Categories
Soldiering The Green Machine Useful Shit Well I thought it was neat!

It’s Time for Another Louisiana Maneuvers

Back in 1941, the Army did something extreme: it tested its doctrine. Not on tabletop wargames, not in a computer simulation, not with an invasion of a small Latin American country. No, the Army mobilized over 400,000 Regular and National Guard troops, spent a year training them up, and then let them fight each other across 30,000 square miles of Louisiana and Texas in an exercise that would make Jade Helm conspiracy theorists slaver with delight.
Why? Well, it was no secret that World War II would not remain a European affair much longer. The Germans had demonstrated that they had a pretty decent war machine, the likes of which the threadbare U.S. Army could only stare at longingly. The Army had been cut pretty badly after World War I. Pretty badly is an understatement. The Army had been gutted. From a wartime strength of several million men, it was reduced down below 80,000 by 1921. However, Army leaders had been smart; they knew that the next time war came, they would need adaptive and educated leaders. So the officers and non-commissioned officers that they could not retain were shifted over into the National Guard where they helped train up the nation’s reserve. The Army began service schools and professional development courses, open to both Regular and National Guard leaders. Although the Army would not be right-sized for the next conflict, or properly equipped with modern equipment at the outset, it would have a ready cadre of trained and adaptive leaders.
In 1940, the Army began preparing for possible entrance into World War II. Chief of Staff George C. Marshall – arguably one of the smartest men to ever wear pinks and greens – wanted to try something new: to take the latest doctrine and technology and actually try it out in force-on-force maneuvers between field armies of U.S. troops. He wanted to try it all, from armored tactics to air strikes to mechanized infantry. In essence, he wanted the largest NTC rotation the world had ever seen. And since this was back in the day when the Army still owned air power, it didn’t even need to be a joint operation.

220px-Lesley_McNair
General McNair dares you to call him Lesley (U.S.Army photo)

General Lesley – yes, Lesley – McNair was chosen to be the Chief of Staff for General Headquarters (GHQ), U.S. Army. McNair formulated the training plan that is basically still used to this day: individual soldier tasks are trained first, then small unit training, and lastly a combined arms exercise to validate a unit’s proficiency. Soldiers first learned their basic tasks: land navigation, first aid, physical conditioning, and rifle marksmanship. Officers attended branch service schools. Then the soldiers went to work honing their small unit tasks, before graduating to combined arms field exercises with infantry, field artillery, and engineers. Once this was complete, regiments and brigades took part in four weeks of division training. The grand culmination was the GHQ Maneuvers in Louisiana, with divisions forming corps, and corps, field armies. Which then slugged it out in the woods and swamps with freedom of maneuver.
So what was this new doctrine and technology? Well, there was the tank, for one thing. Sure, it had been around since World War I, but Army doctrine maintained that tanks were there to support the infantry. Tanks would advance behind a rolling artillery barrage and allow the infantry to break through linear enemy defensive positions; shades of Verdun here. The Nazis had demonstrated that tanks could pretty much out-fight any infantry or artillery unit out there, and that, combined with close air support and mechanized infantry, they pretty much dominated the battlefield. There was no independent tank corps in the U.S. Army in 1940. Well, there wasn’t until Colonel George Patton, General Adna Chaffee, and General Bruce Magruder met together in a basement – I kid you not – and decided that America really needed its own armor corps. So they sent their proposal to Marshall, who liked the idea, and ordered the infantry and cavalry to turn over all their tanks to the Armored Force on July 10, 1940. Just like that, the armor branch was born, and with it came a new doctrine that needed to be tested.
And what of the cavalry, those Stetson-wearing sons of a whatnot? Well, one would like to think that they embraced mechanization gracefully. They did not. The cavalry arm was still a primarily horse-fighting organization in 1940, with limited jeeps and motorcycles for reconnaissance. Marshall urged full mechanization, which was strongly resisted by die-hard cavalrymen.

GHQ Maneuvers cavalry.jpg
The cavalry’s compromise: armored cars integrated with horse patrols (U.S. Army Photo)

Another group that was proving irascible to doctrinal change was the Army Air Force. Rather than conforming to Marshall’s view that fighter-bombers should support combined arms operations, the Air Force had embraced strategic bombing with a myopia that was alarming, especially given that there was daily evidence from the Luftwaffe that air-to-ground close air support was a stunning success. The Army Air Force was also being recalcitrant to provide aircraft for the Army’s new 501st Parachute Battalion. Still, the airmen had modernized readily and were at least developing new doctrine, albeit focused on high-altitude bombing. It remained to be seen how this could mesh with ground operations.

c_01-007.jpg
Combined arms in action, Louisiana Maneuvers (U.S. Army Photo)

