University Place

The Great War at Home in Wisconsin: Part II

Welcome to the second iteration of our Wisconsin’s Great War trilogy of presentations today. The first one was this morning, and this is the second one, and there’s one more after that. My name is Helmut Knies, I’m actually a retired archivist at the Wisconsin Historical Society. And I have the honor of being the moderator for this afternoon’s presentation where we have three wonderful presenters who are gonna delve into this topic in greater depth. First off is Peter Belmonte, who is a retired major in the United States Air Force, and who’s gonna give a presentation on collaborating Americans in the US military during World War I, a case study of Kenosha and Racine, Wisconsin. After his presentation, he will be followed by Captain Brian Faltinson from the Wisconsin Army National Guard who is the National Guard historian. And he has been very active in a two-year project to document the history and activities of the 15,000 Wisconsin servicemen who fought in the 32nd Red Arrow Division in World War I called Dawn of the Red Arrow. And, finally, we are proud to have Doctor Jana Wei [Weiss] from the Westflische Wilhelms-Universitt in Mnster in Germany who is going to give a presentation about quote unquote, “German Enemies, World War I, and the US Brewing Industry.” So, our three presenters will go in that order and then, after that, we will have an opportunity for questions. So, thank you very much.

– Thank you, Helmut. And thank you all for coming. So, this is a narrow topic. Calabria is a region in Italy. It’s the toe and the instep of the Italian boot. And it’s the part that’s been kicking Sicily for Millennia. I’ve collected data on about 1100 men so far. That’s probably about a fifth of what’s out there. So, I need to do a little more work. And I’ve written about– I’ve analyzed and written about 400 of the men. But I’m gonna narrow that even further to immigrants. And I’ll explain the quotation marks. Immigrants from these two neighboring villages, Marano Marchesato and Marano Principato, who came to the United States, settled in Kenosha and Racine, Wisconsin, and then served in the US military during World War I. And here we have one such man. On the right is Carmine Chiappetta with his brother Pasquale Chiappetta. Carmine was born in 1887. He came to the US just after the turn of the century, lived a few years in the US, went back to Italy, got married and started a family, then he came back to the United States, settled in Kenosha. He was drafted at the end of May 1918.

He was sent to Camp Grant, which is near Rockford, Illinois. About two weeks later, he was sent to Camp Custer in Michigan where he became part of the 85th Division. About a month after that, the 85th went overseas. Ended up in France in early August. It became a depot division. So, it sent replacements out to replace combat losses. Carmine, toward the end of August, was sent to the 18th Infantry Regiment, First Division. So, it was a veteran division. He got there just in time to get a bare modicum of training before the Saint-Mihiel Offensive in September 12, 1918.

This is a copy of the notice of his death sent to his brother. It says killed in action in the line of duty September 12, 1918. It says it was sent to his father, Charles. Probably should have read brother. Pasquale and Charles are kind of interchanged. It’s got his name misspelled several different ways. And, even in the divisional history and the unit history of the 18th Regiment, his name is misspelled in the list of those killed and even transposed. Illustrates some of the problems with that. I’ll talk later about the short time between when he was drafted and when he went into combat. But this is just one of the stories I have found. All right, so there’s about 68 men that fall into this, my little narrow category. And, right away, you see they’re not all immigrants, per se. Seven of them were born in the United States. And there was a few who served in the military… Were born in Italy, served in the military here, and then went back to Italy. So, immigrants in the loose sense. Again, 68 men from the villages and they’re broken down in that. Year of birth, there’s no surprise here.

War is a young man’s game. So, most of them were in their early 20s when they were drafted. All but three were drafted, by the way. You see the oldest one was a little over 31 years of age. The youngest was a young man born in Racine who entered the Navy. Entry into the service. As I said, all but three were drafted. The two men joined the Navy voluntarily and another young man was in the Students Army Training Corps, which is voluntary. And I can talk a little bit more about that later. But you’ll see about 47% of the men were drafted in May, June, or July. There were two big draft days. At the end of May, when Carmine Chiappetta and a lot of other men went, and the end of July. And that’s reflected there. First, with September 5th, which is the very first– If I’m not mistaken– the very first call up. A small amount went in September 5th. And then a bunch later. Mid-September more men went, but that’s the first call up. The last man that was called up was October 22, just a couple weeks before the armistice.

Service overseas, 33 went overseas. I got an asterisk there because one man, James Greco, left the United States on eight November. Armistice was declared three days later. And then, on 13 November, the ship turned around and came back. I gave him credit for serving overseas. And 35 served in the US only. Here’s a departure for France. You see most in July. And, again, there’s my little asterisk. November, one man. The last soldier to actually serve in France departed on October 30. He got there right at the time of the armistice. Types of units, overseas. The combat arms infantry– And, here, I’m talking about just the men that served in rifle companies. There were people that served in supply companies, headquarters companies, things of that nature, but, for the rifle companies, you see it’s broken out 15, four in machine gun units. One in field artillery. Yes, they had cavalry regiments. There were four cavalry regiments that were sent to France.

