Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 192, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 August 1916 — Page 3

Auto Trucks and Motorcycles

Mexican campaign shows their usefulness over army mule and cavalry horse Flesh and blood can’t compete with steel and gasoline down on the desert and mountain trails

* SORROWFUL and prophetic army mule stood beside a Soto cactus near the American end of the long, dusty road from Columbus, New Mexico, to Nainiquipa, Old Mexico, so writes W. O. McGeehan in the New York Tri"l**** w | bune. Down the trail from the base of the ■ punitive expedition swept a train of 30 auto trucks. They were heavily laden with the variety of cargoes that are required for an army in the field.

Each truck carried four or five troopers in olive drab squatted insecurely on top of the load. The road was uneven, it was full of ruts, but the autq truck train glided along at the rate of from eight to ten miles an hour. The vehicles kept a perfect alignment The troopers swore softly but earnestly' as the trucks Jblted. Even as the army mule watched, the sweating, swearing truck train disappeared into a cloud of dust beyond the border line. Then the mule tilted back his dejected head and gave vent to a secret sorrow in one far-reaching vocal effort. As though mocking his (grief, the horns of the auto trucks tooted back derisively in the distance. The grief of that army mule was the grief of Othello with his occupation gone. He sunk behind the Soto cactus and subsided into painful meditation. He had just Seen his finish. He realized at that moment that the army mule would never again hold a high place among the factors which win battles. He realized that practical poets would no longer sing of the virtues which the army mule could display upon great emergencles._He was already obsolete, down and out. Even the "mule skinner,” with the picturesque vocabulary and the hard words, had abandoned him.

The mule skinner was now driving one of those auto trucks, and was addressing It with strained politeness when he spoke to it at all. It was all wrong. By the martyred mule of Matanzas, of which the army bards sang during the Spanish-American war days, it was all wrong 1 There was no use to pull against the auto truck. ,We had tried It when they hitched him to the rear of one. He decided to drag the thing back over the desert. But, instead, he was relentlessly dragged on his haunches for a mile, and he gave it up. The Columbus expedition has demonstrated that in the matter of army transportation “the mule is dead, long live the auto truck!” It had already been demonstrated at the battle of the Marne, when motor vehicles checked the German advance and saved France. But our war department moves with excessive deliberation. It clung tenaciously to its faith In the mule until the first auto truck train went galumphing into Mexico, making three times the distance that a mule could make over roads which no motor-driven vehicle could be expected to itravel. The consequence was a rush order for auto trucks and drivers. The auto trucks are standing up wonderfully well. They plow through the alkali dust up to the hubs, they jolt over the rocky places, they flounder through the sandy wastes that grind the bearings, and they puff through the mountain passes. They go anywhere the mule will go, and they get there in better time. While the long trail from Columbus to NamlSulpa is lined with the carcasses of mules and orses, the auto trucks go rumbling on in their work of keeping the field army supplied with food and ammunition. They perform new miracles upon every new emergency. There are several hundred auto trucks at the army base at Columbus. On a pinch those trucks could move an entire brigade In one day twice as far as all the horses and mules In the world could move It. This is true, despite the fact that many of the trucks are badly racked because of bad driving. Not only does the successful test of the auto truck spell the passing of the mule train. It also means the passing of cavalry, the most picturesque branch of the service. Even cavalry officers In the punitive expedition will admit that three or four auto trucks will get a company of infantry twice as far on a forced march as the bestmounted troop of cavalry could travel. Cavalry charges are rare In these days of rapidfire rifles and machine guns. The horses are used only to get the men to the front, where they operate as infantry. When the gasoline-fed mounts can get them there so much faster than the horses. It begins to look bad for the cavalry horse. The United States army of the near future will travel extensively on gasoline. There will be few more heart-breaking Infantry hikes, and there will be few more wild cavalry rides, leaving in their wake dead and dying horses. Even field artillery can be carried by the auto trucks. All of this should have been realised before. One of the lasting benefits of the punitive expedition will be the modernizing of the military transportation branch. The auto truck has passed the ■tern test For the present the auto truck trains with the army In Mexico are not working under any definite system. The organization of the truck train of the United States army has not been decided upon. Neither has the typo of truck to be used In the organization been decided upon. Captains and lieutenants are busy taking notes as to net mileage and gasoline requirements; also, as to stability Ind reliability of the different makes of trucks in the service. The drivers are a mixed Some are regular