All of this new training, new doctrine, and new technology would be tested in 1941. GHQ devised whole booklets of complicated rules on how the maneuvers would be run and how casualties would be assessed. Thousands of umpires traveled with units to assess their performance. All units were armed with blanks. Bombs were simulated with bags of flour. There were obvious flaws in the system. For example, any infantry within the vicinity of an enemy tank were ruled to have been wiped out. Conversely, light tanks could be destroyed by a .50 caliber machine gun at a range of 1,000 yards. Still, the maneuvers offered more benefits than drawbacks. Army, corps, division, brigade, and regimental commanders would be moving their forces in real time, experiencing the stress of command and control. Units would get used to the daily routines of combat: supply, movement, patrolling, offense, and defense.
Perhaps the greatest coup that the Army pulled off was to get state and local governments to buy into their plan. The Army leased and obtained trespass rights to 30,000 square miles of land from Shreveport to Lake Charles, and from Jasper, Texas to the Mississippi River. Bolstered by a Congress that finally placed defense spending as a priority, the Army had the land and the money to pull off the largest maneuvers – still the largest to this day – ever conducted in North America. Eighteen Army divisions and ten Air groups – combined Army and Navy – would face off against each other.

7threcontroopfortord.jpg
Motor convoy on the way to Louisiana, 1941 (U.S. Army Photo)

In the late summer of 1941, the long motor columns of troops and equipment swarmed into Louisiana. It was no small feat to organize supply networks for 400,000 men, but Army engineers built roads, railheads, depots, and barracks to accommodate the armies. Massive amounts of military brass and Army civilian leadership arrived as well, all wanting a look at how the modern U.S. Army was going to fight and win. Interestingly, the Harvard Business School even sent observers to see how the Army did logistics.
So what happened? Well, answers to that question varied by who you might ask. To the average grunt, the Louisiana Maneuvers meant more weeks of slogging through swamps and thickets with little to no sleep. To officers, it meant a chance to show their worth. And to senior leadership, it meant confirming or denying doctrinal assumptions. To advocates of armor or anti-tank units, it meant a time to show the worth of their new combat arm. Marshall was succinct: “I want the mistake [made] down in Louisiana, not over in Europe, and the only way to do this thing is to try it out, and if it doesn’t work, find out what we need to make it work.”
Everything kicked off on September 15. The Red Army received orders to invade the Blue Army’s territory. The orders were concise and basic: invade, seize key territory, and destroy the enemy. It was left up to army and corps commanders to devise the plan, and to division and brigade commanders to execute the plan. The Red Army had a secret weapon: George Patton and his tanks. But the Blue Army had a secret weapon of their own: their chief of staff was Colonel Dwight D. Eisenhower.

300px-Eisenhower_Krueger.jpg
Baby-faced Ike, third from left, 1941 (U.S. Army Photo)

Things kicked off with predictable uncertainty. Commanders struggled with fording rivers and gaining air superiority. Rates of march by supposedly “slow” infantry units were accelerated when they were loaded into the trucks from the artillery and quartermaster corps. Eisenhower’s planning abilities showed as he fought a fluid and developing battle, while his opposite number tried to stick with the original plan for the Red Army. Adding to the chaos was a live airdrop of Company A, 502nd Parachute Battalion, which went on a daylong rampage, even raiding the Red Army’s headquarters before they were all “killed.” Red tanks fell victim to Blue anti-tank units at every turn, as they failed to support their armor with infantry. The “battle” ended on September 18, with a Blue Army victory. Both sides learned valuable lessons: battle was fluid and plans had to change as the situation did; air superiority was more valuable than anyone could have ever expected; armor had to have infantry support; and mobile anti-tank units were a must in every division. With these lessons in hand, Phase 2 of the Louisiana Maneuvers began.
GHQ Phase I.png
The whole battle opened with one of the most ridiculous and fantastic episodes of combat engineering ever. With the Blue Army attacking, the Red Army’s engineers “blew up” every single bridge on their front. They even sent suicide squads to float down rivers inside the Blue Army’s lines and blow up bridges behind Blue forces. They placed over 900 obstacles in the Blue Army’s path, slowing their advance. When Blue engineers went out to repair bridges, special strike groups from the Red Army would hit them, force Blue troops to deploy for battle, and then retreat. Still, Blue Army, which greatly outnumbered the Reds, slowly advanced. Red Army pulled back again, creating a distance of forty-five miles – forty-five miles of blown bridges, cratered roads, and hundreds of more obstacles. The Red Army eventually halted to fight a defense. This was a mistake; when the maneuver had reset, Blue Army had gained Patton and his armor. Eisenhower planned a daring combined arms assault, sending Patton on an end run through Texas. Patton’s relatively small force drove twenty-four hours straight – Patton purchased fuel from local sources when he outran his supply lines – and appeared unexpectedly on the Red flank. For the duration of the battle, Patton’s force ran roughshod over Blue forces. However, the maneuvers ended before history would ever find out if Patton’s small force could have succeeded or if he would have been wiped out. One thing is sure: the partnership of Eisenhower and Patton made for a deadly combination.

