DEATH AND GLORY

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 2 July 1927, Page 11

DEATH AND GLORY

ATTAR is a senseless thing at best, * even when men tear at each other’s throats under the spur of some lofty ideal. But when they drip blood at the behest of some purely mercenary political jefe, it is a tragic reminder that we have progressed little since the grim days of our elemental ancestors.

Nicaragua and her sister republics in Central America have been for generations synonymous with revolution to the average prosaic reader, writes Linton Wells, who is special correspondent in Nicaragua for the NieW -> York “ Herald-Tribune.” Pro eeeding along the even tenor of our respective ways we glance over the paper and grunt indefinitely at the news that another revolution is brewing and about to boil over in one of those Central American republics. The war in Nicaragua is even more senseless than usual. The average Latin mozo is a quiet soul with no particular care in the world beyond getting enougn to Keep him alive by working in the cane fields, the coffee or banana plantations, or in the mahogany or dvewood forests. For this privilege he earns barely sufficient to maintain alive the bodies and souls of himself and his family, but he is. touchingly thankful. Then some politicos decide that they have not been treated right by the •Ins. Perhaps the Ins have been in too long without giving the Outs a chance to loot the Government treasury. The result is a grand and glorious revolution, with the requisite number of causes and slogans for which to die. Abruptly our friend the mozo finds himself snatched from his easy pursuits. He is decked with a varicoloured hatband, carefully designed to appeal most potently to his psychology. He is armed with a rifle and ammunition. His machete he has already. It is part of his daily costume and important tyi domestic economv for everything from shaving to chopping wood. Why and for whom he is fighting tne mozo seldom learns until it is too late for it really to matter much. In anv event he is not deeply interested in’ such intellectual phases of the struggle. He has been conscripted by whichever side found him first. Conscrip-

IN NICARAGUAN REVOLT DYING FOR ONE SHILLING A DAY

tion is the accepted method of raising an annv in Latin America, whether to defend or to overthrow the Government. In cities, whenever troops need replacements of soldiers they simply surround those places of entertainment or chance most frequented by the hemen of. the locality and gather them in as they emerge. There arc three mobilisation classes of men —there are the shoeless and coatless, the uoatlcss and the fully dressed. The first comprises unfortunates, who are immediately inducted regardless. They might classify roughly as Class A. Absolutely no excuses are accepted from them. If more men are needed and Class B must be called out for the cause of liberty, the coatless are conscripted. The fully dressed are seldom annoyed except in an emergency. The average mozo therefore labours diligently (according to his lights), hopeful some day of acquiring a wardrobe. The unaccustomed collar may chafe his free-born neck. The illfitting" coat may cause him to swelter in the humid heat. His calloused feet may smart abominably in the tight shoes, although lie can wear them slung from liis belt when not in danger of molestation. All this ho endures uncomplainingly, however, for the time necessary to avoid recruiters. The mozo who has to work in the fields or for foreigners is not so fortunate. Unless he haunts the recesses of mountains or swamps in the hinterland there is no hope for him at all. And once conscripted he is marched away, no matter how much he may raise a querulous voice to high heaven in protest. His captors simply prod Lino with a convenient bayonet or pistol barrel, and on he goes. In due time he is safely lodged in the C-aurtel with a hunted, sorrowful look in his eves. ' Hours, perhaps days later, he is armed with a rifle and ammunition, about which lie knows nothing. Also lie is perhaps allowed to retain his own weapon, the machete, about which he knows everything. Then, in lieu of a< Federal oath or Other ceremony, he is provided with a blue and white or red and white hatband. These respectively indicate whether he belongs to the government or rebel forces. Once in possession of these inspiring symbols of military glory, he suffers an immediate change of heart and becomes a person of vivid enthusiasm. Occasionally he goes so far as to inquire the name of the individual for whom lie is to fight (never the reason), and he is given the name v o£ General So-and-so. . From that, moment, until lie is killed, wounded, or escapes he lives one continual round of lusty vivas, skirmishers and long' marches. Throughout. this military career he resembles strikingly a collie about to be bathed. Both do their utmost to escape capture. Both, ■once securely leashed, go reluctantly, but once in the water enjoy themselves thoroughly. .... Yes war in Latin America is just as absurdly ridiculous from the military standpoint as it is tragic. Very seldorn is a general killed; he rarely gets that, near a battle. The average officer is a parodv in words. The pay of a buck private is 25 cents a day. Sometimes he gets it; oftener he does not. Occasionally, should he distinguish himself, he is given 'a pair 'of shoes and a now suit. These usually accompany his brevet title of lieutenant.

Nicaraguan armies consist in about equal proportions of privates -and lieutenants. All instance of liovv this happened is to be found in the story of what happened after the battle of El Bluff, near Bluefields, several months ago. In this after the Conservatives had won a decisive victory over the Liberals, every private was promoted to a lieutenancy. There were at that time in the Conservative army engaged all of 150 privates. This affair also brought out a new crop of generals, who had been promoted from colonels on the field of battle.

Colonels run lieutenants a close second in the matter of numbers. Captains and majors are unknown, except in the National Guard, which is supposed to be a non-fighting organisation. The only difference between lieutenants and colonels is in the matter of dress and pay. The latter, of course, is an ephemeral quantity at best. Generals are by their numbers and their almost •unbelievable lack of ability. Wliv most of them are generals is a dark mystery. Few people in these armies display quasireasonable intelligence, Rarolv is even a rudimentary knowledge of military tactics appaVenij. Brills just pe ve>occur, so the officers are not compelku

to exercise their limited knowledge even in this direction. As far as strategy is concerned, . certainly no formulated plans are ever tested out. War simply means marching long hours up hill and down dale, the transporting of all sorts of weird impedimenta along dusty trails, and lighting the best one can whenever opportunity is presented. The weekly routine of a Nicaraguan soldier (with apologies to Solomon Grundy) may be described as follows:

Conscripted Monday. Armed Tuesday. Marched Wednesday. Fought Thursday. Wounded Friday. Died Saturday. Buried Sunday. Unfortunate indeed is the soldier who is wounded. There are no stretcher bearers to rush him back to a field hospital for first aid. If he is unable to carry on he has no choice but to crawl to one side and do the best he can to save himself. Meanwhile he keeps a speculative eye trained on the inevitable vultures which float lazily and hopefully above him in the brilliant blue sky. Should his side win there is, of course, some chance for him. Should the opposing Crusaders for the Bight come out on top there isn’t any chance at all. The odds are a hundred to one that if he is found at all, the enthusiastic brethren will perforin some highly artistic carving on various portions of his anatomy, sometimes for quite a while before death ends his misery.

As a deterrent to such melancholy eventualities the average soldier wisely provides himself with two college hatbands, one fos each side. It is a decidedly healthy safeguard, since any treatment of wounded soldiers is regarded as a tedious and expensive pastime by either side.

And that is the end of Pedrotamale. Such is the life of the men who are fighting nonsensical battles to solve inconsequential problems for the little politicos. It is a hard life and not worth while, even if they do manage to life through any given campaign. The odds are that they will be conscripted all over again to support or oppose some factional leader who is greedily wallowing through blood along his personally safe route toward the government trough.