South High School - Oriole Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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WINNING HIS STRIPES • at buSy ’ bustlm throng that hurried to and fro on Fifth Avenue hL -fTl k £ lty ’ a y° un f man ’ J ack Bradley by name, was walking briskly toward HornCompany 0 ” W S asslstant sales mana g e r of the “Clearout Auto of St ° kke sbor t an d found himself reading the sign in front He Join the Army — America Needs Yon. lanced around and saw that standing by the door of the recruiting- foil i ,-,-1-1 4- f O office was a tall, straight man in uniform. “Looks good enough,” he muttered to himself. Then with another glance at the sign he hurried on. But some unseen force seemed to be holding him back. He stopped and looked around. A very appealing look was on the face of the officer at the door. Nevertheless, Jack went on with a determined gait. Hardly another half square was passed when right under his nose was another sign — - Join the U. S. Navy — Help Your Country! , . , My, but (J id n t the Yankee sailor in the picture have an appealing look upon his heroic face . Jack began to feel that he was a slacker. “You are a slacker!” screamed a little voice in his brain. Reluctantly he walked on He entered the office building and stepped into the elevator. And all the time that little voice was hammering in his brain : “You’re a sneak! You’re a coward! You ' re a shirker and a slacker ' Hey everybody, this little pig stayed at home!” He looked around to make sure that no one was listening to the mysterious 12

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ODC

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WINNING HIS STRIPES voice. It worried him. lie heartily wished that he had not passed that sign. lie entered the office, hung- up his hat and spoke a polite good-morning to the stenographer. 1 le dropped into his desk chair and began to look ovei that huge, weary stack ot mail, — the first care of the day- Ah, there was Popular Mechanics , his favorite magazine. As he laid it aside his eye was captivated by the picture on the front. He picked it up and beheld, in bold colors, an aviator in his machine. It was Jack’s sole ambition. Like a bolt of lighting, an idea crossed his mind — “The Aviation Corps !” Lie leaped to his feet, grabbed his hat and dashed out the door — all in ten seconds, leaving the astonished stenographer to gape open-mouthed after him in amazement at his rude and unceremonious departure. Lie dashed down the street like a madman and disappeared into the door of the Navy recruiting station. “Do you take applications for the aviation corps!” he gasped. “Yes,” answered the officer in charge, “but why all the rush? Llere, Sergeant is a recruit for aviation. Sign here, sir; then follow the sergeant for examination.” Tack signed and then went with the sergeant into the next room. The conversation was something like this : “Excellent eyesight. Heart’s in good condition. Lungs all right. Dandy chest expansion. Best specimen we ' ve had in here for a good while. Wait here just a minute.” Jack sat down and the sergeant left the room. The next moment he heard behind him a loud crack of a pistol. Jack calmly looked around and there stood the sergeant, smoking revolver in hand, smiling. “Ha, I see you’re not easily excited. You’ll do. Report here to-morrow morning at eight.” .... . As Jack left the recruiting office, the little voice inside spoke again, but calmer and milder this time: “Now you’re a real man!” Five minutes later he entered the office. Hanging up his hat, he made a dash for the door marked “President and Manager. He opened the door, entered, and slammed it after him. Inside he grabbed his father by the arms, and pulling the old man from his chair, danced him about the office no less than seven times. “What th’, — Whassa matter, Sonny !” gasped the astonished parent. “Oh, Dad!” was all Jack could say. . . . , When Jack had gotten over his mania, the old man sank into Ins chair and mopped the beads of perspiration from his forehead. Apparently, by the way he took it, Mr. Bradley was used to this kind of treatment. “What’s hit you now, son ?” he said at last. Jack was thoroughly cooled down now, and was sitting on the edge of the desk. “Dad, I’ve joined the aviation corps.” “Glad to hear it, my boy, — congratulations!” Jack shook the extended hand warmly. 13