cummerbund, wristlets, pulse warmers, 1 towel, felt shoes, a field cap, washing and shaving stuff, a map with writing tools and tinned rations consisting of 2 double portions. Also, 3 small tin cans with cocoa and one with salt; often even vegetables and 1 bottle of red wine too. Hanging on my belt: Sabre, pistol, ammunition bag with bullets, cigarettes, mints, sugar cubes and matches. My bread bag holds letters, a first aid kit, cutlery; and a load of small things like bread and bacon and so on. I also have a field flask, a cup, mittens, and binoculars around my neck. The burden is therefore quite large. I also have a load of spare clothes and one pair of laced shoes in my suitcase. Our orderlies wash all our clothes on our rest days. We live wonderfully and happily here in Arleux, but we always have to be ready to leave within 10 minutes.

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Pilots Transit to Poland, 1919

From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 839ff.

After the contracts had been signed, preparations were made for departure to Warsaw. It was predicted that the American pilots would depart in the middle of September 1919. The matter of choosing a route was simplified somewhat by the fact that there was to some extent a rail route already in existence, which went through Germany. From April to July 1919 several tens of thousands of soldiers of Haller’s Army had been transported by this route. However, there was always the possibility of obstruction by the defeated Germans, and transports of special significance became the subject of negotiations and petty decisions. The first period after the cease-fire in November 1918 was the most difficult. As the result of strong German opposition, many transports from Central Europe to France had to pass through Austria, Switzerland and Italy. But this route was too lengthy and went through too many borders, and the Allies stressed the opening of a shorter route. The airmen were not traveling with any military equipment, and they were traveling incognito. This was important since at that time Poland and Germany were in a state of undeclared conflict. The most inflammatory issues in this situation were the anti–German uprising in Silesia, the problem of Gdańsk’s (Danzig’s) future, and the remaining disputed territories where the plebiscites were to be held. Therefore, the Germans could not look favorably on any strengthening of the Polish Army, especially by highly qualified airmen of the American and British Armed Forces. It must be remembered that a substantial group of Allied officers served in the Allied Commission for Upper Silesia, established in August 1919 by the Supreme Command of the Allied Forces. The U.S. army delegate there was Colonel Goodyear. The Commission’s task was to observe the situation in Silesia and prepare conditions for the transfer and assignment of these territories by the Allied Forces. In the first version of the plan to use the America airmen, as we remember, the military authorities in Warsaw had planned to direct them to Silesia, just as Paderewski had.

…

Taking into consideration all the events mentioned above, the airmen’s trip was carefully camouflaged. Firstly, they were equipped with uniforms of General Haller’s Army, but en route between Paris and Warsaw they could not even wear those uniforms. To avoid unnecessary publicity, Col. Howland recommended that they wear substitute uniforms. Since one of the conditions of the contract stipulated that the volunteers cover the cost of their journey to Poland, they joined up with a Red Cross transport and in Coblenz they joined an “American Typhus Relief” train going to Poland.

Just before their departure, there was a parting of both the Polish military authorities in Paris and of Paderewski. It was a rather warm occasion, which lasted two hours in the Hotel Ritz, where Ignacy Paderewski had his headquarters. Apart from being Prime Minister, Paderewski was also a delegate at the Peace Conference in Paris. After Fauntleroy presented the squadron, Paderewski was supposed to have said, “Nothing has ever touched me so much as the offer of you young men to fight and, if necessary to die for my country.” The next ceremony in honor of the airmen was organized by one of the most fervent promoters of the whole venture, Gen. Tadeusz Rozwadowski, and attended by the newly appointed Polish Minister to the United States, Prince Casimir Lubomirski, Col. Howland, and Gen. Ewing. D. Booth, AEF Chief of Staff. The presence of the latter needs a little explanation. It seems to confirm that, independently of Gen. Howland’s role, the higher AEF authorities also recognized the nature of the expedition and were not opposed to it. The Ukrainian historian R.G. Simonenko said that the presence of Gen. Booth confirmed that the volunteers were an element of international intervention against Russian Bolshevism. The aims of the airmen reached far further than the occupation of Kiev. According to Simonenko, they aimed to march on Moscow.

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Defending a New Poland, 1919-1921

From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 67ff.

