In giving the story and the opinions of a Jewish chaplain in the American Expeditionary Forces, some statement is necessary of the work of the chaplains as a whole. Chaplains are an essential part of the organization of a modern army and it is notable that General Pershing repeatedly requested that the number of chaplains be doubled in the forces under his command. Hardly a narrative of soldiers' experiences exists without due place being given to the chaplain. In every army in France, chaplains were frequently cited for heroism and in innumerable instances suffered and died with the men in the ranks.

There are two popular impressions of the purpose of the chaplain in the military service; the one sees him as a survival of mediÆvalism, blessing the weapons of the men at arms; the other welcomes him as a faint harbinger of a dawning humanitarianism, one of the few men in an army who does not have to kill, but is there to save. Some people think of the physician and chaplain as having non-military work to do, as being a kind of concession to the pacific spirit of our generation.

The actual work of the chaplain is quite as unknown to the general public. People wonder what he does between weekly sermons, much as they wonder what the minister or rabbi does during the six and a half days a week that he is not preaching. In fact, I have been greeted with frank or hidden incredulity whenever I admitted that in the army I used to preach up to fifteen times a week, but never had time to write a sermon. People wonder sometimes whether the soldiers and sailors can bear so much preaching, sometimes what else they demand of the chaplain. In fact, to the non-military mind the whole subject seems shrouded in mystery.

To the military man the subject is extremely simple. There is no mystery about it. The chaplain is in the army as the physician is, as the thousands of other non-combatants are, for a strictly military purpose. It happens that the non-combatants may use non-military methods. One may drive a locomotive, another carry a stretcher, another sit in an office and make out papers. All are essential to the military machine; none is in the service for any special humanitarian purpose; none is present as a survival of mediÆvalism, but all to take part in the grim conflict of the twentieth century. The work of a physician in the military service is the very utilitarian one of saving men's lives and returning them to the front. The work of a chaplain is the equally essential and practical one of stimulating the morale of the troops.

Many factors bear upon the morale of a body of men,—their physical environment, the strength and spirit of their individual units, the temper and ability of their leaders. In our army we were very fortunate in the activity of various civilian organizations which labored among the men in the service with the backing of our entire citizenry, or at least of large and influential groups. The home service of the Red Cross and other non-military organizations was of great importance in keeping up the morale of the families left behind and through them of the men overseas. These important organizations, however, were under the handicap of doing civilian work among soldiers—a handicap whose seriousness only a soldier himself can ever realize. Some months after the war was over, the army recognized its obligation by appointing morale officers for both larger and smaller units, with others under them to supervise athletics, entertainment, and the like. The civilian organizations then conducted their activities under the orders of the morale officer.

But nearest of all to the men, because themselves a part of the actual military machine, were their own chaplains. The chaplain was under the same orders as the men, took the same risk, wore the same uniform, and naturally was regarded in every way as one of their own. I have even heard old army men scorning the new advances of all these new war-time societies. "We have our own chaplain," they said, "He looks after us all right."

The chaplain was first the religious guide of his men. He knew how to talk to them, for talking, not preaching, was the usual tone of the army or navy chaplain. He knew how to speak their own "lingo," slang and all. He knew the spiritual appeal which was most needed by these boys, transplanted, with all their boyishness, into the deep realities which few men have had to face. He knew their boyish shyness of emotion, but with it their deep, immediate need of such emotions as the love of home and God, to sustain them amid dangerous hours of duty and tempting hours of idleness. This religious need alone would have been enough work for the chaplain, even with the intended increase in numbers to three per regiment, or one chaplain for every twelve hundred men. The need for religion was evident in the training camp, the hospital, the transport, the trenches; it was evident everywhere, and the chaplain must be everywhere to satisfy it.

But in addition the chaplain had much welfare work of a more general kind to transact in connection with the various welfare agencies. One man wanted advice about getting married before leaving for the front; another had trouble at home and desired a furlough; another found himself misplaced in his work and would like a transfer. A Jewish boy came in to ask that a letter be written to his pious father; the old man had not wanted him to enlist, but would feel better if he knew there was a rabbi in the camp. Another had a request for a small service (a minyan) that he might say the memorial prayer on the anniversary of his father's death. And still another presented a letter from his home community, for he was a fine musician and wanted to help out at a concert or a "sing."

The many requests for service and the occasional offers of service made the circuit constantly from a possible teacher to a number of boys with defective English, from a potential comedy team to a crowd of eager listeners, from a timid boy with personal troubles to their remedy, either by a change in circumstances or by convincing the boy himself. Sometimes a complaint of religious prejudice had to be adjusted which might work grave harm in a company unless it were investigated and either proved groundless or remedied.

In a later chapter I shall have an opportunity to go into this more deeply. All that I want to bring out here is the important and usually misunderstood fact that American boys are restive under authority. They object vigorously to the domination of another's mind over theirs. And this objection too often took the form of bitter resentment against their officers. Therefore the final and most delicate work of the chaplain was to befriend the enlisted men against the oppression of their natural enemies and tyrants, the line officers. The army often reminds one of a school, the men are so boyish. In this rÉgime of stringent rules which must be constantly obeyed, of short periods of intense and jovial recreation, of constant oversight by authority, the average enlisted man regarded his commanding officer much as the average small boy regards his school teacher, from whom he flees to a parent for sympathy.

