Salt Lake Tribune | 1918-11-24 | Page 42 | Corporal Curls Bayoneter-They Thought Him " too Gentle to Fight," but He Knew How to "Carry on"

Corporal Curls, BayoneterThey Thought Him "Too Gentle to Fight' But He Knew How to "Carry On" By Bruce Crawford CURLS enlisted in the army at a ' time when the Germans were stlU on the offensive. So it was clear to all that he joined expecting to fight. By so doing lie amazed t,he town, for no ono had ever suspected that this gentle youth, who still clung to the girlish curls of his childhood, would take part in even a cock light, much less a gory death grapple of millidns. Curls! The name his parents gave him was a misnomer, proved such in tho fact that since his childhood this familiar nickname had ever been on tho tli oi everybody's tongue. Because Be-cause his friends and acquaintances preferred to call him by that fond sobriquet so-briquet he never objected, but allowed It to go with the curls he grew. And did not the military Napoleon declare. 'Nicknames should never be despised; de-spised; it is by such means mankind Is governed"? In the army a Hoboken man called him Curls. Every rookie laughed. Curls smiled at the coincidence. The name knew its place and stayed stuck. Curls began to take discipline. His awkward movements in drilling were more noticeable to the hard-boiled instructor in-structor than were those of the others.' because Curls was so pathetically conspicuous. con-spicuous. And when ho was "bawled out" In army regulation lingo the tanks tittered and. after the command "rest," laughed aioud. though good-naturedly. good-naturedly. A lovable lad out oi luck In an army of rough-and-readys. "Worse still, whenever an extra "k. p." was needed in the kitchen Curls was first to arrest the mess sergeant's eve. Same when a man was needed on any ether work detail. But he al- v -A '$ p3 ;CrT" hhK:; ways smiled serenely and did his duty as snappily as he qbuld. At length came the day when he received re-ceived his first lesson in bayoOet work. The soldiers had never seen so marked and so ludicrous a contrast as that afforded by the spectacle of this tender ten-der youth wielding a barbarous bayonet. bayo-net. "You, there! You've got to get madder mad-der than that!" stormed the instructor, wagging a finger at Curls. "Growl; show your teeth; get vicious and show Fritz you mean business. See?" Curls, his tendrils spiraling about his ears, was a sight for pity as he stood in the stretched-forward position posi-tion of "long point." He began to look miserably out of place. As time passed he grew better acquainted ac-quainted with the bayonet, handling it swiftly, cleverly and with more steadi-nep3 steadi-nep3 of nerve. Yet the instructor bawlod him out. Because, no matter how muclj he improved, his gentle, timid appearance belied his dexterity. "Say, you! Get fierce with that thrust or you will double-time over to that tree and back," bawled the instructor, in-structor, almost crushing Curls. "I tell you once more, you've got to get mad! " These hard-boiled corrections served their purpose, however pitiless they seemed to the pupi! or fruitless to the instructor, for Curls took more pr.ins to get every movement just right than to looh fighting mad. He acquired a certain amount of facility, b'at all the while it was being overshadowed by the appalling look of xeminine helplessness help-lessness in his face. This discouraged him a little enough to blind him to his growir:?- eiTicienvy in the art. Btit the hardest blow of all was the major's decree that all heads be cropped to one inch. '"Take off your hats! " he commanded com-manded from hi. mounted position in from of his battalion on inspection morning. His keen eye swept from man to man. resting suddenly with a piercing beam on Curls. "That man over there wearing curls i;et those things cut off right after this formation," ordered the officer. "Where did you get the- iaa this was a dolls' parade?" The embarrassed boy heard mirth escaping on all sides, while here nnd there a whispered and repeated "It's a dirty shame!" sounded oil. But.they realized they were now in the army. The treasured relics of li:s childhood child-hood ordered :ut crt! The physical charms he was known by! It was like a flag losing its colors or a dog his master or a bird her sons. The company's barber said, "Carls, you're out of luck," and begged him to have some one else do the job, but begged In vain, feeling, no doubt, as Imp pre- ' sasS? if fn. ?- '-f--ts a guillotine executioner ieels while cutting off' the head of his best friend. Eut. surprising to himself and all the camp, the close-clipped buck private pri-vate recovered in almost no time. He had the fortunate faculty of chamel-eoning chamel-eoning to ever-changing conditions. Hence his joining the army soon after war was declared. Where are they. Curls?" a barracks bar-racks pal asked, meaning the coils of hair. "Oh. in the trash can. I guess," was the unconcerned reply Curls made. "I'll ao much better at bayonet drill with bristles on my head to make me look mad, don't you think?" And so it did help. The instructor and his class saw at once a remarkable remark-able improvement in the bayonet worU 0f well, they still called him Curls. To them it seemed now tnt he threw himself into the business with more vim. pep. snap and real ferocity. His appearance was that of a maniac aoin a well-trained man's work clever thrusts. Hendish fencing, truick withdrawal:, of the blade from the dummy representing a Hun. "Men, you see Curls goes at the dummy as if he thought it were a Utrman coming at him," commented t'-e instructor, beginning to like the boy he formerly scolded so severely. "Xow you men who can't get guts into your movements, just wntch. Curls, stick Fritz for us." Curls, his ears more noticeable than before, his body and limbs aler. and bis jaw set, came t tha "on guard" position, launched into the "points' and butt strokes and attacked Fritz from various vantages. 