An Aged Recruit

An Aged Recruit

By H. R. Merrill

The old gentleman, with head thrown back and fine old

figure erect, entered the recruiting station where a young captain

of infantry sat casting up totals preparing to close for the day.

"Good evening, Captain!"

The Captain raised his head, his eyes taking in at a glance

the straight old figure, and the keen gray eyes that peered out

at him from under their heavy gray brows.

"Good evening, sir," he replied, as he rose from his chair.

"How can I serve you?"

"I want to enlist as a private in the Idaho infantry."

The Captain smiled showing his fine teeth as he reached out

his hand.

"Shake hands, sir, I am delighted to meet a man like you.

I wish more younger men possessed your splendid American

spirit, but I'm afraid — "

"There, there, my boy, don't say no moah until I explain.

S;t down, I want to tell you why I want to enlist."

"But you're twenty-five years over age — "

"Never mind the aige, I'm as good as twenty enemies yit."

"I'll call Colonel Irvine, perhaps you would better speak to

him."

The young officer went to a door near the rear of the room

and presently a middle-aged gentleman appeared.

"This gentleman," the Captain began, "is anxious to enlist

in the infantry."

" Idaho," the old gentleman put in.

"But my good man. You're — " the Colonel began, when he

was interrupted by the old Southerner.

"I know I'm too old, Kernel, I'm not denyin' that, but I

want to enlist anyhow. Surely an old man has a right to fight

foah his kentry as well as a young man, hasn't he? It's like this,

Kernel, I jest got to fifdit, that's all — I jest got to fight — I couldn't

ever feel right if I didn't."

"It's jest this way, I'm a Southerner by birth and by trainin'

— I'm southern clean through, an' cain't he'p it, an' what's more,

I don't want to he'p it. You jest take a seat there an' I'll tell

you all jest why I want to 'nlist."

"You see, a way back in sixty-five I was jest a boy, but I

toted my ol' squirrel rifle behind Gineral Lee, the greatest gin-

eral this earth has ever seed, in manv a skirmieh. I loved ol'

AN AGED RECRUIT 197

Lee, Kernel, an' I loved the South, its plantations, its rivers, an'

it* trees; an' I loved Jeff Davis an' the Stars an' Bars.

"Wal, it purty nigh broke my heart that day in sixty-five

when Gineral Lee gave up. I kin see us yit — a long line o' hun-

gry gray soljahs, every one a wishin' that the earth would swaller

him before he'd see the Gineral bow before 01' Grant. We

loved Gineral Lee, Kernel, every last man of us, an' we all knew

that with him to lead we'd a knocked 01' Grant plum into the

sea, if we'd a had a half chance, but that's neither here nor

there — we didn't have a chance."

"On that day when we saw Lee's oF gray face so sad it clean

broke us all up, I had sich a lump in my throat I couldn't say a

word or see him when he said good-bye. As I said I was a

youngster then, Kernel, but I swore that the Stars and Stripes

would never be saluted by me, nor honored, an' that I would

teach my children an' my children's children to hate and de-

spise it.

"As soon as the surrender was completed I lit out for Ten-

nessee, my old home state, where I hoped to find the old home

jest as I had left it two years befo'e. A month I traveled, mostly

on foot, totin' the oF rifle, the only thing in the world I pos-

sessed, livin' like a tramp but always pushin' westward.

"At last, one evenin', jest at sun-down, I crossed the last

ridge and with a glad heart and light feet pushed down the old

trail over which I had driven the cows many a time. At the old

spring I took a drink and washed as best I could and then has-

tened on. As a break in the woods revealed the old home site,

I stopped. Where the barn had been a few charred and broken

beams stuck up against their background of trees. With a fear

that I had never known in the firing line tuggin' at my heart I

stepped out into the road that ran past the house, but no house

was there. Charred boards, a crumbled and blackened fireplace,

and a few twisted and broken irons marked the spot of which I

had been dreamin' for two long years.

