Life’s tol’ably queer. You think you’ve got a grip on it, then you open your hands and you find there’s nothing in them. It doesn’t go in straight lines like bees to their hives or quail from the covey.
—Alvin York
Alvin York’s life completely changed after he “got religion,” and he left church on 1 January 1915 a different man. York’s family, and above all his mother, was elated at his decision to become a Christian.
I found out the truth of what the Bible says: “There is more rejoicing over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety-nine just persons that need no repentance.” I truly felt as though I had been borned again. I felt that great power which the Bible talks about and which all sinners feel when they have found salvation, I felt in my soul like the stormy waters must have felt when the Master said, “Peace, be still.” I used to walk out in the night under the stars and kinder linger on the hillside, and I sorter wanted to put my arms around them-there hills. They were at peace and so was the world and so was I.1
Of the neighbors, Pastor Rosier C. Pile was perhaps the happiest. He had watched Alvin’s fall into sinful living and felt helpless to get him on the straight and narrow. But once Alvin made his decision to serve the Lord, Pastor Pile took the responsibility to mentor and disciple him in the ways of the faith.2 To help him grow as a Christian, Pastor Pile involved Alvin in the church fellowship, helped him to study the Bible, and encouraged him to pray for victory over his personal sins. This trinity of prayer, Bible study, and fellowship under the mentorship of Pastor Pile was central to Alvin’s newfound faith. He embraced the idea that it was not enough to “get saved,” but that it also was necessary to demonstrate his faith with works that furthered the Gospel. In just a few months Alvin was transformed from a drunkard, brawler, and malcontent to a leader in the church, a Sunday school teacher, a choir leader, and a respected man in the community.
Yet Alvin found old habits difficult to break. He had developed a taste for alcohol and smoking, and he missed the thrill of fighting, cussing, and gambling. When the weekends came, the temptation to go back to his old ways was intense. “Sometimes Everett or Marion or some of the other boys would drop around and tell me they were putting on another party and invite me to join them. Then it was that I was most sorely tempted. I prayed most awful hard and got a good hold on myself and didn’t go.” Alvin did not give into temptation and found that “each time I refused, it was so much easier next time; and every day it became easier. In a few months I got them there bad things out of my mind.”3
This time of struggle with personal sins was arguably the most significant point of his life. Standing against peer pressure and choosing to do the right thing built moral courage in Alvin’s life.4 Looking back, he summed up the struggle: “And that is the greatest victory I ever won. It’s much harder to whip yourself than to whip the other fellow, I’m a-telling you, and I ought to know because I done both. It was much harder for me to win the great victory over myself than to win it over those German machine guns in the Argonne Forest. And I was able to do it because … God … showed me the light, and I done followed it.”5
It was commonplace in York’s day to think of character as a moral muscle that became stronger with exercise.6 In this view, every time Alvin chose to do what was right, he developed additional character and moral courage. Using this line of reasoning, the courageous pattern in his private life allowed him to accomplish unimaginable feats in the heat of battle as an outward manifestation of his inward courage.7
About a year into his new faith, Alvin was concerned by the hypocrisy he saw in the church. The problem was his former weekend partymates. York’s unrepentant friends attended Sunday worship services, but then did not hesitate to get drunk on moonshine after church. York was not interested in bringing judgment upon them, but rather in finding a church where the congregation took seriously what the Bible said about Christian living. About this time Pastor Pile hosted a revival service led by circuit preachers from the Church of Christ in Christian Union (CCCU).
