The weekly times-record. (Valley City, N.D.) 1912-1922, 1918-12-19

the DarDafOuS Hun carried MS war
far beyond anything the human mind
could conceive and started his ruthless
murder of helpless women and chill
dren, they thought it was time to stop
it and waited impatiently for the
inevitable call of their commander in
chief. They were the volunteers.
In the month Of March, 1917, when
the call of the president was still ring
ing throughout the nation, they gath
cred themselves together in the arm
of the service they preferred, and
started to learn how to take that
which they had been taught all their
lives to preserve as the one precious
gift of God. 1t did not take them
long to learn. They went at it with
the spirit of one who knows he is in
the right, and they were soon in shape
to 60 up against any foe.
But change was taking place. They
did not know what it was, but they
seemed in some subtle way to sense
it's potent. Then on the fifth day of
June it struck the country with par
alyzing effect. Some keen mind had
perfected the draft, and armed with
this the government, snake-like
wound it's coils around those who pre-
ferred to stay at home and let their
country shift for itself. At first these
were held in utter contempt, then
gradually another change was taking
place. The coils were slowly but
surely Tightening themselves about
certain ones of wealth, influence and
political standing. There was no es-
ho tic
grace to be drafted. Bands began to
march with them to the trains. Their
names were put on the Honor Rolls.
They were given dances and parties,
and the fat Of the land was theirs for
the asking. Some of them deserved
this, some of them had left families
in want, had left poor old mothers
who depended on them for their daily
bread. These would have heard the
call had it not been for this. To those
we take off our hats, God bless them.
Then came the change for the volun-
teer, they were shifted about uncer-
tainly, first here then there, and in the
final shuttle were forgotten. Great
barracks were built for the drafted,
they were speedily equipped and has
tily trained, and were soon on their
way lover there" that cherished place
with it's mud and rain, it's ruins and
it's desolations, with it's racking pain
it's tortured bodies and it's grim
death. That place which the volun-
teer had set his heart on going that
he might offer up his life on the altar
Of higher civilization. But it was not
to be, at least for some of them. In
the great shuttle when the regular and
volunteer ceased to exist and it be-
came one great army, some of them
got mixed with the draft and in the
end their dreams materialized. When
the great army finally came to grips
with the Hun they bore themselves
nobly for they were Americans and
as such, God helping them, they could
do no other.
The volunteer was forgotten. They
had no barracks, their names were not
on any Honor Rolls. They were
sprinkled along the Mexican border,
out in the sand dunes. A life of end
less monotony became their lot, the
sand was ever with them, it was un-
der them, over them, and even in
them. They loved their country, they
would fight for it, even die for it,
but they had not bargained on having
to eat it.
Did they grumble at their lot? No,
hope was still with them. They went
about their duties with a smile, for
theirs was the kind of courage that
stops at nothing. But on the eleventh
of November, 1918, the ringing of
bells, the blowing of whistles brought
home to them the awful fact that their
chance was gone forever. Hope died,
only to give birth to desire to get
back to the homes and dear ones
whom they left behind, and this they
expect to do in the near future, un-
less their more fortunate brothers in
arms, the draft comes first. In the
years to come, when this nation is
celebrating it's many gala days they
will get their Honor Rolls out and
call the names of those who were in
the great war, the volunteer will be
missing, for his name will not be
there. He will not march in the great
parade. He will not put on his uni
form, for he has no service stripes to
show, no wound chevrons will be on
his arm, and later, where he is in his
family circle and the little boy sitting
on his knee will ask him for story
of the war, he cannot tell him of some
wild charge into the enemy lines, Of
long marches and circling camp fires
and his little boy will 60 to his neigh
Dor, who was in the draft, to hear
them.
Yes, we will even lose the COM
partnership of our little boy, because
we were not in the draft, but Uncle
Sam, we will bring up these boys even
as we were brought up, that next to
their God comes their country, and, il
another call comes we will be in the
ranks of the first, but if our limbs are
old, and withered by the ravages Of
time and we are too weak to take up
the sword, our sons will be there tc
bear the banners into the thickest Of
it. and bring glory to their fathers
who were only volunteers.
Corporal Henry o. Erickson
Private Frank Boom,
NJ. T. R. U. 316th
Fort Bliss, Texas
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