4 A Letter from Wilson

CHAPTER 4 A Letter from Wilson Another night came and the columns of men crossed two bridges. Henry was sure that they would be attacked from the caves in the woods at any moment. But no one bothered them in their camping place, and the soldiers slept the brave sleep of tired men. In the morning they woke up early and ran along a narrow road that led deep into the forest. The men began to count the miles. Many threw away their knapsacks. Soon, few carried anything but their necessary clothes,

blankets, canteens, guns, and ammunition. "You can now eat and shoot," said Jim to Henry. "That's all you want to do." They marched on and on for a few days, and Henry began to think of this as nothing but a demonstration of men in blue uniforms showing how well they could march. One gray dawn, however, he was kicked in the leg by Jim. Before he was even fully awake, Henry found himself running down a road among men who were panting from moving so fast. From far ahead of them came the sudden sputter of firing guns. They were running right toward it! Henry was confused. He tried to think as he ran with his friends, but all he knew was that the men behind would run him over if he fell. He needed to focus in order to keep from tripping. He felt as if he was being carried along by a mob. One by one, other troops came into view.

Henry knew that his time had come. He was about to be tested. Looking around, he saw that it would be impossible to escape from the troop. They were on all sides. He felt as if he was in a moving box. Henry realized that he had never wanted to come to the war. He felt as if he hadn't chosen to join the army. He had been dragged in by the government, who had made him feel that it was his duty to come, and now they were taking him out to be killed. He felt angry for being here. He didn't trust the people who were in charge of the army. When the men arrived at the clearing, Henry expected to see a battle scene. Instead, there were a few groups of men running back and forth. They were firing at the landscape. A flag fluttered. The troop passed a dead body, and the wind raised the man's beard as if a hand were stroking it. Strange ideas took hold of Henry as he

marched on and on. He thought the land threatened him. At any moment the enemy would attack, killing him and his friends. He wanted to warn them that the generals didn't know what they were doing, but he knew that no one would listen. They would probably laugh. When they stopped and lay on the ground for safety, many of the men in the troop began building tiny hills in front of them. They used stones, sticks, earth, and anything else they thought might stop a bullet. The men discussed whether this was honorable or not—whether it would be more honorable to stand and face the enemy without protection. The troop was ordered to move again and again, which made Henry impatient. He wondered out loud why they were doing this. Jim ate a little and answered, "Oh, I suppose we must go walking around to keep them from getting too close, or something."

In the afternoon the troop went out over the same ground it had walked in the morning. The land was more familiar to Henry. It didn't threaten him anymore. But any time they passed into a new region, his old worries of stupidity and fear came back to him. After a while, he decided that the stupidity didn't matter much. He wondered what it would be like to get shot right away in his first battle. Soon Henry heard guns ahead. He saw the soldiers running, followed by the sound of gunfire. Henry forgot about getting shot. He watched the battle, spellbound. Suddenly he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw the loud soldier, Wilson.

"It's my first and last battle, old boy," Wilson said. He was very pale and his lip was trembling. "Eh?" murmured Henry, in great astonishment. "I said it's my first and last battle. Something tells me—" "What?" asked Henry. "I want you to take these here things to my folks," he said, and ended with a little sob of pity for himself. He handed Henry a small envelope. "Why, what the devil..." began Henry. But the other man gave him a glance as from the depths of a tomb, raised his limp hand, and turned away.