two drums were scraped together, and in half an hour
we had a little orchestra playing such contagious ragtime that every
one was jigging and beating time and cutting all sorts of capers.
These boys went simply wild over the first music they had heard in
months. The orchestra with the aid of a toothless old piano did
wonders. There is lots of talent buried in khaki! The snare drum
rolled finely, and another snare drum with the membrane loosened
played the part of a rather pudgy, indecisive bass drum. It didn't
matter! One boy made an ingenious whistle out of his mess kit, and
trilled and whistled, generally playing the part of piccolo, giving
life to the orchestra. The rehearsal, if it didn't put the finishing
touches on our performance, at least was jolly good fun and filled us
with invincible self-confidence for the evening. I had arranged a
Valentine tableau for the end, and Mme. Gloriod at home had pinned
hundreds of paper flowers on my gray steamer rug in the form of a huge
heart. I had even written a sentimental poem which I was to read
aloud, and on the whole it was to be a very pretty valentine, when
suddenly, about six o'clock came the news that a Y.M.C.A. moving
picture show had come to town and would have the mess hall that
evening. Our show was off. I was disappointed, especially since the
movie machine broke down in the middle of the performance and couldn't
be fixed. However, we decided to give our show on the following
Monday. And we did. And a ripping good show it was! It went off with
snap and the audience was gratifyingly appreciative. Imagine the long,
narrow mess hall with its dirt floor, board tables and benches,
crowded and packed with soldiers. The light was dim and the air thick
with tobacco smoke. At one end is the rough board stage with army
blankets pinned up for curtains. Below the stage was the orchestra,
all alert for its first performance, and back of the curtains were we,
the actors, packed in pretty tight, amid all the excitement and bustle
and fun of the moment before the curtain rises. There was I, alone,
among all those great rough men! Yet I don't know why I should call
them rough. More sweet consideration was never shown any one than was
shown me that evening. My overshoes were taken off; a chair was placed
for me in the "wings"; as soon as I finished my part my coat was put
on and buttoned up for me; and in a thousand little ways these boys
took care of me. I did two dances for the