The Red Badge of Courage
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Stephen Crane >> The Red Badge of Courage
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"Mebbe, it wa'n't all his fault--not all to-
gether. He did th' best he knowed. It's our
luck t' git licked often," said his friend in a weary
tone. He was trudging along with stooped
shoulders and shifting eyes like a man who has
been caned and kicked.
"Well, don't we fight like the devil? Don't
we do all that men can?" demanded the youth
loudly.
He was secretly dumfounded at this sentiment
when it came from his lips. For a moment his
face lost its valor and he looked guiltily about
him. But no one questioned his right to deal in
such words, and presently he recovered his air
of courage. He went on to repeat a statement
he had heard going from group to group at the
camp that morning. "The brigadier said he
never saw a new reg'ment fight the way we
fought yestirday, didn't he? And we didn't do
better than many another reg'ment, did we?
Well, then, you can't say it's th' army's fault, can
you?"
In his reply, the friend's voice was stern. "'A
course not," he said. "No man dare say we
don't fight like th' devil. No man will ever dare
say it. Th' boys fight like hell-roosters. But
still--still, we don't have no luck."
"Well, then, if we fight like the devil an'
don't ever whip, it must be the general's fault,"
said the youth grandly and decisively. "And I
don't see any sense in fighting and fighting and
fighting, yet always losing through some derned
old lunkhead of a general."
A sarcastic man who was tramping at the
youth's side, then spoke lazily. "Mebbe yeh
think yeh fit th' hull battle yestirday, Fleming,"
he remarked.
The speech pierced the youth. Inwardly he
was reduced to an abject pulp by these chance
words. His legs quaked privately. He cast a
frightened glance at the sarcastic man.
"Why, no," he hastened to say in a concili-
ating voice, "I don't think I fought the whole
battle yesterday."
But the other seemed innocent of any deeper
meaning. Apparently, he had no information.
It was merely his habit. "Oh!" he replied in the
same tone of calm derision.
The youth, nevertheless, felt a threat. His
mind shrank from going near to the danger, and
thereafter he was silent. The significance of the
sarcastic man's words took from him all loud
moods that would make him appear prominent.
He became suddenly a modest person.
There was low-toned talk among the troops.
The officers were impatient and snappy, their
countenances clouded with the tales of misfor-
tune. The troops, sifting through the forest,
were sullen. In the youth's company once a
man's laugh rang out. A dozen soldiers turned
their faces quickly toward him and frowned with
vague displeasure.
The noise of firing dogged their footsteps.
Sometimes, it seemed to be driven a little way,
but it always returned again with increased
insolence. The men muttered and cursed,
throwing black looks in its direction.
In a clear space the troops were at last halted.
Regiments and brigades, broken and detached
through their encounters with thickets, grew
together again and lines were faced toward the
pursuing bark of the enemy's infantry.
This noise, following like the yellings of eager,
metallic hounds, increased to a loud and joyous
burst, and then, as the sun went serenely up the
sky, throwing illuminating rays into the gloomy
thickets, it broke forth into prolonged pealings.
The woods began to crackle as if afire.
"Whoop-a-dadee," said a man, "here we are!
Everybody fightin'. Blood an' destruction."
"I was willin' t' bet they'd attack as soon as
th' sun got fairly up," savagely asserted the
lieutenant who commanded the youth's company.
He jerked without mercy at his little mustache.
He strode to and fro with dark dignity in the
rear of his men, who were lying down behind
whatever protection they had collected.
A battery had trundled into position in the
rear and was thoughtfully shelling the distance.
The regiment, unmolested as yet, awaited the
moment when the gray shadows of the woods
before them should be slashed by the lines of
flame. There was much growling and swearing.
"Good Gawd," the youth grumbled, "we're
always being chased around like rats! It makes
me sick. Nobody seems to know where we go
or why we go. We just get fired around from
pillar to post and get licked here and get licked
there, and nobody knows what it's done for. It
makes a man feel like a damn' kitten in a bag.
Now, I'd like to know what the eternal thunders
we was marched into these woods for anyhow,
THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE 161
unless it was to give the rebs a regular pot shot
at us. We came in here and got our legs all
tangled up in these cussed briers, and then we
begin to fight and the rebs had an easy time of it.
Don't tell me it's just luck! I know better. It's
this derned old--"
The friend seemed jaded, but he interrupted
his comrade with a voice of calm confidence.
"It'll turn out all right in th' end," he said.
