The remarkable story of the Swedish emigrant Frank Gustaf Severin Erickson, the brother of Ernst Julius Erickson.
You can find my earlier article about Frank’s brother, Ernst Julius Erickson, here on my webpage.
I am writing this second article in the stories about the Swedish born Erickson brothers, in great cooperation with the grandson of Frank, Mark Julius Erickson.
Mark is a fine art painter based in California and also a Digital Graphic Artist. With permission from him I am here using the improved original photographs from the Erickson family. The story is based on Mark’s research and family records, and I am honored to present it in this article to highlight the connection to the Swedish emigrant history, and to bring the memories of the sacrifice many emigrants made in their new homeland, when they served in the American Expeditionary Force in the Great War.
Pfc. Frank G. S. Erickson of the Lost Battalion
Runner Rifleman * Company H * 308th Infantry * 77th Division
September 26th, 1918 * The Meuse Argonne Offensive * Defensive Sector: Foret-d’Argonne
May 6th, 1919 * Victory Parade on Fifth Avenue * Canyon of Heroes * New York City
The Liberty Brigade
On August 8, 1918, Private Frank G. S. Erickson stood by the railing of the SS Nestor, watching the jagged skyline of Brooklyn recede into a haze of coal smoke and summer heat. Beneath his boots, the deck vibrated with the raw, rhythmic pulse of the ship’s engines, steering them out into the perilous, submarine-haunted waters of the North Atlantic. They sailed not alone, but bound to a naval convoy, a gray flock of camouflaged troopships flanked by agile, predatory destroyers.
For Frank and the thousands of Doughboys packed into the claustrophobic belly of the converted liner, the week at sea dissolved into a haze of wartime tension. Days were fractured by the sudden, shrill shriek of sirens triggering submarine drills, sending sailors scrambling through narrow passageways in the dark. On deck, every eye strained against the rolling gray swells, searching for the lethal white line of a torpedo wake. Below decks, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool, tobacco, and salt-sweat, humming with the nervous chatter of men bound for the trenches.
This was Frank’s first time at sea as an adult, but the ocean spoke to him in echoes of a different life. His mind drifted back to 1903. He had been just an eleven-year-old boy then, standing on a similar deck, watching the horizon for a glimpse of America. That crossing had been a journey of hope, emigrating from Sundsvall, Sweden with his parents and five siblings to build a future out of the prairie soil on the Great Northern Plains of Dakota.
Now, fifteen years later, the great Atlantic circle was closing. Clad in the olive drab of his adopted homeland, Frank contemplated what his family would think of him in this present hour. The same boy who had fled the Old World was now being propelled back toward it by the engines of war. He wasn’t arriving as a wide-eyed immigrant seeking peace; he was returning as a soldier, heading straight for the blood-soaked battlefields of Europe.
When the ship finally slipped into Liverpool a week later, the throngs of cheering onlookers lining the docks provided a surreal contrast to the silent anxiety of the voyage. The roaring welcome struck Frank with a poignant irony; he was back in Europe, but the joyous crowds only amplified his unspoken thoughts of the Western Front.
Those looming thoughts became reality in mid-September when he was transferred to the 308th Infantry as a replacement, ultimately placing him in one of the regiment’s most hazardous roles as the personal Runner to Company H’s commander, Lt. William J. ‘Red’ Cullen.
Once settled into a temporary camp, Frank’s training continued through to early September. Orders came suddenly, transferring him into the 308th Infantry as a replacement. He was on his way to France. Due to eventual casualties in the 308th, he was placed in one of the regiment’s most hazardous roles as the personal Runner to Company H’s commander, Lt. William J. ‘Red’ Cullen.
“Next time I write I will be able to tell you what it is like to be in combat.”
On September 25, 1918, on the eve of the massive Meuse-Argonne Offensive, Frank sat down to write a letter. The 308th Infantry was positioned near the southern edge of the Argonne Forest (Forêt d’Argonne), waiting for the assault to begin.
Frank started his letter, penning the words ‘Somewhere in France’ across the top of the stationery. Just as predictably, he wrote the message in Swedish to his parents, Brita Kristina (Olfsdotter-Olsson Andersson) and Anders Alfred Erickson. They were always waiting for news from their three sons in France, at the family farm in Regan, near Wilton, in Burleigh County, North Dakota. Frank grew up on that family farm, working the fields alongside his father and brothers. He later made a living as a horse wrangler in Montana and California, and in the lumber mills of British Columbia and Oregon. In the year leading up to his induction into the A.E.F. (American Expeditionary Forces), Frank and his brother, Ernest Julius, served as deputies for the Oregon-Washington Railroad and Navigation Company.
By 26 years of age, Frank was highly proficient with weapons and uniquely comfortable in difficult situations. As he awaited his first combat experience, he remained completely calm—smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and writing letters alongside his buddies, wondering what battle would be like. He had no way of knowing that the reality awaiting him would be so extreme.
Somewhere in France on the Southern edge of the Forêt d’Argonne
Dear Parents, I am writing a few lines to let you know that I am alive and well, and I wish you the same. I do not have time to write a long letter this time. It could be a while before I ever have a chance to get another to you.
