Bodies of War: World War I and the Politics of Commemoration in America, 1919-1933

1. The Journey’s End

13 1 The Journey’s end on a warm morning in late May 1933, Mrs. estella kendall of shenandoah, iowa, walked anxiously through the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery in northern France. Many summers had passed since that day in 1918 when she first learned of her son’s death: as a member of the 168th infantry, 42nd Division, First sergeant Harry N. kendall had been attempting to move his men to a safer position during the opening hours of the Champagne sector battle; before they could find shelter, a shell exploded , killing him instantly.1 Now, on row 12, grave 16, mother and son were reunited as she knelt before his white marble headstone. Mrs. kendall’s choice to leave her son buried overseas had not been an easy one. Like thousands of families across the United states, she struggled with this thorny decision offered by the War Department in 1919. The choice had been unexpected because the government had assured her that once the war was over, the remains of all American soldiers who died abroad would be returned to their homes.2 The pledge was followed by consoling letters, including one from the regimental chaplain, offering solace during her dark hour. The chaplain encouraged estella kendall not to think of Harry as dead but rather as having given his life for his country and the “Great Cause.” “His body only lies buried,” he claimed with certainty. “i believe that he is with God.” The chaplain described the dignified wooden cross that marked Harry’s temporary grave and the honor that had been bestowed on him during the initial battlefield burial service . “such courage and disdain of death’s toll when in line of duty can point to but one thing, that such dauntless spirit is immortal. When it was needed your son gave his body for his country. His spirit is safe in the everlasting arms.”3 The chaplain’s well-intentioned expressions echoed those written to thousands of other families during the eighteen months America participated in the Great War, as it became known. The rhetorical phrases celebrated the glory of victory and sacrifice for democratic ideals and aimed 14 The Journey’s End to solace the grief of the bereaved. in the process, each of the deceased became a cult figure, an embodiment of national identity, thus deserving of preservation and honor by its citizens. so it must have been surprising to Mrs. kendall when, in the war’s aftermath , the government asked her to decide whether Harry’s final resting place should be in her hometown or at Arlington National Cemetery or on the former battlefield in France.4 Despite the options presented and the chaplain’s previous attempts to assuage her grief, in April 1919, estella kendall requested that the body of her son be sent home to iowa, rather than remain in an overseas American cemetery.5 Here, she believed she could care for his grave as only a mother could. Then, in June 1921, nearly three years after Harry’s death, estella kendall mysteriously reversed her decision and wired the army’s Quartermaster Corps’ Graves registration service that he was to rest instead within estella kendall of shenandoah , iowa, at her son’s grave during her pilgrimage to the Meuse-Argonne cemetery at romagnesous -Montfaucon, France, in May 1933. First sergeant Harry N. kendall, 168th infantry , 42nd Division, was killed in 1918. (Courtesy of Liberty Museum, kansas City, Missouri) The Journey’s End 15 one of the new national military cemeteries constructed thousands of miles from American shores. two full years passed before the summer of 1923, when she received word that her son had finally been laid to rest in a permanent grave at the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery, romagnesous -Montfaucon, France.6 Perhaps it was the interminable wait for the return of her son’s body that convinced estella kendall to leave him buried overseas, or it may have been the perpetual care and reverence promised by the American government . either way, nearly twenty-five thousand other families made a similar additional sacrifice that seemed to guarantee everlasting remembrance. Like Mrs. kendall’s, their choice was not made without further pain and indecision. The weight this sacred burden represented to many families is apparent from the steady stream of cable dispatches from Washington, DC, to France, when, by 1921, thousands of families had changed their minds regarding the...