"Oh, the devil it will! You always talk like a
dog-hanged parson. Don't tell me! I know--"
At this time there was an interposition by the
savage-minded lieutenant, who was obliged to
vent some of his inward dissatisfaction upon his
men. "You boys shut right up! There no
need 'a your wastin' your breath in long-winded
arguments about this an' that an' th' other.
You've been jawin' like a lot 'a old hens. All
you've got t' do is to fight, an' you'll get plenty 'a
that t' do in about ten minutes. Less talkin' an'
more fightin' is what's best for you boys. I never
saw sech gabbling jackasses."
He paused, ready to pounce upon any man
who might have the temerity to reply. No words
being said, he resumed his dignified pacing.
"There's too much chin music an' too little
fightin' in this war, anyhow," he said to them,
turning his head for a final remark.
The day had grown more white, until the sun
shed his full radiance upon the thronged forest.
A sort of a gust of battle came sweeping toward
that part of the line where lay the youth's regi-
ment. The front shifted a trifle to meet it square-
ly. There was a wait. In this part of the field
there passed slowly the intense moments that pre-
cede the tempest.
A single rifle flashed in a thicket before the
regiment. In an instant it was joined by many
others. There was a mighty song of clashes and
crashes that went sweeping through the woods.
The guns in the rear, aroused and enraged by
shells that had been thrown burlike at them,
suddenly involved themselves in a hideous alter-
cation with another band of guns. The battle
roar settled to a rolling thunder, which was a
single, long explosion.
In the regiment there was a peculiar kind of
hesitation denoted in the attitudes of the men.
They were worn, exhausted, having slept but lit-
tle and labored much. They rolled their eyes
toward the advancing battle as they stood await-
ing the shock. Some shrank and flinched. They
stood as men tied to stakes.
CHAPTER XVII.
THIS advance of the enemy had seemed to the
youth like a ruthless hunting. He began to fume
with rage and exasperation. He beat his foot
upon the ground, and scowled with hate at the
swirling smoke that was approaching like a phan-
tom flood. There was a maddening quality in
this seeming resolution of the foe to give him no
rest, to give him no time to sit down and think.
Yesterday he had fought and had fled rapidly.
There had been many adventures. For to-day he
felt that he had earned opportunities for contem-
plative repose. He could have enjoyed portraying
to uninitiated listeners various scenes at which he
had been a witness or ably discussing the pro-
cesses of war with other proved men. Too it was
important that he should have time for physical
recuperation. He was sore and stiff from his ex-
periences. He had received his fill of all exer-
tions, and he wished to rest.
But those other men seemed never to grow
weary; they were fighting with their old speed.
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He had a wild hate for the relentless foe. Yester-
day, when he had imagined the universe to be
against him, he had hated it, little gods and big
gods; to-day he hated the army of the foe with
the same great hatred. He was not going to be
badgered of his life, like a kitten chased by boys,
he said. It was not well to drive men into final
corners; at those moments they could all develop
teeth and claws.
He leaned and spoke into his friend's ear. He
menaced the woods with a gesture. "If they
keep on chasing us, by Gawd, they'd better watch
out. Can't stand TOO much."
The friend twisted his head and made a calm
reply. "If they keep on a-chasin' us they'll drive
us all inteh th' river."
The youth cried out savagely at this state-
ment. He crouched behind a little tree, with his
eyes burning hatefully and his teeth set in a cur-
like snarl. The awkward bandage was still about
his head, and upon it, over his wound, there was
a spot of dry blood. His hair was wondrously
tousled, and some straggling, moving locks hung
over the cloth of the bandage down toward his
forehead. His jacket and shirt were open at the
throat, and exposed his young bronzed neck.
There could be seen spasmodic gulpings at his
throat.
His fingers twined nervously about his rifle.
He wished that it was an engine of annihilating
power. He felt that he and his companions were
being taunted and derided from sincere convic-
tions that they were poor and puny. His knowl-
edge of his inability to take vengeance for it made
his rage into a dark and stormy specter, that pos-
sessed him and made him dream of abominable
cruelties. The tormentors were flies sucking in-
solently at his blood, and he thought that he would
have given his life for a revenge of seeing their
faces in pitiful plights.
The winds of battle had swept all about the
regiment, until the one rifle, instantly followed by
others, flashed in its front. A moment later the
regiment roared forth its sudden and valiant re-
tort. A dense wall of smoke settled slowly down.
It was furiously slit and slashed by the knifelike
fire from the rifles.
