New-York tribune. [volume], August 18, 1918, Page 3, Image 21

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THE SEGON D SAILING OF THE MAYFLOWER
Splendid Pageant of Youth,
Deadly Silent and Soft-Spoken,
Who Know Their Job Is to Kill
Huns
Kipling Writes of American Army Abroad
In Addition to Ordinary Male
Wrath U. S. Soldiers Have
Woman-Taught Delicacy, Doubly
Dangerous to a Bully
By Rudyard Kipling
( Copyrighted 1918, by Rudyard Kipling)
(Copyrighted 191S, by The Tribune Association {New York Tribune)
\CopyriglUed i? Great Britain and Canada. AV rights reserved)
//fT^HE word of the Lord b;
?? 1 night to the watching Pi]
?*? grims came."
Emerson Iklics, a Wincheste
"man," was walking down Higl
Street. Armed Americana had beei
familiar to him for months past, bu
he and his top hat were strange:
than Peruvian Incas to a newly ar
rived contingent of the America?.
army.
Never in their lives had they seei
the like of this infant Sphinx, ant
they called softly upon their horn?
gods to bear witness that he was a;
inconceivably a fact as the rest ol
the new world they had been de
canted into twenty-four hours ago
The roll of the ship and the ratth
of the wheels were still on them
they talked to each other of then
transport's station in the convoj
much as new boys at school compart
notes with those who came dowi
with them in the same train, the
train that at least started frorr
home. They had nothing to cling tc
save the points of the compass.
The sun still set in the west, but
even he, instead of going to bed de?
cently at 6 or 7, hung around star?
ing in these strange skies half the
night through. THAT was the out?
standing marvel to them so far;
that and the desperate speed at
which they had been whirled hither.
'"Forty and even fifty miles an hour,
sir, with only three stops," had
they come.
Their Salute
Was So Different
Their faces were all clean-shaven,
their voices startlingly low-pitched,
and the next most noticeable thing
?was their salute, which is wholly
different from any in our varie?
gated repertoire.
A wounded private picked out a
couple of young officers and extend?
ed to them the full, true and very
particular salute of His Majesty's
Brigade of Guards. So does a pro?
fessor emeritus greet a beginner in
the schools. Both officers returned
it together, each glancing sideways
to see if the other was correct. Fif?
teen seconds later another wounded
private put them through it again.
A major of the regular army with
whom I had foregathered smiled.
"Your men do it on purpose," said
be.
"Wouldn't you, if you had the
chance? It does our boys a lot of
good."
The youngsters removed them?
selves. An American military po?
liceman (straight out of "Life"),
twirling his locustwood club of of?
fice, strolled across the street to
confer with the English policeman
(straight out of "Punch"). A rifle?
man looked at them.
"Gawd's truth," said he from his
appreciative soul. And God's truth
indeed it was, as much as the young
W. A. A. C. driving the elderly U.
S. colonel in a car, and honking be?
hind an Air Service lorry, who in
turn was honking to warn an Amer?
ican squad coming back from a
promenade that she meant to turn
in front of them. The English po?
liceman raised his hand, the subal?
tern halted his men. One could feel
his embarrassment when the smooth?
faced English houses all of a row
echoed the uncertainly pitched word
of command.
Suppose the
Tables Turned
k But suppose you had been
snatched from, say, the suburbs of
Coventry, and after three weeks
turned down at a place called Mor
ristown, New Jersey, with orders to
take your platoon, which till then
had never seen traffic pass to the
right, from the railway Btation to
the golf club. Would your voice be
at its most professional the first
time? "That's doing 'em good, too,"
was the major's comment.
A fellow officer at his elbow
groaned :
"What'.s the American for three?
pence halfpenny? I've been buy?
ing postcard?."
Said the major to me: "Your
Brtish currency i? like our uniform:
too conservative."
"Where does your salute come
>om?" I demanded.
"Pre-Revolutionary time?. Copied
from the English of that date, I bc
*kv?, ])?ve our collarn." He fingered
'if, neatly hooked stock. "Will
nave to scrap this when we get to
boahxtM,"
The detachment pawed. Taken
*t lar*'? they seemed to be more
well covered than the laat genera?
tion.
