Chapter XII: Part 12

The work of the Salvation Army with the armed forces of the United States does not need any word of commendation from me. Perhaps I may be permitted to say, however, that as a representative of the War and Navy Departments I have been closely in touch with it from its inception, both in Europe and in the United States. I do not believe there is a doughboy anywhere who does not speak of it with enthusiasm and affection. Its remarkable success has been due solely to the unselfish spirit of service which has underlain it. Nothing has been too humble or too lowly for the Salvation Army representative to do for the soldier. Without ostentation, without advertising, without any emphasis upon auspices or organization, your people have met the men of the Army as friends and companions-in-arms, and the soldiers, particularly those of the American Expeditionary Force, will never forget what you have done.

Faithfully yours, (Signed) Raymond B. Fosdick.

From Honorable Arthur Stanley, Chairman British Red Cross Society.

British Red Cross Society Joint War Committee

83 Pall Mall, London, S. W.,

December 22, 1917.

General Bramwell Booth.

Dear General Booth:

I enclose formal receipt for the cheque, value £2000, which was handed to me by your representative. I note that it is a contribution from the Salvation Army to the Joint Funds to provide a new Salvation Army Motor Ambulance Unit on the same conditions as before.

I cannot sufficiently thank you and the Salvation Army for this very generous donation.

I am indeed glad to know that you are providing another twenty drivers for service with our Ambulance Fleet in France. This is most welcome news, as whenever Salvation Army men are helping we hear nothing but good reports of their work. Sir Ernest Clarke tells me that your Ambulance Sections are quite the best of any in our service, and the more Salvation Army men you can send him, the better he will be pleased. I would again take this opportunity of congratulating you, which I do with all my heart, upon the splendid record of your Army.

Yours sincerely,

(Signed) Arthur Stanley.

Extract from Judge Ben Lindsey’s picture of the Salvation Army at the Front:

“A good expression for American enthusiasm is: ’I am crazy about’—this, or that, or the other thing that excites our admiration. Well, ’I am crazy about the Salvation Army’—the Salvation Army as I saw it and mingled with it and the doughboys in the trenches. And when I happened to be passing through Chicago to-day and saw an appeal in the _Tribune_ for the Salvation Army, I remembered what our boys so often shouted out to me as I passed them in the trenches and back of the lines: ’Judge, when you get back home tell the folks not to forget the Salvation Army. They’re the real thing.’

“And I know they are the real thing. I have shared with the boys the doughnuts and chocolate and coffee that seemed to be so much better than any other doughnuts or coffee or chocolate I have ever tasted before. And when it seemed so wonderful to me after just a mild sort of experience down a shell-swept road, through the damp and cold of a French winter day, what must it be to those boys after trench raids or red-hot scraps down rain-soaked trenches under the wet mists of No Man’s Land?... Listen to some of the stories the boys told me: ’You see, Judge, the good old Salvation Army is the real thing. They don’t put on no airs. There ain’t no flub-dub about them and you don’t see their mugs in the fancy magazines much. Why, you never would see one of them in Paris around the hotels. You’d never know they existed, Judge, unless you came right up here to the front lines as near as the Colonel will let you!’

“And one enthusiastic urchin said: ’Why, Judge, after the battle yesterday, we couldn’t get those women out of the village till they’d seen every fellow had at least a dozen fried cakes and all the coffee or chocolate he could pile in. We just had to drag ’em out—for the boys love ’em too much to lose ’em—we weren’t going to take no chances—not much— for our Salvation ladies!’”

Harry Lauder’s Endorsement.

In speaking of the Salvation Army’s work before the Rotary Club of San Francisco, Harry Lauder said:

“There is no organization in Europe doing more for the troops than the Salvation Army, and the devotion of its officers has caused the Salvation Army to be revered by the soldiers.”

Mr. Otto Kahn, one of America’s most prominent bankers, upon his return to this country after a tour through the American lines in France, writes, among other things:

“I should particularly consider myself remiss if I did not refer with sincere admiration to the devoted, sympathetic, and most efficient work of the Salvation Army, which, though limited in its activities to a few sectors only, has won the warm and affectionate regard of those of our troops with whom it has been in contact.”

