By January 1918, The Red Cross was asking Keene residents to knit helmets for American soldiers serving on the cold, wintry battlefields of Europe. Residents were advised to use No. 2 needles and one-and-a-half hanks of yarn.
A few weeks after The Red Cross’s plea for knitted helmets, The Sentinel published the examination results of several draft registrants. A total of fifteen men — from nine towns around Keene — were cleared to fight for the stars and stripes.
Accompanying the names of those men, were the names of five men that the examination board deemed “physically deficient.”
A month after The Sentinel published those helmet-knitting instructions, Keene residents participated in yet another direct role by producing what The Sentinel called “foot mittens” for American troops. The Sentinel article about the local production of these “foot mittens” — which included directions — explained that Keene resident Mrs. Walter T. Nims headed the project.
“Foot mittens” were to be dropped off at Chase’s Book Store in Keene.
Like the articles about Foot Mittens and Draft Registrants, the majority — or very close to the majority — of articles in The Sentinel in the year 1918 were about the war, the Doughboys fighting it and ways to help. Articles covered diverse topics, from grand war assemblies in Keene, to stories from the front, to examples of local wartime resilience.
The War Raged On
March 7, 1918 — Baccarat, France.
Dirt flew up in the air, as the ground thunderously shook, forcing hundreds of American soldiers crouched in bunkers to take cover. The 165th Infantry Regiment of New York was getting hit hard by German artillery shells. When the dust settled, 22 men were dead. The rest of these young men were surely left dirty, bloody and traumatized.
While no Keene boys were fighting in Baccarat, exactly one week later, all of Keene’s ministers from all of its clergies were comfortably seated on a stage at City Hall — which is in the same location as it is today — geared up for a patriotic address from Dr. Cyrus Townsend Brady, of New York — a prominent journalist of the day. Brady riled up the attendees about both the importance of direct participation in the war effort and religion.
Seated in the peaceful and clean City Hall, hundreds of Keene residents heard advice about how to support the Doughboys across the pond. The Sentinel described the event:
“[Brady’s talk] was an unusually inspiring eloquent and well-conceived plea both for increasing patriotic endeavor and more consistent religious life and service among the people.”
About a week after Brady’s speech, Germany began its final and most violent push. This outburst, which lasted approximately one month, came to be known as the Spring Offensive.
Germany struck hard in the cold of March, 1918.
A British historical site, historylearningsite.co.uk, reports on the Spring Offensive — explaining the Germans advanced over France firing about 3,000 artillery shells every minute. Days after the offensive began, more than 250,000 American troops were injected into the conflict. But these troops were made impotent due to the American General John J. Pershing’s refusal to allow American troops to be led by foreigners.
Still, by mid-April, Germany’s fortunes had switched entirely. Historylearningsite.co.uk reports: “The French Army let the Germans advance knowing that their supply lines were stretched to the limit. Then the French hit back on the Marne and a massive French counter-attack took place. Between March and July 1918, the Germans lost one million men.”
Back in Keene, in early April — in the heat of Germany’s Spring Offensive — an important telegram from Washington D.C. arrived at the Keene home of 26-year-old Sergeant Wilbur L. Mayo, who was serving in Europe.
The telegram informed Mayo’s family that he had been injured, but the family rejoiced when they read the injury described as “slight.”
A similar letter from Washington D.C. arrived on the same day at the home of Private John E. Minatt of Winchester — who served in the same company as Mayo. Minatt’s family was not as lucky as Mayo’s — his injuries were described as “severe.”
Around the same time that these two letters arrived, the Sentinel published an article with the headline: “Robert Morgan Taken by U.S. Marshall for Failure to Register.”
The article described that Morgan — like all men aged 21 to 31 in April, 1918 — was required to register for the draft, but he did not. The article does not mention a punishment but it does say: “Morgan was to be allowed by the federal authorities to enlist in the navy which he was anxious to do.”
Morgan — a man who did not want to register for the draft — was now reported as “anxious” to enlist after spending time in police custody.