Only one, I think it was the Second Cavalry, actually served in combat. The others were escort duties, courier duties, things of this nature. And then two men were in the engineer units. One was what we’d equate to a combat engineer unit today. A divisional support engineer. And motor supply train. The word “motor” means it had trucks. Most of the supply– Trains had nothing to do, really, with trains. Supply units had horse-drawn wagons. So, most of them– In this case, one man was in a motor supply unit. You see division field hospitals and various other medical units. And then miscellany right there. I have a thing for rear area, behind the lines units. And there you see a butchery company. I get a kick out of that. But they had men that were roasting coffee and coffee plants, ice plants. There was men that were garden service regiments. You know, they tilled the soil to get a little more food for the men that we didn’t have to import. Nobody in this study was in that.

But that’s beside the point. I get a kick out of those units. Stateside units. Depot brigades and development battalions. Prior to February 1918– Of course, the draft roped in these millions of men. Kind of took them in and, in that millions of men, supposedly, you’re supposed to weed out men that were physically infirm or mentally had issues. But that didn’t always work. So, you had men that maybe had physical problems. You had hundreds of thousands of immigrants. Many of whom could either not speak English at all or had difficulty speaking English to the extent that would be required of a soldier to serve in an active unit. Prior to February 1918, those men kind of struggled and did the best they can. In February, the War Department– This is kind of the Progressive Era reflected in the War Department. They instituted development battalions. Now, these battalions were to take in men. Mostly they couldn’t speak English, had physical problems that could be remedied and they were awaiting treatment. But the idea was to try– Not just get rid of these guys. Just discharge them. But to try to make them soldiers that would be effective.

So, they taught them English. They taught them citizenship classes. Things of this nature. They segregated them. There was even venereal cases that were in their separate battalions. That was kind of a moral failing kind of thing is the way they looked at it. But I think that’s a fascinating development there. Infantry, you see the men that were in general service training. NARD stood for November Automated Replacement Draft. That was a group of men that were slated to go overseas as replacements in November. War ended before they went overseas. Field artillery, New Orleans coast artillery, US Guards battalions– That’s another interesting unit. They were men that either were slightly over age or were capable of performing soldier’s duties, but maybe not in active service in the field. So, they performed guard duties at various installations and things of this nature. Trench mortar. Three men were in the 9th Trench Mortar Battery. And there’s a miscellany. Ammunition train. Again, that’s not a train, it’s mule or horse-drawn carts that carry the ammunition for a unit division.

Students’ Army Training Corps is almost like ROTC, except, in October 1918, they took the men that were in college. They were allowed to enlist in units and they were in the Army and were getting paid. But they would study maybe a technical subject with the idea of graduating and going into the service as a technical expert or even as an officer. It was disbanded about a month after the armistice. Ranks, not surprising, most men remained a private, about 79%. About 12% were private, first class. I’ve got names. Don’t worry about the names. No test. Two men to corporal. The highest rank there was a battalion sergeant major. This gentleman here started as a private and he kind of just went to battalion sergeant major. I have a feeling he probably had that kind of presence. And he ended up starting in an infantry unit, but, before he went into combat, he transferred into a support-type unit. So, he probably had some kind of skills or something like that to warrant the promotion. There were even specialist ranks. Cook, musician first class, and musician second class. Those were, in addition to being descriptive, they were actual ranks. And they warranted higher pay than a private, for example. There were other, not in this study, but other ranks.

Rank specialists, like bugler. Yes, they still had buglers. Mechanic, wagoner, horseshoer, saddler. Are we in the 19th or 20th century there with that kind of thing? And chauffeur, which was basically just a driver. Five pairs of brothers in uniform. And that’s not too surprising. They all came as family units sometimes and settled together, so you had five pairs of brothers. I’ve got an asterisk there, ’cause there is also many sets and pairs of cousins that I just didn’t list. In my larger study, that is even multiplied. The biggest grouping I saw was three brothers from Chicago. All three were tailors. All three worked together for another brother. And they all went to the service. In May of 1918, Congress passed a law. It made it easier for servicemen that were aliens, that were not American citizens, to become an American citizen. It sped up the process. You wouldn’t have to wait to declare your intention, wait five years or whatever. It sped up the process. And, here, again, names.

But about 23 of the Italian-born became American citizens while in the Army or just after the Army using their Army service as grounds. And it’s about 38% of the Italian-born men. My expanded study showed about 56 out of 120. So, it’s about 47%. And I think it’s gonna– Just from the feel I get from all the other people I’ve been looking at. It’s gonna be around 50% of the men took the opportunity to do that. That’s just a copy of one of the soldier’s documents. This happens to be somebody from– They’re stationed at Camp Taylor in Louisiana. And they had huge ceremonies at Camp Taylor and other places where they had hundreds of people all at once. They’d swear in and there’d be speeches and things of this nature. Remember, at the beginning of my presentation, I showed a picture of Carmine Chiappetta and showed a picture of his notice of death. Well, this is Carmine and his wife, Francesca, in the 1940s in Kenosha. So, the report of his death was exaggerated. I knew that from the– I knew that going into this, because I was fortunate enough to get a copy of his statement of service card from the wonderful museum here, Wisconsin Veteran Museum, that said he was severely wounded, but he had lived. So, I knew that. And I thought to myself, “If he’s severely wounded, maybe he filed a VA claim later.” I don’t know. So, I wrote away. I wrote to the VA. And, after several weeks, that’s what I got. Not the coffee mug.