Mr. David Lawrence, special Washington correspondent of the _New York Evening Post_ and other influential papers, in an article in which he comments on the work of all the relief agencies, says of the Salvation Army in France:

“Curiously enough the Salvation Army is spoken of in all official reports as the organization most popular with the troops. Its organization is the smallest of all four. Its service is simple and unadorned. It specializes on doughnuts and pie, which it gives away free whenever the ingredients of the manufacture of those articles are at hand.

“_The policy of the organization_ is to place a worker and his wife, if possible, with a unit of troops. The woman makes doughnuts and sews on buttons, while the man helps the soldiers in any way he can.

“_The success of the Salvation Army_ is attributed by commanding officers to the fact that the workers know how to mix naturally. _In other cases there had been sometimes an air of condescension not unlike that of the professional settlement house worker_.”

In a recent issue of the _Saturday Evening Post_, Mr. Irvin Cobb, who has just returned from France, has this to say of the Salvation Army:

“Right here seems a good-enough place for me to slip in a few words of approbation for the work which another organization has accomplished in France since we put our men into the field. Nobody asked me to speak in its favor because, so far as I can find out, it has no publicity department. I am referring to the Salvation Army. May it live forever for the service which, without price and without any boasting on the part of its personnel, it is rendering to our boys in France!

“A good many of us who hadn’t enough religion, and a good many more of us who, mayhap, had too much religion, looked rather contemptuously upon the methods of the Salvationists. Some have gone so far as to intimate that the Salvation Army was vulgar in its methods and lacking in dignity and even in reverence. Some have intimated that converting a sinner to the tap of a bass drum or the tinkle of a tambourine was an improper process altogether. Never again, though, shall I hear the blare of the cornet as it cuts into the chorus of hallelujah whoops, where a ring of blue-bonneted women and blue-capped men stand exhorting on a city street-corner under the gaslights, without recalling what some of their enrolled brethren—and sisters—have done, and are doing, in Europe!

“The American Salvation Army in France is small, but, believe me, it is powerfully busy! Its war delegation came over without any fanfare of the trumpets of publicity. It has no paid press agents here and no impressive headquarters. There are no well-known names, other than the names of its executive heads, on its rosters or on its advisory boards. None of its members are housed at an expensive hotel and none of them have handsome automobiles in which to travel about from place to place. No campaigns to raise nation-wide millions of dollars for the cost of its ministrations overseas were ever held at home. I imagine it is the pennies of the poor that mainly fill its war chest. I imagine, too, that sometimes its finances are an uncertain quantity. Incidentally, I am assured that not one of its male workers here is of draft age unless he holds exemption papers to prove his physical unfitness for military service. The Salvationists are taking care to purge themselves of any suspicion that potential slackers have joined their ranks in order to avoid the possibility of having to perform duties in khaki.

“Among officers, as well as among enlisted men, one occasionally hears criticism—which may or may not be based on a fair judgment—for certain branches of certain activities of certain organizations. But I have yet to meet any soldier, whether a brigadier or a private, who, if he spoke at all of the Salvation Army, did not speak in terms of fervent gratitude for the aid that the Salvationists are rendering so unostentatiously and yet so very effectively. Let a sizable body of troops move from one station to another, and hard on its heels there came a squad of men and women of the Salvation Army. An army truck may bring them, or it may be they have a battered jitney to move them and their scanty outfits. Usually they do not ask for help from anyone in reaching their destinations. They find lodgment in a wrecked shell of a house or in the corner of a barn. By main force and awkwardness they set up their equipment, and very soon the word has spread among the troops that at such and such a place the Salvation Army is serving free hot drinks and free doughnuts and free pies. It specializes in doughnuts—the Salvation Army in the field does—the real old-fashioned home-made ones that taste of home to a homesick soldier boy!

