‘Mat dirty little Irish son of a bitch is an excellent plant manager.”
“He lied.1 It’s all liesl”
“It’s the truthl He kept a number of men from pressIng charges against you.
You should be grateful for that”
“To hell with theral Groveling little snot-noses I”
“Your language is abhorrentl Who are you to call names? What have you
contributed?”
“I don’t have tol”
“Why? Because you’re what you are? What are you? What extraordinary
capabilities do you possess? I’d like to IWOW.11
“That’s what yoWre looking for, isn’t it? isn’t ifl? What can you do,
little man? What can you do to make money ?02
“It’s one measure of success.”
“Ws your only measurel”
“And you reject it?”
“You’re damned rightl”
‘Men become a missionary.”
“No, thanksl”
“Then don’t cast aspersions at the marketplace. It takes a certain
capability to survive there. Your father knew that.”
40
“He knew how to maneuver. You think I haven’t heard? How to manipulate,
just like youl”
“He was a genius! He trained himself! What have you done? What have you
ever done but live on what he provided? And you can’t even do that
graciously I”
“Shit!”
Elizabeth suddenly stopped for a moment, watching her son. “That’s it! My
God, that’s it, isn’t it? . . . You’re frightened to death. You possess a
great deal of arrogance but you have nothing-absolutely nothing-to be ar-
rogant about! It must be very painful.”
Her son raced out of the room, and Elizabeth sat for a long time pondering
the exchange that had just taken place. She was genuinely afraid. Ulster
was dangerous. He saw all around him the fruits of accomplishment without
the talent or the ability to make his own contribution. He’d bear watching.
Then she thought of all three sons. Shy, malleable Roland Wyckham;
studious, precise Chancellor Drew; and the arrogant Ulster Stewart.
On April 6, 1917, the immediate answer was provided: America entered the
World War.
The first to go was Roland Wyckham. He left his senior year at Princeton
and sailed for France as Lieutenant Scarlett, AEF, Artillery. He was killed
on his first day at the f ront.
The two remaining boys immediately made plans to avenge their brother’s
death. For Chancellor Drew the revenge had meaning; for Ulster Stewart it
was an escape. And Elizabeth reasoned that she and Giovanni had not created
an empire to have it terminated by war. One child must stay behind.
With cold calculation she commanded Chancellor Drew to remain a civilian.
Ulster Stewart could go to war.
Ulster Stewart Scarlett sailed for France, had nQ mishaps at Cherbourg, and
gave a fair account of fiimself at the front, especially at Meuse-Argonne.
In the last days of the war he was decorated for bravery in action against
the enemy.
41
CHAPTER 4
November 2,1918
The Meuse-Argonne offensive was in its third or pursuit stage in the
successful battle to break the Hindenburg line between Sedan and M&itres.
The American First Army was deployed from Regneville to La Haras6e in the
Argonne Forest, a distance of some twenty miles. If the chief German supply
lines in this sector were broken, the Kaiser’s Geneial Ludendorff would have
no alternative but to sue for an armistice.
On November 2, the Third Army Corps under the command of General Robert Lee
Bullard crashed through the demoralized German ranks on the right flank and
took not only the territory but also eight thousand prisoners. Although
other division commanders lived to dispute the conclusion, this
breakthrough by the Third Army Corps signaled the final arrangements for
the armistice a week later.
And for many in B Company, Fourteenth Battalion, Twen”venth Division, lij~d
Corps, the performance of Second Lieutenant Ulster Scarlett was a superb
example of the heroics that prevailed during those days of horror.
It started early in the morning. Scarlett’s company had reached a fleld in
front of a small forest of pine. The miniature forest was filled with
Germans trying desperately to regroup under cover in order to execute an
orderly retreat farther back into their own lines. The Americans dug three
rows of shallow trenches to minimize their exposure.
42
Second Lieutenant Scarlett had one dug for himself just a bit deeper.
The captain of Scarlett’s company did not like his second lieutenant, for
the lieutenant was very good at issuing orders but very poor at executing
them himself. Further, the captain suspected him of being less than
enthusiastic about being shifted from a reserve division to the combat
-area. He also held it against his second lieutenant that throughout their
reserve assignment-the major portion of their stay in France-he had been
sought out by any number of ranking officers, all only too happy to have
their photographs taken with him. It seemed to the captain that his second
lieutenant was having a bell of a good time.
On this particular November morning, he was delighted to send him out on
patrol.
“Scarlett. Take four men and scout out their positions.”
“You’re insane,” said Scarlett laconically. “What positions? Tliey’re
hightailing it out of the whole area.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I don’t give a God damn what you said. Tbere’s no point in a patrol.”
Several of the men were sitting in the trenches watching the two officers.
“What’s the matter, Lieutenant? No photographers around? No country club
colonels to pat you on the back? Get four men and get out there.”
“Go shag, Captaint”
“Are you disobeying your superior officer in the face of the enemy?”
Ulster Stewart looked at the smaller man with contempt. “Not disobeying.
Just being insubordinate. Insulting, if you understand the term better. .
. . I’m insulting you because I think you’re stupid.”
The captain reached for his holster, but Scarlett swiftly clamped his large
hand on his superior’s wrist.
“You don’t shoot people for insubordination, Captain. Ifs not in the
regulations. . . . I’ve got a better idea. Why waste four other men. . . .”
He turned and glanced at the soldiers watching. “Unless four of you want to
be candidates for Schnauzer bullets, I’ll go myself.”
The captain was stunned. He had no reply.
The men were similarly and gratefully surprised. Scarlett removed his hand
from the captain’s arm.
43
“I’ll be back in half an hour. If not, I suggest you wait foK some rear
support. We’re quite a bit ahead of the others.”
Scarlett checked the magazine of his revolver and quickly crawled around
the captain to the west Bank, disappearing into the overgrown field.
The men mumbled to each other. They had misjudged the snotty lieutenant
with all the fancy friends. The captain swore to himself and frankly hoped
his second lieutenant would not return
Which was precisely what Ulster Scarlett had in mind.
His plan was simple. He saw that about two hundred yards to the. right of
the wooded area in front of Company B was a clump of large rocks surrounded
by antumn-foliaged trees. It was one of those rough-hewn spots that farmers
can not dig out, so the fields were planted around it. Too small an area
for any group but ample space for one or two individuals to hide them-
selves. He would make his way there.
As he crawled through the field, he came upon a number of dead infantrymen.
The corpses had a strange effect upon him. He found himself removing
personal items–wristwatches, rings, tags. Ripping them off and dropping
them seconds later. He wasn7t sure why he did it- He felt like a ruler in
some mythical kingdom, and these were his subjects.
After ten minutes he wasn’t sure of the direction of his refuge. He raised
his head just high enough to orient himself, saw the tips of some small
trees, and knew he was headed toward his sanctuary. He hurried forward,
elbows and knees pounding the soft earth.
Suddenly he came to the foot of several large pines. He was not in the
rocky knoll but on the edge of the small forest his company planned to
attack. His preoccupation with the dead enemy had caused him to see what he
wanted to am The small trees had actually been the tall pines above him
He was about to crawl back into the field when he saw, about fifteen feet
to his left, a machine gun with a German soldier propped up against the
trunk of a tree. He drew his revolver and remained still. Either the German
had not seen him or he was dead. The gun was pointed directly at him.
44
Then the German moved. Only slightly with his right arm. He was trying to
reach his weapon but in too much pain to accomplish the task.
Scarlett rushed forward and fell upon the wounded soldier, trying to make
as little noise as possible. He could not let the German fire or raise an
alarm. Awkwardly he pulled the man away from the gun and pinned him on the