I got the letter that you sent me a few days ago, and one from Abbie (Frank’s 19-year-old sister). But I have not heard from Ernest Julius (Frank’s older 29-year-old brother-serving with the 361st Regiment, 91st Division) or Sebran (Frank’s younger 22-year-old brother-serving with the 101st Aero Squadron of the Army Air Services (both were serving in France at the time). Hoping to hear from them soon.
You can now hear the cannons thunder at night and day; it feels sometimes it never ends. Such a strange place the battleground is. Life stands still sometimes, and I think of North Dakota and Oregon, and they seem so far away right now. I hope the war ends before Winter, as I know what Winter brings in the North Country, and I can think of that chill right now.
Next time I write, I will be able to tell you what it is like to be in combat. The boys all feel ready. Until then, we await what is to come. Dear greetings to you all from your son,Frank
Pvt. Frank G. S. Erickson.
Company H – 308th Infantry
American Expeditionary Forces
P.S. My serial number is 3143116.
Do not forget my number. You may need it.
Below the letter in Swedish. It is a very special feeling for me to read the Swedish text, which Frank wrote from France just before the start of the Meuse Argonne Offensive.
Day 1 – September 26th, 1918 – The Meuse-Argonne Offensive Begins
The opening infantry assault (H-Hour) of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive on September 26, 1918, officially began at 5:30 a.m. General John J. Pershing’s coordinated opening moment for the main infantry advance across the line was set for 5:30 a.m. following a lengthy pre-dawn artillery preparation. Involving roughly 4,000 artillery pieces and over 1.2 million American and Allied troops.
The 308th was positioned to advance through the difficult terrain of the forest as part of the massive American First Army offensive. The attack on September 26th saw the 1st Battalion of the 308th in the lead, with the 2nd Battalion in support, 500 meters behind.
The 308th Infantry Regiment spearheaded the initial phase of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive from September 26 to October 1, 1918. The Division’s charge through the forest was a demanding one, and the units struggled with contact and coordination due to the fog and difficult terrain.
This initial push set the stage for the regiment’s famous ‘Lost Battalion’ incident, which occurred several days later on October 2nd, when elements of the regiment became cut off behind enemy lines in the Charlevaux Ravine. Penetrating the dense, heavily fortified Argonne Forest was complicated, as they faced relentless German resistance, endured severe casualties, and even before the renowned ordeal of the ‘Lost Battalion,’ when a portion of the force became isolated.
1st Battalion, 308th Infantry’s Commander Major Charles Whittlesey and his Regiment were initially positioned in the rugged, densely wooded Argonne Forest sector of northeastern France, heading out northward deeper into the forest terrain toward the Aire River Valley and the Ravin d’Argonne.
In the early morning hours on September 26th, the 308th Infantry Regiment was assigned a brutal geographical mission. Their sector of the dense Argonne Forest was roughly 1,000 meters wide, packed with ravines, and cut off by massive, four-year-old German fortifications.
The American high command set ambitious goals that underestimated the terrain and the enemy defenses.
The 308th’s first objective was a line of high ground deep in the woods, roughly 1.5 to 2 kilometers north of their jump-off trenches near La Harazée. To reach it, the 308th had to clear out the heavily fortified Ravin de la Fontaine-aux-Charmes and push past the Abri du Crochet, a major German concrete bunker complex.
The ultimate goal by the evening of September 26 was to maintain a grid line stretching across the forest from east to west, just south of Binarville. The 308th was ordered to push through a deep gorge known as the Ravin de l’Homme Mort (Dead Man’s Ravine) and seize the heights overlooking it.
Unfortunately, the 308th did not reach their primary objectives on September 26. The combination of dense underbrush, zero visibility, falling trees from artillery, and hidden German machine-gun nests turned the advance into a crawl. The regiment’s battalions became separated and spent the night of the 26th dug into the mud, still well south of their targets.
Day 2 – September 27th: Objectives
Because they fell short on Day 1, the orders for September 27 were a frantic continuation of the original plan. The primary objective shifted directly to capturing the heavily fortified village of Binarville and the dense trenches surrounding it.
The Hagen Stellung (The Hagen Line) was a massive, deep network of German trenches and concrete pillboxes running just south of Binarville. The 308th was ordered to assault this line directly, breach it, and secure the Binarville-Servon road. If they succeeded in breaking the Hagen Line, they were ordered to push even further north to the Ravin de Charlevaux, the exact location where they would later be trapped during the early October ‘Lost Battalion’ siege.
On September 27, the 308th faced devastating counter-attacks. They successfully cleared parts of the Ravin des Meurissons, but the German Hagen Stellung defenses held firm. Binarville remained firmly in German hands at the end of the second day, setting a grim tone for the slow, yard-by-yard woodland combat that followed.
Day 3 – September 28th
The 308th Infantry resumed its assault on the Hagen Line, an unforgiving German defensive network, with an endless stream of reinforced concrete bunkers and barbed wire thickets. Major Charles Whittlesey’s 1st Battalion and the 2nd Battalion spent the day embroiled in brutal, close-quarters combat inside the Ravin des Meurissons. The dense tree canopy completely blocked visual communication with friendly artillery. The regiment took heavy machine-gun casualties, gaining only a few hundred yards and failing to break the main line.
