The one hundredth anniversary of the start of World War I is significant to me and my family because a doughboy earned his American citizenship as a result.
That doughboy was my grandfather, Antonio Ruvolo.
What’s a doughboy? Click to Tweet
“Doughboy is an informal term for a member of the United States Army or Marine Corps, especially members of the American Expeditionary Forces in World War I.
The term dates back to the Mexican–American War of 1846–48, after observers noticed U.S. infantry forces were constantly covered with chalky dust from marching through the dry terrain of northern Mexico, giving the men the appearance of unbaked dough.” (Thanks Wikipedia)
My grandfather probably didn’t know that because he was a Sicilian immigrant to the United States working in a Chicago paint factory when he was drafted into the US Army on October 4, 1917 at the age of 27.
He’d come to the United States from Milazzo, Sicily ten years earlier in hopes of securing a fortune, or at least enough to live on, and return home to his family. It was harder and took longer than anyone realized.
By the time he was drafted, he’d decided he liked America.
In fall 1917, he was sent to Rockford, Illinois where he spent a month drilling and waiting for enough recruits to gather before they were shipped to Houston, Texas. Army pay was $30 a month.
As soon as they arrived, a call went out for carpenters and engineers. Owing to his past experience with machinery, Antonio qualified and was assigned to Company F, 108th Engineer Battalion.
(My grandfather left school at eight. He had a natural aptitude for fixing things.)
Army Life
Four days after their arrival in Texas, the recruits were sent on a day-long march through woods and streams. As he marched, Antonio’s head started spinning and he had difficulty finishing the trek.
Because the Army had yet to issue uniforms, they had to remain in their wet clothing upon their return to camp. Antonio argued with his sergeant about the need to get into dry clothes, but was ignored.
His headache grew worse and was followed by dizziness, excruciating pain, blindness and a stiff neck. He vomited all night.
He was unable to get up the next morning and didn’t make it to roll call. The sergeant came looking for him and sent him to sick bay. His temperature was 104.
Antonio did not improve and three days later was sent to the hospital. A week later they did a spinal tap and reached a diagnosis: spinal meningitis.
In those days before antibiotics, spinal meningitis often caused death or permanent damage to vision, hearing and the brain.
He spent 45 days in the hospital.
The army doctors later told the doughboy he had “gone behind the cemetery gates and back.”
He returned to his company in early December, but was too weak to drill and couldn’t physically handle the training.
The Army put him into a new division calling for cooks and sent Antonio to Cook and Bakery School at the Presidio in San Francisco.
His original division, the 33rd Infantry, went to France where they fought in the bloody Meuse-Argonne Offensive.
Many did not return from “over there.”
The Presidio
During World War I, San Francisco’s Presidio processed and trained recruits and officers. A railroad track went all the way into the camp and was busy for the duration of the war.
Antonio spent six months in the San Francisco school cooking for the recruits. This was long before the Golden Gate bridge was built, and the Presidio sits at the northern most point of the peninsula. It was cold and often foggy out there!
Always a curious man who loved to learn, Antonio visited other parts of the city during his time off–noting the city still had plenty of damage left over from the devastating 1906 earthquake!
In those days, Army cooks worked over oil stoves in camp and over pits on the rifle range.
They worked in two shifts, the first starting at 4 am. He commented that they cooked a lot of potatoes, roast beef, beans, goulash, stew, macaroni and cheese, and scrambled eggs. The menus were planned by the company commander using the food issued for the day.
While there, Antonio put in his application to become an American citizen. Only those who could read and write were permitted citizenship. He’d gone to night school in Chicago and made the grade.
He received his citizenship papers on June 24, 1918. The war ended November 11 and Antonio was discharged from the army on Christmas Eve. He was the train cook all the way back to Chicago.
A doughboy honored in his old age
Pvt Antonio Ruvolo returned to the Presidio for Veteran’s Day 1979. When the public affairs officer discovered he was probably one of the oldest surviving veterans from WWI, he arranged for the old doughboy to have a tour and lunch as a special guest of the post commander.
He had a wonderful time!
During a tour of the mess hall, he was asked about the differences. Antonio laughed. “When the soldiers didn’t eat what was served in my day, they had the same thing served the next day. No leftovers were thrown out!”
(One of the reporters covering the story noted “he was probably the one most familiar with the guns and equipment they saw in the Presidio museum!)
My grandfather died shortly before his 103rd birthday. We’ve always been amazed that a man who should have died in 1917 lived so long.
His army service provided our family with American citizenship and is the key to our successes.
I’ll always be sorry the war to end all wars ended so badly for so many people around the globe. For our family, however, it was just the beginning.
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A doughboy earns his citizenship through WWI service. Click to Tweet
jimlupis77 says
What a fascinating story, Michelle. You are so blessed to have your grandfather live to 103.