The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1904-08-04
THE REGlMENTAL
KINDERGARTEN,
The Caustic Wit and Drastic Tyranny
Of q Typical Old Regular.


Away back in '61 found myself in
camp at the head of a company of 100
ableboded young men, all from the coun-
try, and as green as the grass upon their
native hills. In fact, of all things military.
We were as green as the gourds in their
infancy. The balance of the regiment,
from the Colonel down to the youngest
drummer boy, had nothing to brag of in
that respect. There was only one man in
the whole command who knew how to
pitch tent, lay out camp, make n de-
tail or a requisition, to form the regiment
in line. or to advise the Field and Staff If
they should appear on dress parade mount
ed or on foot.
That man was one Pat Flynn, who had
just been discharged from a five years en-
listment in the Regular Army. He was a
thorough soldier, but became exceedingly
disagreeable when he realized the situation
and his own value.
We wanted to learn, and he was the
only man qualified to teach, so we just had
to humor him. The Colonel did the wisest
thing, bitter as the pill was. and made him
Sergeant-Major and Acting Adjutant.
>.
two hours in the morning, and the non
CONS. the same time every afternoon. He
was the busiest man in camp, and seemed
to be made of steel and whalebone-abso-
lutely untring. He got along fairly well
with the officers, but evened up with the
non CONS.
This is about the way he handled them
on drill. He called the roll, glancing at
each man in turn in disparaging and dis
couraging way as he answered to his
name. Then, with his hands behind his
back he peered into the mems faces with
an expression of sour disapproval on his
face. He looked up and down their fig
ures, noting every article of equipment in
a most embarrassing manner, occasionally
rapping out question or comment; as,
"Phat's yez name? If yez are half as
big fool as We look. you've chated Uncle
Sam ont of the rations yez are 'ating; Or:
"phwat do they call yez-Blenkins:
Great Scott! Did they ketch We in trap:
and so on until he turned the flank, and
passing behind the last man on the left,
asked suddenly. Couldn't yez ate yer ra-
tons, Dutchey?'
Schmtts, onndshouldered youth Of
German parentage. answered with look
of surprise and some hesitation:
Eyes. Sergeant"
"Oh, SAID the Sergeant-MaJ0r, II
thought perhaps yez couldn't ate 'em and
had stuffed 'em up yez back. Don't grin
at me, We camel. O'ill have that hump
off We if there's any vartue in settin'-up
drill"
The Sergeant-Major stood about six
feet in his stockings, and was of loose
and rambling build, and pulled out his
breast like a pouter pigeon. He had O
face comically fierce, a withered nose, a
scrubby mustache, and n huge and ex-
ceedingly expressive mouth, SO that he re-
minded one Of Jack in the box"
His conduct was anything but encour-
aging to his victims. Eying the squad
with a whitening contempt, he proceeded
to march backwards about 20 PAGES.
Then in a new style, a deep, cultural
growl he would say. "Ye miserable div
lis; veg MISERABLE divils."
This was not encouraging, and young
and perspiring heroes got hot under the
collar. and looked weary and as if they
were sorry they had ever 'gone for a SOL
der" Then the Sergeant-Major would
take good scriinch on his quid Of to-
bacco, hitch up his belt, push his cap well
back on his head and continue:
LUX to the front, We poor, Godforgot
ten objects, and larn that which is wise.
Number 3, close yer hid. We have a
mouth loike a haversack; hide it, moll
YeZ have now taken the first step in a
glorious career, accordin' to the way yez
follow my instructions. AT prisint, yez