The Story of General Pershing Part 2

In reality, however, the only confusion is between the time when the thought entered Pershing's mind and the time when he entered the Military Academy.

An advertis.e.m.e.nt had appeared in the local papers concerning a compet.i.tive examination for entrance. The announcement bore the name of Congressman J. H. Barrows, the "greenback" representative of the district, formerly a Baptist minister. He was looked upon by his const.i.tuency as true and reliable, a reputation that was not without its appeal to the lads who wanted to go to West Point. It is a current report that not always had these appointments been made on merit alone and that "from $250 to $500 was the amount frequently paid to obtain them." The examination was to be conducted at Trenton, Mo., and was open to all who were eligible.

Pershing decided to try. In making this decision his sister strongly encouraged him, and was the only one of his family who was aware of his plan. His room-mate writes that Pershing urged him also to try. "No," I told him, "I didn't know that I could pa.s.s." "Well," he said, "you'd better come and we'll take a chance. One or the other of us ought to win." I told him he had been in school three months while I had been selling goods, and that if he thought he would like it, to go, that I didn't care for it. But I should like to have the education, though I should probably stay in the army if I happened to pa.s.s. "No," he said, "I wouldn't stay in the army. There won't be a gun fired in the world for a hundred years. If there isn't, I'll study law, I guess, but I want an education and now I see how I can get it."

Eighteen took the examination and Pershing won, though by only a single point, and that was given only after he and his compet.i.tor, Higginbottom, had broken the tie by each diagramming the following sentence--"_I love to run!_"

Higginbottom's solution--

"I"--subject.

"love"--predicate.

"to run"--infinitive phrase qualifying the meaning of the verb.

Pershing's solution was as follows:

"I"--subject.

"love"--predicate, "to run"--is the object.

The commission preferred Pershing's diagram, and thus by a single point he won the compet.i.tive examination and received the appointment.

When, however, Pershing and his sister informed their mother that he had pa.s.sed the best examination and was to receive the appointment to West Point, she expressed her strong disapproval of the plan to make a soldier of John. Her objections were finally overcome, and she consented, partly because she believed her boy when he said "there would not be a gun fired for a hundred years" and partly because she was even more eager than he for him to obtain a good education.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Highland Military Academy.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: United States Military Academy, West Point, N. Y.]

Thirty years afterward General Pershing himself wrote: "The proudest days of my life, with one exception, have come to me in connection with West Point days that stand out clear and distinct from all others. The first of these was the day I won my appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a compet.i.tive examination with seventeen compet.i.tors. An old friend of the family happened to be at Trenton that day and pa.s.sing on the opposite side of the street called to me and said, 'John, I hear you pa.s.sed with flying colors.' In all seriousness, feeling the great importance of my success, I naively replied in a loud voice, 'Yes, I did,' feeling a.s.sured that no one had ever pa.s.sed such a fine examination as I had."

In spite of his success, however, Pershing was not yet ready to take up the strenuous course in the Military Academy. The work is severe and only the fittest are supposed to survive. He must have a more careful preparation in certain branches, he decided, and accordingly entered the Highland Military Academy, Highland Falls, New York, in which he continued as a student until the following June (1882). The head of the school was sincerely loved and deeply respected by his boys, and in after years General Pershing usually referred to him as "splendid old Caleb"--for "Caleb" was the t.i.tle the students had bestowed upon Col.

Huse.

In the military school Pershing's record is much what one who has followed his development in the preceding years would expect it to be.

He was an earnest, consistent student, doing well and steadily improving in his work, without any flashes of brilliancy. He was moving not by leaps but steadily toward the education he was determined to obtain.

Those who recall him as a pupil at Highland say that he is best remembered for his physical strength and his skill as a horseman.

Doubtless he had had training and experiences which were outside those which many of his cla.s.smates had shared.

At last in July, 1882, when he was not quite twenty-two years of age, Pershing became a plebe in the United States Military Academy at West Point. A part of his dream had been realized. His record shows that he still was manifesting the traits he already had displayed. Persistent, determined, methodical, a hard and steady worker, he was numbered thirty when he graduated in his cla.s.s of seventy-seven. However, his "all around" qualities were shown by the fact that in his fourth cla.s.s or final year, upon the recommendation of the commandant of Cadets, he was appointed by the Superintendent of the Academy to be the senior, that is, first in rank, of all the cadet captains--an honor worth while and of which Pershing was justly proud.