Flash forward to Main St. in Keene, 2014.
The restaurant Thai Garden at 118 Main St. is filled with waiters, cooks and bus-boys working hard during any early afternoon to ensure preparations are made for the daily dinner service.
Now go back to the year 1918.
That building at 118 Main St. where Thai Garden now stands was the headquarters of the Keene Fruit Company. In the summer of 1918, the workers at the Keene Fruit Company were collecting fruit pits. The U.S. government had just issued a nation-wide call for fruit pits to be used to make gas masks.
How can fruit pits be used to make gas masks? A February 2012 article in The Atlantic magazine explains how fruit pits were used for gas masks in World War I. “During World War I, the Germans blindsided the Allies with chlorine gas, a hellishly toxic chemical weapon. Once in the body, the yellow-green gas tortured and killed at the same time, causing asphyxiation, convulsions, panic, and a slow death … It was something to be feared, but as American chemist James Bert Garner discovered in 1915, it could be subdued with activated charcoal, made from natural fibers such as those found in peach pits.”
The Keene Evening Sentinel reported in September about the government’s plea for fruit pits: “Managers of hotels and restaurants throughout the land will direct their kitchen staffs to see to it that these heretofore worthless but now very essential pits and shells are not thrown into the garbage can.”
While opportunities to help the war effort such as saving fruit pits would arise, the most accessible — and most publicized — way for Keene residents to contribute to the fight was something called the Keene War Chest.
The Keene War Chest, started in April of 1918, was a fundraising organization that dispersed money to various groups helping the war. In other words, instead of donating to several organizations, donate to one.
The Sentinel explained: “In many places this plan is said to have prevented confusion, done away with a lot of hard work and placed the perplexing and frequently recurring question of war contributions up on a business-like and simple basis.”
Updates about the amount of money raised — and sometimes full-length articles — would frequently appear in the Keene Evening Sentinel until the war ended on Nov. 11.
To Keene residents confused about how to help the war effort, The War Chest represented an obvious example of easy contribution. Many residents contributed a piece of their paychecks. One four-day drive in June raised more-than $12,000.
While Keene residents were ponying up cash for The War Chest, the U.S. Marines suffered unprecedented losses. In early June, the German advance was halted at Belleau Wood, France.
Days later, General Pershing and the Marines he led, struck back. After about 20 days of fighting the marines took control of Belleau Wood, France. Nearly 10,000 marines were injured, 1,811 fatally.
While these Americans risked their lives in dirty, hot, debilitating warfare, the citizens of Keene gathered at Keene Normal School — now Keene State College —f or the yearly commencement ceremonies. Keene Normal School — unlike other colleges across the country — had not experienced a significant drop in attendance.
The Sentinel report about the 1918 commencement ceremony read: “An unusual feature of commencement week at the Normal School in Keene, and quite in keeping with the time, was the pageant entitled “the Triumph of Democracy … The Normal glee club, concealed until the close gave the songs that featured the pageant and there were piano and orchestral accompaniments.”
No More Golfing
In 2014, if one were to drive on Bradford Road in Keene they would run the risk of getting struck by a golf ball. Bradford Road is directly abutting the green of the first hole of Keene Country Club’s golf course.
In June 1918, 21 years after its founding, The Keene Country Club was commandeered by the government and turned into a one-week State Guard encampment. For citizens of Keene, golfing could wait; there was a war to win and soldiers to train.
The Sentinel reported on the first day of the week-long camp: “All four companies reported promptly at camp this morning. Co. K of Keene was the first at the ground, reaching there at 9 o’clock. Co. I of Charlestown and Co. M of Concord followed closely and their tents were soon pitched. Company L: of Nashua detrained at noon and made a quick march to the ground where they found the other companies enjoying their noon meal. Each company had about its full enlistment of sixty men.”
A week before soldiers — living in canvas tents and eating war rations — took the place of golfers at the Keene County club Keene High School, on June 21, graduated the Class of 1918 at a ceremony at City Hall.
