Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 281, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 December 1918 — YANKEES QUAIL AT PINK DECORATIONS [ARTICLE]

YANKEES QUAIL AT PINK DECORATIONS

Women Hero Worshipers “Plumb Flabbergast" Our Doughboys in Paris.

MIGHTY POOR MATINEE IDOLS But Can They Fight? Oh, Boy, You Can't . Stop Them—Ask the j Major, He Knows—Also About the Marines. By RICHARD HENRY LITTLE, (Chicago Newspaper Man, Now In Y. M. C. A.'. Service on Atlantic.) New York.—American soldiers are grand fighters but very poor matinee; Idols. When women spring from their seats in the sidewalk cases in Paris and thrust flowers in their hands, they Iqpk as ashamed as a dog caught stealing eggs. The most awful suffering I saw in Paris W.ris the case of a big husky from an infantry outfit. A lady of great distinction had stopped her machine In the middle of the street while the soldier „ was crossing, and, leaning out, had enthusiastically tied a bright pink ribbon around his neck. Amidst much rejoicing from the assembled French spectators the lady went her way and the big soldier looked as if he was just about to choke to death, although it was a very thin ribbon and loosely tied. I saw him an hour later and he still wore the ribbon and had turned deathly pale and ■was evidently in terrible pain. ‘ The'Captain’s Orders. “Listen," said the infantry husky in d hoarse whisper, “the captain said we was to receive any compliments given us by the French with a smile and show ’em we appreciated it and not hurt their feelings by ditching it, but if I have to wear this pink ribbon around me neck for another hour I’ll go nuts and bite myself in the leg. For the love o’’’ Mike do something.” I removed the ribbon from the suffering soldier’s neck and after a while he grew calm and quite rational and he told me some stories of the front regarding the first assault of the Americans against Chateau Thierry. “They can’t hold us guys,” he said, "when we git started we jest keep goin’. All anybody says is jest kill ’em, kill ’em, arid O boy, you ought to see Our lads go to it! “There at Chatty Teery the officers were making an awful holler about the boys running too fast and ducking right through the barrage '♦ and not paying attention to nothing except spearin’ Bodies. Our colonel came over before we started and he was much particular-like in pointing out a bunch of rocks where he wanted our battalion to halt. “The major said all right, that he would stop his four companies right on the .line of them rocks, and then we started. We got it right in the

nose, from every Dutch gun in front of us, but the boys jest yelled and laughed and away they went Say, they didn’t pay no more attention to the major when we came to them rocks than if he hadn’t been there at all. , “I went back to give him a message from my captain and he was standing by the rocks and up came the colonel arid the colonel gave the major blinking hell for not stopping the battalion where he said, and -the major was madder ’n a hornet, and he double damned the colonel right back again and he said: ‘How the crucified damnation could I stop them crazy, wild-eyed sons of perdition? If that hog-faced crown prince and his whole damnety damn Dutch army couldn’t stop ’em, what the h could I do?* , And Those Marines. I asked him if the marines were good fighters “Good fighters?” the soldier said; “say, every time I see a marlrie I want to go up and give him a- kiss. “If they ever get started again they will never stop till they get to Berlin. Now, you listen to me, I know. Say, do you know what I saw them marines do ? “They had taken three trenches and was stopping in-the third to fill their pockets with grenades and bombs before tackling the next trench that was chuck-full of Boches. The Dutch was using mustard gas and we was all wearing our masks. The grenades wuz passed around. “The marines filled their pockets and hung ’em on their belts and then they seemed to decide that they needed more for the job than what they had, so what did those crazy nuts do

but whip off their gas mrtsks and fill ’em up with grenades and then, carrying their masks like they was market baskets, up they jumped and down they comes on the Dutch in the. next trench all spraddled out, and they bombed ’em till there wasn’t nothing but jest grease spots left. “Oh, you marines, boy*, my hat is certainly off to you.” And likewise you infantry and you artillery.