Life, 1929-07-05 · page 9 of 41
Life — July 5, 1929 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a WWI-era short story about Private Kennedy, a decorated but twice-wounded soldier who becomes known as "Alice" for his poetry-writing. The narrative follows how his unit encouraged him to write sentimental verses—initially mocking efforts like "Happy Birthday" and "To a Sick Friend"—which gradually improved. The accompanying illustration depicts trench warfare, showing soldiers in combat. The story's humor derives from the contrast between a tough soldier and his unexpected literary talent, reflecting how WWI transformed American culture and soldiers' experiences. The piece celebrates how even hardened military men could develop artistic sensibilities, a theme common in post-war American literature examining how combat changed individuals.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Life Short Stories of Life Inspiration By John V. A. Weaver ENNEDY was a top-sergeant K during the war. He was twice wounded, and decorated for bravery. He drives a truck. The other evening, at our American Legion meeting, he joined a long dis- cussion concerning bravery. “I got some idears on that,” he said, and fished from his pocket-book a frayed newspaper clipping, dotted with rust-like spots, “See this? Wait till I get through—then you can read it. Them brown spots is blood. “It’s a pome signed by an ape, name Mosely. He was a private, in the dumbest squad in my company. What he knowed about soldierin’ to begin with was a single-O with the edges off, and what anybody could seem to teach him, you could write on a gnat’s eyebrow, and still have room for the Lord’s Prayer. “Everybody rode him somethin’ fierce. They called him Alice, be- cause he was so sweet, though big and strong. Every time we had rifle prac tice he would shut his eyes and moan, and when we had bayonet drill, he gives one look at ’em stickin’ the dummy, and goes on sick-call for two days. An the worst yet, they found out he tried to write po'try—and lousy po'try at that. “It seems the second draft yanked him out of some joint where they printed greetin’<ards—you know, ‘Happy Birthday, or ‘To a Sick Friend.’ He was clerkin’ in the busi- ness-end. But what he was hopin’ for, he'd get to writin’ ‘em, see? So he useta practice. “He was still practicin’ in the army for when the war would be over. Creepin’ away, scribblin’ till ‘lights out.” One night Fat Harper snitched some of his stuff. Boy, what a riot. The prize, it was one went somethin’ like ‘Mother 0° Mine, with your silver hair divine’—get the idear? “The company made a song out of it. They used to razz him, singin’ it. He didn’t seem to get very sore. Just hurt. Too much of a lily, that’s what everybody thought. “So then one day, when we was gettin’ ready to go up to the front, Fat Harper come runnin’ to me with a copy of the ‘Stars and Stripes.’ It had a pome in it. The pome was signed ‘Philip Mosely, pvt., 703rd_ In- fantry.’ “I took it to the Old Man. He went to college. He says it was a . very swell pome. I had Alice up front and center. He says: yes, he wrote it. I couldn't understand how he could do such a swell piece. Of course, it was sort of sweet and girly —but that’s the way Alice was, “Well, anyways, here’s what hap- pened to him. He begun to get high- hat. Wouldn't talk to nobody. And he commenced to be a lot better sol- dier. He was a changed guy. “Well, we went up to the front in about a week. Alice got killed, first crack out of the box. This is the way it was: “I ast for volunteers on a night pa- trol, and Alice says ‘mel!’ I couldn't believe it. ‘You!’ I says, ‘You for the Suicide Club?’ “ ‘Yes, mel’ he says, ‘I’m a_ poet! I'll show you skunks!” “So we run into some Heinies, and Alice got two of ‘em just as they had me down and was goin’ to finish me. Then another one stuck him through the stomach. So I crawls back. “But before I started, he manages to reach in his shirt pocket, and pulls out this clippin’. ‘I showed you,’ he says, handing it to me. Then he kicked in. (Continued on Page 32) “Alice got two of ‘em just as they had me down and was goin’ to finish me.” comicbooks.com