Short stories, American; War stories, American; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
"At the head of the gangplank stood the toughest specimen of humanity
I have ever seen. He looked like a huge gorilla, and had a big,
crescent-shaped, livid scar running from his left ear under his chin
up to his right eye. Every time he spoke the edges of the scar grew
white. His nose was broken and he had huge, shaggy eyebrows. His hand
was resting on the rail of the ship. It looked like a ham, and inwardly
I figured out what would happen to me if that hamlike fist ever came
in contact with the point of my jaw. As we passed him he showered us
with a few complimentary remarks, such as 'Of all the lousy scum I have
seen, this bunch of lubbers is the worst, and this is what they give
me to take thirteen hundred horses over to Bordeaux.' Later on I found
this individual was the chief foreman of the horse gang.
"We were ordered aft and sat on the hatch. The fellow on my right was
a huge, blue-gummed negro. He was continually scratching himself. I
unconsciously eased away from him and bumped into the fellow sitting on
my left. After a good look at him I eased back again in the direction
of the negro. I don't think that he had taken a bath since escaping
from the cradle. Right then my uppermost thought was how I could duck
this trip to France. The general conversation among the horse gang was:
'When do we eat?'
"We must have sat there about twenty minutes when the second foreman
came aft. I took fifteen guesses at his nationality, and at last
came to the conclusion that he was a cross between a Chinaman and a
Mexican. He was thin, about six feet tall, and wore a huge sombrero.
His skin was tanned the color of leather. Every time he smiled I had
the impression that the next minute he would plant a stiletto in my
back. His name was Pinero. His introduction to us was very brief: 'Get
up off of that ---- ---- hatch and line up against the rail.' We did
as ordered. Then he commanded: 'All the niggers line up alongside of
the port rail.' I guess a lot of them did not know what he meant by
the 'port rail' because they looked very much bewildered. With an oath
he snapped out: 'You ---- ---- idiots! The port rail is that rail over
there. Come on! Move or I'll soon move you.' He looked well able to do
this and the niggers quickly shuffled over to the place designated. He
quickly divided us into squads of twelve men, then ordered: 'All of
you who are deserters from the Army and who have seen service in the
Cavalry, step to the front.' Four others besides myself stepped out.
The first man he came to he informed: 'You're a straw boss. Do you
know what a straw boss is?' This man meekly answered, 'No, sir.' With
another oath, the second foreman said: 'All right, you're not a straw
boss; fall back.' I got the cue immediately. My turn came next.
"'Do you know what a straw boss is?'
"I said: 'Sure.'
"He said: 'All right, you're a straw boss.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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