Few men have been both brilliant intellectuals and great
wartime humanitarian activists while in the midst of combat. Father Francis
Patrick Duffy (1871-1932) was such a man. Canadian born Duffy was ordained a
priest in 1896, a Vatican II Roman Catholic decades before Pope John XXIII’s modernization of the Church. He was editor of the
liberal publication THE NEW YORK REVIEW (thought to be in the heretical
modernist genre by archbishop Corrigan of New York), instructor at St. Joseph’s
Seminary in Dunwoodie, Yonkers, and a priest in the
Bronx before the war and in Manhattan after the war. He was the Chaplain of the
69th Regiment of New York Infantry (National Guard) in both the Spanish
American War and the Great War.
Duffy’s memoir, Father
Duffy’s Story (New York: George H. Doran Company, 1919), written in part by
Joyce Kilmer, gives a detailed history of the 69th (called the 165th in World
War I), including how it was led (at times by Ivy Leaguers), recruited (rather,
it received transfers from other units to form the Rainbow Division—the 42nd),
trained (superficially at Ft. Mills), and the combat experiences of his flock:
the mostly Irish-Americans of New York City who comprised 85% of the almost
4,000 recruits who sailed to France in 1917.
Poles, Italians, Germans, and French comprised the rest. Duffy’s memoir recounts the unique story of the 69th,
from the specific recruiting strategies used by the Catholic Church, to the
baseball game fundraiser organized by the City of
Another approach to Duffy’s story has just been
published, which is indispensable in the reconstruction of the social and
cultural context of World War I, as well as the military history aspects of it:
Stephen L. Harris’s Duffy’s War: Fr. Francis Duffy, Wild Bill Donovan, and the Irish
Fighting 69th in World War I (Washington, D.C.: Potomac Books,
2008).
Duffy’s War is Harris’s last volume of his World War I trilogy on
The author’s approach has more positive than negative
elements in it. On the positive side, the scope and sequence is mostly chronological.
The Prologue begins with a flashback, which captures the June 29, 1932, memorial
held at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York, where more than 25,000 mourners
came to say good bye to “America’s most famous priest” (xvii). It ends with an account of the somewhat
Machiavellian behind-the scenes-moves by Father Duffy himself to have Wild Bill
Donovan made commander of the 69th. In between these Duffy bookends of the Prologue
and the Epilogue, one finds 24 chapters (probably better had they been reduced
in number by half) whose headings are often quotes from Donovan or Duffy (e.g.,
Chapter 23 from Donovan: “You Expected to Have the Pleasure of Burying Me”).
Harris cites Duffy’s memoirs 112 times. Letters from Donovan to his wife Ruth are
cited less often, but his battlefield orders are added.
The one unfortunate drawback to the Harris book is the
lack of a quantitative historical analysis- standard fare for most social
historians today. Missing are charts, tables, graphs, and other analytical illustrations.
Consequently, name dropping in the sense of a list of who’s who in the
black; torn, seared, crying flesh.”
A very good project for a graduate
student would be to take Harris’s book in
conjunction with Duffy’s and impose charts and tables customary for serious
historical writing. The veterans of the Great War deserve nothing less.