That’s mine. But that’s a stack about Carmine. I could go into it, but, timing wise, I won’t. But he was, indeed, very badly wounded. Reported as killed. He said, Saint-Mihiel, he remembered going over the top. He remembered digging a hole to get into. And the next thing he remembered he woke up in a hospital. A bullet had struck him right in the top of the head. And I learned a lot of medical terminology reading this. But right in the top of the head. Must have been a spent bullet. I imagine it went through the helmet. And it broke the bones, shattered the bones in about a one-inch or so diameter area. Did not break the skin. But it drove pieces of the bone through the dura into the brain. So, indeed, a bad wound. I imagine his friends saw that happen and said, “Well, Carmine’s bought it.” And reported it back. Later, another soldier from his unit was wounded and saw him in the hospital and reported back up through the chain that he was alive.

The picture, there’s Pasquale and his brother. That was June or July 1918. Six months later, in January, he came back. I love that. What a difference six months makes. I mean, obviously he’s very happy his brother is alive. I’m sure Carmine’s happy, too. That brings me to men wounded in action. Now, for this, I counted just men who served in combat infantry units. I did not count one man who transferred to an infantry unit after that unit was out of combat. Another guy was in a unit that didn’t see combat. I didn’t count the machine gun battalions, even though they saw extensive combat. I didn’t count the man in the engineer unit or the man in an artillery unit. Just the guys with the guns in their hands on the ground. Nine out of 13, 69%. So, that’s a high rate. And, when I expand it, even looking at my expanded, slightly expanded and the larger expanded to a bunch of different studies, it’s going to be about this amount for people in the same boat. Men who were drafted in the spring and went overseas. About 69-70%.

I call your attention to the man on the bottom, Eugenio Scarlato. Wounded. Not sure what day he was wounded, but he died of wounds November 19, eight days after the armistice. So, there again, you can imagine the family being happy and excited, the war’s over. Eugenio made it. He was wounded, but he’s okay. Then you get a sad telegram. That brings me– This is where I wanted– an interesting point. The plight of draftees– I say spring, but I’m looking at just May, the May draftees. Seven men fall under that category. Now, look at this timeline and just picture in your mind, if you’re a soldier and you have to do this. Drafted on May 26. You’re sent to Camp Grant for initial processing. All this takes time. You’re not trained yet. You’re filling out paperwork. You’re trying to understand what they’re telling you. They’re yelling at you. June 13, they were sent to Camp Custer.

About 2500 people were sent from Grant to Custer. June 13, so it’s just a couple weeks later, to fill vacancies in the 85th Division. Most of them were assigned to that regiment. Doesn’t matter. July 23, they were sent overseas. Now, to get there, they had to leave. Obviously, time to take the train, get to the port of embarkation, do their out processing, and get on the boat. So, again, not a lot of time for training left there. They go across the ocean. They go to England first.

One regiment gets stripped off. The rest go to France. And, by mid to late August, most of the men were sent to combat units as replacements. Saint-Mihiel starts September 12. So, I figure, just rough– And I don’t know exactly– but about six weeks of training– That’s probably being generous– Of effective training before these men were dressed like this to– When they were dressed like the captain here and had a uniform on and a rifle in their hands and were facing Germans. So, that’s not a lot. And so, you wonder about that, you know, picture yourself, not even as a foreign-born person, but as a person that you are now. And you’re thrust into this and you’re separated from your friends, ’cause they all got farmed out, and now you’re in with the guys who have already established a unit cohesion. And here comes a guy– Now I gotta look after this guy who can barely speak English or whatever? So, that’s gotta be a very uncomfortable thing.

I think that probably lends to the high casualty rate in those men. I think this warrants further examination. How am I doing here? Ok. I’ll go through just a Victory Medal. It’s a poor picture. I apologize. That’s a Victory Medal. And then, everybody who served in the military during the war was awarded that. And then you got little clasps for any type of battle or whatever you were in. They had designated official campaigns. The most was this Frank Conforti, 101st Engineer Regiment in the 26th Division. And he earned four there, as you can see. Other medals. I don’t wanna get into the history of the Silver Star citation, but, basically, if you were cited for bravery or what have you, that entitled you to put a little silver star on your ribbon for that other medal I just showed you. Later, in 1932, they developed the Silver Star Medal, which people are probably more familiar with. It’s the third highest award for gallantry. That enabled those people that had the little silver star to apply and receive the big medal. So, two people were cited in my study for bravery.

And a bunch, because they were wounded– Not taking away from their bravery, but they were cited because of their wounding. And then, too, because of bravery. Then men in the 1st and 3rd Division got the Army of Occupation of Germany Medal. There’s an example of award cards. And you can see it’s cited for bravery in action in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Both of those men actually received it for that. And this man, on the lower right here, Muto, was wounded and he was cited. So, he received two awards, which means he got an Oak Leaf Cluster. That is probably not of interest as trivia, but there you have it. And then, of course, the Purple Heart that most of us are familiar with for wounds and also for being gassed. From reading, my experience is probably anybody who served any amount of time on the front lines had to be exposed to gas to some degree. But, anyway, if you were officially reported as that, then you were able to get a wound chevron, which you wore on your lower right sleeve. And I include this just to show the gentleman on the right. I don’t know if you can see it. On his left sleeve, he’s got a chevron for six months service overseas. And a wounds chevron on the right sleeve. I include this because it came from a scrapbook of one of the men in my study. And it said something like, “My buddies in the service.” I just got a feeling that some of these are these guys that were drafted all in May.

