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_Boy Scout Series Volume 7_
The Boy Scout Automobilists
OR
Jack Danby in the Woods
By Major Robert Maitland
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
CHICAGO, AKRON, OHIO, NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1918_
_By The Saalfield Publishing Co._
CHAPTER I
CALLED TO ACTIVE SERVICE
"What's this call for a special meeting of the Boy Scouts, Jack?" asked
Pete Stubbs, a First Class Boy Scout, of his chum Jack Danby, who had
just been appointed Assistant Patrol Leader of the Crow Patrol of the
Thirty-ninth Troop.
"Well, I guess it isn't a secret any more," said Jack.
He and Pete Stubbs worked in the same place, and they were great chums,
especially since Jack had enlisted his chum in the Boy Scouts.
"The fact is," he continued, "that Scout-Master Durland has been trying
for several days to arrange the biggest treat the Troop, or any other
Troop, has ever had. You know the State militia begins maneuvers pretty
soon, Pete?"
"Say, Jack," cried red-haired Pete, dancing up and down in his
excitement, "you don't mean to say that there's a chance that we are to
go out with the militia?"
"I think this call means that there's more than a chance, Pete, and that
the whole business is settled. You see, some of the fellows work in
places where they might find it hard to get off. In the militia it's
different. The law makes an employer give a man time off for the militia
when it's necessary, but there's no reason why it should be that way for
us. But Mr. Durland has been trying to get permission for all of us."
"I'll bet he didn't have any trouble here when he came to see Mr.
Simms," said Pete, enthusiastically. "If all the bosses were like him,
we'd be all right."
"They're not, Pete, though I guess most of them try to do what's fair,
when they understand just how things are. But, anyhow, Mr. Simms thought
it was a fine idea, and he went around and helped Mr. Durland with the
other people, who weren't so ready to let off the Boy Scouts who
happened to be working for them. And I guess that this call means that
it's all fixed up, for if it hadn't been nothing would have been said
about it."
Pete and Jack, with the other members of the Troop, reported at Scout
headquarters that night, and gave Scout-Master Durland a noisy welcome
when he rose to address them.
"Now," he said, "I want you to be quiet and listen to me. A great honor
has been paid to the Troop. We have been invited to take part, as
Scouts, in the coming maneuvers of the National Guard. There is to be a
sham war, you know, and the militia of this State and the neighboring
State, with some help from the regular army, are to take part in it. A
troop of Boy Scouts has been selected from the other State, and after
the militia officers had inspected all the Troops in this State they
chose the Thirty-ninth."
He had to stop then for a minute to give the great cheer that greeted
his announcement time to die away.
"Gee, Jack, I guess we're all right, what?" asked Pete, happily.
"Be still a minute, Pete. Mr. Durland isn't through yet."
"Now, I have gone around and got permission for all of you to go on this
trip," the Scout-Master went on. "It's going to be different from
anything we've ever done before. It's a great big experiment, and we're
going to be watched by Boy Scouts and army and National Guard officers
all over the country. It means that the Boy Scouts are going to be
recognized, if we make good, as a sort of reserve supply for the
militia. But we are going, if we go, without thinking about that at all.
Forget the militia, and remember only that you will have a chance to do
real scouting, and to make real reports of a real enemy."
"Look here," cried Dick Crawford, the Assistant Scout-Master, suddenly,
"I want everyone to join in and give three cheers for Scout-Master
Durland. I know how hard he's worked to give every one of us a chance to
make this trip and get the experience of real scouting. And it's up to
every one of us to see that he doesn't have any reason to feel sorry
that he did it. He trusts us to make good, and we've certainly got to
see to it that we do. Come now--three times three for the Scout-Master!"
Then came the formal giving of the instructions that were required for
preparation for the trip. Each Scout got word of the equipment that he
himself must bring.
"And mind, now, no extras," said Durland, warningly. "If the weather is
at all hot, it's going to be hard work carrying all we must carry, and
we don't want any Scouts to have to drop out on the march because their
knapsacks are too heavy. We will camp by ourselves, and we will keep to
ourselves, except when we're on duty. Remember that I, as commander of
the Troop, take rank only as a National Guard captain, and that I am
subject to the orders of every major and other field officer who may be
present.
"Some of the militiamen and their officers may be inclined to play
tricks, and to tease us, but the best way to stop them is to pay no
attention to them at all. Now, I want every boy to go home and spend the
time he can spare before the start studying all the Scout rules, and
brushing up his memory on scoutcraft and campcraft. Polish up your drill
manual, too. That may be useful. We want to present a good appearance
when we get out there with the soldiers."
The start for the camp of the State militia, who were to gather under
the command of Brigadier-General Harkness at a small village near the
State line, called Guernsey, was to be made on Sunday. The Scouts would
be in camp Sunday night, ready at the first notes of the general
reveille on Monday morning to turn out and do their part in the work of
defending their State against the invasion of the Blue Army, under
General Bliss, of the rival State.
"You see," said Jack, explaining matters to Pete Stubbs and Tom Binns as
they went home together after the meeting, "we are classed as the Red
Army, and we are supposed to be on the defensive. The Blue Army will try
to capture the State capital, and it is our business to defeat them if
possible."
"How can they tell whether we beat them or not, if we don't do any
fighting?" asked Tom Binns.
"In this sort of fighting it's all worked out by theory, just as if it
were a game of chess, Tom, and there are umpires to decide every point
that comes up."