749_Scan_Pic0340.jpg
Armor crossing a river in Louisiana,  over an engineer pontoon bridge (U.S. Army Photo)

The GHQ Maneuvers of 1941 would continue into the fall, now in the Carolinas. In the interim, the Army began removing or replacing commanders who were either too old or too ineffectual for wartime service. The maneuvers gave concrete evidence for the need for innovative, adaptive, and thinking leaders. Younger officers who showed promise were given more responsibility. The Army was setting the cast of characters who would run the show in World War II.
There were many takeaways. The Maneuvers warmed the Army Air Force to the idea of air-to-ground integration. And ground commanders became acutely aware of what could happen if they persisted in moving in thick columns along the roads in the daytime. The Army learned that infantry and armor units needed to work together, but also that “end runs” of fast moving armor could pay off in huge dividends. The horse arm of the cavalry was deemed to be inferior to mechanized troops, something that had been true since 1918, but that the cavalry refused to acknowledge. Division force structure was rearranged to create more combined arms units. Deficiencies in small-unit training and execution were discovered, and remedial programs for retraining developed. The Army implemented infantry and artillery platoon, company/battery, and battalion tests, to ensure proficiency. The focus became a “back to basic” approach, and at not a moment too soon: four days after McNair and Marshall delivered the Army’s assessment of the GHQ Maneuvers to Congress, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and the U.S. entered World War II. It is no exaggeration to say that the GHQ Maneuvers of 1941 built the Army’s doctrine and force structure for World War II.

KY Maneuvers phot5220a.jpg
Cities and towns in the south became battlegrounds in 1941. Surprisingly few residents issued claims for damaged property after the Maneuvers (U.S. Army Photo)

Fast forward to today. The Army is emerging from two low-intensity wars fought against unconventional forces and is refocusing to be able to counter a conventional threat. New technology, from unmanned vehicles to weapons to targeting systems, is rife across the Army. A new “battlefield” has emerged in the cyber realm. Doctrine has just been updated and new training doctrine is on the way. New relationships between Active, National Guard, and Reserve units are in the works, with a return to the “Roundout Brigade” concept. Combat units are now open to women. In short, the Army is undergoing dramatic changes as it shifts to meet conventional aggressors.
It is time for another GHQ Maneuvers.
As Marshall pointed out, it is better to see deficiencies in training than it is to see dead soldiers in combat. Have current corps and division commanders have ever led their forces as part of a conventional force-on-force engagement? Have brigade combat team commanders maneuvered their elements alongside like-sized brigades? Can the Army show that it is prepared to fight on land, air, and in cyberspace against a near-peer force? The answer to all of this is, “no.” Sure, combined arms exercises at NTC and JRTC serve to validate units’ readiness at lower levels, but moving beyond more than one or two brigades brings a complexity the type of which we have not seen in decades. Our leaders and soldiers are proficient at low-intensity warfare, from experience, but we lack the depth that comes from a massive exercise or actual conflict.
The time to do this is now.

Categories
All About Guns Soldiering The Green Machine The Horror! This great Nation & Its People War Well I thought it was neat!

All the while when somebody else is doing their utmost to KILL you!

Categories
Ammo Well I thought it was neat!

So that's how it looks when you get hit by a REAL cannon ball! (OUCH!!!)


Yep, that’s gonna leave a mark alright! Grumpy

Categories
Born again Cynic! Well I thought it was neat!

I am still waiting for mine since 1958!


I still remember from the 1960’s and the predictions of about how life would be in the 21st Century. I am sure that God is still laughing about them! Grumpy

Categories
Well I thought it was neat!

Well I thought its NEAT!

Categories
Dear Grumpy Advice on Teaching in Today's Classroom Good News for a change! Hard Nosed Folks Both Good & Bad Leadership of the highest kind War Well I thought it was neat!

LESSONS IN LEADERSHIP: From a Janitor

By Colonel James E. Moschgat, Commander of the 12th Operations Group, 12th Flying Training Wing, Randolph Air Force Base, Texas