The CCCU was a Protestant denomination formed during the American Civil War and based in Ohio and Indiana. The founders sought to lead Christians away from divisive social and religious disputes and back to the Bible. Their concern was that the politicization of the pulpit over slavery as well as the heated and often counterproductive theological Arminian-Calvinist debate of free will versus election had no place in the church and that instead members ought to live their lives in goodwill toward their fellow man. To join this denomination, people had to make a public confession of Jesus Christ and accept the Bible as the inerrant Word of God. The key tenet of the CCCU that would have a cascading effect upon Alvin was its lack of formal church doctrine. The denomination upheld a literal interpretation and application of the Bible. Therefore, when the Bible said, “Thou shalt not kill,” that was it as far as the CCCU believed—a Christian could not kill for any reason.8
The simple nature of the CCCU and its “Sola Scriptura” Bible basics appealed to Pastor Pile. At the end of the revival, a CCCU congregation was established in Pall Mall, with Rosier Pile being elected to serve as its leader. In 1916, Pile oversaw the construction of a church facility on the north side of Pall Mall.9 Alvin followed Pastor Pile’s lead and also joined this new CCCU congregation, becoming the “second elder,” the assistant pastor of the church. What appealed to Alvin about the CCCU was that it required its members to pursue clean living and therefore would not tolerate open hypocrisy among its members. In York’s words: “A man can’t [gamble, drink, or swear] and belong to our church. He just can’t be a Christian on Sundays. He’s got to live up to it all the time.”10 As the church’s second elder, Alvin “worked harder than ever … read the Bible. … led the singing in the church, and … helped in the Sunday school.”11 To reach the area’s youth, Alvin led Sunday afternoon singing lessons. After singing, the young people would head off for an afternoon swim in the Wolf River or a game of marbles.12 So strong did Alvin grow in his faith that he was called upon to preach sermons when Pastor Pile was absent.13 To Alvin’s delight, the Williams family also joined the CCCU, which gave him opportunities to see Gracie.14
Alvin was falling in love with Gracie Williams. His frequent work in the church brought them together often. “I am a-tellin you there was somethin’ grand about her, the way she talked in that quiet voice of hers that sometimes got shaky, she was that shy, and the way she looked at you with those big blue eyes as though she was jes trying to see inside of you and help you be good. I jes wanted to be near her and talk to her.”15 She enjoyed practicing singing with Alvin after church on Sunday afternoons.16
Now that he was a practicing Christian, Alvin hoped that Mr. Williams would not prevent him from courting Gracie.17 Virgil Pile, one of York’s neighbors, observed, “Frank Williams looked on the young buckaroo’s wildness askance and was inclined to doubt the parlance of his later religious convictions.”18 Mr. Williams’s opposition was rooted in several concerns. First, he wanted to see if Alvin’s newfound faith was enduring. Second, he had doubts that Alvin would be able to provide for a wife. As a hillside “patch” farmer, working the rocky soil, Alvin was barely able care for his mother and siblings. The only way they could overcome this was to augment the income with hunting, blacksmithing, and hiring out for other work. But even this often was not enough to pay the bills. With these concerns Mr. Williams would not allow Alvin to openly court Gracie.19
Her parents were agin me. I couldn’t blame them nohow. But I wasn’t in love with them at that time, I was in love with Gracie, and we managed to steal meetings, and nobody but us knowed much about them nohow. There was a long winding lane between our homes. It was lined with big shady trees. And there was wild honeysuckle there. And, best of all, it sorter dipped out of sight between the two hills. It was sorter made for us to meet in. So of an evening Gracie would come along this way to get the cows for milking, and I most awful sudden found out there were a heap of squirrels along that old lane. So I would tote the old muzzle-loader and go hunting down that way. I don’t recollect getting many squirrels. But I kinder used to always go back there every evening.
Alvin’s friend Marion Lephew was courting Gracie’s older sister Maudie, and while at the Williams’s house he would pass messages from Alvin to Gracie.20 Gracie and Alvin would also leave notes for each other in an old fence post where she tended the cows.21 Their relationship grew steadily until June 1917, when Gracie accepted his marriage proposal. Alvin nervously sought her father’s consent and found Mr. Williams in the fields hoeing potatoes. He slowly approached him and said, “[Gracie and me] … decided to get married.” Mr. Williams paused, then answered, “Well, she don’t need to marry nobody, but if she’s going to marry, I’d as soon she marry you as anybody.”22 Everything seemed to be going his way, even finding a job paying $1.65 for ten hours of work a day helping to build a road to Pall Mall.23 (The road that he helped build would later be named the Sergeant York Highway.)
Alvin’s world would soon be turned upside down when in April 1917 the United States declared war on Imperial Germany. Events in Europe over the past three years were so distant and unrelated to Alvin.24 The death and destruction along the Western Front was something that the locals knew very little about. But, comparing it to a dark cloud that gradually became impossible to ignore, York sensed that things were changing not only for his nation, but for his valley as well once news of President Wilson’s declaration of war reached them. Alvin tried to ignore the gathering storm in 1917 by focusing on his work and courting Gracie, but this changed when he received a red card in the mail from the federal government directing him to register for the draft.
