Among them all, there was no finer example than Jimmy Blaise of what military training will do for a young man. He was not only a joy to look at, so far as soldierly bearing went. He was also verifying the early promise he had shown of inevitably rising from the lowly private to the rank of a non-commissioned officer. Off duty and among his bunkies he was the same easy-going Jimmy. On duty he was a man who regarded the Service as a religion and lived up to it devotedly. Whatever he was ordered to do he did, with an intelligence and finish which marked him as one who keenly felt his responsibility.
No one except himself was greatly surprised when, just a week before Thanksgiving, he received a warrant from Washington, which signified that his appointment to a corporalship had been approved by Major Sterns, his commanding officer. So far as friendliness can be demonstrated in the Army between a commissioned officer and an enlisted man, Jimmy stood well in the estimation of the major.
Strangely enough it was his knowledge of automobiles which had brought him first notice from the commanding officer. The removal of a man, who had acted as the major’s chauffeur, to another training camp had caused the K. O. to look about him for a substitute. It having reached the ears of Sergeant Dexter that “Blaise owned a car and knew a lot about buzz wagons,” he had promptly acquainted the major with the fact. The result was that Jimmy was detailed one Sunday afternoon to drive the K. O. into Tremont. This trip was the first of other similar expeditions in the major’s service. His delight in them was scarcely greater than that of his bunkies. Though Bob and Roger teasingly accused him of “being raised a pet” and warned him against “getting the big head,” they were unenviously glad of his good luck.
So it was that when, on the momentous afternoon of his rise from the ranks, he proudly confided to them the great news, they received it with a jubilation second only to his own.
“You’re hiking right along on the Glory Road, old man,” was Bob’s hearty congratulation as he wrung Jimmy’s hand.
“Mebbe soon top sergeant,” averred Ignace hopefully, his solemn face wreathed with smiles.
“Then you’ll lose your bunkie, Iggy,” teased Bob. “Top sergeants are rare, exclusive birds, you know. They roost on the roof of the barracks with their heads in the air. They have their uses, though. They stop fights, quell frays and disorders and——”
“Oh, chop it,” cut in Jimmy in sheepish protest. “The war’ll be over long before I ever get that far. You fellows will probably be corporals, before long. I hope so. I’m not so much.” It was Jimmy’s favorite summing-up of himself. “Course I’m glad it happened. I guess it was just luck, though. Anyway, I’m going to be a bully good corp. if I can. No half-way business about it. I don’t expect to go any higher in a hurry. I wouldn’t care to, unless I could take you fellows along with me. I’d rather be one of the four Brothers than a rare bird that roosts on top of the barracks. I’d rather stay with the gang and see what happens.”