Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1918-06-29
CHAPTER 1
I Join the Colors

q l' SAAhA GIt
Join the Colors
GONE Of my buddies have the superstitous
~ belief that destiny picked me to fire the
nfst gun for the United States in the war
against the Hun.
Personally. take very little stock in
Destiny. fate or any of those things of the
occult. around which sentimental, half-baked
ncvelists like to weave impossible yarns.
According to my understanding of the
case, l was selected to send Uncle Sans
hrst shell-message to the Kaiser because I
put in many weeks Of hard training. and got
TO know every twist and wrinkle in the dis
position and temperament of my French
seventy-hve.
But just to give the romanticists little
consolation, will concede that come OF a
race. OF red-headed. freckled-faced fighters,
and am proud of it.
My father, Walter de vsrila, was United
States cavalry scout in the early seventies,
and helped to round up the Apaches In
Arizona.
Dad was a red head. and had freckles as
big as copper cents. He was fighter, and
q good one too. as United States army
records will show. Hemmed in by savages,
while on one of his scouting expeditions, he
cut his way out in a running fight, using
two Colts revolvers to excellent advantage
The Indians dubbed him RED the Brave
Ny, grandfather the paternal SIDE
fought for the Confederacy under General
"stonewall'' jackson; he had hair like bur-
nished copper. My mothers father served
the Union under Grant.
There was red-haired De Varila with
Mad Anthony" Wayne, when he stormed
Stony Point. and pair of sorrel-topped'
lusty De varilas delivered hammer-blows for
democracy of the pioneer brand In the
French Revolution.
Every one of these fghting De Varilas
had freckles as well as red hair-God bless
them all
My mother was of Irish descent, and my
father French. '-..
Now you need wonder no longer why /
love to fight when the fighting is good. When
YOU get French and Irish combination,
and breed 1t for several generations on the
stimulating soil Of the good old United
States, you are bound to produce something
that absolutely refuses to let George do IT.
when there is a scrap on deck.
The Fighting Lust
was fifteen years old when the Kaiser
and his gang of international burglars set
out to crack the safes OF the nations OF the
world, and revive the chain-gang methods OF
the unholy old Roman Empire.
L wanted to get into 1t then. honest did,
although had just blossomed out In my
first suit OF long trousers, and was proudly
wearing my first dollar watch.
My hair always has a habit OF bristling
like a cats tail when scent scrap, ana
when the Kaiser started to reach through
Belgium to get at the throat OF France.
could feel that red alfalfa Of mine crinkie
all over.
The hair of some folks bristles when they
ret scared 1t is just the opposite with me.
When mine starts to lift up, I'm Just fighting
mad NY mother has told me that 1t was
always that way with the De Varilas.
Ny buddies in the battery over IN France
used to get a lot Of fun watching my hair
when got real warmed up with my French
seventy-five gun, and was pumping smells into
the boche first-line trenches They found the
effect particularly startling one day, when.
IN the height of battle put on my gas
mask After that, they called me The Little
Red Devil"
But that is pushing ahead of the yarn.
Al 1 started TO say, felt the old De
varila fighting itch when the German En-
peror began to blast his way through Bel
eiun, burning cities, blowing up villages.
and killing women and children.
Maybe it was the blood of some of those
French ancestors stirring in me and urging
to do something 1or France, put iiioie
likely It was that unbeatable combination
American. Irish and French.
stood II as long as could. and then l
told my mother l going to Canada to
enlist let her know / thought 1t was a
disgrace for a fighting De Varila to be wasting
his time going to school while a bunch OF
boodlipg Huns were running loose over Bel
gtum and France, and doing murder by the
Wholesale.
Mothers Wiles
could see that she liked to hear me talk
that way, for there were tears in her eyes
and she gave me one of those warm motherly
srailes that make an American boy in his
Are long trousers feel that he has suddenly
grown three inches taller and is man. But
Of course. did not realize then that no
sensible mother is going to enthuse very much
about sending a fifteen-year-old son into the
gore OF battle.
But she understood her boy all right, and
didn't argue with me. She snaked a freshly
TO sscoot to the back steps and gorge myself
II was mighty good pie of the mother-used
to-rnake kind, and in the eating almost for
rot about the Kaiser and the Belgians.
"A few months after rpother had camouhaged
the De varila hghting itch with mince pie. ]
was packed on to prep school at Lot
Angeles.
! found the school regular incubator fol-
the war spirit
There were a couple of English lads there
who received frequent letters from relative,
In the thick OF the nghtlng IN france. Tit
Brltishers used to sneer at us American ladl
because Uncle Sam wouldn't get into tho
fight for civilization
was obliged to lick one of them to max,
him stop saying rotten things about Uncle
Sammy. have, often wondered IL the Eng
lieher punimeled knows that the Reddy d,
variia who blacked his eyes on that menor
able day IL the same De varila who fred tn,
hrtt; shot for Uncle Sam against the boche
II he does. maybe he has forgiven me fo
the licking gave him. am certain that b,
this time he has taken back all the unkint
Things he said about Uncle Sam.
! warmed up good and plenty when ou