army enlisted men, detailed to drive the type of truck tentatively adopted. The others are chauffeurs of all sorts, adventurers ’from all over the country, college men in search of experience, and even ex-taxicab drivers from New York city. With some of the trucks under probation are men from the factories. It is a more picturesque body than any assemblage of mule skinners. The types are more varied and the views upon things in general are more interesting. Moreover, the army chauffeur in the aggregate is naturally more intelligent than the mule skinner, w’hose close association with the mule has given him some of the traits of that noble animal. To the average army chauffeur the stolid-looking, lumbering auto truck is a beautiful and a living thing. On the road to Namiqulpa I listened to a colored sergeant of the Ninth cavalry who had been detalled to drive a five-ton truck. He was addressing his vehicle. “Yes, Betsy, old girl,” he was saying, “Ah knows that this here cheap government gasoline ain’t the proper nourishment for a high-toned lady truck like you. But when we gets to Coyallitas Ah’m going to put some of that nice cool spring water in your radiator. That’ll freshen you up a whole lot, Betsy. “Does you-all want a little more oil in your bearings, Betsy? If you does, jes’ say so. ’Taln’t no trouble at all for me. Ah jes’ thought you might, because your pretty engine was breathing a lltpe hard on that last hill. Ah don’t want any of them fresh New York chauffeurs to think you was complaining, Betsy, because me and you knows that you don’t complain.” The colored trooper adjusted some pink and green ribbon which was tied to the truck radiator. The whistle of the truck master blew. The sergeant whirled the crank, listened solicitously for an instant to his motor, and swung Betsy into line with her mates. One of the difficulties which the captain of an auto truck encounters is in maintaining discipline with a mixed company of civilians and soldiers. Civilian drivers have their own notions as to how auto trucks should be driven. It is the theory of the captain that the auto train should have a perfect alignment, with the trucks a hundred yards apart. The civilian drivers cannot see the necessity for this. Some of them want to show that their trucks can travel the fastest. Others insist that their trucks be carefully handled. The result is that the captain, fuming Inwardly, has to be a diplomat when he is In command of a mixed train of trucks. One of these trains started out at the rate of 12 miles an hour. A short distance out of Columbus it encountered bad roads. A new truck slowed down and began to pick the going. The captain shot ’cross-country from the rear in his standard runabout to see what was cutting his train in two. “What’s the trouble?” he demanded of the civilian driver. “No trouble at all,” replied the driver. “But eight miles is all that I am going to do with this load and over this sort of road. You can go ahead with those Barney Oldfields if you want to. I’ll catch up with you after half of those trains are wrecked.” The captain was a trifle angry. He reminded the driver that all trains were ordered kept Intact. It was no ’cross-country race. It was a military truck train. The driver was obdurate, and the train had to slow down to a reasonable pace. The driver was right, though very unmilltary. The loads which the trucks were carrying were 'not needed in a hurry. But if he had happened to be -

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

sort happened to a bunch of New York taxicab drivers who were shipped out to handle a train made up of a certain uniform make of trucks. They got 50 miles into Mexico, and then decided that they did not like the country at all. They agreed that the United States government was foolish to go in at all. Their spokesman went to the captain and informed him that they had decided to go back. They did not like the food, the water was not iced, and there was no beer in the godforsaken place. Whereupon the captain gave orders to the sergeant of his guard. 'The noncommissioned officer Informed the drivers that the first of them who turned back to Columbus would be systematically shot up. The drivers protested that they were American citizens and wanted their rights. The sergeant listened unmoved as he drew up his squad into a convenient place for the shooting. The drivers finally concluded that they-were too far away to consult their attorneys, and the train proceeded to Namiqulpa. Camping out away from a garrisoned town, ths truck trains take the same formation that was used by the emigrant trains when they were forced to guard against Indian attacks at night. The trucks are distributed in a circle, with the captain’s runabout, the cook truck and the ammunition truck in the center. Placed In this formation, the truck train is in a difficult position for a bandit band W rush. _ “T No doubt, many a band has been watching those valuable trains of food and ammunition, longing to pounce upon them, but they refrained. A wellordered truck train could get-into battle formation in a few minutes, and the Springfield rifles would be covering every point of attack very effectively. , A quarter of a million dollars In gold was shipped In with one train, guarded by 50 picked marksmen. Bandit bands, knowing of this, probably longed to rush it, but they did not make the attempt. At night, in its proper formation, with its outposts alert, the well-conducted train should be Impossible to surprise. But civilian drivers are hard to convince of the necessity for remaining alert They will lock their ammunition In the tool boxes; and, while they are painfully solicitous of the mechanism of their trucks, they have no regard for the mechanism of the Springfield rifles which are issued to them.

