Georgina's Service Stars
Page 15
CHAPTER XIV
THE CALL TO ARMS
IT has come at last--the call to arms--the biggest thing that may everbe my lot to record in all my life, or the life of my country. So I havehunted up this old book of Memoirs that I have not written in formonths, in order that I may put down the date.
_April 6, 1917. On this day the United States declared war againstGermany!_
Far down the street a band is playing, and in every direction flags areflying in the warm April breeze. All Washington is a-flutter withbanners. The girls are so excited that they can't talk of anything else.Some of them have been in tears ever since the announcement came. Manyof them have brothers in Yale or Princeton or Harvard who've only beenwaiting for this to break away and enlist. Not that the girls don'tglory in the fact that they've got some one to go, just as I glory inthe thought that Father is in the service. But we've been on a fearfulnervous strain ever since the last of January, when Germany declaredshe'd sink at sight all vessels found in certain zones, and those zonesare the very waters where our ships are obliged to go.
Lillian Locke's Uncle Charlie went down in one of the merchant shipsthey sank last month. He was her favorite uncle, and most of us girlsknew him. He came to the school twice last year, and whenever he sentLillian "eats" he sent enough for her to treat the entire class. Thenthere is Duffield, and Bailey Burrell and Watson Tucker all off on thehigh seas somewhere. Sometimes at vespers when we sing:
"O hear us when we cry to Thee For those in peril on the sea,"
the thought of Father and of all those boys who danced with us just ayear ago, and who went marching so gaily across the green mall, chokesme so that I can't sing another note. Sometimes all over the chapelvoices waver and stop till only the organ is left to finish it alone.
We Seniors have voted to cut out all frills in our Commencementexercises, and give the money to the Red Cross. We're going to wearsimple white shirt-waist suits. It'll make it such a plain affair itwon't be worth while for our families to come on to see us get ourdiplomas.
Barby is coming anyhow, and I know she'll be disappointed. She has allthe old-time ideas about flowers and fluffy ruffles for the "sweet girlgraduates." She had them herself, with so many presents andcongratulations that her graduation was almost as grand an occasion asher wedding. Her Aunt Barbara's pearl necklace which she inherited washanded over to her then, and I think she has visions of my wearing it onthe same stage, on the occasion of my Commencement. There are only a fewstrands in the necklace and the pearls are quite small, thoughexquisitely beautiful, but, of course, I couldn't wear it with just aplain shirt-waist.
* * * * *
Easter has come and gone, and nothing of importance has happened here atschool, but a letter from Barby brings news of happenings at home whichhave a place in this record, so I am copying it.
"What a cold and snowy Spring this has been! All week we have had topile on the wood as we do in midwinter. I am glad that you are away fromthis bleak tongue of sand, far enough inland and far enough South toescape these cold winds from the Atlantic, and to have Spring buds andSpring bird-calls in the school garden.
"Yesterday, just before supper, while I sat knitting in the firelight,the front doorbell rang. Not hearing Tippy go out into the hall, Istarted to answer it. You know how she opens a door by degrees, onecautious inch and then another-- well, I was just in time to see a bigman in a fur cap and burly overcoat shoulder his way in and throw hisarms around her in a hearty embrace. I couldn't see his face in thedusk, nor did I recognize the deep voice that cried out--'Ah, Tippy! Butyou look good to me!'
"The next instant I was caught up in a great bear hug by those samestrong arms. It was Richard, home again after two long years, and soglad to be back that it was a joy to see his delight. He had come hometo enlist.
"You can easily picture for yourself the scene at the table a littlewhile later. He teased and flattered Tippy till she was almost besideherself. She kept getting up to open some new jar of pickle orpreserves, or to bring on something else from the pantry which sheremembered he had an especial liking for. Afterwards he insisted ontying one of her aprons around him and wiping the dishes for her. Hekept her quivering with concern as usual for the safety of the cups andsaucers, when he tried his old juggling tricks of keeping several inthe air at the same time.
"But later, when we were alone, he dropped all his gay foolery and satdown on the hearthrug at my feet, as he used to do when he was a littlelad, and, leaning his head against my knee, looked into the fire.
"'You're all I've got now, Barby,' he said, and took my knitting awaythat my hand might be free to stray over his forehead as it used to dowhen he came to me for sympathy and comfort. After a moment he begantalking about his father. It was the first time I had seen him, youknow, since Mr. Moreland was killed.
"Then he told me how circumstances had made it possible for him to comeback to the States to enlist, as soon as war was declared. He is nolonger bound by his promise to the Canadian whose family he was caringfor. The man was sent back home two months ago, dismissed from ahospital in France. He was wounded twice so badly that one leg had to beamputated. But though he came home on crutches he came back withsomething which he values more than his leg--the Victoria Cross. He wonit in an awful battle, one in which nearly his whole regiment was wipedout.
"Richard sprang up from the rug and paced the floor as he talked aboutit. His face glowed so that I couldn't help asking, 'But how did youfeel when you saw him with the cross that might have been yours had yougone in his stead!'
