Chapter X: Part 10

The windows were all lit up with a warm, rosy light and there were curtains at the windows, rosy pink curtains like the ones they used to have at the house where his girl lived, long ago before the War spoiled him. He stood and continued to gaze until a lot of cash-boys, let loose from the toil of the day, rushed by and almost knocked his crutch from under him. Then he determined to get nearer this wonder. Carefully watching his opportunity he hobbled across the street and went slowly around the building. Yes, it was real. Some public building, of course, but how wonderful to have it look so like a home! Why had they done it?

Then he came around toward the side, and there in plain letters was a sign: “Soldiers and Sailors in Uniform Welcome.” What? Was it possible? Then he might go in? What kind of a place could it be?

He raised his eyes a little and there, slung out above the neatly shingled porch, like any sign, swung an immense fat brown doughnut a foot and a half in diameter, with the sugar apparently still sticking to it, and inside the rough hole sat a big white coffee cup. His heart leaped up and something suddenly gave him an idea. He fumbled in his pocket, brought out a card, saw that this was the Salvation Army hut, and almost shouted with joy. He lost no time in hurrying around to the door and stepping inside.

There revealed before him was a great cozy room, with many easy-chairs and tables, a piano at which a young soldier sat playing ragtime, and at the farther end a long white counter on which shone two bright steaming urns that sent forth a delicious odor of coffee. Through an open door behind the counter he caught a glimpse of two Salvation Army lassies busy with some cups and plates, and a third enveloped in a white apron was up to her elbows in flour, mixing something in a yellow bowl. By one of the little tables two soldier boys were eating doughnuts and coffee, and at another table a sailor sat writing a letter. It was all so cozy and homelike that it took his breath away and he stood there blinking at the lights that flooded the rooms from graceful white bowl-like globes that hung suspended from the ceiling by brass chains. He saw that the rosy light outside had come from soft pink silk sash curtains that covered the lower part of the windows, and there were inner draperies of some heavier flowered material that made the whole thing look real and substantial. The willow chairs had cushions of the same flowered stuff. The walls were a soft pearly gray below and creamy white above, set off by bands of dark wood, and a dark floor with rush mats strewn about. He looked around slowly, taking in every detail almost painfully. It was such a contrast to the noisy, rushing street, a contrast to the hospital, and the trenches and all the life with which he had been familiar during the past few dreadful months. It made him think of home and mother. He began to be afraid he was going to cry like a great big baby, and he looked around nervously for a place to get out of sight. He saw a fellow going upstairs and at a distance he followed him. Up there was another bright, quiet room, curtained and cushioned like the other, with more easy willow chairs, round willow tables, and desks over by the wall where one might write. The soldier who had come up ahead of him was already settled writing now at a desk in the far corner. There were bookcases between the windows with new beautifully bound books in them, and there were magazines scattered around, and no rules that one must not spit on the floor, or put their feet in the chairs, or anything of the sort. Only, of course, no one would ever dream of doing anything like that in such a place. How beautiful it was, and how quiet and peaceful! He sank into a chair and looked about him. What rest!

And now there were real tears in his eyes which he hastened to brush roughly away, for someone was coming toward him and a hand was on his shoulder. A man’s voice, kindly, pleasant, brotherly, spoke:

“All in, are you, my boy? Well, you just sit and rest yourself awhile. What do you think of our hut? Good place to rest? Well, that’s what we want it to be to you, Home. Just drop in here whenever you’re in town and want a place to rest or write, or a bite of something homelike to eat.”

He looked up to the broad shoulders in their well-fitting dark blue uniform, and into the kindly face of the gray-haired Colonel of the Salvation Army who happened to step in for a minute on business and had read the look on the lonesome boy’s face just in time to give a word of cheer. He could have thrown his arms around the man’s neck and kissed him if he only hadn’t been too shy. But in spite of the shyness he found himself talking with this fine strong man and telling him some of his disappointments and perplexities, and when the older man left him he was strengthened in spirit from the brief conversation. Somehow it didn’t look quite so black a prospect to have but one foot.

He read a magazine for a little while and then, drawn by the delicious odors, he went downstairs and had some coffee and doughnuts. He saw while he was eating that the front porch opened out of the big lower room and was all enclosed in glass and heated with radiators. A lot of fellows were sitting around there in easy-chairs, smoking, talking, one or two sleeping in their chairs or reading papers. It had a dim, quiet light, a good place to rest and think. He was more and more filled with wonder. Why did they do it? Not for money, for they charged hardly enough to pay for the materials in the food they sold, and he knew by experience that when one had no money one could buy of them just the same if one were in need.

Later in the evening he took out the little card again and looked up the other address. He wanted one of those clean, sweet beds that he had been hearing about, that one could get for only a quarter a night, with all the shower-bath you wanted thrown in. So he went out again and found his way down to Forty-first Street.

There was something homelike about the very atmosphere as he entered the little office room and looked about him. Beyond, through an open door he could see a great red brick fireplace with a fire blazing cheerfully and a few fellows sitting about reading and playing checkers. Everybody looked as if they felt at home.

