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TRENCH AND CAMP
gablMied weekly at ttia National ean
•MCOfinta tor thv aoidiera »t th* United
ADVISORY BOARD OF CO-OPERATING
PUBLISHERS
JOHN STEWART BRYAN, Chairman.
H. C. AdlOT, Chattanooga Times.
CL H. Allen. Montgomery Advertiser.
W. *T. Anderson, Macon Telegraph.
F. B. Baker. Tacoma Tribune.
W. W. Ball. Columbia State.
John Stewart Bryan, Richmond New»-
header.
Harry Chandler, Los Angeles Times.
Amon C. Carter, Fort Worth Star Tele
graph
Elmer E. Clark. Little Rock Democrat
Gardner Cowles, Des Moines Register.
R. A. Crothers, San Francisco Bulletin.
Chas. S. Diehl, Ban Antonio Light.
E. K. Gaylord, Oklahoma City Oklaho
man.
F. P. Glass, Birmingham News.
Bruce Haldeman. Louisville Courier-
Journal.
Clark Howell, Atlanta Constitution.
James Kearney. Trenton Times.
Robert Latham, Charleston News and
Courier.
Victor F. Lawson, Chicago Daily News.
Charles E. Marsh, Waco Morning News.
Frank F. McLennan, Topeka State Jour
nal.
A. L. Miller, Battle Creek Enquirer-
News.
D. D. Moore. New Orleans Times-Pica
rune.
Frank B. Noyes, Washington Star.
Bowdre Pbinizy, Augusta Herald.
Don C. Seitz, New York World.
H. D. Slater, El Paso Herald.
W. P. Sullivan. Charlotte Observer.
Chas. H. Taylor, Jr.. Boston Globe.
James M. Thompson. Now Orleans Item
H. T Warner, Houston Post.
Published under the auspices of the Na
tional War Work Council of the Y. M. C. A.
of the United States with the eo-operatlon
of the papers above named.
THE “FINISHED” SOLDIER
Some of this new life may seem
hard. Duties from reveille to taps,
drill and more drill, a thousand
things to do and another thousand
to leave undone—perhaps, when
weary muscles rebel, we may ask
ourselves if all are necessary. We
read of the clash of armies and we
wonder the more: “Over There.” it
seems to be man again man, bayonet
against bayonet, strong heart against
heart that dees not fail. Over here
it is work and discipline, training
and tramping: must we learn it all,
to the last detail, before we take our
places by our comrades of France
Und Britain? The questions will rise,
battle against them though we may.
If it he so, remember this: the
critical campaigns of France and of
Flanders are being fought today on
the drill-grounds of our canton
ments. The boys who march back
to barracks, these October after
noons, are the same boys who will
march into Berlin in the glorious
noon of victory or else will strag
gle, broken, into the streets of
Bordeaux in the dismal night of dis
aster. Our success or failure here
will mean our fitness or our down
fall there.
And why? Because, of all the
Weapons with which we shall fight
when at length we reach the
trenches, none will prove so potent
as knowledge. We shall see our
mustered divisions as they go into
action and we shall hear the endless
roar of that long, long line of guns,
but we shall find that the greatest
strength of any army lies in the
heads and the hearts of its men.
As we know, so shall we be able to
fight.
The country wants the courage of
knowledge, not the wild abandon of
reckness sacrifice. It wants an army
mighty in numbers, but mightier
still .in its ability to impose the
maximum losses and achieve the
greatest results with the minimum
sacrifice. France entered this war
with crowded battalions and with
hosts that rejoiced at the sound of
battle. In the first engagement—at
Charleroi, in front of Mulhausen and
tn Lorraine—her soldiers threw
themselves agafnst the German as
though they craved the machine-gun
and the bayonet. They died as
heroes, bat they might have lived as
the saviours of their country. To
day, every poilu who is sent to
the trout is trained in every method
of defense as well as in all the arts
of offense, because his life means
hore to his country than Iris death
could possibly accomplish.
In this sober spirit, our command
ing officers are laboring. Not a man “
is to be taken from his home,
equipped, trained, sent overseas and
thrown into action with any other
view than that of wasting the least
to gain the most. That is why they
insist upon the fundamentals. That
is why they drill us and school us
and train us in every trick of war.
That is why they harden us by long
marches and prepare us by patient
drills. We are to go: they would
not have us go in vain. And in this
stern school, a quick mind is not less
to be desired than a good eye; a
strong heart is as precious as stout
legs. The soldier who serves
America best in France will be the
soldier who sought n his canton
ment to learn the incst.
Page 10
KETTCH ’XHD’C AMP/
'-rex.: —•
By Castner Browder
The great waj has developed
among other things the science of
fighting in the air. There is up
more fascinating and enthralling
game in the world than this new
art of flying, at tremendous speed,
thousands of feet above the ground,"
through clouds or above them.
And when an enemy machine is
sighted, then the real thing begins
and it becomes a contest of skill,
endurance and quick wit, as to
which shall bring down the other.
