OFF TO CAMP STERLING
One o'clock of a sunshiny September afternoon saw a company of young men
marching by twos down a long wooden platform, on each side of which rose
waiting trains. Though still in civilian clothing, their careers as
soldiers had fairly begun. Through the iron gates of the station
streamed after them another procession of a somewhat different order.
Though it numbered a few men, it consisted chiefly of anxious-faced
women both young and elderly, who had come out that afternoon to wish
the newly enlisted soldiers Godspeed before their start for Camp
Sterling.
Well toward the end of the little double line were Jimmy Blaise and
Roger Barlow. A little over a week had passed since that eventful
Saturday afternoon when the two boys had driven to the recruiting
station in Jimmy's car. Uncle Sam had indeed been willing to number them
among his daily growing host of young patriots. They had passed through
the ordeal of a rigid examination with flying colors. Having gone thus
far in the process of enlistment, they had since been impatiently
waiting for the summons that would call them to a training camp, there
to undergo a final test, take the oath of allegiance and begin
soldiering in earnest. Both were distinctly elated at having thus easily
passed the first test. With one accord they had decided on the infantry
as the most desirable branch of the service for them. Infantry promised
plenty of excitement.
Having already obtained the sanction of his parents to enlist, it had
but remained to light-hearted Jimmy to go home and inform them that the
great deed was done. With Roger there had been no one to consult, other
than notifying the employment office of the munitions plant of his new
move. This he proposed to do on the following Monday morning. Rather
reluctantly he had given in to his friend's persuasions that he should
accompany Jimmy to his home that Saturday afternoon and meet the
latter's parents. The Blaises lived in one of the most beautiful suburbs
of the great city, and the very sight of the stately stone house which
the lucky Jimmy called home, set well back on a wide, tree-dotted lawn,
had filled Roger with secret dismay. As the roadster had rolled up the
broad drive that wound its way through the grounds to the garage,
situated well behind the house, he had been stirred with a strong
desire to jump out of it and hurry away. He wondered whether Jimmy's
folks would approve of him.
Later, when he had met the Blaises and found them delightfully friendly
and hospitable, he had been glad that he had not yielded to his first
panicky impulse to flee. Thoroughly accustomed to their son's whirlwind
tactics, Mr. and Mrs. Blaise had not only accepted Jimmy's new friend at
his face value, but had also privately approved Roger's quiet, resolute
manner and direct, courteous speech.
During the brief time that had elapsed between the enlistment of the two
lads until the morning of farewell, he had been a frequent guest of
easy-going Jimmy. The prophesy of friendship that the latter had made on
the afternoon of their first meeting had become an actual fact.
Jimmy not only grew daily fonder of Roger on account of his sturdy
manliness. He also respected the other boy for what he knew. Considering
the fact that Roger had left high school to go to work at the close of
his second year there, what he had gained by both work and study at
night amounted to a good deal. On the other hand, Roger had never before
encountered a boy quite so likable as Jimmy. Opposites by nature, each
hailed the other's good qualities with boyish enthusiasm. The very
sincerity of their liking for each other was to carry them triumphantly
through many strenuous days that lay ahead of them.
Now bound for Camp Sterling together, they were two very excited and
almost happy boys, as in company with fifty other youths they marched
down the platform that afternoon, there to say their last words of
farewell to Mrs. and Mr. Blaise before boarding the fateful train. Of
the two, Jimmy was scarcely more concerned at saying good-bye to his
parents than was Roger at taking leave of these kind friends. For a
brief season he had once again known something of the joy of a real
home. It would be very hard to say farewell to Jimmy's parents, he
thought. They had taken the kindest interest in him. Already Mrs. Blaise
had more than once smilingly called him her foster-son. Looking
gratefully back to the Saturday afternoon of his first meeting with
Jimmy, he had wondered how it had all come about.
"There's Mother, over yonder, and Father, too," muttered Jimmy in
Roger's ear. Paused beside the train that was to bear them away, the
company of prospective Khaki Boys had begun seeking their own among the
throng of civilians for a last word. "I almost wish they hadn't come. It
hurts to say good-bye. Anyway, we'll see them again before long, if we
behave," he added with a faint grin. "No behavee, no furloughs."
With this he made his way to the waiting couple, who had already spied
him, Roger at his heels. Since his enlistment in the Regular Army this
was the one shadow that had clouded Jimmy's enthusiasm in his new
patriotic venture. He had resolutely shoved into the background all
thought of saying good-bye. Now that the dread moment had come, he
looked exceedingly solemn.
"Good-bye, Roger." Mrs. Blaise extended her hand. Obeying a motherly
impulse she bent forward and kissed his cheek. "Be a good soldier boy. I
know you'll be a good friend to Jimmy." Her blue eyes wandered
affectionately to her son, who was gravely shaking hands with his
father, his merry features grown momentarily sad.
"Don't you worry about me, Mother." Jimmy's voice sounded a trifle
husky. "I can take care of myself and Roger, too."
Not ashamed to show his affection for his mother in public, Jimmy
wrapped his strong young arms about her in a loving hug. "I'm going to
be a regular angel Sammy," he whispered. "I'm going to make you proud of
me. Maybe by the time I come home for Thanksgiving I'll be a general or
something. I guess it'll be 'or something,'" he added with a
half-hearted attempt at humor. "If I can get a pass to come and see you
before then, you know I'll do it. It's only a few hours' ride in the
train from here to Camp Sterling. So cheer up, best Mother. I'll be
back driving Old Speedy around town again before you know it."
For a little the two boys lingered there, then with the sound of fond,
final farewells in their ears they climbed the steps of the rear car and
were lost for an instant to view. Almost immediately a window on the
side next the platform went up and two heads emerged therefrom. Far down
the track the engine was already sending forth premonitory warnings.
They were followed by the creaking jar of ponderous iron wheels about to
be set to their work of separating the Khaki Boys from home.
By this time every window casing of the car framed boyish faces, peering
eagerly out for a last exchange of looks and words with the home folks.
As the train began to show signs of moving, a pretty girl, laden with a
bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, now flung it straight toward a rear
window of the car from which a soldier boy leaned far out, his eyes
fixed upon her. His right arm shot out in a wild attempt to catch it. It
fell short of his extended fingers by a bare inch or so and dropped.
Quick as lightning a uniformed figure on the lowest step of the train's
rear platform sprang for it, fairly snatching it up as it was about to
roll under the slowly revolving iron wheels. Pausing only to raise his
cap to the thrower, the officer who had retrieved the flowers from
destruction swung aboard the train and disappeared into the car. The
next second the soldier for whom the bouquet had been intended was
triumphantly waving it out the window.
The hearty cheering which had begun with the first shudder of the train
increased to wild applause of the little act of gallantry. Inside the
car the young volunteers were also voicing noisy appreciation. It was
merely an incident, and yet it served to impress on those left behind
the belief that the welfare of their boys was in good hands.
As the train continued to move slowly out of the long shed the cheering
was kept up. This time it was for the Khaki Boys themselves. It met with
an equally fervent response on their part, accompanied by a frantic
waving of hands, hats and handkerchiefs. The Khaki Boys were started at
last on the first stretch of the Glory Road.