The Sentinel’s article about the graduation provided the full valedictorian address. The address closed by saying: “So with the memories of yesterday and hopes for tomorrow, the class of 1918 bids farewell to teachers and schoolmates, farewell to each other and to Keene high school.”
About a month-and-a-half after the graduates participated in their commencement ceremony, sad news arrived at the Pearl Street home of 22-year-old Private Frederick J. Hickey of Keene. The letter, which was written by Major William H. Blanchard of the 103rd Field Hospital, was addressed to Hickey’s mother.
It was published in the Keene Sentinel on August 6: “Dear Mrs. Hickey: Your son, Private Frederick J. Hickey, Co. G, 103d infantry, died this evening at 6:30 o’clock . . . There is nothing that can be said to tighten your great loss, but we feel that you should know everything possible was done to save his life and that he died among friends.”
Hickey’s parents, a week prior to this fatal message, had received a message written by their son on the front. He said in that letter than he was in good health and spirit.
Charlie Chaplin Still Plays
The Majestic Theatre and the Scenic Theatre in Keene—both now defunct—had an advertisement in the Sentinel for a Charlie Chaplin film. The advertisement read: “Special Prices Today and Tomorrow.” A ticket was 15 cents.
In mid-September Bellows Falls resident Edward Leene was visiting Keene—his home-town—after spending about a year fighting for the 120th Field Artillery. The Sentinel article reads: “Lieut. Leene received orders to return to the United States and left France about Aug. 28 and is to report at Camp Meade, Md., where he will be an instructor in the artillery service until further orders. He was on his way home a few hours after getting his orders, which were entirely unexpected.”
Days after this article was published, on Sept. 25, the U.S. Military and France initiated the Meuse-Argonne Offensive along the entire western front.
Approximately 1.2 million Americans fought in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, which ended when the Germans signed the Armistice of Compiegne on Nov. 11.
American forces suffered heavy losses during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive while making great strides toward defeating Germany.
The battle, claiming 26,000 American lives, was the most deadly for U.S. troops in World War One.
“On the key to victory in the Argonne, however, there was no disagreement. The iron general (Pershing) confessed it on Armistice night in Paris. ‘The men were willing to pay the price,’” writes Thomas Fleming in his 1993 article in Military History Magazine titled: Meuse-Argonne Offensive of World War I
While thousands of miles away, war raged on. In Fitzwilliam on Sep. 20, a heavy rain made activities at the annual Town Fair difficult. Some afternoon activities were canceled at the event, which ended with an evening of dance in the town hall.
Peace At Last
At the end of September an alarming letter reached the home of Corporal Chester L. Kingsbury of Keene. The letter was from a friend of Kingsbury’s stateside who said that a friend of his had told him that he saw Kingsbury’s name on the list of those killed in action.
The family nervously hoped that the letter was misinformed. For days they waited for word from their possibly deceased relative until news finally got home that Kingsbury was alive. Kingsbury’s friends were wrong.
An advertisement for the Liberty Loan Committee of New England ran in The Keene Sentinel on Oct. 3. In big bold letters at the top of the advertisement was the question: “how much would the Kaiser Tax your business?” The rest of the advertisement read:“What is left of business in the invaded districts of France and Belgium? What will be left of business here if we fail to crush the sinister power of Prussian militarism? How much would you have left after paying the taxes and levies imposed by victorious Germany?”
But the citizens of Keene, and the rest of the country, would not have to pay these hypothetical taxes. The war ended at 11:11 a.m. on Nov. 11.
The front page of the Nov. 11 edition of the Sentinel had the largest headline of the entire year—four inches tall and spanning the whole page were just three words: “Peace At Last.”
The subhead read: “Germany Surrenders Signs Armistice.” For Keene residents, the end of World War didn’t just mean “Peace at Last,” it meant that everything could go back to normal. Fruit pits were no longer needed. Neither were “foot mittens,” or helmets.
Just like the doughboys sailing back home, the residents of Keene could finally sleep easy.
The Great War was over.