The draft registration card filled Alvin with confusion on how to reconcile the demands of his government with those of the Bible. The dilemma was deeper than a religious conflict for him. His ancestors were patriotic people, even fighting on the side of the Union during the American Civil War, an unpopular move in a state that ended up throwing its lot in with the Confederacy. They had paid a high price for this at the hands of Confederate renegades and bandits during that war, with several of Alvin’s ancestors being killed. There was no question of Alvin serving his nation. The issue was how to reconcile the Bible’s commandment of “Thou shalt not kill” with “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.” To find an answer, Alvin spent hours in prayer and poured himself into the Bible seeking an answer to the dilemma. Of this, Alvin wrote:
I wanted to follow both. But I couldn’t. They were opposite. And I couldn’t reconcile them nohow in my soul. I wanted to do what was right. I wanted to be a good Christian and a good American too. I had always figured that the two were sort of connected. And now I was beginning to find out that they were kinder opposed to each other. If I went away to war and fought and killed, according to my reading of the Bible, I weren’t a good Christian, And if I didn’t go to war and do these things, according to Uncle Sam, I weren’t a good American.25
Alvin turned to his spiritual mentor, Pastor Pile, for guidance. Ironically, it was Pile who delivered York his draft notice, while he was working with a crew on building the new highway.26 As the proprietor of the local store, Pile also operated the town’s post office. In this capacity, the federal government directed him to serve as the draft registrar for Pall Mall. Pile was the right man for Alvin to confer with for advice. Pastor Pile encouraged him to register for the draft as the government ordered, but to request exemption as a conscientious objector for religious reasons. With that, York filed his draft registration card in June 1917. At the bottom of it, on line 12, which states, “Do you claim exemption from draft (specify grounds)?” Alvin wrote, “Yes, Don’t Want to Fight.”27
As Alvin’s words for exemption on his draft card were inadequate, the Fentress County Draft Board refused his first request for exemption and summoned him to Jamestown for a physical exam on 28 August 1917 to see if he were fit for duty. Weighing 165 pounds and just above six feet tall, Alvin York was certified as physically qualified for military service by a family friend, Dr. W. E. Mullinix (D.D.S.), and Dr. J. N. Chism (M.D.).28
While being administratively approved physically for military service, York seized the opportunity to formalize his request for exemption.29 Assisted by Pastor Pile, Alvin filed U.S. Form 153 with the Fentress County Draft Board. York wrote, “I hereby respectfully claim discharge from selective draft on the following ground, that I am a member of a well recognized sect or organization, organized and existing May 18, 1917, whose then existing creed or principles forbade its members to participate in war in any form and whose religious principles are against war or participation therein in accordance with the creed or principles of said well recognized religious sect or organization.”30
The draft board’s reply to his request was, “Denied, because we do not think The Church of Christ in Christian Union is a well-recognized religious sect, etc. Also, we understand it has no especial creed except the Bible, which its members more or less interpret for themselves, and some do not dis-believe in war at least there is nothing forbidding them to participate.”31 One of the draft board members, Dr. Mullinix, commented on York during this process, saying, “He didn’t object to going to war, but he did object on account of his religion. … He just filed his objection with the board. I think Rosier Pile fixed that up. [But] he didn’t discuss his objections before the board.”32
Alvin thought that the board would decide in his favor, but when it did not, his world spun out of control. “I was bothered more than ever. I done done what I thought was right. I followed God, so I thought, even against the judgment of my country. … I couldn’t accept the written word of man against the written command of God. So I appealed against their decision.”33 The appeal went to the State of Tennessee Draft Board. Alvin included two notarized affidavits, one from him and one from Pastor Pile, affirming his religious objection to war. Nevertheless, this appeal was also refused. In the end, Alvin submitted four appeals for exemption, all of which were refused by the draft boards.34 Yet, there appears to be considerable inconsistency in what is written in relation to York’s explanation of these requests and subsequent appeals for exemption from military service as a conscientious objector.
The problem started with the 26 April 1919 George Pattullo article in the Saturday Evening Post. In this, Pattullo states, “York is the Second Elder in the Church of Christ in Christian Union … they are conscientious objectors. But York refused to ask exemption.”35 Additionally, the first book written on York, in 1922, says that York “had to make the plea for exemption, no one could make it for him. Alvin never made it.”36 However, the fact is that there are four requests from York on record for exemption. The confusion is that while York submitted no further written appeals for exemption once he entered service, additional requests were submitted in April 1918 without his consent. It seems that York considered his requests for exemption when he was a civilian separate from his time in the army. Pattullo and Cowan therefore created a false impression that York simply swallowed his pacifism and went off to fight for his country. The truth is more complex, and this remained an issue that he wrestled with even on the morning of his great combat heroism on 8 October 1918.
With his exemption denied, the only recourse remaining was to hope and pray that he would not be called up for the draft. This waiting was a time of mental and spiritual anguish for York. He prayed for God’s intervention to change the hearts of the draft board and had faith that God’s Word would prevail over men. Alvin wrote of this: “I wuz sorter mussed up inside worser’n ever. I thought that the word of God would prevail against all of the laws of man and of nations.”37 Things came to a head on 10 November when he received his draft notice to report to Jamestown, Tennessee, for duty. He was filled with confusion and wondered if his prayers had gone unheeded. Only two options remained, either report for duty or flee to the mountains, where he would be hunted as a fugitive.
