BANQUET. 307 



ADDRESS BY MAJOR GENERAL DAVID C. SHANKS. 



Mr. President, and gentlemen of the Society of Naval Architects and Marine Engineers, 

 ladies and gentlemen, I esteem it a great honor that I have been asked to say a few words 

 here this evening, although I could sincerely wish that honor had fallen upon, some other 

 officer who could more creditably represent the Army, as far as public speaking is concerned. 

 I am sure that this invitation did not come to me because of any knowledge I have of naval 

 architecture or marine engineering. Nobody could know much less about those things than 

 I do. Unfortunately, too, I know it did not come to me because of any supposition that I 

 could entertain you with thrilling stories of deeds witnessed abroad, because, so far as this 

 war is concerned, all of my service has been, at home. The only story I could tell you would 

 be of the prosaic and oftentimes tedious duties connected with the organization and admin- 

 istration of the Port of Embarkation. Sometimes I have felt that the hardest blow that be- 

 fell any officers or any men in our service were those who were assigned to duty at the Port 

 of Embarkation. 



Let me tell you just a little something about one of our camps — Camp Merritt, for in- 

 stance. It took 6,000 men tO' run the camp, and they remained there permanently. It was 

 their job to do the drudgery. They guarded the camp, cooked the rations, and handled the 

 supplies day after day, while one cheering organization after another went through the camp 

 for service abroad. Their blood was as red and their patriotism as great as any of the sol- 

 diers that went abroad, but they had to stay on the job. (Applause.) So far as they were 

 concerned, they occupied a position analogous to that of the small boy who is left at home to 

 mind the baby while the other boys go swimming. (Laughter.) 



A few weeks after the armistice was signed last year I went out to Camp Merritt, and 

 I want to tell you a little incident of what I saw there. Under a fine tree was a new-made 

 grave, and neatly sodded over, a paling fence was around it, and at the head of the grave was 

 a white monument. It was new, I had not seen it before, and I stepped over to see what it 

 was, and these were the words which I found on that monument : — 



"Sacred to memory of our hopes of going 

 over which died here, November 11, 1918." 



(Applause.) 



Now, gentlemen, I will not bore you with statistics of the number of soldiers who went 

 across. The greatest number that we sent in one day was 39,000 (applause) and the great- 

 est number that came back in one month was 347,000. 



There were a few little incidents out of the ordinary that perhaps I might tell you 

 about briefly. During the time I was at the port, I had one or two letters rather out of the 

 ordinary and rather touching. One of them was from a mother in Pennsylvania, and it was 



