Volume 1 Issue 12


DECEMBER 24, 1917



Practically no case of contagion Here, According to Division Surgeon.

            Camp Upton ‘s health record is of the sort that would force doctors out of business in civil life and drape undertaking establishments with some of their own conventional black.  It is a health record, in very truth, the amount of sickness being so small that it could hardly be called a sick record.

            Although the weather conditions of the past few days have been calculated to increase certain kinds of sickness, only seven cases of pneumonia no one case of diphtheria are reported, with no cases of typhoid, para-

Typhoid, meningitis, scarlet fever or dysentery, according to Col. C.R. Reynolds, Division Surgeon.  There are a number of measles  cases admitted to the “sick report” is given by Col. Reynolds as nineteen per thousand, less than one-half the rate for the soldiers in the entire National Army.  Inasmuch as admissions to the report include many cases not actually sick but for examination, observation and discharge the smallness of this percentage can be better grasped.  The rate for all diseases, and especially communicable diseases, is very small compared with all the camps and cantonments, the fact that there were only eight cases of serious contagion when Col. Reynolds gave an interview to a Trench and Camp representative, being convincing evidence of this.  There have been only three deaths from diseases contracted since the camp was started.

            In fact, there have been only fourteen deaths in the entire three months in camp, the pro-German rumors circulated in New York and elsewhere as to “hundreds of men dying”” to the contrary notwithstanding.   Three of the fourteen were due to the railroad accident and two were away from cam, one of these being a a result of accident injuries.


Christmas At Camp Upton is “According To Regulation”

Turkey, Ornamented Trees, Santa Claus and Yule Log All on Bill of Fare.


With Yule logs crackling in the fireplaces, turkey and fixin’s for dinner, gayly bedecked and lighted trees in scores of buildings, Santa Claus, aided and abetted by the United States mail, and express companies delivering gifts galore and with a general holiday spirit pervading the air – really now, Christmas in camp isn’t half bad.

The Yuletide marks a brief but thoroughly enjoyable recreation spell between the beginnings and completion of the serious work for which the 77th and other divisions throughout the country were organized. Leave has been granted to as many Upton men as the War Department would permit. With respect to leave the men at Upton were more fortunate than many of their brothers in khaki.

Relatives, friends and general public of New York have seen to it that the soldiers in camp will lack nothing that goes to make Christmas complete and as enjoyable as possible under the circumstances.. There will be all the gastronomic delights a king would want to tickle his palate and there will be a mirth and gaiety with a minimum of military duty.

The soldiers in camp who have relatives in New York may rest assured that their loved ones will have a Merry Christmas, for special honors will be accorded such families by admiring citizenship, which appreciates the service of the men at Upton.



Manhattan Opera House Well Filled –
Movies of Camp Shown

            True to the fine form established as a standard for regimental benefits, the show sponsored by the 304th Field Artillery in the Manhattan Opera House, New York, was a gratifying success to the backers and a substantial sum was realized for the regimental fund, the manager of the theatre characterizing it as the biggest benefit his house has ever had.

            Sam Bernard, whose nephew, Dave Jones, is a bugler in Battery D. opened the party as Master of Ceremonies with the following star acts some of the other features of the bill:  Louis Mann, Conroy and Lemaire, Florenz Tempest, Hattie Lorraine Martinique Revue, Hess and Bennett, Rector’s Jazz Band, Anatol Friedlander and L. Wolfe Gilbert, Frank Gordon, Mme. Palanowski, Russian dancer; Mme. Ohlman, Camp Upton Four, Reed and MacManus, 304 F.A.  The regimental band and a chorus of sixty voices also took a prominent place on the programme.  A moving picture, now regiment property, was shown.  The film depicted a soldier in the making with scenes of the artillerymen at work and drill.

            A committee of four officers and a man from each battery supervised the affair, with a board of managers composed of Bugler Dave Jones, Battery D. chairman; Corp. Murray, Battery D; Prvt. Horwitz, Battery A. and Sergt, Wallace, Supply Company.






            Company D, 307th Infantry, pulled a party recently of some considerable uniqueness.  It was a “blow” on the Bugler, the company news organ, which has had a steady growth under the steady guidance of Milton Weill, editor in chief.  A dinner from funds realized on subscriptions was the “main works” of the evening.  Lieut. Col. Smith, Major Gardiner, Capt, Spoonder, Regimental Adjutant; Lieut. Francis Walsh, Chaplain: Capt Hastings, Mr. Reed, Y.M.C.A., and others were honor guests, short addresses being made by several.

            The following programme numbers were enjoyed:  “All Together, Boys,” Moore and De Carnis; vocal explosions, Herbert L. Wolfe;  “As Harry Lauder Would Sing,”  Larry Flatley; jig, Corp. William Dickson; The Incomparable Four, Moore, Muhling, De Carnis and Sergt. Trapp; Highland Fling, Sergt. C. Jackson and Larry Flatley, Thomas Bracken at the harmonica; son, Sergt. Ben Weber; the same, Sergt. Trapp;  Jack Moore at the piano and Louis Stauff at the mandolin.  The Bugler plans to make these dinners weekly company affairs.




            THE MEN OF Upper J section are acquiring the habit of attending theatres “en Masse.”  Recently through the agency of their officers the 407th Motor Supply Train secured 200 complimentary seats for the show at the Winter Garden and 200 for the Columbia.  At the Columbia the boys found special preparations for their welcome, the theatre being decorated in classy style and extra acts put on batch of men, this time form the Quartermaster Corps, were invited to the Winter Garden and, headed by Jack Aldrich, who was for twelve years connected with the Winter Garden show, and Lieut. Stumpf, who is a great favorite with the men, 200 of them left for the Big City.  The boys want to use these columns to thank the managements of the above theatres for giving them a good big time.