They have no respect for shoulder straps. A typical incident was one near Espia. The truck train drew into the place hot and dusty. The news was spread that there was a real swimming hole 20 feet deep In the place. Soldier guards and civilian drivers made a dash for it. As they neared it they heard a delicious splashing, but a sentry halted them. “Sorry, boys,” he said, “but there’s an officer bathing there now, and the orders are that nobody is allowed in till he gets through.” A big ex-taxicab driver from New York proceeded to peel off his army uniform. In another minute he dived into the pool with a mighty splash. He came to the surface and grinned cheerfully at the Indignant expression of the second lieutenant, outraged at the fact that his privacy had been disturbed, apparently by the enlisted man. “Oh, that’s all right!” shouted the auto driver. “I don’t mind if yo*u are • little bit dirty. Come on in. The water is fine.” But one of these days the truck train will be systematized. The drivers will all be enlisted men. There will be a fixed rate of speed, and the truck* will all be up to determined specifications. When the truck train is perfected, the mule train will go. Also, the pride of the cavalry will be trailed In the gasoline-scented dust of the autotruck train.

fan army driver he would be in the guardhouse for a considerable period for insubordination. More than once the army | in Mexico has been forced illegally but practically to discipline some of the civilian drivers. The most startling incident of this

THAINING TODAY’S BOYS AND GIRLS

Secret Ambitions of Parents for Their Children. HOPE AIDS IN DEVELOPMENT It Is Well to Realize That Backwardness or Precocity Does Not Determine a Child’s Possibilities. %y SIDONIE M. GRUENBERG. ALICE, almost three years old, was very busy scribbling forest and cloud effects on the back of a circular letter; and she was quite oblivious to the presence and conversation of her mother and a visitor. “Can she write yet?” asked the visitor. “Oh, no,” beamed the mother, “we do not wish to hurry her. But she does love to play with pencils and paper, and I think she is going to be an author.” The visitor smiled indulgently. But this is what she thought: “She is just as likely to become a cheap clerk or a fourth-rate stenographer.” Which is quite true; only there is no use discouraging parents too early in the game. Parents naturally harbor secret ambitions as to the future of the children; we know that, because they sometimes let the secret out. And it is quite natural that they should, because they transfer to their children the hopes of their own childhood, the hopes that never cystallized into reality. We can therefore understand why the scribblings of Alice should suggest fine writing to the mother, or why Tommy’s tinkering with the decrepit alarm clock should remind the father of that other Thomas, the great inventor. Not only is it easy to understand why parents do such things—which must appear rather stupid or conceited to the parents of other children — but it is very desirable that they should continue to do more and more of the same. For entertaining hopes about children is about the surest way of guiding our plans and bringing unity into our treatment of the developing personality. The hopes can certainly do no harm —unless they blind us. But there is the real danger. For if we have nothing to go by except our hopes, we are just as likely tosbe moved or paralyzed by our fears. It is natural for parents to translate the random activities of their children

Patrick Henry Alternated Hunting With Extreme Laziness.

into possibilities for achievement But it is just as natural to translate the annoying or unconventional activities into gnawing fear. Charles Darwin tells us in his autobiography of being rebuked by the schoolmaster for wasting his time on such subjects as chemistry. We should explain this by saying that the schoolmaster had no appreciation of a subject of which he was totally ignorant But he tells us further that he was greatly mortified when his father once said to him: “You care for nothing but shooting dogs and rat catching, and you will be a disgrace to yourself and all your family.” Now Darwin’s father was not an Ignorant man, and he was not unsympathetic; but his imagination was not equal to interpreting the child’s interests and activities in terms other than those of loafing, shooting and rat catching. But if the experience of Darwin should lead anyone to predict a great scientific career for the son of similar proclivities, he must be warned. The youth of Patrick Henry was characterized by alternating spasms of running wild and hunting in the woods and spells of extreme laziness. “No persuasion could bring him either to read or to work,” his biographer writes, "and every omen foretold a life at best of mediocrity, if not of insignificance.” Which only supports the old suspicion that you must not put too much trust ip omens. Again and again we find cases of children who filled their parents with despair and thel, teachers with disgust, only to emerge later into men .and women of distinction and high social value. The timid youth, backward in school and slow to give any sign of internal fires, develops into a leader in thought or in action. This should not make us translate timidity and backwardness Into signs of leadership. Henry Ward Beecher was so bashful and reticent as a boy that he gave the impression, according to his sister, of "stolid stupidity.” In addition to this he was a poor writer and speller, and had a “thick utterance.” No one would have guessed that this ten-year-old boy was to become a brilliant orator, ee-