“I did not see this, but one of my associates did. He saw it last winter in a dismal place on the Toul sector. A file of our troops were finishing a long hike through rain and snow over roads knee-deep in half-thawed icy slush. Cold and wet and miserable they came tramping into a cheerless, half-empty town within sound and range of the German guns. They found a reception committee awaiting them there—in the person of two Salvation Army lassies and a Salvation Army Captain. The women had a fire going in the dilapidated oven of a vanished villager’s kitchen. One of them was rolling out the batter on a plank, with an old wine-bottle for a rolling pin, and using the top of a tin can to cut the dough into circular strips; the other woman was cooking the doughnuts, and as fast as they were cooked the man served them out, spitting hot, to hungry, wet boys clamoring about the door, and nobody was asked to pay a cent!

“At the risk of giving mortal affront to ultradoctrinal practitioners of applied theology, I am firmly committed to the belief that by the grace and the grease of those doughnuts those three humble benefactors that day strengthened their right to a place in the Heavenly Kingdom.”

My Dear Colonel Jenkins:

I take pleasure in sending you a copy of my report as Commissioner to France, in which I made reference to the work of the Salvation Army with our American Expeditionary Forces.

I cannot recall ever hearing the slightest criticism of the work of the Salvation Army, but I heard many words of enthusiastic appreciation on the part not only of the Generals and officers but of the soldiers.

I saw many evidences showing that the unselfish, sometimes reckless, abandon of your workers had a great effect upon our men.

I am sure that the Salvation Army also stands in high respect for its religious influence upon the men.

It was pleasant still further to hear such words of appreciation as I did from General Duncan regarding the work of Chaplain Allan, the divisional chaplain of General Duncan’s unit. He has evidently risen to his work in a splendid way. It is a pleasure to have this opportunity of rendering this testimony to you.

Faithfully yours,

Charles S. MacFarland, General Secretary.

The _New York Globe_ printed the following:

Huns Don’t Stop Salvation Army. Meeting Held in Deep Dugout Under Ruined Village—Mandolin Supplants the Organ.

By Herbert Corey.

Just behind the Somme front, May 31.—Somewhere in the tangle of smashed walls there was a steely jingle. At first the sound was hard to identify, so odd are acoustics in this which was once a little town. There were stub ends of walls here and there—bare, raw snags of walls sticking up—and now and then a rooftree tilted pathetically against a ruin, or a pile of dusty masonry that had been a house. A little path ran through this tangle, and under an arched gateway that by a miracle remained standing and down the steps of a dugout. The jingling sound became recognizable. Some one was trying to play on a mandolin:

“Jesus, Lover of My Soul.”

It was grotesque and laughable. The grand old hymn refused its cadences to this instrument of a tune-loving bourgeoise. It seemed to stand aloof and unconquered. This is a hymn for the swelling notes of an organ or for the great harmonies of a choir. It was not made to be debased by association with this caterwauling wood and wire, this sounding board for barbershop chords, this accomplice of sick lovers leaning on village fences. Then there came a voice:

“By gollies, brother, you’re getting it! I actually believe you’re getting it, brother. We’ll have a swell meeting to-night.”

I went down the steps into the Salvation Army man’s dugout. A large soldier, cigarette depending from his lower lip, unshaven, tin hat tipped on the back of his head, was picking away at the wires of the mandolin with fingers that seemed as thick and yellow as ears of corn. As I came in he stated profanely, that these dam’ things were not made to pick out condemn’ hymn tunes on. The Salvation Army man encouraged him:

“You keep on, brother,” said he, “and we’ll have a fine meeting for the Brigadier when he comes in to-night.”

Taking His Chances.

Another boy was sitting there, his head rather low. The mandolin player indicated him with a jerk. “He got all roughed up last night,” said he. “We found a bottle of some sweet stuff these Frogs left in the house where we’re billeted. Tasted a good deal like syrup. But it sure put Bull out.”

Bull turned a pair of inflamed eyes on the musician.

“You keep on a-talkin’, and I’ll hang somep’n on your eye,” said Bull, hoarsely.

Then he replaced his head in his hands. The Salvation Army man laughed at the interlude and then returned to the player.

“See,” said he, “it goes like this——” He hummed the wonderful old hymn.

