by Cody Lennon
“What’s pompous?”
“Arrogant. Entitled. I thought I deserved everything that I got. These past eight weeks have really opened my eyes and meeting you has opened up the world to me. Hearing your story has made me believe in something other than myself. I’ve lived a life blind to everything that matters the most. But you were robbed of your life. I want to give you everything I had, because I know that you of all people will appreciate and be thankful for every little thing. You say you need help starting a new life, well, I’m right here. Ready when you are.” Alex stood and extended his hand to me.
I couldn’t imagine a future without Alex. He pulled me to my feet and our hands stayed locked as we embraced each other.
Chapter 9
March 31
It was graduation day.
The culmination of those long eight weeks had me feeling like a new man. I didn’t realize how much living on the plantation had stunted my growth, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Being fed three meals a day had helped my body get the nutrition that it had been deprived of for so many years. I felt healthy. I felt focused. I felt strong. I still couldn’t sleep much at night, but I woke up every morning feeling great.
My way of thinking, I noticed, worked differently than it did before I enlisted. I wasn’t the same mindless, scatterbrained working machine I was before. I was now master of my own body and mind. The great burden of holding on to my past had been lifted from my shoulders, allowing me to take hold of a new direction in life. I was ready to move on.
After setting things straight with Alex, I felt confident enough in myself to apologize to my other friends for my behavior. They said they took it in stride and didn’t blame me for anything.
The barracks was buzzing with excitement. There were smiles and hugs and congratulations being passed around between the recruits, who had been mere strangers to each other only a few weeks earlier. We didn’t know what laid ahead of us, but we celebrated this milestone anyway, because it was the only thing to do. Dwelling on an uncertain future was a quick way to diminish your spirits. I knew that firsthand.
Army Dress Uniforms looked to me like the single greatest wardrobe ever created. It looked regal. And I had my very own. My uniform was a white collared shirt with a black tie over charcoal gray trousers and a midnight black double-breasted suit jacket buttoned up with twelve brightly shining silver buttons.
Alex had to tie my tie for me. I had never seen one before in my life, let alone tied one. He got annoyed when I untied his work and tried to redo it exactly the way he did it. I nailed it on the first try. His anger quickly dissipated into a smile.
Printed masterfully on a golden nametag sewed onto my right breast pocket was my last name. But the pride and glory of our uniforms were our dress shoes. Elroy had us shining them for three hours the night before. We had them sparkling and looking smoother than glass.
I walked into the bathroom to look myself over in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. Never in my life would I imagine I’d come so far. The uniform felt stiff, but it didn’t bother me. I looked important and that made me feel good. This was a happy day. The first one in a long while.
You look good Colton.
I slipped my red beret under my arm, smoothed out the creases on my jacket, smiled at myself and walked back out to check on Alex.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Carrigan said, nearly hitting me with the door. She was adorned in an identical uniform.
“It’s alright,” I said, trying to slip past her in the door way.
“Hey, Colton?”
“Yes”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Leah. Congrats to you too. You made it.” Leah had kept true to her promise to her herself. She was the only woman in the company to make it all the way through Basic Training.
“I wouldn’t have made it without you. You and the other guys.” She paused. “I never really thanked you for rescuing me that night. I guess I’ve been too ashamed.” She paused again, looked up at me, stood up on her toes and kissed me softly on the cheek. It was warm and innocent. “Thank you.”
She smiled and continued on into the bathroom. I was stunned to see such benevolence and timidity in her.
The barracks was alive with the exaltations of cheers. We congratulated and cheered each other over and over again and we’d do it a hundred more times that day.
Alex stood by our bunk chatting with Hayes and Beauregard. “Colton, my man, look at you.” Hayes said as I approached. We shook hands.
“Today’s the day man, we made it,” Beauregard said, also shaking my hand.
“We sure polished you up good now, didn’t we?” Hayes said, picking a piece of fuzz of my shoulder.
It felt like old times back in the first couple weeks of Basic Training, back before Teague became a menace, before Mr. Stephens showed back up, and before I had my meltdown. All was good. All was right in the world again.
“I’m excited to see my family,” Beauregard said.
“Me too, man. I can’t wait to get home and see my dogs,” Hayes said.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting a little sick of y’all’s faces. I can’t wait to get home,” Alex said.
“I can’t wait to see my Ma. Y’all will know which one she is, she’ll be the big black woman in the front row screaming at the top of her lungs. That’s my baby! That’s my baby!’”
“Good luck to anyone who gets in the way of Mrs. Hayes and her baby boy,” Beauregard retorted.
Hayes almost walloped Beauregard. “You want me to beat your ass, because I will. Don’t talk about my momma.” He looked intently at Beauregard for a few seconds until he couldn’t hold back his smile any longer. “You probably right though. She’ll trample over anybody that gets in her way to hug me after the ceremony. Even Gammon would be no match for her.”
We laughed.
I hope I get stationed with these guys. I can’t imagine myself starting all over again with another unit.
I spotted Shannon walking back to his bunk and decided to go congratulate him. He had one leg kicked up on his bunk to check for scuff marks on his shoes. The dress uniform hung a little loose on his boyish frame, but oddly, made him look older than he actually was. He was so very young. But to the Army it didn’t matter. As long as they can have more bodies to throw at the enemy.
“Tennpenny,” he said, straightening up with a big grin on his face.