"I leaned up against a tree an' I cursed the Yankees long

an' fervently. Kernel, you cain't understan' jest how I felt, I

reckon. I felt like I'd like to have my hands around the throat

of every Yankee in America. Later I found two graves which

told their own story. That night I left Tennessee, my face once

more to'ads the west where the traces of war would not be so

easily seen, more of a rebel than I had ever been.

"I settled on a farm in Idaho an' there I stuck, still hatin'

the flag and a hopin' that some day I'd have a chance to pay.

Kernel, it's awful when a man has a hate like that in his heart !

"Then I married. I got an angel of a wife, and somehow

I couldn't hate as I had done, but my mind was sot, and I lost no

chance to malign the flag. Then children came but they didn't

198 IMPROVEMENT ERA

stay; an' somehow each new-made grave brought back the hate

as if the Yankees and the flag had robbed me once more. An'

then, Kernel, Jeff he come an' stayed, but it seemed that again

I was to lose, for his mother seemed to pine away, an' when he

was hardly two years old we buried her beside her other four.

"Do you think a lad two years old can know grief, Kernel?

It seemed that that little feller knew of our loss. As I stood

holdin' him by the open grave, he looked down at her an' then

he put his little arms around my neck and sobbed as if his heart

would break. Right there that hate came back as strong as

when I stood by all that was left of the old home, for now my

boy was bein' hurt. As I pressed him to me, I swore we would

both be rebels to the very last, hatin' and scornin' the Yankee

flag.

"Wal, you never in your life saw a feller grow like that

chap did. An' smart — he beat the world for bein' smart, an' he

got so he could ask more plagued questions than o' Noah Web-

ster could have answered in his life time. As soon .as he got

big enough to go with me we lived alone, and I began my les-

sons of hate, but somehow, Kernel, they jest wouldn't stay with

that feller. He was jest so chock full of sunshine an' love that

he couldn't even hate a dog that bit him, an' plead so hard for

his life that I couldn't pull the trigger after I got the gun aimed.

"I tell you it was a hard pill to take when I had to let him

go to school. We had never been separated since his mother

died. We slept together, we ate together, an' we played together.

The first day he was gone I jest couldn't do nothin' but walk

up an' down the path watchin' for him to come.

"At last I seed him comin'. an' out I went an' grabbed

him in my arms an' kissed him, an' then sot him on my shoul-

ders an' toted him to the house. As I sot him down he grabbed

me roun' the neck an' squeezed me tight, an' then he said, rather

gentle like, he didn't want to hurt my feelin's:

" 'Say, Pap, the teacher says you're wrong about the flag

and our country — an' teacher knows.'

"Wal, sir, I was plum flabbergasted. 'What did teacher

say?' I managed to ask.

" 'She says this is the grandest country on earth, an' that

the Star Spangled Banner is the most beautiful flag in the whole

world.'

"'Did she say that?' I couldn't git any further.

"Wal, after that I was a little more careful about what I

paid, because I didn't want to contradict the teacher right out

flat for fear he'd lose confidence in her. He learnt all the na-

tional songs an' could sing 'em, too, that very winter. He went

right up through the public schools without a hitch an' grad-

uated with the highest honors, an' when in his speech on com-

AN AGED RECRUIT 199

mencement day, standin' up thare so fine an' strong with his

mother's eyes a lookin' square at me, he said he loved Old Glory

an' pointed to it wavin' froni the wall, somehow my old eyes

got so misty I could see in it the Stars an' Bars made bigger an'

brighter.

"Wal, then he tackled high school an' went through it with

his head up and a prancin', lookin' more like his mother every

day, an' gittin' dearer all the time. It seemed jest like I got

young again, and he was my pal, my wife, an' my son, all at

the same time. He took the hardest of the work on the farm

with a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eye. He used to

treat me jest like I was his sweetheart. He never let me make

the fire, or chop the wood, or milk the cow, after a hard day's

work, no sir-ee. He said I hail done my share. Say, Kernel, did

you ever have a son? Didn't? You've missed a heap, Kernel!

"Then this war broke out. He was determined to go right

from the start. He said I had fought for what I thought was

right, an' now he was goin' to fight for what he thought was right.

