by Gordon Bates
CHAPTER V
THE BEAUTY OF GOOD ADVICE
During the first three days in camp the four Khaki Boys could not getover the awkward feeling of having been suddenly set down in the midstof a strange and confused world. Taken out for drill on the secondmorning after their arrival at Camp Sterling, their first encounter witha drill sergeant did not tend to make them feel strictly at home in theArmy. It served, instead, to bring out sharply to them a deep convictionof their own imperfections.
Greatly to their secret disappointment, they were not all assigned tothe same squad. Bob and Roger were placed in one squad, Ignace and Jimmyin another. Of the four, Jimmy Blaise acquitted himself with the mostcredit. Blessed with a naturally fine carriage, lithe of movement andquick of perception, he showed every promise of becoming a success as asoldier. Undoubtedly his previous, though amateur training, now stoodhim in good stead. Added to that was a genuine enthusiasm for thingsmilitary.
Schooled in the work-a-day world, Roger and Bob were also of excellentmaterial. Both had learned to move quickly and obey promptly. Roger'schief assets were earnestness of purpose and absolute dependability.Less earnest and more inclined to whimsicality, Bob was possessed of analertness of brain that enabled him to comprehend instantly whatever wasrequired of him. So the two were fairly well-matched and needed practiceonly in order to develop and bring out their latent soldierly qualities.
Poor Ignace alone seemed determined to cover himself with confusion.Drilled in the same squad with Jimmy, he was from the start a severetrial to the efficient, but hot-headed young sergeant in charge. Slow tothink and slower to act, he immediately became a mark for criticism. Hisawkward carriage and shuffling walk were an eye-sore to that trim,capable officer.
During the first day's drilling of the squad to which Ignace belonged,the sergeant showed becoming patience with the clumsy Pole's painfulefforts to obey orders. Two trying sessions with Ignace on the next daysent his scanty stock of forbearance to the winds. At the morning drillthe sergeant had, with difficulty, mastered his growing irritation.Ordered out for drill again that afternoon, Ignace received the rebukethat had been hovering behind the sergeant's lips since first he had seteyes on the unfortunate Pole.
"See here, you," rapped out the disgusted "non-com," after aparticularly aggravated display of awkwardness had aroused his pent-upire. "Where do you think you are, anyway? This is no boiler-factory.You're in the Army now! Lift up your feet! You're not stubbing along towork. Pick up your head! First thing you know you'll be stepping on yourneck. That's a little more like it. Now hold it for two minutes, if youcan. If you can't--into the awkward squad you go to-morrow. Payattention and do as you're told _when_ you're told. Every time you makea move you make it just in time to queer your squad. Now this is thelast time I'm going to tell you. I've got something better to do thansplitting my throat yelling at you."
This scathing bawling-out of unlucky Ignace occurring just before thedrill ended, he escaped, for that day at least, the humiliation of beingbundled into the dreaded awkward squad. But to-morrow was yet to bereckoned with. In consequence, he looked a shade more melancholy thanusual when, the drill period over, he dejectedly moped along toward thebarracks with Jimmy.
A short distance from it, they encountered Bob and Roger, who were alsoreturning from a period of, to them, strenuous drill. As recruits, itwould be some little time before they would be ready to adhere to theregular daily program of infantry drill.
"Hello, fellows!" greeted Bob. "Hike along with us and let's hear thelatest. How goes drill?"
"Oh, pretty fair." Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. Ignace, however,shuffled along beside Jimmy in gloomy silence.
"Cheer up, Iggy." Guessing the reason for the Pole's dejection, Bob gavehim a friendly slap between his again sagging shoulders. "For goodness'sake, _brace_ up! When you hump over like that your coat fits you,_not_. You'd better shove a stick under your arms and across yourshoulders, and spend your time until Retreat hiking around camp thatway. It'll be as good as shoulder braces."
"So will I." A gleam of purpose, which Bob failed to note, shot into thePole's china-blue eyes, as, with a deep sigh, he threw back hisshoulders.
