Life, 1919-10-30 · page 20 of 36
Life — October 30, 1919 — page 20: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This sentimental narrative poem, illustrated with Western sketches, tells of Sergeant Luck, a beloved soldier who deserts during military operations (likely the Mexican-American War, given references to "Greaser affray" and General Pettigrew). Learning his wife is dying, Luck abandons his post to reach her in Monterey. The "mitigation" of the title refers to how even stern military authority—represented by General Pettigrew—recognizes the human tragedy. Though technically desertion, Luck's compassionate act is implicitly pardoned: Pettigrew allows him to say goodbye, then retroactively dates his leave from when he departed, converting desertion into authorized absence. The piece celebrates loyalty transcending duty—loyalty to love overriding loyalty to the Army. It's sentimental Americana valorizing personal relationships over rigid military protocol, presented as ultimately noble rather than criminal.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
gy BS le UN 0’ the sand an’ blaze o’ the sky, An’ me with my leg in a pinto’s flank, Ridin’ the ridge 0” the Rio's bank, When out 0 big clump of sage, hard by, Steps bunkie o’ mine for twenty years past— When youth was as hot as a furnace blast— Captain of Company I, MacRay. I spoke to him in a friendly way He gave me a grin As happy as An’ held out a hand to say, “Sergeant Luck has just got back from down to Monterey!” “Well! Who in th’ hell is Luck?” says T Mac up with an ornery oath an’ said, “Well, keep a civil tongue in your head, An’ I'll tell you the tale. My eye! Bobby Luck! Jupiter! Haven't you seen Fellows you worshiped because they was clean? Mimicked their speech-trick and aped their way? An’ manfully smiled when they troubled to say Kind truths that struck? Yeh? Well—that was Luck! An’ a weck ago last Saturday Sergeant Luck deserted, an’ ran off to Monterey! “ Answered at roll-call his bunkie, Dover. Give me a letter he said that he foun Lyin’ right close to his head on th First thing he saw when he woke and turned over. All that it said was: ‘ Bobby, ol’ pard, Baby is dead. An’ I'd die less hard Up to your heart in the old happy way. (Doctor said l'd scarcely live one more day!)° Poor Dover wallowed For words, and swallowed : And blurted out, ‘Captain MacRay! It's a hundred miles, an’ over, by the road, to Monterey 1? “My duty it was to do. So I went; Took the poor little note from the Sergeant's wife, Beggin’ to see him once more in life, An’ headed for General Pettigrew’s tent. Handed it over without a word. (Beatin’ of his heart an’ mine I heard!) Then Pettigrew gritted: ‘He went, to-day? And we in the thick of this Greaser affray? Well—take out your men And search for him, then. But, damn your soul, Donald MacRay, I'd advise you to stay clear the road that leads to Monterey!’ “ Pettigrew’s charger, The Devil, was gone. (Bob himself told me, he used all his wiles: But the poor brute gave out. An’ he shot him, ten miles This side o’ Monterey city, at dawn.) - He got there in time, to tell her good-bye: Hold her, an’ love her, an’ help her to die. Then—in less than three hours, while grief still held sway, He threw back his red head an’ started this w: We counted him dead. ' But Pettigrew said ‘Tell Sergeant Luck, Captain MacRay, That his leave of absence started when he struck—for Monte- rey!" “ An’ now, in th’ mornin’, at crack o' th’ dawn, There'll be nobody shot by the ol’ ‘dobe wall Every man-jack had tears ready to fall. But all the need for ‘em’s up-buckled an’ gone: Less’n it’s joy tears.” I rose in th’ path: An’ Mac rose beside me, as straight as a lath I gripped his hand hard as I mounted my horse. I wanted to speak, but it took all my force. An’ all I could s: As I turned me away, Was: “Tell Pettigrew he is an ol’ trump, MacRay! An’, Gad! I'm glad to hear—as how—Luck’s back— from Monterey! comicbooks.comy