The Government will ask from the institutions a specific service; that is, the housing, subsistence, and instruction along specified lines of a certain number of student soldiers. There will be no interference with the freedom of the institution in conducting other courses in the usual way.
The contract will be for a fixed term, probably nine months, subject to renewal for a further period on reasonable notice, on terms to be agreed upon and subject to cancellation on similar terms.
The story of the life of the American army behind the lines in France would fill a volume. The hospitality of the French people had something pathetic in it. They were expecting miracles of their new Allies. They were war sick. Nearly all of them had lost some father, or brother, or husband, and here came these big, hearty, joyous soldiers, full of ardor and confident of victory. It put a new spirit into all France. Their reception when they first landed was a scene of such fervor and enthusiasm as had never been known before and probably will not be known again. Soon the American soldier, in his khaki, with his wide-brimmed soft hat, became a common sight.
The villagers put up bunting, calico signs, flags and had stocks of American canned goods to show in their shop windows. The children, when bold, played with the American soldiers, and the children that were more shy ventured to go up and touch an American soldier’s leg. Very old peasant ladies put on their Sunday black, and went out walking, and in some mysterious way talking with American soldiers. The village Mayors turned out and made speeches, utterly incomprehensible to the American soldiers.
The engineering, building and machinery works the Americans put up were astonishing. Gangs of workers went over in thousands; many of these were college men. They dug and toiled as efficiently as any laborer. One American Major told with glee how a party of these young workers arrived straight from America at 3.30 P. M. and started digging at 5 A. M. next morning, “and they liked it, it tickled them to death.” Many of these draftees, in fact, were sick and tired of inaction in ports before their departure from America, and they welcomed work in France as if it were some great game.
Perhaps the biggest work of all the Americans performed was a certain aviation camp and school. In a few months it was completed, and it was the biggest of its kind in the world. The number of airplanes used merely for training was in itself remarkable. The flying men—or boys—who had, of course, already been broken-in in America, did an additional course in France, and when they left the aviation camp they were absolutely ready for air-fighting at the front. This was the finishing school. The aviators went through eight distinct courses in the school. They were perfected in flying, in observation, in bombing, in machine-gun firing. On even a cloudy and windy day the air overhead buzzed with these young American flyers, all getting into the pink of condition to do their stunts at the front. They lived in the camp, and it required moving heaven and earth for one of them to get leave to go even to the nearest little quiet old town.
The Secretary of War’s Official Chart
This reproduction of Secretary Baker’s chart, which hung in his office at Washington, illustrates graphically Germany’s success and failure in the war.
An impression of complete businesslike determination was what one got when visiting the Americans in France. A discipline even stricter than that which applied in British and French troops was in force. In towns, officers, for instance, were not allowed out after 9 P. M. Some towns where subalterns discovered the wine of the country were instantly put “out of bounds.” No officer, on any pretext whatsoever, was allowed to go to Paris except on official business. From the camps they were not even allowed to go to the neighboring towns.