            That bonds are being forged here in town between men and officers the strain of fighting of harder task ahead is sure.  The following communication is published as evidence:  Editor Trench and Camp, Camp Upton, New York.

            Dear Sir:  Will you kindly make it known through your paper that the boys of the 302d Trench Mortar Battery are in a sad state.  Hereafter this day will be known as Blue Monday, for on this day Lieut. Darley Randall left us, being transferred to another outfit.  During his short stay as lieutenant of our battery the boys have become very much attached to him, and it was with deepest regret we learned of his sudden transfer.  He carries with him the best wishes of the boys for his future welfare and success.
Thanking you, we are Yours truly,



            Camp Dix, Wrightstown, N.J., believes in reducing sits music to regulation four-part stuff.  “A quartet in every company,” is the slogan of the camp song leader, W. Stanley Hawkins.


            Camp Shelby, Hattlesburg, Miss., passed out gold, silver and bronze medals to the winners of the big Thanksgiving Day athletic meet.  Clark Griffith, manager of the Washington American League Baseball Club, has given the Shelby fighters fifty baseball outfits.


            An inter-fraternity club has been organized at Camp Doniphan, Fort Sill, Okla., to make it easy for college Greeks to know who’s who.


            The Upton thespian germ is spreading.  Men of Camp Lee, Petersburg, Va., have established a community theatre at which various plays will be staged.  Henry V., by Will Shakespeare, the dead English playwright, will be given, and it is rumored that the Lee boys will stage an all-home talent piece by the same author, called “Lear.”


            An American sailor, Charles Allen, stationed at Newport News, flew 1,023 miles to the bedside of his dying mother at Dugoin, Ill, within ten hours of receiving word of her illness.  Lieut.  Hanson McCann, a naval filer, was ordered by the commanding officer to take his fastest plane for the trip.  It would have taken two days by the fastest train.




            The Wadsworth Gas Attack wand Rio Grande Rattler, Trench and Camp’s stepsister at Spartanburg, S.C., has a society page, edited by a woman.  Considerable society!


            In the Camp Logan edition of Trench and Camp two items are placed in significant juxtaposition.  One is headed “Camp Officers Signed Conservation Pledge,” and the other has the somewhat conflicting title, “Thirteen Soldiers Bought Marriage Licenses.”


            The 39th Division Headquarters Troop, Camp Beauregard, La., has the Southern States jazzing record thus far.  The horses are groomed to jazz strains and a detachment from the jazzers  occupies the troop’s motorcycle side-car and plays an accompaniment to the motor music.


            Milt Gross, one time Upton Depot Brigadier and cartoon contributor to Upton’s Trench and Camp, has been making a full-sized hit with cartoons in the Atlanta Constitution of soldier life at Camp Gordon.




            Every soldier has someone who is thinking and wishing well about him.  But perhaps no one is in quite the situation of Stuart Sage, Machine Gun Company, 307th Infantry, whose two former little film pals who “worked with him in the pictures” remember with pride their big brother now with Uncle Sam.  The Lee children, William Fox’s Baby Grand Stars are the tads – Jane and Katherine.  There is a bond which is still “reel” between the two and the Upton machine gunner.  Sage is one of the 307th’s star stage folk.  “The argyle Case,” “Help Wanted,” “Baby Mine,” “Are You My Wife?”  and “Old Lady 31” are some of the pieces in which he has played leading roles.




            It seems that Sergt. Stoner is fond of pie.  He is in the neighborhood of the Q.M.C. Commissary store at some part of about every afternoon.  We watched him attach a big, juicy mince pie the other day.  He seemed to find the bottom crust to be rather tough.  We pointed out to him that he had neglected to remove the pie from the paper plate.  He had chewed up about four square inches of the cardboard.




            Another boxer gone out of the ring!  News comes that jack Moses, one time Champion Featherweight of the East Side and now of Camp Upton, intends to retire.  He is quitting not for the usual reason (!) but because there are no opponents with whom he can get even fair practice.  His latest victim was Benny Valoger, whom he met in Philadelphia last Wednesday night in the semi-finals to the Leonard-Kline fight and disposed of in two rounds of fast going.  If there is any man at Camp Upton weighing 122 to 125 wishing to take this wonder on, let him send his challenge to the Veterinary Corps, 210 16th Street, and Jack Moses will accommodate him.




            The care of the eyes has been the subject of talks delivered in camp by G.L. Berry, Field Secretary of the National Committee for the Prevention of Blindness.  Mr. Berry’s Lectures have been given in the Y.M.C.A. huts.





Dr. Samuel Schulman Says America Is In War to Win Nationhood –Condemns Pacifists at Hanukah Festival

          “We are in the war to prove that brutal power and might are not the greatest things, and we are to make it impossible for a people, trained in forty years of blood-and0iron and relying on brutal power, to rule the world.  America, which is a country unique in being founded not on racialism, but on a moral ideal, will emerge from the war with its nationhood established.”