William “Bill” Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure, one you could easily overlook  during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy.  Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor.
While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory.  Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, “G’morning!” in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties.
Why?  Perhaps it was because of the way he did his job-he always kept the squadron area spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed.  Frankly, he did his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved.  After all, cleaning toilets was his job, not ours.  Maybe it was is physical appearance that made him disappear into the background.  Bill didn’t move very quickly and, in fact, you could say he even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury.  His gray hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young cadets.  And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny.  Face it, Bill was an old man working in a young person’s world.  What did he have to offer us on a personal level?
Finally, maybe it was Mr. Crawford’s personality that rendered him almost invisible to the young people around him.  Bill was shy, almost painfully so.  He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that didn’t happen very often.  Our janitor always buried himself in his work, moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze.  If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard to tell.  So, for whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became just another fixture around the squadron.  The Academy, one of our nation’s premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till dusk.  And Mr. Crawford…well, he was just a janitor.
That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976.  I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story.  On September 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. The words on the page leapt out at me: “in the face of intense and overwhelming hostile fire … with no regard for personal safety …  on his own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy positions.” It continued, “for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the United States …”
“Holy cow,” I said to my roommate, “you’re not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner.” We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn’t keep my friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being.  Nonetheless, we couldn’t wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday.  We met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in question from the book, anticipation and doubt in our faces.  He starred at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered something like, “Yep, that’s me.”
Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked at one another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor.  Almost at once we both stuttered, “Why didn’t you ever tell us about it?”  He slowly replied after some thought,   “That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago.”
I guess we were all at a loss for words after that.  We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to.  However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same around our squadron.  Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we had a hero in our midst-Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal!  Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Crawford.”
Those who had before left a mess for the “janitor” to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order.  Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions.  He’d show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin.
Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates.  Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look closely to notice the difference.  After that fall day in 1976, he seemed to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn’t seem to be as stooped, he met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger “good morning” in return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often.  The squadron gleamed as always, but everyone now seemed to notice it more.  Bill even got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn’t happen often at the Academy.  While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became Bill’s cadets and his squadron.
As often happens in life, events sweep us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on graduation day in June 1977.  As I walked out of the squadron for the last time, he shook my hand and simply said, “Good luck, young man.”  With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed.  Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor winners living in a small town.
A wise person once said, “It’s not life that’s important, but those you meet along the way that make the difference.” Bill was one who made a difference for me.  While I haven’t seen Mr.  Crawford in over twenty years, he’d probably be surprised to know I think of him often.  Bill Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership lessons.  Here are ten I’d like to share with you.

  1. Be Cautious of Labels.  Labels you place on people may define your relationship to them and bound their potential.  Sadly, and for a long time, we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more.  Therefore, be cautious of a leader who callously says, “Hey, he’s just an Airman.”  Likewise, don’t tolerate the O-1, who says, “I can’t do that, I’m just a lieutenant.”
  2. Everyone Deserves Respect.  Because we hung the “janitor” label on Mr. Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked among us, and was a part of our team.
  3. Courtesy Makes a Difference.  Be courteous to all around you, regardless of rank or  position.  Military customs, as well as common courtesies, help bond a team.  When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned from perfunctory “hellos” to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and personality outwardly changed.  It made a difference for all of us.
  4. Take Time to Know Your People.  Life in the military is hectic, but that’s no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with.  For years a hero walked among us at the Academy and we never knew it.  Who are the heroes that walk in your midst?
  5. Anyone Can Be a Hero.  Mr. Crawford certainly didn’t fit anyone’s standard definition of a hero.  Moreover, he was just a private on the day he won his Medal.  Don’t sell your people short, for any one of them may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls.  On the other hand, it’s easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down, but don’t ignore the rest of the team.  Today’s rookie could and should be tomorrow’s superstar.
  6. Leaders Should Be Humble.  Most modern day heroes and some leaders are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your “hero meter” on today’s athletic fields.  End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement are what we’ve come to expect from sports greats.  Not Mr. Crawford-he was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be well-served to do the same.
  7. Life Won’t Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve.  We in the military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right?  However, sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don’t come your way. Perhaps you weren’t nominated for junior officer or airman of the quarter as you thought you should – don’t let that stop you.
  8. Don’t pursue glory; pursue excellence.  Private Bill Crawford didn’t pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living. No job is beneath a Leader.  If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your dignity?  Think about it.
  9. Pursue Excellence.  No matter what task life hands you, do it well. Dr. Martin Luther King  said, “If life makes you a street sweeper, be the best street sweeper you can be.” Mr. Crawford modeled that philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home.
  10. Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a leadership laboratory.  Those you meet everyday will teach you enduring lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen.  I spent four years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of books, and met thousands of great people.  I gleaned leadership skills from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught.  Don’t miss your opportunity to learn.