I’m hoping that maybe I can find out, one of these days, the names of these gentlemen, but I like the picture anyway. Return from overseas. One November guy was the guy that came back early. Or didn’t make it. And the other one was a man who was wounded. Those last batch are men that served in the Army of Occupation. In general, those are the last guys that returned. Discharge. Those first three there were for physical reasons. It was before the end of the war. The first guy was also the first guy drafted. Just happened to be. And he had rheumatism and he was let out early. The other two: one was undersized, which should have been caught earlier. And the other one had another physical impairment. But, there, you see right after, in December and January, war is over. A lot of the stateside guys were discharged. Get those out right away before you start bringing everybody else home. Reenlistments.

I only found three. One guy reenlisted in World War II. He served for, as you can see, just a short time. I don’t know anything about that other than those basic. And this is one of the statement of service cards, an example of what you can get. If you’re researching Wisconsin veterans, please go see those guys. That’s what you can get. This one happened to be dark. I don’t know why it came out that way, but, on the bottom, it says he was released for reenlistment. Just show that as an example of some of the documents. Okay, some people here. I’ll try to get through this here. That’s Private Morelli. He was wounded and taken prisoner. He’s the only one that I’ve found that’s taken prisoner. He was released, as you can see, a month after the armistice. So, he probably took a while to make his way back. And there’s a good story here, but I can’t find it. So, I’m still looking.

I’m still looking. But I have a nice picture of Eugenio. Angelo Biscardi, now this is interesting. He also came to the United States for a while, then went back to Italy, got drafted in the Italian Army in 1915, right when Italy declared war on Germany. He’s wounded, very badly wounded in Italy. Is discharged early. Comes back to the United States. Goes to Kenosha, gets drafted in the United States Army. So, off he goes and he’s very badly wounded, as you can– Let me see if I can read the– Bayonet wound, right side. Shell wound, right eye. And then something else, which I’m not sure. BEF, usually stands for British Expeditionary Force. I don’t know what that means, ’cause he wasn’t in that. But, anyway, you can see that must be a horrific– That’s in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. So, that’s a very horrific experience that he had. So then he gets home. He’s discharged. There’s a newspaper article where I got that little photograph from his grandniece, newspaper article.

And it says he’s looking for work. He’s unemployed, out of work. He’s in Chicago looking for work. And it says his wife and child have just died of influenza. So, you can see this is not a happy story. And it doesn’t get any better. Because, in March 1920, just a little bit after the war, he died of accidental asphyxiation of illuminating gas. I have to think about this man’s life and I wonder if it was accidental. Now, we understand more post-traumatic stress disorder. And the things that this man went through, being terribly wounded twice. One thing said he was divorced. Another said his wife and child died of influenza. Either one is not a pleasant situation. Out of work, looking for work. So, anyway, that’s one of the stories I uncovered. There’s another man, Joe Covelli. He was very badly wounded in Meuse-Argonne Offensive, also. All these guys went over, by the way, as replacements.

These people I’m covering. He was shot in the back of the neck. The shot entered the back of the neck and emerged near the right angle of the mandible. Bayonet wound in the right forearm. Two machine gun bullets in the legs. Here he is after the war. He looks pretty good with some friends. Navy, here’s one of the Navy guys. I put this up here because this man enlisted. He was a tailor in civilian life. He was recruited as a tailor, special duty as a tailor. And he went to Great Lakes Naval Station and worked as a tailor. I found two other men from the same village, but they lived in Chicago. One man, if you look at his service record, it says he’s five foot four and weighed 180 pounds and it said obesity waived for special duty as tailor. Another man was undersized and it says undersized waived for special duty as tailor. So, these men were recruited specifically to be a tailor, to be tailors. And here’s a little resume of the man who has died of wounds. Again, you can see– The point, here, to this that I’m showing, look at the disruptive moving continually.

Drafted, sent to someplace else, Camp Custer, Michigan to Camp Gordon just a few days later. Put all these different units. Finally gets to Company I, 23rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd Division, a very tough combat unit. I think they lost the most out of anybody in the war. That division. And he was engaged in those battles there. Somewhere along the line, he was badly wounded. I suspect in was in the Meuse-Argonne. They were heavily engaged November 1st through 11. And then he died after the armistice. And there’s his final resting place in the Saint-Mihiel American Cemetery in France. Thank for your attention. (applause)

– Hello. Captain Brian Faltinson, the historian of the Wisconsin National Guard. And have been the historian of the Guard for nine years. But, in the civilian life, because we have civilian lives in the Guard, I’m a cultural resource management historian. I write National Register of Historic Place nominations and do environmental assessments. Do the historic building portion and environmental impact assessment. So, I research and write history every day. And kind of got interested in Guard history through the civilian job. As I had to do a study of National Guard armories in Illinois and Wisconsin. And I just learned about the community aspect of the Guard in the cities spread all throughout those respective states. And then, in my Guard role, I am now doing this here for about eight months. I saw the connections of building the 32nd Division for World War I and that community aspect that I studied later when the armories emerged after the war and during the Great Depression and then that era. So, that’s where I come from with this. So, let’s get started. “Physically, this is the finest body of soldiers I have ever seen,” pronounced Colonel Ian Jones in September 1917 at the Wisconsin Military Reservation near Camp Douglas, Wisconsin.

