SUPERIOR--SUPERIORITY--SUPER
This word _super_ is getting its name in the papers every day in the
week. The _super-human_ effort required to keep things moving along
toward the _final triumph_ has needed just such expressive terms. It
is a last word in inspiration--big, effective--_over and beyond_--and
it fits the job we’re engaged in exactly from super-dreadnaught to
super-abundance of will-power, mainstrength, and _get there_.
When our boys went over and lined up alongside their war-worn Allies,
the whole situation changed. The _pep_ and _snap_ they brought along
completely banished the waning spirit which, nevertheless, still
held in check a relentless and overpowering foe. No tonic is there so
productive of renewed energy as the _entrance of a friend_ who quietly
takes his place by one’s side.
To merely say that the boys in khaki have won the hearts of their
comrades over there is inadequate. They have _sealed a compact_ that is
destined to shape the orderly course of the whole world for a century
to come. Their induction was not of the “make way for the conquering
heroes” kind. Nothing like that--more of the fashion of _those who are
tardy_ and quietly take the places reserved for them.
Once in the ranks, comradeship was a matter of course. No one could
hold out against American good nature. No chance that these new
soldiers ranging themselves alongside of veterans would resort
to grandstand play. There would be no chasing after the medal. If
it came, well and good, but the job in hand would be the first
consideration--and in that respect the men of the Allied armies and
navies _are well met_.
To my way of thinking the every-day athletic sports of the
English-speaking races make for _a gallant hardihood_. No braver
are they, but hardier perhaps, and more agile than their Latin
brother-in-arms because of their all-of-the-year-round season of
out-of-door recreation. Baseball, golf, hockey, polo, motor-boating,
rowing, skiing, football, riding to hounds and what not, even down to
the game of marbles, which, after all, is out-of-door exercise for the
small boy.
Take football, for instance. If medals of honor were given out for
_daring physical action and bravery_ that occurs on the “grid-irons”
of America, England, Canada and Australia each year even the Kaiser’s
_Iron Cross factory_ would be unable to supply the demand. In other
words, out-of-door sports make for _alertness_ of mind and body. In
this respect they differ from the labor of the soil which, while
hardening and muscle-making, is inspiriting from lack of competitive
prowess with _a goal in sight_ to work for.
It is fine to read about our boys over there. They have taken hold
of their end of the big job without splurge or pompous bearing. They
have aroused no jealousies, no heart-burnings through competitive
ambitions--_they go where sent_. Their inborn initiative spurs them
on to deeds that terminate to victories they least expect. It is not
a part of their dispositions to “grab all” for honors. They will
give rather than take from the credit of their comrades in arms. The
old charge of _American brag_ will fall of its own weight on the
battlefields of France. To excel is an American trait no less and no
more than their brothers in the field of action. One of the blessings
that must surely follow in the wake of the great slaughter will be the
common understanding that every Allied soldier _did his duty like a
man_.
Since writing this chapter, I came across an editorial in the New York
_Evening Telegram_, which backs up my theory exactly. It reads as
follows:
“American soldiers and sailors have won the hearts of England and
France. ‘I like their keenness,’ said a pain-racked British sergeant
through his bandages. ‘It’s good to be fresh and alive to every little
happening for you and your boys who can plunge into hades for the
first time and keep their heads. You may be sure they will go a long
way.’”
At Hamel, where the Americans went in with the Australians, Lucien and
’Arry and Paul and Tony and Pat and Izzy stood shoulder to shoulder,
one loyally helping the other. The commander-in-chief of the Anzacs,
Lieutenant-General Sir John Monash, is a Jew. Hovering over our
fighters were an aviator from Fort Wayne, Ind.; one from New York and
another from Nogales, Ariz.
Of a surety, as Kipling sang:--
“For there is neither East nor West,
Border nor breed nor birth,
When two strong men stand face to face.
Though they came from the ends of the earth.”
[Illustration: “In tune with the Infinite”]
[Illustration]