When he signed his name in the big register book the young woman behind the desk who wore an overseas uniform glanced at his signature and then looked up as if she were welcoming an old friend:

“There’s a telegram here for you,” she said pleasantly. “It came last night and we tried to locate you at the camp but did not succeed. One of our girls went over to camp this afternoon, but they said you were gone on a furlough, so we hoped you would turn up.”

She handed over the telegram and he took it in wonder. Who would send him a telegram? And here of all places! Why, how would anybody know he would be here? He was so excited his crutch trembled under his arm as he tore open the envelope and read:

“Dear Billy (It was a regular letter!):
“I am leaving to-night for New York. Will meet you at Salvation
Hostel day after to-morrow morning. What is a foot more or less?
Can’t I be hands and feet for you the rest of your life? I’m proud,
proud, proud of you!

Signed “Jean”

He found great tears coming into his eyes and his throat was full of them, too. It didn’t matter if that Salvation Army lassie behind the counter did see them roll down his cheeks. He didn’t care. She would understand anyway, and he laughed out loud in his joy and relief, the first joy, the first relief since he was hurt!

Some one else was coming in the door, another fellow maybe, but the lassie opened a door in the desk and drew him behind the counter in a shaded corner where no one would notice and brought him a cup of tea, which she said was all they had around to eat just then. She didn’t pay any attention to him till he got his equilibrium again.

She was the kind of woman one feels is a natural-born mother. In fact, the fellows were always asking her wistfully: “May we call you Mother?” Young enough to understand and enter into their joys and sorrows, yet old enough to be wise and sweet and true. She mothered every boy that came.

A sailor boy once asked if he might bring his girl to see her. He said he wanted her to see her so she could tell his mother about her.

“But can’t you tell her about your girl?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, but I want you to tell her.” he said. “You see, whatever you say mother’ll know is true.”

So presently she turned to this lonely boy and took him upstairs through the pleasant upper room with its piano and games, its sun parlor over the street, lined with trailing ferns, with cheery canaries in swinging tasseled cages, who looked fully as happy and at home as did the soldier boys who were sitting about comfortably reading. She found him a room with only one other bunk in it. Nice white beds with springs like air and mattresses like down. She showed him where the shower-baths were, and with a kindly good-night left him. He almost wanted to ask her to kiss him good-night, so much like his own mother she seemed.

Before he got into that white bed he knelt beside it, all clean and comfortable and happy like a little child that had wandered a long way from home and got back again, and he told God he was sorry and ashamed for all the way he had doubted, and sinned, and he wanted to live a new life and be good. Then he lay down to sleep. To-morrow morning Jean would be there. And she didn’t mind about the foot! She didn’t mind! How wonderful!

And then he had a belated memory of the little Salvation Army lassie on the wharf who had brought all this about, and he closed his eyes and murmured out loud to the clean, white walls: “God bless her! Oh, God bless her!”

This is only one of the many stories that might be told about the boys who have been helped by the various activities of the Salvation Army, both at home and abroad.

It would be well worth one’s while to visit their Brooklyn Hospital and their New York Hospital and all their other wonderful institutions. In several of them are many little children, some mere infants, belonging to soldiers and sailors away in the war. In some instances the mother is dead, or has to work. If she so desires she is given work in the institution, which is like a real home, and allowed to be with her child and care for it. Where both mother and father are dead the child remains for six years or until a home elsewhere is provided for it. Here the little ones are well cared for, not in the ordinary sense of an institution, but as a child would be cared for in a home, with beauty and love, and pleasure mingling with the food and shelter and raiment that is usually supplied in an institution. These children are prettily, though simply, dressed and not in uniform; with dainty bits of color in hair ribbon, collar, necktie or frock; the babies have wee pink and blue wool caps and sacks like any beloved little mites, they ride around on Kiddie Cars, play with doll houses and have a fine Kindergarten teacher to guide their young minds, and the best of hospital service when they are ailing. But that is another story, and there are yet many of them. If everybody could see the beautiful life-size painting of Christ blessing the little children which is painted right on the very wall and blended into the tinting, they could better comprehend the spirit which pervades this lovely home.

The New York Hospital, which has just been rebuilt and refurnished with all the latest appliances, is in charge of a devoted woman physician, who has given her life to healing, and has at the head of its Board one of the most noted surgeons in the city, who gives his services free, and boasts that he enjoys it best of all his work. Here those of small means or of no means at all, especially those belonging to soldiers and sailors, may find healing of the wisest and most expert kind, in cheery, airy, sanitary and beautiful rooms. But here, too, to understand, one must see. Just a peep into one of those dainty white rooms would rest a poor sick soul; just a glance at the room full of tiny white basket cribs with dainty blue satin-bound blankets—real wool blankets—and white spreads, would convince one.

And what one sees in New York in the line of such activities is duplicated in most of the other large cities of the United States.

