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Image provided by: New York State Military History Museum
GAS ATTACK 7 I THE IDEAS OF ETHELBURT JELLYBACK, PRIVATE, j XVI It was by far the m o st i gigantic idea I ever had. | It was so H erculean th a t I f hesitated at first to carry it out. Then, acting on im pulse, as I so often do, I summoned Jim IVIugrums to my side and gave him his in structions. I still retained Mugrums, crude fellow th a t he was, as my orderly, at a sal ary of three dollars a week. “I am undertaking a journey to Asheville over the week-end. My purposes are two fold: first to indulge in a social gaiety to which I, as a m em ber of the Jellyback fam ily, am en titled ; and secondly, to test my theory of camouflage. I shall go disguised as an officer.” “Some disguise, E th e lb u r t! ” “Don’t interrupt me, Mugrums. I have my whip-cord uniform in readiness, and my leather puttees; all th a t rem ains to be done is to adjust a bit of braid to my coat sleeves and bars for the shoulder—” “And handcuffs when you come back.” Mugrums Has a P a r t to Play. “And you will accom pany me in the guise of a F rench officer.” M ugrums stuttered. “I—I—w h add’ya m e a n ? ” To the astonished Mugrums I explained my schem e in detail. At first he balked. But the prom ise of a huge m o n etary rew a rd per suaded him. A fter having secured from the captain passes to leave camp, I took Mug rum s to a room in a downtown hotel. There we dressed, I in my officer’s garb, Mugrums in a uniform which I had colored horizon- blue by the dexterous use of Easter-egg dye. I even gave Mugrums blue spiral leg- gins, made by dyeing strips of an old shirt. W h en at length we were dressed, we left the hotel surreptitiously, by the servants’ entrance, though my aristocratic soul re belled at such necessary m eans of egress. We entered a closed limousine and were off for Asheville. It was rem arkable, how the officer’s uni form had revived som ething of the old Jelly back in me. I had cast off the psychological mien of a m ere private, and resum ed the air and m anners, the hauteur, I may say, of one accustom ed to the best set at home. M ugrums, on the other hand, squirm ed about restlessly. “You look worried, Mugrums. Are your fears bothering you?” “No, it’s my woolens.” Mugrums Gets a New Name. “You are no longer Jim Mugrums are Lieutenant Jacques M ugrummais are my m ilitary companion at a dance this evening at the Grove Park Inn, so pleasant ly situated in the Blue Ridge Mountains. You, by your dress and air, are to lend dis tinction to me. I tru s t you haven’t forgotten the French lessons I gave you.” On An Experiment in Camouflage With Jim Mugrums You You Mugrums looked down at his horizon-blue, uniform, rubbed it with his finger experi mentally, as if he expected the color to come off, and replied in disgust: “Did you expect me to rem em b er all that forrin lingo?” “Of course, I did. You at least recall th a t ‘ouf m eans ‘yes.’ You can use ‘ouf on more occasions than one. It often fits.” “We, we, E thelburt.” “Excellent, M ugrums—I mean, Lieutenant M ugrummais. The camouflage of your dic tion m u st harm o n ize w ith your appearance. We shall succeed.” W h a t a delight it was to reach the big hotel, and to stride into the lofty lobby with the glam o r of my camouflaged attire m aking me a figure to gaze at and adm ire! I had f “Mon clier Jacques,” I | said to him, “allow me to ? introduce to you Miss f Belleville.” W ith Miss Belleville, the m o st charm ing young woman in the ball room, we sat down. But instead of looking at me, she im m ediately began to devote all her interest to Mugrums. “Ah, L ieutenant Mugrummais, aimez vous la danse?” I held my breath, fearing th a t Mugrums would m ake an inept reply. “We, we,” he responded, , w hich was the right thing to say. “You are right, Lieutenant. Elle est char- m ant, n ’e st ce pas?” “We, we.” “But I dance so badly, n ’e st ce pas?” ‘We, we,” All Is Lost. Miss Belleville turned pale. She gasped. “Don you m ean th a t?” begun to feel like an officer. A private passed me and saluted, and in return I raised my arm and sm ashed it down w ith such a sm a rt salute th a t I nearly lost my balance. They S tart for the Ballroom. W e started for the ballroom. F irst, how ever, I detained Mugrums long enough to give him a m u stache. A distinguished one. I pasted it on w ith a bit of reliable paste. In the im m ense ballroom, w ith its ceiling supported by huge pillars of rough stone, and its gay crowd, I became more and more exhilarated as the evening progressed. I kept M ugrums constantly at my elbow, as if this gallant French officer were my boon companion. “We, we,” said Mugrums, blandly. “Do—do you—” she was suddenly enraged —“do you m ean to insult m e?” “We, we.” Miss Belleville screamed. Everybody looked our way. Miss Belle ville scream ed again. A crowd began to collect. All of a sudden her p a rtner came pushing his way to her side. I looked at him w ith horror. It was my captain. He listened to her agitated story and then stared at me long and searchingly. In some way he had recognized me. He rebuked me. He spoke harshly, all the while M ugrums stood at one (Continued on page 40).
