The Red Badge of Courage | Page 6

war.
Various veterans had told him tales. Some talked of gray, bewhiskered
hordes who were advancing with relentless curses and chewing tobacco
with unspeakable valor; tremendous bodies of fierce soldiery who were
sweeping along like the Huns. Others spoke of tattered and eternally

hungry men who fired despondent powders. "They'll charge through
hell's fire an' brimstone t' git a holt on a haversack, an' sech stomachs
ain't a'lastin' long," he was told. From the stories, the youth imagined
the red, live bones sticking out through slits in the faded uniforms.
Still, he could not put a whole faith in veteran's tales, for recruits were
their prey. They talked much of smoke, fire, and blood, but he could
not tell how much might be lies. They persistently yelled "Fresh fish!"
at him, and were in no wise to be trusted.
However, he perceived now that it did not greatly matter what kind of
soldiers he was going to fight, so long as they fought, which fact no one
disputed. There was a more serious problem. He lay in his bunk
pondering upon it. He tried to mathematically prove to himself that he
would not run from a battle.
Previously he had never felt obliged to wrestle too seriously with this
question. In his life he had taken certain things for granted, never
challenging his belief in ultimate success, and bothering little about
means and roads. But here he was confronted with a thing of moment.
It had suddenly appeared to him that perhaps in a battle he might run.
He was forced to admit that as far as war was concerned he knew
nothing of himself.
A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its
heels at the outer portals of his mind, but now he felt compelled to give
serious attention to it.
A little panic-fear grew in his mind. As his imagination went forward
to a fight, he saw hideous possibilities. He contemplated the lurking
menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himself standing
stoutly in the midst of them. He recalled his visions of broken-bladed
glory, but in the shadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to
be impossible pictures.
He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro.
"Good Lord, what's th' matter with me?" he said aloud.

He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless. Whatever he had
learned of himself was here of no avail. He was an unknown quantity.
He saw that he would again be obliged to experiment as he had in early
youth. He must accumulate information of himself, and meanwhile he
resolved to remain close upon his guard lest those qualities of which he
knew nothing should everlastingly disgrace him. "Good Lord!" he
repeated in dismay.
After a time the tall soldier slid dexterously through the hole. The loud
private followed. They were wrangling.
"That's all right," said the tall soldier as he entered. He waved his hand
expressively. "You can believe me or not, jest as you like. All you got
to do is sit down and wait as quiet as you can. Then pretty soon you'll
find out I was right."
His comrade grunted stubbornly. For a moment he seemed to be
searching for a formidable reply. Finally he said: "Well, you don't
know everything in the world, do you?"
"Didn't say I knew everything in the world," retorted the other sharply.
He began to stow various articles snugly into his knapsack.
The youth, pausing in his nervous walk, looked down at the busy figure.
"Going to be a battle, sure, is there, Jim?" he asked.
"Of course there is," replied the tall soldier. "Of course there is. You
jest wait 'til to-morrow, and you'll see one of the biggest battles ever
was. You jest wait."
"Thunder!" said the youth.
"Oh, you'll see fighting this time, my boy, what'll be regular
out-and-out fighting," added the tall soldier, with the air of a man who
is about to exhibit a battle for the benefit of his friends.
"Huh!" said the loud one from a corner.

"Well," remarked the youth, "like as not this story'll turn out jest like
them others did."
"Not much it won't," replied the tall soldier, exasperated. "Not much it
won't. Didn't the cavalry all start this morning?" He glared about him.
No one denied his statement. "The cavalry started this morning," he
continued. "They say there ain't hardly any cavalry left in camp.
They're going to Richmond, or some place, while we fight all the
Johnnies. It's some dodge like that. The regiment's got orders, too. A
feller what seen 'em go to headquarters told me a little while ago. And
they're raising blazes all over camp--anybody can see that."
"Shucks!" said