Excerpt from From Vauquois Hill to Exermont: A History of the Thirty-Fifth Division of the United States Army
Private Joseph Simpich was fairly tired when the advance on Exermont began September 29. He had lost himself for a while the day before, and ran across the field through a heavy fire until he was on the edge of the broken German lines. His shoes and leggings were soggy from the rain-soaked dead grass and the stream he had waded twice. He was winded and in no condition for a fight when he met suddenly and violently an enormous German soldier just coming round the end of a hedge. Simpich regarded him as one of the biggest men he ever had seen, and to make matters desperate, Simpich"s rifle was empty. He had been firing it so rapidly that it was hot and the breach block had jammed. He could not eject the empty cartridge and put another in the chamber.
He lunged at the German with his fixed bayonet, but Fritz went back like a dancer, and came forward again with a fancy stroke which Simpich had learned at Doniphan. He also had learned how to parry it, and a fine bayonet duel was on. In the cold autumn rain on the open field, the two lone representatives of the opposing armies fought. Mud formed in the trampled wet grass, machine guns rattled in the distance, artillery pounded steadily away, and near at hand the spectral shattered trees and the shivering hedge dripped with rain, but the two men fought grimly what was to be the last fight for one of them.
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