"That's only ?hip suet," said the
major. "We'll hike it off 'em in a
week."
"No," I said, "it's more than that
They're naturally fatter than their
fathers."
"Maybe. Their fathers worked
hard enough to give 'em a good time,
but / think it's the way our uniforms
are built. Our tunics ye too short.
Our hats are no good for this job
either."
They wore the chin strap behind,
Harrow fashion, and the four dim?
ples in the crown faithfully collect?
ed the rain. The eyes under the
broad brims swept the street, taking
in everything, full of curiosity and
comparison, all mixed up with that
defensive "mustn't - give - myself -
away" attitude that you see on the
face of a new boy at school. Our
own flocks when they first piled in
from the dominions had something
of the same look, but, being at home,
lost it early.
While I watched an Australian,
evidently on leave,' bore up the
street. He had been a new boy three
thousand years ago, so with his na?
tional air of wrapping illimitab'e
deserts around him he stood and re?
viewed them for a while all by him?
self. The major had the situation
at a glance.
"Well," he said, "he's got the
right to. He's graduated."
That detachment wa? one minute
; link of the chain that rattles through
Winchester day and night. They
pour in here from the ports, go to
camp, walk out for a few days, then
-with full packs depart. The slope
of High Street shows them continu?
ously in ascending and descending
columns like hay on mechanical car?
riers. They are deadly quiet and
low-spoken, and as direct as their
ancestors.
They Know What
Their Work Is
They are here to help to kill the
Germans. They say it without any
heat. We have been four years
"fighting the enemy," and even now
our press talks like en embarrassed
governess to an inquiring child, as
though dead Huns were found by
God's grace beneath gooseberry
bushes.
I heard the story of a regiment
that had recovered some of its men
mutilated by the Hun. No detail
was slurred, and the tale ended:
"The Germans did that to frighten
us, sir."
"What happened next?" I asked.
The voice told me what had hap?
pened, and it was not at all a pleas?
ant happening for the Hun. Yet
the same man, a minute afterward,
carefully used a watered-down eu?
phemism for an elemental fact
which an Englishman, or, for that
matter, an English v/oman, would
have got at in one word. The Amer?
icans were inclined this way a gen?
eration ago, because? even then they
were very generally educated by
women, and women's share in their
education has increased since. They
deliver themselves of whole sen?
tences, through which one can al?
most hear and see the keen, tense
"uplifting" womankind who gave
the entirely virile sentiment its fun?
nily feminine cloak.
But of all creatures the woman
taught man is quite the most un?
profitable to irritate or bully. In
addition to normal male wrath his
acquired "delicacy is outraged and
he finds himself at white-hot feud
with the system which makes such
things possible. Then he goes to
the limit and beyond, and is as im?
pertinent as a woman afterward.
Like a woman, too, he cleans up
behind him with acids and disinfect?
ants.
This, as the boy said when he
', showed up a list of the Kings 01
Israel for his English essay, is not
; all my own idea, but arose long ago
out of a talk with that wise philos?
opher, Mark Twain.
Certain Americans from the
South who by the nature of
; things could not have lain more
! than a few days at Winchester
j became interested in the statue
: of King Alfred at the foot of High
| Street. Perhaps they were fed up
! with the story of the burnt cakes.
Perhaps, for this, too, is a nation?
al foible, they wanted him for
i a souvenir (he can't weigh more
?than seven or eight tons), or per?
haps it was an act of homage. At
any rate, one night, being filled with
the collective joy of being alive, a
malady mostly incident to youths,
they went forth with ropes to gather
? him in.
I "Then," said my Informant, "we
MR. KIPLING OPENS AMERICAN YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION INN
Alter ueciariiig "open" the new \. M. C. A. inn for American officers at Winnall Camp, Winchester, Mr. Kipling made speeches to the United
States officers and men. The photo shows group of officers outside the new Y. M. C. A. hut, including (1) Colonel S. G. Jones, American army;
(2) General Stewart, representing British forces; (3) Rudyard Kipling; (4) John W. Pontins, chief assistant secretary of American Y. M.