That rÔle of sympathetic parent was precisely the one which the chaplain was called upon to play for these boys in uniform. Not that he believed everything he was told, or took sides unfairly, or was always against authority. Simply that any boy could talk to him, as he could only to the exceptional commanding officer, and that every boy was sure that the chaplain would help him if he could. Being himself an officer, the chaplain could talk to officers more freely than any soldier could. And not being a line officer, he did not himself issue commands to any one except his own hard-worked orderly or clerk.

Thus the chaplain was fortunately placed. If he was even partially congenial, he was the one man in the army who had not an enemy high or low. The soldier looked to him for friendly aid. The officer referred to him as the great coÖperating factor in building up the spirit of the troops.

During the stress of actual warfare the work of the chaplain changed in character though not in purpose. At the front the chaplain was with his boys. During a "push" he took his station at the first-aid post and worked from there as the first place to meet the wounded and dying who needed his physical or spiritual aid. He stood beside the surgeon on the battle field, he was with the stretcher-bearers searching for wounded and bringing them to safety. He rode from post to post with the ambulance driver, or tramped up to the trenches with a ration party. And wherever he went he was welcomed for his presence and for the work that he tried to do.

After a battle, when the men retired to rest and recuperate, the chaplain had to remain behind. He stayed with a group of men for the last terrible task of burying the dead. And when, that sad duty over, he returned to the troops in rest, he could not yield for a time like the others, to delicious languor after the ordeal of the battle field, hospital and cemetery. Then the chaplain must take up his round of duties, knowing that after the battle there is many a prayer to be said, many a hospital to be visited, many a soldier to be befriended. His task has just begun.

The military object of the chaplain is clear, to stimulate the morale of the men. But his methods were most unmilitary. Instead of reminding the men of the respect due him as an officer, the wise chaplain took his salutes as a matter of course and tried to draw the men personally, to make them forget all about military distinctions when they came to talk to him. The minute a chaplain insisted upon his rank as an officer, he lost his influence as a minister. Rank was useful to the chaplain in so far as it gave him free access to the highest authorities; it became the greatest obstacle to his work whenever the boys began to talk to him as "Lieutenant" or "Captain" instead of "Father" or "Chaplain." In the military as in the civil field the religious message can come only by personality, never by command.

The chaplain appealed for the men whenever he felt that the appeal was justified and had some chance of success, but never when it would be subversive of military discipline. He remembered always that he was in the army, a part of a great military machine, and that his presence and his work were to make the men better, not worse soldiers. He met the men personally, with their various needs and appeals, and often his best work was accomplished in short personal interviews, which would not look at all imposing on a monthly report, but which made better soldiers or happier men in one way or another. He encouraged every effort at recreation for the men, and often took part in these efforts himself. This last applies especially in the navy, where the chaplain aboard ship is the whole staff for religious, recreational, and welfare work.

In the main the work of the chaplain differed little, whatever his religion might be. He was first of all a chaplain in the United States Army, and second a representative of his own religious body. That means that all welfare work or personal service was rendered equally to men of any faith. The only distinction authorized was between Protestant, Catholic and Jewish services, and even to these a "non-sectarian" service was often added. Wherever I went I was called upon by Jew and non-Jew alike, for in the service most men took their troubles to the nearest chaplain irrespective of his religion. The soldier discriminated only in a special case, such as the memorial prayer (kaddish) for the Jewish boy, or confession for the Catholic. The office at once insured any soldier that he had a protector and a friend.

But as there were only twelve Jewish chaplains in the entire American Expeditionary Forces, we were instructed to devote our time so far as possible to the Jewish men. At the best it was impossible for one man to fulfill the constant religious and personal needs of the thousand Jewish soldiers scattered in all the units of an entire division, as I, for one, was supposed to do. When instead of one division a Jewish chaplain was assigned several, his troubles were multiplied and his effectiveness divided. Naturally, most of the work of the Jewish chaplains had to be devoted to the needs of the Jewish soldiers, which would not otherwise be satisfied.

Any one who witnessed the labor and the self-sacrifice of chaplains of all creeds in the American army must preface an analysis of their work with a heartfelt tribute to the men themselves. I think that these men were a unique aggregation—devoted to their country and its army, yet loving men of all nations; loving each his own religion, yet rendering service to men of all creeds; bearing each his own title, yet sharing equal service and equal friendship with ministers of every other faith. I could never have accomplished one-half of the work I did without the constant friendship and hearty support of such co-workers as Father Francis A. Kelley and Rev. Almon A. Jaynes, of the 27th Division Headquarters, to mention only two notable examples among many others. I have seen Father Kelley on the battlefield going from aid post to front line trench, always most eager to be with the boys when the danger was the greatest, always cheerful, yet always a priest, doing the noble work which won him his medals and his popularity. I have seen the devotion and the regret which followed Chaplain John A. Ward of the 108th Infantry to the hospital in England after he was wounded in performance of duty, and the burst of enthusiasm which welcomed his return months afterward. I have seen one after another laboring and serving in the same spirit, and I tender to them the tribute of a co-worker who knows and admires their great accomplishments.

The place of morale in the army has not yet been studied scientifically. All that can be done as yet is to gather such personal and empirical observations as mine, which may have bearing on the general problem. These experiences were typical and these conclusions are not mine alone. They are shared by great masses, in many cases by the majority of thinking men who had like experiences. I am here setting down the most typical of the incidents which I saw or underwent and summing up the little known work of the Jewish chaplains and the Jewish Welfare Board overseas.