          The Rev. Dr. Samuel Schulman, rabbi of Temple Beth-El, New York City, reduced thus to spiritual terms the reason why this country is at war in an address at the Hanukah festival.  When a large audience of Camp Upton Jews gathered to commemorate the triumphs of the Maccbees.  Dr. Schulman congratulated his fellow-Hebrews on their opportunity to serve their country and invited them to take the Maccabecan spirit and use it for American purposes.


Condemns the Pacifist

          Said he further in part:  “It is not so much the might of armies as the spirit of officers and men which wins victory for a people. I invite you to take the wonderful spirit of those Maccabeean heroes with you.  It is four-fold, this spirit:  Faith in God, loyalty to land and people, heroic courage, modesty and humility.  Antiochus Epiphanes, drunk with his own vanity and relying on military power attempted to root out the soul of Israel, which was grounded in the living God.  That spirit of might is the same as has been shown to-day by the ruler who speaks sneeringly of our “contemptible little army!”  there is no more ignoble sentiment than I would rather be a living coward than a dead hero,” because it reduces man to the level of the brute.  The world doesn’t remember the dead coward but it does remember the dead heroes – those who fought for freedom and for an indestructible union.  Nothing great can be secured without paying the price.  It is not dying so much as the way we’ve lived.  We should exalt and sanctify life and then filing it away with sublime self-forgetfulness.  A sentence in the Bible which isn’t quoted much is one from Joel:  “The plough-shares shall be beaten into swords and the pruning-hooks into spears.”  For the successful issue of this great war we must merge our individuality into the will of nation.  There is no room for the hyphen, and after the war there will be no such thing.  You are the American people, and you will vindicate honor and justice”

Impressive Services

          The beautiful and impressive Hanukah service was in charge of Dr. Schulman, with the Rev. Simon Schlager, cantor of Temple Emanu-El, and quartet assisting – Renee Schieber, soprano; Dolphine Marsh, contralto; Harry Burleigh, basso, and B. Fromenson, tenor, G.H. Faderlein was the accompanist.  The service was as follows:  Evening service, Haskivenu, Amidah; hymn, “Kindle the Tapers,” choir; Sh’ma Yisroel, Lighting the Candles, Rabbi and Cantor; Hanukah Hymn, “Mo-Oz Tzur;” “rock of Ages,” congregation and choir; Sermon, Dr. Samuel Schulman; Star Spangled Banner; continuation of service, Mourners’ Kaddish; prayer for the Government, Rabbi Adon Olam, Cantor and Choir; Benediction, Rabbi.

          The Hanukah observance was under the auspices of Ordeer B’nai B’rith, District No. 1, and the Jewish Board for Welfare work.  Cigars and cigarettes were distributed to the soldiers at the festival.



          The story of Alfred O’Connor – “O’Connor of the Life Guards” – Brooklyn boy who became inflamed with stories of German atrocities and rushed off to London to enlist in the first days of the war, has been listened to with great eagerness by Upton men recently.  Charles Wavland Towne, to Whom O’Connor, now in this country, disabled by wounds, told his story, has been the re-counter.

          The boys here have also been greatly interested in a poem – “258” – by Mr. Towne, published in the New York Tribune shortly after the draft, and which he has recited here.  The subject of the verses has been called the third most dramatic moment in American history, ranking with the signing of the Declaration of Independence and Lincoln’s signing of the Emancipation Proclamation.  It was the drawing by Secretary Baker of the first gelatin cube from the glass bowl in which were the draft numbers. “258” was the first number drawn.  The poem follows:


It was only a scrap of paper,
Enclosed in a crystal ball,
But it carried the Hope of half the world,
And spelled the Fate of all.


Not since the Arab ciphered,
Or Egypt graved on stone,
Have figures drawn from freedom’s pawn
Such wealth of blood and bone.

For figures were things of business,
Of diagram, map and chart -
The barren dross of profit and loss,
The mummers of the mart.

Till Destiny seized a tablet,
and took in her hand a pen,
and, scorning shame, plunged into a game
Whose stakes were a million men.

There where the elders gathered -
Exalted of heart and soul –
At her command, a groping hand
Drew a cube from the teeming bowl.

And one broke the seal, and another
Wrote the answer down on a slate;
Then, shrill and high, rose the echoing cry:
“Two Hundred and Fifty-eight!”

“Two Hundred and Fifty-eight,” you say,
“Merely a gambling score!”
Twas a prisoned soul that leaped from the bowl
And loosed a million more.

And be he a sallow stripling,
Or an athlete, hard and brown,
Be he the scum of a city’s slum,
Or a monocle man-of-the-town.

Be he poverty’s foundling,
Or the pet of a potentate,
His eye is alight as he reads to-night:
“Two Hundred and Fifty-eight!”

Be he the scion of Yankees,

Or the son of an alien state,
His is the boast, “I lead the host -
“Two Hundred and Fifty-eight!”

And the voice of a hundred million
Goes booming across the sea:
“Two Fifty-eight – heralds of Fate –
“These shall make you free!”


Let the figures fly in a war-torn sky,
Where birdmen train their guns;
Let  them ride the wave, to succor and save,
where the U boat stabs and runs.

Let them flash like swords o’er the Kaiser’s hordes,
Till he yields the Belgian gate;
Let them carry cheer to the listening ear
Of those who stand and wait;
Let them sound the knell of that HUN-

Turkey, Ornamented Trees, Santa Claus
and Yule Log All on Bill of Fare


            With Yule llogs crackling in the fireplaces, turkey and fixin’s for dinner, gaily bedecked and lighted trees in scores of buildings, Santa Claus, aided and abetted by the United States mail and express companies, distributing gifts galore and with a general holiday spirit pervading the air-really now, Christmas in camp isn’t haft bad.

