Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-01-10
THE TRUMPBTBR OF THE TROOP

Now all your recrui,ies what's drafted today,
You shut up your rag box and ark to my lay,
And I'll sing you soldier as far as may
A soldier what's fiji for soldier
The new batch of recruits stood about
the barrack-room, helpless and forlorn.
There were ten of them-ten strong,
healthy, good-looking young warriors who
had Joined us at Packer only the day be-
fore. and to whom Arizona was rapidly
becoming a stern reality. They had left
the recruiting depot in high spirits and i'll
fitting clothing, and with a supply of tray
cling rations that would probably create a
mutiny in this present "theOretical era OF
the army. They arrived at Packer minus
rations and portions of their uniform.
"Nothing left but honor exclaimed the
wag of the troop, land that's tottering.
They were first bathed, then fed, and then
deviled That was the unalterable rule of
the troop. Bathing made them self-re-
specting, feeding made them good-natured,
and devling made them respectful, which in
recruit was considered a necessary quail
fication-then. This is all changed now, l
believe. Some day, when the politicians
get through experimenting with the army,
we'll 90 back to the old system, which had
the one great advantage of turning out
soldiers.
"Ten strong healthy, good-looking young
warriors" said Tommy Creighton, scan
ming them with a professional eye. Tom
nv was the farrer of the troop, who knew
horses and men. Ten, and every one of
them expecting to be a noncom. inside of
a month. What is the service COM
ing top The recruits said nothing, but
eyed one another uneasily. They had
learned at the depot to keep their mouths
shut, which is another custom that seems
to have died out of the service. ANY
horsemen among you?' continued Tom
my. There was no answer. mo, sup
pose not; every one of you with a seat
worse than a doughboy adjutant." This
was Tommy's finest bit of sarcasm, and
thinking he had given them enough for
one day, he subsidized "They have been
well trained, anyhow" chimed in the first
cook, who only month before had been
wearing the first sergeant's chevrons-old
grizzled, cranky Dave Hernegan, who was
always first sergeant of the troop in the
field and first cook in the post He was
the same trooper whose reply to the in
spector of the department is worthy of
record. "How do you spell your namep"
asked the inspector, who was a new man.
81 don't spell it, sir; l spake it," was the
ready retort. Dave never could spell, but
be was the best horseman, swordsman,
fighter and drinker in the troop, and car
ried a small piece of bronze on the breast
of his dress-coat which meant more than
all the schoolmaster's certificates of which
the army now boasts. "Perhaps they can
fight" said Dave. in a stage whisper, to
the kid trumpeter, who stood near him,
ostentatiously putting at a big, black,
strong pipe which it was evident he was
not relishing. DOM look like it," said
the kid, between whiffs; and then he went
up and felt of the arm of the largest man
in the detachment The big fellow, who
was blacksmith, closed his mighty arm
slowly until the muscles stood out like
whipcords. He was evidently enjoying the
fun. The kid looked up quickly, but soon
recovered himself. mot half bad" he
said patronizingly, at which the entire bar
racks howled.
The entrance of the first sergeant put
stop to the deviling for a while. "Out this
way, you recruits!' he shouted, and they
followed him toward the store-room. When
they returned, halfhour later, they were
loaded to the guards with their kits. Then
the fun began anew. "What are spurs is
sued to a recruit for?" one old trooper
asked them. The answer is ITO hold on
with" but none of them guessed it. "Why
is recruit HE contract doctor?' was
another favorite query, the answer to
which, because he has no rights that any
one is bound to respect" was considered a
master stroke. eve always hit straight
out from the shoulder in X troop" said
the kid to one of the recruits some time
straight out, but never in the back, :"
which was the truth.
No one was ever hurt, and amusements
were scarce in Arizona in those DAYS. A
batch of recruits was a godsend TO every
body but the sutler and the officer who had
to drill them. The supreme moment came.
however, when the kid sent the big fellow
into the orderly room to draw his "sabre
ammunition" 1t sounded all right, and
he went in. He came out and the boot of
the first sergeant followed him. This was
generally the climax, after which the dew
ling ceased. The big fellow, of whom we
all grew to be very fond, was taken under
the protecting wing of the kid. They be-
came great friends, and the youngster was
really OF incalculable value to him during
his novitiate.
Now, as this sketch il really written to
put on record one of the trumpeter's ex
ploits, it seems about time to give him a
little space. In these advanced DAYS,
when juvenile heroes are depicted as hand
some, well-bred, well-dressed, and most af-
fected little "TurVeydrops," hesitate to
put the kid before the public. Perhaps
no one will like him and then my efforts
will have been all in vain. He was sixteen
years old, freckled and tanned, red-headed
and bow-legged. He smoked and chewed
tobacco, swore like trooper, played cards,
could hardly write his name. To be
frank, he was most unregenerate little
heather in many particulars, but he loved
cleanliness, truth and his regiment. In
his eyes the colonel was the greatest man
in the world; the captain ranked next;
and after him Dave Hernegan, who some
times, when in particularly genial mood,
would let the boy handle and caress the
little bronze medal, the inscription on which
he knew by heart. Some day he intended
TO have one himself; and sure enough, a
few years later-but that is not to be spok-
en- of here.
The kid was a child of the barracks.
born in the shadow of the flag. He had
been born in the troop, lived in it all his
young life, and hoped to die in it. He
knew nothing else, and was a better sol
dier for his ignorance. The first sounds
his young ears had learned to distinguish
were the booming and roaring of the
morning gun, the blare of the troop trump
cts, and the clatter and thunder of the