THE MEN WHOSE LOT HAS BEEN HARDEST
December 8, 1918
There recently died of pneumonia in France Major Willard Straight, of the American army. He was above the draft age, he was a man of large and many interests, he had a wife and three children. There was every excuse for him not to have gone to the front, but both he and his wife had in their souls that touch of heroism which makes it impossible for generous natures to see others pay with their bodies and not to wish to do so themselves. The one regret that Major Straight felt—and he felt it most bitterly—was that he had not been able in spite of all his efforts to get to the actual firing front. This failure was really a cause of great anguish of soul to him. In the same way I know of the four sons of an ex-Cabinet officer, all of whom instantly went into the army at the outbreak of the war. Two were at the fighting front, one was in the navy, and the other, because of the special excellence as an instructor, was kept here, and the gallant young fellow who left his wife and baby to enlist really feels as if the refusal of the War Department to permit him to go where he could be shot at had caused a blight in his life. I know three other men who, because of their excellence, were kept as instructors at one of our camps, whose feelings of regret are so bitter that they can hardly bear to look at their uniforms and the sight of wounded soldiers causes them agonies of thwarted longing.
All this is most natural, and just what we should expect from high-minded, gallant fellows. But it is entirely unwarranted. I utterly abhor the swivel-chair slacker who got some safe job in order to avoid doing his duty at the front. But for the hundreds of thousands of young Americans in the ranks or with commissions who did everything they could to get in the firing lines, and who through no fault of theirs failed, I have precisely the same feeling that I have for the men who took part in the most dangerous work. General Leonard Wood, in his recent capital address, has taught the right lesson to these men. He was dismissing to their homes the men whom he had trained with his usual, extraordinary capacity to fit them for work overseas, and he dwelt to them upon the fact that the all-important point was that they should remember that it was not the position they achieved, but the eager readiness to do duty in whatever position they were given that really counted. General Wood has himself been treated with the most cruel injustice in this war, yet he has rendered signal service in bringing before Congress our military needs, and, above all, in training scores of thousands of our best fighting men. When he was denied, from the very meanest motives, the chance to fill a distinguished position, instead of sulking he devoted all of his energy to doing the best he could in the positions to which he was assigned. In consequence he comes out of the war as one of those who most materially helped to win it. What is true of him in a big place is true of every other soldier, whether in a big or little place. The hardest task was for the men who were denied the chance of glory, and if they did this hard task well and served faithfully wherever they were assigned, they have exactly the same right for pride in their participation in the Great War as any of the gallant fellows who have come back maimed or crippled from the front. All alike have made the rest of us forever their debtors, and to all alike we pay the same meed of loyal admiration and respect.