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By Root 2454 0

Before the ceremony, Foch’s staff had made a more formal visit to Pershing’s headquarters, to present Foch’s lengthy list of expectations for the AEF. There would be logistical problems, the assignments to the specific routes that the Americans would take eastward, how the transfer of German equipment would occur, what would happen to the extraordinary number of German prisoners now held behind the Allied lines. Pershing was used to this kind of nightmare of detail, but now, the nightmare was made worse by the fog of uncertainty that he felt about the armistice itself. The focus now was on the careful adherence to the terms of the armistice, keeping his army within their proper boundaries, making sure the Germans did the same. No matter how important it was to enforce every term of the armistice, Pershing could not avoid a dull aching depression.

Pershing’s initial reaction to the armistice order had been the same as many of his men, exhausted disbelief. But he shared none of the giddiness of the men around his headquarters, would not shout out some mindless salute to victory. As much as he yearned for the end of the war, he had always believed that the end could only come about by the absolute defeat of the enemy. The armistice was a halt to the shooting. But the enemy was still out there, and was still capable of making a fight.

THE CEREMONY HAD BEEN BRIEF AND EMOTIONAL, A SHOW OF RESPECT that Foch received with words of gratitude for America’s role in the war. The ceremonies were repeated in the various headquarters, the medal awarded to Douglas Haig and Henri Pétain as well. Each of the commanders hosted Pershing with luncheons and music, and the perfect dress uniforms of honor guards, all the signs of respect and dignity, bestowing solemn gravity to the ceremonies that Pershing knew were utterly meaningless. Though the medals were simply gestures, the words that passed between the men did have meaning, toasts of respect that gave way to surprising displays of emotion. Even Foch’s formal rigidity had been shaken, the stoic Frenchman offering Pershing what every American soldier knew to be true: without the Americans, there would be no armistice.

There would be one more medal awarded, something Pershing had insisted upon, something he did not mention to Foch. Pershing understood the realities of politics, what was acceptable protocol, who should first receive the glad-handed salutes. The final ceremony would be without fanfare, no bands, no honor guard, would take place in the quiet surroundings of an office that had seen little activity in the long weeks of the final campaign. As much as Pershing had to respect Foch, as close as he felt to Pétain, this final ceremony was the one Pershing looked forward to most of all. With President Wilson’s reluctant approval, Pershing would present the Distinguished Service Medal to Marshal Joseph Joffre.

The drive through the wide avenues of Paris had been as chaotic as any experience he had endured along the front lines. With the announcement of the armistice, the city had erupted in a celebration that filled every public square with raucous enthusiasm, great throngs of people who blocked every route. As his limousine became engulfed by the joyous mobs, he had been recognized, word spreading, the people climbing up on his car, some tumbling right into the seat with him. He had been rescued by a small group of American soldiers, who had been part of the celebration themselves, men who had just enough sobriety to understand the necessity of moving their commander on his way.

Joffre had maintained an office in the French National War College, the École de Guerre, knew to expect the visit only because Pershing’s staff had relayed word of his arrival. Pershing was accompanied by three of his staff, including James Harbord, whose extraordinary performance in his position as head of the Service of Supply had completely justified Pershing’s faith in the man’s abilities. Under Harbord’s command, the flow of equipment and provisions to the front lines had been one of the primary tools