Pastor Pile encouraged Alvin to put his faith in God, saying, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”38 With this, Pile assured Alvin that everything would turn out alright as long as he remained faithful to God’s word. With no options remaining, York packed a bag and reported to Jamestown for military service on 14 November 1917.39 Before leaving he had a private meeting with Gracie, where they promised devotion and reaffirmed their marriage plans upon his return from the army.40
York waited in Jamestown for several days until the required number of men arrived. After this, the men were transported to Oneida, Tennessee, and then by train to Camp Gordon, Georgia. He would remain at Camp Gordon for five months before shipping off to France. These five months of army training would prove woefully inadequate, but the men would ship off to war nonetheless when the time came.
After completing the mundane administrative tasks of being integrated into the army at Camp Gordon, York was assigned to the 157th Depot Brigade, issued uniforms and military equipment, and began basic training.41 Many soldiers with Alvin knew that this was going to be the experience of a lifetime. With this in mind, York purchased a small, red, pocket-sized book in which to record his thoughts during the adventure.42 Naming it “A history of places where I have been,” this booklet would serve as the basis for the diary that he published ten years later.
The first morning as a soldier for Private York was a sign of how alien this new world was. As generations of soldiers have done since, his platoon was lined up between the barracks and ordered to police dropped cigarette butts. As most nonsmokers still assert, York commented, “I thought that was pretty hard as I didn’t smoke. But I did it just the same.”43 The flat pinewoods of Camp Gordon, Georgia, were far different from the land that he was accustomed to. Additionally, he was working with a strange mixture of people and ethnic groups from across the United States that included immigrants from virtually every corner of Europe, many of whom could not speak a word of English. Until things made sense to him, Alvin determined that it would be best to keep a low profile. This would not be too difficult, as the training schedule provided little free time. Additionally, he shared little in common with his fellow draftees, especially on their views of war. This made things awkward, and with this in mind, Alvin wrote:
I jes went to that old camp and said nothing. I did everything I was told to do. I never once disobeyed an order. I never once raised my voice in complaint, but I was sick at heart jes the same, heard the boys around me talking about what fun it would be to go overseas and fight in the trenches. I heard them telling of how many Germans they were going to kill if ever they got a chance. I heard all sorts of things about the glory of war. But I couldn’t see it like they seed it no-how. I prayed and prayed that God would show me His blessed will.44
Ironically, York’s willingness to quickly and without protest accomplish the tasks given him did make him stand out to his leaders. But through it all, his struggle to reconcile military service with his beliefs remained a burden. The concern was that he was being trained to be an infantryman, where bayonet practice and rifle skills were all focused on how best to kill another human being. Had he been assigned to a clerical position, or logistics, he could have reconciled his conflict between faith and fighting, but being trained to kill kept this quandary ever before him.
Alvin remained in this training unit for three months, enduring daily inspections, learning how to march, salute, construct trenches, and perform an array of other diverse tasks.45 Even so, the hardest part to inculcate to the new recruits was military bearing and discipline.46 York’s training records show that he had a solid camp record, both on and off duty. As for character, his commander wrote that it was “Very Good.” This was a good start for him, particularly when he finished basic training and was assigned to the 328th Infantry Regiment, 82nd Division, on 9 February 1918.47
The 82nd Division was also located at Camp Gordon, which made his move from the depot brigade easy. The division had experienced considerable organizational challenges since its creation in August 1917.48 It was to be a southern division, composed of men from Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama. In spite of this, the War Department could not keep up with expanding requirements and ordered that the preponderance of the 82nd’s soldier’s fill understrength southern National Guard units so that these could be more quickly shipped to France.49 Thus, the 82nd found itself a shell of a unit in late 1917 until sufficient draftees arrived to make it a viable organization. A large number of these replacements were from New England and the Middle Atlantic states, and they soon outnumbered the remaining southerners.50 After a survey was done of the soldiers enrolled in the 82nd, it was discovered that nearly every state in the Union, forty-six of the forty-eight, was represented in the division, thus giving it the moniker the “All-American Division.”51
The early days of the 82nd Division were daunting to say the least. After losing its initial allotment of soldiers to other units, it had to start training again with a variety of recruits from diverse regional and ethnic backgrounds. Many of these soldiers were recent immigrants from Italy and Eastern Europe, and “approximately twenty per cent, of these men were of foreign birth and several hundred were not citizens of the United States. Training was seriously handicapped by a substantial percentage of men who were unable to read, write and in some cases even speak English. These were those who could neither speak nor understand the common tongue.”52 This was what the entire army faced. Although American draftees came from some forty-six nationalities, the preponderance of the foreigners entering the U.S. Army were Italians, Slavs, Russian Jews, Greeks, and Armenians.53 In this strange and foreign world of the 82nd “All-American” Division, York would serve for the next fifteen months.54
Such was the situation for the fledgling American Expeditionary Forces, of which the commander, General John J. Pershing, commented, “Although the thirty-four National Guard and National Army divisions that eventually came to France were, with two exceptions, organized in August and September 1917, they did not receive training as complete units from that time on. They were filled gradually and by piecemeal, weeks and even months usually elapsing before they reached full strength.”55 What Pershing did not grasp was that even had the units trained as he wished prior to arriving in France, they still would not have been ready for war. Regardless of what transpired, these Americans would not enter combat fully ready.
