Page:Frank David Ely -Why defend the nation? Sound Americanism... (1924).pdf/69



N going over an old file of the Infantry Journal we came across an article on the subject of prestige written by Col. Frank D. Ely (then Captain) and published eleven years ago. There are so many thoughts in it that apply to our service conditions today that we are republishing it with the hope that it will fall on fertile ground and be of as much interest to our readers as it has been to us.

HERE is deep satisfaction in the knowledge of a glorious past. Pride of race and love of country are essential to a spirited people. Equally by layman and soldier they are held as sacred to our national honor. But the soldier feels that the glory of our arms is peculiarly his heritage.

Judged on past achievements the Infantry is first in her immense wealth of accomplishment, valor, and power. Her heroic dead heaped on memorable battlefields bear proof of her determination and her ability to do or die. No other arm counts such signal successes, nor such terrific losses; no other arm has so widely and so generously contributed to history. Ever the strength of armies, the glories of war are hers. Through the manifestation of her rugged power, Waterloo and Gettysburg leaped from obscurity to enduring fame. Other tributes to her power are Vicksburg, Shiloh, Franklin, Chickamauga, Chancellorsville, Antietam, and the Wilderness, all fought while this Nation trembled—while the Union all but fell. The power of Infantry has ever been the deciding factor in war, and the very names Army and Infantry have long held a common meaning.

Brilliant as has been her past, the prestige so dearly won is not easily held. The fruit of action and never of inactivity, prestige can be maintained only at the cost of devoted effort and well-directed and sustained energies. We who inherit her past and who cherish her ideals; we who are responsible for her readiness and efficiency and the perpetuity of her power for peace; we, in whom the Nation places her trust of that power, are ever awed by our mighty