For a few minutes let us turn our thoughts to other things. Wherever the army is found, whether on this side or on the other, the Y.M.C.A. huts are in evidence. The work of this organization is absolutely interdenominational and its hospitality is extended to Protestant, Catholic, Jew, or any other sect. In most of the camps there are eight or nine of these huts beside the central office and auditorium. One of their temporary buildings is shown here. Most of the cantonments are now provided with wooden buildings of a more permanent character and painted green, which makes them a veritable oasis in the desert of unpainted barracks. They are equipped with various attractions and conveniences which make them a home in which the soldiers can come and write letters, play the piano, or listen to a victrola, or chat with their comrades. It is the most powerful gloom — and homesick - eradicator in camp and fortunate is the man who early learns to frequent its rooms. Lectures, entertainments, musicales, and other gatherings are provided and the moral welfare of the men is given special attention. The sign of the Triangle means development of body, mind, and spirit, and is the symbol of hospitality to all.
All quiet along the Potomac tonight, Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, Or the light of the watch-fire, are gleaming, A tremulous sigh of the gentle night-wind Through the forest leaves softly is creeping; While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes, Keep guard, for the army is sleeping.
Thus far we have been paying most of our attention to the infantry. We now turn to another branch of the army — the cavalry. On the Western Front the cavalry had little use at first but during the latter part of the war they had more. It is quite imperative to develop this, the most picturesque and inspiring branch of the service.
The gas attacks, first used by the Germans with serious effect, have now largely lost their terrors for all our soldiers are supplied with gas masks and taught to adjust them quickly, an operation which can be accomplished in about six seconds in case of necessity. The first stage in the training with these masks is the practice in putting them on and replacing them in the case so that they will be immediately available the next time they are needed. Later, as in this view, a fas cloud is released, into which the men go with their masks adjusted. An offensive or nauseating, but not dangerous gas, is used in the first experiments. As the soldiers’ skills increase they make excursions into regions filled with dangerous gases, possibly a gas house, or a deep trench filled with deadly fumes in which he can be observed from above.
As few can go to the cantonments to see this transformation, the soldiers sometimes are taken to the neighboring cities as a living object lesson. Such parades most effectively instruct us, the plain, ordinary citizens, as to the effect of military training. Whatever the weather an appreciative audience gathers, and unconsciously absorbs the true meaning of the freedom of a democracy as distinguished from the tyranny of anarchy. It is an example of voluntary submission to discipline for the general good of all.
Now and then some soldier will wait outside to say goodbye to his little boy and say it with a smile. If there is any patriotic duty which should be impressed more than any other on the mothers, sisters, wives, sweethearts, and some of the fathers too, of our soldiers, it is to smile when you say au revere, goodbye for the present. No matter how you feel inside, smile. It takes real courage but that smile will do more than a ton of bombs to win the war.
"We're coming Father Abraham three hundred thousand strong." This youthful warrior in his "hickory" shirt was a member of the Fourth Michigan and was with the Army of the Potomac from Bull Run to Appomattox.
Our airplane school scattered in different parts of the country are among our most active training centers. This view on the field of the aviation school at Mineola, N.Y. indicates the activities at these camps. This new phase of army training has assumed the greatest importance. Probably more depends on aviation than any other single element in modern warfare. Not only are the aviators the eyes of the army and navy, but they are a powerful and effective fighting force with their machine guns and bombs. With a sudden sally they can swoop down on a relief column back of the enemy’s lines and decimate its ranks cutting off the reinforcements intended for the hard pressed front. They can blow up ammunition depots, supply stations, and even munition works far behind the opposing lines. Curiously enough, on the sea they are the worst enemy of the submarine whose presence far beneath the surface of the water they can detect like a fish hawk and drop their depth bombs without danger to themselves. Air supremacy will greatly hasten our complete victory over the diabolical forces confronting us, so we must speed the construction of machines and the training of men for this work.
In visiting a cantonment you do not get an idea of the number of men in training unless you are there during a review. Then the magnitude of the camp is realized as you see wave after wave almost as far as you can see, marching forward like an irresistible force. More impressive, however, than their number is the physical transformation which the men, both individually and as a body have undergone during their few months of intensive training. The motley crowd has become a unified army of efficient soldiers.
This view of Andersonville Prison taken from the northeast angle of the stockade in the summer of 1864, gives some idea of its crowding and discomfort. So accustomed to all this had the prisoners become, in the filth and squalor and misery engendered by congestion, which finally left but thirty-five square feet of room (a space seven feet by five) to every man, that even the dead line itself is used as a support for some of the prisoners tents. Inside the line are huts of every description. Some few are built of boughs and trees, but for the most part they are strips of cloth or canvas, old blankets, even a ragged coat to keep off the fierce rays of the ruthless sun. The shelters in front are partly underground, since the blanket was not large enough to cover the greater space. Some in the middle are simply strips of cloth.