Shrouded in darkness, the soldiers of the 35th Division waited in tense anticipation.
Before them lay Vauquois Heights on the Hindenburg Line, guarded by battle-hardened German soldiers sheltered behind rolls of barbed-wire and concealed within a honeycomb of concrete fortifications.
Beyond that lay heavily fortified Charpentry and Cheppy (deemed by the French Army to be unassailable). The ground over which they were to advance was a moonscape ravaged by four years of some of the most horrific warfare in recorded history, with every inch guarded by a network of machine guns backed up by heavy artillery that commanded the high ground of the Argonne.
The night air of September 26, 1918, was suddenly filled with the sound of an immense allied bombardment from 2,600 guns, which shook the very ground on which they stood. At 5:30 a.m. the order came and the men of the 35th (made up primarily of young Missouri National Guard troops) poured out of their trenches.
They advanced quickly, shrouded by a dense fog that had appeared over the battlefield (attributed by the commanding general to the hand of Providence). In less than an hour, they had taken Vauquois Heights and were pressing on, but German resistance stiffened and they began to take heavy casualties.
With remarkable courage, these soldiers slogged on through barbed wire, murderous machine gun fire and the blasts of large artillery rounds. Over the next six days, they managed to take their objectives (aided in part by the daring courage of a young artillery spotter named Harry S. Truman, who called in accurate fire on German gun emplacements), but the cost was tremendous. More than 4,500 Missourians had been wounded and 675 were killed (this 40 percent casualty rate was reportedly the highest of any American division in the war).
Back home in Missouri, the new State Capitol was under construction (the former Capitol having been destroyed by fire). A young French painter was commissioned to decorate the building with a painting depicting the exploits of brave Missourians involved in World War I. When he petitioned the French military for permission to use one of their aerodromes to create the immense painting (stretching 50 feet long by 20 feet high), he was asked who the work was for. When told, the general replied, “it will cost you nothing, for we remember the Missouri Thirty-fifth who broke the Hindenburg line where we had spent four years and forty thousand men. . . . Only you must put into the faces of those boys the courage that carried them through.”