Not the least of the Salvation Army service for the returning soldiers is the work that is done on the docks by the lassies meeting returning troop ships. They send telegrams free, not C.O.D., for them, give the men stamped postal cards, hunt up relatives, answer questions, and give them chocolate while they wait for the inevitable roll call before they can entrain. Often these girls will sit up half the night after having met boats nearly all day, to get the telegrams all off that night. It is interesting to note that on one single day, April 20th, 1919, the Salvation Army Headquarters in New York sent 2900 such free telegrams for returning soldiers.

The other day the father of a soldier came to Headquarters with an anxious face, after a certain unit from overseas had returned. It was the unit in which his boy had gone to France, but he had written saying he was in the hospital without stating what was the matter or how serious his wound. No further word had been received and the father and mother were frenzied with grief. They had tried in every way to get information but could find out nothing. The Salvation Army went to work on the telephone and in a short time were able to locate the missing boy in a Casual Company soon to return, and to report to his anxious father that he was recovering rapidly.

Another soldier arrived in New York and sent a Salvation Army telegram to his father and mother in California who had previously received notification that he was dead. A telegram came back to the Salvation Army almost at once from the West stating this fact and begging some one to go to the camp where the boy’s Casual Company was located and find out if he were really living. One of the girls from the office went over to the Debarkation Hospital immediately and saw the boy, and was able to telegraph to his parents that he was perfectly recovered and only awaiting transportation to California. He was overjoyed to see someone who had heard from his parents.

A portion of one troop ship had been reserved for soldiers having influenza. These men were kept on board long after all the others had left the ship. A Salvation Army worker seeing them with the white masks over their faces went on board and served them with chocolate, distributing post cards and telegraph blanks. When she was leaving the ship a Captain said to her rather brusquely: “Don’t you realize that you have done a foolish thing? Those men have influenza and your serving them might mean your death!”

Looking up into the man’s eyes the Salvationist said: “I am ready to die if God sees fit to call me.”

The officer laughed and told her that was the first time in his life he had known anyone to say they were ready to die and would willingly expose themselves to such a contagious disease.

“Aren’t you ready to die?” asked the girl. “Certainly not,” replied the Captain. “Sometimes I think I am hardly fit to live, much less die.”

“Don’t you realize that there is a Power which can enable you to live in such a way as to make you ready to die?”

“Oh, well, I don’t bother about going to church, in fact, I don’t bother about religion at all, although I must say once or twice when I was up the line over there I wished I did know something about religion, that is, the kind that makes a fellow feel good about dying; but I don’t want to go to church and go through all that business.”

“It is possible to accept Christ here and now on this very spot—on this ship—if you’ll only believe,” said the girl wistfully.

The Captain could not help being interested and thoughtful. When she left, after a little more talk he put out his hand and said:

“Thank you. You’ve done me more good than any sermon could have done me, and believe me, I am going to pray and trust God to help me live a different life.”

Sad things are seen on the docks at times when the ships come into port, and the boys are coming home.

A soldier in a basket, with both arms and both legs gone and only one eye, was being carried tenderly along.

“Why do you let him live?” asked one pityingly of the Commanding Officer.

The gruff, kindly voice replied:

“You don’t know what life is. We don’t live through our arms and legs. We live through our hearts.”

Some of our boys have learned out there amid shell fire to live through their hearts.

One of these lying on a litter greeted the lassie from Indiana, just come back to New York from France to meet the boys when they landed:

“Hello, Sister! _You here?_”

Her eyes filled with tears as she recognized one of her old friends of the trenches, and noticed how helpless he was now, he who had been the strongest of the strong. She murmured sympathetically some words of attempted cheer:

“Oh, that’s all right, Sister,” he said, “I know they got me pretty hard, but I don’t mind that. I’m not going to feel bad about it. I got something better than arms and legs over in one of your little huts in France. I found Jesus, and I’m going to live for Him. I wanted you to know.”

A few days later she was talking with another boy just landed. She asked him how it seemed to be home again, and to her surprise he turned a sorrowful face to her:

“It’s the greatest disappointment of my life,” he said sadly, “the folks here don’t understand. They all want to make me forget, and I don’t want to forget what I learned out there. I saw life in a different way and I knew I had wasted all the years. I want to live differently now, and mother and her friends are just getting up dances and theatre parties for me to help me to forget. They don’t understand.”

Forty miles west of Chicago is Camp Grant and there the Salvation Army has put up a hut just outside of the camp.

During the days when the boys were being sent to France, and were under quarantine, unable to go out, no one was allowed to come in and there was great distress. Mothers and sisters and friends could get no opportunity to see them for farewells.

The Salvation officer in charge suggested to the military authorities that the Salvation Army hut be the clearing place for relatives, and that he would come in his machine and bring the boys to the hut, taking them back again afterwards, that they might have a few hours with their friends before leaving for France.

This offer was readily accepted by the authorities, and so it was made possible for hundreds and hundreds of mothers to get a last talk with their boys before they left, some of them forever.