His love of West Point has always been strong. He is proud of the school and proud to be counted among its graduates. Loyal in all ways he has been specially loyal to West Point. Perhaps his true feeling can be best shown by the following letter written by him when he was in far-away Mindanao. He was cla.s.s president at the time and sent the letter for the twenty-fifth anniversary of the graduation of the cla.s.s. Like many an "old grad" the thoughts of the writer turn affectionately to the old days. The joys and disappointments are alike remembered and General Pershing shows a slight tendency to recall an occasional slip in the strict rules of the inst.i.tution. This infraction is not upheld by him, and his friends, who are fully aware of his belief in strict discipline, will perhaps condone the slight infringement when they are aware that he records also the strict penalty which followed it. He indirectly shows that the infraction was due not to a desire to avoid a task but came of a grim determination to accomplish it.

GREETING TO THE CLa.s.s.

Headquarters, Department of Mindanao.

Zamboanga, P. I.

March 15, 1911.

To the Cla.s.s of 1886, U. S. Military Academy, West Point, New York.

DEAR CLa.s.sMATES:

The announcement in the circular sent out by your committee saying that I would write a letter of greeting to be read at the cla.s.s reunion imposes upon me a very pleasant obligation. It gives me an opportunity as Cla.s.s President to write you collectively and to say many things that I would like to say if I were writing to each individual.

Above all, however, I am permitted to feel myself a real part of the reunion. This letter shall be a heartfelt and sincere word of greeting from the opposite side of the world. I shall try to imagine myself among you around the banquet table or perhaps again in the old tower room, first floor, first division, or familiarly even in the "usual place." With this greeting I also send a word of explanation and regret for my absence, a few lines of reminiscence and pages of affection and friendship for all recorded at random.

It is unfortunate indeed for me that higher authority has concluded that I should not leave my post at this time. This is a great disappointment to me. There is nothing that could equal the pleasure of meeting once more with old '86--companions of my youth, the friendship for whom is above all others the dearest and most lasting. To be again for a few hours as in the olden days at West Point with those who stood shoulder to shoulder with me and I with them through over four years, would be worth a great sacrifice. The thought makes me long for cadet days again. I would gladly go back into the corps (although of course it has gone entirely to the dogs since we were cadets) and gladly (in spite of this) go through the whole course from beginning to end to be with you all as we were then. Life meant so much to us--probably more than it ever has since--when the soul was filled to the utmost with ambition and the world was full of promise.

The proudest days of my life, with one exception, have come to me in connection with West Point days that stand out clear and distinct from all others. The first of these was the day I won my appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a compet.i.tive examination with seventeen compet.i.tors. An old friend of the family happened to be at Trenton that day and pa.s.sing on the opposite side of the street, called to me and said, "John, I hear you pa.s.sed with flying colors." In all seriousness, feeling the great importance of my success, I naively replied, in a loud voice, "Yes, I did,"

feeling a.s.sured that no one had ever quite pa.s.sed such a fine examination as I had. The next red letter day was when I was elected President of the Cla.s.s of '86. I didn't know much about cla.s.s presidents until the evening of our meeting to effect a cla.s.s organization. To realize that a body of men for whom I had such an affectionate regard should honor me in this way was about all my equilibrium would stand. Another important day was when I made a cold max in Phil. at June examination under dear old Pete, with Arthur Murray as instructor. This was the only max I ever made in anything. I fairly floated out of the library and back to the barracks. The climax of days came when the marks were read out on graduation day in June, 1886. Little Eddy Gayle smiled when I reported five minutes later with a pair of captain's chevrons pinned on my sleeves.

No honor has ever come equal to that. I look upon it in the very same light to-day as I did then.

Some way these days stand out and the recollection of them has always been to me a great spur and stimulus.

What memories come rushing forward to be recorded.

It was at Colonel Huse's school, now called The Rocks, I believe, with splendid old Caleb at its head that several of us got the first idea of what we were really in for. Deshon, Frier, Winn, Andrews, Clayton, Billy Wright, Stevens, Segare and the rest of us at Caleb's used to wrestle with examinations of previous years and flyspeck page after page of stuff that we forgot completely before Plebe camp was over.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cal. Huse

Splendid Old Caleb]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Kirksville, Mo. State Normal School.]

This brings up a period of West Point life whose vivid impressions will be the last to fade.