Jones was a regular Army officer assigned to muster 15,000 Wisconsin National Guardsmen into federal service for World War I. These troops, by October, would be in Camp MacArthur, Texas with 8,000 Michigan troops to begin training as the 32nd Division. One of 17 National Guard divisions that would become the backbone of the American Expeditionary Force. In France, the 32nd would establish a record of service that would take a backseat to no other element in the AEF. A year earlier, the Wisconsin Guard had only about 5,000 people and they were stationed near San Antonio for the Mexican Border Crisis. And, by February 1917, these guardsmen had returned to Wisconsin and, within a month, they knew that they would again be called to active service if the US entered the war. So, how did the Wisconsin National Guard, in the course of the spring and summer of 1917, essentially triple its ranks with volunteers who all met the military requirements for service and report to Camp MacArthur with uniforms and basic equipment ready to train to become one of the most respected divisions in World War I? Beyond the larger societal elements that moved our nation to mobilize its will to enter the European War and build the American Expeditionary Force, the answer is the ingrained tradition that is unique from any other military branch of service in our country of the National Guard citizen soldier who is fully supported by his family and the community. These are volunteers who are willing to serve both their state and nation in their respective times of need. As alluded to earlier, I’m currently working on a two-year project called Dawn of the Red Arrow where we are commemorating the 100th anniversary of the formation of the 32nd Division and these 15,0000 National Guardsmen who were part of that organization.

What we actually consider World War I to be the birth of the modern Wisconsin Guard. That’s where it fully embraced its dual role of first military responder, here in the United States, for domestic emergencies. And then to be the primary combat reserve of the US Military. Okay, when I was researching this project at the National Archives, I met Matthew Margus. He’s a historian who had just completed his dissertation called, “America’s Progressive Army: How the National Guard Grew Out of Progressive Era Reforms.” He talks broadly about how those reforms impacted the National Guard. But, when he speaks of individual guardsmen, Margus states that such service was a venue for people to actively express civic minded and patriotic virtues in a way that transcended many class and ethnic differences. Guardsmen were volunteers from the community who publicly committed themselves to service to their community, state, and nation. The Wisconsin State Militia yielded, at the turn of the 20th century, into the Wisconsin National Guard and its dual mission of service to state and nation. Far more professional and organized than the earlier militia, individual units located in cities across the state now received assistance from the government in the form of pay and some limited equipment.

And these guardsmen now attended weekly drills with pay and two-week annual encampments. However, these duties required compromises and arrangements with their family and their employers. State and federal funding still didn’t maintain a unit. And community support was vital to a National Guard unit. Events at the local armory were a funding source and these events were ingrained in the local social scene. At this time, the local community was the only recruiting base and was the home of unit leadership. Successful units were integrated into the community fabric, while those without such support would simply disappear. The Wisconsin National Guard in 1917 was a truly hometown organization. In March 1917, the Guard consisted primarily of three infantry regiments spread in about 30 cities in the state. The peacetime strength of these units were about 85 men. That’s all there is money for. And, when it became known that the Guard would mobilize before the war, the adjutant general ordered each company to recruit to its wartime strength of 150 men. The task of recruiting these men was not a federal responsibility. And, at the state level, the state legislature had authorized some funding for some equipment and put people on orders to do recruiting. But the task of recruiting volunteers who were guaranteed to go to war would fall directly on the individual units located across the state of Wisconsin. These units immediately stepped up recruiting efforts to expand their ranks. Guardsmen were put on orders and prowled the streets. Talking to every potential soldier they could find.

Units trained publicly and invited the community to attend their training. Civic leaders in the Wisconsin Defense League, within the framework of the public conversation of the era, encouraged people to join the local Guard unit. Newspapers publicized local businesses who matched the pay difference between civilian and military pay. Established units also used the impending draft to its advantage. Simply, National Guard soldiers were exempt from the draft. Although it was a given that these Guard units would mobilize and these soldiers would go to war, the ability to serve and avoid the stigma of the draft held a certain appeal for many people. The Guard offered an opportunity for people to be proactive about their military service. Established units, like Sheboygan’s Company C, 2nd Wisconsin Infantry made the draft issue a central theme of its recruiting efforts. A highly-rated unit with service in the Spanish-American War and Mexican Border Crisis, Company C was well respected in Sheboygan under the command of Captain Paul Schmidt who had joined the unit in 1899 as a private and became its commander in 1915.

The unit drilled in Sheboygan’s downtown Turner Hall. And its military balls and other events were a major element of the Sheboygan social scene. When Schmidt and his men returned from Texas in February 1917, the Sheboygan Press reported that 15,000 residents lined the streets to welcome the unit home. Within a month of that return, Schmidt had recruited his unit to wartime strength. Company C recruiting officer and the Sheboygan Press appealed to the potential draftees by emphasizing the company’s record of excellence earned on the Mexican Border. Said Lieutenant William Jensen, “Do not wait until Uncle Sam takes you by the shoulder and says, ‘Young man, I am going to take you, for your country needs you.’ When you have the opportunity of enlisting in an organization that has made a name for itself.” Company C also recruited smaller nearby towns and other established units followed the same practice. Groups of five, 10, and 20 would enlist in the nearby unit and form their own squad and platoon. Meanwhile, these local towns would support their volunteer guardsmen with money for uniforms, a place to train, and other expenses. Even with every existing Wisconsin National Guard unit fully recruited to its wartime strength, that was not enough to meet the quota that the War Department had put on Wisconsin for 15,000 guardsmen.

