New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-02-18
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dug-out methodically cleaning out his
pipe. 1t was his only one, and, besides,
be always did things methodically.
Lieutenant John X. Wilson, 70 give
him his full cognomen, belonged TO the
--th Battalion of Canadian lnfan-
try. Before the war he had not
thought much about military matters.
Farming had occupied most Of his time.
The silences of great spaces had de-
veloped in him natural thoughtful
ness, and few books of the right sort
had been digested the more thoroughly
because his mind was not flooded with
typographical trash.
When the war came his father-a
stern old man of Scottish blood
watched his son anxiously. but was too
wise 10 speak. There came a time
when John said to him: Father, I've
got TO Co." and he knew there was no
need for more words. His boy was
made of the right stuff.
The recruiting officer chuckled when
he saw Big jack. you're the goods!"
he said, as he wrote down "six feet
two and a half inches on the form.
"Got any pals with you?"
Learns the Rudiments
So Big Jack put on strange clothing
and set himself TO learn how TO form
fours and fix a bayonet. with the same
silent determination with which he
would have hit the trail after bull
moose. John went TO it, and it wasn't
long before he was sewing stripes on his
sleeves. But he meant doing more. 1t
was the day of the specialist, he saw,
and he chose his line and hoed his row.
He has not shot at shifting targets, over
dazzling snow or hazy valleys for moth
ing; he knew which end of his rife the
bullet came out Of, all right. But
there was more to it than that. he
found. He got himself sent off to
a school where they dealt in trajector-
les and velocities. and his natural eye
for distance. improved by many a long
shot, and his unjaded intellect soon
made HIM a qualified instructor. His
colonel, a man who loved his battalion
better than himself, listened to John
instructing a squad who had only
seen rifles in shop windows until they
joined up. Then he took the six-footer
aside a little.
"Say. Wilson," he said in his quiet
way, 81 don't like those stripes on
your arm a lot. Seems to me you'd
do better with a couple of stars. I'm
short of officers just now. How d'you
feel about it?'
big Jack an Officer
So Big Jack was commissioned and
became musketry officer to his bat
TALON. In his next letter home he
mentioned that the weather had
broken, that his health was good. that
he hoped the battalion would go
abroad pretty soon, and that he hoped
they were all we'll at home. He added:
"P. S. They've made me a lieutenant,
being very short of officers
Big Jack was not aware that he was
a patriot. He did not think that 1t
was rather fine thing of him to leave
his free, Western life TO join the army
raised to help the Old Country which
he had never seen; to exchange his
independent rowing existence for strict
discipline and irksome regulations. In
fact. he did not think about these
things at all. But he saw that great
mass of men could not fight prop
erly. however brave and willing they
were, without cohesion-a cohesion
for which strict discipline and rules
that at first appeared irksome were
absolutely necessary. He did not take
out his heart and examine it to see how
it worked, but deep down IN a corner OF
his brain he knew that he had come to
fight, and if necessary lay down his
life, for the country that stood for
freedom, for cleanness, for the right
TO live in peace and decency. He was
out TO smash the beasts who were
burning villages, outraging women and
torturing children, all under the cloak
Of a hypocritical love for mankind.
Cleans Pipe Before Change
Big Jack sat in his dug-out and
cleaned his pipe as carefully as though
there were no Huns across No Mans
Land, no shells bursting overhead, no
attack timed to take place-under
nell of fre-in fifteen minutes from
that exact moment. He had seen TO
everything that could be seen TO, had
examined rifles and bayonets, checked
ammunition, done all that foresight
could suggest and energy execute, and
now he was trying TO get that obstruc-
ton out of the stem of his pipe. 1t
had been worrying him all day. After
the attack, he thought, he would prob
ably have lot 20 do. It did not occur
70 him that he might never smoke that
pipe again. Big Jack was not "nevy."
IL il had occurred to him he would not
have been greatly upset. After all, that
was a part Of the game. But land 1t
surprised him afterward) the contin-
gency simply did not occur to him. He
had been so busy with one thing and
another that considerations Of personal
danger had had no chance 70 occupy
his brain. He was a young man who
was in the habit OF concentrating his
attention strictly on the matter IN
hand.
He was standing on the fre-step,
waiting for the company commanders
whistle that was 70 be the signal for