The Brighton Boys in the Trenches Read online

  CHAPTER III

  GETTING INTO HARNESS

  "Compn-eee, atten-tion!"

  These were the first words of any significance that greeted HerbertWhitcomb and Roy Flynn when they alighted from a long train and tooktheir first and interested view of an army encampment.

  But all along--in fact, ever since they entered the train in anotherstate, at Roy's home town of Listerville--the lads had witnessed manyand constant sights that reminded them of the stern duty now beforethem. They had taken the oath to serve Uncle Sam from that very June dayand they had traveled with many others sworn to the same earnest,fearless task.

  With crude, small bundles in hand--for thus they had come, knowing fullwell that equipment for new duties would be given them--the boys, amidsta crowd of eager welcomers clad in khaki and many fellow travelers inplain clothes, filed in a slow-moving line across a tramped field,across a roadway, between fence posts and were ushered into a long, lowbuilding, one of many such that faced an exceedingly wide street fully aquarter of a mile long. Parallel to this ran other streets flanked bysimilar but smaller buildings, all of them being but one story high,with slightly sloping roofs.

  There was something plain, strong, durable and altogether business-likeabout this newly made little city that spoke of utility only, withoutfrills or any effort at useless show.

  The only thing of beauty to be seen anywhere near was the glorious Starsand Stripes floating from the peaks of many of the buildings; by far thelargest flag waved in the soft early summer breeze from a great ironflagpole near the entrance end of the main camp street.

  Two trim figures in khaki uniforms and leather puttees came and stoodnear the boys and conversed audibly.

  "Quite a likely bunch of rookies this time," said one.

  "Guess they'll get some material out of them, old and young. These twohere are just kids."

  "Look like promising chaps, though. Wonder when the adjutant andColonel Fraley are going to get busy. And then--say! It's going to besome fun breaking in all these new men. Well, there's two things theydidn't have to teach _me_--that's how to sleep and to have an appetite!Me for the mess whenever they toot!"

  "Here, too! There's one thing, though, haven't you noticed, that theboys are generally deficient in? That's shooting. I think----"

  "That we ought to practise more? Sure. And we ought to have betterinstructors; not men who know it theoretically, but fellows that canactually show some skill. Lieutenant Merrill can't hit a barn door; sawhim try. Score was rotten. Then trying to show us how! I spoke to thecaptain about that and he said he was going to take it up with thecolonel and he will tackle the general, I suppose. Cap said many of themen were complaining and wanted to get practice."

  Roy had been listening intently to this colloquy and now he steppedforward and saluted.

  "Beg pardon, but do you think the very best shot in the United States ofAmerica would be in demand, then, here?"

  The two soldiers laughed and one said:

  "Are you the champion rifle---?"

  "Not I. But my friend here is all o' that. He can beat the chump whoinvented the gun. Take it from me, he can 'most knock the eye out of amosquito at a hundred----"

  "Oh, cut the comedy, old man!" Herb shouted. "They send a man to theguard-house here for less. We've got to learn more than how to shoot."

  "Right; you do!" answered one of the soldiers, making a quick andevidently satisfactory appraisal of Herbert. "But we don't have aguard-house here; remember that. We go on the honor system. As soon asyou fellows get assigned and get your uniforms, which'll take somelittle time----"

  "We have a letter here for the commanding general that I'll bet he'll bedyin' to read!" declared Roy quickly.

  "Oh, then, you'd better go to headquarters first of all. See that lowbuilding with the people sitting outside? Tell one of the aides therewho you are; he'll fix you."

  The Brighton lads were a little surprised and much pleased with thealmost sudden absence of red tape. In a short time they confronted thecamp commander and that personage proved to be far more kindly than hisrather severe appearance and abrupt manner indicated. He seemed to takean especial interest in the boys, spoke to them briefly of their schooland home life, uttered a short, though heartfelt "Too bad!" whenlearning that Herbert was an orphan and after an order to an aiderespecting the two ended with:

  "You shall be enrolled at once and placed, boys. There is much for youto learn. I will keep you both in mind and a little later on I want towitness your skill at shooting. We have too little ability here in thatart."

  The "little later" proved to be long over a month, in which time bothboys had become privates in Company H, Officers' Corps, as far as thesimpler requirements of knowing how to obey commands could take them.But they had soon learned that Camp Wheeler was partly an officers'training camp; that they had to study and practise and drill and listento lectures and practise some more and study some more for many, manyhours each day and that they were always ready for the wholesome,plentiful food and the comfortable cot at night, finding the enforcedsilence, after taps were sounded, not a whit unreasonable.

