And teeth—
“You’d think we were horses up for sale,” complained Clarence Hawkesbury, after one of the doctors had made him and the others open their mouths. Some one recalled the old joke about the recruit who was rejected because of poor teeth. He had said he wanted to shoot the enemy, not to bite ’em!
But, after all, a soldier’s digestion depends in a great measure on his ability to chew often not tender food. And among the few true things said about war is that “an army fights on its stomach.” No soldier can be a first-class one if he has such bad teeth that he cannot chew well.
It was a most searching examination, and no one knew whether he had passed or not, for the doctors merely looked wise and jotted down notes on papers before them.
However, it developed during the day that some of the candidates had been rejected as physically unfit, and as Tom and his two chums received no notification that they had not passed, they took it for granted that they had gone through—as they had.
In due time came the mental examinations. It was a grilling experience for all, and a number of lads were on the verge of nervous breakdown before it was over.
However, Tom had made an excellent preparation and he felt sure he had gone through, if not with flying colors, at least on a safe margin. The examination was more severe than he had imagined it would be.
Several days were consumed in getting through with the examinations, as nothing was done hurriedly. The candidates were kept to themselves during this period, and though the upper classmen were forbidden to come to the barracks while the candidates were there, the rule was often violated, and mild hazing was indulged in, especially in the bathrooms. Some of the boys were made to give an imitation of swimming, as they lay face downward on a chair.
It was one day, after a particularly hard examination, that Tom went in to freshen up with a bath. As he undressed he was suddenly seized by a couple of yearlings, one of whom yelled in his ear:
“Now for the slide for life!”