"How do they decide things, Jack?"
"Why, they ride over the whole scene of operations, either on horseback,
or, if the field is very extensive, in automobiles. If troops are
surrounded, they are supposed to be captured, and they are sent to the
rear, and required to keep out of all the operations that follow. Then
the umpires, who are high officers in the regular army, decide according
to the positions that are taken which side has the best chance of
success. That is, if two brigades, of different sides, line up for
action, and get into the best tactical positions possible, the umpires
decide which of them would win if they were really engaged in a true
war, and the side that gets their decision is supposed to win. The other
brigade is beaten, or destroyed, as the case may be."
"Then how about the whole affair?"
"Well, each commanding general works out his strategy, and does his best
to bring about a winning position, just as they would at chess, as I
said. There is a time limit, you see, and when the time is up the
umpires get together, inspect the whole theatre of war, and make their
decision."
"It's a regular game, isn't it, Jack?"
"Yes. The Germans call it Krug-spiel--which means war-game, and that
term has been adopted all over the world. It's played with maps and
pins, too, in the war colleges, both for sea and land, and that's how
officers get training for war in time of peace. It isn't an easy game to
learn, either."
"Where do we come in, Jack? What is it we're supposed to do?"
"Obey orders, in the first place, absolutely. And I don't know what the
orders will be, and neither does anyone else, so I can't tell you just
what we'll do. But, generally speaking, we'll just have to do regular
scout duty. It will be up to us to detect the movements of the enemy,
and report, through Scout-Master Durland, who'll be Captain Durland,
during the maneuvers, to the staff."
"General Harkness's staff, you mean, Jack? Just what is a staff,
anyhow?"
"The headquarters staff during a campaign is a sort of extra supply of
arms and legs and eyes for the commanding general. The staff officers
carry his orders, and represent him in different parts of the field.
They carry orders, and receive reports, and they take just as much
routine work as possible off the hands of the general, so that he'll be
free to make his plans. You see the general never does any actual
fighting. He's too valuable to risk his life that way. He's supposed to
stay behind, and be ready to take advantage of any chance he sees."
"Times have changed, haven't they, Jack? In the old histories we used to
read about generals who led charges and did all sorts of things like
that."
"Well, it would be pretty wasteful to put a general in danger that way
now, Pete. He's had plenty of chance to prove his bravery, as a rule,
and, when he's a general, and has years of experience behind him, the
idea is to use his brain. If he is in the rear, and by his eyes and the
reports he gets in all sorts of ways, can get a general view of what is
going on, he can tell just what is best to be done. Sometimes the only
way to win a battle is to sacrifice a whole brigade or a division--to
let it be cut to pieces, without a chance to save itself, in order that
the rest of the army may have time to change its position, so that the
battle can be won. That's the sort of thing the general has got to
decide, and if he's in the thick of the fighting in the old-fashioned
way, he can't possibly do that."
"I think it's going to be great sport, don't you, Jack?" asked Tom
Binns. "Will there be any real firing?"
"Yes--with smokeless powder, because they want to test some new kinds.
But they'll use blank cartridges, of course. There'll be just as much
noise as ever, but there won't be any danger, of course."
"I don't like the sound of firing much," said Tom Binns, a little
shamefacedly. "Even when I know it's perfectly safe and that there
aren't any bullets, it makes me awfully nervous."
"This will be good practice for you, then, Tom, because it will help you
to get used to it. I hope we'll never have another war, but we want to
be ready if we ever do. 'Be prepared'--that's our Scout motto, you know,
and it means for the things that we might have to do in war, as well as
the regular peaceful things that come up every day."
"Will there be any aeroplanes?" asked Pete Stubbs. "I'm crazy to see one
of those things flying sometime, Jack. I never saw one yet, except that
time when the fellow landed here and hurt himself. And I didn't see him
in the air, but only after he made his landing. The machine was all
busted up then, too."
"I think there'll be some aeroplane scouting by the signal corps.
Several of the men in that are pretty well off, you know, and they have
their own flying machines. I guess that's one of the things they'll try
to determine in these maneuvers, the actual, practical usefulness of
aeroplanes, and whether biplanes or monoplanes are the best."
"Say, Jack, why couldn't we Boy Scouts build an aeroplane sometime? If
we learned something about them this next week, I should think we might
be able to do something like that. I know a lot of fellows that have
made experiments with toy ones, that wind up with a spring that's made
out of rubber bands. They see how far they will fly."
"I think that would be great sport, Pete. But we won't have any time for
that until after we've been through the maneuvers. But I'll tell you
what some of us may get a chance to do next week, though it's a good
deal of a secret yet."
"What's that, Jack! We'll promise not to say a word about it, won't we,
Tom?"
"You bet we won't, Jack! Tell us--do!" pleaded Tom Binns.
"I guess it's all right for me to tell you if you won't let it go any
further. Well, it's just this. They're going to do a lot of
experimenting with a new sort of automobile for scout duty, and I think
some of us will get a chance with them."
"Gee, I wish I knew how to run a car the way you do, Jack. I'd love that
sort of thing."
"I can soon teach you all I know, Pete. It isn't much. Come on down to
the factory garage after work to-morrow morning, and I'll explain the
engines to you, instead of eating lunch. Are you on?"
"You bet I am! Will they let us?"
"Mr. Simms will, if I ask him, I'm sure."