C. A., renre.sentini? heftdnnarrers.
By Hayden Church
LONDON, July 27.?Rudyard Kip?
ling told me that he has never
enjoyed himself more thor?
oughly in his life than he did the
other day when he paid a visit to the
big American camp at Winchester and
made a characteristically rousing
speech to the "buddies" there, who
gave him a great reception.
Kipling went to Winchester to open
the new officers' inn established by
the American Y. M. C. A. at Winnall
Camp. This building is comfortably
equipped with bedrooms, bathrooms,
shower baths and electric light. It
has a drawing room, a writing room
and a good lounge, and is provided
with an nthletic department, and also
with pool tables for officers and men.
Kipling said:
"You have done me great honor in
asking me'to open this hut. At the
same time I should like to point out
that you have brought me here under
false pretenses. I do not pretend to
be an expert on huts. But I have
lived in houses, and I know that this
is not a hut, nor anything like a hut.
This is a house?a solid building in?
tended for permanent occupation.
Several years have passed since Eng?
land was permanently occupied by
the armed forces'of a foreign nation.
On the last occasion, 800 years ago,
our people did not take kindly to the
invaders. I know they did not, be?
cause I live a few miles from where
the Battle of Hastings was fought,
where all the trouble began, and I
assure you wc are still talking about
it. But conditions have changed.
They will after 853 years, even in
England. You may have noticed that
we do not resent either the presence
of your armed forces on our soil or
your buildings, such as these, which
are one of the visible signs of your
occupation." \
The great novelist and poet was
received by Colonel S. G. Jones, who
commands nt Winchester; General
Stewart, representing the British
forces, and John W. Pontius, chief as?
sistant secretary of the American Y.
M. C. A. His speech to the "buddies"
was punctuated with hearty cheers and
they gave him "three and a tiger" at
its conclusion.
had to 6end down an organization
from the camp to stop it."
Anyway, They
Didn't Get Alfred
"Good Lord," I said, cowed by the
awful word. "Does that mean
tanks?"
"No, sir. No one was tanked. An
organization is what you call a unit,
just some boys to make 'cm quit
lassoing Alfred. They quit. But,
believe me, it wasn't any prayer
meeting for a while. Anyway, they
didn't get Alfred."
I expressed my abhorrence of the
BRITAIN'S" V/ELCOME TO AMERICAN TROOPS
The King and Queen reviewing
American soldiers in front of
Buckingham Palace.
British crowds turn out to cheer American soldiers passing through London.
atrocity in fitting terms and re?
paired to the camp whence "organ-1
izations" swoop down to interfere
with the amusements of the young.
It was a standard pattern camp of
a few square miles, but they naa
contrived with the materials at hand
to give it all the spacious atmos
| phere of an army post in their own
country.
They are stiffened with officers
1 out of their regular army or pru
i motcd non-commissioned officers
; from the same. There is no disci?
pline much more drastic than that
of a United States regular regiment,
and in certain respects their mess
ritual could give points to ours.
Like the French system, this is
all very prettily camouflaged, hut
("believe me-c-c," as one long, sup?
ple child confided) it does not pay
to be casual, dirty or much of a fool
in that army.
An enlisted man of some years'
service gave me a curious sidelight.
His talk had been of hia mother in
the Middle West, of home ?jfe and [
the joys of motoring. Suddenly he
announced:
"What astonishes us most is your
regulation that no one here must
have his ammunition on him. Not
even officers! Not even for your
pistol! Take away all a man's car?
tridges. Why, he's no use. But
I reckon it's better that way with
folks as thick on the ground as they
are hereabouts. If there's a fuss,
an' a man's got his ammunition
handy, why, he's liable to be tempt?
ed, isn't he? Yes, I reckon it's
safer."
