The New Era and Carry On
The Commandant of the Marine Hospital was at his desk, working
hard, when the door of the room was flung open and the Officer of
the Day rushed in.
"Sir," he exploded, "the New Era has come."
"Very likely, Mr. Corker," answered the Commandant. "It has been
coming continually since the world began. But is that any reason
why you should enter without knocking, and with your coat covered
with bread-crumbs and cigarette-ashes?"
So the Officer of the Day went outside, brushed his coat, knocked
at the door, and awaited orders.
"Mr. Corker," said the Commandant, "have the kindness to bring me
your report on the condition of yesterday's cases, and let me know
what operations are indicated for to-day. Good morning. Orderly,
my compliments to the Executive Officer, and I wish to see him at
once."
When the Executive Officer arrived, he began:
"Sir, the New Era--"
"Quite so, Mr. Greel, but you understand this Hospital has to
carry on as required in any kind of an era. How many patients did
we receive yesterday? Good. Have we enough bedding and provisions?
Bad. Attend to it immediately, and let me know the result of your
efforts to remedy a situation which should never have arisen. The
Navy cannot be run on hot air."
As the Executive Officer went out he held the door open for the Head
Nurse to pass in. She was a fine, upstanding creature, tremulous
with emotion.
"Oh, Doctor," she cried, "I simply must tell you about the New Era.
Woman Suffrage is going to save the world."
"I hope so, Miss Dooby, it certainly needs saving. Meantime how
are things in the pneumonia ward?"
"Two deaths last night, sir, three new cases this morning. Oxygen
is running short: no beef-tea or milk. Five of my nurses have gone
to attend conventions of woman--"
"Slackers," interrupted the Commandant. "Put them on report for
leaving the ship without permission. I shall attend to their cases.
Fill their places from the volunteer list. Be so good as to send
the head steward here immediately."
"I'm very sorry, Sir," said the steward, "but ye see it's just
this way. The mess-boys was holdin' a New Era mass-meetin', and
the cook he forgot--"
"Milk and beef-tea!" growled the Commandant as if they were
swear-words. "What the devil is this new influenza that has struck
the hospital? Steward, you will provide what the head nurse requires
at once. Orderly, my cap, and call Mr. Greel to accompany me on
inspection."
In the galley the fires were out, the ovens cold, the soup-kettles
empty, and all the cooks, dish-washers, and scrubbers were absorbing
the eloquence of the third assistant pie-maker, who stood on an
empty biscuit-box and explained the glories of the one-hour day in
the New Era.
'"Ten_shun!_" yelled the Orderly, and the force of habit
brought the men up, stiff and silent. The Commandant looked around
the circle, grinning.
"My word!" he cried, "what a beautiful sight! What do you think
this is--a blooming debating society? Wrong! It's a hospital, with
near a thousand sick and wounded to take care of. And it's going
to be done, see? And you're going to help do it, see? No work--no
pay and no food! Neglect of orders means extra duty and no liberty
--perhaps a couple of twenty-four-hour days in the brig. That's the
rule in all eras, see? Now get busy, all of you. Chow at twelve as
usual. Carry on, men."
"Aye, aye, sir," they answered cheerily, for they were weary of
the third assistant pie-maker's brand of talk and felt the pangs
of healthy hunger.
Then came the second engineer, out of breath with running, followed
by two or three helpers.
"Fire, captain," he gasped, "fire in the fuel-room--awful
blaze--started in the wood box--cigarette--we were just settin'
round talkin' over what we were goin' to do in the New Era, an'
the first thing we knew it was burnin' like--"
"The New Era," snapped the Commandant, "and be damned to it! Sound
the fire-call. All hands to quarters. Lead along the hose. Follow
me," he cried, hurrying forward through the gathering smoke, "this
ship must be saved."
And so it was--strictly in conformity with the old laws that fire
burns, water quenches, and every man must do his duty promptly. On
these ancient principles, and others equally venerable, the hospital
carried on its good work. But the Commandant made one new rule.
It cost five dollars to mention the New Era within its walls.
-THE END-
Henry Van Dyke's short story: The New Era and Carry On
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