"You'd better stop shuffling your feet, too." Now on the subject, Bobdecided to call his disconsolate "Brother's" attention to thisunsoldierlike habit. "Pick 'em up like this." Bob took a fewextravagantly high steps in a purely waggish spirit.
"So will I," came the resolute repetition. "Soon learn I. It is the yethard. An' the words; the words never I un'erstan'." Ignace's voice helda note of active distress. It called for sympathy.
"What words?" asked Roger. "Oh, I know. Do you mean that you don'tunderstand the commands the sergeant gives you?"
"Som'time, yes; som'time, no. When yes, I do, but too late."
"I understand." Roger nodded sympathetically. "You ought to take mymanual and study it. You can learn all the different commands from it.Then you'll know them when you hear them and can follow them moreeasily."
"Never un'erstan' I that book. I have read him, but he is no for me,"came the dispirited objection.
"Ha! I've an idea." Bob began to laugh. "I'll fix you up, Iggy. You comearound to me after mess to-night, and I'll have a grand surprise foryou. Don't you bother me till then, either, or you won't get it. Savvy?"
"Y-e-a." Ignace looked drearily hopeful.
"Now what have you got up your sleeve?" asked Jimmy curiously. Bob waschuckling as though over something extremely funny.
"Wait and see. What I said to Iggy means you fellows, too. Run along andtake a walk around Camp Sterling. Sight-seers are always welcome, youknow. Here's where I fade away and disappear." With a wave of his hand,Bob started on a run for Company E's barrack, to which they had nowcome almost opposite.
"Let's do as he says. We'll take a walk around, and see if we can't finda few officers to try a salute on. I've got to practice that. I almostbumped into one yesterday. He looked so prim and starchy I pretty nearlyforgot to salute him." Jimmy looked briefly rueful.
"All right. I guess I need a little saluting practice, too," agreedRoger.
"I can no go. I have the work to do," demurred Ignace. "Goo-bye. Youagain see som'time." Without further explanation, the Pole turned andscuttled off down the company street in the direction from which theyhad come.
The two he had so unceremoniously deserted stopped to watch him.Somewhat to their surprise they saw him suddenly leave the street andset off across a stretch of open ground sloping a little above the camp.
"What's he up to now, I wonder?" mused Jimmy.
"Hard to tell. Those Poles are queer. He's a splendid fellow, though,not a bit of a coward. Too bad he has so much trouble about the drill,isn't it?" Roger felt extreme sympathy toward blundering Ignace.
"Yes. He got his from the drill sergeant this afternoon. I was afraid hewould. Say, do you know it's funny about him. He's the last fellow I'dhave ever thought of getting chummy with. At home, I couldn't have stoodhim for a minute. Yet here, somehow, I kind of like him. He's so surethat we're his brothers and all that, I feel as if I ought to be good tohim."
Bob smiled. He quite understood Jimmy's attitude. Born of the classes,fortunate Jimmy had never had much occasion to consider the masses,particularly the very humblest of the great army of bread-winners.
"That's one thing I like about the Army," he said. "It's the Servicethat counts; not just you or I. A private's just a private here, even ifhe is a millionaire's son back in civil life. By the time this war isover, a lot of fellows will have found that out, the same as you have.It's different with me. Iggy seems sort of my brother, after all,because I've been a worker, too. He's a good, honest fellow and I likehim. That's enough for me."
"He's square," emphasized Jimmy. "When a fellow's square, he's prettynearly O. K. Iggy's clean and neat, too. That's more than I can say ofsome of those rookies in our barrack. Say, did you know that the guy whobunks next to that fresh Bixton is a German-American? Schnitzel's hisname. Wonder how he
happened to enlist. He's a queer stick. Never says aword. Just watches the fellows as if they were a bunch of wild Indians.Do you know what that Bixton has been handing around the barrack?"Jimmy scowled as he mentioned the man whom he so strongly detested.
