This is Wednesday 15th August 1917 and the first American troops to arrive in the UK march through the streets of London, here they are marching across Westminster Bridge en route to Waterloo Station. Here is how the Times newspaper reported the event the following day.
"OLD GLORY” IN LONDON.
AMERICAN TROOPS WELCOMED.
MARCH PAST THE KING.
Yesterday morning Londoners had one of their few chances to cheer and wax enthusiastic since the war began. American troops marched through the streets behind the flag of the great Republic. For weeks past - indeed, since the United States came into the war - English people have been hearing rumours of the number of troops being sent from the States to the French front. Yesterday they had ocular demonstration enough to convince them of the effort being made on the other side of the Atlantic.
The Censor and our War Office, the American Embassy and the American military authorities decided that it would be better in the interests of all concerned if no very early preliminary announcements were made. Consequently it was not until Tuesday night that Londoners knew that the march was taking place. Even with the short notice given the public, it was evident that the crowds which gathered had come there to express their enthusiasm. To those who have watched London crowds in the past three years of war it was at once plain that, although the gathering was perhaps small in numbers, it was in no way lacking in enthusiasm. The cheering on some parts of the route was continuous and the comments of the crowd would have made any man in the khaki ranks pleased.
From 8.30 a.m. yesterday the troops marched from Waterloo to the Wellington Barracks. At the railway station there were some hundreds of British soldiers going on leave and a few score coming back from France. It was there that the Americans got their first noisy welcome. The Tommies cheered in British fashion, and the Americans, standing easy, responded with the sort of cheer that one hears from the Big League crowds when the White Sox have “put it over“ the Giants. Every nation cheers in its own way, but in the cheers of both nations at Waterloo there was the same enthusiasm.
At Wellington Barracks Colonel Lassiter, the Military Attaché of the American Embassy, was present to welcome the units as they arrived. With him were Lord Derby, Lieutenant-General Sir Francis Lloyd, and a number of officers of the Guards’ Brigade. There was a tremendous crowd here from 9 o’clock onwards, and the railings of the parade ground were packed with people eager to make the men from the United States feel at home, and incidentally to beg a souvenir or two from them in the shape of a button or a badge. At 11.30 a.m. the troops left the barracks to the tune of “The Boston Tea Party,” surely a strange air to be played before troops in the streets of London, but still a most appropriate one.
THE MEN THEMSELVES.
The men were admired all along the route. They were a remarkably uniform lot, and their physique was splendid. All of them are volunteers, and most of them are men who have been working with their hands in the West, and they are necessarily as fit as an open-air rigorous life can make them. They marched with a free step, much like the Colonial troops, and they showed that they had learnt their drill. Hardly a. man or woman in the crowd realized that nearly all of these men were civilians six weeks ago. But such is the fact, and it is good to let it be known. After a month and a half of drilling these men marched as well as many of our permanent battalions. The slope of their rifles was uniform, and they never seemed to tire or grow slack. And it was a tiring march, even though it was not a long one, for the streets were hot, and the men were up very early in the morning to entrain for the City.
The Americans wear the hat that has been made familiar to us by the New Zealand forces a felt hat with a straight brim and pinched crown. Each unit of the American Army wears a different cord round the crown, with two tassels hanging on the brim in front.
The men carried waterproof capes slung in their belts behind. Instead of puttees they wore canvas leggings laced in front. These are particularly useful for every class of service. On the Mexican border they were found to be cool and comfortable. In France they will be every bit as useful, for they do not collect as much mud as puttees, and are easily washed.
The sergeants, many of them with medal ribbons telling of their service in Mexico, the Philippines, or China, all wore automatic pistols hung handily on the right hip. Their chevrons denoting rank are reversed and the “ Vs “ of the stripes point upwards. There was at least one man from the New York police in the non-commissioned ranks, and perhaps a patrolman or two from Chicago. Many of the men have come fresh from the West.
It is just about now that the annual migration of the "hoboe" takes place. He leaves New York for the winter, often travelling on the undercarriage of a freight wagon until he reaches a town far enough west, and warm enough climatically, to attract him. Here he stops off, and works intermittently until the city calls again. This year the “hoboe " will have a much easier time. One of the biggest men in the first contingent to march past, when asked what he was doing two months ago looked a little homesick. “ I was chasin hoboes off the freight cars on the Dallas-Sweetwater stretch in Colorado.“ And in case the uninitiated do not know what a " hoboe ” is, it might be explained that a hoboe is a tramp.
