Dear Mother:—

It rained in the night, and between showers I went out and fixed the cap of the tent, loosening also the cords. If we don’t attend to these latter as soon as rain begins they are likely to shrink and tear the canvas, or perhaps pull up the tent pegs. And if everything holds till morning, then the job of loosening the ropes, even with three men to each, is considerable. But I was in time. In the morning it was cloudy, but we had dry weather for our baths and breakfast, and for making up our packs. Then the rain began to patter, and we to groan. The bugle blew, and we stood expectant at the doors of our tents, waiting for the whistle. We awaited the order, “full equipment, ponchos over all,” but the call came, “non-commissioned officers, with their drill regulations, at the head of the street.” The corporals and sergeants went, the privates in the tents cheered madly, and now we are awaiting what may happen next.

So in the interval, just a few words about our proficiency, and our partial failure so far. We haven’t done very well, and that’s a fact. We march badly, losing distance, interval, and alignment; we dress slowly, we fall in with much delay, and our various manoeuvres are done with much hesitation and uncertainty. For all this the captain has, as the boys say, plentifully “bawled us out,” constantly working us more than any other officer has done in the battalion. We can’t deny that we are ragged and slovenly, but why is it?

To begin with we are trying to do, as the captain acknowledges, more than could be hoped of ordinary recruits, we being (ahem!) of the intelligent class. But intellectually we are uneven, some of us plainly not being born to be soldiers, so that with the best of will they lag. Again, the Plattsburg movement has reached the stage in which the men have not all come with the same impulse to serve the country, a considerable proportion being, as it were, substitutes, being sent by the public spirit of employers who cannot come themselves. The motive is excellent, and they choose, I make no doubt, the best men available among their clerks. But not all of these are suitable material, some being here for a lark, and some being too young to be serious. Such fellows impede the progress of the others. When the movement takes still wider scope, or when we reach the stage of compulsory general training, evidently the leaven that pretty successfully leavens this lump will then, being much diluted, have harder work to do, and to make the mob into a regiment will take double the time. Finally, I have already spoken of another of our weaknesses, the inexperience of our non-coms. Most of our corporals are here for the first time; many of the sergeants, though familiar with the corporal’s job, are new at the higher work. Indeed some of them have never worn stripes before. They are therefore so necessarily intent on guarding against their own mistakes (which still are plentiful) that they can’t give enough attention to the blunders of the men. Nor, as I have said, do I think that the professional non-com will help us here, unless specially chosen for understanding the Plattsburger. The martinet drill-sergeant whose severities the docile German may bear, would never be tolerated among us. What we need is to make it a matter of pride for the veterans of one camp to come back and serve as corporals in the next and as sergeants in the next. With regular non-coms in the way there is no chance for the civilian to make himself a valuable reserve man; but if he can be tempted by promotion to come again and yet again, he is not only now serving the training cause better than anyone else can, but he is building up a body of responsible men whom the country can call upon at need.

Theories, my dear mother, theories. I will test them on the hike.

—It is the end of a day which I shall look back upon with respect. Curious that when at breakfast someone asked me if I found the work strenuous, I answered that so far I had not found it strenuous at all. Since when we have had our heaviest day’s work.

The weather was showery and chilly, and the non-coms returned from their conference with orders for us to wear sweaters and ponchos. Being put into close battalion formation, we were informed by the major that an enemy had landed at Keesville, some twenty-odd miles south, and that we were to march out and get in touch with him. So our three companies followed the first battalion along the road to AuSable, having out the proper patrols—point and communicating files and rear guard, with combat patrols—and we found ourselves on a real hike.

It was tramp, tramp, tramp on the hard macadam all the way. Now remember that though we have been on hard roads some part of every day, we have mostly been on gravel or the turf of the fields and the parade ground. So we weren’t really toughened to the work. The weather bothered us also. The ponchos came off after a while, then we got heated in the sun, and were feeling the weight of our sweaters when the clouds closed in and a shower came. Thus it changed most of the time. Every forty-five to fifty minutes we stopped to rest, spread our ponchos, and lay down. To be exact, after the first forty-five minutes we rested fifteen, and after each succeeding fifty we rested ten. We marched nearly four miles, then turned back. Our company was now second in the column, but none of the patrol duty fell to me, for which I was rather glad, as a heel began to bother me.

A man from Squad Seven fell out from the column. “This finishes the camp for me,” he said ruefully as he left us. He has rigid arches, and it seems that the doctors have warned him that he could not stand the marching. He sat and waited for some kind motorist, and after an hour passed us, comfortable in a limousine. There were others among us who got pretty weary; but on the other hand there were plenty, I am glad to say, who were not tired, and whistled and sang most of the way, to the advantage of those who felt weary. Some of these blades spying a couple of bold damsels, cried “Eyes Right!” at which they giggled. But the captain made us march at attention, and explained, when we got back to camp, that we were expected to mind our manners in the presence of the other sex (or as he put it, persons in female attire) else we might be sure of marching at attention for the whole of the way.

We were back at the usual time, after seven miles and a half, and I, wet from inside and from out, was glad to wash and change and find leisure to inspect my troublesome heel, on which I found two blisters which Clay, being as I told you a medico, skilfully doctored.

But there was no rest for the weary. I foolishly rejoiced when I escaped the work of helping to make up the shooting records, also (perhaps not so foolishly) when the typhoid sufferers were taken to be inoculated for the third time. But while the captain supervised the company clerks, the lieutenant, in anticipation of a regimental parade, took us out on the field. See how carefully it was done. As we were but the fraction of a company he lined us up and made up squads afresh, a corporal to each, then instructed us in our parade work, and drilled us for two hours. Having my two blisters, I did not enjoy it, and the men were groaning all around me. He was as hard to please as the captain; once, looking back along the line as we marched company front, he said, “The ancestors of this bunch certainly must have been a lot of snakes!” But I’ll venture to say that none of us, after this, will forget how to oblique in making the turn.

After ten minutes’ rest, we were taken to calisthenics, after which I anticipated a good loaf. But no, we were assembled, the whole regiment, for a conference concerning our return home by government aid, the major and a railroad agent instructing us in the terms. I was glad to find that I can simply go home on my return ticket, and let the treasury department pay me when it’s good and ready; and after standing in line for half an hour I was able to state my intention to do this.

There was then just time to change for the parade, which was partly interesting, partly tedious. Thanks to the lieutenant’s drill, we made no mistakes, though at one time we had to make our way at company front among the boxes and barrels strewed in the neighborhood of the quartermaster’s shack. Lieutenant Pendleton briefly said, when we were back in the street, “You did well.” And the captain, who left the scoring long enough to watch the parade, joked us on being mountain goats.

The blisters are no worse for the afternoon’s work. It is raining steadily. Love from