One day a young man came to the Salvation Army officer and told him that his regiment was to depart that night and that he was in great distress about his wife who on her way to see him had been caught in a railroad wreck, and later taken on her way by a rescue train. “I think she is in Rockford somewhere,” he said anxiously, “but I don’t know where, and I have to leave in three hours!”

The Ensign was ready with his help at once. He took the young soldier in his car to Rockford, seven miles away, and they went from hotel to hotel seeking in vain for any trace of the wife. Then suddenly as they were driving along the street wondering what to try next the young soldier exclaimed: “There she is!” And there she was, walking along the street!

The two had a blessed two hours together before the soldier had to leave. But it was all in the day’s work for the Salvation Army man, for his main object in life is to help someone, and he never minds how much he puts himself out. It is always reward enough for him to have succeeded in bringing comfort to another.

One of the Salvation Army Ensigns who was assigned to work at Camp Grant hut had been an all-round athlete before he joined the Salvation Army, a boxer and wrestler of no mean order.

The fame of the Ensign went abroad and the doctor at the Base Hospital asked him to take charge of athletics in the hospital. He was also appointed regularly as chaplain in the hospital. Every day he drilled the five hundred women nurses in gymnastics, and put the men attendants and as many of the patients as were able through a set of exercises. Thus mingling his religion with his athletics he became a great power among the men in the hospital.

The Salvation Army asked the hospital if there was anything they could do for the wounded men. The reply was, that there were eighty wards and not a graphophone in one of them, nothing to amuse the boys. The need was promptly filled by the Salvation Army which supplied a number of graphophones and a piano. Then, discovering that the nurses who were getting only a very small cash allowance out of which they had to furnish their uniforms, were short of shoes, the indefatigable good Samaritan produced a thousand dollars to buy new shoes for them. The Salvation Army has always been doing things like that.

The Salvation Army built many huts, locating them wherever there was need among the camps. They have a hut at Camp Grant, one at Camp Funston, one at Camp Travis, San Antonio, one at Camp Logan, Houston, Texas, one at Camp Bowie, Fort Worth, one at Camp Cody, Deming, New Mexico, one at Camp Lewis, Tacoma, a Soldiers’ Club at Des Moines, a Soldiers’ Club with Sitting Room, Dining Room, and rooms for a hundred soldiers just opened at Chicago. There is a charge of twenty-five cents a night and twenty-five cents a meal for such as have money. No charge for those who have no money. There is such a Soldiers’ Club at St. Louis, Kansas City, St. Paul and Minneapolis. All of these places at the camps have accommodations for women relatives to visit the soldiers, and all of the rooms are always full to the limit.

In Des Moines the Army has an interesting institution which grew out of a great need.

The Federal authorities have placed a Woman’s Protective Agency in all Camp towns. At Des Moines the woman representative of the Federal Government sent word to the Salvation Army that she wished they would help her. She said she had found so many young girls between the ages of fourteen and sixteen who were being led into an immoral life through the soldiers, and she wished the Salvation Army would open a home to take care of such girls.

With their usual swiftness to come to the rescue the Salvation Army opened such a home. The Brigadier up in Chicago gave up his valued private secretary, a lovely young girl only twenty-four years old, to be at the head of this home. It may seem a pretty big undertaking for so young a girl, but these Salvation Army girls are brought up to be wonderfully wise and sweet beyond others, and if you could look into her beautiful eyes you would have an understanding of the consecration and strength of character that has made it possible for her to do this work with marvellous success, and reach the hearts and turn the lives of these many young girls who have come under her influence in this way. In her work she deals with the individual, always giving immediate relief for any need, always pointing the way straight and direct to a better life. The young girls are kept in the home for a week or more until some near relative can be sent for, or longer, until a home and work can be found for them. Every case is dealt with on its own merits; and many young girls have had their feet set upon the right road, and a new purpose in life given to them with new ideals, from the young Christian girl whom they easily love and trust.

So great has been the success of the Salvation Army hut and women’s hostel at Camp Lewis that the United States Government has asked the Salvation Army to put up a hundred thousand dollar hotel at that camp which is located twenty miles out of Tacoma. The Salvation Army hut at this place was recently inspected by Secretary of War Baker and Chief of Staff who highly complimented the Salvationists on the good work being done.

A Christmas box was sent by the Salvation Army to each soldier in every camp and hospital throughout the West. Each box contained an orange, an apple, two pounds of nuts, one pound of raisins, one pound of salted peanuts, one package of figs, two handkerchiefs in sealed packets, one book of stamps, a package of writing paper, a New Testament, and a Christmas letter from the Commissioner at Headquarters in Chicago.

No Officer in the Salvation Army has been more successful in ingenious efforts to further all activities connected with the work than Commissioner Estill in command of the Western forces. He is an indefatigable and tireless worker, is greatly beloved, and his efforts have met with exceptional success.

It was a new manager who had taken hold of the affairs of the Salvation Army Hostel in a certain city that morning and was establishing family prayers. A visitor, waiting to see someone, sat in an alcove listening.