Day 4 – September 29th
The regiment faced a grueling stalemate. The battlefield conditions rapidly deteriorated due to cold rain, muddy terrain, and mounting exhaustion. The 308th launched repeated frontal assaults against German machine-gun nests hidden in the hillsides south of Binarville. The German positions remained impenetrable. Major General Robert Alexander issued strict orders to all commanders: no retreat is permitted under any circumstances. The 308th dug into the muddy slopes to hold their ground.
Day 5 – September 30th
By the fifth day of continuous combat, the 308th Infantry was severely depleted. The regiment consolidated its positions while awaiting a coordinated Allied effort. The men endured relentless German artillery shelling and skirmishes with German troops. Because of casualties among the original New York draftees, even back in early September, quickly trained replacements from the Midwest were rushed directly to the muddy trenches.
Frank had been a replacement just two weeks prior to the 30th of September. The frontline stabilized slightly, but the grueling attrition left the battalions operating at a considerable disadvantage from their original strength. Frank’s time in combat had been an eye-opener, yet what was to come just three days hence, no one could have imagined.
Day 6 – October 1st – The Eve of Whittlesey’s 500
On October 1st, Major Charles Whittlesey led his battalion north through the terrain of the Ravin d’Argonne. Their tactical goals were ambitious: cross the Charlevaux Ravine and seize control of a critical road and railroad junction.
Whittlesey’s command consisted of two understrength battalions along with two attached companies from the 307th Infantry. Captain George McMurtry, a veteran of the Spanish-American War who rode with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders, was in command of the 2nd Battalion. Whittlesey was commander of the 1st Battalion of the 308th, but as the senior officer present, Whittlesey would take command of the trapped units.
When given their orders for an offensive in the Argonne Forest in France, Whittlesey and McMurtry both claimed it was an impossible task for the two understrength battalions. The dense forest had been held in German hands for nearly four years. It was known to be heavily fortified by German Forces with two lines of trenches, artillery, natural and man-made fortifications, and other strategic defenses.
The American regimental commander ordered them to proceed regardless. Whittlesey replied, “All right, I’ll attack, but whether you’ll hear from me again, I don’t know.” He saw the potential trap ahead, yet he marched his men forward anyway. Charlevaux Ravine and the German-held hillside, where the Lost Battalion would be surrounded the very next day, became the exact, grim reality Whittlesey had just envisioned.
The 1st and 2nd Battalions reached their objective through thick fighting, but French and American units on both their flanks were stopped, allowing the Germans to surround Whittlesey and McMurtry’s units. The situation shifted drastically the following day, October 2. Following their advance, the battalion would find itself entirely encircled by German forces within the confines of the Charlevaux Ravine. This isolation would mark the beginning of the legendary ‘Lost Battalion’ siege.
The 77th Division high command had ordered a renewed, coordinated army-wide push to finally smash through the forest defenses. The 308th spent the day probing for weak spots in the German lines. Whittlesey expressed severe concerns to headquarters about his overstretched flanks. He was told that the French Fourth Army on his left flank would keep pace with him. A narrow, weakly defended ravine running north toward the Charlevaux Valley was identified. Plans were drawn up to exploit it the following morning.
Day 7 – October 2nd – The Breakthrough and the Trap
This day marked the fateful advance that led directly to the siege. At 12:50 PM, Whittlesey’s men discovered the unguarded ravine and successfully broke through the Hagen Line. They pushed rapidly north, fulfilling their strict orders to advance without waiting for adjacent units. By evening, roughly 554 men from the 308th Infantry (along with elements of the 307th and 306th Machine Gun Battalion) reached their objective: the steep northern slope of the Charlevaux Ravine.
Told by their Commanders to “push forward without regard to flanks”, the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the regiment, along with one company from the 307th Infantry Regiment and two companies of the 306th Machine Gun Battalion, penetrated a gap in the German lines on October 2nd and advanced to a ravine at Charlevaux Mill.
Unbeknownst to Whittlesey, the French forces on his left and American units on his right had been brutally repulsed and thrown back. The 308th was completely exposed on a limb. Under the cover of darkness, German forces silently moved in behind them, stringing barbed wire and sealing the ravine.
Day 8 – October 3rd – The Lost Battalion Siege Begins
At dawn, the isolation of the unit became a grim reality. Major Whittlesey sent a patrol back south to establish contact with the division. The patrol encountered heavy machine-gun fire from positions they had passed the night before, realizing the Germans now held the ridges behind them. By the afternoon, the Germans attacked the pocket from all sides with mortars, snipers, and hand grenades, confirming the battalion’s encirclement.
The ‘Lost Battalion’ Siege had officially begun. Cut off from food, water, and medical supplies, the men dug shallow foxholes, many with their bare hands and mess kits, beginning a legendary five-day stand against overwhelming odds. Ill-equipped and short on rations, the soldiers possessed no blankets and quickly exhausted their canteens. Their only remaining water source was a muddy stream entirely covered by German machine guns.
German defenses had checked the progress of the remainder of the 77th Division, leaving the advancing soldiers in an exposed position. German troops reoccupied the gap, encircling the two battalions and trapping them behind enemy lines. These battalions, along with the other three companies, would be besieged in the ravine for five days, from October 3rd to 7th, before the remainder of the Division was able to break through to relieve them. German attacks hounded this pocket of soldiers nearly continuously for all five days, and the depletion of food, water, and medical supplies only increased the soldiers’ suffering.