            The Yuletide marks a brief but thoroughly enjoyable recreation spell between the beginning and completion of the serious work for which the 77th and other divisions throughout the country were organized Leave has been granted to as many Upton men as the War Department would permit.  With respect to leave the men at Upton were more fortunate than many of their brothers in Khaki.

            Relatives, friends and general public of New York have seen to it that the soldiers in camp will lack nothing that goes to make Christmas complete and as enjoyable as possible under the circumstances.  There will be all the gastronomic delights a king would want to tickle his palate and there will be mirth and gaiety with minimum of military duty.

            The soldiers in camp who have relatives in new York may rest assured that their loved ones will have a Merry Christmas, for especial honors will be accorded such families by admiring citizenship which appreciates the service of the men at Upton.




          The whole country will join in an effort to show that the happiness of the soldiers is a large consideration at Christmas.

          In every camp and cantonment there will be Christmas greens, and trees; there will be celebrations; there will be thousands upon thousands of presents.

          In the whole army in the United States there will not be a single soldiers, even if he has not a relative in the world, who will be forgotten.

          Abroad the American Christmas will probably excite the envy of the Allied troops.  Christmas dinners such as would be enjoyed at home will replace the regular mess.  Plum-puddings have gone “Over There” by the thousand.  In addition the post office department and the express companies planned weeks in advance for delivering Christmas boxes to the soldiers on Christmas morning.

          The Young Men’s Christian Association of course will play a leading part in making Christmas a real festival.  Entertainments have been arranged in all of the Y.M.C.A. buildings and tents.  Some well known players have promised to assist in the Christmas festivities.  Singers, violinists, pianists – all who could bring Christmas cheer have volunteered their services.

          To plan for the Christmas festivities meant weeks of work for the Young Men’s Christian Association authorities.  But a comprehensive plan was worked out and no building at any of the camps will be without an attractive program.

          In the communities near the training camps there has been the most eager evidence of a desire to cooperate.  Every family that can possibly do so have arranged to “take a soldier home” and the fighting men of this country who do not remain in camp, and yet do not have furlough to visit their own homes, will sit by a warm fireside and dine again at a real table.

          How many thousands of homes will be open to the soldiers is impossible to estimate.  But it is a certainty that every soldier who can leave a camp will find a fireside waiting for him.

          The offices of chaplains and adjutants have been busy places during these days preceding Christmas receiving all the invitations for the men and working out a plan so that everyone could be accepted, and so that there would be no slighting of deserving soldiers.

          The Commission on Training Camp Activities has co-operated with the communities near training camps and enlisted the support of the local churches so that reading rooms and recreation centers will be open.  Some of the churches have arranged to serve dinners to soldiers.

          Another feature of camp life on Christmas Day will be the great carnival of athletics.  All regiments at the various camps have been preparing for this day.  The eagerness has been like that of a college and there has been as much loyalty shown for the different regiments as is shown before college games.

          Christmas Eve in most of the camps will be marked by religious services.  Some of the Catholic priests planned midnight celebrations of The Mass and Episcopal Chaplains planned also to celebrate Holy Communion at the very beginning of Christmas Day.

          There will be regimental services at all of the camps in the morning hours, usually at the same time as Sunday services.

          Then there will be an hour or two of idleness – a strange pastime in a modern training camp – and then Christmas Dinner!

          Probably no army in the world’s history has had Christmas anticipated for it in such a manner as has the American Army.  But the men in Trench and camp will be made to feel that the home fires are burning.




          The British troops in the Sinai Desert, in Palestine, have found a way to make their feet as sand-worthy as the camel’s.  By weaving a stiff network or heavy wire and attaching it to their shoes.  They are able to travel overt the finest sand without sinking ankle deep in it, says Popular Science Monthly.  They have adopted the principle of the snow-shoe.

          It is said to be physically impossible for a man to walk over desert sand for more than two days with ordinary shoes.  At the end of that time the toes and heels became painfully inflamed and the skin comes off.  No double the troops suffered untold agony before they devised the sand-shoes.



          A Michigander made a goose of himself and boosted the Kaiser with-in the hearing of some loyal Americans.  With scissors and razor they cut an iron cross in his hair, painted the word “Hun” in red letters across his forehead and sent him home.

The Problem of the Prisoners


A Graphic Story of Life in Prison Camps and Their

“Atmosphere of Heartaches” Told by a Man Who has

Ministered to the Captives of Many Nations


BY Marshall M. Bartholomew


          He was only about nineteen.  He was cheerful and he looked so well that as I went to his bedside I remarked:

          “You don’t seem to have much the matter with you.”

          “I haven’t,” he replied.

          “Why don’t you, then, come out and enjoy the sunshine?”

          “I can’t,” he said quietly.

          In answer to my “Why not?” he turned down the bed covering and showed me that he had no feet.


          He was a prisoner of war in one of the camps abroad and he personified the problem that confronts welfare workers.  There maws something of the spirit of Nathan Hale in the boy – for he was nothing more than country my life and they have taken only my feet.”


A Humanitarian Task

          Helping men like that who are helpless themselves is one of the great humanitarian tasks of the war.


          Unless one sees at first hand, he finds it difficult to comprehend the problem of the prisoners.  We read in news reports of 100,000 captured in a single battle.  We admire the genius of the military leader who accomplished the feat – and then we forget.