"He stood a moment with one elbow resting on the mantel, looking downinto the fire. Then he said slowly, 'Well, it would have been ripping,of course, to have had it one's self--worth dying for in fact; but afterall, you know, little Mother, it isn't the "guerdon" any of us are afterin this war. It's just that the deed gets done. I believe that is thespirit in which all America is going into it. Not for any gain--not forany glory--she's simply saying to herself and to the world, "_For thedeed's sake_ will I do this."'
"As he said that, he looked so like his father in one of his inspiredmoods, that I realized the two years in which he has been away has madea man of him. It was only that he was so boyishly glad to be at homeagain that I hadn't noticed before how earnest and mature he had grownto be.
"Within a month after the Canadian's return, he was able to take a placein the factory. His artificial limb made it possible. Richard went atonce to an aviation field to complete his training. He intended to gofrom there to join a flying squadron in France, for his Cousin James isready now to do anything for him he asks. But just as he was about tostart, the United States declared war, and he hurried home to enlistunder his own flag. He has been promised a commission and an opportunityto go soon in some special capacity, for he passed all the tests inexpert flying. He will probably be kept at Newport News while he iswaiting for some bit of red tape to be untied.
"He did not stay late, for there were some business matters he had todiscuss with Mr. Milford, and he left town early this morning. Severaltimes while here, he glanced around saying, 'Somehow I keep expectingGeorgina to pop in every time the door opens. It doesn't seem like homewithout her here to keep things stirred up.'
"He asked many questions about you and said that he hopes mightily tosee you before he sails. I told him that was highly improbable asCommencement is to be so late this year owing to the enforced vacationin January when over half the school was in quarantine on account ofmumps and measles. That was the first he had heard of it, and he said tocongratulate you for him on your lucky escape."
I am glad that Barby wrote in detail as she did, for I have not had aline from Richard in three months. Evidently he did not get my lastletter, for in that I told him all about that quarantine, and the fun wegirls had who escaped the contagion, but who were kept in durance vileon account of the others.
I wish I had been at home when he surprised them. I wish I were a boyand could do what
he is doing. It would be simply glorious to go wingingone's way into battle as he will do. It's one thing to give your lifefor your country in one exalted moment of renunciation, and quiteanother to give it in little dribs of insignificant sacrifices and pettyduties, the way we stay-at-home girls have to do. It is maddening tohave the soul of an "Ace" who would dare any flight or of a "Sammie" whowould endure any trench, and then have nothing but a pair of knittingneedles handed out to you.
* * * * *
Another letter from Barby this week. Of course I knew the war would comeclose home in many ways, but I hadn't expected it would get that littlemother-o'-mine first thing. This is what she writes:
"It is quite possible that I may be in Washington by the last of May.Mrs. Waldon has written, begging me to come and stay with her whileCatherine goes back to Kentucky for a visit. She writes that she is 'upto her ears' in the Army and Navy League work, and that is where Ibelong. She says I should be there getting inspiration for all this endof the state, and lending a hand in the grand drive they are planningfor. Her letter is such a veritable call to arms that I feel that I'llbe shirking my duty if I don't go. Tippy says there is no reason why Ishouldn't go. She can get Miss Susan Triplett to come up from Wellfleetto stay with her till you come home.
"Her patriotic old soul is fired with joy at no longer being under theban of a 'neutral' silence. When it comes to her powers of speech, Tippyon the war-path is a wonder. I wish the Kaiser could hear her when sheis once thoroughly warmed up on the subject. She'd be in the firstsoup-kitchen outfit that leaves for the front if it wasn't for herrheumatism. As it is, she is making the best self-appointed recruitingofficer on the whole Cape.
"I have written to your father, asking him if he can find me a placewhere I can be useful on one of the hospital ships; I can't nurse, butthere ought to be many things I can do if it's nothing more thanscrubbing the operating rooms and sterilizing instruments. And maybe inthat way I could see him occasionally. Of course it isn't as if he werestationed on one particular ship. I believe he could manage it then, butbeing needed in many places and constantly moving he may not want me togo. In that case I shall join Mrs. Waldon. She says she can put me intoa place where every hour's work will count for something worth while."
It made the tears come to my eyes when I read that. Little Barby, out inthe world doing things for her country! Since I have grown to be half ahead taller than she, and especially since my office training lastsummer and Father's leaving her in my care, I've been thinking of her as_little_ Barby. She's never done anything in public but read hergraduating essay. The tables are turned now. It is _she_ who is goingout on a stony road in her little bare feet, and she's never been shodfor such going. But she's got the spirit of the old Virginia Cavaliers,even if she didn't inherit a Pilgrim-father backbone as the Huntingdonsdid. She'll never stop for the stones, and she'll get to any place shestarts out to reach. I'm as proud of her as I am of Father. I've simply_got_ to do something myself, as soon as school is out.