I may have been in hell but my
head's screwed on in the same place,"
"I wondered...I've heard so many stories about the grievances of the
soldiers."
"Every last one of 'em got a grievance. Hate their officers, and often
reason enough. Hate the discipline. Hate the food. Hate the neglect in
hospital when the flu is raging. Hate gettin' no letters, and as like as
not no pay and no tobacco. Hate bein' gouged by the French like they were
by the good Americans when they were in camp on the other side. Hate every
last thing a man just naturally would hate when he is livin' in a
filthy trench, or even camp, and homesick in the bargain....But as for
mass-dissatisfaction--not a bit of it. Loyal as they make 'em. Laugh at
Bolshevik propaganda just like they laughed at Hun propaganda. They just
naturally seem to hate every other race, allied or enemy, and that makes
them so all-fired American they're fit to bust. Of course there's plenty
of skallywags--caught in the draft--and just waitin' to get home and turn
loose on the community. But in the good old style: burglars, highwaymen,
yeggs. Not a new frill. Europe hasn't a thing on the good old American
criminal brand. They fought well, too. Any man does who's a man at all. But
Lord! they'll cut loose when they get back. Every wild bad trait they was
born with multiplied by one hundred and fifty...before I go any further I
want to warn you that I'm liable to break out into bad language any minute.
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