"Oh, then, you'd better go to headquarters first of all. See that low building with the people sitting outside? Tell one of the aides there who you are; he'll fix you."
The Brighton lads were a little surprised and much pleased with the almost sudden absence of red tape. In a short time they confronted the camp commander and that personage proved to be far more kindly than his rather severe appearance and abrupt manner indicated. He seemed to take an especial interest in the boys, spoke to them briefly of their school and home life, uttered a short, though heartfelt "Too bad!" when learning that Herbert was an orphan and after an order to an aide respecting the two ended with:
"You shall be enrolled at once and placed, boys. There is much for you to learn. I will keep you both in mind and a little later on I want to witness your skill at shooting. We have too little ability here in that art."
The "little later" proved to be long over a month, in which time both boys had become privates in Company H, Officers' Corps, as far as the simpler requirements of knowing how to obey commands could take them. But they had soon learned that Camp Wheeler was partly an officers' training camp; that they had to study and practise and drill and listen to lectures and practise some more and study some more for many, many hours each day and that they were always ready for the wholesome, plentiful food and the comfortable cot at night, finding the enforced silence, after taps were sounded, not a whit unreasonable.
There was some little time off and then leave on Sundays when the boys, sometimes with others of their company, or more often by themselves, walked to the mile-distant town and bought sweets, knicknacks, ice cream, sundaes and other toothsome articles of the kind, craving a little novelty after the rather plain diet of the camp. Some there were who craved a little more than novelty and who sought it in ways that the law of neither town nor camp permitted. For it was known that the section around camp was, so-called, "dry."
Then Captain Leighton of Company H, as did all the others in command of such units, give the boys a little talk.
"You men," he said, "have the Y. M. C. A. and the Knights of Columbus as refining elements and spiritual aids. You have your chaplain, who is strong in sympathy and noble in precept. Above all, you have your integrity, your consciences, your pleasure in clean living as reminders of what is necessary in the conduct of an officer and a gentleman. Of this we have spoken before and also of that which is down deep in your hearts, sterling patriotism and the desire to win this war. And this does not mean drilling and discipline and method only. It means clean living; it does not expect of you only bravery, courage to face a foe, but manliness in every way. We all hope not only for good conduct in ourselves, but also to teach it by word and example to others. This all is the test of patriotism of a practical, battle-winning kind.
"Our general has requested those of us now in command of you, as you later will be in command, to talk to you about these matters and particularly in relation to the tendency to obtain and partake of intoxicants. Liquor is a trouble bringer, a brain stealer, a disgusting habit maker and you want to get away from it as you would from a German with a bayonet, killing it first, however, with your moral automatic. And now, I want all of you who favor these sentiments to respond with three rousing cheers for Lieutenant Total Abstinence. Are you ready? Hip, hip——"
The chorus of approval rang out with no uncertain sound; it seemed to be unanimous, beyond a doubt. But Herbert noticed, glancing once around, that here and there some of the fellows expressed in their faces that they were not in accord with the prevailing opinion. They had in some way been adversely prejudiced; perhaps were the sons of saloon keepers, brewers or distillers; perhaps had come from homes where unthinking parents had admitted the stuff to sideboard and table.