“Who in hell cares if ya can talk Wop?” demanded the sergeant. “Pretty soon you’ll be tellin’ me you invented the laundry checks the Chinks use. What I ask was, ‘Can ya parley the Frog’?”
“Yes—fluently,” replied Leon stubbornly.
The non-com laughed. “That’s a good word—maybe if ya pull that on them, you’ll get the job, Grace. And it’s a damn sight better job than a fly-weight like you deserves in this man’s army.” Whereupon he sallied forth for regimental headquarters, with all who had answered satisfactorily, in tow. Arrived there he reported to a Captain who took the men in charge and after a lot of hemming and hawing and crazy questioning, Leon found himself chosen for the job—whatever it might prove to be.
He discovered that he now had the laugh on his former comrades, who had made him the butt of their jokes, for while they were laboriously attending to latrines, garbage cans, kitchen work and drilling, he was in comparative comfort attending the clerical wants of a Colonel who was farsighted enough to equip himself with a French-speaking clerk before the necessity arose for one. When Lowery heard of the nature of the new job, he frankly observed, “Dog-robbin’ is a hell of a good job fer an ole woman like you.” But dog-robbing or not, Leon knew a good thing when he saw it and he determined to make himself indispensable to his Colonel.
It was just after his promotion that Aunt Elinor, Vyvy and I dropped in for a week-end visit and made him show us everything in and about the camp. He took us to his “office” and even pointed out the Colonel who was getting into a car just as we came up, which made it possible for Leon to take us in and show us all about his work. It really wasn’t very intricate. I told him, afterwards, that as far as I could see, I could do his work as well if not better than he, and he retorted, “You’d probably make a better soldier than I am, anyway.”
But he didn’t feel so badly that day, what with Vyvy there and this new work so comparatively easy. The only fly in his ointment was that he feared this Colonel would be going overseas soon and that meant he’d go along. Leon was seriously worried about this. As he said, “Colonels have been known to get killed and anyone that’s with one might more easily get hit. Now Generals hardly ever get up in the lines, so I’m looking around for a convenient General to attach myself to.” His idea of unadulterated bliss (if such were possible in the army) was to be dog-robber to General Pershing. And he was so shameless about admitting it! However, I was glad he was making some kind of progress because the ordinary soldiers looked like a pretty dumb lot of cattle, not half so intelligent as the officers. Yet I would have been glad to be even a dumb private if I only could, which shows that my experience with Captain Winstead hadn’t really changed me completely inside for I was still interested in men’s affairs more than women’s.
I thought we had cheered the twin by our visit, but if we did its effects disappeared as soon as we left him, for his letters continued to be full of complaints and regrets. He wasn’t satisfied at all and his letters betrayed a yellow streak the width of his back. Apparently every moment he wasn’t busy, his mind was filled with gory imaginings and horrible visions of shell-torn bodies, stinking carcasses, burning flesh, blood, muck and god-awful corruption; and at night his dreams contained more gruesome details of his fate than fancies about his Vyvy. Each such night of mental anguish served to spur him on to work for promotion. His one consuming desire at the time was to go up, because he thought that safety lay in getting way up in the organization.... I was acutely ashamed of him because I realized that his ambition was prompted solely by cowardly fear. Such a man surely couldn’t get very far in the army.
Another thing which disturbed him considerably was the dirty army songs and rank stories. He thought it was incredible that officers who looked like gentlemen could enjoy passing along a rotten joke or a shady anecdote. He couldn’t possibly see that a little dirt now and then is relished by the best of men. He thought it was all very unnecessary and depressing, almost as bad as the foul ditties about the mademoiselles and their odd ways of loving or the legend of the Alsatian maiden who welcomed the invading Germans with the remark, “Well, officer, when do the atrocities begin?”
I really began to hate the thought of his going overseas because no one could tell what he might do in a pinch. He was scared to death already and although he had to act interested when his Colonel talked about going across, he actually was shivering in his boots and praying that something would happen to delay them.
But weeks passed and in doing so rather induced a lull in my worries about him because it seemed that they were never really going. Vyvy planned a big party for Leon, to take place whenever he could get away, and he made inquiries and told her to go ahead and plan on a certain week-end, at which time he felt sure he could get a leave. So Vyvy sent out invitations and had all her arrangements made—when on the Friday before the day of the affair, a letter came from him carrying the awful news that his outfit had received waiting orders and all leaves had been canceled. What a monkey wrench that was! And I had a note from Jay-Jay saying that he wasn’t sure whether or not he could be present but asking me again if I would marry him on any condition at all. I answered immediately to the effect that I wouldn’t even consider it unless he made an effort to go overseas. Now that Leon was going, poor specimen that he was, I had no patience with such a patriotic flat tire as Jay-Jay, in his soft and easy berth supervising “entertainments for the soldiers.”