pecfaßy since the other children of th» family memorized their lessons readily and recited them with grace and elegance, in marked contrast to the confused and stammering fienry. John Adams gave no sign of abilities beyond the ordinary until well; along in years, and but for the circumstances of the Civil War Ulysses 8. Grant would have remained an obscure, uninteresting and “unsuccessful” drifter. On the other hand, many a precocious child seems to stop short in its development long before there is the maturity or the opportunity to begin to accomplish things of importance. We are not to suppose that every brilliant child will necessarily become a mediocre adult, nor that every backward child is to develop into a genius. The fact is that the "abilities” of a child are in a state of constant change. At no time may we say of the child that it has exhibited a final manifestation of its possibilities or of its limi-

Henry Ward Beecher Was Bashful and Reticent.

tations. The “inattentive” Isaac Newton, the "dullard” Robert Fulton, the “Indolent” James Russell Lowell, the “weakminded” David Hume and hundreds of others make us challenge our methods of estimating the powers and characters of children. These, more than the disappointments we feel in the failure of children to develop into a realization of our great expectations, make us question our standards and systems and signs. In view Of the common failure to anticipate the ultimate achievements of children, it would seem much wiser to draw all the possible encouragement and stimulus from the positive manifestations, to watch constantly for the best, than to fear and despair for the weaknesses.

India’s Jewels.

Though India exports 55,500,000 worth of jewels annually, she is still supreme in the world as- the jewel storehouse for all nations. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, tourmaline, garnet and many kinds of rare chalcedony are mined throughout her many provinces. Rubles are principally mined in Upper Burma. One ruby of 75 carats, taken out a few years ago, was valued at SIOO,OOO, sapphires are mined in Kashmir, but the mines, after having been worked for over 900 years, are now said to be giving out, though the yellow, white, blue, and green varieties are extensively found in the ruby-bearing gravels in Burma. Garnets form a valuable trade in Krishnagar, while large quantities of turquoise come from Sikkim and Tibet, those from the latter country being harder and of darker and more liquid luster, and having greater value.

Women Can't Take a Joke.

Tommy was listening to his “highbrow” sister discourse on the political Issues of the day to callers at their home, and, as was his wont, attentively awaited an opportunity to twit bar as a matter of pure mischief. “Though I am in sympathy with the feminist movement,” his sister was telling the “yet, like father, at heart I am a Democrat and” — “Oh-h-h, sis,” Tommy interrupted, “how changeable you are. You told us yesterday that you are an aristocrat. How fickle!” What could the poor girl do? Nothing more than pull Tommy’s ears when the callers had gone, which elicited the remonstrance: "Women what can’t take a joke ain’t got no business in politics.”

Unintentional Palindrome.

The “New Palindrome” in the issue of May 4, writes a subscriber, reminds me of a quite unpremeditated one that I once saw. I was waiting in a buggy in front ot a bakery in Yreka, Cal., and my attention was attracted to the odd fact that, with the exception of one letter—B — the glass of the two doors bore the same inscription. That stray letter puzzled me. “Yreka” with a Anal “B” was quite inexplicable. In the same white letters on the windows appeared “Yreka Bakery.” As I looked from one group to another it suddenly dawned upon me that the extra letter was on the open door. I was reading that one backward I—Youth’s Companion.

Sure Scheme.

Young Wise —I am determined learn at what hour my husband comes home at night Yet do what I will, I cannot keep awake, and he is always careful not to make a particle of noise. Is there any drug which produce* wakefulness? Old Wife—No need to buy drugs. Sprinkle the floor with tack*— Sentinel,