Take it all in all, it's a strange kind of an office, isn't is? Well, it ought to be, considering it's in a strange land. It's an army newspaper office, that's what it is—an American sanctum in the heart of France.
TACTICS GET GOAT ACROSS.
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Requirements Include Perfume, a
Sack, a Kit Bag and Cheers.
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From the C.O. down to "Fuzzy," who would have rather taken court martial, no one wanted to leave "Jazz" behind. So there was no end of indignation when the order came at a certain American port that no animals (unless useful) could go to France with the squadron.
"Jazz," being only a tender-hearted billy goat, could not claim exemption from remaining in the U.S.A., for, as everybody agreed, he was no earthly use, just "a poor, no-good goat." But "Jazz" did go aboard the transport, later an English railway train, next another ship and finally a French train until he arrived with the squadron at America's biggest air post in France. There I saw him the other day appreciatively licking devoted "Fuzzy's" hand.
It is not difficult to guess that "Jazz" is the mascot of "X" squadron, accepted by pilots and mechanics alike as talisman for good at some training camp back home. This office he has performed with exceptional skill from the day "Fuzzy" permitted him to "butt in" at the mechanics' mess.
"Fuzzy" and some of his pals slipped the goat into a sack and laid him down among the cold storage meat when the time came to help load the ship, taking care that the sack of live goat did not get into the refrigerator. When the ship was well out to sea, the sack was opened and "Jazz" crawled out blinking.
Even then "Fuzzy" was cautious. For the first days, he did not permit the animal to promenade indiscriminately, but subjected him to repeated scrubbings, following by perfume, toilet water and talcum powder. So when "Jazz" was really discovered, he smelt, but more like a barber shop than a goat. The ship's officers appreciated the joke and so did everyone else and soon "Jazz" became a favorite on deck. Repeatedly shampooed and perfumed, wearing a life-preserver, he moved about like a good sailor. But there was less joyful days ahead of him.
He did not exactly set foot on English soil as did his friends. He went ashore at an unmentionable port in a kit bag. In this he lay with the other bags, surrounded by a screen of men. "Jazz" was uncomfortable and said so in his goat way, but before he had uttered a full syllable his friends set up a cheer which drowned his voice.
This happened again and again. The first time, British transport officers at the port politely disregarded the Americans' demonstrations, but after the third time one of them exclaimed:
"Extraordinary, these Americans. Wonderful spirit."