The High Point Scout
VOL. 1
HIGH POINT, NORTH CAROLINA, DECEMBER, 1919
NO. 9
“I can’t git ’em up, I can’t git ’em
up,
1 can’t git ’em up this morning,
etc.”
Thus, did the bugler speak to each
of us on Christmas morning, one year
ago. I could continue the words of
this memorable ditty, but “memories
that bless and burn,” principally
burn, force me to refrain. Most of
us who passed through the torments
of bugler calls accompanied by the
commands of the blessed Top Ser
geant have long since had a mutu
al understanding that we would
some sweet day “murder the bugler
and spend the rest of our lives in
bed.” However, after we have shuf
fled off the O. D.’s and tucked the
khaki away for future reference In
some secluded spot where not even
the moths can break through and
steal, we have grown passive .and
now look back upon the lazy bugler
as, perhaps, a necessary evil.
Notwithstanding the fact that it
was a precious holiday we turned
over in our bunks, no doubt, and
sought to snatch one more snooze
from Mr, Napper. As well as I re
member I think I was guilty of that
unmilitary indiscretion. It couldn’t
last long for my fellow bunkies
would not tolerate such a thing on
the part of one for whom they wish
ed a clear record. In a twinkling I
was out and at attention in front of
my section ready to call the roll. In
another moment the report was giv
en and the battery dismissed.
Did you ever hear a military com
pany call the roll? To describe it
adequately would require the assist
ance of at least seventeen men. Such
a number might possibly make suf
ficient noise to confuse you. In n
battery or company more than 200
men answer to their names in al
most less time than it takes to tell
the Incident. As fast as twelve ser
geants can salute the Top and ray
"section so-and-so present or ac
counted lor,” the work is over and
the men are ready to c6me to “in
spection arms” and “fall out.” This
Merry Christmas
And a
Happy New Year
is kno'wn as snappy work. It is ac
cording to the rule of the army game.
If a man fails to show the proper
amount of “pep”, he is everlastingly
bawled out by some one from above,
and immediately, perhaps, branded
as a “frog” or a “cranny guy”. These
are epithets we could not indorse
with good grace. So. it behooved us
to stay on the lob and jump into
the work.
After reveille, for that is what
the first daily formation is called,
we split the- mud wide open getting
back to our bunks to make ready for
mess. In case we had a little water
in the canteens we “washed” our
heads and faces perhaps, it
would be more truthful to say, we
dampened our heads and, maybe,
our faces, and then dried them on
the community towel. Sure, we were
then ready to eat. . Our bodily
condition was in keeping with mess
served us at the mess time. On this
particular morning we cared very
little about the first meal which was
to be served. However to save criti
cism and avoid rumors about sick
ness I grabbed my kit and cup and
m„de tor the mess sack. ' As was
their custom the K. P.’s served me
coffee, breakfast st ips, molosses,
and bakers’ bread. That was con
sidered a remarkably good breakfast,
yet, somehow or other, I couldn’t
he!p but let my mind go shifting
b-ck one year to the time when I
had the privilege of eating a good
warm breakfast cooked by my moth
er, Such a change in such a short
time over such a long distance made
this. Khaki clad Tar Heel sit on his
bunk end, while he ate, think of the
good things friends were having on
the other side of the planet. These
foolish mental rumblings were fre
quently engaged in by all of us, es
pecially on occasions like Thanksgiv
ing, Christmas, etc. There are oc
casions when we all like to be with
those we love and cherish.
I am sure Christmas 1918 with
me was for from being observed .as
you observed it. I have no reason
to feel proud over what we did, in
part, yet, it was, at the time, about
the only good thing one could do.
You must remember that at that
time nearly all the boys in Prance
were extremely homesick. Should I
be ashamed to say homesick? Not
in the least. To us the U. S. A.
was the sweetest spot on earth. A
foreign soil gave nothing that could
fill up the void caused by separation
from all that is dear to life.
Since these things are so it was
encumbent on the men in charge
to bring about some sort of a change
which would breed a more whole
some morale. For weeks since the
armistice boys had been spending
their idle moments around the stoves
of the huts and billets talking about
going home rumors, and this, that
and the other over on the home
shore. Every now and then they
would all join in on the refrain, “I
want to go home.” This practice of
fanning the flame of homesickness
was getting so far along that the
general morale was at a very low ebb.
For it to have continued would have
meant the utter destruction of bat-