The floor of the dugout was covered with straw. The stairs which led to it were wide, so that at certain hours the sun shone in and dried out the walls. There were few slugs crawling slimily on the walls of the Salvation Army’s place. Rats were there, of course, and bugs of sorts, but few slugs. On the whole it was considered a good dugout, because of these things. The roof was not a strong one, it seemed to me. A 77-shell would go through it like a knife through cheese. I said so to the Salvation Army man.

“Aw, brother,” said he. “We’ve got to take our chances along with the rest.”

At the foot of the stairs was a table on which were the few things the Salvation Army man had to sell, up here under the guns. There were some figs and a handful of black licorice drops and a few nuts. Boys kept coming in and demanding cookies. Cookies there were none, but there was hope ahead. If the Brigadier managed to get in to-night with the fliv, there might be cookies.

No Money, But Good Cheer.

“Just our luck,” said some morose doughboy, “if a shell hit the fliv. It’s a hell of a road——”

“No shell has hit it yet, brother,” said the Salvation Army man, cheerily.

Fifteen dollars would have bought everything he had in stock. One could have carried away the whole stock in the pockets of an army overcoat. The Salvation Army has no money, you know. It is hard to buy supplies for canteens over here, unless a pocket filled with money is doing the buying. The Salvation Army must pick up its stuff where it can get it. Yesterday there had been sardines and shaving soap and tin watches. To-day there were only figs and licorice drops and nuts.

“But if the Brigadier gets in,” said the Salvation Army man, “there will be something sweet to eat. And we’ll have a little meeting of song and praise, brother—just to thank God for the chance he has given us to help.”

Here there is no one else to serve the boys. Other organizations have more money and more men, but for some reason they have not seen fit to come to this which was once a town. Shells fall into it from six directions all day and all night long. Now and then it is gassed. A few kilometres away is the German line. One reaches town over a road which is nightly torn to pieces by high explosives. No one comes here voluntarily, and no one stays willingly—except the Salvation Army man. He’s here for keeps.

Men come down into his little dugout to play checkers and dominoes and buy sweet things to eat. He is here to help them spiritually as well as physically and they know it, and yet they do not hear him. He talks to them just as they talk to each other, except that he does not swear and he does not tell stories that have too much of a tang. He never obtrudes his religion on them. Just once in a while—on the nights the Brigadier gets in—there is a little song and praise meeting. They thank God for the chance they have to help.

That night the Brigadier got in with his cookies and chocolates and his message that salvation is free. Perhaps a dozen men sat around uncomfortably in the little dugout and listened to him. The man of the mandolin had refused at the last moment. He said he would be dam’ if he could play a hymn tune on that thing. But the old hymn quavered cheerily out of the little dugout into the shell-torn night. The husky voices of the Brigadier and the Ensign and Holy Joe carried it on, while the little audience sat mute.

While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high.

Then there was a little prayer and a few straight, cordial words from the Brigadier and then, somewhere in that perilous night outside, “taps” sounded and the men were off to bed. They had no word of thanks as they shook hands on parting. They did not speak to each other as they picked their way along the path through the ruins. But when they reached the street some one said very profanely and very earnestly:

“I can lick any man’s son who says they ain’t all right.”

“I have just received your letter of the 30th of July, and it has cheered my heart to know you take an interest in a poor Belgian prisoner of war.

“Since I wrote to you last we have been changed to another camp; the one we are now in is quite a nice camp, with lots of flowers, and we are allowed more freedom, but it is very bad regarding food. We have so very little to eat, it is a pity we can’t eat flowers! We rise up hungry and go to bed hungry, and all day long we are trying to still the craving for food. So you will understand the longing there is in our hearts to once again be free—to be able to go to work and earn our daily bread! But the one great comfort that I find is since I learned to know Jesus as my Saviour and Friend I can better endure the trials and even rejoice that I am called to suffer for His sake, and while around me I see many who are in despair—some even cursing God for all the misery in which we are surrounded, some trying to be brave, some giving up altogether—yet to a number of us has come the Gospel message, brought by the Salvation Army, and I am so glad that I, for one, listened and surrendered my life to this Jesus! Now I have real peace, and He walks with me and gives me grace to conquer the evil.

