The Washington herald., 1918-02-11
CHAPTER i.
From Muftf In Khaki.

II was sitting at my desk talking
to a lieutenant OF the Jersey Ma |
tional Guard. On the wall was q
big war map decorated with va
riously colored little flags showing
the position of the opposing armies |
on the Western front in France. In |
front of me on the desk lay New
York paper with big fiaring head
lines:
LUsITANIA SUNK! AMERICAN |
LIVES LOST!
The windows were open and a
feeling of spring pervaded the air.
Through the open windows came
the strains of a hurdy-gurdy play
ing In the street, Didn't Raise
My Boy to Be a Soldier"
I 'Iusitania Sunk! American Lives |
lLosty-T Didn't Raise My Boy to
Be Soldier" To US these did not |
seem to jibe. ,
The lieutenant in silence opened
one of the lower drawers of his
desk and took from 1t an American
flag which he solemnly draped over
the war map on the wall. Then, |
turning to me with a grim face.
said:
How about it sergeant? You
had better get out the muster roll
OF the Mounted Scouts, as 1 think
they will be needed in the course
of a few days"
We busted ourselves till late in
the evening writing out emergency
kilograms for the men to report
when the call should come from
Washington. Then we went home,
I crossed over to New York, and
as went up Fulton street to take
the subway to Brooklyn. the lights
in the tall buildings of New York
seemed to be burning brighter than
usual. as If they, too. had read
'Lusitania Sunk! American Lives
Lost" They seemed to be glowing
with anger and righteous indigna-
tion, and their rays wigwagged the
message, Repay
Months passed, the kilograms ly-
ing handy, but covered with dust.
Then, one momentous morning the
lieutenant with a sigh of disgust
removed the flag from the war map
and returned to his desk. I imme-
Idiately followed this action by
throwing the kilograms into the
waste-basket. Then we looked at
each other in silence. He was
squirming in his chair and I felt
depressed and uneasy.
The telephone rang and / answer
ed II. 1t was a business call for
me requesting my services for an
iout-of-town assignment Business
was not very good, So this was
very welcome. After listening to
the proposition, seemed to be
swayed by a peculiarly strong force
within me. and answered, II am
sorry that cannot accept your Of
&c.
next week." and hung up the re-
ceyer. The lieutenant swung
around in his chair, and stared at
me in blank astonishment. A sink
ing sensation came over me. but 1
defiantly answered his look with,
We'll. it's SO. I'm going" And 1
went.
The trip across was uneventful.
landed at Tilbury, England, then
got into a string of matchbox
cars and proceeded to London, ar
riving there about 10 p. m. 1 took
a room in a hotel near st. Pancras
Station for five and six-fire extra
The room was minus the fire, but
the extra" seemed to keep me
warm. That night there was Yep
pelin raid, but l didn't see much of
it, because the slit in the curtains
was too small and I had no desire
to make it larger. Next morning
the telephone bell rang. and SOME
one asked, Are you there?" L
was, hardly. Anyway, / learned
that the Zeps had returned to their
Fatherland. So 1 went out into the
street expecting to see scenes of
awful devastation and a covering
populace, but everything was nor
NAL. People were calmly proceed
ing to their work. Crossing the
street, / accosted a Bobbie with:
Can you direct me to the place
of damage?"
He asked me. What damage?"
In surprise, l answered, Why
the damage caused by the Zeps."
With a wink, he replied.
There was no damage, We missed
them again."
After several fruitless inquiries
of the passersby, 1 decided to go
ION my own in search of ruined
buildings and scenes of destruction. 1
boarded a bus which carried me
through Tottenham Court road.
Recruiting posters were every ,
where. The one that impressed me
most was a life-size picture of Lord
Kitchener with his finger pointing
directly at me, under the caption
of Your King and Country Need
You" No matter which way 1
turned, the accusing finger fol-
lowed me. 1 was an American, in
multi, and a little American flag in
the lapel of my coat. / had no
king, and my country had seen fit
not to need me, but still that point
ing finger made me feel small and
i'll at ease. 1 got of the bus to try
to dissipate this feeling by mixing
with the throng of the sidewalks.
Presently I came to a recruiting
office. Inside, sitting at desk was
a lonely Tommy Atkins. I decided
to interview him in regard to join
ing the British army. l opened
the door. He looked up and greet |
ed me with 81 sly. myte, want to
tyke on?"
I looked at him and answered.
well, whatever that is, I'll take
chance at it."
without the aid of an interpreter.
1 found out that Tommy wanted to
know If I cared to join the British
| army. He asked me: Did you
ever hear of the Royal Fusiliers?' /
Well, in London you know, Yanks |
are supposed to know everything. !
so 1 was not going to appear ignorant
and answered, Sure
After listening for one-half hour |
to Tommy's tale of their exploits on J
the firing line, I decided to join. |
Tommy took me to the recruiting /
headquarters where I met a typical
English captain. He asked my ma |
| tionality Immediately pulled out |