There in the long beautiful living-room of the Hostel sat a little audience, two black women-the cooks-several women in neat aprons and caps as if they had come in from their work, a soldier who had been reading the morning paper and who quietly laid it aside when the Bible reading began, a sailor who tiptoed up the two low steps from the café beyond the living-room where he had been having his morning coffee and doughnuts—the young clerk from behind the office desk. They all sat quiet, respectful, as if accorded a sudden, unexpected privilege.

The reading was a few well-chosen verses about Moses in the mount of vision and somehow seemed to have a strange quieting influence and carried a weight of reality read thus in the beginning of a busy day’s work.

The reader closed the book and quite familiarly, not at all pompously, he said with a pleasant smile that this was a lesson for all of them. Each one should have his vision for the day. The cook should have a vision as she made the doughnuts—and he called her by her name—to make them just as well as they could be made; and the women who made the beds should have a vision of how they could make the beds smooth and soft and fine to rest weary comers; and those who cleaned must have a vision to make the house quite pure and sweet so that it would be a home for the boys who came there; the clerk at the desk should have a vision to make the boys comfortable and give them a welcome; and everyone should have a vision of how to do his work in the best way, so that all who came there for a day or a night or longer should have a vision when they left that God was ruling in that place and that everything was being done for His praise.

Just a few simple words bringing the little family of workers into touch with the Divine and giving them a glimpse of the great plan of laboring with God where no work is menial, and nothing too small to be worth doing for the love of Christ. Then the little company dropped upon their knees, and the earnest voice took up a prayer which was more an intimate word with a trusted beloved Companion; and they all arose to go about that work of theirs with new zest and—a vision!

In her alcove out of sight the visitor found refreshment for her own soul, and a vision also.

This is the secret of this wonderful work that these people do in France, in the cities, everywhere; they have a vision! They have been upon the Mountain with God and they have not forgotten the injunction:

“See that thou do all things according to the pattern given thee in the Mount”

But the stories multiply and my space is drawing to a close. I am minded to say reverently in words of old:

“And there are also many other things which these disciples of Jesus did, the which if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written;” but are they not graven in the hearts of men who found the Christ on the battlefield or the hospital cot, or in the dim candle-lit hut, through these dear followers of His?

XII. Letters of Appreciation

My Dear Miss Booth:

You may be sure that your telegram of November fifteenth warmed my heart and brought me very real cheer and encouragement. It is a message of just the sort that one needs in these trying times, and I hope that you will express to your associates my profound appreciation and my entire confidence in their loyalty, their patriotism, and their enthusiasm for the great work they are doing.

Cordially and sincerely yours, Woodrow Wilson. Nov. 30,1917.

My Dear Miss Booth:

I am very much interested to hear of the campaign the Salvation Army has undertaken for money to sustain its war activities, and want to take the opportunity to express my admiration for the work that it has done and my sincere hope that it may be fully sustained.

(Signed) Woodrow Wilson. The President of the United States of America.

Commander Evangeline Booth, Paris, 7 April, 1919. 122 W. 14th Street, New York, U.S.A.

I am very much interested to know that the Salvation Army is about to enter into a campaign for a sustaining fund.

I feel that the Salvation Army needs no commendation from me. The love and gratitude it has elicited from the troops is a sufficient evidence of the work it has done and I feel that I should not so much commend as congratulate it.

Cordially and sincerely yours, Woodrow Wilson.

British Delegation, Paris, 8th April, 1919.

Dear Madam:

I have very great pleasure in sending you this letter to say how highly I think of the great work which has been done by the Salvation Army amongst the Allied Armies in France and the other theatres of war. From all sides I hear the most glowing accounts of the way in which your people have added to the comfort and welfare of our soldiers. To me it has always been a great joy to think how much the sufferings and hardships endured by our troops in all parts of the world have been lessened by the self-sacrifice and devotion shown to them by that excellent organization, the Salvation Army.

Yours faithfully, W. Lloyd George.

General J. J. Pershing, France.

The Salvation Army of America will never cease to hail you with devoted affection and admiration for your valiant leadership of your valiant army. You have rushed the advent of the world’s greatest peace, and all men honor you. To God be all the glory!

Commander Evangeline Booth.

Commander Evangeline Booth, New York City.

“Many thanks for your cordial cable. The American Expeditionary Forces thank you for all your noble work that the Salvation Army has done for them from the beginning.”

General Pershing.

With deep feeling of gratitude for the enormous contribution which the Salvation Army has made to the moral and physical welfare of this expedition all ranks join me in sending heartiest Christmas greetings and cordial best wishes for the New Year.

(Signed) Pershing.

Salvation, New York. Paris, April 22, 1919.