Frank, as Lt. Cullen’s Runner, moved various messages between Cullen, Major Whittlesey, and 2nd Battalion, 308th Infantry Regiment’s Captain George G. McMurtry, and Captain Nelson M. Holderman of the 307th Infantry’s Company K over the week the Battalion was trapped in the pocket of the Charlevaux Ravine.
The 308th was located on the far left flank of the American line in the dense Argonne Forest in northeastern France, near the village of Binarville, a Commune of the Marne department in northeastern France.
Day 9 – October 4th – Hell’s Half Acre – Tragic Friendly Fire
The German infantry launched heavy assaults from the flanks, throwing stick grenades down into the American foxholes. At 3:00 PM, American artillery trying to support Whittlesey accidentally dropped a massive, devastating barrage directly onto the pocket.
The ordeal inside the pocket of the Charlevaux Ravine had lasted a harrowing week, marked by intense combat, heavy artillery, critical shortages of water, near starvation, and a desperate fight for survival.
Throughout this period, Frank remained relentlessly active as Lt. Cullen’s Runner. Besides his responsibilities conveying messages between the various Battalion commanders, he was responsible for ensuring replacements reached their positions, and working tirelessly to scavenge food, water, and ammunition for his company.
With inadequate means of communication and unable to give their position, Whittlesey’s 500 were therefore presumed lost. In actuality, the unit was exactly where it was supposed to be. Eventually, located by air, they were misidentified as enemy forces and were fired upon by American artillery.
Using the last of his eight carrier pigeons, Cher Ami (Dear Friend in French), Whittlesey sent the message “We are along the road parallel 276.4. Our artillery is dropping a barrage directly on us. For heaven’s sake, stop it!” Soon after Cher Ami arrived at Headquarters, the shelling stopped, but not before a considerable number of the Battalion were killed and wounded.
American headquarters attempted to relieve the burden by executing what is believed to be the United States’ first aerial resupply mission. Food, supplies, and ammunition were airdropped, but landed outside the perimeter and mostly fell into German hands.
Day 10 – October 5th – Relentless Shelling
With the friendly fire halted, the Germans resumed a merciless bombardment with heavy trench mortars. The stench of the unburied dead became overpowering, and the screams of the wounded echoed through the ravine. Denied access to the stream by snipers, the men grew desperate with thirst, crawling at night to lick dew off leaves or sip from muddy puddles. Bandages ran out, forcing medics to wrap wounds in dirty rags and uniforms.
Day 11 – October 6th – Flamethrowers and Grenades
The German command, frustrated by the Americans’ refusal to surrender, deployed specialized shock troops equipped with flamethrowers. The starving Americans, many too weak to stand, leaned against the dirt walls of their trenches and fired organized volleys to repel the flame attacks. Ammunition was becoming critically low, and soldiers were forced to strip cartridges from the belts of their dead comrades to stay armed.
Day 12 – October 7th – The Surrender Demand and Relief
By October 7, 1918, Major Whittlesey’s men were starving, battered, and trapped in the freezing mud of the Charlevaux Ravine. For five days, the men dealt with an onslaught of German mortars, snipers, and flamethrowers.
Looking to end the stalemate, the enemy forces dug into the 200-foot bluffs and tried a different tactic. They sent a captured American, Lowell R. Hollingshead, marching blindfolded back into the pocket with an official typed note.
The letter Whittlesey read dripped with theatrical civility. It laid bare the defenseless reality of his command, urging him to surrender before the final slaughter began.
Whittlesey read the German appeal in silence.
Refusing to dignify the enemy’s psychological warfare with an official written response, he ignored the note and ordered his men to hide the white panels they had previously used to signal friendly aircraft, ensuring the Germans saw no sign of compliance. This quiet, stubborn defiance held the line for just a few more hours until American relief troops finally punched through the German lines that very evening. Around 7:00 PM, the 307th Infantry Regiment, fighting desperately through the woods from the south, finally smashed through the German lines and linked up with Whittlesey’s perimeter. The siege was broken.
Day 13 – October 8th – The Exodus
Of the roughly 554 men who entered the ravine, only 194 walked out on their own power. The rest were dead, missing, or severely wounded. The morning was spent evacuating the horrific scene. Stretcher-bearers carried out the severely wounded, while the survivors limped south out of the Charlevaux Ravine.
Casualties for the Lost Battalion, during the five-day siege, numbered over 350 killed, wounded, and missing. For their leadership and heroics, Major Whittlesey, Captain McMurtry, Captain Holderman, and four other officers were awarded the Medal of Honor, with Whittlesey promoted to Lieutenant Colonel for his extraordinary leadership under fire.
The fortunate survivors of Major Whittlesey’s Lost Battalion truly felt as though they had indeed endured a lifetime of ‘Hell’s Half Acre.’ Many were left in shock, utterly drained and exhausted. Remarkably, Frank emerged intact, able to carry on to the next operation despite the harrowing experience. Relief and rest for the men of the ‘Lost Battalion’ had finally arrived, but at what cost and for the ones who had survived, for how long?