Marching into camp, piling bedding, policing company streets for logs or wood carelessly dropped by upper cla.s.smen, pillow fights at tattoo with Marcus Miller, sabre drawn marching up and down superintending the plebe cla.s.s, policing up feathers from the general parade; light artillery drills, double timing around old Fort Clinton at morning squad drill, Wiley Bean and the sad fate of his seersucker coat; midnight dragging, and the whole summer full of events can only be mentioned in pa.s.sing. No one can ever forget his first guard tour with all its preparation and perspiration. I got along all right during the day, but at night on the color line my troubles began. Of course, I was scared beyond the point of properly applying any of my orders. A few minutes after taps, ghosts of all sorts began to appear from all directions.

I selected a particularly bold one and challenged according to orders, "Halt, who comes there?" At that the ghost stood still in its tracks. I then said, "Halt, who stands there?" Whereupon the ghost, who was carrying a chair, sat down. When I promptly said, "Halt, who sits there?"

After plebe camp came plebe math and French. I never stood high in French and was p.r.o.ne to burn the midnight oil. One night Walcott and Burtley Mott came in to see me. My room-mate, "Lucy" Hunt, was in bed asleep. Suddenly we heard Flaxy, who was officer in charge, coming up the stairs several steps at a time. Mott sprang across the hall into his own room. I s.n.a.t.c.hed the blanket from the window, turned out the light and leaped into bed, clothing and all, while Walcott seeing escape impossible, gently woke Hunt, and in a whisper said, "Lucy, may I crawl under your bed?"

I paid the penalty by walking six tours of extra duty.

The rest of it--yearling camp and its release from plebedom, the first appearance in the riding hall of the famous '86 New England Cavalry, furlough and the return up the Hudson on the _Mary Powell_; second year cla.s.s with its increasing responsibilities and dignity--must all be pa.s.sed with slight notice. While the days were not always filled with unalloyed pleasure, to be sure, yet no matter how distasteful anything else may have been up to that time there is none of us who would not gladly live first cla.s.s camp over again--summer girls, summer hops, first cla.s.s privileges, possible engagements, twenty-eighth hop, and then the home stretch. As we look back from the distance of a quarter of a century the years went by all too rapidly.

The career of '86 at West Point was in many respects remarkable. There were no cliques, no dissensions and personal prejudices or selfishness, if any existed, never came to the surface. From the very day we entered, the cla.s.s as a unit has always stood for the very best traditions of West Point. The spirit of old West Point existed to a higher degree in the cla.s.s of '86 than in any cla.s.s since the war. The West Point under Merritt, Michie and Hasbrouck was still the West Point of Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Schofield and Howard. The deep impression these great men made during their visits to West Point in our day went far to inspire us with the soldier's spirit of self-sacrifice, duty and honor. Those characteristics were carried with us into the Army and have marked the splendid career of the cla.s.s during the past twenty-five years.

The Cla.s.s of '86 has always been known in the Army and is known to-day as a cla.s.s of all-around solid men--capable of ably performing any duty and of loyally fulfilling any trust. The individual character of each man has made itself felt upon his fellows in the Army from the start. In civil life, as professional men, or as men of affairs, wherever placed the Cla.s.s of '86 has always made good. Well may we congratulate ourselves upon reaching this quarter century milestone, on the achievements of the cla.s.s.

If I thought you would listen longer I should continue, but the evening will be full of song and reminiscence. Those of us out here will a.s.semble at Manila and wish we were with you at West Point. It may be that age and experience will prevent a repet.i.tion of the lurid scenes enacted at the cla.s.s dinner in New York in '86. Yet when you feel time turn backward and the hot blood of those days again courses through your veins, there is no telling what may happen. Still all will be for the glory of the Cla.s.s and will be condoned.

Then here's to the Cla.s.s of '86, wives and sweethearts, children and grandchildren, your health and your success!

Always affectionately, J. J. P.

CHAPTER IV

FIGHTING THE APACHES AND THE SIOUX

AT last the days at West Point were ended and the cla.s.s of '86 was to take its place with others in the wide, wide world. To young Pershing fell the lot to be a.s.signed to the Sixth Cavalry in the southwest, where General Miles, the successor of General Crook, was soon to bring the war against the Apaches to an end. He was then a second lieutenant.

The wily and daring leader of the redmen was commonly known as Geronimo, a medicine man and prophet of the Chiricahuas. Strictly speaking, the Indian's true name was Goyathlay, "one who yawns," but the Mexicans had nicknamed him Geronimo--the Spanish for Jerome.