To the youth the fighters resembled animals
tossed for a death struggle into a dark pit. There
was a sensation that he and his fellows, at bay,
were pushing back, always pushing fierce on-
slaughts of creatures who were slippery. Their
beams of crimson seemed to get no purchase upon
the bodies of their foes; the latter seemed to evade
them with ease, and come through, between,
around, and about with unopposed skill.
When, in a dream, it occurred to the youth
that his rifle was an impotent stick, he lost sense
of everything but his hate, his desire to smash
into pulp the glittering smile of victory which he
could feel upon the faces of his enemies.
The blue smoke-swallowed line curled and
writhed like a snake stepped upon. It swung its
ends to and fro in an agony of fear and rage.
The youth was not conscious that he was erect
upon his feet. He did not know the direction of
the ground. Indeed, once he even lost the habit
of balance and fell heavily. He was up again
immediately. One thought went through the
chaos of his brain at the time. He wondered if
he had fallen because he had been shot. But the
suspicion flew away at once. He did not think
more of it.
He had taken up a first position behind the lit-
tle tree, with a direct determination to hold it
against the world. He had not deemed it possi-
ble that his army could that day succeed, and
from this he felt the ability to fight harder. But
the throng had surged in all ways, until he lost
directions and locations, save that he knew where
lay the enemy.
The flames bit him, and the hot smoke broiled
his skin. His rifle barrel grew so hot that ordi-
narily he could not have borne it upon his palms;
but he kept on stuffing cartridges into it, and
pounding them with his clanking, bending ram-
rod. If he aimed at some changing form through
the smoke, he pulled his trigger with a fierce
grunt, as if he were dealing a blow of the fist with
all his strength.
When the enemy seemed falling back before
him and his fellows, he went instantly forward,
like a dog who, seeing his foes lagging, turns and
insists upon being pursued. And when he was
compelled to retire again, he did it slowly, sul-
lenly, taking steps of wrathful despair.
Once he, in his intent hate, was almost alone,
and was firing, when all those near him had ceased.
He was so engrossed in his occupation that he
was not aware of a lull.
He was recalled by a hoarse laugh and a sen-
tence that came to his ears in a voice of contempt
and amazement. "Yeh infernal fool, don't yeh
know enough t' quit when there ain't anything t'
shoot at? Good Gawd!"
He turned then and, pausing with his rifle
thrown half into position, looked at the blue line
of his comrades. During this moment of leisure
they seemed all to be engaged in staring with
astonishment at him. They had become specta-
tors. Turning to the front again he saw, under
the lifted smoke, a deserted ground.
He looked bewildered for a moment. Then
there appeared upon the glazed vacancy of his
eyes a diamond point of intelligence. "Oh," he
said, comprehending.
He returned to his comrades and threw him-
self upon the ground. He sprawled like a man
who had been thrashed. His flesh seemed strange-
ly on fire, and the sounds of the battle continued
in his ears. He groped blindly for his canteen.
The lieutenant was crowing. He seemed
drunk with fighting. He called out to the youth:
"By heavens, if I had ten thousand wild cats like
you I could tear th' stomach outa this war in
less'n a week!" He puffed out his chest with
large dignity as he said it.
Some of the men muttered and looked at the
youth in awe-struck ways. It was plain that as
he had gone on loading and firing and cursing
without the proper intermission, they had found
time to regard him. And they now looked upon
him as a war devil.
The friend came staggering to him. There
was some fright and dismay in his voice. "Are yeh
all right, Fleming? Do yeh feel all right? There
ain't nothin' th' matter with yeh, Henry, is there?"
"No," said the youth with difficulty. His
throat seemed full of knobs and burs.
These incidents made the youth ponder. It
was revealed to him that he had been a barbarian,
a beast. He had fought like a pagan who de-
fends his religion. Regarding it, he saw that it
was fine, wild, and, in some ways, easy. He had
been a tremendous figure, no doubt. By this
struggle he had overcome obstacles which he
had admitted to be mountains. They had fallen
like paper peaks, and he was now what he called
a hero. And he had not been aware of the pro-
cess. He had slept and, awakening, found him-
self a knight.
He lay and basked in the occasional stares of
his comrades. Their faces were varied in de-
grees of blackness from the burned powder.
Some were utterly smudged. They were reek-
ing with perspiration, and their breaths came
hard and wheezing. And from these soiled ex-
panses they peered at him.
"Hot work! Hot work!" cried the lieu-
tenant deliriously. He walked up and down,
restless and eager. Sometimes his voice could
be heard in a wild, incomprehensible laugh.
When he had a particularly profound thought
upon the science of war he always unconsciously
addressed himself to the youth.