“When I lived in Belgium I was very worldly and sinful—I lived for pleasure and drink and sin. I did not then know of One who said, ’Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.’ I did not know anything about living a Christian life, but now it is all changed and I am so thankful! Salvation Army officers visit us and bring words of cheer and blessing and comfort. You will be glad to know that I have applied to our Commissioner to become a Salvation Army officer when the war is over. I want to go to my poor little stricken country and tell my people of this wonderful Saviour that can save from all sin!

“On behalf of my comrades and myself, I want to thank the American nation for all they have done, and are still doing, for my people. May God bless you all for it, and may He grant that before long there will be peace on earth!

“I remain, faithfully yours,

“ Remy Meersman.”

The “Stars and Stripes” Speaks from France for The Salvation Army.

A copy of the “Stars and Stripes,” the official publication of the American Expeditionary Forces published in Prance by the American soldiers themselves, just received in Chicago, contains the following:

“Perhaps in the old days when war and your home town seemed as far apart as Paris, France, and Paris, Ill., you were a superior person who used to snicker when you passed a street corner where a small Salvation Army band was holding forth. Perhaps—Heaven forgive you—you even sneered a little when you heard the bespectacled sister in the poke-bonnet bang her tambourine and raise a shrill voice to the strains of ’Oh death, where is thy sting-a-ling.’ Probably—unless you yourself had known the bitterness of one who finds himself alone, hungry and homeless in a big city—you did not know much about the Salvation Army.

Well, we are all homeless over here and every American soldier will take back with him a new affection and a new respect for the Salvation Army. Many will carry with them the memories of a cheering word and a friendly cruller received in one of the huts nearest of all to the trenches. There the old slogan of ‘Soup and Salvation’ has given way to ‘Pies and Piety.’ It might be ‘Doughnuts and Doughboys.’ These huts pitched within the shock of the German guns, are ramshackle and bare and few, for no organization can grow rich on the pennies and nickels that are tossed into the tambourines at the street-corners of the world. But they are doing a work that the soldiers themselves will never forget, and it is an especial pleasure to say so here, because the Salvation Army, being much too simple and old-fashioned to know the uses of advertisement, have never asked us to. You, however, can testify for them. Perhaps you do in your letters home. And surely when you are back there and you pass once more a ‘meeting’ at the curb, you will not snicker. You will tarry awhile—and take off your hat.”

We have received a letter from Mr. Lewis Strauss, Secretary to Mr. Herbert Hoover, who has just returned from France, and he says that Mr. Hoover’s time while in Europe was spent almost wholly in London and Paris, and that he had no opportunity for observing our War Relief Work at the front. The concluding paragraph of the letter, however, is as follows:

“Mr. Hoover has frequently heard the most complimentary reports of the invaluable work which your organization is performing in invariably the most perilous localities, and he is filled with admiration for those who are conducting it at the front.”

The Chicago Tribune (May 17, 1918), Quoting from the Above, also Speaks Editorially.

The acid test of any service done for our soldiers in France is the value the men themselves place upon it. No matter how excellent our intentions, we cannot be satisfied with the result if the soldiers are not satisfied. Without suggesting any invidious distinctions among organizations that are working at the front, it is nevertheless a pleasure to record that the Salvation Army stands very high in the regard of American soldiers.

The evidence of the Salvation Army’s excellent work comes from many sources.

Appendix.

A Few Facts about the Salvation Army

It has been truly said that within four days after the German Army entered Belgium, another Army entered also—the Salvation Army! One came to destroy, the other to relieve distress and minister to the wounded and dying.

The British Salvation Army furnished a number of Red Cross Ambulances, manned by Salvationists when the Red Cross was in great need of such. When these arrived in France and people first saw the big cars with the “Salvation Army” label it attracted a good deal of attention. The drivers wore the Red Cross uniform, and were under its military rules, but wore on their caps the red band with the words, “Salvation Army.”

There is a story of a young officer in sportive mood who left a group of his companions and stepped out into the street to stop one of these ambulances:

“Hello! Salvation Army!” he cried. “Are you taking those men to heaven?”

Amid the derisive laughter of the officers on the sidewalk the Salvationist replied pleasantly:

“I cannot say I am taking them to heaven, but I certainly am taking them away from the other place.”

