Life, 1917-07-19 · page 13 of 40
Life — July 19, 1917 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct illustrations satirizing American military recruitment during what appears to be WWI era. **"An Exhibition Game"** (lower illustration): Shows a dead soldier on a pool/billiards table surrounded by well-dressed civilians and military officers. The morbid title suggests the war is being treated as entertainment or sport by the home front establishment—a bitter critique of how those profiting from or managing the war remain detached from its human cost. **"New Arrival"** (upper illustration): Depicts heavenly figures (appearing to be angels) greeting a newly deceased soldier, with a sarcastic caption about lacking "a little feather"—darkly joking about the inadequate compensation or recognition given to fallen soldiers. **"The Volunteer System"** (right): A lengthy list itemizing the various propaganda, coercion, and emotional manipulation tactics used to recruit soldiers—from manufactured patriotism to moral pressure—suggesting volunteerism was anything but voluntary.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“LIFE: it to the home of a friend who had visions of social suc- cess. But he did not seem to have much more than visions. as yet, so I thought the evening suit might help him along. He examined it closely. The light was dim, so he carried it to the window. “Looks pretty good to me,” he commented. “ What'll you take for it “Well,” I said, secretly elated at “ putting one over” so it cost me one hundred and fifty dollars when it was easily, new, but I need the money just now, so I will let you have it for thirty dollars.” It seemed so easy to be mean, and I reflected that while I was being mean I might as well be as mean as possible. I'll take it,” he said, quickly, on the spot. I tucked the check in my pocket, shook hands, to ease my conscience a bit, and went home to tell my wife of my good luck. nd wrote me out a check “Why, that’s queer,” she said. “Are you sure you sold in?” \ “Of course I am. Here's the check.” “But it only came back from the tailor’s this morning, where I sent it to be pressed.” “What do you mean?” I cried. But without waiting for her answer I went upstairs two at a time. There on S seams and all. The the bed lay my old dress suit, shiny New Arrival: put THEY'RE ALL SO MUCH ALIKE, HAVEN'T YOU SOMETHING WITH A LITTLE FEATHER? coat hanger in the closet was empty! My beautiful, new one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar dress clothes gone for thirty dollars! I sat down heavily on the bed. And right there I decided that the meanest thing I ever did was to try to The Volunteer System do a mean act. HE call. The burst of enthusiasm The recruiting offices The sobering second thoughts. The manufactured hate. The harangues. The embarrassing questions. The avoidance of the issue. The painful hesitation. The moral coercion The reluctant decisi The enlistment The vacant office. The empty factory. The deserted farm. The a The slackers at home. The lack of men The bounty. The bounty-jumper. The heart-burnings. The utter failure. The realization. The selective draft. The time lost | The men lost AN EXHIBITION GAME The treasure spent. comicbooks.com