Bill Crawford was a janitor.  However, he was also a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero.  Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons.
Dale Pyeatt, Executive Director of the National Guard Association of Texas, comments:  And now, for the “rest of the story”:  Pvt William John Crawford was a platoon scout for 3rd Platoon of Company L 1 42nd Regiment 36th Division (Texas National Guard) and won the Medal Of Honor for his actions on Hill 424, just 4 days after the invasion at Salerno.
On Hill 424, Pvt Crawford took out 3 enemy machine guns before darkness fell, halting the platoon’s advance.  Pvt Crawford could not be found and was assumed dead.  The request for his MOH was quickly approved.  Major General Terry Allen presented the posthumous MOH to Bill Crawford’s father, George, on 11 May 1944 in Camp (now Fort) Carson, near Pueblo.  Nearly two months after that, it was learned that Pvt Crawford was alive in a POW camp in Germany.  During his captivity, a German guard clubbed him with his rifle.  Bill overpowered him, took the rifle away, and beat the guard unconscious.  A German doctor’s testimony saved him from severe punishment, perhaps death.  To stay ahead of the advancing Russian army, the prisoners were marched 500 miles in 52 days in the middle of the German winter, subsisting on one potato a day.  An allied tank column liberated the camp in the spring of 1945, and Pvt Crawford took his first hot shower in 18 months on VE Day. Pvt Crawford stayed in the army before retiring as a MSG and becoming a janitor.  In 1984, President Ronald Reagan officially presented the MOH to Bill Crawford.
William Crawford passed away in 2000.  He is the only U.S. Army veteran and sole Medal of Honor winner to be buried in the cemetery of the U.S. Air Force Academy.

Categories
Allies Dear Grumpy Advice on Teaching in Today's Classroom Good News for a change! Hard Nosed Folks Both Good & Bad Soldiering Well I thought it was neat!

Something for the History Teachers out there – Mad Jack Churchill: A Life Too Unbelievable For Fiction

Categories
Well I thought it was neat!

Fortress of the Sea – The American Dreadnaught (1968)

Categories
Well I thought it was neat!

This sure brought back a lot of Memories for me! Best of Coyote und Roadrunner – Cartoon

https://youtu.be/3pTFYBL96ZY
Yeah I know this is suppose to be a Gun Blog. But I just could not resist posting my favorite Cartoon of yesteryear! Grumpy

Categories
All About Guns The Green Machine War Well I thought it was neat!

The “Trench Gun” of WWI from The American Rifleman

The Great War was notable for the carnage that resulted when 19th-century military tactics were pitted against 20th-century infantry arms—such as machine guns, poison gas and flame throwers—which were used by all belligerent nations. There was, however, one infantry arm employed in the war that was uniquely American: the shotgun.

Although shotguns had been used by individuals in the U.S. military for over 100 years, the guns were generally privately owned arms. After the Civil War, a few shotguns were again employed during the so-called “Indian Wars.” The U.S. Army procured a relatively small number of shotguns for “foraging” use, but some privately owned shotguns also saw action during that period. The use of shotguns for deadly serious purposes was well-ingrained in the American psyche as aptly related in a 1920s article published in Harper’s Pictorial:

The John Browning designed Winchester Model 1897 shotgun was first adopted by the U.S. military circa 1900.

The John Browning designed Winchester Model 1897 shotgun was first adopted by the U.S. military circa 1900.

“… [The shotgun] is not a new man-killing arrangement. For years, the sawed-off shotgun has been the favorite weapon of the American ­really out gunning for the other fellow or expecting the other fellow to come a-gunning for him.”

Despite the well-known effectiveness of shotguns for certain situations, the first procurement of shotguns specifically for combat use by the U.S. military did not occur until the dawn of the 20th century. Circa 1900, the U.S. Army purchased an estimated 200 Winchester Model of 1897 slide- action repeating shotguns for use in the on-going “pacification” campaigns in the Philippine Islands following the Spanish-American War of 1898.

The addition of the ventilated top handguard and the bayonet lug are what sets the “trench” guns apart from riot guns.

The addition of the ventilated top handguard and the bayonet lug are what sets the “trench” guns apart from riot guns.

There was a clear need for an arm to help battle the fierce Moro tribesmen, who were exacting a deadly toll on American troops in close-quarters combat. It was recognized that a short-barreled, 12-ga. shotgun loaded with 00 buckshot was the most formidable tool available for such applications. These “sawed off” shotguns soon proved their mettle and were used with notable effectiveness in the Philippines.

When the United States entered World War I in the spring of 1917, General John Pershing and the U.S. Army General Staff were determined not to repeat the same mistakes that were made by both sides during the previous three years of the war. As stated in an American Rifleman article published after the war:

Most were marked with “US” and the ordnance “flaming bomb."

Most were marked with “US” and the ordnance “flaming bomb.”

“When the A.E.F. began to take over portions of the front lines it brought with it General Pershing’s predetermined decision to break up the enemy’s use of its trenches as take-off points for such assaults, to destroy such attacking ‘shock troops’ as they came on, and so to compel the open-ground warfare for which Europeans had little liking but which was wholly in the character of the American spirit and in which it was foreseen the latter would give an extremely effective account of themselves.”

