A visit to Washington on a Saturday afternoon is well worth while, merely to see the young officers going about. They are very careful about saluting. I suppose war is a bad thing from every aspect, but it seems bearable in the capital city, when one sees the effect of military life on the many men walking about the streets.
One thing seemed unusual to me, and that was the number of junior officers who were over thirty. It would seem that this in America were a good thing. I wonder. The respect and affection shown to the young junior officer by his men is a very fine thing. We find in our army that the subaltern of immature age gets this much more easily than anyone else. Affection is more powerful than respect, and when it comes to the actual difficult, dangerous work, the leading of a charge, for instance, the youngster can sometimes carry it off with less effort than the older man. Of course, he has not the same sanity of judgment possessed by the older chap. Possibly he will attempt the most impossible kind of stunts. However, time will tell and it is useless to compare British experience in this respect with American.
In our army it is only the subaltern and the field marshal who can afford to be undignified. A little lack of dignity on the part of both is often effective. A man just over thirty is apt to overdo dignity. He is like a second year man at a university—just a little difficult to manage. In our army, the men seem to take a fatherly interest in their platoon commander and will follow him to hell, if necessary. Of course, when you become a captain or a major or something equally great, then it is a different matter, but the subaltern has so much personal intercourse with his men, that if you can introduce a personal feeling of love and affection to this relation it is a great help on a nasty, rainy, miserable night in the trenches. The subaltern forms a connecting link between the men and the more superior officers, and that link becomes very strong when the junior officer is an enthusiastic youth who makes a few unimportant mistakes sometimes, but with all is a very proper little gentleman, who understands when a fellow makes a break occasionally. There's nothing greater in this world than love, and in my experience there's nothing finer over there in France than the affection, and protective interest shown by the dear old British Tommy for the youth, not long out of school, who is his "orficer" and a "proper torf" into the bargain, or what the Sammee would call a "reg'lar feller."
After dining at the hotel I had to leave my friends, and catching a slightly unclean trolley car found myself dashing along to Annapolis.
At the academy gates I was met by a coloured steward who, after feeling the weight of my bag, asked if I were going to stay a week. Secretly I hoped so, but merely laughed lightly. At the "Reina" I was received cheerily by the commodore and his wife, and their two nieces R—— and M——. They are both ripping girls of entirely different types. R—— is what we would call in England a typical American girl—original, bright, happy-go-lucky, a delightful companion; while M—— represents an international type of young womanhood; sympathetic, the sort of girl that makes a priceless friend, as the newsboy says: "One wat knows all abawt yer and yet likes yer."
The next day after lunch, dear old Eddy came on board full of enthusiasm and witty remarks, that would come out, in spite of his efforts to keep them back, or to reserve them for more fitting occasions. I was very glad to see him. His father, a naval officer of rank, had lived at Annapolis during his son's boyhood. Here Edward established a reputation for being the "baddest" boy in America. He was brimming over with mischief and was the terror of the young midshipmen who had attained sufficient seniority to be allowed to walk out with young persons.
He is still full of mischief and loves to tease people, but the person being "ragged" always enjoys the process. I met him first at a large steel plant. For two years he had worked very hard, practically as a laborer, refusing to go about with the young people of the town. Finally, however, he got promotion and found himself in the sales department. He now burst upon our local society and no party was complete without him. He is very much a man's man. He says more witty, droll things in one week than most people say in five years.
As soon as war broke out he joined the Navy as a "gob," in other words an ordinary seaman. However, he got a commission, and was soon sent to Annapolis for a short course of intensive training.
We all chatted for a time and then walked round the city of Annapolis. Annapolis is very like Cambridge, apparently quite as old fashioned, and has numbers of nice old red brick houses rather like Queen Anne houses in England. It seemed sound asleep.
We sought a movie show, and went in to see some star alleged to be good looking, playing in a piece called "The Snake's Tooth." There were no serpents, and the star seemed to me to be a little fat and bourgeois looking, but she wore some stunning frocks for her more agonizing scenes. There was a handsome looking fellow moving about the screen very well dressed. I tried to sleep, but couldn't because the chair was not meant for sleeping in.