30 A New Start

CHAPTER 30 A New Start The noises around them began to grow weaker and less frequent. Henry and Wilson suddenly looked up, worried at the silence. They could see changes going on among the troops, who were marching this way and that. Henry stood up. "Well, what now, I wonder," he said. He seemed to be preparing for some new noise. He shaded his eyes with his dirty hand and gazed over the field. Wilson also stood and stared.

"I bet we're going to get out of this and back over the river," he said. They waited and watched. In a little while, the troop received orders to retrace its way. The men got up from the grass and stretched their arms over their heads. One man swore as he rubbed his eyes. They all groaned. They had as many objections to this as they would have had to a proposal for a new battle. They had been comfortable where they were. The men marched back over the field slowly. Just a short time earlier they had run across it madly. The troop kept walking until it joined the rest of the army. The troops reformed into columns and marched through the woods. They passed within view of a white house. In front of it were groups of their soldiers firing at a distant enemy. At this point the troops curved away from the field and went winding off in the

direction of the river. When Henry realized where they were going, he looked over his shoulder at the trampled ground and breathed deeply with satisfaction. Then he nudged Wilson and said, "Well, we're leaving the battlefield. It's all over." Wilson gazed backward, too. "It really is," he said, in amazement. It took some time for Henry to adjust to this change. Slowly his brain came out of the clouds and he was able to understand where he was and what was happening. He understood that the time to fight was in the past. He had been in a land of strange battles, and had come back. He had been where there was red blood and black passion, and he had escaped. His first thoughts were to celebrate. Later, he began to study his actions—his failures and his achievements. He felt happy and did not regret anything. Only the best of

his actions had been witnessed. It was a pleasure to remember these things, and he spent a long time reliving them in his mind. He saw that he was good. He recalled with a thrill of joy the comments of his comrades about how brave he had been. Still, the ghost of his flight from the first battle came back to him. There were small complaints in his brain about this. He blushed for a moment, and he felt a flicker of shame. Then the memory of the tattered soldier whom he had deserted in the field came back to him. For an instant, a chill of sweat came over him at the thought that others might know how he had behaved. He gave a cry of pain. Wilson turned and asked, "What's the matter, Henry?" Henry could only reply with curses muttered to himself.

As he marched, this vision of his behavior hung over him. It clung to him and darkened his good memories. Whichever way his thoughts turned, they were followed by the phantom of the tattered soldier left alone in the field. Henry looked at his friends and felt certain that they could see the guilt in his face. But they were walking away, talking about the great victory in the recent battle. For a time, this memory of the tattered soldier took all the celebration out of Henry. He saw his mistake, and he was afraid that it would stay with him for his entire life. He didn't talk with his friends and tried not to look at any of them. But slowly he gathered the strength to put the sin behind him. And at last, his eyes seemed to open to some new ways. He looked back at his behavior and beliefs before he had been in the battles, and he discovered that he hated the way he had been.

With this discovery came self-confidence. He felt that he had really become a strong and quiet man. He knew that he wouldn't back down from any future battles. He had been close to death and found that, after all, it was only death. So it happened that as he trudged from the place of blood and wrath, his soul changed. He was not angry and fearful anymore. It rained. The soldiers marched in the mud. They appeared upset and were muttering to themselves. But Henry smiled, for he saw that the world was waiting for him. He had rid himself of the sickness of battle. The nightmare was in the past. He had been an animal, blistered and sweating in the heat and pain of war. He turned now to an image of beautiful skies, fresh meadows, and cool rivers: a life of soft and unending peace. Over the river, a golden ray of sun came through the rain clouds.