The Ragamuffins: An Unlikely Victory

Story by Michael Carl

A piercing, cold December wind blew through the trees as snow again began to fall. The heavy snow was hardly visible through the dense fog that blanketed the rolling hills of the Ardennes. The icy winds battered the bearded countenance of Gideon Wells, forcing him to turn-up the collar of his great coat to shield his face.?

Wells was tough, determined, maybe even a little stubborn, but he had a soft side. Many of his detractors said he was an irascible misfit who would never succeed at anything. He had been in the U. S. Army and had managed to rise to the rank of lieutenant colonel, but was asked “to resign” because of insubordination. On the campaign in Mexico to capture Poncho Villa, Wells had disregarded orders to retreat, and instead commanded his company to attack a Mexican guerrilla camp. The successful attack led to the capture of two guerrilla leaders, but his battalion commander played politics and filed charges against Wells. He had been given an ultimatum: Resign or face a court martial. So he resigned, which allowed him to keep his rank.

Wells may have been hot-tempered and impulsive, but like most leaders, he had a keen analytical mind for military strategy. In his gut, he instinctively knew the war in Europe had the potential to pose a danger to the United States. So, since the army didn’t want him any longer, he organized his own unit and crossed the Atlantic to fight for the allies in Europe.

Wells was surprised at how easy it had been to recruit over 500 men to serve in his ragamuffin band. His men were a mixture of thrill seekers, failed business people, and frontiersmen longing for the life of the old west. Many were barely 18, but most were over 30, cynical, and jaded against life itself. He and his American volunteers had been fighting against the Germans in the Ardennes for over a year. Many were ready to go home, sensing that there was no end of the war in sight.

As he sat on his horse at the edge of the woods, he could hear the thunder of artillery in the distance. Distant at first, the rumbles were drawing nearer and nearer to his troop’s position.

“Do ye hear that boys? It sounds like the Germans are going to assault the French lines again,” Wells told his men.

“The cannon rumbles seem like they’re getting closer. What are we going to do sir?” a nervous young volunteer asked.

“Don’t worry son. I’ve got an idea of what we can do,” Wells assured the young volunteer.

“Jake, you have work to do. I need you to take the men and prepare some solid defensive positions. Right now, I’m going to the French headquarters to try and talk to their CO,” Wells added.

“What do we do if the Germans show up before you get back. You know the French don’t respect us. It’s likely to take a while before they even see you,” Jake Livingston tersely replied.

Jake Livingston was Gideon’s second-in-command, a rough, unrefined, and red-bearded son of Scottish immigrants.

Puffing on his cigar as he spoke, Wells barked-out an order, “Jake, you and the Sergeant Major get the men organized into solid defensive positions. If the French general agrees, we’ll need those positions ready by tomorrow evening.”

Much like the others, Sergeant Major Clinton Lee was a career adventurer. He too had a past that he would only speak about briefly, without allowing too much detail to slip out. The only thing that Wells really knew about Lee was that he was from Montana and had made the rank of Sergeant Major in the U. S. Army.

“Yes sir!” the Sergeant Major snapped back. Jake agreed, but not with enthusiasm.

Livingston didn’t like the idea of fighting with the French, but it was the only allied army in the Ardennes. The fight in their area of operations had been costly. Wells’ unit had lost 100 men. The only consolation, if there was one to be had, was that since the beginning of the Battle of Verdun, the Germans had lost thousands. Unfortunately, that was also true for the French.?

French Headquarters

The ride seemed to take forever in the snow, his horse had to determinedly slash through several snow drifts. Eventually he came to the French lines.

The French Sentry, sounding shaky and nervous, and in French shouted, “Stop where you are. Who are you and what do you want?”

Wells answered confidently, “I am Lieutenant Colonel Gideon Wells, commander of the American volunteers who have been fighting on the Western Front for over a year. I need to speak to the commanding general.”

Responding to Wells in English with a heavy French accent, the sentry, with obvious relief ordered, “Advance and be recognized.”

Wells moved carefully and deliberately towards the sentry and suddenly saw he was surrounded by French soldiers. He presented what he could to prove his identity.

The on-duty sentry said, “Come with me.”

After a five minute walk, the sentry spoke to the officer outside the tent.?

“Mon general will see you now,” the sentry said.

The headquarters tent had an unpleasant “aura” about it. The mood was somber and even depressed. Wells entered the dimly lit tent, looking around for the French general. As he spotted the general, he noticed that several staff members had been ordered to leave.

This was the first time in his memory that he was unsure of the potential for success in his visit.?