          One day I was in a railroad accident.  A moment before I had been eating a quiet meal in the dining car.  Without any warning I was plunged into a chaos of dead, dying and terror-stricken people.  That night has left upon my memory an unforgettable picture- the mangled corpses lying in the snow, the cries of the wounded from under the wreckage; the black, endless forest that stretched on both sides of the wreck.  I dream of it sometimes at night and wake in a cold perspiration; every detail of that night has burned itself into my memory in such a way that I shall carry the picture vividly real as long as I live.  And yet, in all, there were only about eighty people killed

in this accident.  A few days later I was reading the newspaper report on an action on the western front, where it was estimated that during a few days fighting 50,000 men had been killed or badly wounded.  It came to me with a peculiar shock that this loss of 50,000 people meant infinitely less to me personally than the eighty or ninety whom I had seen with my own eyes.


          In it lies a problem for all of us.  It is almost impossible even partially to visualize the meaning, and share in the facts of what is going on in Europe.  Occasionally something happens of such, staggering importance or such vivid intensity that it refuses to be pigeonholed and remains in the front of our minds, burning its way so hotly that it achieves a permanent place in our memories and always a real influence over our thought lives.  And how shall we visualize the statement that there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 6,000,000 prisoners of war in the prison camps of Europe today?


The Unending Line


          Have you ever watched columns of marching men? Have you felt the thrill in your throat as line after line of strong men tramped rhythmically by to the music of drum and trumpet?  I remember the Dewey parade in New York in celebration of the battle of Manila in 1899.  That was the first great parade that I had ever seen.  From eight in the morning until late in the afternoon regiment after regiment marched past, and yet less than 100,000 men participated in that parade.


          But if the prisoners of war could be mustered together and marched past a given point and you had to stand and watch this weary procession, how your eyes would ache and your heart, too, before it had passed.  No music this time; no joy; no excitement; but broken regiments of weary veterans, muddy, ragged, wounded, discouraged.  Watch them from the windows of your imagination. Marching, marching.  All day today unceasingly they appear, - boys and young men in great number; middle aged men in great number; old men, a few - French-men, Belgians, English, Russians, Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, Turks, Africans, Indians, Australians, Italians.  The march continues tomorrow, and the next day, and on through-the week, and through the next week, night and day, day and night, for over a month before this vast army has passed you by.  What a vast amount of man power is represented in this mass of human beings?


          To the task of conserving this man power, of keeping these men up to a point, at least above deterioration, and perhaps even to better their stand, is the gigantic task to which the Young Men’s Christian Association has dedicated itself.  For the problem is not one primarily of looking out for physical needs.  Even if many of the prisoners of war today are sufficiently well fed and clothed, and housed to maintain life in a healthy condition under ordinary circumstances, they are in captivity, suddenly deprived of their freedom and of the chance to serve their country in the time of greatest need.  More than food, clothing and shelter is necessary.  Idleness, the greatest fee to personality, gets in its most deadly work in the prison camp.  Men worn out with months in the trenches and the excitement and strain of warfare are suddenly plunged into inactivity, are cut off from the world.  The result is one of mental and spiritual, and often moral degeneration.


Hungry for Books


          And how a city Association secretary would chortle with joy to find among the members of his Association men of the talents and capacities that one fins within the barbed wire of a prison camp settlement.  Professors, journalists, lawyers, engineers, skilled artisans, musicians, and so on throughout the range of talents, are at the war=prisoner secretary’s hand to help in the establishment of work in the prison camps.  I recall a camp of somewhere over 5,000, where, with a school which included an equipment of only fifteen text books, three blackboards and about forty benches and tables, we had within a month enrolled 1,700 students in thirty-five courses of study, including five languages, with courses in general science, mathematics up to and including plane and solid geometry, and lectures in various subject.  From eight in the morning until six at night one class after another came into this little school building and forgot their captivity and their homesickness by accupying their minds with one study or another.  In the prison camps, things which at home we have taken for granted and neglected, suddenly assume tremendous value.  Think of a library of 250 books in which every day every book is drawn out, including the dictionary?


          It is so easy to think that the man who has been removed from the conflict and placed in a prison camp is out of the fight. From a moral point of view, however, his fight has really only just begun.  The battle field calls for heroism, but  the prison call a heroism even greater because it calls for that courage patiently to endure monotony, to hold o0ne’s spirit high through weeks of waiting, to suffer and perhaps to die far off from one’s own country, out of touch with home, and alone.


Prisoners Steadily Increase


          The Association has it in its power to save the lives of many, the sanity of many others, and preserve the man power of countless thousands by the work that it is now carrying on in the prison camps.  Is it strange that landing in America, after many months in the atmosphere of heartache, stupendous sacrifice and such magnificent heroism, I felt with a little pang the strain of self complacency, the willingness on the part of so many to forget what is going on the other side – and their duty?  It is impossible at a time like this for Christian men to divide themselves up into Nations when it comes to working for those who are helpless and destitute.        


          Many have given their lives that the whole world might be spiritually quickened.  I wish that I might be one of the many workers who could bring home to us our duty and our responsibility at this time, who could rouse the last phlegmatic heart of every man in America out of any smug complacency which still dwells there.  The work is well begun.  It must be carried on.  The war goes onward, the number of prisoners of war increases; their needs increase.  It is indeed a challenge to the Christian students of America such as has never faced them before.  This is our greatest opportunity to step in and with helpful service and a heart full of the Christian spirit re-kindle and brighten the flame of Christian brotherhood which alone can heal up the wounds and bind together the shattered world.  Jesus said, “Thou shalt love they neighbor”.