I argued with him, an' plead with him, an' told him that the

Yankees had killed his grandfather and grandmother an' had

robbed us of our home, but it wa'nt any use. 'We have a home,

haven't we?' he argued. 'Besides, Pap, our great great grand-

parents gave their lives for this country an' this flag! You

fought against both the country an' the flag because you thought

you were right. I'm not blaming you, Pap, but I feel that I owe

the flag a debt which I am able to pay at last.'

"The hate had long ago left my heart an' so I couldn't

stan' out.

"We fixed him up a kit an' prepared for his goin'. Kernel

I cain't tell you how it hurt, an' as I saw him standin' in the

lamplight jest before we went to bed our last time together, he

was the handsomest man in all the world. It seemed that he

looked jest like ol' Gineral Lee, only younger, an' as I blowed

out the light an' he got in bed beside me for the last time,

Kernel, this flag an' this country seemed very dear to me because

he loved it — it was his flag, his country!

"The next mornin' when he said good-bye — I couldn't say

— a word — jest stood an' blubbered like a calf. He held up as

best he could but his lips quivered an' tears run down his cheeks

in spite of him as he wrung my hand — then he kissed me.

" 'Good-bye — Pap,' he says kind o' broken. 'You've been

awful good to me — you've been mother an' father an' sister an'

brother to me. I wish you were young so you could go, too —

I'd like to fight beside a man like you — here's a flag, Pap. It

ain't my flag — it's our flag! Keep it with all — my — love! I'll

pay our debt, Pap — the debt we owe our country, an' then I'll

help on the debt our country owes France! Goodbye, Pap,

take good care of yer self!'

200 IMPROVEMENT ERA

"Then lie turned an' was gone, an' I was left with this here

little silk flag, wet with tears, crumpled up in these ol' hands

o' mine!

"You hain't got a son, you say? Kernel, you don't know

what this war means. It means that somewhere in France a

feller dearer than you can know, I reckon, may suffer wounds

an' death. It's all right, Kernel, I ain't a findin' fault, but it's

hard. I have suffered before, an' now I can suffer for this flag —

it's his — it's mine!

"Wal, sir, after he went, I tried to stay on the farm, but

somehow I couldn't! Great heaven, what an emptiness was

there, but you ain't had a son! I tried to work, but wherever I

turned I saw the tools he worked with — his team, his harness, his

plow had to be taken from the furrow before I could pass. In

the house every piece of furniture, every dish, every picture on

the wall spoke of him. The toys I gave him when a boy were

on the shelf — his overalls hung behind the door. I tried to

stay, Kernel, but I couldn't — I jest couldn't!

"He's been gone three whole weeks — three eternities it

seems — I cain't stan' another three like them. I'm here to en-

list in his regiment. I owe this country a great debt. I've been

a rebel — I've fought against the flag, an' now I want to pay as

I never thought I would want to pay. I want to fight with him —

for him. I want to die with him !

"Don't ask my age, Kernel; I'm over twenty-one — I'm strong

an' robust yit. Look at that arm! It can carry a musket with

the best of them. I'm a crack shot, Kernel, come on, what do

you say?"

The old man drew himself up to his full height and stood

there a fine type of well preserved manhood, his keen, clear eyes

belying the snow-white brows. The Colonel was plainly touched.

"What company do you prefer?" he asked.

"Company Idaho Infantry," the old Southerner re-

sponded promptly.

"Captain, get this man's record and show him the way to

the barracks, at once." The Colonel arose. "I am delighted to

have met you, sir," he said, as he held out his hand.

"God bless you, Kernel!" the old man answered fervently,

as he took the outstretched hand. "Me an' Jeff together can

whoop the whole German army. Try us!"

"Give my love to Jeff," the Colonel called, as the Captain

led the new recruit away. "Rather old, but good timber," he

mused. "I wonder what this war does mean!"

Thus it came about that a new name appeared on the roster

of Company , and in the column where the age should have

been were the words, "Over twenty-one."

Preston, Idaho