More units were needed and they had to be built from scratch. Efforts to create a fourth regiment started even before war was declared. These efforts percolated from the bottom up within the communities themselves. In March, a group of 57 men, mostly enrolled in the state normal school in Stevens Point, petitioned the adjutant general for admission into the Guard as a cavalry troop. Adjutant General Orlando Holway sent a doctor to conduct physical examinations and an officer to administer the oath of office to these new soldiers. Scott Carey, a former Iowa National Guardsman, contacted the governor directly on how to organize Platteville’s first National Guard unit. He soon found 200 men who could pass the physical and Platteville became home of Company I, 4th Wisconsin Regiment. The story played out across the state and the Wisconsin National Guard, once it filled the 4th Regiment, started two more. By the time the Guard departed for Camp Douglas in August, it totaled 15,000 troops from units located in 72 Wisconsin cities.

Recruiting these men was only half the story of how Wisconsin put all of these guardsmen into the 32nd Division. Camp MacArthur, Texas was a training base. It was not a recruiting depot. Before they arrived, these guardsmen had to meet the requirements of federal service. They had to have central things complete, like physicals, immunizations, and the issue of uniforms and equipment. Adjutant General Holway ensured that the new troops recruited met the basic physical standard and other criteria so as few as possible would be rejected by Army mustering officers. Local newspaper articles detailed the number of applicants for the local unit accepted or rejected. Scott Carey’s unit of 200 Platteville guardsmen was culled from a cohort of 300. This is not to say that the enterprising recruit or the willing commander found ways around the rules.

John Haddock of Milwaukee, he enlisted in Company F, 5th Wisconsin Infantry as a 16 year old. He essentially reported to the armory, told them he was 17, talked to the lieutenant. The lieutenant said he needed to be 18, come back next week. And then, when he came back next week, he essentially told him he was 18. And the lieutenant winked his eye and signed him up. These troops also needed equipment and that’s its own ordeal. And the equipping of tens of thousands of troops, always a tremendous undertaking for the US. And not without problems. There are ample anecdotes across the country of men in civilian clothes training with wooden rifles, because there’s no equipment for them.

Wisconsin did not wait for such items to arrive from the federal government and contracted directly with local suppliers. Also, local communities, as mentioned earlier, raised funds to provide uniforms and defray expenses. When units left Camp Douglas for Texas, virtually all of its troops carried a basic load of equipment to the train station. A Private Hank N. Anderson in Company D in Black River Falls described in detail his kit and all the equipment in it. And he said, when loaded up and with his rifle, it weighed 78 pounds. Recruiting and preparing these 15,000 guardsmen for active service in six months was a tremendous task. And one that would have been impossible without a triad of support from guardsmens’ families, communities, and employers. Those committed to the citizen soldier concept volunteered with full knowledge that they would be going to war. Communities rallied to support their local National Guard unit with all manner of assistance.

And numerous businesses supported, financially, their employees who joined. Then, the adjutant general finished the job by ensuring that these troops were as prepared as his organization could make them by obtaining the resources needed to train and equip these men for federal service. In closing, the heart of the National Guard from its earliest days has been the support and commitment by the community of its local National Guard unit. Perhaps most visible public display of this support, which is still carried on to this day, is the city gathering to see its National Guard unit go off to war or deploy. The Wisconsin National Guard left its home armories in August. These units marched to a train destined for the Wisconsin Military Reservation where Colonel Jones waited to muster this finest body of men into federal service. Hundreds, if not thousands, in each community lined the streets to wave goodbye to their fathers, sons, brothers, grandsons, and friends.

For these communities, World War I moved one step closer to reality. In Fond du Lac, the local newspaper reported, “‘Please will you let me see them go by?’ begged an old lady as she sought to elbow her way through the ranks of the spectators. ‘I’ve got a grandson who is going.’ Instantly, the men and women stepped aside and gave the boy’s grandmother a front position. Many people in the crowd were affected by the display. One man wiped a tear from his eyes as the old lady feebly waved her handkerchief to a soldierly-looking lad who smiled back at her.” Thank you. (applause)

– So, it’s a slight change of topic now. Let’s talk about beer. About a month after the war had broken out in Europe in 1914, the American Brewer, and this is the first brewing trade journal, which was founded by Germans in 1868, reported on the effects of the war upon the American brewing industry. The editorial predicted, and rightfully so, smaller sales and a war tax. And yet, the author optimistically prophesized that domestic beer would now actually profit, because foreign beers were no longer imported. Moreover, the author contended that the Prohibitionists would now, quote, “For a time, at least, withhold an attack which would so materially weaken the country’s financial prospects.” How could the leading brewing trade journal be so wrong in its assessment? This question is the focal point of my presentation today.

