Sidney D. Light's WWI Diary, Postcards & Letters, 329th Battery Book Accounts

A-Servin’ of His Majesty, King Clean

                                           At ease, gentle reader, while we pass a well-known character in review.  You won’t have to get up as he passes—as the only bars he has control of are those on the guard-house windows.  Just take it from us, he’s a regular fellow, is Gilbert D. Crook, senior color sergeant of the regiment.

       Crook is above al things a diplomat.  He had to be on the provost sergeant’s work that fell his way.  It was
    Gil, get this,
    Gil, get that;
    And Gilbert, how’s the wood?
    And how much would
    A pris’ner cut
    If pris’ners would cut wood?

       Which might indicate that he figured in—and on—the wood proposition at home and abroad.  He did.  And that wasn’t all.  He handled the manifold duties of provost sergeant with system and dispatch.  In other words, he was featured in all the clean-ups our regiment knew—from the old days of making the artillery section at Custer look like an ad. for Spotless Town to the more recent days of general police duty everywhere. Figuratively speaking, Gil handled everything from garbage to hard-boiled prisoners and came out on top—with all parties satisfied.  We’ve said he was a diplomat.

       Which may also explain his knack for handling men—prisoners, to be more specific—without Bolshevism or loud language.  Men who wouldn’t work for anything or G. H. Q. went along with Crook and did their bit.  Lots of regular fellows get in the guardhouse, y’know, and he got results by treating them all “regular.” He could never play Simon Legree: he would be too apt to hand Uncle Tom a broom—and a smile—and pass on to see if Topsy had the kitchen policed up.

       It may have struck you as strange that we referred to Crook as senior color sergeant of the regiment and then went on to recount his police activities.  Well, it did us, too, until we learned that a color sergeant may be called upon for provost duty any time he is not busy tending the colors.  Incessant moving Over There kept our colors furled until the last lap of our journey; hence his devotion to duty of another sort.

       Had we been stationed in a garrison for any length of time, the reverent care that is given our national standard and regimental standard would have been his chief concern.  He would have had to lower the flag each night at retreat—never letting the folds touch the ground.  He would have carried the colors at reviews, as he did several times at Custer.   He would have commanded the guard that escorts the Starry Banner on prescribed occasions.  He would have belonged to his title.