After graduating from Harvard University, Franklin became a lawyer in Ohio; where his family originated. By the time the war involved America, Franklin was a Senator representing his state in Washington D.C. He voted for America joining the war effort and supported President Woodrow Wilson's conscription draft in 1917. As a result of these decisions, Stanley and Roy were forced to participate in the war efforts in July of that year.
Mrs. Riddle was sick with fright the day the two boys set off for boot camp. Mr. Riddle did his best to comfort his distraught wife, and Roy assured Mrs. Riddle that he would protect Stanley keeping him close at all times. After quick handshakes with Sheriff Dawson and a surprisingly short prayer by Pastor James, Stanley and Roy waved goodbye from the window as their train headed east out of town.
Throughout boot camp, Stanley and Roy were inseparable, so the Army assigned them to the same artillery unit. Loaded with fifty pounds of gear, the two men set sail for Europe in early 1918. Because of their older age, they were initially assigned to cover rear units and not face the front lines. As their artillery unit traveled closer to the heart of the war, Stanley spent his days writing letters to his mother detailing their adventures.
Aside from the smoke and loud explosions all around their position, Stanley and Roy's group were initially surprised by the lack of gunfire. The scorched earth was barren and smoldering with countless dead bodies of various uniforms strewn across the battlefield. Barbed wire zigzagged across the battlefield, making movement slow as the men worked their way toward the front lines. Each day, the intensity of the fight increased. Several times the enemy lobbed gas bombs their direction and soldiers scattered for cover. Following each incident, Roy would always ensure Stanley's protection. The stench was awful; they had not bathed in months, and the numbers in their artillery unit dwindled slightly lower with each passing skirmish.
Somehow, Roy and Stanley's unit became separated from the rest of the fighting forces. The Germans, who had monitored the detached group, began their assault early one morning overrunning their position in a matter of an hour. The lieutenant instructed the Sergeant to pull his men back, but the Germans kept pushing them into a tighter corner. Gunfire erupted in all directions. At one point, several brave Germans scaled into the American's trench wielding clubs with nails and began striking the American's, leaving gaping head wounds. Stanley shot two of the Germans dead and used his bayonet to kill a third.
Sending signals from opposite ends of their trench, Roy and Stanley made assurances everything was okay. Then out of nowhere, an object flew above their heads and landed in the middle of the soldiers. Someone screamed out, "GRENADE!" and men trampled each other in an attempt to clear the explosive device. Roy found himself buried beneath several bodies piled on top of his small hiding spot. Hearing the muffled explosion, everyone immediately thought it was a dud. After regrouping and getting themselves into a defensive position, Roy noticed the absence of Stanley. He raced toward where he saw Stanley last and pushed into several soldiers standing in a tight group.