As World War I triggered a historical and concerted movement to eradicate everything German from America. This would be the German language, German music, essentially everything that could be traced to a German origin. As such, the breweries, which were disproportionately owned and operated by Germans, around World War I, now in the second and third generation, they became a prime target. As scholars have rightly pointed out, national Prohibition enhanced the destruction of the fourth largest industry in the United States cannot be reduced to an anti-ethnic, anti-urban, or anti-capitalist sentiment. Rather, it’s the combination of all of them. And yet, with the founding of the Anti-Saloon League in 1893, the Temperance Movement had already gained a decidedly nationalistic and racial subtext. And, when World War I broke out, the ASL, the Anti-Saloon League, seized the opportunity. So, I, briefly, would like to give you an overview of the brewing industry up until World War I. And then I will focus on the propaganda on both sides, the ASL and the brewers.

As German immigrants flocked into the United States, especially during the second half of the 19th century, they transformed the American brewing industry and triggered what I call the lager beer revolution. By 1880, 80.5% of the brewers were of German descent who mostly settled in the Eastern, Western, and Midwestern states. And the latter subsequently became known as America’s German belt. So, it’s not a coincidence that the Midwest gradually developed into a brewing powerhouse comparable to the brewing centers on the East Coast, such as New York and Philadelphia. So, what you see here is the top seven urban brewing centers in 1890. Not in terms of the number of breweries, but in terms of the production. So, at the top, we see New York, but then it’s followed by Chicago, Saint Louis, and Milwaukee. Wisconsin quickly rose to one of the leading brewing centers and, as we all know, Milwaukee became the state’s beer capital with the rise of the city’s beer barons, such as Pabst, Blatz, and Miller. All were of German descent.

And all were closely connected through kinship and marriages. And, up until Prohibition, all these Wisconsin brewers actually ranked in the nation’s top 10. Over decades, German Americans, and especially the brewers, had been considered an esteemed part of US society. We heard this this morning in the first panel on Wisconsin history. But, during World War I, their public image changed remarkably from proud and respected entrepreneurs to mercenary enemies of the states. And Wisconsin, with its high population of Germans and, again, we heard it this morning, an outspoken senator against the war, Wisconsin turned into one of the prime sides of the conflict. The Temperance Movement had come a long way from promoting moderation and sobriety to total absence of all alcoholic beverages. In Wisconsin, the first Temperance Society was founded in 1835. But it was not until the end of the century when the Anti-Saloon League finally unified the movement and turned it into the most powerful reform lobby in US history.

Before the war, the League’s tactics had already shifted from winning local options in rural districts to supporting the enactment of a federal constitutional amendment. Finally, World War I gave the ASL an overriding theme to the economic, medical, social, and moral arguments. And that was the most powerful of all. It was patriotism. The alcohol industry was not only producing immorality, crime, poverty, and ill health. By wasting food, coal, and petrol, brewers were sabotaging the war effort. In fact, every bushel of grain used for beer served the Kaiser. The brewers were, quote, “The Kaiser’s American forces plotting secretly to undermine the nation.” As one of the pamphlets distributed here in Wisconsin explained, quote, “The submarines are sinking eight million bushels of grain a year. The breweries are destroying 70 million.” John Strange, papermaker and former lieutenant governor of Wisconsin, put it very bluntly in a very famous quote.

“We have German enemies in this country, too. And the worst of all our German enemies, the most treacherous, the most menacing, are Pabst, Schlitz, Blatz, and Miller.” Gustav Pabst actually sued Strange for defamation, but he lost because Strange argued that he had not attacked Pabst personally. To German Americans, Prohibition was more than a mere political issue. It was a symbol of cultural conflict threatening their lifestyle and value system. In contrast, the ASL argued that it was not about personal, but about civil liberty. It was about loyalty towards the flag and not the keg. Drinking beer was an expression of German identity and, thus, unpatriotic. It turned people into, quote, “the Hun of the day, “producing barbarism and killing democratic ideals.” Ultimately, a propaganda war between the ASL and brewers broke out. However, already prior to World War I, the latter was at a grave disadvantage.

The brewers could not appeal on moral or religious grounds, as the ASL could. Moreover, the brewers had a hard time counteracting the impression that they were solely concerned about protecting their investments. Overall, it seemed that the brewers could only react, rather than act on their own terms. And, when they campaigned as openly as the ASL, they were in trouble, as investigations in Texas and Pennsylvania and by the federal government attest. In 1918, the brewers in the national organization, the United States Brewers Association, found themselves faced with charges of secretly loaning Arthur Brisbane, a prominent national newspaperman, money to buy the Washington Times in DC in order to control the outcome of elections and to spread pro-German propaganda. 15 brewers were charged. Among them, Joseph Uihlein, Edward Landsberg, Gustav Pabst, and Frederick Miller. Unfortunately, right now, I do not have time to get into the details of the congressional hearings. But, in the end, evidence actually linked nobody to anything.

The brewers that used the newspaper simply to fight Prohibition, just like the ASL, was using newspaper outlets. Yet, it seemed headlines sufficed. “Enemy Propaganda Backed by Brewers,” ran a headline in the New York Times in November 1918. To many, here was the direct link between German treachery and American brewers. So, if the brewers could not campaign as openly as the ASL, what could they actually do? In general, the standard narrative of studies on the brewing industry conclude that the brewers were too slow in organizing pressure to counter Prohibition. That they were too unprepared and too unalarmed. And overconfidence was certainly one of the reasons why the brewers failed to save their business. For instance, at the National Convention of the United States Brewers Association in 1917, its president, Gustav Pabst, warned his fellow brewers of the dangers of Prohibition. Quote, “Gentlemen, these are war times in our industry, “as well as in the world at large.” And yet, he remained very optimistic.