That is a reflection which would
not have occurred to many English
mothers' sons in a camp within rifle?
shot of the gray bulk of Winchestei
Cathedral. Yet this man, too, a salt?
ed regular, recounting some piece of
Hun beastliness in Belgium, picked
and chose his words like a girl of
sixteen?a most unhandy person for
the heathen to deal with.
How V/ill They
Look at Atrocities?
Next I met a few thousand 01
them, in bulk, a pageant of splendid
youth representing perhaps two
days' arrival. One batch of over a
thousand averaged 5 feet 10 by 37
inches chest, all very silent, all very
soft-spoken, and all with that one
look in the inquisitive eyes. How
will they look when they see women
and children gassed or have to put
away the remnants of a bombed
nurse?
"It is a pity their people at home
cannot realize the unending frieze
of wounded in hospital blue which
is the background of daily life in
England," one man said. "Those
boys ought to be over with us. You
don't need to be told there's war on, i
and they would do our people good."
"Don't worry," said I. "You'll '?
?,ot your share later."
"Shouldn't wonder, but we're a j
big country, and we'd need quite a !
few to go round. You've got too;
many."
The wound stripes impressed |
them, too. They judged it bad busi- !
ness to use seriously wounded men j
several times over. Some of them j
?there will be more later?seemed
to know to what we owed this state
of affairs and thanked heaven that
they themselves had had "the draft"
(Anglic?, straight conscription)
from the first.
And, slowly or swiftly, each out
of his own experience, they are re?
casting their ideas of the English,
which, to tell the truth, were first
placed in them and their forebears
by the Irish. Ask any American of
the last generation whence they had
their early hatred of England, and
nearly all of them will tell you it
was from Irish nurse, servant, hired
man or friend. So with these.
But now the wheel has come full
circle. England, stripped for the
dear life and too busy to know or
care, is laid open to them from end
to end as she was and is to our own
dominions.
Meantime Ireland, for reasons
sufficient to herself?her sons will
have to restate them for generation
after generation to every race and
color in the world?the Ireland that
calls herself the beautiful names
and strikes the beautiful poses, is
not only demonstrably and dam?
nably out of it, but loudly in alli?
ance with the Hun.
And since the boys have come to
us by sea and observe that trouble
is thickest off the Irish coast, they
connect Ireland with submarines.
Further, some of them think they
have been lied to about the English.
A man may overlook lies in peace,
but he does not care to move tow?
ard death with a suspicion that he
has been misinformed concerning
his comrades in arms by a gentle?
man who is not only taking no part
in the fray, but who also, he Re?
lieves, prowls along the. beach with
a flashlight to try and drown him
en route.
Hence comments.
Here is one: "They've been ap?
pealing to Caesar as far back as I
can remember. Now that Caesar's
come their way they don't seem so
crazy to follow him. I'm through
with 'em."
The Facts Are
Doing the Welding
One can't be grateful enougl
that neither Americans nor Englisl
have time to sentimentalize ovei
each other. The facts of the cas?
are doing the welding.
On our way to visit some terri
tories under the American flag wi
crawled through the packed jam o
High Street, parting the crowd a
delicately as a maid combs a lap
dog.
"/ don't honk behind wounded,
our driver observed. "Aro, sir. I
he's got a shock he's likely to jum
feet high. Tom! Oh, Tom!" (thi
to a one-leggqd Lothario with
damsel on each arm), "if you'
shift your folk a piece to the rigfc
I'll clear you." Tom manoeuvred th
necessary few inches and "All clear
go ahead, mate," said he.
? But if you could have seen the:
faces as they smiled at each othe
"Tommy" has been instinctive!
shortened to "Tom," which, since tl
original Thomas Atkins is dea>
seems only just. But I couldn't fir
out what we call the Americans gei
erally. The one-legged man, you n
tice, used "mate." Our driver,
regular, was from Texas, had be?
some time in that camp and kne
every foot of half Hampshire. H
travels on ex-Roman roads to pr
Norman towns had taught him th
people here have surely lived befo
us. "Yes, sir. That's what I ft
all the time. When I was in Ne
York I went to see the tombs
Trinity Church. I thought th
were old, but this country, it is ok
He drove us down "the road
the lost footsteps," the holy ro
from Winchester to the sea, a
pointed out the slab and cross p
up to the memory of the men w
had passed along it since 1914. 1
was familiar with this neighbi
hood, but how could he tell tr
every foot of it was water-lopr
with tears, every dwelling darker
by the memory of loss or the sh?
dow of suspense, every turn of 1
road quivered with ghosts?
