The new American Army, like their excellent go‐ahead Navy, is a force to be reckoned with in the future. We hear much of the effects of “influence” in our army. It is nothing compared to what goes on in the American. With them to be the near connection of a Senator or a prominent politician is infinitely more advantageous than to be the scion of a ducal line or the son of a Commander‐in‐Chief with us.
If the Continental troops suffer from too rigid a discipline, which destroys the power of thinking for themselves in the lower ranks, the Americans, perhaps, err on the other side. They are too ready to act on their own responsibility, to question the wisdom of the orders they receive, and act, instead, as seems best to themselves. This was particularly evident in the case of the volunteer regiments in the Philippines; but instances of it were not wanting among the regulars and marines in North China. Democracy is impossible in an army. But the material at the service of the United States is unquestionably magnificent; and when the pressure of events in the future has called into being and welded together a really large army in America, there are few nations that can hope to oppose it successfully in the field. How rapidly the sons of the Star‐spangled Banner acquire the art of war was evidenced in Cuba and in the more difficult and trying guerilla campaign in the Philippines. Their faults were those of inexperience.
Of their courage there can be no doubt. At the taking of Tientsin city nearly a thousand American infantry and marines served with the British under General Dorward. In a letter to their commander this officer warmly expressed the honour he, in common with all his men, felt in serving alongside the American troops. In his own words, “they formed part of the front line of the British attack, and so had more than their fair share of the fighting. The ready and willing spirit of both officers and men, their steady gallantry and power of holding on to exposed positions, made them soldiers of the highest class.” What greater praise could be given them? And well they deserved it! Two companies of the 9th Infantry (U.S.A.), attacked in front and flank by a merciless fire, held gallantly to their ground until nightfall with a loss of half their number in killed and wounded, including their brave leader, Colonel Liscum, who met a hero’s death at the head of his men. In all the actions of the campaign the American troops distinguished themselves by conspicuous bravery; and the British recognised with pride and pleasure the gallantry of their cousins. May we always fight shoulder to shoulder with, but never against, them!
Great camaraderie existed between the Americans and the English troops. The sons of the Stars and Stripes amply repaid the disdain of the Continental officers with a contempt that was almost laughable. They classified the Allies as white men and “Dagoes.” The former were the Americans and the British, the latter the other European contingents. They distinguished between them though, and the terms “Froggie Dago,” “Sauerkraut Dago,” “Macaroni Dago,” and “Vodki Dago” left little doubt in the hearer’s mind as to which nationality was meant.
I heard a good story of an encounter between a young English subaltern and an American in North China. I fancy the same tale is told of a Colonial in South Africa; but it is good enough to bear repetition. The very youthful Britisher, chancing to pass a Yankee soldier who was sitting down and made no motion to rise, considered himself affronted at the private’s failure to salute him. He turned back indignantly and addressed the offender.
“Look here, my man, do you know who I am?”
“No—o—o,” drawled the American.
“Well, I’m a British officer.”
“Air ye naow?” was the reply. “Waal, sonny, you’ve got a soft job. See you don’t get drunk and lose it.”
The subaltern walked on.