If he read the signs right, people were getting tired of the arrogance of the Prohibitionists. If the United States Brewers Association put the right facts before the people, the brewing industry would get a fair trial. Well, the brewers never got a fair trial. But overconfidence is only half the story. As it turns out, the brewers were not as unprepared as some studies suggest. Beginning in the 1870s, the brewers actually developed a public relations network. Subsidizing newspapers to print favorable articles and lobbying to more legal changes in their favor. A local example, in 1872, they successfully killed the Graham Law in Wisconsin, which held tavern owners responsible for selling liquor to known drunks. Moreover, between 1909 and 1920, the yearbooks of the United States Brewers Association devoted more pages to local, state, and national Prohibition forces than on any other topic in that period.

During World War I, the most obvious strategy of the brewers was to prove their unwavering patriotism. For example, a half page ad by the Educational Publicity Department of the Manufacturers and Dealers Association ran as follows. “In many publications referring to this matter, the word German is applied to the word brewer. And there is continued and persistent effort to create in the minds of readers the impression that the brewers are, as a class, unpatriotic. The attempt to create and foster this impression is to give birth to and nourish what is a malicious and cowardly lie. More than 95% of all the brewers in the United States are American-born. And, in a very large proportion of cases, their parents were American-born. What money they have has been made in American business and invested in America. We are not making this appeal on behalf of our property or our product, but as American citizens appealing to you to help protect the good name of ourselves and our families.” Over and over again, brewers publicly pledged their unqualified support in any measure that helped the war.

Even if that meant producing beer with a reduced alcoholic content of 2.75%. They became one of the largest purchasers of Liberty Bonds. For example, the brewers of Milwaukee and the employees bought two million worth of Liberty Bonds. And they were not getting tired of pointing out, just as their ancestors had fought in the Civil War, now their sons were fighting in Europe. Moreover, the brewers turned the patriotic argument made by the Prohibitionists upside down. Prohibition, they argued, was not a war, but an anti-war measure. Because it divided the nation at a time when it should be unified. And it actually diverted vast sums of money to propaganda which were needed in support of the war. In fact, Prohibition was un-American, because it established a central control, “characteristic of a Teutonic autocracy in an imperial nation.” Not the brewers, but the Prohibitionists were, “the public enemy pushing for tyrannical legislation to enslave the American people.” However, their pleas mostly fell on deaf ears.

And, arguably, it was the brewers’ very own marketing strategies of the previous decades that, at least in part, caused the eventual downfall. Since the 19th century, the brewers had capitalized on their ethnicity. In their advertising, they had constantly referred back to Germany and to their German roots. After all, Germany was, arguably is, the beer drinking nation. To sell their beer, the brewers used German symbols and brand names. Such as Heidelberg or Edelbrau and beer gardens as expressions of the German way of Gemutlichkeit, of sociability and of family friendliness. The beer gardens stood in sharp contrast to the saloons associated with manhood, crime, and corruption. Containing, “neither bench nor chair. “Just drink your schnapps and then go,” as one German from Milwaukee complained.

But these beer gardens, they served several functions. They were a piece of home. They served the function as community centers for German Americans and the public at large. And as ways to promote beer as a temperance drink. As a natural and healthy product to be consumed outdoors with the whole family. For instance, as the ASL was winning several local option cases around the country by the early 1910s, Dr. Max Henius– He was a Danish American biochemist and a co-founder of the American Academy of Brewing in Chicago– made an urgent appeal in the Western Brewer– another trade journal– to abandon the saloon and replace it with, “a refreshment room and beer hall as a place of public resort without the obnoxious features of the average saloon.” Yet, using a beer hall and its association with German Gemutlichkeit was no longer an option during World War I. Moreover, due to intra-industry tensions, the majority of brewers was not willing to give up the saloon. In Milwaukee, the brewers worked out a compromise and developed the so-called Wisconsin Idea of vigilance committees to clean up or close disreputable establishments. But all these efforts were made too late or at the wrong time.

On January 16, 1919, Congress ratified the 18th Amendment. So, in closing, the following can be stated. World War I triggered the downfall of the brewing industry. Some states were already dry by 1914. But the push to garner enough states to pass national Prohibition might not have been so quickly realized had it not been for the war at home. While the Temperance Movement aimed at several immigrant groups other than the Germans– We have the whiskey drinking Irish or the wine drinking Italians. It was successful because of the growing anti-German sentiment. And the brewers either failed to pursue any method vigorously or simply could not pursue the method at all because of its association with Germanness. World War I and Prohibition brought an end to Wisconsin’s German high-cultural period.

However, I really want to finish on an upbeat note. The current craft beer movement has not only sparked a new interest in old style beers, but also in German-style beer gardens. So, for example, a couple of years back, the Estabrook Beer Garden opened in Milwaukee. And, on its home page, refers to the German Gemutlichkeit. So, it seems that, after all, German Gemutlichkeit prevails. Thank you. (applause)