Evening star., 1898-05-07
SERGEANT N|MM0, u S. A.
Written for The Evening Star by c. S. Pearson.

not his right name. was in Washington re-
Gently from the west. He had not been
here for fifteen years, nearly the whole
time he has been in the army. 1t does not
matter to what branch of the service he
belongs-he has been in them all and is
recognized as one of the best soldiers in the
service Of Uncle Sam. He wants war with
Spain the worst kind. I will tell you why
he wants it, and perhaps the most peace
ful at-any-price person will not blame him.
1t was on Pennsylvania avenue that 1
met Sergeant Nimmo one afternoon. He
looked just the same as when j saw him
in San Francisco several years ago but ii
was necessary to rub my eyes several
times before it could be realized that it
was himself. He was marching along, eyes
front in his military fashion. with the red
stripes on his sleeves and down his trou-
sers SO now you know TO what branch of
the army he belongs. He attracted no lit
tie attention, with his square shoulders
and fine figure. If he did not wear shoulder
straps III ever man deserves them he
did, ard might have had them If he had
wanted them.
There was no doubt about it, it was .lim-
mo himself. clear-eyed and rosy-cheeked,
not looking the thirty-seven years of more
than common dissipation, or at least a
greater part of it.
Or course he knew me in minute and
was shak1ng my hand warmly as he did
When LETT him to board the boat in San
Francisco. with a hearty farewell.
What brings you here my boy?" I asked
MIN. after the greetings were over You
seem very much alive. You are the live
hest ghost l ever saw" For he had told
me once ii he ever came east it would be
IN IN a pine box. at the expense of his reIa-
tlves. He had often told me that he had as
little use for the east as a Digger Indian
has for dress suit
ITS Lot my fruit" he said Il came
mere on enforced duty. special orders from
the commanding officer. l either had to
ORGY them, or desert, and you know I'm
TOO good soldier to do that. Never dis
grace the uniform l wear. Private Jones
OF Company filled up on canteen whisky
Kept on filling up. The more he filled IN
the more he thought he was a tank but
the trouble was he wasn't a copper-lned
one He was on guard the other night
and thought The Spaniards were charging
him. He commenced pumping lead into
them. They ran, after he had shot all his
ammunition away. Then the snakes took
the places Of the Spaniards, and we cap
tured him. We understood that ST. ray
rick was the coadjutor of St Elizabeth at
the institution across the river, and brought
MIN here to have the saint drive out the
snakes l am afraid every minute I'll see
somebody l don't want to, or run up
against something 1 don't want
He hesitated for a minute Pm from
the east, you know. L used to live in
Washington he said. slowly.
This was an admission on the part of the
sergeant for one of his charac teristcS was
that he would never talk anything about
himself. He had been born to wear shcul-
der straps instead of having stripes on his
sleeves, everybody knew who knew him at
all, and he had had a college education
There were all sorts of stories told about
him in the post 'canteens" which mixed him
up with women and whisky. But this is a
combination which in the army is supposed
to have to do with every man of any pros
poets who enl:sts, and was received in a
stereotyped manner. AS matter of fact,
nc body knew anything about him.
Whisky evidently had som. thing to do
with ii. for there probably never was a
an who had remained in the army and
drunk so much Sergeant Nimmo. For
weeks and weeks he would go without it,
Then for day or two he would seem unu-
sually depressed. After this would come
the deluge.
His record otherwise was unimpeac liable
The thing that made him sergeant in the
first place WAS an act OF cool bravery. l
believe 1t was in d little skirmish with the
Blackfeet Indians, when Nimmo was in
the cavalry. He and few other priVates
with a young Shoulder Straps. were am
bushed one day and charged by the Black
feet devils. The lieutenant was shot through
the chest and ufhorsed at the first volley.
Down the mesa came the Blackfeet with Il
whoop. The rest bolted. Nimmo calmly
took his revolver from his holster dis
mounted alone, stood off the Indians, and
managed to get the wounded man into
camp with his uniform like a colander and
a hole in his side which changed his right
trousers leg from yellow to red, and made
him half artilleryman, half cavalryman.
1T was a piece of luck, bull luck" said
Nlmmo, when he was mmended for his
action. Luck or not he got his stripes.
Sometimes he's wan ting and then ag'n
ne's another" as Corporal O'Toole said
orce of Sergt. Nimmo. But all the time
he's dead set ag'in the female kind
A girl out at Fort Reno killed herself OH
account of Nimmo. That is a matter of
history. 1t was not because of any ac-
quaintanceship he had with her. 1t was
just the other way. 1t was because he
would not have aught to do with her. after
she made set at him. She was a foolish
thing, of course, but her mother loved her
and did not hesitate to taunt Ni,nmo with
the way he had treated her lead child.
''Shure an it's the hear-r-t of shtone We
nave in your bosom. man., the woman told
rim.
Sergeant Nimmo heard her unmoved un-
til she said this
mo, you make a mistake. It's one of
lead. Lead is heavier than stone you
know. Your diagnosis was not correct"
was all he said, and walked away with a
bitter smile on his face.
Nimmo was in the cavalry and Marine
Corps before coming in the artillery, but
in all the years of his service he managed
to avoid Washington. until he marched up
Pennsylvania avenue that afternoon.
There is a 'canteen' around the corner,
/ told him, when he had settled down to
business. He saluted
General Sobrlety is my commanding
officer now." he said. 1t seemed a joke
Il haven't touched a drop for a year" he
said gravely. ''Oh! I'm getting old and set
tied now. No more 'clinks for ME. I'm
going to apply for the position of commits
sary sergeant. So you know I'm out of it,
The sergeant still smokes Havanas, when
he can get them. We had a bunch of per-
fectos which same are not kept in the
"canteens out west.
. We had returned to the avenue, and
were standing on corner watching the
crowd pass, and talking of old times.
DO you remember the night Crosby got
was arrested, and wanted the
whole outfit court-martialed? Say, he was
funny when he protested against the pro-
ceedings as an insult to his family, and
was going"
The sergeant's sentence was not finished
saw him put his hand to his face which
was deadly pale. He staggered. In spite
OF this he kept his eyes fixed on an object.
looked at this. 1t was a lady of appar-
entity thirty-two or thirty-three years of
age, seated in an open Victoria. which was
turning the corner. She was dressed in
widows weeds and her pale face was sweet
a