{ title: 'The Rio Grande rattler. ([McAllen], Hidalgo County, Tex.) 1916-1917, February 09, 1918, Page 10, Image 10', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-02-09/ed-1/seq-10/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-02-09/ed-1/seq-10.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-02-09/ed-1/seq-10/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-02-09/ed-1/seq-10/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
Image provided by: New York State Military History Museum
8 THE WADSWORTH GAS ATTACK a n d RIO GRANDE RATTLER “ Halt! Who is there?” “Friend w ith two pies.” “Advance, one to be recognized.” TAPS TIME. As My Friend, Mr. Damon Runyon, M ight W rite It. By A rthur Robinson, Co. B, Officers’ Train ing School. Scene: The interior of a tent. A corporal and seven privates are grouped around a Sibley stove. The corporal is nearest the fire. “Call to q u a rters” is due to sound in a few m inutes and will, undoubtedly, sound at the scheduled time. F ir s t P rivate (who is furthest away from the fire, rath e r obstreperously): “W hud I w anna know is a guy w h a t’s a corporal en titled to all the fire in this arm y ? ’A t’s whud I w anna know.” Corporal (som ew h at indignantly): “W hud 1 know is th a t th e r e ’s some guys in this arm y whud don’t know their places—’a t’s whud ! know, I ’ll tell the world.” F ir s t P rivate (brusquely): “Are you talk in’ about anybuddy in ’ticular? If you are, why don’t you say so?” Corporal (indifferently): “I ain’t talking about nobody, I ain't. If I wuz I’d say so.” F ir s t P r iv a te: “It's a m ighty good thing you’re not.” Corporal (w ith a violent show of defiance and au th o r ity ) : “W h u d ’s a m ighty good thing ?” F ir s t P rivate (startled, but reso lu tely ): “W hud I said.” Corporal (aggressively and authoritative ly) : “W hud you say?” Second P rivate (in a bored m a n n e r ) : “Oh, for th ’ love o’ Mike, can ’at chatter.” Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and E ighth P rivates (in ch o r u s ) : “Yeh, can ’at chatter.” (The belligerents scowl and stare into the fire. A brief silence follows). Second P rivate (breaking the silence, q u ietly ) : “Say, did you guys ever hear ’at story about the—■” Third P rivate (flaring u p ) : “G reat Scott! Ain’t anybody in this arm y got no rights a- tall? Mus’ he listen to stories all the tim e? Ain’t there no peace in this world, any place?” Second P rivate (peeved): “Oh, well, if thass the way you feel about it ’sail right. But this story’s a corker. This is a bear, this one is.” Third P rivate (sarcastically): “Yeh, they all are. But les’ save it. Jes, you save ’at lil’ story. Save it for another tim e .” F ir s t P rivate (edging his way closer to the fire, as though to h im s e lf ) : “I can’t under stand how some corporals get ’a t w a y ,, I can’t.” Corporal (inquiringly): “W h u zat? W huz- at? W ho’s saying things about corporals? W ho’s saying things about corporals ?” F ir s t P rivate (ignoring corporal): “I get the wood, chop it and build the fire, and the closest I get to ’at there lil’ blaze o’ mine is ziss. I’ll be blow e d !” Second P rivate (cautiously): “At story I wuz gonna tell you’s a pip—” Fourth P rivate (proudly): “T a lkin’ of pips. Say, did I show you birds the picture of my gal I got to-day? T h e re is a real pip for you.” Sixth P rivate (sarcastically ): “Yeh, tell us som ething about ’at girl o’ yourn for a change.” Seventh P rivate (excitedly): “If I have to lissen to any more hoy about 'at gal I’ll desert, sure as we go on K. P.” Second, Third and Fourth P rivates (sit ting u p ) : “W h o ’s going on K. P.?” Seventh P rivate (apologetically): “I wuz jes’ saying. Nobody’s goin’ on K. P. whud I know of. I wuz je s ’ saying.” Third P rivate (relieved): “Don’t say no more things like ’at. I gotta a w eak h e a rt.” Second Private (insin u a tin g ): “Yeh, don’t you get to saying things like ’at. ’S a had habit. ’S liable to get you in trouble.” (Call to quarters sounds.) Fifth P rivate (grum b ling): “Seems to me I don’t hear nothin’ b u t bugles and w h istles. I don’t like w h istles, I’ll tell the world. The guy whud invented w h istles m u st o’ been sore at the world, sure.” (One by one they begin to get ready to go to sleep. One by one they tum b le into their cots. ■ Only the F ir s t P rivate rem a ins at the fire. The light is out, and the door of the stove is open. The flames cast their shadow on the front of the tent. Taps sounds. The corporal and privates are strangely silent and attentive. The last note of the bugle dies on the air.) Third Private (peeking up from beneath his b lan k e ts): “Fellows, th e r e ’s real music for you—th a t there Taps. It jes’ soothes the soul and m akes you love the world.” Fourth Private (q u ietly ): “I’ll be darned if it don’t.” Sixth Private (rolling o v e r ) : “W ish I could fall to sleep. I’m havin’ lots o’ trouble failin' to sleep, lately.” Eighth P rivate (ironically): “My trouble is getting up. It seems I no sooner get to sleep than I hear ’at darn w h istle again.” (A few of the men doze off.) F ir s t P rivate (staring into the f i r e ) : “W ish I had a glass o’ b e e r.” Corporal (sitting up in his c o t ) : “W h u z at? W ho’s got ’at beer? I w ant a swig.” F ir s t P rivate (laughingly): “’Sail right, corpie, ol’ hoy. Don’t you get excited. I wuz jes’ sayin’ as how I’d like to have a glass o’ b e e r.” Corporal (sinking back in his c o t ) : “You w anna he more careful about sayin’ things like ’at. ’S a had habit.” (The F ir s t Private tum b les into his cot. The men are quiet for a m inute or two.) Second P rivate (d e s p e rately): “I’m goin’ to tell you birds ’at story if I have to go to Luna Park for it.” (No answ e r or rebuke.) Second Private (encouraged): “It wuz like th i s : ’Sis rookie wuz standing his first in spection. He didn’t know much about in spections, and had quite a beard. The m ajor comes in front o’ him, puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head and stares at the beard. ‘Ha, h a ! ’ says the m ajor, ‘no shave.’ ‘He, h e ! ’ says the rookie, ‘no razor.’ ” (The Second P rivate sits up in his cot, continuing): “Say, don’t you birds ever laugh at a good story? Ain’t you birds got no sense o’ hum o r?” (He pauses, stares about in the darkness.) “W ell, I’ll be darned. THEY ’RE SLEEPIN G !”