He Knew These
Pretty Places
In due course, and elsewhere,
and bit will also have their e
mourning places, their own eter?
nally eloquent landscapes one with
all things visible and tangible in
their daily life for evermore., Mean?
time, twisting the knife in the
wound as only untouched youth can,
he bade us admire those very heaths
and bracken patches where one had
pleasured with or parted from "to
pick up securely later" boys that
are gone.
He had known these pretty places
for months, you see. They were an
old story to him, but, somehow, ho
always felt that "folk had surely
lived here before."
This was after he had halted to
speak to an American lorry in trou?
ble. No; it was nothing her crew
couldn't handle themselves. She
was a bit new, that was all. We
left her under the abbey church of
Saints Mary and Elfleda, which
may have been begun by Edward
the Elder, second son of Alfred tht
Great, the friend of the Southerr
regiment.
All the countryside is in Ameri
can occupation now, hospitals anc
camps and extensions growing lik<
their own country fairs on the fa:
slopes and their sentries at well re
membered corners.
In the silence of a deserted bomb?
ing school we met a lonely, inarticu?
late Italian, a Neapolitan four
years in New York, whom the draft
had taken and who wished to see
some German prisoners who he
understood were being used on road
making near by. I observed that
Texas called him "Kid" and gener?
ally adopted the unwise Anglo
Saxon attitude that a man who
speaks broken English must be
some sort of child.
If Texas were still untouched by
the spirit of England that of his
native land moved him strongly.
"Had we," he asked, "wen the me?
morial to the Mayflower and the
sailing of the Pilgrim Fathers? It
was only a little piece down the
road and it would be a sort of in?
teresting finish to the trip."
The car halted between the slim
pillar with its model of the little
vessel atop and a horizon full of
busy shipping. There was a mutter
of unseen movement, a sound of the
feet, of the young men behind walls
that masked railway lines, a sensa?
tion of immense concerns going for?
ward mon* like some elemental
process than any human effort, since
there was nothing to be seen, no one
to see it and not a soul who knew
anything about it.
So it has been at Southampton
every day these four years past.
Yet the loaded sea and the foot?
worn pavements knew as well as the
platforms and congested junctions
far inland, or the double-banked
locomotives shuttling their intermi?
nable trains through yards that had
enlarged themselves out of all rec?
ognition many times over. With
these appliances American and Eng?
lish camp and transport authorities,
half drowned in the flood that the
ports vomited on them, were, leading
and releasing to this particular dis?
charge gate its due portion of the
terrific head of Western man power
that gathered "to help kill Ger?
mans."
The Hun Found
The Key Logs
That power had held back and
held back from the war despite
provocation and insult past records.
banking up and banking up as its
own streams bank behind the mile
deep log jam which apparently no
device of man can make move. Yet
the Hun, with dynamite and cant
hooks, must needs blast and pry and
lever till he found the key logs
whose withdrawal loosed the whoic
terror upon him, thundering, grind?
ing and pitch-poling the broadside
of a continent, to come to rest God
knows where.
The Mayflower, "one hundred and
eighty tons," sailed from Southamp?
ton close on three hundred years
ago, with 120 passengers, "all well
weaned," as Masters Robinson and
Brewster wrote, "from the delicate
milk of our mother country and in?
ured to the difficulties of a str?ng**
land." Out of her sailing grew the
United States of America.
What shall grow out of her re?
turn voyage^our grandchildren may.
perhaps, comprehend. We arc too
near the portent to more than won?
der, as a man wonders when he
finds earth and sky and the life ha
led between them changed at a
stroke and himself harnessed to old
thoughts and old words, toiling to
draw abreast of tha ?irtck.