Manual for Noncommissioned Officers and Privates of Infantry of the Army of the United States, 1917 To be used by Engineer companies (dismounted) and Coast Artillery — Reading Notes

Structure as a Training Tool

The manual’s organization reflects a deliberate pedagogical sequence. Chapter I begins with the oath of enlistment and moves through obedience, loyalty, and discipline before addressing saluting and conversation—building from abstract principles to concrete behaviors. Later chapters follow a similar logic: Chapter V extracts from the Infantry Drill Regulations, starting with definitions and commands before progressing through the school of the soldier, squad, and company. The outpost section (Chapter VI) breaks down concepts like “line of resistance” and “cossack post” with numbered lists and explicit ratios, such as “about one-half the Infantry of the advance guard should be in the supports.” This structure allows a recruit to learn by incremental steps, each section assuming mastery of the previous one.

Voice of Authority: Precision and Prohibition

The manual’s voice is impersonal and imperative, using phrases like “must be,” “will be,” and “should be” to leave no room for discretion. For example, outpost troops “must be unceasing” in vigilance, and “no trumpet signals except ‘to arms’ or ‘to horse’ are sounded.” The text also prohibits specific behaviors: “Firing disturbs the rest of troops and, if frequently indulged in, ceases to be a warning.” This tone extends to hygiene advice in Chapter IV, where care of the feet is treated as a duty rather than a suggestion. The manual does not explain why these rules exist beyond immediate tactical necessity; it simply states them as givens, reinforcing the hierarchy of command.

Field Craft: From Theory to Trench

The excerpts from Chapter VI on field service show a shift from abstract principles to practical geometry. The “line of resistance” is defined spatially: it should be “beyond effective rifle range” of the main body, and the reserve is placed “in rear of this line” to allow quick reinforcement. The classification of outguards—pickets, sentry squads, and cossack posts—is accompanied by specific troop strengths: a picket is “two or more squads,” a sentry squad is “eight men,” and a cossack post is “four men.” These numbers are not arbitrary; they reflect the minimum effective unit for each observation role. The manual also prescribes that “as a rule not more than one-third of the support should be on outguard duty,” balancing security with rest.

The Soldier’s Body as Equipment

Chapter IV, “Personal Hygiene and Care of the Feet,” treats the soldier’s body as a piece of equipment requiring maintenance. Though the full text is not excerpted, its placement between rations and drill regulations underscores the manual’s holistic view of soldiering: a fit soldier is a functional soldier. The earlier chapter on rations includes “individual cooking” as a skill, and the equipment chapter details assembling the “service kit” and “surplus kit.” This emphasis on self-sufficiency recurs in the field service section, where troops are expected to “intrench” their positions upon arrival. The manual assumes that the soldier will be responsible for his own readiness, from cleaning his rifle to cooking his meals to digging his trench.

Readers approaching this manual should treat it as a period artifact of military standardization, not a narrative. The excerpts reveal a text designed for rote learning and immediate application, where every sentence carries operational weight. Pay attention to the numbered lists and ratios—they are the manual’s core teaching method. The absence of explanatory prose is intentional: the goal is compliance, not understanding. For a first reading, focus on how the manual builds from individual discipline to collective tactics, and note the recurring tension between security (outposts, guards) and efficiency (marching, camping).

Reading the 1917 manual, I felt the ghost of my grandfather’s stiff-backed discipline, his tidy, unyielding world. It reminded me of the quiet dread I carried from The dread Apache: That early-day scourge of the Southwest — Reading Notes, where survival hinged on the same stern, watchful rituals. A different frontier, yet the same lonely weight of order holding back chaos.