was arrested and court-martialed after considerable trouble. He was Walter L. Hirschberg, a student at the University of Pittsburgh. He registered for selective service, but wrote and sent to his draft board his "declaration of rights," as he viewed them, and maintained such an attitude of defiance toward the Government that it was decided to investigate him. In the meantime he disappeared and was traced to New York, where he was placed under observation. He was detained in a locked room in a hotel until sufficient evidence could be obtained against him, but was so shrewd and resourceful that he outwitted his captors and made his escape. It was suspected that he had gone to Chicago, and a Pittsburgh operative went there to find him. The use of commendable strategy secured his arrest and his return to Pittsburgh at the point of a revolver. Although he condemned war as organized murder, he carried a loaded revolver and blackjack for emergencies! The details of his escape and flight read like a trilling story of Sherlock Holmes. As an instance of his resourcefulness and quick wit, he related that when he arrived at the depot in Chicago, he picked up a newspaper to learn quickly the lay of the land. In flaming headlines he discovered that Chicago police that morning were making wholesale arrests of all young men without registration cards. He had none. He espied a woman with a babe and a large traveling case, and politely offered to assist her by carrying the valise. When he was approached by an officer and requested to show his card, he quickly retorted, "Oh, you are too late. You can see that this is my wife and child." He was allowed to leave the depot and go unmolested. He went into hiding until the scare was over. Hirschberg was sent by a court-martial at Camp Lee to the Atlanta prison for twenty years.
"Pittsburgh had some amusing incidents," says the
Chief who has been so freely quoted, and he has included
several of them in his report:
There was little bootlegging as liquor dealers endeavored to
comply with the law forbidding the sale of intoxicants to
soldiers in uniform or within restricted areas adjacent to army
camps. One negro was suspected, and upon being approached
by an operative, readily agreed to sell a quart of "cold tea"
for $9.00. The operative bought—and then arrested the negro.
When the "cold tea" was tested, it was found to be just what
the negro said it was—cold tea!
An alien enemy refused to register and was taken to the League headquarters for intensive examination. The operative
