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      Funny Stories Told by the Soldiers / Pranks, Jokes and Laughable Affairs of Our Boys and Their Allies in the Great War

      PREFACE

      Now that the dread of awful war has passed with the coming of welcome peace, we can turn our minds with renewed cheerfulness to the merry side of the great world’s conflict and enjoy with our boys the funny things they saw and did and said while “over there.”

      The comedy side of the war has been quickly seen and readily interpreted by the world’s great writers, as well as by the very officers and men, in all departments of the service, who themselves participated in both the serious and the frivolous affairs of warfare as developed day by day.

      It is the humorous experiences of which these warriors and writers have told us in speech and print that we have sought to gather into one volume for the edification and delectation of a humor-loving public. Enough and too much has been told of the horrors of war. To hear the pleasanter side, the merry doings of our soldiers and their allies, the victorious hosts of freedom, is a welcome relief to war-weary hearts, freed now, and forever, from the dire dread of the awfulness of modern slaughter.

      So this collection of funny stories has come into being; its mission to cheer us all with the merry tales told by and about our conquering soldiers.

      SECRETARY BAKER TELLS A GOOD ONE

      “The neat and even elegant appearance of the American soldier isn’t maintained,” said War Secretary Baker in an address, “without hard work. Yes, the work is hard, but doesn’t the result more than justify it?

      “On the train the other day a private sat with his tunic unbuttoned, for the temperature was high. A sergeant strode up to him and said:

      “‘Button up that tunic! Did you never hear of by-law 217, subsection D? I’m Sergeant Jabez Winterbottom!’

      “A gentleman in the seat behind tapped the sergeant sternly on the shoulder.

      “‘How dare you issue orders with a pipe in your mouth?’ he asked. ‘Go home and read paragraph 174, section M, part IX. I am Major Eustace Carroll.’

      “Here a gentleman with a drooping white mustache interposed from the other side of the aisle:

      “‘If Major Carroll,’ he said coldly, ‘will consult by-law 31 of section K, he will learn that to reprimand a sergeant in the presence of a private is an offense not lightly to be overlooked.’”

      THEN HE GRABBED THE PAIL

      A woman, one of the 30,000 British working for the Y. M. C. A., was assigned to scrub the Eagle hut floor in London. She had done little manual labor in her life, but accepted the job without protest and went down on her knees with a pail of hot water, a cloth, and a cake of soap. Soon the water in the pail was black. A man in uniform passed. The woman looked up and asked if he would mind emptying the pail and refilling it with clean water.

      There was a pause, then his reply:

      “Dammit, madam, I’m an officer!”

      This time there was no pause, but like a flash the scrubwoman retorted:

      “Dammit, officer, I’m a duchess!”

      CALLING THE GENERAL DOWN

      When General O’Neill, of Allentown, first went to Spartanburg, S. C., his train was three hours late. The negro escort appointed to receive him at the station had been dismissed. The general walked. Presently he was accosted by a sentry.

      “Who is you?”

      “General O’Neill.”

      “Well, you cut the buck and go up there to headquarters to beat de debbil and see my captain and explain yosself. We’s been waitin’ three hours fer you.”

      DID SHE SAVE DOC ONE?

      In the field hospital:

      Doctor – Save me a sample of everything your patient takes.

      Nurse – He took a kiss this morning.

      WANTED TO KILL THE COOKS

      A young Canadian officer, who had lived for years in China, was deputed to take to France for service behind the lines a company of Chinese coolies. On the ocean voyage over, which was a turbulent one, a row developed between the coolies and the Cantonese cooks, and the coolies decided to kill the cooks. Hearing of it the Canadian called in several of the coolies and told them if they killed the cooks they would have nothing to eat until they reached France.

      “What’s the matter?” asked the Canadian of the coolie ringleader. “Isn’t the food good?” Yes, the food was good.

      “Isn’t there enough food?”

      Yes, there was plenty of food.

      “Isn’t it well cooked?”

      Yes, it was well cooked.

      “Well, then, what the devil is the matter? Why do you want to kill the cooks?”

      “Well,” replied the coolie, “we don’t know exactly why, but somehow or other the food won’t stay down.”

      YOU CAN’T BEAT THE IRISH

      An elderly Colonel, about to retire, was holding “officer hours” for the last time and four old offenders were brought in for punishment.

      The Colonel looked them over wearily, and then said:

      “I’ve been listening to the yarns and excuses you men have concocted for the past three years and I’m tired of them all. If any of you can think of something new, I’ll let you off without punishment. If you can’t, I’ll give you the limit.”

      “I took just one drink, and it made me ill, Colonel,” began the first.

      “Old stuff,” said the Colonel.

      The second offenders alarm-clock had failed to work, and the third offender had bad news from home. There was nothing new in this, and each was given the limit.

      However, the Colonel’s eyes brightened at the approach of the fourth culprit, an Irishman.

      “Be original, Duffy. Tell me something new,” urged the Colonel.

      “Well, Colonel,” Duffy began, with his eyes a-twinkle, “when Oi heard the sad news that you was goin’ to l’ave us, it made me so down-hearted that Oi wint to the nearest public house and drowned me sorrows.”

      “You win!” exploded the Colonel. “Now get out!”

      ASK SOMEONE FROM MISSOURI

      A long and patient but vain effort on the part of a khaki-clad driver to induce a mule, drawing what appeared to be a load of laundry, through the gateway of a local hospital, afforded considerable amusement to the doughboys who were watching the proceedings. The mule would do anything but pass through the gateway.

      “Want any ’elp, chum?” shouted one of the boys to the driver, as he rested a moment.

      “No,” replied the driver, “but I’d like to know how the devil Noah got two of these blighters into the Ark!”

      CLARK STREET ENGLISH

      American tourists who are shaky as to their French have often been embarrassed by the voluble replies which their carefully studied phrases bring forth from French lips. Just now the tables are frequently turned, and the Frenchman or woman is puzzled by the fluent American vernacular. An example:

      Yankee Trooper – “Parly-voo English, mademoiselle?”

      French Maid – “Yes, a vairl leetle.”

      Yankee Trooper – “Good work! Say, could you put me wise where I could line up against some good eats in this burg?”

      HIS MASTER’S VOICE

      Captain (sharply) – “Button up that coat.”

      Married Recruit (absently) – “Yes, my dear.”

      ELEGY WRITTEN IN A BELGIAN DOORYARD

      The Crown Prince mourns the passing

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