Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1916-07-01
WHY WORRY" TROOPS ASK
AS THEY SPEED SOUTHWARK

Continued from Pare One
Turner when string Of sway-baohed,
warped. breaking, dirty "Jm Grow" cars
Of an ancient vintage were proffered the
them at Lebanon. But why worry nowT
sings the soldier, happy to be on tho high
road to action. Past unplensantness is but
memory after ALL
Philadelphia, too, Is but a memory now.
In the past lie Chestnut street and Fair
mount Park, the Schuylkill creeping with
wateroraft, the pigeons Of City Hall and
the hallowed ground of Independence
Square. Behind are the memories Of rnobi-
llEation camp--the novelty of arrival, the
hustle Of tent pitching, the gradual ao-
cumulation Of honey" atmosphere, starry
nights by tho campfire, with cigarette and
pipe nglow and the orchestral frogs and
whippoorwills making music: and the drill
and gruelling routine and the thousand and
one ends of red tape that had to be un-
tangled before Uncle Sam would accept
these eager citizen warriors az his military
representatives.
The rush of departure and the more try
ing waiting and uncertainty afforded no
time for thought. All was seeming confu-
sion as the odds and ends Of entrainmens
were pieced together and the troops and
their bewildering equipment were loaded on
tho ramshaokle train. Heavy gray military
tractors numbered to the sdlngs with their
mountain-high loads of boxes: officers au-
tomobiles sent up spurts OF yellow dust
soldiers struggled with bulky stores siz-
cling yard engine switched tho humping
cars on to the proper sidngs, while the
American flag adorning Its tender absorbed
the SCOT; tents came down like decks of
cards and were hustled into boxcars, and
the regiment, spick and span with new
equipment, marched into the coaches, re-
ceived the blessing of the little Dutch set
tlement. and away 1t went.
But all this Is in the past. Into the future
looks the minds eye of this soldier band
as home fades farther and farther away
to the rhythmic clacking Of cartruck on
railjoint as tho locomotive pushes its sharp
nose westward. There Is nothing more dis
|etracting than busy cities and peaceful fields
and sleepy hamlets as medium. all gliding
by at a rate OF 30 miles an hour.
This long caravan Of boxcars and gon-
dolas rubbing noses with vanished and
plushed Pullmans is one long song.
Buoyantly and bravely the khaki tenors
and bassos sing, They sang all day. This
does not mean that every man OF the regi-
mont has been emitting one continuous
song sinoe the rear truck slumped over the
last switch at Colebrook: but they sing In
relays. As one end of car gives UP song
reluctantly. the other end takes It up, or
launches forth In new one.
Pennsylvania. the Grand Old Keystone
State" was praised from coupling pin to
coupling pin. And q new song originating
in Company I. which comes from up around
Fatrmount and Brewerytown, was done,
almost TO tho dying point. This 10 the way
It goes to tho air of "Mandalay":
I'm on my way to Mexico;
I'm going to show those greasers what we
know.
We're going to fight both day and night
For the dear old Stars and Stripes.
Hear them cannons roar,
See them greasers fall,
For Company don't give damn
For Mexico-that's all I"
The gentler warriors enunclate darn