The following cable received, Colonel William S. Barker, Director of the Salvation Army, Paris: My dear Colonel Barker—I wish to express to you my sincere appreciation, and that of all members of the American Expeditionary Forces, for the splendid services rendered by the Salvation Army to the American Army in France. You first submitted your plans to me in the summer of 1917, and before the end of that year you had a number of Huts in operation in the Training Area of the First Division, and a group of devoted men and women who laid the foundation for the affectionate regard in which the workers of your organization have always been held by the American soldiers. The outstanding features of the work of the Salvation Army have been its disposition to push its activities as far as possible to the Front, and the trained and experienced character of its workers whose one thought was the well-being of its soldiers they came to serve. While the maintenance of these standards has necessarily kept your work within narrow bounds as compared to some of the other welfare agencies, it has resulted in a degree of excellence and self-sacrifice in the work performed which has been second to none. It has endeared your organization and its individual men and women workers to all those Divisions and other units to which they have been attached and has published their good name to every part of the American Expeditionary forces. Please accept this letter as a personal message to each one of your workers. Very sincerely,

John J. Pershing.

Marshal Foch, Paris, France:

Your brilliant armies, under blessing of God, have triumphed. The Salvation Army of America exults with war-worn but invincible France. We must consolidate for God of Peace all the good your valor has secured. Commander Evangeline Booth.

Western Union cablegram

WESTERN UNION ANGLO-AMERICAN DIRECT UNITED STATES CABLEGRAM 34 Broadway N.Y. Received at 16 BROAD STREET, NEW YORK

193 F8 PZ FRANCE 31

EVANGELINE BOOTH COMMANDER SALVATION ARMY IN AMERICA NEW YORK

TRÈS TOUCHÉ DU SENTIMENT ÉLEVÉ QUI A INSPIRÉ VOTRE TÉLÉGRAMME JE VOUS ADRESSE AINSI QU’À VOS ADHÉRENTS MES SINCÈRES REMERCIEMENTS

MARECHAL FOCH

I am deeply touched by the high sentiment which inspired your cablegram, and I tender you and your adherents sincere thanks.

MARSHAL FOCH

Letter from Sir Douglas Haig

Just before leaving London on Thursday for his provincial campaigns, General Booth received the following letter from Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig. The generous tribute will be read with intense satisfaction by Salvationists the world over:

General Headquarters, British Armies in France. March 27, 1918.

I am glad to have the opportunity of congratulating the Salvation Army on the service which its representatives have rendered during the past year to the British Armies in France.

The Salvation Army workers have shown themselves to be of the right sort and I value their presence here as being one of the best influences on the moral and spiritual welfare of the troops at the bases. The inestimable value of these influences is realized when the morale of the troops is afterwards put to the test at the front.

The huts which the Salvation Army has staffed have besides been an addition to the comfort of the soldiers which has been greatly appreciated.

I shall be glad if you will convey the thanks of all ranks of the British Expeditionary Forces in France to the Salvation Army for its continued good work.

D. Haig, Field Marshal, Commanding British Armies in France.

The Following Message from Marshal Joffre:

Miss Evangeline Booth, Apr. 9, 1919. New York City.

“President Wilson has said that the work of the Salvation Army on the Franco-American front needs no praise in view of the magnificent results obtained and remains only to be admired and congratulated. I cannot do better than to use the same words which I am sure express the sentiments of all French soldiers. “J. Joffre.”

From Field Marshal Viscount French.

“Of all the organizations that have come into existence during the past fifty years none has done finer work or achieved better results in all parts of the Empire than the Salvation Army. In particular, its activities have been of the very greatest benefit to the soldiers in this war.”

June 16, 1918.

Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, writing from Oyster Bay, Long Island, under date of April 11, 1918, has the following to say to the War Work Executive of the Salvation Army:

“I was greatly interested in your letter quoting the letter from my son now with Pershing in France. His testimony as to the admirable work done by the Salvation Army agrees with all my own observations as to what the Salvation Army has done in war and in peace. You have had to enlarge enormously your program and readjust your work in order to meet the need of the vast number of soldiers and sailors serving our country overseas; and you must have funds to help you. I am informed that over 40,000 Salvationists are in the ranks of the Allied armies. I can myself bear testimony to the fact that you have a practical social service, combined with practical religion, that appeals to multitudes of men who are not reached by the regular churches; and I know that you were able to put your organization to work in France before the end of the first month of the World War. I am glad to learn that you do not duplicate or parallel the work done by any other organization, and that you are in constant touch with the War Work Councils of such organizations as the Y. M. C. A. and the Bed Cross. I happen to know that you are now maintaining and operating 168 huts behind the lines in France, together with 70 hostels, and that you have furnished 46 ambulances, manned and officered by Salvationists. I am particularly interested to learn that 6000 women are knitting under the direction of the Salvation Army, and with materials furnished by this organization here in America, in order to turn out garments and useful articles for the soldiers at the Front.

“Faithfully yours,

“(Signed) Theodore Roosevelt.”

April 21st, 1919.

Commander Evangeline Booth, 120 West 14th Street, New York, N. Y.

Dear Commander Booth:

I have known the Salvation Army from its beginning.

