“Are there any remarks?” asked the chairman calmly.
Stacey was smiling a little at the contrast between the phraseology of the introduction and that of the motion, but, half risen in his seat, he was also looking about him keenly. It did not strike him that the tensity was universal. There were sluggish centres of indifference in the hall, and not many remarks were being made.
Presently he rose to his feet, obtained recognition, and made his way to the front of the room amid some considerable interest.
“I quite agree with Captain Small,” he said, leaning against the chairman’s desk, “that it doesn’t make any difference that Kreisler was an Austrian instead of a German, and that the unit in which he fought never faced an American unit. Aside from that, I disagree with him in everything. It strikes me that for this post to pass any such motion as that proposed would be silly. Kreisler fought against us? Well, what of it? So did a lot of other good men. If we don’t admit that we depreciate our own achievement. Gentlemen, I call to your attention the advice given some months since by a newspaper in Rome. ‘There are a large number of people sitting in a large number of offices, and especially those who never saw service at the front,’ this paper said, ‘who ought to be made to write: The war is over! The war is over! twenty times a day until they get the fact into their heads’.”
There was a murmur of laughter; but Captain Small was on his feet, protesting angrily. “Mr. Commander!” he cried, “I object to the insinuation that Captain Carroll has made—I mean to say, that I never saw active service. If I didn’t it wasn’t my fault, and I—”
The chairman rapped with his gavel. “I am sure Captain Carroll intended no such suggestion,” he observed. “Go on, Captain.”
“Certainly not,” said Stacey coolly. “It was through no fault of Captain Small’s that he did not get to France. He was, I believe, one of the first to volunteer upon America’s entry into the war. But, having made that perfectly clear, and since the point has arisen, I call it to your attention that both the proposer of this motion and those who seconded it happen to be men who, though through no fault of their own, did not see fighting.”
A rumble of voices interrupted him, but he waved his hand for silence.
“Wait a minute! Let me finish! I say this not to create dissension, but because I want to show that I’m speaking not just for myself but for the point of view of the men who had the luck—good or bad—to fight the Germans in Flanders and the Argonne.”
He leaned forward and scrutinized the faces of the audience swiftly. There was something compelling in his presence. Undoubtedly he dominated the crowd, even against their will.