Wells stood, confidently, and finally said, “Bonjour mon general. Comment t'allez vous?"

“Bonjour,” the general said with polite stiffness. “What is your name again?”?

It was clear that the general was annoyed at having to speak with an American adventurer.

Wells replied respectfully, “My name is Lieutenant Colonel Gideon Wells. I am the commander of a unit of Americans who volunteered to fight on the side of the allies. My men and I have been fighting the German Army on the Western Front for about a year now.”

In a strong French accent, the general replied in English, “So you're the American cowboy I've heard about so often? How come you speak French?”

“My family stayed in France for several years about ten years ago. I learned it then.”

The general suddenly returned to a serious demeanor and snapped, “So what do you want?”

Wells began to explain, “My men and I think we can help your army. Your troops are regularly shelled by the Germans. I have an idea for how we can give the German army a beating—at least along this sector of the front.”

The French general was slightly amused, but curious. “Really? Do you really believe your group of American ruffians can help us? After we've been fighting the Huns for two years now? What can an American cowboy and his rabble do to help the experienced and battle-hardened French army?”

Wells ignored the condescending tone of the general and explained. “What I am proposing to you is a move Daniel Morgan used to beat Cornwallis at the Battle of Cowpens in the American War for Independence. Here's how I know it can work, assuming the Germans are as arrogant as I think they are.”?

Wells looked at the map spread across the table and pointed to their position.?

Wells continued, "Here is our present position. I know you’re painfully aware that the Allies have been fighting this battle since February and it’s been back and forth. My plan may not bring the entire battle to an end, but it will at least give the allies a small victory to report.”

The French General gave Wells a skeptical eye, then said, “Go on.”

Wells, encouraged by the general at least being willing to listen, continued.

“The first thing, for this to work, is that your men need to pull back from your trenches. Do it as it’s getting dark. The Germans may not see your men pull back, but if they make enough noise, the Germans will hear them.”

The French general huffed, but said, “Continuer” anyway.

“If the Germans do as I suspect they will, they’ll move up and occupy the abandoned trenches. Key to this is the fact that your present position is at the bottom of a hill. When they get into the trenches, my men will make a quick, short attack on their new position...”

The general interrupted in disbelief. He was convinced the adventurous American was out of his mind. “Four hundred of you are going to take on two German divisions? Tu es fou! (You’re crazy!)”

“Let me finish,” Wells remarked with agitation. “We’re only going to attack with about 100 men. Now, here’s the part that worked for Morgan. I said the attack would be short. We’ll engage them for about five minutes. Then my 100 men will retreat and run like hell back over the hilltop, hopefully baiting the Germans to pursue them.”

Wells continued, but with more confidence, “Knowing that the Germans have as much respect for us as you and your men do, they’ll be certain we’re a bunch of losers. So, they’ll pursue us believing we’re an easy prey. We get over the hilltop and run down to a strong defensive position where your men and mine will be waiting under cover. Once the Germans get within about 20 or 30 yards, I’ll give the signal and everyone jumps up and opens fire. It will catch them by surprise and they’ll retreat, but not without a lot of casualties.”

Wells continued, “When they do, about 100 of my men on horseback will ride after them in pursuit. We’ll be fast enough to take out a good many of the retreating soldiers.”

Wells continued confidently, “And we need to go by tomorrow evening.”

“C’est impossible! (This is impossible!),” the general replied. “There’s no way we can have two divisions ready to move by tomorrow!”

“Why not? You’ve moved that quickly before,” Wells challenged the general. “Why is it impossible now? You’ve been needing a breakthrough for months. Now’s a good time to give your nation some good news.”

“Very well,” the general reluctantly agreed.?

Preparation

The camp was bustling with activity on Col. Wells’ return. Several trees had been cut down and the logs rolled and stacked into barricades. Several foxholes had been dug. One positive detail about the position was that rocks, dips, shallow draws, and foliage overhangs were plentiful. The location at the foot of the back side of the hill was perfect for the operation.

Wells grabbed a shovel and joined the work as daylight was beginning to fade.?

Later that evening at dinner, as Wells, Livingston, and Sergeant Major Lee sat in the headquarters tent, Wells said, “I am dying to know if our French friends are preparing like they’re supposed to. Their general agreed to this plan, but wasn’t that thrilled with it.”?

Lee remarked, “I’ll bet that if their C.O. wasn’t that agreeable to the plan, then they’ll be lethargic about their preparations. You know? Begrudging compliance?”

“We’ve been fighting here for over a year, often with the French. But I don’t like it; I still don’t trust them,” Livingston said bluntly.?