In the watching crowd one was often struck with the frequent comment on the physical appearance of the American troops. They went along with shoulders squared and their eyes to the front. There was no talking in the march, and each man kept the Alinement (sic) of his four splendidly. When, as often happened, the column paused on the route, the men marked time with a precision that would have pleased even a Guards sergeant major. There was one noticeable thing about their appearance, and that was the lack of moustaches. Very few of them had moustaches, and fewer still had beards.
SALUTING "OLD GLORY".
At the head of each contingent there was carried the Stars and Stripes, and It can safely be said the “ Old Glory " has never had such a rousing reception in the streets of London before. As each colour party passed it was saluted by every man among the watching crowds. Civilians doffed their hats, and soldiers saluted rigidly often, too, it was the signal for three cheers. There were many individual examples of enthusiasm, and they were not missed by the marching men. In the Green Park, when the men halted, one of them called to the other, “ Say, did you get the little ‘ bell-hop ‘ looking through the grating in Pell Mell Street ?" The one that was hollerin " Are we downhearted ?" They had all noticed him, and his little tribute was appreciated. As a matter of fact, it was the page-boy of the Automobile Club who had squeezed his head through the grille above the front door and so addressed the crowd beneath and received a rousing answer.
Once in the crowd there came a weird sound that caused all heads to turn in wonder. The American files knew it, and although they could not respond, they smiled as they looked straight to their front, for it was the college yell of Harvard. Yale followed in lesser voice, and ended with a hoarse wheeze. Many of the men in the ranks were engineering graduates, and many of them were athletes. More than one private carrying his rifle in yesterday's parade has stood at the diamond and hit balls that made the out field scatter to the four corners of the ground. Many of them have pitched balls fast enough and curly enough to make the best batsman resume his seat after a bare few seconds with never a base gained. Some of them are runners who have breasted the tape for Pennsylvania, Princeton, Yale, and Harvard. They are all in a bigger game now, where the pace is faster and the stake greater.
The ancestors of many of these men fought in the Civil War and it is certain that the traditions of Gettysburg, Harper’s Ferry, and the Hagerstown Pike will be jealously guarded. There will be many families in the United States in a few years who will be able to point to war records covering three generations.
The column swung past the Nelson Monument, along Pall-mall, and up into Piccadilly, where the crowd was not so dense. Then they marched to the American Embassy, where they passed the Ambassador and Mrs. Page. As each company marched past the men came to the salute, and the movement was acknowledged by Mr. Page. Canadians at the Maple Leaf Club cheered hard and continuously as the procession swung past the Embassy.
AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE.
Perhaps the crowd was thickest and most enthusiastic round Buckingham Palace, where the King, Queen Alexandra, Lord French, and Lieutenant-General Sir Francis Lloyd stood at the saluting base in front of the massed bands of the Guards’ Brigade. As the salute was given by each company in turn the King acknowledged it, and the crowd burst into prolonged cheering. One band played “The Long, Long Trail,“ and the crowd took up the refrain in great voice, helping the strains of the brass with a fine volume of sound. When the Stars and Stripes came past the King and all the military officers at the saluting point paid the proper compliments.
When most of the troops had gone by a motor-car drove into the cleared space in front of the Palace, and the Prime Minister stepped out amidst cheers, and walked briskly across to the King, and stood beside him until the guard of honour had been inspected.
In the Green Park the Americans were given a light luncheon at open-air tables, and many of their countrymen mixed with them and stayed to talk of their homes. The Canadians were especially fraternal in their greetings, for many of them had friends in both forces, and after all it is not a far cry from Medicine Hat to Missouri or from Montreal to Massachusetts. The impression made by the men was undoubtedly a splendid one, and one could not help wondering what the regular battalions of the United States Army in France are like if soldiers of six weeks’ training comported themselves as well as these. The whole procession was an excellent argument in favour of our having more of the same sort of thing. Why should not (sic) we see our own men from Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa march through the streets? Yesterday's enthusiasm was sufficient warranty that the London public needs a spectacle like this every little while, and it would be a pretty compliment if it could be arranged. When the bands passed the cheering grew louder than ever, and the pipers of the Irish Guards, in brick-coloured kilt, and with Irish pipes, the stocs decked with emerald ribbons, received a particularly hearty reception. The bands of the Guards, in full strength, were distributed along the column, and they played every appropriate air their bandmasters could think of. The opinion of the average man in the crowd was that "it was a good show, and it was a pity that we did not have more like it".
