The first registration for army service was for men from 21 to 31 years of age, and took place on June 5, 1917. The Kentucky Illiteracy Commission immediately turned its attention to illiterate soldiers and concentrated its energies on helping to win the War. In three weeks’ time the names and addresses had been secured of all those in the various counties who had registered by mark. The moonlight schools were not scheduled to open until late in August, but a special session was opened for these illiterate soldiers that they might learn to read and write before they were sent to camp. This call was sent out to the teachers through the press of the State: TO THE TEACHERS OF KENTUCKY: An unusual situation confronts those engaged in teaching in this State. It is one which will put to the test your patriotism and your devotion to education, as well. 30,000 young men in Kentucky signed their registration cards on June 5th by mark, being unable to sign their names. These are not confined to any locality, but are scattered throughout every county in the State. They are not colored, but mainly white. These figures must stagger every thoughtful Kentuckian. They would shame us to the point of concealment, but for the need of these young men for immediate relief. Concealment works no cure. Only prompt and decisive action can do that. These young men are not to blame for their misfortune. The enlightened citizens of Kentucky, who have tolerated lax compulsory attendance laws, and have submitted to the non-enforcement of such school attendance laws as are on our statute books, are mostly to blame. But there is no time to waste in crying “shame” or in fixing the blame. This is a time to atone in such measure as we may. It is unfair that these young men should be torn from their homes and dear ones and sent across the water to fight your battles and mine without being able to read a letter or to write a line back home. Next to actual engagement in battle, the most momentous event in the life of a soldier is the arrival of a letter from home. To his anxious mother a letter from her soldier boy is a comfort above price. No third person, however willing, can convey the sentiments and secrets of these two to each other. The Y. M. C. A. provides an abundance of reading and writing material, but these boys can only gaze upon it hungrily as a thing they crave to use, but cannot. Such printed reminders, posted about the Y. M. C. A. camp, as “Write home,” “Have you written to mother today?” are unintelligible to them. A Committee hands to each boy a pocket testament as he passes through the port of New York to embark for the war zone. 30,000 Kentucky boys can get no comfort from the Bible, even when it is given to them.