Willie was born, full-grown, during the Italian campaign.He needed a shave and his clothes hung in weary folds on his weary
frame. Even on his day of creation, his thick fingers were curved, as
though from grasping a pick handle or an M-1 rifle. He did not smile
then and he has never smiled since.Willie was born into the 45th Infantry Division, where his creator,
Private Bill Mauldin, also served. Willie had a sidekick, Joe. Together
Willie and Joe slogged from Italy to Germany.Willie and Joe were citizen soldiers. Before their incarnation, they had
presumably been peaceful citizens. Now they were veterans of war's
hardships, its filth, discomforts and agonizing boredom. War was bad
weather and soaking clothes, cold rations and no letters from home. War
was mile after mile of tramping, getting just as tired advancing as
retreating, sleeping in barns, bathing in icy rivers, scrounging for
small comforts.War was getting drunk on grappa manufactured in stills made from wrecked
airplane parts; reading with vacant eyes the labels on K-ration tins or
even German propaganda leaflets, just to be reading.War was praying between artillery barrages; pitying the starved Italian
children and the Italian women standing in the midst of their ruined
homes. War was watching their friends die, one after the other, day
after day after day. War was learning the ecstasy of wiggling a little
finger just to see it move and know that you were still alive. War was
hell.Willie and Joe were combat infantrymen.In any army's vast organization, combat infantrymen are the hundreds of
thousands who are always in the front lines
and who carry the dirtiest, heaviest burden of any war. They are the
heroes whom the Army this week honors on Infantry Day —the
anniversary of the day that George Washington was named commander in
chief of the Continental Army. Through Willie and Joe, Soldier-Artist
Bill Mauldin has honored them in his own way.Not Broad-Minded. Willie and Joe, speaking their sardonic mouthfuls,
usually say what youthful Bill Mauldin himself has to say on the
subject of war. But in a book written
around them, Mauldin has added further remarks, for the benefit of
those civilians who find Willie and Joe a little bewildering. He
explains: “I haven't tried to picture this war in a big, broad-minded
way. I'm not old enough to understand what it's all about.”His book is a text to some 160 of his pictures. It
throws sharp light on cartoons which are serious and gay, ribald and
sentimental, tough, touching and bitter—the best cartoons to come out
of the war.Up Front, which is like a long letter home, sets forth some of Bill
Mauldin's favorite gripes, which are the gripes of all infantrymen.
Among them: revulsion at “spit & polish” in the field; envy of
rear-echelon men who take over the towns after the infantrymen have
captured them, occupy all the best spots and drink all the liquor;
disdain for brass hats full of arrogance and stuffing.
