When Milwaukee prayed, fired rifle salutes for Armistice Day
Milwaukee has remembered the war to end all wars since the war to end all wars ended.
Until 1954, when the federal government changed its name to Veterans Day, America and Milwaukee marked Armistice Day — Nov. 11, the day in 1918 when the fighting ended in World War I.
As elsewhere, Milwaukee marked Armistice Day with speeches, prayers, volleys of rifle fire — and factory whistles, blowing at 11 a.m. on Nov. 11, marking the time when the truce that ended the fighting took effect.
Although ceremonies were held all over town, for years one of the biggest public events was held in the heart of downtown, at what is now N. Old World 3rd St. and W. Wisconsin Ave.
The Milwaukee Journal’s archives indicate that the ceremony at 3rd and Wisconsin went back to at least 1929.
At the intersection — before the development of the Shops of Grand Avenue, 3rd St. was a major north-south street through downtown — a crowd would gather before 11. At about 10:57 a.m., members of the American Legion Electric Post No. 228 (“Electric” was a reference to its members, who worked for Milwaukee’s Electric Co. as well as firms like Cutler-Hammer and Allen-Bradley) marched from the south along 3rd St. to Wisconsin Ave.
As the veterans made it to the intersection, police closed Wisconsin Ave. and the crowds closed ranks, lining the crosswalks on all four sides.
“Then the big moment arrived,” The Journal reported on Nov. 11, 1930. “Whistles chorused. Traffic halted, almost without signal from traffic officers. A color guard and firing squad from the Electric Post of the American Legion marched into position. At sight of the flags, hats came off in the crowd. Lt. Earl. C. Fonteine, in charge of the squad, gave orders for three volleys.
“Afterward, as ‘taps’ was blown, all who were massed in the street faced eastward automatically. A minute later, all was normal again. The legionnaires marched back to their headquarters and the crowd dispersed.”
The ritual — including facing eastward, toward Europe, where millions of soldiers fought, died and were buried — recurred more or less like that for at least a quarter-century at 3rd and Wisconsin.
In the early 1930s, it was just one of at least a score of ceremonies in town to mark Armistice Day, but the downtown tradition continued for years, despite brutal weather (2,000 people attended in 1932, despite a snowstorm) and the realities of a second world war in the 1940s.
The Journal’s tradition of covering the ceremony at 3rd and Wisconsin continued, too, into the 1950s. Sometimes, reporters took a straightforward approach. Other times, they took a more human angle, as in the story on the front page on Nov. 11, 1933, recounting a conversation between two vets at the ceremony.
“‘They don’t get it,’ he said.
“‘Get what?’
“‘The shadow — the shadow of the millions of soldiers’ bodies. Can’t see it, eh? I do, and have for 15 years. The earth turns, like a ham on a spit, and the shadow crawls down over it. And here it comes! Watch what happens.’ …
“A company of soldiers marched into the intersection and fired three salvos. A bugler played taps, and hats came off. … The bugler finished, and the service was over two minutes after it began.
“‘See that?’ he said. ‘The shadow did it. Notice how it froze them. And still they didn’t get it; oh, a few, maybe …’ ”