There was some grim rejoicing by the men.
"By thunder, I bet this army'll never see another
new reg'ment like us!"
"You bet!"
"A dog, a woman, an' a walnut tree,
Th' more yeh beat 'em, th' better they be!
That's like us."
"Lost a piler men, they did. If an' ol' woman
swep' up th' woods she'd git a dustpanful."
"Yes, an' if she'll come around ag'in in 'bout
an' hour she'll git a pile more."
The forest still bore its burden of clamor.
From off under the trees came the rolling clatter
of the musketry. Each distant thicket seemed a
strange porcupine with quills of flame. A cloud
of dark smoke, as from smoldering ruins, went
up toward the sun now bright and gay in the
blue, enameled sky.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ragged line had respite for some min-
utes, but during its pause the struggle in the
forest became magnified until the trees seemed to
quiver from the firing and the ground to shake
from the rushing of the men. The voices of the
cannon were mingled in a long and interminable
row. It seemed difficult to live in such an atmos-
phere. The chests of the men strained for a bit
of freshness, and their throats craved water.
There was one shot through the body, who
raised a cry of bitter lamentation when came this
lull. Perhaps he had been calling out during
the fighting also, but at that time no one had
heard him. But now the men turned at the woe-
ful complaints of him upon the ground.
"Who is it? Who is it?"
"It's Jimmie Rogers. Jimmie Rogers."
When their eyes first encountered him there
was a sudden halt, as if they feared to go near.
He was thrashing about in the grass, twisting his
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shuddering body into many strange postures.
He was screaming loudly. This instant's hesita-
tion seemed to fill him with a tremendous, fantas-
tic contempt, and he damned them in shrieked
sentences.
The youth's friend had a geographical illusion
concerning a stream, and he obtained permission
to go for some water. Immediately canteens
were showered upon him. "Fill mine, will
yeh?" "Bring me some, too." "And me, too."
He departed, ladened. The youth went with his
friend, feeling a desire to throw his heated body
onto the stream and, soaking there, drink quarts.
They made a hurried search for the supposed
stream, but did not find it. "No water here,"
said the youth. They turned without delay and
began to retrace their steps.
From their position as they again faced to-
ward the place of the fighting, they could of
course comprehend a greater amount of the bat-
tle than when their visions had been blurred by
the hurling smoke of the line. They could see
dark stretches winding along the land, and on
one cleared space there was a row of guns mak-
ing gray clouds, which were filled with large
flashes of orange-colored flame. Over some foli-
age they could see the roof of a house. One win-
dow, glowing a deep murder red, shone squarely
through the leaves. From the edifice a tall lean-
ing tower of smoke went far into the sky.
Looking over their own troops, they saw
mixed masses slowly getting into regular form.
The sunlight made twinkling points of the bright
steel. To the rear there was a glimpse of a dis-
tant roadway as it curved over a slope. It was
crowded with retreating infantry. From all the
interwoven forest arose the smoke and bluster
of the battle. The air was always occupied by
a blaring.
Near where they stood shells were flip-flap-
ping and hooting. Occasional bullets buzzed in
the air and spanged into tree trunks. Wounded
men and other stragglers were slinking through
the woods.
Looking down an aisle of the grove, the
youth and his companion saw a jangling general
and his staff almost ride upon a wounded man,
who was crawling on his hands and knees. The
general reined strongly at his charger's opened
and foamy mouth and guided it with dexterous
horsemanship past the man. The latter scram-
bled in wild and torturing haste. His strength
evidently failed him as he reached a place of
safety. One of his arms suddenly weakened, and
he fell, sliding over upon his back. He lay
stretched out, breathing gently.
A moment later the small, creaking cavalcade
was directly in front of the two soldiers. An-
other officer, riding with the skillful abandon of a
cowboy, galloped his horse to a position directly
before the general. The two unnoticed foot sol-
diers made a little show of going on, but they
lingered near in the desire to overhear the con-
versation. Perhaps, they thought, some great
inner historical things would be said.
The general, whom the boys knew as the com-
mander of their division, looked at the other
officer and spoke coolly, as if he were criticising
his clothes. "Th' enemy's formin' over there for
another charge," he said. "It'll be directed
against Whiterside, an' I fear they'll break
through there unless we work like thunder t' stop
them."
The other swore at his restive horse, and then
cleared his throat. He made a gesture toward
his cap. "It'll be hell t' pay stoppin' them," he
said shortly.
