The Nonpartisan Leader Newspaper, August 19, 1918, Page 12

Learn Many New Trades in the Army BY PRIVATE E. B. FUSSELL (Formerly of the Leader Staff) LMOST every mother whose boy becomes a soldier imagines, I guess, that he’s bound to be- come a general before the war is over. The average mother’s son, I suppose, has about the same idea himself. And he usually achieves generalship on his first day in camp—in the form of General Police. Now General Police consists neither in being a general, with one or more silver stars on one’s shoulder, nor a policeman, with a nickel-plated star on one’s bosom. It consists in getting on one’s oldest and dirtiest clothes and going to work. Maybe some of the readers of the Leader will think I am writing too much about work in the army. But 99 per cent of army life consists of work. The actual fighting is a very small 1 per cent, and considered rightly, the fighting is only another form of work. Too many writers have paid attention to the 1 per cent. They have painted a picture of army life that is all bomb-throwing and bayonet-lunging and bloody hand-to-hand grapples with Germans in No Man's Land. Now that is a part of the picture, but only a small part. For only a small proportion of our soldiers have gone overseas. Of those who have gone over, only a small propor- tion are in active field service, the rest are completing their training behind the lines. And of those in active service, only a part are in the trenches at any time. And a soldier may stay in g trench for months, men who have been there say, without seeing an enemy. “POLICEMAN’S LIFE NOT A HAPPY ONE” Meanwhile every mother’s son of our volunteers, guards- men and drafted men, is spend- ing every spare moment in work. Plain, unromantic work, one might call it, but when the fate of the United States and of the whole free world depends upon that work, it can not be called either plain or unromantic. It is worth, I believe, as much attention as the 1 per cent of fighting. Perhaps I had better explain some of the army terms for work. Most work comes un- der the head of “police.” Now “police,” in the army, does not mean walking a beat, swing- ing a club. “Guards” do this, only they carry a rifle with a long bayonet attached instead .of a club, and they walk a “post” and not a “beat.” “Police” in the army means cleaning up and putting things in order. Kitchen police wash up the messhall and kitchen, wash dishes and greasy pots and pans and incidentally find time for peel- ing innumerable spuds and other chores. Sanitary police clean up the showers, washhouses and Man labor is cheaper at an army camp than horse labor. This group of soldiers at a Georgia camp is moving big piles of sand from the company streets with a scraper intended for horses. et i e e b One of the minor tragedies of camp life is moving day. it does not take a company long to make its way to a new location. While all seems confusion now where these men and the belongings have been set down, an orderly line of white tents will soon arise, with a company street well “policed”. and everything spick and span, R R e latrines. General police clean up the company street, the drill field and anything else that the C.70. (commanding officer) happens to think needs cleaning. “Policing,” in its broadest sense, means keeping. anything clean and in order. If a ser- geant tells a soldier to “police” himself, the soldier looks to see if there is some dust on his shoes that needs brushing off, or a pocket flap that should be but- toned down. “Fatigue” covers al- most any other kind of routine work outside of police. A whole com- pany may be sent out on fatigue to build a gutter, dig a sewer or grade a company street and before they get through they are likely to think that “fatxgue" is correctly named. There are innumerable other kinds of work go- ing on for which small groups of men are detailed. There is almost always a carpenter detail at work and the services of automobile mechanics, masons, sign painters, plumbers, cooks, stenographers, saddlers and blacksmiths are frequently in demand. In fact, there is room in the army, and plenty of it, for every man who knows how to do any job well, is wfllmg to do it and can stand up under it. There is one kind of fatigue that I forgot to mention. They call it “bunk fatigue,” and the term is correct whether you consider a bunk as a bed or give it the current slang meaning. “Bunk fatigue” con- sists of sitting around your tent waiting for some higher authority to figure out a job for you. The reason I al- most forgot it was that I have been assigned to it just once, and then my assignment lasted less than half an hour. For there is plenty of - work -for all hands today. * Some critics of the army, the old army as it existed in peace times, have accused it of teaching men habits . of idleness, of turning “them out lazy and good PAGE TWELVE / Teaching artillerymen the operation of an American field gun., The three-inch field gun, similar to the famous French “75,” is shown in the picture. It often comes unexpectedly but War Service Is lemg America’s Young Men Fresh Ideas and Training—People at Home Must Prepare Opportumtles : for the Approach of World Peace for no civilian employment. I do not know, of per- sonal experience, what conditions were in the old- time peace army, but nowadays there certainly is no incentive to laziness. There is a marked change, in any event, between the army of a few years ago and that of today. There used to be the two uniforms, the blue dress uniform, with white gloves and much brass work that had to be kept so it would glisten in the sunlight, and there was also the duller, more - sober “fatigue” uniform, supposed to be worn during working hours only. Whenever a sol- dier left his camp for a parade or ceremony, or merely on leave, he was never supposed ®0 wear fatigue clothes, which were kept in the background as much as possible. The dress— uniform, with its bright blue and brass buttons, was con- sidered the only fitting attire. THE BOYS IN BLUE - NO LONGER But it is different now. There is no blue dress uniform and there are no “fatigue” clothes either. What the sol- dier wears—whether he is on dress parade, fighting or at work—is the olive drab, cor- rectly named the service uni- form. One of the advantages of army life is that.-there is ' plenty of work, of every kind, for every man to do. It all comes under the head of “serv- ce,”, whether it is actual fighting or simply doing a mean job well. The service is primarily for the whole country, but incidentally it is often a service ° to the man as well. Let me explain what I mean. There are plenty of men who go through life at a job they picked out early, a job, very often, that they fell into by accident; a job, quite frequently, that does not fit them at all. But they never happen to find a chance to make a change and they work on through the years, doing work that is unsatlsfactory to ;:lh(;m and to every one else—round pegs in square oles. But let a man get in the army and he is shifted around from one place to another till some place is found where he fits into the notch. It may be managing the affairs of a thousand men; it may be peeling potatoes. There was a man in my company-that I want to cite in partxcular. I-mentioned sanitary police a while ago. It is one of the most important jobs in the army—it means keeping the camp free from disease and protecting the lives of thousands of men, but it is generally considered the most dis- tasteful work, even worse than kitchen police. On the first day that the company was. organized a detail ‘was assigned for this work and the man I am speaking of was assigned to it. He was a man ‘who was interested in the job; he looked'beyond the drudgery and. dirt and saw what it was all in- tended for. He did the work that was assxgnedg to him and started figuring ‘on new schemes—how best to drain storm water from the company street, how to dxspose of the greasy waste water frdm the