“Maybe,” Wells replied, “We’ll see. We have to trust them. I just want them out of their trenches and in position over here by the time we attack. Otherwise, we’ll have to delay the operation. And you all know what that means. The longer we wait, the bigger the security risk.”

The next day dawned with another icy wind blowing across the hills. Snow fell lightly but steadily from the battleship grey skies. The surrounding forest was lightly overshadowed by a canopy of fog.

Wells got his men ready and slowly they moved into their defensive positions. Even as they moved into place, one of the volunteers whispered, “Listen.”

“Listen to what?” another volunteer whispered back. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point; it’s way too quiet,” the first man replied.?

Wells, Livingston, and Lee sat on their horses watching the men quietly move into position.?

“Listen,” Livingston whispered. As he whispered, a mass of men emerged from the fog. The French soldiers moved slowly, but deliberately into their positions.

“Well, well, well. Our French friends have finally arrived,” Livingston remarked.

“It’s a good thing,” Wells observed. “Now all we need is for the Germans to notice and begin occupying the French’s former trenches.”

For several hours, two divisions of French soldiers moved into defensive positions along the line that Wells and his men had prepared. Some of the men had worked all night and were exhausted.?

“Jake, tell the men to get some rest for a couple of hours,” Wells said. He looked curiously at the ridge above them, and breathed a heavy sigh. Then he called to the Sergeant Major, “I need to know if the Germans have moved up into the French positions. If they haven’t moved, we’ll have to wait and watch. That will increase our likelihood of being spotted, dug-in here. That will give the Germans an advantage we don’t want them to have. So, send a patrol out to recon the area on the other side of the ridge. I have to know if they’ve moved up or not.”

“Yes sir,” the Sergeant Major Lee replied, offering a salute. Wells nodded and half saluted in response.

It was around midday when the patrol returned with a good report.

“Sir,” Sergeant Bailey reported, “The Germans have noticed the empty trenches and have moved to occupy the former French positions. They’re apparently planning to stay a while because they’ve moved up some of their artillery and military stores.”?

“Some?” Wells inquired.

“Yes sir, some,” Bailey answered. “From the noise coming from their new positions, it sounds a lot like they’re slowly moving up the rest of their equipment.”?

“Okay. Thank you, Sergeant. You guys have done a good job,” Wells said. “Major Livingston!”

Jake ambled over to Wells and said, “Sir?”

“It’ll be dark by 16:30. So we have only four hours of daylight left. We need to attack by around 1500. Send a messenger to French Headquarters informing them that we’re going to attack at 3,” Wells ordered. “Oh, and also let them know that we’ll shoot a flare when it’s time to open fire, assuming the Germans take the bait.”

“Yes sir!” Livingston replied.

“Captain Greene! Get the men ready. We’re going to send our first wave to attack at 1500,” Wells ordered. Captain Clayton Greene, a tall, ruddy man, was former army. What made him valuable was his combat experience. Greene had been with Teddy Roosevelt at San Juan Hill in the Spanish American War.

“Yes sir! The men will be ready sir,” Greene promised. “I’ll make sure they’re mentally ready as well Colonel.”

“I know you will Captain,” came Wells’ reply.

The “morning” fog had lifted even though the snow continued to fall slowly. Wells mumbled to himself, “Good. Now there’s nothing to keep the Germans from seeing our quick retreat.”

The Operation, 1500 Hours

At 3 pm, the Sergeant Major and Livingston gave the signal, and the 100 men given the task of making the short attack slowly moved up the hill. As they neared the top, the Sergeant Major motioned for them to stop and take cover. The first thing he needed to do was to ensure that the Germans were in their expected positions and to see if there were any lookouts. Seeing no sentries posted, Captain Clayton Greene, another of Wells’ military veterans, motioned to the Sergeant Major and the band of 100 moved down the hill. They jumped behind rocks, downed trees, and in the dips on the hillside. As they did, they opened fire.?

The small force had achieved the necessary surprise and caught the Germans off-guard. Their shots were accurate, hitting their intended targets. The coal scuttle-helmeted German troops were stunned and surprised. They hadn’t expected an attack.?

The German commander looked through his field glasses and surveyed the men who were on the attack.

“I don’t believe it! Look!” he shouted, handing the field glasses to his executive officeer.

“Who is that band of ruffians? Wer sind diese M?nner? Wo kommst du her? (Who are these men and where did they come from?) The allies must be desperate to send a bunch of bungling American cowboys to attack!” the X. O. yelled.

“Return fire!”

