Barker, Robert Harris

Born March 20, 1894, in Hanson, Massachusetts. Son of Albert F. and Lucy Reynolds Barker. Home, West Bridgewater, Massachusetts. Educated Brockton schools and Rhode Island State College, Class of 1918. Joined American Field Service, May 19. 1917; attached Transport Section 184 to November 13, 1917---joined Mallet Reserve of U. S. Motor Transport Corps. Sergeant. Transferred, March, 1918, to 16th U. S. Infantry as private. Died August 10, 1918, in American hospital near Paris, of wounds received in action, July 20-22 near Soissons. Cited, U. S. Army orders. Buried American Cemetery, Suresnes, Seine. Body to be transferred to Fern Hill Cemetery, Hanson, Massachusetts.

COMPANY I, 16th Infantry, First Division, pushed through the wheatfields in the outskirts of Soissons on the morning of July 20, 1918, occupying the post of honor in the center of the counter attack. The company objectives had almost been reached with only slight casualties, when suddenly the men found themselves on the parapet of an occupied German trench and at the same moment a terrible cross-fire broke out from hidden machine gun nests. The company had no orders to retire so they stayed. When they were extricated from the trap a few days later by the victorious advance, at roll call Company I numbered twenty-four men and no officers, and Private Robert Harris Barker was listed among the "missing in action." The story is incomplete. We can only guess at the deeds of heroism that were performed out there in the wheatfield,---the sacrifices that were made, ---the splendid courage and devotion that enabled the shattered platoons to hold on when it seemed they must retreat. But we are sure that Robert was in the midst of it fighting joyously, madly, when he was struck down. How long he lay badly wounded in the head and arms, without medical aid, we do not know. He was finally sent to an American base hospital outside of Paris, and there in the evening of August 10, his life went out with the fading day. He was buried in the cemetery of Suresnes just across the Seine from the Bois de Boulogne where he had loved to roam during the early days in Paris in the American Field Service.

As a small boy Robert showed the spirit that was his. One winter, just before his thirteenth birthday, he was struck and severely wounded by a double-runner sled. Though suffering intensely and almost unconscious from loss of blood the little fellow's first thought was to exonerate the boy who had run into him. At the age of fifteen he was enrolled in a Y. M. C. A. class and though on account of his size he was put among the older boys, he won the all-around athletic contest. An injured knee prevented his taking a prominent part in school athletics, but nevertheless he was a leader in his class at the Brockton High School and at the time of his sailing for France was President of its Alumni Association.

He entered the American Field Service on May 19, 1917, and was assigned to T. M. U. 184 in the camion branch. He was an excellent driver and a responsible soldier. In October he enlisted in the United States Army as a member of the Mallet Reserve but at the same time sent in his application for transfer to infantry, writing to his father, "Someone in the family ought to do their bit and that bit should be a mighty big piece. The logical one to do it is Bob." He took his step coolly, with his eyes wide open to its worst possible consequences. In March his transfer arrived and he went immediately to the 16th Infantry, leaving behind a sergeant's warrant. From that time on no word was received from him, for, according to a comrade who has given us the only account of Robert's death, "The regiment was kept so busy in the trenches that only two lots of mail were delivered and none sent out." This same friend tells of Robert's service, as Captain's Signal Man, of the zest with which he undertook dangerous assignments such as night patrols and scouting near the German lines, and of his cheerfulness and friendliness. He loved his fellows, particularly the rough, tobacco-chewing, big-hearted "buddies" of whom he wrote sympathetically, looking past their external coarseness into the goodness of their hearts. As he said in his last letter, "The army . . . . . creates a brotherly feeling among us all." It is fitting that these should be the last words from one who found in life so many brothers.

• Tribute from Memorial Volume of the American Field Service, 1921