CHAPTER IV

_PERSHING_

Persons about to be received by the great are invariably amusing; I

know, for I have had the "funny feeling" of the man who waits without.

A reception-room is a "first-aid station" in practical psychology.

The nonchalance, perfectly transparent and that deceives no one, not

even the man who feigns it; the effort to convince the other fellow of

your own importance or the importance of your mission; the anxiety and

nervousness that you hide behind venerable magazines--these are a few

of the symptoms of the "about-to-be-ushered-into-the-presence-of."

I had stepped over to the general headquarters from the Y. M. C.

A. hut, to ascertain when "The General" would see me, and had been

surprised when Colonel Boyd, his secretary, said:

"Can you wait? He will meet you this afternoon."

And so in the plain but ample room separated from General Pershing's

private office by a smaller room occupied by his secretary I

entertained myself for two hours while the man upon whom the nation has

placed so great a responsibility wrestled with his problems. And while

I waited, I studied psychology. I began with a more or less complete

analysis of my own mental state--but why discuss personal matters when

there are other people to talk about?

I was particularly interested in a little group of Frenchmen. One

of them was a general, I should judge, although uniforms and gold

braid in France often mislead a civilian, and I had been saluting

letter-carriers for a week before my attention was called to the

mistake. He had with him two aids, one of whom was an interpreter. The

French officers sat with their backs toward the entrance of the small

room already referred to. Just within the entrance was a table on which

were four hand-grenades, unloaded, but with their detonating-caps in

place. However, the exact status of the grenades, which I have just

revealed, was unknown to me until after _it_ happened.

On one of the periodical excursions of my eyes about the bare walls

of the room--a room overlooking a great barrack court, flanked on two

sides and closed at one end by long, low gray stone buildings--they

stopped with a shock at the grenades on the table. The table was

directly in front of me and directly behind the French officers, who

sat within ten feet of it. When my eyes were arrested in their aimless

wandering, one of those hand-grenades was in the act of falling off

that table. I knew nothing about the nature of grenades at the time,

only that they were, potentially at least, small but effective engines

of destruction. At any rate, there was nothing that I could do but

brace myself against what might happen when that grenade met the floor.

What happened was this: the detonating-cap exploded. It was a

relatively small noise as this war goes, but within the four walls

of a quiet room it gave a pretty good account of itself. It was

particularly disquieting to men without warning of it, men for several

years accustomed to associate all such disturbances with the business

of killing. The French general and his aids rose hurriedly and with

ejaculations! Every man in the two rooms decreased the distance between

himself and the ceiling. Only General Pershing remained unperturbed; at

least, no sound came from within and his door was not opened.

After the field had been cleared and the composure of the innocent

bystanders restored, I took up again my task of waiting. Colonel Boyd

was courteous and interesting; indeed, the American officer overseas as

I saw him was two things--busy, _very_ busy, and always courteous. He

has no time to waste, but he is efficient without being a "gump." His

efficiency is branded with his Americanism; water-mains, railroads, and

warehouses built by Uncle Sam's engineers carry no "made in America"

label, but their origin is unmistakable. They look and they _act_ the

part! There are French cities now that remind one of a section of

Bridgeport, Conn., or of Chicago.

And what romance walks with those who have come so far to make the

paths straight for democracy! An Oregon company of engineers, while

excavating in a certain city that nearly girdles a beautiful harbor,

dug up a cache of Roman coins bearing the head of Marcus Aurelius.

The tombs of the past are being opened in more ways than one by these

soldiers of the present; the old and the new are joined together, and

the West has come to the East.

But we have wandered far afield. In the meantime General Pershing has

completed his schedule, and I am ushered into his presence. Perhaps I

suggest the personality of the man when I confess that I carried away

not the slightest recollection of the room in which our interview took

place. He had just completed instructions to certain officers, and was

dismissing them when I entered. He greeted me with the suggestion of a

smile, and, after I had seated myself at his invitation and directly

across the flat-top desk from him, he waited for me to speak.

When I faced General Pershing, I found a man who looks like his

picture. He is slightly heavier than I had expected to find him,

exceedingly well proportioned, and amply tall. He is erect without

the conscious effort of those who begin soldiering after years in

the undisciplined pursuits of peace. His eye is gray and clear, his

close-cropped mustache accentuates the firmness of his mouth. His

skin is of the ruddy texture of health, the health of vigorous action

out-of-doors. I have not consulted "Who's Who in America," and I know

that he is older than he appears; but he looks and acts virile fifty.

His inches are all those of a soldier, and his presence carries the

assurance of a man of action.

In the weeks which I spent in France following my hour with the

commander-in-chief of the overseas forces the almost startling

efficiency that I found everywhere, and in some instances under

difficult and extreme circumstances, was at once associated with him,

with the personality of this other "quiet man" who has soldiered

in every place where the flag of his country floats, and who is

now intrusted with what Lincoln gave to Grant. General Pershing's

promptness is fast becoming proverbial. On October 19, 1917, he was

requested to pass judgment upon the sawed-off shot-gun as a possible

weapon of trench warfare. Seventeen days later the originator of the

idea was notified that the gun had been adopted.

When General Pershing spoke, his first sentence clearly stated his

attitude toward the matter being considered. It is my impression that

no circumstance would find him able to cover his thoughts with words;

his mind is hopelessly direct! His famous "speech" at the tomb of

Lafayette, "_Lafayette, we are here_," was true to his best form, and

what could have been more complete?