          He dare not speak of Loving who can bear that his brothers suffer and die, if by any sacrifice, no matter how great, he may be the means of saving them.



U. S. A. Establishes School for

10,000 Soldiers Abroad




          West Point excited the admiration of every foreign visitor who was privileged to inspect it.  The most frequent comment was “a great school.”  The word “Great” meant in quality; for West Point relatively is not large.


          But :”Somewhere in France” America is erecting a school which in a double sense will be “great” – in fact it will be the largest school of war ever conceived, unless the whole theatre of war is considered as a school.


          It is estimated that 10,000 students will be trained in this school at one time;  Situated in the vicinity of a town whose Roman walls still stand, the school will command a field-glass view of all parts of the institution.


          Already the work of instruction has been begun, and the school will be extended to its full scope as rapidly as possible.


          Classes have been established in trench mortar work; anti-aircraft artillery; anti-aircraft machine gun operations and sanitary work.  Complete divisional units train at one time.


          Soon classes in automatic weapon operation and other phases of infantry fighting will be opened.  In these classes officers will be taught so that they may return to their commands as well equipped instructors.


          With the arrival of some tanks that are expected soon, a school of tank warfare will be opened.


          Most of the instructors are French and British, but a few Americans are members of the faculty.




          First Lieut. Olney of the 204th Field Artillery, in a rattling good address the other night, told the soldiers they should take as their motto “Courage, Cleanliness, Cheerfulness and Courtesy.”  These, he says, are the four essential qualities of a good soldier.  Judging from the applause, the boys think so, too.




           The rafter-lifting, ear-damaging ovation Col. Averill’s lads of the 308th Infantry accorded Joseph A. McAleenan of New York in the Y.M.C.A. Auditorium will go down in history as the largest bulk of noise per cubic foot that ever packed the structure.  Hats, voices, shapely doughboy hands and other articles were thrown carelessly into the air with a fierce enthusiasm and abandon which would make a Bull Moose Convention sound like the gasp of an expiring T. B. victim.  It was all because Mr. McAleenan had adopted the regiment, and they in turn have adopted him.


          The occasion was a regimental Christmas party, with the prominent New Yorker, who has been the god-father of the 308th over since he watched battalion drill with music several weeks ago, as Santa Claus.  His interest hen was os kindled that he supplied each company barrack with a piano, Victoria and athletic equipment. 


          A rattling fine programme of vaudeville was hugely enjoyed as preliminary, under the direction of Lieut.  Bartlett, regimental athletic officer.  The corking regimental song recently composed by Bandmaster Oliver Miller, “The N.K. Averill March,” was played, with the Headquarters Company composing a fine chorus, and the popular commanding office, after congratulating the composer, stepped to the platform amid wild cheering, which attested the , which he is held.  Col. Averill congratulated his men on their wonderful regimental spirit, and introduced Mr. McAleenan, leading three cheers for his friend Joe.  The outburst was terrific in volume and enthusiasm, and it was with difficulty



that the riot of enthusiasm was quelled.  A few modest words from the god-father, and Col. Averill thanked him on behalf of the officers and men of the command.


          The real Christmas feature followed, boxes of smokes and candy being passed out to each man.  Mrs. Evan Morton Evans of New York contributed 200 pounds of candy.


          Some of the livest boxing seen here thus far in the ring same history kept the men on the qui vive until taps became imminent and the hugely successful affair was terminated cheers for “Joe” and bursts of some trailing behind the doughboys – a they marched off to barracks.






          A “Y. M. Bloke” on tour through mess and recreation rooms of the companies in the 306th Infantry was struck with the home touches and the comforts which the boys had wrought out for themselves.  One in particular gave him the cozy feeling of a little halfway house, with red fire roaring and ingle warm, which welcomes the wayfaring man.  Certainly this place must relieve tired minds and bodies  and refresh, as home itself does.  Company B’s quarters were typical of the general run, perhaps” above the average.  Their recreation room has been transformed by the company’s artists, and the writing, library, pool and entertainment sections are appointed par excellence.  Rustic, benches, writing tables, bookcases well stocked with books, mail boxes and mail chutes.  Victroia, cozy corners, piano and pool table are some of the items.  The company barber and tailor are neatly housed.  And the mess hall has a glory all on it own, Sergt. Murray Cross is the guardian angel of the neatest kitchen and mess room this “Y. M. Bloke has ever spied, and he claims to “have been around some, by thunder!”


          But B’s outfit, while perhaps more highly polished than some others, is simply a type.  It embodies the home spirit, which Uptonians have strong.  They’re proud of camp, proud of their company and its quarters, proud of their regiment and its Colonel and officers, proud of the cement walk in front of the barrack, the rows of murmuring pines and hemlocks and of the whole National Army, tooth, hide and tobacco-box.






          No soldier or sailor need worry during his absence in camp or in the trenches about the folks back home, if he will but refer his troubles or anxieties to the Red Cross.  He has only to apply to the Field Director of Red Cross Supplies Service in his camp, or, in the absence of such a director, write to the Home Service director, write to the home Service Bureau at any one of the thirteen Division Headquarters of the Red Cross in the United States – for example, the Potomac Division, 930-32-14th Street, N.W., Washington, D.C. –or else to the Civilian Relief Department of National headquarters of the American Red Cross at Washington.