The training tempo for the 82nd Division was ambitious and difficult to sustain. Due to America’s lack of preparation, there was a shortage of everything, especially weapons and implements of war. While waiting for their rifles to arrive, the soldiers used wooden guns, which the men mockingly referred to as the “Camp Gordon 1917 Model Rifle.”56 As one of the battalion’s officers wrote, “Up till now the men thought that we were going to beat the Boche with sticks and rocks, while the officers had a hazy idea that we were going to shoot a few with some kind of rifle.”57 Compounding this was that the equipment arrived piecemeal and sporadically, thereby throwing any training plan off-kilter on a recurring basis.58
To overcome the challenges of building soldiers from civilians and lacking sufficient equipment, the division conducted training day and night. The training week included instruction and drills Monday through Thursday, forced marches on Friday, and daylong inspections on Saturday. The average day began at 5:30 A.M. with the “agonizing strains of Reveille, blown by one of our new buglers,” and ended at 7 P.M.59 This helped to make up for the time lost teaching the non-English-speaking immigrants the common tongue and enabled the rest of the unit to learn skills that ranged from the use of the bayonet to wearing a gas mask.60 Additionally, Camp Gordon bristled with all sorts of special training schools, of which, one soldier wrote, “We had schools galore; schools for non-coms, schools for officers, primary schools, and schools for general information, at which the Captain, supported by an all-star cast of company officers, talked himself hoarse, and the company asleep on any subject that came into his mind, from Army Regulations to the care of the feet.”61
York’s regimental commander, Colonel Julian Lindsey, preferred training composed of hours of marching in formation. Called the “Lindsey Special,” the recruits learned close-order drills and the manual of arms in addition to moving as a well-trained formation that would be the envy at any parade.62 The 82nd Division was also ordered by its commander, Major General William P. Burnham, to be a “singing division.” Believing that this helped to improve morale and build esprit de corps, Burnham had copies of the Official Camp Gordon Songbook issued to the troops and demanded that they sing on the march, in the barracks, and anywhere else appropriate. The songbook featured a selection of Christian hymns, patriotic choruses, and a few contemporary hits, including “Pack Up Your Troubles,” “Dixie,” “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” and the “Star-Spangled Banner.”63 The men did not throw themselves into singing, but, as a soldier recalled, whenever a senior officer appeared, they would burst into an enthusiastic chorus until they were well out of hearing range.64
York’s regimental commander was Colonel Julian R. Lindsey. Lindsey was a professional soldier who poured his soul into the unit to make it the best it could be. Like York, Lindsey was a devout Christian. He was also an 1892 graduate of West Point, with service in Cuba, China, and the Philippines. With a wealth of military experience, Lindsey expected results and would not tolerate incompetence in his subordinate leaders. (AHEC)
Soldiers in the regiment complained that the training schedule was too arduous, claiming that, “Colonel Lindsay lay awake devising cute little schemes at midnight … inspections and the like to keep us from idleness during the hours from 10:00 P.M. till 5:50 A.M. Goodness, how we wanted to get to France and forget these inspections and reviews.”65 Some of York’s officers echoed this sentiment, saying that they overtrained on nonessential skills, but, being almost totally new to the army, and not understanding modern warfare, the leaders honestly did not know what they would face in France.66 In fact, few of the 2 million American soldiers who arrived in France were adequately trained for the realities of the Western Front.67 This training deficit was exacerbated by contradictory messages that the soldiers were given by “expert” French and British instruction. One soldier in York’s regiment wrote, “Foreign instructors arrived on the scene, each to show us the only way to win the war. The French swore by the hand-grenade and the Chauchat [a light machine gun], the British swore by the bayonet, and we swore by … well, anyway, we swore and worked a little harder.”68
York’s division spent hours on often useless tasks that would do little to prepare them for combat. One of these tasks was singing. The division commander, Major General William Burnham, declared the 82nd a singing division and issued each soldier a book of patriotic songs and Christian hymns to sing. Here, soldiers are seen at Camp Gordon singing with gusto from their division song book. (NARA)
York was assigned to G Company, 328th Infantry Regiment. The leadership was a mix of diverse personalities and leadership styles. The regimental commander was Colonel Julian R. Lindsey. Lindsey was a professional soldier who poured his soul into the unit to make it the best it could be. A devout Baptist and an 1892 graduate of West Point, he had served in Cuba, China, and the Philippines. As a cavalryman, Lindsey gained fame in 1914 as one of the U.S. Army’s best polo players.69 With a wealth of military experience, Lindsey was the force behind the almost impossible training schedule, but like a bull elephant on the African savannah, he would not take no for an answer. He expected results and was unmerciful to weak leaders.
