The wisdom and justice of our nation’s course was being disputed in those early days before sentiment for the War had crystallized, and the first reasons ever given some of the fighting men for our being at war with Germany were learned in a simple lesson like this in the moonlight schools: Why are we at war? To keep our country free. To keep other peoples free. To make the world safe to live in. To stop the rule of kings. To put an end to war. The purpose of the next lesson is obvious: See the flag! It is our flag! Our flag never knew defeat! Why did our flag never know defeat? Because our flag has always stood for right. Camp life with its crowds and complexities would need some introduction to them, especially the features which would immediately affect them. Each man would have an early interest in the orders of the day, posted up around the camp on bulletin boards, so this lesson referring to their duties was thought applicable. Let us read this. What is it? It is the bulletin board. What is it about? It tells when one is on detail. What is that? It is one’s duty for the day. Am I on duty today? Yes, you are on guard duty. Are you on? Yes, I am on kitchen police. Undoubtedly, there would be situations in camp requiring a sense of humor. A lesson which prepared them somewhat for the blunders and jests of their rookie days was this: Let us play a joke on a rookie. All right, what shall it be? Send him after a key. A key to what? A key to the parade ground. Would that be a joke? Can’t you see it? No, I cannot. Did you ever see a key to a field? No, I see. The joke is on me. On the hot summer evenings of July and August, 1917, Kentucky boys, subject to army service, wended their way to the moonlight schools. These men had a new and powerful incentive. Many of them had never known a week’s absence from home, and some had journeyed no farther away than the county seat, to return to their own roof-trees at night. They now faced separation from all who were dear, separation by a distance of three thousand miles, and in a situation of constant danger which would stir every emotion of the heart and demand some connection with the ones at home. Their extremity was great, and they realized it. This was evident by the numbers that came, the grim determination with which they attacked their books and their unconcealed joy over a simple lesson learned. Their teachers had a feeling of tenderness toward them and a desire to help them that amounted to exaltation equal to that, no doubt, felt by any who served and sacrificed during the War. Knowledge was never so glorified as it was those nights in the moonlight schools, when the soldiers clutched at it as hungry men for bread and the teachers bestowed it as manna with heavenly grace.