The mother of the Salvation Army was Mrs. Catherine Booth, and her common sense and Christian spirit laid the foundations; while her husband, General William Booth, in his impressive frame, fertility of ideas, and invincible spirit of evangelism always seemed to me as if he were closely related to St. Peter, the fisherman—the man of ideas and many questions, of the Lord’s family.

General William Booth was of a discipleship that kept him always on the “long, long trail” with a self-sacrificing spirit, but with a cheerfulness that heard the nightingales in the early mornings that awakened him to duty and service. He was never tired. The Salvation Army under the present leadership of your brother, Bramwell Booth, has “carried on” along the same roads, and with the same methods, as the great General who has passed into the Beyond.

The Salvation Army has been itself true to the spirit of its mighty originator during the present war. No work was too hard; no day was long enough; no duty too simple, no self-denial was too great.

Prom my personal knowledge, the Salvation Army workers were consecrated to their work. Just as the brave boys who carried the Flag, they were soldiers fighting a battle, to find comforts, and a song to put music into the hearts of the noble fellows that now lie sleeping on the ridges of the Marne, with their graves unmarked save with a cross.

The sleepless vigilance of the Salvation Army extended from their kitchens where they cooked for the boys, to the hospitals where they prayed with them to the last hour when life ended in a silence, the stillest of all slumbers.

The Armies of every country in which they labored have a record of their faithfulness and devotion which will be sealed in the hearts of the many thousands they helped in the days of the struggle for peace.

The question is, what can we do now to perpetuate the Salvation Army and its work, and my reply is, that there is nothing they ask or want that should be refused to them. They are worthy; they are competent; they can be trusted with responsibility; and their splendid leader seems to have almost a miraculous power for management in the work which her father committed to her so far as America is concerned.

Very sincerely yours,

(Signed) John Wanamaker.

Cardinal’s Residence, 408 Charles Street, Baltimore. April 16, 1919.

Hon. Charles S. Whitman, New York City.

Honorable and Dear Sir:

I have been asked by the local Commander of the Salvation Army to address a word to you as the National Chairman of the Campaign about to be launched in behalf of the above named organization. This I am happy to do, and for the reason that, along with my fellow American citizens, I rejoice in the splendid service which the Salvation Army rendered our Soldier and Sailor Boys during the war. Every returning trooper is a willing witness to the efficient and generous work of the Salvation Army both at the Front, and in the camps at home. I am also the more happy to commend this organization because it is free from sectarian bias. The man in need of help is the object of their effort, with never a question of his creed or color.

I trust, therefore, your efforts to raise $13,000,000 for the Salvation Army will meet with a hearty response from our generous American public.

Faithfully yours, James, Cardinal, Gibbons.

Commissioner Plenipotentiary of the United States of America.

Paris, April 7th, 1919.

My Dear Commander Booth:

Those of us who have been fortunate enough to see something of the work of the Salvation Army with the American troops have been made proud by the devotion and self-sacrifice of the workers connected with your organization.

I congratulate you and, through you, your associates, and I wish you the best of fortune in the continuance of your splendid work.

Very sincerely yours, L. M. House.

Commander Evangeline Booth, Salvation Army.

Evangeline Booth, Salvation Army Headquarters, New York.

I have seen the work of the Salvation Army in France and consider it very helpful and valuable. I trust you will be able to secure the means not only for its maintenance but for the enlargement of its scope. It is a good work and should be encouraged.

Leonard Wood. Camp Funston, Kansas.

Brigadier-General Duncan wrote to Colonel Barker the following letter:

December 7, 1917.

The Salvation Army in this its first experience with our troops has stepped very closely into the hearts of the men. Your huts have been open to them at all times. They have been cordially received in a homelike atmosphere and many needs provided in religious teachings. Your efforts have the honest support of our chaplains. I have talked with many of our soldiers who are warm in their praise and satisfaction in what is being done for them. For myself I feel that the Salvation Army has a real place for its activities with our Army in France and I offer you and your workers, men and women, good wishes and thanks for what you have done and are doing for our men.

G. B. Duncan, Brigadier-General.

The Salvation Army is doing a great work in France and every soldier bears testimony to the fact.

Omar Bundy, Major-General.

Headquarters First Division, American Expeditionary Forces.

France, September 15, 1918.

From: Chief of Staff.

To: Major L. Allison Coe, Salvation Army.

Subject: Service in Operation against St. Mihiel Salient.

1. The Division Commander desires me to express to you his appreciation of the particularly valuable service that the Salvation Army, through you and your assistants, has rendered the Division during the recent operation against the St. Mihiel salient.

2. You have furnished aid and comfort to the American soldier throughout the trying experiences of the last few days, and in accomplishing this worthy mission have spared yourself in nothing.

3. The Division Commander wishes me to thank you for the Division and for himself.

CK/T. Campbell King, Chief of Staff.

CABLEGRAM.

Paris, December 17,1917.

Commander Miss E, Booth, 120 W. 14th St., New York.

