“I can’t seem to get the real snap into the salute that Sergeant
Jim does,” said the boy named Billy. “He drills me on it every
time I see him. But try as I may I can’t seem to get the style
into it, and I’ve just got to learn it before I go into Scout
camp; want to spring it on the fellows.”
“Sergeant Jim didn’t learn it in a lesson or two, either,” said
Somebody. “He had it literally drilled into him. So don’t get
discouraged, Billy.”
“I’m not discouraged; I’m going to get it,” said the boy named
Billy. “Sergeant Jim says that when he first went into the
service he just hated the salute. But after a while when he began
to know what it meant, he didn’t mind it. What does it mean? Why
should a soldier salute an officer? An officer’s no better than a
soldier, is he?”
“Depends on how you look at it,” said Somebody quietly. “The
officer occupies a higher position and the salute is a matter of
courtesy--like saying ‘Good morning,’ to your mother, or the boy
next door.”
“It is also a matter of discipline, isn’t it?” asked Big Sister.
“It has grown to be that, of course,” answered Somebody. “But
it first came into being because the soldiers who were called
the ‘Free Men of Europe’ were allowed to carry arms, while the
slaves or serfs and poorer classes were not. When one military
man met another it was customary for him to raise his arm to show
that he had no weapon in it, and that the meeting was friendly.
The slaves and serfs, not being allowed to carry weapons, passed
without salute. But so imitative are we all that it was not long
before everybody was saluting everybody else, which did not
suit the aristocratic army men, who then resolved to make their
salute so hard to learn that it could not be imitated without
real military service, so that an outsider using it would brand
himself as a commoner by his incorrect manner of saluting.”
“And so that’s how it became,” said the boy named Billy. “Well,
I may not be a soldier, but I am going to _get it_ if Sergeant
Jim’s patience holds out.”
“You may not be a soldier, but you are a soldier’s grandson,”
said Somebody. “And all of your people have been soldiers when
there was any need to fight for the Stars and Stripes.”
“I’ll be right there when the Grand Old Flag needs me,” said the
boy named Billy. “And when I’m needed, I’m going to be a captain,
so I’ve just got to get this salute right.”
“You’ll have to watch your step in more ways than one,” said Big
Sister; “to be an officer in Uncle Sam’s Army means that you must
be very well educated, a real gentleman, able to train your men,
keep discipline, and make yourself popular with them.
“You should see them drill at West Point, Billy. They know, these
fine, clean young men, that some day they will be officers in
Uncle Sam’s army so they are earnest--quick to learn and accept
the teaching of experienced instructors. Strict mental and
physical discipline is necessary to make first rate officers.”
“Leave it to me,” said the boy named Billy, drawing himself up
and putting real snap into the salute. “I’m going to be what
Sergeant Jim calls a ‘regular.’”