Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1919-01-03

foretell when the last man will be
once more in America, but whatever
the day of their coming their well
come can not be too warm or our
appreciation OF their service too
hearty.
And the question is pertinent:
What shall that welcome be? Is it
to be merely one of glad greetings,
the emotional outburst of a moment,
or shall it take on a more permanent
form one which will be adequate in
its largeness and lasting in its ma
ture? | am quite sure, as | wrote
you in May, that we can make this
event something that is real, some
thing exceptional and of the most
permanent value to the men and to
the nation.
| No one can tell what such an eX-
perience will have done for these
boys. They have not seen the pic
| ture of the war in the broad view
that has been given us from day to
! day. The map we have studied has
not been theirs. To them the sector
on which they fought, the valley up
which they marched, the ruined vii
| lagos which they saw, the narrow
| late blasted foreground of No Mans
I-and-these comprise their picture.
| Life has been a series of incidents,
SOLDERING, Strengthening, horrifying,
democratizing. Through these they
will have grown, all of them. They
will come back other than they went.
They have lived through years in the
months they have been gone. They
may not have gained the larger view
of the great war, being too near to
see, but they will have gained a new
view of America,
They will return home as victors;
| proud no doubt, and becomingly
modest, with a new sense of their
| individual power and new tests set
APP in their minds as to the qualities
| which make man. We will hold
them at arms length and look into
their eyes to see what change war
has made upon them, the doing Of
| daring things, the taking of ordered
| risks, the prompt recognition of au-
thority, the steady, long companion
ship of their fellows, the sight and
enduring of suffering, the hard life
OF dust and mud and weary walking
and long, sleepless nights. We will
look hard into the sunburned, hard
ened faces to see what the strange
life of a few months has done to
day ago, They will resent, maybe, as
soldiers should, the soft sympathiz-
ngs that will be poured out upon
them, just as they will make light
Of all that they have done. But out
OF every mouth and from every heart
will come the words, We'll, home
sure lObhS SOOu 10 me!
They will be looking at us, too!
| And in their look will be a query,
one thought over in the trench at
night and on the long, slow "slog,
slog, slog of the days march
| What is my life to be when | get
home? Am l to go hustling for a
job or will the old place be mine?
But if a girl has that place and
wishes to be her own mistress in tn2
| future-what then? School? Oh,
| can't go back to school When I
left ! was only p, but now I'm 81.
And l have lived with men, fought
with them, been sometimes bested
| by them, learned to know them in all
| their many litlenesses and their
| great goodnesses. Responsibility has
been mine, and the still silences of
the night have given me chance to
think and wonder why | am and why
it should make any difference wheth-
er | ever saw home again or not
am back now back for a mans life
| This America that called me out has
called me back, and it will have
something for me to do. Now, what
is to be my chance?' This viii all
he implied in the look that they give
lis as we hold tnem by both should
ers to find the mark of war upon
their young faces. And what is -
be our answer? What answer is du9
them, and what answer is worthy OF
us?
Being Americans and being young,
they will not ask or expect pensions.
They will want work. They will
want, if possible. a chance for home
of their own They would like to
know that, while perhaps fortunes
OF wa did not so turn as to bcstoW
on them the medal of distinguished