The new tactics that were to be employed by the American “Doughboys” required new arms. Many of the senior officers of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF), including Gen. Pershing, had pre­viously served in the Philippines and had first-hand knowledge of the ­effectiveness of the shotgun. It was soon recognized that they possessed much potential for both offensive and defensive trench warfare.

The U.S. Army Ordnance Department was ordered to evaluate which shotgun would best suit the needs of the American troops deploying to France. The consensus was that the Winchester Model 1897 would be the logical choice. The Model 1897, later designated the “M97,” was a reliable gun that had been around for some 20 years and had acquitted itself well in the Philippines.

Remington Model 10 “Trench” Gun

Remington Model 10 “Trench” Gun

The variant of the Model 1897 selected by the Ordnance Department had a solid frame (non-takedown) with a riot-length (20”) cylinder bore barrel. The gun had a total capacity of six rounds (five in the magazine and one in the chamber) and lacked a disconnector. This meant that it could be fired by holding down the trigger while rapidly manipulating the slide, which resulted in a high rate of fire when used in that manner.

While a 20”-barreled Model 1897 shotgun could be obtained literally “off the shelf” from Winchester, the Ordnance Department stipulated that the new combat shotgun must be capable of mounting a bayonet. Although that may appear to have been a simple requirement, it posed some vexing problems. While the typical rifle barrel was small enough in diameter to permit it to fit inside a bayonet guard ring, the large diameter of a 12-ga. shotgun’s bore precluded that method of attachment. The problem was solved by the use of an offset bracket attached to the end of the barrel for attachment of the bayonet.

Remington Model 10 “Riot” Gun

Remington Model 10 “Riot” Gun

Another problem to overcome was the fact that a shotgun’s barrel would become extremely hot after firing only a few rounds. Since it would be impossible to effectively wield a bayonet without being able to firmly grasp the barrel, some form of protection was required. A ventilated metal handguard was designed that allowed air circulation between the guard and barrel and permitted a bare hand to control a hot barrel. Springfield Armory worked in conjunction with Winchester on the design of a handguard/bayonet adapter assembly. In a relatively short period of time, the proposed new combat shotgun was officially adopted.

The new arm, soon dubbed the “trench gun,” was given the ordnance code designation number “G-9778-S.” The guns were typically hand-stamped with a “US” and “flaming bomb” marking on the right sides of the receivers in front of the ejection ports to signify acceptance by the U.S. Army Ordnance Department.

Winchester Model 1897 “Riot” Gun

Winchester Model 1897 “Riot” Gun

The new “trench gun” was designed to be used with the M1917 “U.S. Enfield” rifle bayonet, presumably because there were larger numbers on hand as compared to the M1905 bayonet used with the M1903 Springfield rifle. The fact that Winchester was also making the M1917 bayonet at that time may also have played a role in its selection. The new trench gun was fitted with sling swivels that permitted the use of standard service rifle slings, primarily the leather M1907 sling. The guns were initially issued with commercial-production paper-case 00 buckshot ammunition.

As shotguns were not previously in the Army’s Tables of Organization and Equipment (TO&E), limited numbers were issued to selected infantry units in France for preliminary field testing and evaluation. An Ordnance Department memo dated June 8, 1918, stated:

“… 1,000 shotguns, referred to herewith, together with ammunition are now available in Depots in France … . Instructions are requested regarding the issue and distribution of these weapons. It is suggested that they may prove a most valuable arm for the use of raiding parties, and that a practical test be made in the 26th and 42nd Divisions, and that full information be furnished this office within 30 days, showing the difficulties experienced in maintenance, the susceptibility to jam under trench conditions, and the effectiveness of the weapon. Fifty guns should be issued to each Division mentioned above, with 100 rounds of ammunition per gun … .”

Winchester Model 1897 “Trench” Gun

Winchester Model 1897 “Trench” Gun

Other divisions that were issued trench guns during the war included the 5th, 26th, 32nd, 35th, 42nd, 77th and 82nd. Most of the reports from the units that were issued trench guns for preliminary testing were positive in nature. Typical responses included: “It is the general opinion of those who have used shotguns that they are effective weapons for scouting and patrolling purposes. Col. H.J. Hunt, Sixth Infantry,” and “Shotguns in this regiment have given very satisfactory results. Their effectiveness at short ranges, on raids and patrols makes them a most desirable weapon, and I would recommend that they be adopted. Captain H.P. Blanks, 61st Infantry.”

The most common complaints against shotguns pertained to the propensity of the paper-cased ammunition to become wet in the muddy trench environment, which could cause the shells to swell and become unusable. The lack of belts or pouches to carry the shells was also cited as a problem in several reports. This was discussed in a post-World War I American Rifleman article:

“[I]n the trenches the cartons (of shotgun shells) were set on the long shelf under the parapet … and the doughboys would put a couple of handfuls in their breeches pockets, just as they were accustomed to ‘at home on the farm.’”