Major Charles Whittlesey on far left, and Pfc. Frank G. S. Erickson, kneeling, 3rd from the right. On October 29, 1918, U.S. Army Signal Corps photographer Keen Polk of 302nd Field Signal Battalion, 77th Division captured a series of photographs of Major Charles Whittlesey and his Lost Battalion soldiers at Apremont-sur-Aire, Ardennes Department, Vouziers Grandpré Arrondissement, Grandpré Canton, Communauté de communes de l’Argonne, Grand Est (formerly Champagne-Ardenne) in the Argonne Forest, France.
Battlefield Challenges
The 308th Infantry had and would continue to face several significant challenges in the Argonne Forest besides enemy fire. It was tough going as they proceeded through the dense vegetation, as the Argonne Forest was characterized by extremely heavy undergrowth, deep ravines, and steep, broken hillsides. The landscape made movement slow, arduous, and exhausting for the troops and created major obstacles for transporting supplies. Evacuating the wounded through the difficult areas under fire was a major challenge. The poor roads and relentless fighting frequently disrupted supply lines. Companies often went without hot food for days, and in some cases, were completely cut off from rations. Water was also scarce and often contaminated. Re-supply of ammunition was often delayed, and soldiers sometimes had to scavenge from fallen comrades or captured enemy positions.
Establishing and maintaining communication lines was nearly impossible due to the dense forest and constant enemy fire breaking the limited telephone wires. Runners often got lost or were killed, making effective command and control extremely difficult. The weather in the autumn of 1918 was often wet and cold. Soldiers were constantly exposed to the elements, leading to trench foot, sickness, and general misery. The lack of passable roads and the sheer number of casualties meant that many wounded soldiers had to wait for extended periods before receiving aid or being moved to field hospitals.
The division, largely composed of drafted men from New York City with urban backgrounds, was not formally trained in the specifics of forest warfare, which added to the difficulties of navigation and combat in such an environment. Due to communication failures, the ‘Lost Battalion’ incident, in particular, was exacerbated by American artillery mistakenly firing on their own positions. Friendly fire was a fairly common occurrence for American and British troops. It was rarely intentional, a rather unavoidable product of mass industrial warfare, poor communication technology, and the heavy reliance on complex artillery tactics.
Troops advanced behind a moving curtain of friendly artillery. If infantry moved too fast, or guns fired ‘short rounds’ due to worn-out barrels or bad weather, shells landed directly among friendly forces. Two-way radio communication did not exist on the front lines. Messages relied on Runners like Frank Erickson, field telephones that were easily cut by shrapnel, or visual signals like pigeons and flares that were obscured by smoke. Thick clouds of cordite smoke, poison gas, and mud obscured vision, leading to panicked infantry firing on adjacent friendly patrols or lost units. With American and British forces expanding so quickly, the green recruits and newly commissioned officers often lacked coordination skills under pressure.
The type of fighting shifted somewhat. While they still faced enemy fire, the advance was generally more fluid as German resistance began to crumble during the final phase of the offensive in November. They were not constantly enveloped by the claustrophobic, life-threatening conditions of the forest pocket. The sense of making continuous forward progress and the realization that the war was nearing its end significantly boosted morale.
Day 14 – 16 – October 9th – 11th – Brief Respite
The broken remnants of the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 308th Infantry were moved slightly to the rear for emergency medical triage, hot food, and brief rest. There was no extended leave for most of the men. The Meuse-Argonne Offensive was still raging violently all around them, and the Allied high command needed every available man to sustain the momentum.
Day 17 – October 12th -November 11th * Armistice – Back to the Front Line and Beyond
The 308th Infantry Regiment participated in the final phase of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, moving from the Argonne Forest to the Meuse River between October 12th and November 11th, 1918, attacking German-held villages along the river, securing positions as the German army began its inevitable retreat.
On the eve of the November 11th, 1918, Armistice, the 308th Infantry Regiment, along with the rest of the 77th ‘Liberty’ Division, stopped its forward push directly on the banks of the Meuse River near Mouzon.
The regiment transitioned from operations against Grandpré and the Aire River to a rapid advance that concluded with securing positions near Mouzon on the Meuse River. Following the November 11 Armistice, the unit held these positions before moving to the Raucourt region for post-war activities.
Lost Battalion Siege Casualties & Replacements
The soldiers of the 77th Division who had entered into the pocket of the Charlevaux Ravine, the men of the ‘Lost Battalion’ siege suffered a staggering casualty rate of roughly 72%. Only 194 men were able to walk out of the Ravine unscathed when relieved.
Killed in Action (KIA): 122 men
Wounded in Action (WIA): 242 men
Missing / Captured: 63 men (primarily runners or patrols caught trying to sneak through the German lines)
Evacuated Sick / Exhausted: 49 men (succumbing to starvation, severe exposure, and trench foot)
The trapped force had not been a single intact battalion, but rather a composite unit made up of companies from three specific elements of the 77th Division. 308th Infantry Regiment: Contributed the vast majority of the force, consisting of Companies A, B, C, E, G, and H. They bore the absolute brunt of the frontline combat and the tragic friendly fire incident. The 307th Infantry Regiment had contributed Company K. This company had successfully fought its way through to join Major Charles Whittlesey’s advance right before the German encirclement slammed shut. The 306th Machine Gun Battalion had contributed Companies C and D, providing the vital, heavy firepower needed to hold the flanks of the ravine against relentless German infantry assaults.
