have been away from their families four or five years, of whom so many are married, who suffered tremendous casualties, whose equipment and food the doughboy would scorn? They feel that they have done their work and they want to go home.
Two shiploads of Czechoslovak invalids have already sailed for Bohemia from the harbor of Vladivostok by way of Suez. One hundred invalids have arrived in San Francisco on May 27, and it is now announced that the American government will take charge of the transportation home of the entire Czechoslovak force which still numbers about 55,000. At home the boys are expected with much impatience, and nothing will be too good for them, when they get there; for the nation realizes that it was their appearance in Siberia at the right moment which induced the Allied governments to extend full recognition to the Czechoslovaks.
A year ago the Czechoslovaks were lauded as heroes. Today those that praised them have forgotten them, but on the other hand the American sympathizers of the Bolsheviks take every opportunity to knock the men who gave the first serious blow to Lenine and Trotzky. Radical papers call the Czechoslovaks scabs because they were supposed to fight a proletarian government in the interest of imperialism, and place on their shoulders the blame for any unfortunate occurences in Siberia, such as the notorious refugee trains. And so one welcomes with special joy an article, like the story of the American soldiers in Siberia by Kenneth L. Roberts in the Saturday Evening Post of May 17.
Speaking of the policy of non-interference which was imposed on the American expedition after its arrival in Siberia the author mentions the problem faced by American officers with reference to Turkish prisoners. They were worked at first under American guards, until somebody remembered that the United States was not at war with Turkey. They were then turned over to the Czechoslovaks.
“The Czechs were the goats of Siberia, if I may be permitted the expression. When one of the Allies wanted something done which it dared not or could not do itself, it allowed the Czechs to do it—made them the goats, as the saying goes. The Czechs, being in Siberia for the sole purpose of fighting any person or persons who were against their principles, ideals and aims, had none of the qualms that affected larger and more cautions nations. The Czechs were as qualmless as it is possible for any one to be and still be a desirable member of the community. Were the Czechs at war with the Turks? Really, they couldn’t say. But the Turks were with the Germans, weren’t they? Yes. Well, then there was no room for argument. “Just hand over your Turks. We’ll put them to work, dang’em; and if one of them tries to get away—” (business of killing a Turk with neatness and dispatch).
“Sometimes the Intelligence Section of one of the Allies would unearth a particularly virulent Bolshevik or German. Being handicapped by the non-interference shibboleth an Intelligence officer would surreptitiously acquaint Czech headquarters with the facts in the case. And the Czechs, recking not a whit whom they interfered with so long as they interfered for the general good, would promptly go out on the trail and make things unpleasant for some one. The Czechs are good people—honest, intelligent, courteous, brave, clean, and what the British call top-hole scrappers—the salt of the earth.”
Mr. Roberts goes on to speak of saluting, as practised by Americans toward Allied officers and by Allies toward American officers.
“The Czechs, when we first arrived for the purpose—as we and they believed—of helping them to fight the Bolsheviks, could not show their appreciation and esteem of the Americans to a sufficient degree. They saluted American officers as punctiliously as our own men saluted them. They saluted so snappily and energetically that every one within a radius of thirty yards knew what was happening. They clicked their heels together until the sparks flew, stared straight at the recipient with an affectionate smile, and kept their hands at their cap brims until the salute had been returned. At the beginning it was not at all unusual for Czech enlisted men to salute every uniformed American they met—enlisted men, non-commisioned officers and commissioned officers. We were their brothers in arms; they could not do the uniform too much honor.
“But as time went on and American fighting forces failed to go to the assistance of the Czechs in spite of their repeated appeals for just one company to bolster up the