As to the opinion men have of him,--those who have been associated

with him closely and those who have met him casually, as I did,--one

word tells the whole story--_confidence_. A certain gentleman high in

British political life said in my presence,

"General Pershing is a great re-assurance."

In the opinion of the writer he will be followed with enthusiasm and

real affection by many, and all will have faith in his leadership.

When we discussed the morals of the soldiers in France, the General's

face lighted; and well it might, for no nation has ever been

represented by cleaner-living men than those who wear the uniform of

the United States in France to-day; and the programme of the military

authorities in France to safeguard and inform the country's fighters is

a source of gratification and pride to all who believe that efficiency

and morality are twin brothers. General Pershing said,

"When the report shows an increase in the venereal rate of _one

thousandth of a per cent_, I learn the reason."

Army medical officers--and with two of these it was my privilege to

have conferences--are constantly in the field investigating conditions

that affect army morale and morals. Their findings and recommendations

are the basis for orders and constructive activities that never relax

their vigilance. Early one Sunday morning the General motored nearly

thirty miles to a certain brigade headquarters, which while American

authority was in control served both French and American troops. This

situation made it embarrassing, to say the least, for any action to

be taken affecting the recognized customs of our splendid allies.

But General Pershing's trip was not a pleasure-jaunt. Several French

wine-shops had been injuring the discipline of American soldiers.

Conditions had not been improving. General Pershing permanently closed

every wine-shop in the village, and so diplomatically did he proceed

that the cordial relationship between the two armies was not disturbed.

His own attitude both toward alcohol for beverage purposes and toward

vice is in harmony with the programme of the War Department and the

Navy Department at home, and he is earnestly enthusiastic for that

programme. Some of the details of the programme as applied in France

must be worked out by indirect methods rather than by direct, but

the programme shall not suffer. For instance, in the villages at the

front where our leadership is in control I found no orders against the

distribution or the use of the popular beverage of France, light wine;

_but neither did I find any light wine_. It was not available.

[Illustration: A MESSAGE FROM GENERAL PERSHING TO THE YOUNG PEOPLE OF

THE AMERICAN CHURCHES]

GENERAL HEADQUARTERS AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES.

France, March 4, 1918.

To the Young People

of the Churches of America:

I am glad to have the opportunity of sending you greetings and

hearty approval of the concerted support the church forces of the

country, through you, are giving the Government. The great active

moral influence of the churches of America cannot fail to add power

to the Nation.

After all, it is to the young people, whose vision reaches far into

the future, and whose aggressiveness of spirit gives force to their

will, that the country looks for strength. Your efforts will serve

to unite our people more closely in their determination to give the

downtrodden throughout the world the same free democracy that we

ourselves enjoy.

While the young people at home may be depended upon to do their

full part, the soldiers who represent you, encouraged by your

loyalty, may be depended upon to give a good account of themselves

in this battle for the principles of liberty.

With very best wishes, I remain,

Yours sincerely,

John J. Pershing.

To Dr. Daniel A. Poling,

American Y. M. C. A.,

12 Rue d' Aggesslan,

Paris, France.

Our conference revealed General Pershing's own firm religious

convictions and his determination to give to the army a religious

leadership second to the leadership of no other branch of the service.

He spoke with kindling eyes of what he hoped to secure for the men

through the chaplains, and referred to the work of investigation he had

committed to his old friend and the friend of his family, Bishop Brent.

His words were the words of a constructer and prophet, as well as the

words of a forward-driving warrior. He expressed his gratitude for the

Y. M. C. A. and his appreciation of the support from the religious

and moral agencies at home. He barely referred to the criticisms that

some temperance leaders had visited upon him after his order against

"spirits" was made public and before opportunity was given for the

General himself to explain the order with reference to its silence on

wine and beer, also its relation to circumstances associated with army

life in France. He is too busy to give attention to small things and

too big to misunderstand the real heart of the anxious men and women

whose sons had been intrusted to him.

The last words spoken to me by this leader who represents so much of

the idealism and faith of his country to-day were of the _men_. I shall

not forget many things that were said in that interview, but with

distinctness above everything else that was said I shall remember the

dozen words with which the quiet soldier revealed his pride and his

confidence in those who fight now to achieve a lasting peace.

General Pershing's life has had a great tragedy; under unspeakably sad

circumstances his family--all but one boy--was destroyed in a fire

while he was on duty on the Mexican border.

General Pershing's wife and children were received into the church by

Bishop Brent when the bishop was presiding over the Philippine diocese,

and while the General was stationed in Manila. Since his acceptance

of the post in France the General himself has been welcomed into the

fellowship of the church by his old friend, now serving as leader

of the chaplains of the American army. There is something vastly

re-assuring in the manifest poise of a man who is so transparently

unaffected in great decisions and whose personal example is so high a

challenge to acknowledge the authority of the spiritual.

It was after office-hours when I found my way down the ancient stairway

and into the courtyard. Out through the guarded gates I passed, the

gates through which Napoleon marched his legions when he turned them

toward Moscow, the city of their destruction. And as I thought of

Bonaparte and of his programme, of that unsated ambition and pride

which brought about the overthrow of the military genius no time of the

past or the present has duplicated, I was glad that America's man of

the hour on the field of democracy's destiny has not forgotten to place

first things first; that he retains so clear a conception of relative

values in so disturbed a time.

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