The Illinois organization was officially born January 11, 1909—that is to say, less than five months ago. On that day the reporter was appointed Director-in-chief of the Illinois units to be organized. Within a few days after the Illinois Branch was handed about forty applications as a nucleus.

These new members who joined the American National Red Cross, and at the same time the First Relief Column, were not gathered in a few days, but represented a loyal band of men and women who had joined in 1908 an independent, private first-aid corps under my command.

All the officers were fully uniformed, practically in accordance with army regulations. The fact, however, that the Relief Column officers have no distinctly military rank and that the regulations in Major Lynch’s text-book would compel them to remove the coat-of-arms from the cap, the buttons, and the insignia of rank from the straps; possibly, also, to lay aside their sidearms (there being no mention of sidearms) produced such intense opposition that for a time I feared not a single one with whom I had been associated in our attempt to raise a first-aid brigade would remain with me. And for one man to do all the work and to look for congenial co-workers all over again appeared a Herculean task. It was then that I submitted in writing certain propositions to Mr. Ravell, Secretary of the Illinois Branch, who agreed to place them before the Central Committee at Washington. On his return from Washington last December I was advised that we could retain the caps and adopt more suitable collar insignia, so that there remained but one objection, viz, lack of military rank for the officers.

OFFICERS OF THE FIRST ILLINOIS LEGION.

However, with the objected-to features of the uniform overcome, I assured the officers that if they would go to work and aid me in the organization so that we could show the American people that we have the personnel, if not the material equipment, I would do all in my power to induce the authorities to grant us a certain status, which, though not equivalent to that enjoyed by the National Guard, would still mean more than empty titles beautifully engrossed in “commissions” signed by a few private citizens. This had the desired effect. Immediately after my appointment I called them together and delivered an impassioned address. I pointed out to them the seriousness of the step, the great responsibility it involves, the sacredness of the work to be done and the honor and prestige that is to be ours if we succeed. I made them pledge to observe the strictest possible discipline, to obey implicitly, and to respond to any call issued by the proper authorities.

A week later all our former members, new friends, patients of mine—in short, any one who could be reached—were called to attend a meeting in the parlor of a large hostelry, and the work of organization was begun in earnest.

For about two months bi-weekly lectures were delivered at hotel parlors. An independent detachment which had been associated with a fraternal organization was induced to join our column as a body. We agreed to accept them without the Legion dues by merely paying for membership in the Red Cross. The evening that body of young men in uniform entered the lecture hall in military order new life was infused, especially among the male members. I was repeatedly besieged by them with the request to supply them with uniforms and to take them to some place where they could learn how to march, carry litters, transport patients, etc.