          No matter how he does it, the word will be forwarded to the Red Cross Chapter wherever his family may be with the request that a Home Service worker visit the home and report back to him in due time.


          Is there sickness in the family?  Is a mortgage on his house coming due?  Is his wife or mother inexperienced in handling money?  Is he uneasy in handling money?  Is he uneasy about one of the children who was inclined to be wayward?  Has he not been hearing from home?  Does he wish to send a reassuring personal message to a mother, or wife, or little children; or any one else near and dear?


          Letters and communications of this kind are now beginning to pour through the Red Cross national, divisional and chapter offices; and thousands of Home Service workers are going daily on these personal errands of service and good will.


          Nobody knows better than does the Red Cross, that even though “Uncle Sam” is a good paymaster, sending his checks, as he does, for allotments and allowances and indemnities and insurance, nevertheless he and his money cannot make up for the absence of husband, father, son, brother; and, for the very good reason that the soldier in camp or at the front is and was more than a paymaster or breadwinner or a bank deposit.  He was the companion, the advisor, the general factotum of the family.


          The whole idea of the Red Cross is to serve as a go-between when and wherever needed, but along with this, to be everything possible in the absence of the man of the household to supply his place; carrying good cheer, heading off trouble, helping to maintain a proper standard of living, and looking forward to a family reunion when the home-coming soldier returns to find his loved ones no worse off, if not indeed better off than at the time of his call to the colors.







          I knew the United States for four ears of peace and I though it was the best country on earth, but I had to see it at war to know what a chunk of “all right” this land of ours is.  I never believed, with some good people, that war was a thing of the past and as dead as the two-toed Titticancus of the Silurian Age, which never did exist.  I have always said war would come – and I have written it again and again – but I was afraid our nation and our people were getting a little soft-like, ripe, old Camembert Cheese.  I take is all back.  We are about as soft and mushy as a piece of case-hardened steel.  There was quite a bit of peace mould on the outside of us, but it wiped off right easily.


          There is a young fellow from across my street who was drafted and went to a Selective Service cantonment, and as he was an engineer by profession they put him in charge of a gang to build rifle ranges.  He had lived on velvet, but when I asked him how he liked army life he said “Fine.”  He said there were a lot of mighty rough fellows, but that they were dandy when you got to know them.  I get the same thing all through.  If I wanted to pick out a name for our drafted boys, I’d call them “The Men Behind the Grins.”  This same young engineer, when he had completed the  rifle ranges, was put to work on an embankment around the General’s Headquarters, and his gang was cut down to three men.  As nearly as I can remember, one was a customs coatmaker, one a pants presser, and one a buttonhole maker.  To take a buttonhole maker and turn him overnight into a soldier (and an engineer with a pick and shovel, at that) and have anything left but a sad, expiring moan, is great stuff.  When the mould is wiped off us we are as soft as a chilled-steel bayonet.  I would hate to be a German and have about a thousand of those buttonhole makers come over the top at me with bayonets fixed.


Wet Eyes Scarce


          One day I saw a few hundred drafted men leaving a railroad station in a large city for the trip to camp.  The wet eyes were not among the boys who were going.  There were not many wet eyes anywhere; the boys were shouting and chaffing each other.  The only really worried looking person was a negro who was carrying a banner on a pole – “We are the ­­­___th  District Boys – We are going to bite the Kaiser,” or something like that.  He was worried because he could not find the contingent to which the banner belonged.  He wandered around the station and he was really distressed.  He finally sat down on a bench.  Probably someone had given him fifty cents for carrying the banner and he was not earning it.  Or perhaps he had not been paid the fifty cents and was afraid he never would get it.  At any rate, he was the saddest person in the station.  A negro who feels in his bones he is losing fifty cents can look/mighty sad.


          There was one other person there who would have seemed sad if he had not seemed such an admirable example of complete sorrow.  He was an Italian, the father, no doubt, of a drafted boy, and he was weeping with all his face, both hands and one foot.  I never saw any one weep so thoroughly and wholeheartedly.  He wept so completely, and put his soul and body so entirely into the job, that there was nothing sad about it.  Poor Old duffer!  I suppose he may have come to America so that his baby boy might avoid Italian military service and now the military had that very boy.  But the boy- I saw him – was not downhearted.  “Aw, cheese!  It cheerfully, and patted his dad on the back, and the next moment he was yelling across the station:  “Hey, Tony! Did you get that Kiss?  Probably Tony had bragged about a farewell kiss he was going to get.  I hope he got it.  He looked so cheerful I am sure he did get it, two of them, maybe.


          Well, there were glum follow, too, I suppose, I haven’t thought I have never seen – fellows who went to camp and cantonment with long, miserably – drawn faces.  There were bound to be some of them, but the great thing is that their glumness was not contagious and smiles and rough cheerfulness were.


          We are sending abroad, and will continue to send, men with a grin.  The army of the United States, at home and abroad, is an army of good sports, taking things as they find them and making a joke of the annoyances.  You can beat the glum man, and you can beat the sour-faced quitter, but you can’t beat the man-with-a-grin.  You can’t beat us; our motto is “GRIN AND WIN”!








Tear Gas and Machine Gun Fire

Also Contribuate Warlike Touch


          Society Note:  Miss Britannia has been a Camp Upton visitor recently, giving an exhibition of some of the lastest dance steps from the west young lady was given the keys to the camp.  If she hadn’t been given them she could easily have broken her way into local society.  She has a way of breaking things up.