The presence of American airmen in the Polish army was preceded by a series of efforts between the individual enlistment of officers, soldiers and citizens of the United States and the drafting of a separate American legion to fight in Poland. Endeavors in this field lasted as long as the Polish–Bolshevik war itself. Their one tangible result was the establishment of the Kościuszko Squadron, a military unit unique in being the sole representative of the Western Hemisphere in this war, since in 1920 the only regular military forces helping Poland were the army of the Ukrainian People’s Republic under Ataman Semen Petlura and a small Belorussian Army under the command of General Stanisław Bułak Bałachowicz. Unlike the American volunteers, both of these formations fought primarily for the independence of their own nations.

The efforts of representatives of the Polish Republic were based on a variety of factors. The main one was the threat of German and Russian revolution and the continuation of the war in Eastern Europe. When Poland regained her independence in 1918, her borders were not yet defined. Her administration was based mainly on the dedication of civil servants of Polish descent, who remained on their jobs after the fall of the three occupying powers, Germany, Russia and Austria-Hungary. The Army comprised barely a few tens of thousands of veterans of the Polish Military Organization, the Polish Legions, and officers and soldiers who gradually flowed in from the armies of the partitioning powers. After four years of war, during which enemy armies plundered everything that could be of any use, there was nothing left in Poland. The infrastructure of roads, railways, bridges, water-supply systems and power-plants was almost completely destroyed. One must remember that the front rolled through some areas several times.

Józef Piłsudski, Commander-in-Chief and Head of the Polish State, and the entire nation faced an enormous challenge. Confronted by shortages, many Polish politicians turned towards the West. It was not only about delivering aid to a suffering population. It was also of primary importance to repel the Bolshevik armies approaching from the east and to prevent the communist revolution in Russia from uniting with the German “Spartakus” movement. However, the young Polish state did not possess enough military might.

Thus Pilsudski’s attention concentrated on bringing to Poland the 80,000 strong army of General Józef Haller, which included a significant number of Polish residents of the United States and which was still stationed in France after November 1918. In fact, it remained there until April 1919, and became the pivot of many plans both political and military within the Polish National Committee, and also in French, British, and American circles. Haller’s Army was officially chartered in France by a decree of the French president on June 4, 1917. Following insistent appeals by the famous pianist Ignacy Jan Paderewski to President Woodrow Wilson, permission was given also to recruit Poles living in America. Up until the end of the war, 24,260 American Poles served in the army’s ranks. The rest were recruited from prisoners of war, Poles living in western Europe, and Polish volunteers from other countries. That superbly trained and equipped army was no mere bagatelle in November 1918, when Poland reappeared on the European map. For both the Americans and the Poles, it had already set a precedent—as reborn Poland’s first army recruited from beyond her national territory and as the first American contingent to fight beyond its own national boundries in the sole interests of a foreign state.

The hope given by the existence of this precedent was rekindled when some of the hundreds of thousands of demobilized soldiers and officers of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF), who were mainly based in France, indicated their readiness to serve, even under a foreign flag. It did not only affect Poland.

Among the important factors, it is also worth mentioning that as a consequence of the partitions, a significant group of Polish officers served in the armies of other states, which obviously influenced organization of the Polish army after over a century of occupation. In November and December 1918, the cadre of officers, at first derived from the Polish Legions of Józef Piłsudski, began to fill with Poles who, lacking other opportunities, had trained and become officers in the Austro-Hungarian, Russian, or to a lesser extent German armies. One can assume that in the Polish Army there was a conducive atmosphere for the transfer of officers and soldiers from other armies. We already mentioned here the consistent threat to the Republic, prevalent from the very beginning of its independent existence. Polish politicians and the military thought that a foreign military contingent would have a restraining influence on the appetites of both her large and small neighbors. On the assumptions made above, Ignacy Jan Paderewski, a few days after the signing of the armistice in November 1918, asked the American Secretary of War Newton D. Baker for permission to discharge all soldiers and officers of Polish extraction from the American Army to enable them to serve in the Polish Army. According to various estimates—independently of Haller’s army, which was not a part of the American Armed Forces—there were approximately 200,000–230,000 officers and soldiers “of Polish extraction” who were serving under the Star Spangled Banner. It needs to be stressed that in the aforementioned appeal to Baker, Paderewski was only concerned with Polish “resident aliens,” excluding American citizens. Baker, who had been considered a friend to Poland, refused, fearing that the officers and soldiers would serve a nationalistic cause, which he suspected Poland of propagating. This argument managed to convince Wilson, thanks to which the project failed.

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