Replacements were heavily needed ongoing from mid October, as the 308th Infantry had been utterly decimated by the Argonne Forest fighting through the month into November. The already heavy toll of the ‘Lost Battalion’ siege was catastrophic. While the 308th was originally formed at Camp Upton by drafts primarily from New York City, the massive influx of autumn replacements came from across the country, particularly the Western and Midwestern U.S. states. The weeks in late November were crucial for the regiment to integrate hundreds of recruits into the surviving veteran skeleton crews, rebuilding depleted squads and companies back to operational strength.
The Days Begin to Crawl By – Post-Armistice Duties
With the formal end of hostilities at 11:00 AM on November 11, 1918, the 308th Infantry immediately transitioned from assault tactics to occupation, policing, and defensive stability. Their primary responsibilities during the remainder of November included establishing stationary defensive outposts along their reached positions to guarantee the Germans adhered to the ceasefire. Monitoring local bridges, crossroads, and abandoned German military supply dumps to prevent looting. Gathering discarded military equipment, ammunition, and searching the battlefield to identify and bury the dead. The men engaged in mandatory daily drills, marches, and tactical training exercises implemented by Allied command to prevent disciplinary issues and keep the troops sharp.
While the threat of artillery and machine-gun fire vanished overnight, the physical conditions in northeastern France during late November 1918 were notoriously miserable and harsh. The men did not immediately transition to
comfortable indoor barracks. For the first couple of weeks, most men lived in crude, makeshift shelters, exposed trenches, or the ruins of heavily bombed local villages. As the regiment gradually pulled back from the immediate muddy banks of the Meuse toward the Raucourt and Les Petites-Armoises regions, men were billeted in cold, damp French stone barns, abandoned German dugouts, or damaged houses.
Supply lines were severely strained. The rapid Allied advance leading up to November 11 had left logistics miles behind the front. In the weeks directly following the Armistice, meals were far from ‘decent.’ The troops subsisted primarily on standard, monotonous field rations, such as canned ‘monkey meat’ (corned beef), hardtack biscuits, and coffee. Fresh vegetables, hot meat, and bread only trickled in slowly as engineers repaired the shattered roads and rail lines.
Combined with the rapidly approaching winter weather, the lack of dry boots, clean clothes, and proper heating meant that influenza and respiratory illnesses remained a major battle for the men of the 308th long after the guns fell silent.
The Post-Armistice Winter Billeting
From November 12th through November 17th, the 308th withdrew slightly from the immediate banks of the Meuse River. They moved into the Raucourt-et-Flaba and Autrecourt regions to rest, reorganize, and take on their first wave of replacements.
A Letter Home
On November 15th, 1918, Frank wrote a letter home to his family in Regan, ND, specifically to his youngest brother, twelve-year-old Alphonse Frederick Alcassar, At the top he wrote, ‘Somewhere on the Western Front – France.’
Dear Brother Alphonse,Will drop you a few lines and let you know that I am still alive and O.K. and hope to be starting for the U.S. pretty soon.It isn’t bad to be on the front anymore since the war stopped. We don’t have the machine guns and shrapnel anymore.
The Germans fired their cannons until eleven o’clock November 11th. They wouldn’t quit until the last moment, though I guess they are done for all time now. We sure gave them hell in this drive, and probably that’s what put an end to the war, and believe me, we had to fight hard.Have you heard from Ernest lately?
I hope he is alright and will be home soon. I received a letter from Sebran a few days ago, but he didn’t send me his address.
Will ring off for this time with best wishes and regards
from Brother Frank
APO 739Company H – 308th Infantry
American Expeditionary ForcesP.S.
Don’t answer this letter, as I may be on the way to the U.S. before it arrives.
Below the original letter.
The letter was written by Frank (Top row – third from left) to his younger brother Alphonse (bottom row – in the middle)
The Timeline to the Brest Embarkation Camp
From November 26th through December 1918, the regiment began a grueling foot march southward across the war-torn countryside. Moving via Autruche and Grandpré, they traveled over 100 miles down to the Training Area of the 9th Corps in the Côte-d’Or region of Burgundy.
Beginning in December 1918 through April 1919, the 308th was headquartered near the commune of Châtillon-sur-Seine. The men spent four cold winter months in these freezing French villages. Their days were filled with inspections, close-order drills, and sporting tournaments to keep morale high.
In late March 1919, the 77th Division received its orders to head home. Their eventual destination was the Brest Embarkation Camp at the Port of Brest, in Northwestern France, sitting along a sheltered bay connected to the Atlantic Ocean called the Iroise Sea. It was situated near the entrance to the English Channel. Positioned at the western tip of the Brittany peninsula and built along the northern edge of the Rade de Brest (Roadstead of Brest), it was a large protected natural bay, linked directly to the open Atlantic Ocean via a narrow strait called the Goulet de Brest. The strait housed France’s second-largest military naval base after Toulon.
From April 12th through April 15th, the 308th packed their gear and boarded European ’40-and-8′ boxcars at the railheads near Châtillon-sur-Seine and began the long journey towards Brest, France. On April 16, 1919, after a long, cramped rail journey across France, the regiment arrived at the massive American staging area at the Brest Embarkation Camp. They were processed through Camp Pontanezen, where they underwent rigorous medical de-lousing, final equipment checks, and administrative paperwork.
