The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1943-10-15
w.k.O.
6 & nv z

wouldn't be so PAD once tney got uSeu
to it. The Army will make you or
break you, they had been told. The
Army really isn't as bad as it's
painted, they had heard. All OF this,
in diabolically- suggestive way, had
opened conjectures to terrify the
most indomitable.
This morning, they still hadn't had
time to get over their fears. They
still had no idea of what Army life
was going to be like. Most OF all
and first of all, they wondered;
"What sort of place is this we're
coming into?"
Their spirits were still at their
lowest point = past. present, or
future.
The Replacement Center band, led
by wizened little Master Sergeant
Knowles, was there to greet them
with welcome that might dispel
from them the feeling that they were
cattle being shipped into the fort on
consignment. First there were the
conventional but stirring military
marches, the "Caisson Song" and all
the rest. And then there was a sly
and corny rendition Of the Tiger
Rag" friendly musical wink that
said, "Take it easy, brother"
Just as their arrival marks an
emotional ebb, their departure is the
flood tide. The men who came in
a few weeks ago, green and terri
fed, leave now as soldiers. The cor
poral whom they dreaded then is
now just a jerk who's bucking for
sergeant. Although they are glad
that they have been trained with
other men on the same level here,
the training center which was first
a vast and awful place is now just
a training center, all right in its
way-for rockies. They themselves
have outgrown their kindergarten.
The band is at the railroad siding,
this time to see them off with a
flourish. They pay more attention
to the band this time. They know
the "Caisson Song" They know
their own Replacement Center
Marching Song, composed by one OF
their number, a quiet little ex-music
teacher named Harvey Bosell. They
hum the tune as they go aboard.
They see the commanding general
standing on the side lines with his
aide. He is no longer an ogre out
of Washington who might, for all
they know, have the power of life
and death over them to administer it
at whim. He is the commanding
general, a good soldier and a good
fellow, and it was damned white Of
him to come down to see them off.
They board the train and they sit
waiting for it to take them to their
permanent Army post and their part
in the war.
AS a special favor and for old
times sake, the band swings slowly
into the song that is the voice of
their nostalgia, ''The Sidewalks of
New York." Yankee or Rebel, Min
nesotan or hawaiian, they love that
song.
You can see their faces Tightening
a little, and gentle melancholy look
come into their eyes as the from
bone walls beneath the current of
the music. Their melancholy is mel
ancholy with a shrug now. Home
and whatever else was dearest to
them a few months ago are still
dear, but a soldier has to push them
into the background when there's a
war to be fought.
With the music still playing, the
train pulls slowly out and Sergeant
Knowles waves it goodby with his
baton.
An old sergeant, kept in the Re-
placement Center to train the men
whose fathers fought with him a
generation ago, stands on the side
and watches them with firm,
proud look.
"Give 'em hell, boys" he shouts
behind them. "Give 'em HE'LL"
1.-THE END