General "Black Jack" Pershing, commander of the AEF |
In 1937, The
Saturday Evening Post published a history that noted the magazines most popular poems:
Of the three poems most often asked for, two are
serious, Alfred Noyes’ “A Victory Dance” and Arthur Guiterman’s “Pershing at
the Front,” the latter printed in 1927. The third is Newman Levy’s burlesque of
Hamlet, printed on the humor page in 1923.*
Ironically, “Pershing at the Front,” though one of the American magazine's most-requested
poems, was not accurately remembered by the historian of The Saturday Evening Post — it is most certainly not a serious poem.
Pershing at the Front
The General came
in a new tin hat
To the shell-torn front where the war was at;
With a faithful Aide at his good right hand
He made his way toward No Man’s Land,
And a tough Top Sergeant there they found,
And a Captain, too, to show them round.
To the shell-torn front where the war was at;
With a faithful Aide at his good right hand
He made his way toward No Man’s Land,
And a tough Top Sergeant there they found,
And a Captain, too, to show them round.
Pershing in the Argonne, Photo National Archives and Records Administration |
Threading the
ditch, their heads bent low,
Toward the lines of the watchful foe
They came through the murk and the powder stench
Till the Sergeant whispered, “Third-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “Third-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “Third-line trench!”
And Pershing answered—not in French—
“Yes, I see it. Third-line trench.”
Toward the lines of the watchful foe
They came through the murk and the powder stench
Till the Sergeant whispered, “Third-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “Third-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “Third-line trench!”
And Pershing answered—not in French—
“Yes, I see it. Third-line trench.”
Again they
marched with wary tread,
Following on where the Sergeant led
Through the wet and the muck as well,
Till they came to another parallel.
They halted there in the mud and drench,
And the Sergeant whispered, “Second-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “Second-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “Second-line trench!”
And Pershing nodded: “Second-line trench!”
Following on where the Sergeant led
Through the wet and the muck as well,
Till they came to another parallel.
They halted there in the mud and drench,
And the Sergeant whispered, “Second-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “Second-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “Second-line trench!”
And Pershing nodded: “Second-line trench!”
Yet on they went
through mire like pitch
Till they came to a fine and spacious ditch
Well camouflaged from planes and Zeps
Where soldiers stood on firing steps
And a Major sat on a wooden bench;
And the Sergeant whispered, “First-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “First-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “First-line trench!”
And Pershing whispered, “Yes, I see.
How far off is the enemy?”
And the faithful Aide he asked, asked he,
“How far off is the enemy?”
And the Captain breathed in a softer key,
“How far off is the enemy?”
Till they came to a fine and spacious ditch
Well camouflaged from planes and Zeps
Where soldiers stood on firing steps
And a Major sat on a wooden bench;
And the Sergeant whispered, “First-line trench!”
And the Captain whispered, “First-line trench!”
And the Aide repeated, “First-line trench!”
And Pershing whispered, “Yes, I see.
How far off is the enemy?”
And the faithful Aide he asked, asked he,
“How far off is the enemy?”
And the Captain breathed in a softer key,
“How far off is the enemy?”
Wally Walgren, Stars and Stripes 15 Feb 1918, p. 7 |
The silence lay
in heaps and piles
And the Sergeant whispered, “Just three miles.”
And the Captain whispered, “Just three miles.”
And the Aide repeated, “Just three miles.”
“Just three miles!” the General swore,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
And the faithful Aide the message bore,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
And the Captain said in a gentle roar,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
“Whispering for?” the echo rolled;
And the Sergeant whispered, “I have a cold.”
And the Sergeant whispered, “Just three miles.”
And the Captain whispered, “Just three miles.”
And the Aide repeated, “Just three miles.”
“Just three miles!” the General swore,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
And the faithful Aide the message bore,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
And the Captain said in a gentle roar,
“What in the heck are we whispering for?”
“Whispering for?” the echo rolled;
And the Sergeant whispered, “I have a cold.”
—Arthur Guiterman**
The poem good-naturedly
lampoons military hierarchy and protocol. The lowest ranking soldier, the
whispering Sergeant, is the man who is most informed about the realities of war
in the front-line trenches. Yet when the commander of the American Army visits
the front, he is shielded from first-hand knowledge by his faithful Aide and a
respectable Captain, who take it upon themselves to translate and repeat
everything that the Sergeant says. While it may seem insignificant to the
others that the Sergeant has a head-cold, the health of this one man alters the
Generals’ – and the others’— understanding of the entire military situation.
Because they have not taken the time to learn of the lowly Sergeant’s
laryngitis, they interpret his whispers as signaling the close proximity of the
German lines. With its last line, the
poem mocks the isolation of those in command and their estrangement from the
men whom they order into battle.
Why was the poem
so popular? Perhaps because it uses humor to make a serious point. High school
history teacher Wilbur Kirwan was remembered by a former student as trying to
explain the paradox of life and war:
things
that seemingly contradict each other – such as humor and horror – can coexist,
which
is why as Memorial Day approached each year he [Kirwan] would recite Wilfrid
Owen’s haunting Dulce et Decorum Est, followed by Arthur Guiterman’s
hilarious Pershing at the Front.***
It’s a fascinating
pairing of poems, one that challenges the ways in which we often simplify and stereotype
past events and those who experienced them.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* A Short History of the Saturday Evening Post, Curtis Publishing Company, 1937, p. 27.
** Guiterman wrote and published over 4,000 verses in his lifetime and
co-founded the Poetry Society of America. Joyce Kilmer wrote several reviews of
his work, and in a 1916 article called Guiterman “The Most American of Poets” (The Independent, 20 Nov. 1916, pp.
312-313).
*** Gary E. Frank, “Education,
transformation, transcendence,” The
Colgate Scene, March 2003.
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ReplyDeleteMemorized the poem as a child in the early 1950s and recited it for the Union Square Senior Optimists club and won a little trophy which was engraved Third Prize Ontony Contest, don't know if there is such a thing as Ontony but there should be cause I got a prize for it. Probably the engraver had a poorly written copy to work from and he did not know what ONTONY was either (probably it was supposed to be ORATORY, but I don't care I am not running for office but I am now an ONTONIST!
ReplyDeleteThis has got to be one of my favorite comments ever. :) You go, ONTONIST!
DeleteOntony called into being via the trophy! Excellent.
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ReplyDeleteI learnt the poem 'STRICTLY GERM-PROOF' by Arthur Guiterman at the beginning of WW11. It seems to be just as relevant today with the Coronavirus outbreak.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful addition to the poem and comments: here is a link to "Strictly Germ-Proof": http://holyjoe.org/poetry/guiter2.htm
ReplyDeleteI watched someone read this poem on either Johnny Carson or Dick Cavett in 1970 or 71. Wrote as much as I could remember down. Still have it.
ReplyDeleteWhat a marvelous story!
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