York’s battalion commander was Major G. Edward Buxton, from Rhode Island, a Harvard graduate with a sharp, intellectual mind and fatherly approach to his men. Buxton was the first New Englander York met, and he was pleased to hear that Buxton was a Christian.70 But, hearing Buxton speak of Christianity, York was confused as to how the major could reconcile his faith with military service and war: “He was a very good man, but at that time I was most troubled for his soul. I disliked to think that such a good man as he appeared to be would be willing to go to war and lead other men to fight, I couldn’t understand how he could sorter square war and killing with his professed religious beliefs.”71 Knowing that Major Buxton was a Christian gave Alvin a glimmer of hope that he might find a sympathetic ear in regard to his religious views against war.
The company commander, Captain E.C.B. Danforth, was also a Harvard graduate. York thought him as tall and fit as a hickory pole.72 Danforth had the hometown advantage, as he was not just from Georgia, but also from Augusta, just outside the gates of Camp Gordon.73 York’s platoon leader was Lieutenant Kirby Pelot Stewart, an energetic and spirited young officer from Lake City, Florida. The platoon sergeant was Harry M. Parsons, who hailed from Brooklyn. Parsons was a big man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a heavy New York City accent, which was referred to as “a distinct Bowery brogue.”74 Despite his upbeat and outgoing personality, he was fierce when antagonized and someone the soldiers learned not to cross. He mixed well with the soldiers and enjoyed joking and singing with them to keep up their spirits both in the barracks and during the long forced marches. In civilian life Parsons was a vaudeville actor, and he made good use of this skill to earn the respect of the men. Parsons would prove to be a positive force for York and a stalwart combat leader.75
York’s platoon “was made up of Greeks, Slavs, Swedes, Jews, Irish, Germans, and Italians.”76 Describing this diverse group of ethnicities, Alvin wrote:
So there they put me by some Greeks and Italians to sleep. Well, I couldn’t understand them and they couldn’t understand me … I had never had nothing to do no-how with foreigners before. When I first heard them talk I kinder thought they were angry with each other; they seemed to talk so fast and loud. I couldn’t pronounce their names nohow. There was a great big Pole whose name was Private Feodor Sok. That was easy. We jes called him Sok. There was another, Private Maryan E. Dymowski. I never could get the straight of that nohow. And then there was Private Joe Konotski [Kornacki]. I couldn’t do much with that either. And there was Private Mario Muzzi and Michael Saccina. These are only a few of the foreigners we done had in my platoon. But they kinder give some idea of what a mixed-up gang we had in the All-American Division.77
In the platoon, the men tended to gravitate into regional and ethnic groupings, especially in the cases of the Italians, Poles, and Irish. This tribalization compounded Alvin’s alienation. It was hard enough for him to fit in, as he was an odd addition to the unit, being a Tennessee mountain man, the tallest of the bunch, who had no experience in mixing with other ethnic groupings.78 Combining this with his Christian faith and antiwar views as a conscientious objector would be a recipe for disaster. Fortunately for him, his platoon had not yet heard of his antiwar views. Once word got out, he knew that life would only become worse for him, as men with such beliefs were considered cowards and shirkers.79
Alvin felt the urge to fall back into his old sins. He was under pressure from his platoonmates to fit in, and the lure to join the men in heading to downtown Augusta to party and chase women was intense. The temptation was particularly acute in that he was far from home and away from the accountability of his church, mother, and pastor. This was perhaps the lowest ebb in Alvin’s military career, as he felt alienated and homesick in this environment and sought peace by studying the Bible and in prayer.80 His faith enabled him to pass this test of his values, and no doubt his life experiences had prepared him for this moment as well. Although he was not well traveled by 1917, he knew the ways of the world, as his experiences in the Blind Tigers helped him to face pressure and not be intimidated by those around him. York had seen much of the world between his humble home in Pall Mall and the wild bars on the Kentucky border. Although wrestling with temptation, he vowed to maintain a professional outlook and to obey every order given him without a complaint. This trait earned Alvin praise from Captain Danforth, who said that “he made a good soldier, being willing and quick to pick up work and obeying all orders.”81 Nevertheless, in early 1918 Alvin decided to express to his leaders his concerns about fighting in war as a Christian.82
Pictured here are seven of the soldiers who served with York in the army. (Niagara Falls Gazette, 11 November 1929)
As Alvin settled into camp routine, he found that there were opportunities to meet other believers. He discovered that there were numerous Bible studies conducted at Camp Gordon, and eagerly participated in many.83 The most encouraging event for him, however, was befriending Private Murray Savage in his platoon. From East Bloomfield, New York, Savage, although not a conscientious objector, shared York’s Christian faith. Being like-minded, the two were inseparable.84