As the Germans opened fire with rifles and machine guns, a line of tracers hit the ground next to Greene’s feet. Greene quickly took cover behind a rock. A few of the men in Greene’s band were hit, falling to the ground. It was evident that these Germans were hardened veterans. Their aim was excellent and they didn’t often miss their targets. Seeing the number of casualties, Captain Greene blew the whistle signaling retreat. Some of the wounded were still able to move, but a dozen more were left where they fell.

The Executive Officer gasped and managed to blurt out, “Sir, they’re retreating! And after only five minutes!”

The C. O. remarked, with biting sarcasm, “Of course they’re retreating, those amateurs. They saw the number of casualties and they gave up—the cowards. Order the men to fix bayonets. We’re going after them and putting an end to their game! Order an immediate counter attack!”

The X. O. blew the whistle, signaling, “Over the top, and advance.”

The German soldiers did what they had done so many times before in this campaign. They went "over the top," leaping from their newly acquired trenches.

Wells’ men were going over the top of the ridge as the German whistle sounded. Out of breath and sweating, the 100-man team reached the bottom and jumped behind cover.

“Shh, no noise,” Wells told Captain Greene, holding his finger to his lips. Greene held out his arm and motioned downward, signaling for everyone to remain quiet and in place until the signal was given to fire.

The two divisions were out of the trenches and heading up the ridge. As he made his way up the hillside, the German commander remembered from his officer’s training why attacking uphill was often a strategic blunder. The attackers were at a disadvantage. The momentum was most often in the defenders’ favor. So, even though he was confident of their chances against the Americans, he was still wary of what would happen when his men reached the top of the hill.

As the German advance reached the crest, most of the Americans had already taken cover. Seeing that, Wells told Livingston to have some of the men move around from one place to another so the Germans would know they were there and not retreat. More than a dozen men jumped up from behind rocks and trees and out of foxholes and ran to a new place for cover.

The German commander saw the movement and knew his attack was in the attacking in the correct location.?

Upon seeing two divisions of infantry racing down the hillside in their direction, Wells’ men were both impatient and nervous. A soldier whispered, “When are they going to let us open fire?”

“Shh!” another soldier replied. “They’re waiting for them to get close enough so the Germans can’t run away so easily.”?

The German advance came within 20 yards of the American and French positions when Wells set off the flare and yelled, “Now!” At the signal Wells’ men and the two French Divisions opened fire on the Germans. The machine guns cut down line after line of German infantry.

Wells’ men were excellent marksmen, so their shots were on target, firing one shot and taking down one German soldier.

In the French lines, their Chauchat lite machine guns were deadly accurate. German casualties were heavy and the snow was turning a slight shade of pink as the blood began to mix with the brilliant white snow.

Miraculously, the German commander and his executive officer had not been hit. As machine gun tracers flew by his helmet, the C.O. looked across the ridge and saw that it was littered with the bodies of his soldiers. He ordered his attendant to blow the small bugle to sound retreat.

“Sir, that’s the retreat call,” Livingston said. At that Wells climbed into his saddle and gave the signal for his 100 pursuers to mount-up and go after the retreating Germans. Wells and his 99 pursued the Germans up the hillside and ensured their retreat, then he gave the signal to stop and return to their positions.

Captain Greene showed anger as he rode up next to Wells, and angrily asked, “Sir, why did you signal us to stop the pursuit? We could have finished them off! We’re probably going to have to face them again!”

“Captain Greene, you saw the hillside,” Wells stated as he motioned to the body-covered ridge. “I’m no mathematical genius, I am a combat soldier,” Wells continued gesturing to the hillside. "I estimate that there are at least four to five thousand men laying across this hillside. This engagement made the German army pay a high price."?

Wells continued, “I know what you’re thinking, but I saw no reason to continue the slaughter. We would have crossed the line between battle and a massacre. At that point it would have been murder. I don’t want any of my men to return home thinking that they're guilty of participaging in a massacre.”

By this time, Livingston, Bailey, and Lee had made their way to where Gideon Wells and Captain Greene were having their discussion. Greene agreed reluctantly, “Alright, I understand.”

“Gentlemen, I think it’s time to pull back, maybe all the way to Paris for some R and R. The men have earned the time off,” Wells quipped.

Livingston, Bailey, Greene, and Lee all agreed, “Yes sir!” as they gave Wells a casual salute.

Two days later, on December 18, the battle of Verdun came to an end. The French had lost over 150,000 men. The Germans lost slightly over 140,000 men, even though the ten-month battle was a French tactical victory.

The war would go on for another two years, and Wells’ Raggamuffin band would be there until the end.?

Copyright, 2022, Michael Carl