"No." A faint pucker appeared between Roger's own brows. He had notforgotten Bixton's unnecessary jeering at Ignace. He also disapproved ofthe freckle-faced rookie as having too much to say.
"Well," continued Jimmy, "I heard he said that this man Schnitzel actedmore like a German spy, sent here by the Fritzies, than a Sammy. Can youbeat that?" Jimmy's question fully conveyed his disgust.
Roger's lips tightened. "Bixton ought to have more sense," was his curtreply. "That's a pretty serious story to start about an Americansoldier. Are you sure he said it? Did you get it straight?"
"Yep. I told the fellow that told me to can it. Catch me getting into amix-up over a yarn like that. I guess you know how much love I have forBixton. Bob's down on him. Even Iggy says, 'Too much speak fornothin'.'"
Both boys laughed at the Pole's blunt criticism.
"I don't like him, either," returned Roger decidedly. "We'd better allsteer clear of him. Too bad he's in your squad. He'll probably try tomake fun of poor old Iggy."
"Just let him start something. Great Scott!" Jimmy's hand went up likelightning. His quest of an officer to salute had been granted with adespatch that almost proved fatal to him. "Pretty near missed it again,"he muttered, as soon as the passing officer, a second lieutenant, wasout of earshot.
"I saw him about a fourth of a second before you," laughed Roger. "Ididn't have time to warn you. That's what we get for gossiping. We mustkeep our eyes open and our hands ready from now on."
Determined not to be caught napping again, the two bunkies strolledalong, eyes alertly trained on all passers-by. Following the companystreet for almost a mile they retraced their steps, talkingconfidentially as they went. A brief stop at the barrack saw them issuefrom it with sparkling eyes. The home folks had stolen a march on themin the matter of letters. Jimmy was the proud recipient of three, whileRoger had been made happy with a kindly note from Mrs. Blaise.
"Let's go up there to those woods and sit on that stump fence to read'em," proposed Jimmy. "No use going back to barracks. Old Bob will havea fit if we butt in on his great stunt, whatever that is."
Roger acquiescing, the two left the street, unconsciously taking almostthe same route which Ignace had traveled. It was not more than a quarterof a mile to the irregular stump fence that skirted the bit of woodland.
"Gee, it looks great up among those trees. Come on." Clearing the fenceat a bound, Jimmy forgot his newly-acquired dignity and raced alongthrough the woods with the joyous friskiness of a small boy, Roger closebehind him.
A little way back among the trees they came to a good-sized flat rockand on this the two sat down to read the news from home. Roger read Mrs.Blaise's note in happy silence. Jimmy, however, broke into speech aboutevery five seconds. "Just listen to this!" or "What do you know aboutthat?" was his continual cry, followed by the reading of a line or aparagraph. One letter alone he declined to share with Roger. "This isfrom my girl," was his sheepish apology. "She used to live next door tous, but now she lives in Buffalo. This letter came to our house afterI'd gone, so Mother sent it on to me. 'Course, Margaret, that's hername, couldn't come down to the train to see me off; so she wrote,thinking I'd get it that day. We're just good friends, you know. None ofthe love stuff. She's a fine little girl, though, and pretty as apicture."
"I am sure she must be." Roger's eyes twinkled. Jimmy's candidconfession amused him not a little. Silent while Jimmy read the letter,he became aware of a far-off crackle of brush. "Someone's coming," heannounced.
"Huh? Uh-huh," returned Jimmy, still deep in his letter.
But no one appeared in sight, although the faint snapping of twigs underhuman feet was still to be heard.
"Someone is walking around on the other side of that little hill," Rogerasserted, proud of his ability to locate the sound. For this is a mostnecessary requisite of a soldier.
"Let 'em walk." Jimmy declined to be interested.
"Just for curiosity, I'm going to see who it is." Roger rose andstrolled quietly toward the crest of the hill. Three minutes later hewas back, his usually serious face all smiles. "Come here," he called inan undertone. "Want to see something funny? Go cat-footed, though. Lethim hear you and the show will be over!"