This painting of U.S. Marines in France during the September 1918 St. Mihiel offensive depicts a Gunnery Sergeant of the 6th Marine Regiment armed with a Winchester Model 1897 “trench” gun.

This painting of U.S. Marines in France during the September 1918 St. Mihiel offensive depicts a Gunnery Sergeant of the 6th Marine Regiment armed with a Winchester Model 1897 “trench” gun.

Canvas looped shotshell belts were considered for use with the guns but were not the optimum method of carrying shotgun shells in the constantly damp and muddy trenches. A canvas pouch with internal loops (holding 32 rounds) and a shoulder sling was designed and procured to carry trench gun ammunition, but few were likely sent overseas before the Armistice.

Since the major culprit was the paper-cased shells, all-brass 00 buckshot ammunition was ordered. Such ammunition would be less susceptible to moisture and could better withstand the battering from constant loading and unloading of the guns. Some of the all-brass buckshot ammunition of that era was characterized by an unusual “saw tooth” crimp.

U.S. Ordnance Department records indicate that Winchester delivered 19,196 Model 1897 trench guns to the government during the First World War. It is likely that several thousand more guns were procured from wholesalers and jobbers for conversion to trench guns during that period, and, perhaps, as many as 25,000 M1897 trench guns were eventually manufactured during the war. World War I Winchester Model 1897 trench guns were serially numbered in three “blocks”: E433144-E474130; E514382-E566857; and E613303-E697066.

Magazine tubes of the 3,500 Remington Model 10 trench guns obtained by the government during the war bear ordnance markings.

Magazine tubes of the 3,500 Remington Model 10 trench guns obtained by the government during the war bear ordnance markings.

These blocks were obtained from ordnance documents and reports, and some slight variance on either side of the ranges may be expected. Most of World War I M1897 trench guns were in the third block of serial numbers.

In order to augment the supply of combat shotguns, the Ordnance Department contracted with the Remington Arms Co. for a trench gun variant of its Model 10 12-ga. shotgun. The Model 10 was a hammerless slide-action repeater that loaded and ejected from a port in the bottom of the receiver. Rather than utilizing the metal handguard/bayonet adapter assembly of the Winchester Model 1897 trench gun, the Remington Model 10 trench gun was designed with a metal bayonet adapter that clamped on the end of the barrel and a separate wooden handguard. The Model 10 adapter was also designed for use with the M1917 bayonet, which was also manufactured by Remington during that period.

The Model 10 trench gun had a 231⁄2” barrel and was fitted with sling swivels. The guns were stamped with a “US” and “flaming bomb” insignia on the left sides of the receivers. Remington delivered 3,500 Model 10 trench guns to the government during World War I. The serial number range of World War I military Model 10 trench guns was 128000-166000. Again, this is an approximate range and some slight variance on either side is possible.

The receivers of Remington Model 10 trench guns were marked with “US” and the “flaming bomb” insignia on their left sides.

The receivers of Remington Model 10 trench guns were marked with “US” and the “flaming bomb” insignia on their left sides.

In addition to the trench guns, the Ordnance Department purchased a quantity of Winchester Model 1897 and Remington Model 10 “riot guns.” These differed from the trench guns in that they were not fitted with bayonet adapter/handguard assemblies and did not have sling swivels. While some combat use cannot be ruled out, the riot guns were primarily intended to be utilized for guarding prisoners and similar duties.

As increasing numbers of the trench guns began to be deployed to the front-line trenches, their effectiveness became apparent. There were numerous references to the efficiency of the shotguns.

A post-war American Rifleman article contained the following statement regarding a U.S. Army officer: “[H]is men had one good chance with them (shotguns) at a German mass assault upon his trench—a charge obviously intended to overwhelm the defenders with its solid rush of men. (They) let them come on; and when those shotguns got going—with nine .34 caliber buckshot per load, 6 loads in the gun, 200-odd men firing, plenty more shells at hand—the front ranks of the assault simply piled up on top of one awful heap of buckshot-drilled men.”

Unlike the familiar ventilated, stamped steel top handguard of the Model 1897 (above), the Remington Model 10 trench gun (top) used a wooden handguard as well as its own pattern of bayonet lug to accept the U.S. Model 1917 bayonet.

Unlike the familiar ventilated, stamped steel top handguard of the Model 1897 (above), the Remington Model 10 trench gun (top) used a wooden handguard as well as its own pattern of bayonet lug to accept the U.S. Model 1917 bayonet.

Laurence Stallings related the following in his classic book, The Doughboys: “[A] Chicago sergeant, undergoing much hostile fire to reach a concrete pillbox, made his entrance through the stage door of the pestiferous machine-gun nest bearing a sawed-off shotgun. Two buckshot blasts and the twenty-three performers left on their feet surrendered.”