One of the good British Salvationists wrote of meeting our American boys in England. He said:

“Oh, these American soldiers! One meets them in twos and threes, all over the city, everlastingly asking questions, by word of mouth and by wide-open trustful eyes, and they make a bee-line for the Salvation Army uniform on sight. I passed a company of them on the march across London, from one railroad station to another, the other, day. They were obviously interested in the sights of the city streets as they passed through at noon, but as they drew nearer one of the boys caught sight of the red band around my cap among the hate crowning the sidewalk crowd. My! but that one man’s interest swept over the hundred odd men! Like the flame of a prairie fire, it went with a zip! They all knew at once! They had no eyes for the crowd any more; they did not stare at the façade of the railway terminus which they were passing; they saw nothing of the famous ‘London Stone’ set in the wall behind its grid on their right hand. What they saw was a Salvation Army man in all his familiar war-paint, and it was a sight for sore eyes! Here was something they could understand! This was an American institution, a tried, proved and necessary part of the life of any community. All this and much more those wide-open eyes told me. It was as good to them as if I was stuck all over with stars and stripes. I belonged—that’s it—belonged to them, and so they took off the veil and showed their hearts and smiled their good glad greeting.

“So I smiled and that first file of four beamed seraphic. Two at least were of Scandinavian stock, but how should that make any difference? Again and again I noticed their counterpart in the column which followed.... It was all the same; file upon file those faces spread out in eager particular greeting; those eyes, one and all, sought mine expecting the smile I so gladly gave. And then when the last was past and I gazed upon their swaying forms from the rear I wondered why my eyes were moist and something had gone wrong with my swallowing apparatus. Great boys! Bonny boys!”

The Salvation Army was founded July 5, 1865, as a Christian Mission in East London by the Reverend William Booth, and its first Headquarters opened in Whitechapel Road, London. Three years later work was begun in Scotland.

In 1877 the name of the Christian Mission was altered to the Salvation Army, and the Reverend William Booth assumed the title of General.

December 29, 1879, the first number of the official organ, “The War Cry,” was issued and the first brass band formed at Consett.

In 1880 the first Training School was opened at Hackney, London, and the first contingent of the Salvation Army officers landed in the United States. The next year the Salvation Army entered Australia, and was extended to France. 1882 saw Switzerland, Sweden, India and Canada receiving their first contingent of Salvation Army officers. A London Orphan Asylum was acquired and converted into Congress Hall, which, with its large Auditorium, with a seating capacity of five thousand, still remains the Mammoth International Training School for Salvation Army officers, for missionary and home fields all over the world. The first Prison-Gate Home was opened in London in this same year.

The Army commenced in South Africa, New Zealand and Iceland in 1883.

In 1886 work was begun in Germany and the late General visited France, the United States and Canada. The First International Congress was held in London in that year.

The British Slum work was inaugurated in 1887, and Officers sent to Italy, Holland, Denmark, Zululand, and among the Kaffirs and Hottentots. The next year the Army extended to Norway, Argentine Republic, Finland and Belgium, and the next ten years saw work extended in succession to Uruguay, West Indies, Java, Japan, British Guiana, Panama and Korea, and work commenced among the Lepers.

The growing confidence of the great of the earth was manifested by the honors that were conferred upon General Booth from time to time. In 1898 he opened the American Senate with prayer. In 1904 King Edward received him at Buckingham Palace, the freedom of the City of London and the City of Kirkcaldy were conferred upon him, as well as the degree of D. C. L. by Oxford, during 1905. The Kings of Denmark, Norway, the Queen of Sweden, and the Emperor of Japan were among those who received him in private audience.

On August 20, 1912, General William Booth laid down his sword.

He lay in state in Congress Hall, London, where the number of visitors who looked upon his remains ran into the hundreds of thousands.

His son, William Bramwell Booth, the Chief of the Staff, by the appointment of the late General, succeeded to the office and came to the position with a wealth of affection and confidence on the part of the people of the nations such as few men know.

Salvation Army War Activities.

