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I have been on the telephone for several days trying to reach the Secretary of War, Newton Baker. I left several messages to no avail. I was certain that when he heard how I had been maltreated by the Araby-men, that he would send in Eddie Rickenbacker to bomb those brassy-faced fig-eaters back to the Stone Age.
How such jelly-spined cookie-pushers as Mr. Baker obtain their lofty position, I’ll never know. If you don’t have a taste for blood, sir, you should take your hat out of the ring!
AUTHOR’S SPECIAL NOTE: I also suspect him of being a Bolshevist.
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