The shotgun’s effectiveness did not go unnoticed by the German government, which viewed the use of shotguns as a serious breach of international rules of warfare and lodged an official protest on September 14, 1918. The Germans sent a telegram to U.S. Secretary of State Robert Lansing, which stated, in part: “The German Government protests against the use of shotguns by the American Army and calls attention to the fact that, according to the laws of war, every prisoner found to have in his possession such guns or ammunition belonging thereto forfeits his life.”

The Germans were referring to a passage in the Hague Decrees, ­predecessor of the Geneva Convention, which stated, “It is especially forbidden to employ arms, projections, or material calculated to cause unnecessary suffering.” The Kaiser’s minions also sought to exploit the issue for propaganda purposes, and several German newspapers wrote scathing editorials against this “barbaric” weapon.

Paper-hulled shotshells didn’t react well to wet conditions in the trenches, so brass shotshells were adopted—as were specialized pouches to carry them in combat.

Paper-hulled shotshells didn’t react well to wet conditions in the trenches, so brass shotshells were adopted—as were specialized pouches to carry them in combat.

For example, the Cologne Gazette opined that “… tommy-hawks and scalping knives would soon make their appearance on the American front … ,” and stated that “… Americans are not honorable warriors.” The Weser Zeitung newspaper was of the opinion that “… the barbarous shotguns have not been served out because they are likely to be effective but because the ill-trained Americans cannot use rifles and are badly supplied with machine guns.” It is reported that some of our Doughboys were rather amused by these editorial rants!

The United States government’s response to the German threat was swift and to the point. Secretary Lansing firmly replied that the use of shotguns was most assuredly not prohibited by the Hague Decrees or any other international treaty. He also made it known that if the Germans carried out their threats in even a “single instance” the American government knew what to do in the way of reprisals and stated that “notice is hereby given of the intention to make such reprisals.”

As correctly summed up in an American Rifleman article after the war: “Uncle Sam did not intend to have his trench-gunners massacred simply because he had given them a weapon which even the pick of the Prussian ‘shock troops’ dreaded more than anything that four years of war had called on them to face.”

Remington and Winchester used similar methods to attach bayonets to their World War I-issue trench guns. This design drawing shows the mechanism for attaching bayonets to Winchester trench guns.

Remington and Winchester used similar methods to attach bayonets to their World War I-issue trench guns. This design drawing shows the mechanism for attaching bayonets to Winchester trench guns.

Apparently, the American response had the desired effect as there is no indication that the Germans ever executed any Doughboys for possessing a shotgun or shotgun shells. It is perplexing as to why the Germans, who introduced and regularly used poison gas and flamethrowers, were so incensed about our use of shotguns. It is probable that the enemy actually feared the American behind the shotgun as much as the shotgun itself.

The United States considered the matter closed and continued to send trench guns to France as fast as production and shipping permitted. As stated in a publication after the war: “The shotguns went right on at their business—so terrible a success that message after message from G.H.Q. to America begged: ‘Give us more shotguns!’”

In addition to use in trench warfare and for guarding prisoners, some shotguns were reportedly employed in front-line positions in an attempt to deflect incoming German grenades. Some have questioned whether this actually occurred, but a number of World War I and post-World War I accounts confirm this practice.

Attaching bayonets on the Remington trench gun involved a similar mechanism to that of the Winchester shotgun, as seen above.

Attaching bayonets on the Remington trench gun involved a similar mechanism to that of the Winchester shotgun, as seen above.

A post-war American Rifleman article stated: “An interesting if amazing purpose which these guns (trench guns) were supposed to serve was that of shooting from the trenches, a la trapshooting, at hand-grenades, ‘potato mashers,’ and the like thrown over by the enemy, with a view to knocking such missiles back, to fall and explode ­outside the parapet. The procedure was taught and practiced at training camps during the war, using dummy Mills bombs as the aerial targets.”

Due to extensive use prior to World War II, original World War I Winchester and Remington trench guns are scarce today and are coveted by martial arms collectors. All World War I-era ­shotguns were originally blued, and any Parkerized examples have been refinished, possibly as part of a later arsenal overhaul.

A number of 1918 vintage M1897 trench guns may be encountered today without martial markings. The most logical explanation for such guns is that they were purchased by the government during World War I but the war ended before the guns could be issued, thus they were not stamped with the “US” and “flaming bomb” markings.

The popularity of shotguns is not restricted to collectors. Modern combat shotguns are in front-line use by American troops today—just as they were in the trenches of France more than 100 years ago. The shotgun is still a uniquely American combat arm. In certain combat applications, it is a fearsome arm with unquestioned effectiveness, just as the Kaiser’s troops first discovered in 1918 “in the trenches.”