  There was some little time off and then leave on Sundays when the boys,sometimes with others of their company, or more often by themselves,walked to the mile-distant town and bought sweets, knicknacks, icecream, sundaes and other toothsome articles of the kind, craving alittle novelty after the rather plain diet of the camp. Some there werewho craved a little more than novelty and who sought it in ways that thelaw of neither town nor camp permitted. For it was known that thesection around camp was, so-called, "dry."

  Then Captain Leighton of Company H, as did all the others in command ofsuch units, give the boys a little talk.

  "You men," he said, "have the Y. M. C. A. and the Knights of Columbus asrefining elements and spiritual aids. You have your chaplain, who isstrong in sympathy and noble in precept. Above all, you have yourintegrity, your consciences, your pleasure in clean living as remindersof what is necessary in the conduct of an officer and a gentleman. Ofthis we have spoken before and also of that which is down deep in yourhearts, sterling patriotism and the desire to win this war. And thisdoes not mean drilling and discipline and method only. It means cleanliving; it does not expect of you only bravery, courage to face a foe,but manliness in every way. We all hope not only for good conduct inourselves, but also to teach it by word and example to others. This allis the test of patriotism of a practical, battle-winning kind.

  "Our general has requested those of us now in command of you, as youlater will be in command, to talk to you about these matters andparticularly in relation to the tendency to obtain and partake ofintoxicants. Liquor is a trouble bringer, a brain stealer, a disgustinghabit maker and you want to get away from it as you would from a Germanwith a bayonet, killing it first, however, with your moral automatic.And now, I want all of you who favor these sentiments to respond withthree rousing cheers for Lieutenant Total Abstinence. Are you ready?Hip, hip----"

  The chorus of approval rang out with no uncertain sound; it seemed to beunanimous, beyond a doubt. But Herbert noticed, glancing once around,that here and there some of the fellows expressed in their faces thatthey were not in accord with the prevailing opinion. They had in someway been adversely prejudiced; perhaps were the sons of saloon keepers,brewers or distillers; perhaps had come from homes where unthinkingparents had admitted the stuff to sideboard and table.

  Among these dissenters was one Martin Gaul, a dark-skinned son offoreign parentage. He was morose, stubborn, and much inclined to bequarrelsome. Almost upon first acquaintance he had shown a marked andexceedingly unjust antagonism toward Roy. With Herbert, on the otherhand, he had an inclination to be unduly friendly, even to the extent oftoadying. But Herbert, ever loyal to his chum, treated this with colddisdain or deserved sarcasm.

  Returning from the town one Sunday evening, the two boys overtook threeothers in khaki walking slowly ahead of them. One was talking loudly,with much unnecessary laughter; the others
were grumbling, evidentlydisposed to disagree about something; one surely had a very decidedgrouch.

  Herb nudged Roy. "Gaul ahead there," he said, "and Phillips. I wonderthat Billy mixes in with that chump. Who's the other fellow?"

  "Not of Company H. Some other bad egg from another bit of thealphabet," Roy remarked. "Come on, let's steer a course to leeward ofthem; the sidewalk mebbe can stand it."

  "No, let's hang back a minute; or cross the street. Gaul's in a mood, Itake it, to start a quarrel with you. I think they've all beendrinking."

  But walk as slowly as they did, they could hardly help drawing nearer,and then suddenly Herbert, though having just counseled prudence in hisfriend, darted forward and seized an object held up between Gaul andyoung Billy Phillips. Too much of this passing had made the triocareless of discovery.

  Phillips ducked and dodged clumsily, as though expecting seizurehimself, but Gaul turned fiercely to confront Herbert, the half-emptiedwhisky bottle gripped in the latter's hand.

  "Oh, you! Now that ain't a very nice trick to play on a fellow, unlessyou want a pull at it yourself. In that case you're most welcome, oldtop."

  Herb did not reply to Gaul, but addressed Phillips: "Billy, you're ablamed fool to disobey orders in this way and go against common senseand decency. You know you're not that kind of a chap, in the firstplace. Time to cut it out."

  Roy Flynn took a hand in the conversation.

  "Birds of a feather do not always flock together, it would seem," hesaid. "At least, not in your case, Phillips. Evil associations gather nomoss and a rolling stone corrupts good manners. You ought to know that,me lad."

  "Are you meaning to sling any insults by that?" Gaul suddenly exploded."Mebbe you want a slam on the jaw, which you're liable to get!"

  "Never a bit! But I reckon you're electioneering to elect trouble."

  "You can't make no trouble for me, you red-headed Mick! I think I'lljust take a fall out o' you, anyway." Saying which Gaul advanced uponRoy.

  "You're on, me lad," was Flynn's rejoinder.