While waiting for an opportunity to see if his leaders would be sympathetic to his objection to fighting, Alvin, along with his regiment, finally was issued the M1917 U.S. Enfield “Eddystone” rifle in March 1918.85 These rifles, covered in grease, arrived in large boxes. Alvin was horrified to see this, understanding how critical it was to always keep one’s rifle clean. After cleaning the weapons, they marched to the division’s rifle range at Norcross, Georgia.86 Having soldiers proficient in shooting their rifles is always imperative in a modern army, but it was the premier soldier skill for the commander of all American forces in Europe, General John “Blackjack” Pershing. Pershing’s idea was that as soon as large numbers of American riflemen were put into the lines, they would, with élan and audacity, break the stalemate of the Western Front trench warfare.87 Because of this emphasis on marksmanship, the judgment cast upon a soldier was often rooted in how good a shot he was. Here, Alvin would find his redemption.88
Since the division’s rifle range was in an isolated location, each battalion would do nothing but shoot for an entire week.89 When his unit had its first go at the rifle range, York watched in horror and amusement, as “them-there Greeks and Italians and Poles and New York Jews and some of the boys from the big cities hadn’t been used to handling guns. Some of them didn’t even know how to load them, and when they fired they not only missed the targets, they missed the backgrounds on which the targets were fixed. They missed everything but the sky.” When York’s turn to shoot came, his routine of wetting his front site with his thumb before shooting—“to reduce halation and glare”—caused some laughter, but this was forgiven when he proved to be the best shot in the battalion.90 This caught the attention of his officers, who asked him to train his platoon on how to shoot.91
Being introduced to the rifle that he would carry to France to kill Germans brought York’s dilemma back to life. He at long last nervously approached his company commander, Captain Danforth. York told him that although he endeavored to be a good soldier, he had reservations about killing his fellow man. He added that he had “prayed and prayed” but could not come to a resolution on the matter. Interestingly, York said that he would remain a soldier if he was ordered, but explained that his denomination was opposed to war and that killing would be a transgression for him.92
Danforth listened patiently to York’s concerns and told him that there were other conscientious objectors at Camp Gordon, but that most of these were fakes trying to get out of military service. Unlike these, Danforth knew, York was sincere in his opposition to war. He promised to discuss the matter with Major Buxton, and promised York a “square deal.” Alvin’s measured and thoughtful approach, without resort to threats and ultimatums, gained Danforth’s empathy. This was helped by the fact that York had a reputation for being a hardworking and reliable soldier.93
Later that week, Danforth escorted York to Major Buxton’s sparse quarters. Alvin carried his Bible along so that he could go to the source of his faith in the discourse. Although Major Buxton had a friendly demeanor, and was an outspoken Christian, York was not sure what to expect. He knew that the army had an institutional bias against conscientious objectors, and his cause was certainly not helped by those who were using religion as a pretense to escape the war. Furthermore, with such a rigorous training schedule, York could not expect either Buxton or Danforth to invest time in him, as there was none to spare.
Much to York’s relief, Buxton immediately put him at ease by welcoming him to discuss the matter informally as fellow Christians. York recollected: “The major was very friendly-like; he always was with us boys. He told us to sit down. He said he didn’t want to discuss this question as a battalion commander discussing it with an officer and a private. He wanted us to discuss it as three American citizens interested in a common cause. He said he respected any honest religious conviction and would be glad to discuss things as man to man.”94
Displaying an incredible grasp of the Bible, both Danforth and Buxton walked through the scriptures to discuss verses that favored war, while York answered with verses that opposed war. The discourse lasted hours, and Buxton later recalled that it remained civil and respectful.95 York may have felt it providential to have been assigned officers with well-informed Christian views who were willing to openly discuss their faith with him.96 The pattern of the debate was like a page out of Saint Augustine’s writings, with a discussion of prowar and antiwar verses. When Buxton read Luke 22:36, “he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one,” York replied with Matthew 5:39, “But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” When Major Buxton reminded him that Jesus chased the money changers out of the temple, York answered with John 18:36, “Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, … but now is my kingdom not from hence.”97
York was impressed by the character of the meeting: “We didn’t get annoyed or angry or even raise our voice. We jes examined the old Bible and whenever I would bring up a passage opposed to war, Major Buxton would bring up another which sorter favoured war. I believed the Lord was in that room. I seemed somehow to feel His presence there.”98 As the discussion progressed, Buxton explained that Jesus Christ delegated duties to the Christian in regard to earthly governments when he said, “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s,” in addition to Saint Paul’s admonition from Romans chapter 13, “Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God. Whosoever therefore resisteth the power resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.”99 These were important scriptures for York to ponder.