"I presume so," remarked the general. Then
he began to talk rapidly and in a lower tone. He
frequently illustrated his words with a pointing
finger. The two infantrymen could hear nothing
until finally he asked: "What troops can you
spare?"
The officer who rode like a cowboy reflected
for an instant. "Well," he said, "I had to order
in th' 12th to help th' 76th, an' I haven't really got
any. But there's th' 304th. They fight like a
lot 'a mule drivers. I can spare them best
of any."
The youth and his friend exchanged glances
of astonishment.
The general spoke sharply. "Get 'em ready,
then. I'll watch developments from here, an'
send you word when t' start them. It'll happen
in five minutes."
As the other officer tossed his fingers toward
his cap and wheeling his horse, started away, the
general called out to him in a sober voice: "I
don't believe many of your mule drivers will get
back."
The other shouted something in reply. He
smiled.
With scared faces, the youth and his compan-
ion hurried back to the line.
These happenings had occupied an incredibly
short time, yet the youth felt that in them he had
been made aged. New eyes were given to him.
And the most startling thing was to learn sud-
denly that he was very insignificant. The officer
spoke of the regiment as if he referred to a
broom. Some part of the woods needed sweep-
ing, perhaps, and he merely indicated a broom in
a tone properly indifferent to its fate. It was
war, no doubt, but it appeared strange.
As the two boys approached the line, the lieu-
tenant perceived them and swelled with wrath.
"Fleming--Wilson--how long does it take yeh
to git water, anyhow--where yeh been to."
But his oration ceased as he saw their eyes,
which were large with great tales. "We're goin'
t' charge--we're goin' t' charge!" cried the
youth's friend, hastening with his news.
"Charge?" said the lieutenant. "Charge?
Well, b'Gawd! Now, this is real fightin'." Over
his soiled countenance there went a boastful
smile. "Charge? Well, b'Gawd!"
A little group of soldiers surrounded the two
youths. "Are we, sure 'nough? Well, I'll be
derned! Charge? What fer? What at? Wil-
son, you're lyin'."
"I hope to die," said the youth, pitching his
tones to the key of angry remonstrance. "Sure
as shooting, I tell you."
And his friend spoke in re-enforcement. "Not
by a blame sight, he ain't lyin'. We heard 'em
talkin'."
They caught sight of two mounted figures a
short distance from them. One was the colonel
of the regiment and the other was the officer who
had received orders from the commander of the
division. They were gesticulating at each other.
The soldier, pointing at them, interpreted the
scene.
One man had a final objection: "How could
yeh hear 'em talkin'?" But the men, for a large
part, nodded, admitting that previously the two
friends had spoken truth.
They settled back into reposeful attitudes
with airs of having accepted the matter. And
they mused upon it, with a hundred varieties of
expression. It was an engrossing thing to think
about. Many tightened their belts carefully and
hitched at their trousers.
A moment later the officers began to bustle
among the men, pushing them into a more com-
pact mass and into a better alignment. They
chased those that straggled and fumed at a few
men who seemed to show by their attitudes that
they had decided to remain at that spot. They
were like critical shepherds struggling with sheep.
Presently, the regiment seemed to draw itself
up and heave a deep breath. None of the men's
faces were mirrors of large thoughts. The sol-
diers were bended and stooped like sprinters be-
fore a signal. Many pairs of glinting eyes peered
from the grimy faces toward the curtains of the
deeper woods. They seemed to be engaged in
deep calculations of time and distance.
They were surrounded by the noises of the
monstrous altercation between the two armies.
The world was fully interested in other matters.
Apparently, the regiment had its small affair to
itself.
The youth, turning, shot a quick, inquiring
glance at his friend. The latter returned to him
the same manner of look. They were the only
ones who possessed an inner knowledge. "Mule
drivers--hell t' pay--don't believe many will get
back." It was an ironical secret. Still, they saw
no hesitation in each other's faces, and they nod-
ded a mute and unprotesting assent when a shag-
gy man near them said in a meek voice: "We'll
git swallowed."
CHAPTER XIX.
THE youth stared at the land in front of him.
Its foliages now seemed to veil powers and hor-
rors. He was unaware of the machinery of orders
that started the charge, although from the cor-
ners of his eyes he saw an officer, who looked
like a boy a-horseback, come galloping, waving
his hat. Suddenly he felt a straining and heaving
among the men. The line fell slowly forward
like a toppling wall, and, with a convulsive gasp
that was intended for a cheer, the regiment began
its journey. The youth was pushed and jostled
for a moment before he understood the move-
ment at all, but directly he lunged ahead and
began to run.
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