However, air fighting is only in
cidental to the main objects of the
aerial arms of the armies. Recon
naissance is the big thing,, and this
involves not only the flying of ma
chines, but also photography, map
making and the use of wireless to
convey information quickly. Direc
tion of artillery fire, or spotting,
and bomb dropping are other major
duties of the flying corps, and the
actual fighting is done only in pro
tection of these other duties.
When a fleet of reconnaissance
machines or bombers goes up on
the daily job they are accompanied
by some of the very fast single seat
er fighting machines. It is the
duty of the pilots of these machines,
FRANCE NOW IN THE GREAT
AMERICAN PIE BELT
All sorts of clubs have been
formed in Franco where the Ameri
can fighting man may be entertain
ed during his furloughs. In count
less instances private homes have
been opened with a right royal wel
come to lads in khaki—yet notwith
standing all this spirit of hospital
ity and comradeship on the part of
France, the men “Over There” have
felt something lacking. There was
a void in the atmosphere, so to
speak; die world did not seem fully
equipped. And at last some bright
mind, pondering the situation, hit
the target with a single word.
“Pie!” exclaimed this talented
one. That’s what the
Americans want! That’s what
they’re used to; and that’s what
they must have!”
Instantly a search was made for
some one who could evolve real,
home-made, American Pie. with the
U. S. A. permeating every flake of
crust, and insinuating itself through
every atom of “filling.” Word flew
from the American base camp to
Paris, and there met response. A
quick inquiry was started as to
whether any one in the Capital City
could construct American Pie—not
an imitation made from cook book
recipe, but a real, sure-’nuff Pie
made from experience, from heredi
tary influence. And at once this
Someone was found, a true-blue
American whose folks have been in
the United States from way back
of Revolutionary times, who was
brought up in the Middle West, re
turned to live in her ancestral state
of Vermont, married a Columbia
University football captain, and has
been in France for two years work
ing day and night at her own ex
pense to do her part in Civiliza
tion’s fight against the Hun.
Mrs. John R. Fisher, better
known as the novelist Dorothy
Canfield, came to relieve a strained
Pie situation. She took hold a few
weeks ago, and since then has been
teaching French cooks not only how
to make pie, but how to concoct
rice pudding, corn fritters, buck
wheat cakes, and other staples.
This she is doing not alone for the
benefit of American army cooks, but
for French cooks of French house
holds who now are depending to an
unusual extent upon American food
materials. Thanks to her efforts,
the great and glorious Gallic Re
public has .had new lustre added to
its halo. At last La Belle France
has achieved the ultimate. It is
now in the American Pie Belt.
NELSON’S CARELESSNESS (?)
She was an admirable person and
never lost an opportunity of point
ing a moral to her small nephews
and nieces. She took them to the
museum for a treat.
“This,” said the guide, “is Nel
son’s vest, worn at the battle of
Trafalgar, and this is the hole
where the fatal bullet went
through.”
“There, children,” said the aunt.
“You remember what I said about
a stitch in time saving nine. If that
hole had been mended the bullet
wouldn’t have gone through.”
Then she capped it by adding,
“And Nelson might have been, liv
ing yet,”
Fighting In the Air
which are armed with a machine
gun (The American Lewis gun is
much used for this work), to attack
and drive off any hostile machines
which try to interfere with the
work in hand.
As both sides follow these same
tactics, this brings on many aerial
battles, which are usually waged
far above the slower 1 bombing or
reconnaissance machines. Pilots of
opposing machines climb, dive,
turn, loop, and try every known
device to get in a position to train
his gun on his adversary, and to get
close enough to do some damage
when he fires. When he thinks he
is in the right position, he lets him
have it. Some times a clever and
skilful pilot will allow his machine
to drop, as if hit and out of control,
thus hood-winking the other fellow,
only a few minutes later to reap
pear right under the tail of the man
who thought he had finished him,
and in turn lets him have it.
An authority on air fighting has
stated that the ranges at which ac
tual firing may occur vary from 400
yards to 4 yards, that he never
heard of a single instance where
a hit was made at more than 400
yards, and that in order to do any
damage, one should try to get with-
What’ll We Do, When We’re Back?
By Roliert W. Service in Rhymes of the Red Cross Man
THE Atne old mprint In the tnewriag. boy», to the mune old din and smut;
vnained nil day tn the mme old deek, down In the same old rat;
Porting the Koine old greasy books, eztehing the same old train:
Oh, bow will I manage tn stick It all, if I ever get back again.
We've bidden goodbye to life in a rage. we're finished with pushing a pen;
os full of beUleose rage, they’re showing ns how to bo men.
J. .re only beginning to find oursotves; we're wonders of brawn aad thew;
Hot when we go back to our Sissy Jobs, —oh, what are we going to do?
