How splendid, how grandly noble, it must have been to see a regular army physician, wearing the official professional uniform marked “U. S.,” going, officially, at stated intervals, to the officially “segregated” houses of prostitution in Manila to officially examine the condition of professional prostitutes, and, having examined them, officially report them “unfit” (for whom?)—or “fit” (for whom?). How sublime! How patriotic! How lovingly Christian! Great flag-waving, constitutional government, performing a noble function nobly and, of course, constitutionally! All in the name of Christ, of course—for “This is a Christian nation”—officially. Life on board a war vessel is unnatural. So far as social and sex relations are concerned the men are virtually kept in solitary confinement for weeks, even months, at a time. _Under such profoundly unnatural conditions human beings behave unnaturally._ Many strong characters and all the weak ones collapse, utterly collapse; and the wild, ugly, worse than brute monster, _Perverted_ Sex Appetite, has a vile festival weeks at a time, enticing, embracing, befouling, devouring many of the finest youths in the land. It is said to be common knowledge with many who know and with many it is a source of horrible jest—that under such unnatural conditions on board a battleship men _sexually_ associate _with men_ in ways worse (if possible) than the most degrading ways mentioned (and cursed) in the Old Testament. And when, after weeks or months at sea, the warship touches at a port for a few days or weeks, there is a wild rush of unfortunate boys for unfortunate women whose diseased condition is an unspeakable abomination. And this should be known too: Certain Christian and un-Christian governments’ officials _provide the boys with certain preventive chemicals_ (_as they leave the ship for a “lark” on shore_), knowing that the boys, many of them, are _sure to be the victims of victims reeking with disease_. And then if the reader could witness the “round-up” the night before the ship sets out to sea again,—could see scores of fine young marines, pride of loving mothers,—if the reader could see them taken on board dead drunk and horribly befouled, taken on board in wheel barrows and dumped like big lumps of diseased, drunken, snoring and slobbering flesh, to be sobered up and “treated” when the ship gets out to sea,—if the reader could see all this and very much more, for example in New York harbor, he would then better understand why very few of “our very _best_ people” of the “upper class” are not easily wheedled into giving up their own sons to defend our great and glorious country on board a big steel fighting machine called a battleship—to cruise and carouse around the world. Just in proportion as the working class mother thinks about this matter her sons will be safer from the wheedling seductions of the recruiting officer.