Sailing Home and the New York Arrival
On April 18th, the men had their last night’s sleep in France, and early in the morning began boarding the massive ocean liner, the SS America. Before the ship cast off, French military officials boarded to present medals, including the Croix de Guerre, to the surviving heroes of the Lost Battalion, including Captain George McMurtry.
The SS America departed Brest on April 19, 1919, and arrived in New York Harbor, docking at Hoboken, New Jersey / Brooklyn Harbor, just four days later on April 23, 1919. The ship was originally a German ocean liner (SS Amerika) seized during the war. The ship was equipped with powerful quadruple-expansion steam engines, and she could maintain a rapid pace of around 17.5 knots, allowing for an incredibly fast 4-to-5 day Spring crossing.
They were greeted by a roaring symphony of harbor boat whistles, sirens, and cheering crowds waiting along the shoreline. The troops disembarked and were immediately shuttled by ferries and trains back to Camp Upton on Long Island, the exact location where the regiment had been formed in September 1917.
The Victory Parade – May 6th, 1919 and Final Discharge
On May 6, 1919, the 77th Division was granted the ultimate honor of a massive, formal Victory Parade down Fifth Avenue’s ‘Canyon of Heroes,’ in Manhattan. Hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers packed the streets to cheer on ‘New York’s Own,’ with survivors of the Lost Battalion’s 308th leading the way to thunderous applause.
Camp Upton – Pfc. Frank G. S. Erickson’s Service & Deployment Details
Starting on May 9th, the Regiment still at Camp Upton, the men were given orders to surrender their final gear, complete their discharge papers, and were formally demobilized. They thus faced returning to civilian life less than a year after the severe trials they had endured in the Argonne Forest.
The archival details, roster placements, service roster, deployment details, and narrative records associated with Pfc. Frank Gustaf Severin Erickson’s service provide the following account of his military service.
Frank was a distinguished member of Company H, 2nd Battalion, 308th Infantry Regiment of 77th ‘Liberty’ Division, American Expeditionary Forces. As the principal runner for 1st Lieutenant William J. Cullen, he served with notable bravery during the difficult days of October 2–8, 1918, a record preserved in the historical account of the Lost Battalion.
Born on December 12, 1892, in Sundsvall, Västernorrlands län, Sweden, Frank emigrated from Sweden in 1903 with his parents and five siblings (three brothers & two sisters), to Burleigh County, North Dakota. A sixth sibling, a brother, was later born in Bismarck, North Dakota.
Before his deployment, he worked with his brother, Ernest Julius Erickson, as a deputy for the Oregon-Washington Railroad & Navigation Company.
Frank trained at Camp Lewis, near Tacoma, Washington and Camp Kearny in San Diego, California. He was assigned line number 121 on the official troop transport manifest out of Brooklyn Harbor and boarded the British steamship SS Nestor on August 8, 1918, for passage across the Atlantic. He disembarked at Liverpool, Merseyside, England.
His emergency contacts were listed as his parents, Brita Kristina ‘Christine’ and Anders Alfred Erickson, of Regan/Wilton, Burleigh County, North Dakota. Frank departed from the Port of Brest, Finistère, Brittany, on April 19th, aboard the SS America. He disembarked at the Port of Brooklyn, New York City, on April 28th, 1919.
Frank was finally home, and was greeted by his Brother Sebran, who had arrived from France a couple weeks before. Sebran was serving with the Army Air Service’s 101st Aero Squadron. He had been stationed since April 11th at Mitchel Field on Hempstead Plains of Long Island, New York. Now reunited, the brothers walked the bustling streets of Manhattan, letting the city’s post-war energy wash over them. One day they ducked into a photography studio to capture the moment in a series of portraits.
Frank had mentioned, they found a nice bar, smoked cigarettes, drank beer and caught each other up on their experiences in France. Then talk of their family in Dakota came up, and they reminisced about their lost brother, Julius in the war. At twenty-seven and twenty-three, they had served their country and done what was necessary to survive. Yet, the absence of their dear brother, Ernest Julius, hung heavily between them, a weight they would carry for years to come. They were home, standing on the precipice of an unwritten future.
The Brothers, Frank & Sebran ‘Andy’ Erickson
together again, in New York City, early May 1919. Sadly, their third brother, Ernst Julius was left back in the Ardenne Woods, as he lost his life in the Meuse Argonne Offensive.
Silver Star Citation & Combat Actions
Three days after the Armistice, on November 14, 1918, Pfc. Frank G. S. Erickson was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action between October 3 and October 8, 1918, inside the Charlevaux Ravine in the Argonne Forest during the ‘Lost Battalion’ Siege. Runners during the siege faced what was essentially a suicide mission, and any movements in the Argonne Forest was targeted by German snipers and the deadly automatic Maxim machine guns. Because the 308th’s field phones were severed almost immediately, men like Frank were the only physical link between the isolated companies and Major Charles Whittlesey’s central command dugout. Later, Frank was recommended for the Medal of Honor by both the North Dakota Governor and the U.S. Senator.