0 "Ugh:" shuddered one chap with a heavy jaw, large muscles and other seeming indications of nerve, courage, guts. It made the big fellow actually nervous, so' vividly realistic was Curls's mimic combat. Time passed and Curls grew higher and higher in the estimation of both officers and men. And just before going overseas he was made a corporal. cor-poral. "Corporal Curls!" saluted his admirers ad-mirers warmly. In fact, besides the vaudevillian who sang rags nightly before thousands of - close-clipped khaki-clads, Curls enjoyed more popularity pop-ularity than any one else in camp. Officers, who were not supposed to relax into intimacy with their inferiors in-feriors in rank, supplied kindly smiles bmind the salutes they returned re-turned him. A few weeks later, when they had got overseas, his popularity reached various towns visited by furloughing soldiers. When was Corporal Curls coming with them? was the question the French girls asked the Americans. Some of them sent him their pictures, one of whom was a beautiful singer of local fame who played a banjo-mandolin. banjo-mandolin. She was fascinated by the description of Curls given her by the lad's admirers, and made them promise prom-ise to bring- him along the next time. Inevitably, Curls was to accompany them on their next furlough. Tuen appeared an obstacle. Juris, known for the locks that gave him his name, was not the original Curls described to the French women. He must have his curls again! And would he have them? . Really it was not right, they reasoned, to call him by lhat name and not allow him to wear his curls. So they got togetner and besought their commander a prince of a man-to do all he could through military channels to get Curls permission to grow back his locks. "Would you do it. Curls?" a sergeant asked, afraid he would not have them back. His face lit up with a faraway, wistful wist-ful expression. He didn't answer at once, but contemplated the possibility and the common sense-of wearing tendrils again. "If you want 'em," continued the uergaant, 'you can have 'em the C. O. said so," "You will make me vain and silly!'' waved Curls, as he went off down the aisle to bis bunk for a rest and fur- ther meditation on those very necessary neces-sary locks. i One way of looking at it, Curls was vain; but his vanity was of a harmless harm-less and quite pardonable species. Although Al-though he had long since gotten over the loss of the curls, and had. becomo accustomed to looking like the other men, still he did not object very much to wearing the ornaments of old again, because the men wanted him to. So to please them he grew girlish in looks once more. The barber delighted in washing and drying and tonicking the curls; suggested sug-gested new ripples, odd twists and cute hanging positions. So that, up at the front a few months later, Curls had some of the looks of William Penn, or John Bunyan, or Poet Milton! And now that he had back his locks he felt his old time pride in them. He was really "Curls" now. Again-especially in the fight he seemed ludicrously out of place; a banner of some humility society would have looked more fitting in his hands than the wicked bayonet. Yes, he was' an apparently harmless creature as he carried on among the fighting rough-necks, but those who knew him had often said he would do a man's d -'ble bit when the test came. Only t. ,".oy would be deceived. Another Jo..ii of Arc, they would think. What a savory victim for ravishing vandals and beer-sotted Saracens. After a while the fighting grew too intense for any one to keep an eye on Curls. Every man was for himself. him-self. Only now and then his shadowy form, with his curls flying from be-neatft be-neatft his helmet, was seen in silhouette sil-houette as he iunget at Hun after .-- -Isv :-.;r.".'- ""N.", . - : r.-'., -VT Hun. He was doing the work for which his training had fitted him. He was fighting the world's common enemy the thing he joined the army to do. How ill-becoming one o gentle! How much sweeter' it would be for him were he home with fair ones. And, oh, how nice to behold withiie touching distance the beautiful singer with whitest hands who fingered melodies from her mandolin! But war Is hideous, and Curls pushed on to do his part to end it the sooner. . At length there foil a lull, only a few barking guns active way off. On the field where heroes died unnumbered, unnum-bered, where men now lay wounded, dying and dead, some comrades of Curls came to him. His helmet lay half covering his forehead. His bayonet was gone. A comrade, doubting, doubt-ing, bent over him. "But this is not Curls!' 'he cried, half rising. "No not any curls!" remarked another. "Speak to us; is it you, Curls?" a thi:-d. "Ye. boys it's Curls." explained the sergeant, lifting the helmet. "You see, them Hell-yuns have scalped him!"