| | 1ST CL. PVT. DAVID BITTKER
Serial No. 2,983,034
Detroit, Mich.
David Bittker enlisted June 25, 1918, and was assigned to Battery B.
The Battery did not come to know him, however, until after arrival in France. Dave, as he was affectionately called by the boys, never had anything he would not share with the others. Big-hearted and witty, as well as generous, he also had the attributes of a good politician. He liked to kid the Top Sergeant and made him like it. Pulled wires with Sergt. Schmuck to put him on telephone detail and succeeded in getting on B. C. detail.
Dave was a good bargainer, after the order of his race, and became the “Purchasing Agent” of the Battery, since he could get luxuries, such as candy, figs, marmalade, jam, French bread, cheese, and so forth when it was thought impossible.
Bittker’s comrades will hardly think of him without fancying they hear his shrill, far-carrying voice in imitation of the English—”Hi si-ay Cockney ‘ow are you?” On one occasion his habit of saying original things in season and out of season will be recalled.
After the armistice it was not an unusual thing for the Battery to be ordered to take a full pack hike of ten miles, marching at attention. Why this was done cannot be guessed. Army regulations do not call for a body of troops to march “at attention” carrying pack. Regulations do call for a march of fifty minutes, and rest ten, but rest on these marches was not given as prescribed. Several of these hikes brought the mental attitude of the Battery to a state of almost mutiny. On one of them, rest was finally given after one hour and a half. Many remarks were made by the men in the hearing of their commanding officers of a threatening and vitriolic character. In the midst of this Dave raised a laugh by saying solemnly:
“I’ve seen it keep up like this for hours and hours and h-o-u-r-s, and then get worse.” No man did more to please others than did Dave, and his illuminating nature will always be remembered by the fellows.
At the front he aided Corp. VandeBunte in making a hazardous reconnaissance in face of enemy fire in broad daylight. His duty was also to repair disabled wires under shell-five and gas. Out in “No Man’s Land,” on one of these occasions, when shells were falling dangerously near, he sought shelter of a tree. Even in this situation he displayed his poise and sense of humor; asked if he was all right, he called back, “Yes, but I can already see the angels.” After a minute he cautiously announced that they were flirting with him.
Dave did not like horses—anything but horses for Dave, but Fate drew him for an assignment in the Stable Detail. Cleaning roads, cleaning anything but horses, so with his characteristic diplomacy by some means he got himself transferred to special duty at Hippodrome, a high-sounding name for the improvised theater. He qualified for a carpenter, though he hardly knew how to hold a hammer properly, and was put to work renovating the building that was to furnish us our shows.
At Coetquidan the Battery qualified on barrage and fired over 2,500 rounds of shrapnel. During the action Dave was ordered to take Lieut. Gildart’s horse to him. He had full pack on his back and his tin lid on and he had never ridden a horse before. The lieutenant’s horse was a fiery steed, and we will conclude a knowing one as well. They say animals know their friends. This one must have had a second horse sense and divined that Dave was no lover of his kind, so concluded to give him an “experience.” Dave’s accoutrements clattered, the horse started off as though he intended to win a derby, with the result that Dave took an aerial flight of about thirty feet, striking on his head and sustaining a wrenched arm. It took him several days to recover from the shock.
He displayed grit and respect for orders in the Hippodrome incident. He had been posted as guard at the gateway, with special orders not to allow anyone to go through before seven o’clock, when the performance was scheduled to begin. The boys gathered long before that time and stampeded for the inside of the building, and a riot ensued. Dave was unable to make the guard at the next post hear his call for assistance. He firmly stood his ground and fought them off until relief came.
Page one hundred forty-six
UNDER A NEW COMMAND
David Bittker
Died in Harper Hospital, Detroit, January 29th, 1920, as the result of an injury received with the A. E. F. overseas.
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