I am glad to be able to express my appreciation of the work done by the Salvation Army in the way of providing for the comfort and welfare of the Command. I think the efforts of the Salvation Army are admirable and deserving of appreciation and commendation, and I consider the effort is made without advertisement and that it reaches and is appreciated by those for whom it is most needed.

L. P. Murphy, Lieut.-Colonel of Cavalry.

CABLEGRAM.

Paris, December 17,1917.

Commander Miss E. Booth, 120 W. 14th Street, New York City.

I wish to express my most sincere appreciation of the work of your organization with my regiment. Your Officer has done everything that could be expected of any organization in carrying on his work with the soldiers of this command, and has surpassed any such expectations. He has assisted the soldiers in every way possible and has gained their hearty good will. He has also shown himself willing and anxious to carry out regulations and orders affecting his organization. As a matter of fact, all the officers and soldiers of this command are most enthusiastic about the help of the Salvation Army, and you can hear nothing but praise for its work. The work of your organization, both religious and material, has been wholesome and dignified, and I desire you to know that it is appreciated.

J. L. Hines, Colonel, Sixteenth Infantry.

In sending a contribution toward the expenses of the War Work, Colonel George B. McClellan wrote:

Treasurer, Salvation Army, July 24, 1918. 120 West 14th Street, New York City.

Dear Sir:

All the Officers I have talked with who have been in the trenches have enthusiastically praised the work the Salvation Army is doing at the front. They are agreed that for coolness under fire, cheerfulness under the most adverse conditions, kindness, helpfulness and real efficiency, your workers are unsurpassed.

Will you accept the enclosed check as my modest contribution to your War Fund, and believe me to be

Yours very truly, Geo. B. McClelland Lt.-Col. Ord. Dept., N. A.

CABLEGRAM.

Paris, December 17,1917.

Commander Miss B. Booth, 120 West 14th Street, New York City, N. Y.

I have carefully observed the work of the Salvation Army from their first arrival in Training Area First Division American Expeditionary Force to date. The work they have done for the enlisted men of the Division and the places of amusement and recreation that they have provided for them, are of the highest order. I unhesitatingly state that, in my opinion, the Salvation Army has done more for the enlisted men of the First Division than any other organization or society operating in France.

F. G. Lawton, Colonel, Infantry, National Army.

To Whom It May Concern:

The work of the Salvation Army as illustrated by the work of Major S. H. Atkins is duplicated by no one. He has been Chaplain and more besides. He has the confidence of officers and men. Major Atkins, as typifying the Salvation Army, has been forward at the very front with what is even more important than the rear area work.

Theodore Roosevelt.

The following letter was sent to Major Atkins of the Salvation Army:

Headquarters, 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry, France, December 26, 1917.

I wish to thank you for the great work you have been doing here among the men of this battalion. You have added greatly to the happiness and contentment of us all; giving, as you have, an opportunity for good, clean entertainment and pleasure.

In religious work you have done much. As you know, this regiment has no chaplain, and you have to a large extent taken the place of one here.

For myself, and on behalf of the officers stationed here, I wish to express my appreciation of the work that you have been doing here, and the hope that you can accompany the battalion wherever the fortune of war may lead us.

Wishing you a very happy and successful New Year, I am

Yours sincerely, (Signed) Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., Major (U.S.R.), 26th Infantry.

When Captain Archibald Roosevelt was lying wounded in Red Cross Hospital No. 1 he wrote the following letter to the same officer:

Red Cross Hospital No. 1.

July 10, 1918.

“You have, by your example, helped the men morally and physically. By your continued presence in the most dangerous and uncomfortable periods, you have made yourself the comrade and friend of every officer and man in our battalion. It is in this way that you have filled a position which the other charitable organizations had left vacant.

“Let me also mention that, perfect Democrat that you are, you have realized the necessity of discipline, and have helped make the discipline understood by these men and officers.

“If all the Salvation Army workers are like you, I sincerely hope to see the time when there is a Salvation Army officer with each battalion in the camp.”

Before leaving France for the United States, two Salvation Army lassies received the following letter:

I was very sorry to hear that you had been taken from this division, and desire to express my appreciation of the excellent assistance you have been to us.

In all of our “shows” you have been with us, and I wish that I knew of the many sufferers you have cheered and made more comfortable. They are many and, I am positive, will always have grateful thoughts of you.

I have seen you enduring hardships—going without food and sleep, working day and night, sometimes under fire, both shell and avion—and never have you been anything but cheerful and willing.

I thank you and your organization for all of this, and assure you of the respect and gratitude of the entire division.

J. I. Mabee, Colonel, Medical Corps, Division Surgeon.

CABLE.

January 17, 1918.

The Salvation Army, New York:

As Inspector General of the First Division I have inspected all the Salvation Army huts in this Division area and I am glad to inform you that your work here is a well-earned success. Your huts are warm, dry, light, and, I believe, much appreciated by all the men in this Division. To make these huts at all homelike under present conditions requires energy and ability. I know that the Salvation Army men in this Division have it and am very willing to so testify.

Conrad S. Babcock, Lieut.-Colonel, Inspector General, First Division.