One specific recorded exploit highlights Frank’s courage on October 3, 1918: As German forces poured intense pressure onto the American positions, Company H was aggressively flanked. Frank, acting as Lt. Cullen’s prime runner, sprinted directly through a hail of incoming fire into a heavily targeted area to deliver a vital tactical update. The message he hand-delivered read: “The Boche [Germans] attacked on the left flank and were driven off…”
Frank’s exceptional bravery earned him the deep respect of his superior officers. Lt. Cullen later presented him with a uniquely personal token of respect: a specially inscribed bullet commemorating his fearless runs through the Argonne underbrush. Previously, Lt. Cullen, recognizing his courage, had handed Frank a German Luger, taken off a German Officer during the ‘Lost Battalion’ Siege.
In the context of actions during the Siege, where Frank and Company H had entered the pocket under unique circumstances compared to the 1st Battalion companies (A, B, C, D). On October 2, Whittlesey’s main force broke through the German line. Company H, belonging to the 2nd Battalion, was sent forward to reinforce them and protect the flanks. When the German forces closed the gap behind the advancing American line, Company H was cut off alongside the others, enduring the entire five-day siege with little food, clean water, or medical supplies.
Captain William J. ‘Red’ Cullen’s handwritten card to Frank dated March 1st, 1919
Chevillé, Sarthe Department of the Pays de la Loire region in Northwestern France
Company H – 308th Infantry
77th Division – (A.E.F.) American Expeditionary Forces
Co. H 308th Inf. – 77th Division A.E.F.
Chevillé, France – March 1, 1919
To Pvt. 1st Class Frank G. S. Erickson
My loyal and efficient runner whose heroic conduct is especially remembered
during the period of October 2-8, 1918, when this Company H was cut off and surrounded
by the enemy in the Foret D’ Argonne. A good soldier and a real man!
with my best wishes.
Willian J. ‘Red’ Cullen
Captain 308th Infantry – A. E. F.
Aftermath
Casualties suffered by the 77th Division during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive
Out of roughly 554 men who entered down into the Charlevaux Ravine, only 194 walked out unscathed on October 8th. Frank was one of those resilient, fortunate survivors. During the entire Meuse-Argonne Offensive (September 26th to November 11th, 1918), the 77th ‘Statue of Liberty’ Division suffered a total of 5,438 casualties.
Killed in Action (KIA): 1,006 officers and enlisted men.
Died of Wounds (DOW): 396 men who succumbed to injuries in field hospitals.
Wounded in Action (WIA): 3,923 men (including those severely or slightly wounded)
Captured/Missing: 113 men officially reported as prisoners of war or missing in action.
The 308th Infantry Regiment suffered the highest casualty rate in the division. Fighting on the extreme left flank, they were cut off and surrounded for five days during the famous “Lost Battalion” siege. The heavy losses inside the thick, brutal Argonne Forest forced the division to bring in new soldiers right in the middle of the battle. Many of these replacements were sent straight from training camps with no combat experience, but veteran soldiers quickly integrated them into the fight.
Despite losing roughly 20% of its total combat strength during this single offensive, the 77th Division eventually advanced a total of 22 kilometers through the most heavily fortified terrain in the sector, and through incredible effort, drove the German Army completely out of the Argonne Forest to the Aisne River.
Afterthoughts
Frank’s war story carries a bittersweet legacy. Writing to his brother Alphonse from the French front lines on November 15, 1918—just four days after the Armistice, Frank expressed relief that the war was over. He hoped his other brothers, Ernest Julius (361st Infantry) and Sebran ‘Andy’ Anders (101st Aero Squadron, Army Air Services), were safe. Tragically, Frank did not yet know that Ernest had been killed by a sniper on October 10 while serving nearby with the 91st Division in the Argonne. While it is unclear when or how Frank learned of his brother’s death, he most likely found out through a letter from home after the Armistice.
Despite the immense grief over his brother’s sudden death, Frank proudly marched down Fifth Avenue on May 6th, 1919, standing tall among his fellow soldiers during the legendary 77th Division Victory Parade. He stood before the cheering crowds as a living, breathing testament to the unbreakable grit and absolute resilience of the ‘Lost Battalion,’ a true American hero whose deep roots tied him to New York, Oregon, North Dakota, and Sweden, who had willingly braved the absolute worst horrors of the Western Front to keep his comrades alive.
Corporal Keen Polk of the Signal Corps took a series of photographs of Major Whittlesey’s ‘Lost Battalion’ Command. Polk was an American soldier and military photographer from South Carolina who served in the 302nd Field Signal Battalion of the 77th Division. He documented key scenes of the American Expeditionary Forces in France through official Signal Corps photographs. (Below)
It is very nice to see all the relatives in the 1917-1917 Military Service together. A remarkable chapter in the family’s history. (Below)
It is a very nice feeling to finally produce this article together with Mark Erickson. I remember when I in 2021 first saw photos of the Erickson brothers in the archives, and decided to write a small article about them, as I was very impressed by the coloured photos. A link to the article here (Gems in the hunt of history)
I commemorated the Erickson brothers by standing in the Charlevaux Ravine together with 35 Swedes on one of my guided tours, where I told them about the Lost battalion and Frank Gustaf Severin Erickson.
I sent to photos to Mark, to show him that we were at the site in France. That was a great moment for me. (below – me in the green jacket to the left)
In the memory of Ernest Julius Alfred Erickson – January 9th, 1889 – October 10th, 1918
Footnote: In my research about the Swedes in the Great War, I have also summarized those Swedes who fought within units who formed the so called “Lost Battalion” during beginning of October, 1918.
