But in this trying period several things stand out clear and bright, and as inspirations for the future. Two are psychological: the spirit of Americans of alien descent, and the participation of our great educational institutions; one, official as well as psychological, the selective service draft. The patriotism of the native American of the old stock goes, of course, without saying.
The true ring of our heterogeneous population of foreign extraction was to many a joyful surprise. That so many who had never seemed to amalgamate with our customs, were largely uneducated, and did not even speak our language, should respond so willingly and gladly to the call to the colors, was a source of some amazement. Not being in their confidence or intimacy, many of us little realized their loyalty: which reminds me of an Italian bootblack who in conversation told me that he wished to travel. I spoke of the beauties of Naples and Sorrento and that neighborhood, and was rather abashed when he said: Yes, but I would rather see my own country first. I hope that lesson will always be fresh in memory.
The same spirit of Americanism marked all nationalities, not excepting the German. The lists of draft registrants from, let us say, the east side of Manhattan Borough, reminded one of the Epistle for Whitsunday: Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judæa, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, all heard, and, with the deep realization of newly liberated peoples, showed themselves proud to answer the call.
A recent war or Liberty loan poster is most suggestive. You read on it a list of mens names, mostly unpronounceable, and suggestive, in the language of the same Scripture just quoted, of every nation under heaven, and this is summed up in the phrase, Americans all. Truly, a fitting tribute to our adopted citizenry, equal in loyalty, bravery, and self-sacrifice to the best of the old Americans. Among them, as just noted, the German names stand out boldly. They are so numerous, in fact, as to attract less notice in this country than they deserve; let us hope that they will be noticed and taken to heart in the misguided country where such names originated. I would that our American army, made up in large part of such men, could occupy Germany for a time as it formally occupied Cuba, for its own good, and give a much needed object lesson in the theory and practice of free institutions.
These men, as I have said, were largely uneducated. I turn now for a moment to those in our great seats of learning, and to the heads and faculties and trustees of those institutions. Their stand was doubtless one to be expected, but is still worthy of remark. That the best blood in England suffered the most losses I think is conceded. That would have been the case with us if the war had broken on us as it did on Great Britain. As it was, our boys courted the posts of danger—aviation; submarine chasers; balloon observation, and so on. Some left college to enter the service; others stayed at college awhile, but in order to train and perfect themselves in the art of war. The colleges themselves became military schools; the dormitories barracks. For a short time some anxious mothers held back, and it is little wonder that they did. But it was not for long, and soon the woman who could wear a pin, with one, two, or more stars in it on her bosom, gloried in it, while she who wore a star of gold, in all her grief still cherished the solemn pride, as Lincoln called it, of having laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of her country. Whether the son was a student or ploughboy, a bootblack or factory hand, or the son of a millionaire, the feeling was the same. In fact, there was a tendency at first among the people at large to suspect the well-to-do and moneyed classes of holding back their sons. This soon wore off; and one of the most inspiring as well as instructive sights I ever saw was on this very island; the parade of war mothers on the Bar Harbor fair grounds; women in all walks of life, some with gold stars on their badges.
College presidents who encouraged the entry of students into military service came in for adverse criticism, but that soon passed, and now that college, the largest percentage of whose students and graduates went into the service, points with the greatest pride to its record in that respect.
I think, however, that the greatest achievement of the war, and the one that makes most for the future safety of our country, is the success of the selective service draft. All the books ever written, all the lectures ever delivered, attacking the pacifistic tendencies of our people, fail to accomplish anything of consequence in comparison with that achievement. Whether our people have undergone a great psychologic change I know not. It is certain that at no time previously had they submitted willingly to be drawn into service. For a century and a quarter militia and volunteers were the basis of the armed power on land. During the Civil War drafting meant riots. During all our prior history bounties for enlistment were an accepted fact.
Some of us may have looked into General Uptons great book called the Military Policy of the United States. Until recently it was withheld, for some reason, from general publication. It is the basis of a later work by another author, The Military Unpreparedness of the United States, which appeared about 1916. Both exhibit in startling fashion the fundamental evils of volunteering and bounties. But not until the stress of this great war did the old theories give way. We had a real man as Provost Marshal General, and his name is Enoch H. Crowder, and my own University (Princeton) and others as well, honored themselves recently by conferring the LL.D. degree on him. I care not whether he evolved the draft machinery himself or whether it was suggested by others. Probably it was a result of both processes; at least he knew a good thing when he saw it, and, like other large men, was unconcerned about whose idea it was. Here was the problem: several million men of age 21 to 31 to be listed, with particulars about them; those available for military service to be selected; from these, a certain number to be drawn by lot. The system used in the Civil War was hopelessly inadequate; army officers could not be spared to supervise the lists; how were the names to be obtained? How recorded? How drawn?
The origin of the fundamental plan was told me by General Crowder himself on the day when he received his Princeton degree. He said that he was in his office racking his brain for a method of registry that would not take a year to operate, when a Congressman came in, and to him he told his difficulties. The interview terminated much like that of Alice in Wonderland and the Caterpillar, who told her how to change her height as it crawled off through the herbage. As the anonymous Congressman was going out through the door, he said over his shoulder: If they can elect a President in one day, they can register in one day. Let us thank God that the General had good ears, and excellent communication between them and an active brain. Elect in one day—48 States; each with so many counties; each county having so many municipalities; each municipality so many election districts; civil, not military, officers for all of them; officers known to and knowing the people; Governors; mayors, election boards. Why not? Here is the machinery ready made, and at hand! All that is needed is to get it going. Forty-eight Governors responded enthusiastically; all forty-eight kept the great secret ready to pass it on to local officials; the result we all know.
Two other things were needed; the willingness of those that were of draft age to come and say so; and the confidence of the public in a fair drawing. The latter was secured by the use of master numbers applicable to every district; the former came naturally as a result of the system itself. Every man of draft age became qualifiedly a volunteer, and marched to the polling place, saying: Here I am when wanted. To this the abolition of bounties and substitutes, the curses of the old system, largely contributed.