          Yes, the reigning sensation of the week past was the presence here of the British tank Britannia, brought from Hero Land, New York.  Upton was the first of the camps to be visited, and entertained royally the big battle leviathan.  Practically every man in the post saw her in action, hopping over trenches, crushing trees and munching guns.


          Real gas was also encountered for the first time during the sensational night now over, Lieut. H.G. Snyder introducing some of the 308th’s men to the delights of tear gas.  Other forms will be used in actual gas experiences soon.


          First rifle practice on the 100-yard range and machine gun target practice were other developments during the week of drilling which terminated with the Christmas holidays.  The 154th Infantry Brigade’s trenches witnessed the first use of the rapid-firers, and officers and non-coms of the 304th Machine Gun Battalion limbered up with the Colt variety, directed by Major F.D. Griffith.





        One of the boys of the 9th Company complained that the chow in the mess of the 9th was not as good as he had had over at one of the other companies.


          “When did you eat in one of the other companies?”asked Lieut. Palmer.


          “On Thanksgiving Day, I had my dinner over at the 12th.” Was the reply.



          One of the latest Hebrew recruits is reported having said:  “Fried bacon fro breakfast, pork and beans for dinner, cold boiled ham for supper!  I never eat so much bread in all my life, Abey!”


          Boxing is going strong.  The battalion tournaments pulled off  in the barracks were productive of some good bouts.  Lieut. Davies of the 2nd Battalion has a fast bunch, and Lieut. Gleason of the 5th Battalion has discovered a champion in Young Dundee.  At the inter battalion bouts held in the 19th Street “hut.” Joe Honan, the fighting waiter, representing the 3d Battalion, was the sensation of the evening. He has a reputation of “Knocking ‘em all cold,” and Lieut. Naylor says he will back him against anything at his weight in the camp.



Capt. Higgins, 11th Company, told his men that those who could get full equipment could go home on passes.  None of the boys had their hat cords, but they immediately made a rush to purchase some.  The whistle was blowing for retreat formation as they trooped back, arrayed in service regulation blue of the doughboys.  There were ambulance cords of the service.  In fact all the cords and one youth strode along proudly under the full gold cord of a General.



          Capt. Hoyer of the 1st Company believes in recreation and entertainment for his men.  The latest company asked is a new billiard table which Capt. Hoyer has presented to his company.


           Trouble with the pedal extremities is not always confined to long marches.  Some of the men at Camp Upton have had trouble with their feet, and they have not marched any further than the Bevo counter at the commissary.  Private Jack O’Brien of the 8th Company has been waiting two weeks for a pair of shoes to fit him, and when at last they procured a pair of kicks, size 10 ½, for him, he complained that they were such a close fit that he couldn’t wear any socks between the shoes and the feet.


           The 14th Company claims to have the original spadefoot artist in the person of one of its members.  When this soldier asked why he was not being sent to Georgia with the rest of the gang, Top Cutter Red Smith informed him that he was being retained at Yaphank to form “the nucleus for a flatfooted brigade to be sent out ahead of the storming parties to tread down the barbed wire entanglements.”



For Concert Wednesday Night


          Ninety members of the New York Philharmonic Society will come to Camp Upton Wednesday for a concert in the Y.M.C.A. Auditorium at 7:30 P.M., the appearance of the world-famed musicians offering to men here one of the rare treats of the season.


          This is the second concert of Christmas week given by the Philharmonic outside of the regular schedule, the Halifax sufferers benefiting by one held in Carnegie Hall Sunday.


          Following is the programme for Upton, Jose F. Stransky, conductor:  The Star Spangled Banner; Symphoney No. 5 in E minor, Op. 95, “The New World” (Dvorak); “The Swan of Tuonelas,” (Sibelius); Scherzo, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, “ (Duckas); Nocturne for Violoncello and Harp, Leo Schulz, violincello and Alfred Kastner, harp (Chopin); “American Fantasy” (Herbert).






          One date in the calendar ahead is the important object of Buffalo hopes these days.  It is New Year’s Eve.  On that day Col. Moss’s colored boys of the 367th Infantry will own New York, or at least a very considerable section of that adjacent island.  On the eve of the New Year regimental swagger sticks, brushed leggings and smart uniforms will cut figures at the 71st Regiment Armory.  It is to be a regimental ball, and practically the entire command of nearly 2,000 men will be given permission to attend the ball, and Capt. Bull, regimental Adjutant, has consented to lead the grand march.





          The boys of the fourth platoon lst Co., Provisional Recruit Battalion, are a peppy bunch.  Last Saturday half of the platoon went on pass to New York, the others determined to have a good time so, headed by Private Harry Sitomer, they decided on a big Blow-Out.  Accompanied by Sergt. Grant and Private Sitani and Mess Sergt. Cooper he went over to Acker Merral and just about bought the place out.  About forty men came in for the feed.  Lt. Kramer dropped in to tell them that they need not turn in till 11 o’clock and could sleep till 6:45AM the next morning.  Sad news, Lieutenant!




        The men of Company 1, 307th Infantry, are very happy.  Private M. O. Felder of this outfit, formerly with the Fox Film Corp., has purchased a moving picture machine for the company and it is now being installed.  Under the able direction of Capt. Harrigan the men are assured of many happy times.  Dark and stormy nights will be made cheerful and full of merriment.  Arrangements have been made to show the most modern and up-to-date photo plays twice weekly.  The first picture secured by Private Felder will be a William Fox super-de-lux production entitled “The Spy” featuring Dustin Farnum.




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