From this, Buxton transitioned to lay out Augustine’s Just War arguments and then drew parallels between the German aggression, its atrocities against Belgium, and the obligations of government to protect the liberties and freedoms of people. York was not convinced by the allegations of German abuses in Belgium, yet he understood that there were obligations for a Christian to “render unto Caesar” and, in so doing, defend the defenseless. At that moment, Captain Danforth delivered the coup de grace by reading Ezekiel chapter 33,
Again the word of the LORD came unto me, saying, Son of man, speak to the children of thy people, and say unto them, When I bring the sword upon a land, if the people of the land take a man of their coasts, and set him for their watchman: If when he seeth the sword come upon the land, he blow the trumpet, and warn the people; Then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come, and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head. He heard the sound of the trumpet, and took not warning; his blood shall be upon him. But he that taketh warning shall deliver his soul. But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at the watchman’s hand. So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me. When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand. Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.100
This scripture, with Buxton’s logical presentation of the scriptures and the Just War concept, impacted York. York parted that evening saying that he would like time to think over all that was said. Major Buxton told him to take all the time that he needed, and implied that if he could not come to terms with fighting, then there was a possibility to transfer him into a noncombat function or to dismiss him entirely from the army.101 With that, York returned to his duties. Yet, due to the training schedule, York was unable to reconcile the clash of ideas of whether to fight or not to fight. He just did not have time to think. Additionally, word had gotten out about his objection to military service, pitting some of his platoonmates against him. The two who were most troubled by York’s religious views were Bernard “Bernie” Early and William Cutting. (Cutting enlisted under an alias; his real name was Otis B. Merrithew).102
Early was a naturalized citizen hailing from Ireland who worked as a bartender before entering the army in New Haven, Connecticut. He liked to drink, curse, fight, and go absent without leave (AWOL). Cutting was Early’s particular friend, and he shared the same interests. As part of his fictional persona that he created to match his assumed name, Cutting told the men that he was an iceman in Boston. The truth was that he was a farmhand.103 Early and Cutting were like what Alvin was before his discovery of Christ on 1 January 1915. Neither Cutting nor Early knew of Alvin’s checkered past or that he once fought and drank like the best of them. As far as they were concerned, York was a coward, and they wanted him to know it.104
As York anticipated, his objection to war led to heated arguments in the barracks. According to Cutting, during one of these verbal spats “York and … Early had fought over the subject of killing. … York had continued on about the foolishness of war until Bernie threatened to blow his brains out and that had ended the argument.”105 A dark cloud settled over the platoon.
The consequence of Early’s and Cutting’s hostility, combined with the intense training schedule, was that York could not get off alone to pray and contemplate his dilemma. As a final recourse, he applied for and received ten days’ leave (21–31 March 1918) to return to Pall Mall to prayerfully consider his decision in the quiet of the Cumberland Mountains.106 Upon arriving home, York was thrilled to see his family, to attend his church, and, of course, to speak with Gracie. He even helped lead a revival service in Pall Mall where several people came forward to accept the Lord. Despite this, a burden was upon him: what to do about the army.107
Alvin sought counsel from Pastor Pile, but his advice merely added to Alvin’s confusion, as the antiwar arguments did not reconcile Buxton’s convincing arguments about obeying governments. With that, Alvin headed up the lonely mountain with his hunting dogs to make his decision. After thirty-six hours of fasting and praying, calm settled upon his tortured soul. Alvin said that he was visited by the presence of God, who filled him with a “peace … , which passeth all understanding.”108 Gone was the doubt, and he came down that mountain full of assurance, saying to his mother, “I am going to war with the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. … I have received my assurance. I have received it from God himself—that it’s right for me to go to war, and that as long as I believe in Him, not one hair of my head will be harmed.”109 With this confidence, York returned to Camp Gordon a new man and ready spiritually for what lay ahead.110