77 Motor ambulances manned by Salvationists.

87 Hotels for use of Soldiers and Sailors.

107 Buildings in United States placed at disposal of Government for war relief purposes.

199 Huts at Soldiers’ Camps used for religious and social gatherings and for dispensing comfort to Soldiers and Sailors.

300 Rest-rooms equipped with papers, magazines, books, _etc_., in charge of Salvation Army Officers.

1507 Salvation Army officers devote their entire time to religious and social work among Soldiers and Sailors.

15,000 Beds in hotels close to railway stations and landing points at seaport cities for protection of Soldiers and Sailors going to and from the Front.

80,000 Salvation Army officers fighting with Allied Armies.

100,000 Parcels of food and clothing distributed among Soldiers and Sailors.

100,000 Wounded Soldiers taken from battlefields in Salvation Army ambulances.

300,000 Soldiers and Sailors daily attend Salvation Army buildings.

$2,000,000 Already spent in war activities.

45 Chaplains serving under Government appointment.

40 Camps, Forts and Navy Yards at which Salvation Army services are conducted or which are visited by Salvation Army officers.

2184 War Widows assisted (legal and other aid, and visited).

2404 Soldiers’ wives cared for (including medical help).

442 War children under our care.

3378 Soldiers’ remittances forwarded (without charge).

$196,081.05 Amount remitted.

600 Parcels supplied Prisoners of War.

1300 Cables sent for Soldiers.

275 Officers detailed to assist Soldiers’ wives and relatives; number assisted, 275.

40 Military hospitals visited.

360 Persons visiting hospitals.

147 Boats met.

324,052 Men on board,

35,845 Telegrams sent.

24 Salvationists detailed for this work.

20 Salvationists detailed for this work outside of New York City.

Salvation Army Work in United States of America.

1218 Buildings in use at present.

2953 Missing friends found.

6125 Tons of ice distributed.

12,000 Officers and non-commissioned officers actively employed.

11,650 Accommodations in institutions.

68,000 Children cared for in Rescue Homes and Slum Settlements.

22,161 Women and girls cared for in Rescue Homes.

30,401 Tons of coal distributed.

175,764 Men cared for in Industrial Homes.

342,639 Poor families visited.

399,418 Outings given poor people.

668,250 Converted to Christian life.

984,426 Jobs found for unemployed poor.

1,535,840 Hours spent in active service in slum districts.

6,900,995 Poor people given temporary relief.

40,522,990 Nights’ shelter and beds given to needy poor.

52,674,308 Meals supplied to needy poor. Constituency reached with appeal for Christian citizenship.

132,608,087 Out-door meeting attendance.

134,412,564 In-door meeting attendance.

National War Board.

Commander Evangeline C. Booth, President.

East. Peart, Col. William, Chairman. Reinhardsen, Col. Gustave S., Sec’y and Treas. Damon, Col. Alexander M., Parker, Col. Edward J., Jenkins, Lt.-Col. Walter F., Stanyon, Lt.-Col. Thomas, Welte, Brigadier Charles

West Estill, Commissioner Thos., Chairman Gauntlett, Col. Sidney, Brewer, Lt.-Col. Arthur T., Eynn, Lt.-Col. John T., Dart, Brigadier Wm. J., Sec’y.

France. Barker, Lt.-Col. William S., Director of War Work.

As indicated in the above list, the National War Board functions in two distinct territories—East and West—the duty of each being to administer all War Work in the respective territories. The closest supervision is given by each War Board over all expenditure of money and no scheme is sanctioned until the judgment of the Board is carried concerning the usefulness of the project and the sound financial proposals associated therewith. After any plan is initiated, the Board is still responsible for the supervision of the work, and for the Eastern department Colonel Edward J. Parker is the Board’s representative in all such matters and Lieut-Colonel Arthur T. Brewer fills a similar office in the Western department. Each section of the National Board takes responsibility in connection with the overseas work, under the presidency of Commander Evangeline C. Booth for the raising, equipping and sending of thoroughly suitable people in proper proportion. Joint councils are occasionally necessary, when it is customary for proper representatives of each section of the Board to meet together.

The National Board is greatly strengthened through the adding to its special councils all of the Provincial Officers of the country.