For sho-iltters curved with the counter stoop will be carried erect and square;
And faces white tram the office light will he bronzed by the open air;
And we'll wall, with the stride of a new-born pride, with a new-found Joy in our eyen.
Seornfol men who have diced with death under the naked skies.
And when we get back to the dreary grind, and the bald-headed Immm’s rail.
roa the dingy window-blind, aad the dingier office wall,
W ill suddenly molt to a vision of apace, of violent, flame -scarred night?
Then, <>h, the Joy of the danger-thriU, and oh, the roar of the fight!
Don’t you think as we peddle a card of pins the counter will fade away,
And again we'll be seeing the sand-bag rim, and the barb-wire’s misty grey?
As a flat voice asks fur a pound of tea, don’t you fancy we'll hear Instead, ‘
The night-wind moan and the soothing drone of the packet that's overhead?
Don't you guess that the things we're seeing now will haunt us through all the years:
B raven and heli rolled into one, glory and blood and tears;
Life's pattern picked with a scarlet thread, where once we wove with a grey
To remind us all how we played our part in the shock of an epic day?
Oh, we’re booked for the Great Adventure now, we're pledged to the Real Romance;
W’ll find ourselves or we'll lose ourselves somewhere in giddy old France;
We'll know the zest of the ftgbtcr's life; the best that we have we’ll give;
We’ll hunger and thirst; well die . . . bnt first—we’ll live; by the gods, we’ll live!
Wf'll breathe free air and we'll bivouac under the starry sky;
We’U march with men and well fight with men, and we’ll see men laugh and die-
We’ll know such joys ae we never dreamed; we’ll fathom the deeps of pain:
But tiie hardest bit of it ail will be—when we have to come back home again.
For some of us smirk in a chiffon shop, and some of ns teach in a school;
Some of us help with the seat of our pants to polish an office stool;
The merits of somebody's soap or jam, some of us seek to explain,
But all of us wonder what we’ll do when we have to go back again.
THE PROPER SPIRIT
A company of Plattsburgers was
drawn up to learn how many of
them were to graduate as officers.
The names of those who had
passed were read out. The officer
in charge said:
"The rest of you may go. In my
opinion you are not good tor any
thing, but I may be mistaken, and
I hope the future will show that I
am. There is one way tor you to
prove this now. You can enter the
ranks and take a chance of work
ing up. Any who desire to do this
will please step three paces for
ward.”
Three men stepped forward.
“I see," said the instructor offi
cer, “that I made three mistakes.
I am sorry I missed you three men.
You certainly bave the right spirit.”
Draw Nigh, Soldier!
Also Draw Well
There’s a Wrist Watch Involved
♦
Can you draw a patriotic cartoon of interest to all the soldiers in
the thirty-two National Guard and National Army camps?
Can you draw sketches of army life as you see it about you every
day?
That is what Trench and Camp wants to ascertain.
If you cannot draw cartoons, perhaps you are a regular, "straight
artist" and can interest or entertain your fellow soldiers with your pen.
Trench and Camp will give a wrist watch to the soldier who draws
the best cartoon or sketch and sends it to the editor at Room 504
Pulitzer Building, New York City.
America’s foremost pen and ink sketch artists and cartoonists will
be the judges.
The watch-winning cartoon or drawing and as many others as
space permits will be published in Trench and Camp.
All cartoons and drawings should reach Room 504, Pulitzer Build
ing. New York City, by noon, November 15.
Oct 17,1917.
in 50 yards of the other machine.
He also said that it is very diG3-
cult to get within 100 yards with
out being seen, although the pe
culiar conditions of the air at tin
time cut a figure in this.
The speed at which these fight
ing machines travel (well over 100
miles per hour), accounts for the
fact that it is necessary to get so
close before any damage can ho
done by firing.
It is unnecessary to say that
military aviators on active duty d
not lead a monotonous life. Fa
from it. From the stories whici
are brought over and which ar-' 1
sometimes seen in print (although
it is necessary to take most of tiroes
in the papers with about a barrel
of salt), they get enough adventure
to satisfy anybody. An American
who served in the Lafayette Esca
drille of the French Army said re
cently that one day he turned the
corner of a cloud when flying at
about 13,000 feet and found himself
in the middle of a squadron of eight
or ten German machines.
“What did you do?” he was
asked.
“I turned her nose down and
went away from that place,” he re
plied.
THE -SMITHY SPEAKS OUT
At a concert for charity in a
country town Miss Carter obliged
by reciting “The Village Black
smith.'’ At the conclusion of the
recitation the rural audience
cheered.
“Encore!” they cried. “Encore!”
Miss Carter was about to grant
the request when a burly fellow,
very much out of breath, tapped
her on the shoulder. “I've just
come round from in front," whis
pered the man, excitedly. “I want
yer to do me a favor.”
“Well, what is it?” queried Miss
Carter.
“It’s this,” whispered the in
truder. “I happen to be the feller
you've been talking about, and I
want yer to put in a verse this time
saying as how I hire out bicycles.”