“Shannon, we made it buddy.” We shook hands.
“I can’t tell you how excited I am right now. When my friends back home see me in this uniform they’re gonna flip.”
“Where’s home for you?”
“Fort Worth, Texas. I was…”
Alex, Hayes, and Beauregard cut him short. “Hey, Pre-School, you got a girlfriend waiting for you back in Texas?” Beauregard and Alex sat down on his bunk and Hayes teasingly put his arm around Shannon. He hated being called Pre-School. All the guys in the Platoon called him that, because of how young he was. I always called him Shannon. In fact, I didn’t even know his first name at the time.
“That’s none of your business,” Shannon remarked.
“Well damn, don’t get your panties in wad. That was uncalled for. It was a simple question. Wasn’t that uncalled for Beau?” Hayes asked.
“Totally.” They never ceased to take advantage of an opportunity to poke fun at someone.
“What do you want, Hayes?” Shannon was visibly annoyed. But when Hayes flashes his trademark grin at you, you can’t stay mad at him very long.
“Nothing. We just came over to give you a gift. That’s all.”
“What gift?”
Hayes dug something up from his pocket and placed it in Shannon’s hand.
“A condom?” He asked, blushing.
The guys roared with laughter.
“Yup. When you show up with that uniform on, there’s going to be a lot of girls lining up at your door trying to get in your pants. We want you to be prepared
the first time you get a girl between the sheets.”
Shannon was embarrassed, but he always took their ribbings like a champ.
The door to the barracks swung open. Elroy and the other drill sergeants came barreling in. They too were smartly dressed in their finest uniforms. I didn’t know they could spruce up that nice.
“First Platoon. Ah-tenn-shun!”
We hustled to our bunks and snapped to attention. Elroy paced the center aisle looking at each and every one of us like he did on the very first day.
“At ease. I’m not here to bust your balls or anything like that, so relax. This is your day to shine. In half an hour we will march out across that parade field. First Platoon will lead the way,” he said to a roar of cheering and rebel yells. “We’ll enter the field directly across from the podium. At center field, First and Second Platoon will break right and Third and Fourth will break left. With my command, you all will turn and salute the General and accompanying guests. Your family and friends will be in the stands behind him. You are required to maintain attention at all times. There will be time for celebration later.”
Elroy reached into a box that Drill Sergeant Hamilton was holding behind him. He pulled out a handful of dog tags.
“Now don’t go thinking you are real soldiers yet. Just because I give you your tags and your infantry cord doesn’t mean you can be called an infantryman.” That same old look of deep mental agitation showed up on Elroy’s face once more. “Only when you experience combat for the first time will you no longer be boys. Only then will you become soldiers. Only then will you realize what it means to be called a Confederate infantryman, the best of the best.
“Combat is unlike anything you can ever imagine. It is something that cannot be taught. Nothing I say can prepare you mentally for what you will experience the first time someone shoots at you in anger. I’ve done all I can for you. I’ve given you the tools to survive and now it’s your job to utilize those tools.”
“Way to dampen the mood,” Alex whispered.
“Approach when I call your name. You’ll receive your dog tags, your infantry cord and your assignment.” Elroy read names one by one from a clipboard. Each soldier took three steps forward, did a quarter turn and approached Elroy.
Rodriguez.
Daniels.
Marston.
Freeman.
Jones.
The list went on and on. I wondered if I’d ever see these people again.
Tennpenny.
I approached with a heap of hearty cheers from my friends. Elroy placed my dog tags over my head and proceeded to attach the red infantry cord to my right shoulder epaulette.
“Ninth Infantry Battalion. Fort Hampton. Savannah, Georgia. Congratulations, Tennpenny.”
I snapped my heels and threw up a salute. “Thank you, Drill Sergeant.”
Elroy did the same, withdrew his salute and dismissed me. I made my way back to my bunk in time to watch Alex receive his decorations. Alex also got Ninth Infantry Battalion, which was a huge relief.
“What the hell is the Ninth Infantry?” Alex asked when he got back.
I shook my head. I had never heard of the Ninth Infantry.
Much to our elation, our good friends were assigned to the same unit as us. Hayes, Beauregard, Carrigan, Shannon, Junior and a few others all were assigned to the Ninth Infantry Battalion. The rest of the platoon was divvied out to well-known frontline units in Tennessee, Missouri and Virginia. Those unlucky few would be doled out as replacements to plug the holes of units decimated by the frontline meat grinder.
I was the only one not surprised when Elroy called Teague’s name and announced his deployment.
“Special Assignment. Montgomery, Alabama.”
He would be going to the capital to train for some higher agency like Gammon had said. Good riddance.
Elroy finished out the list of names, gave us one last verbal pat on the back and told us to line up in formation outside. It was graduation time.
*
We had entered as Elroy had instructed us to. First and Second Platoon broke right and Third and Fourth broke left. We marched with gleeful enthusiasm under the vibrant sound of bellowing trumpets. When we got the signal, we turned as one unit, snapped our heels together and stood at attention in front of the podium.
We were welcomed with a standing ovation from the crowd.
The podium sat center stage, enlivened with the Southern Cross, the Blood-Stained Banner, and the Bonnie Blue Flag. A windswept red, white and blue curtain masked the front of the hollow stage.
There were over two dozen officers in attendance, each one wearing a crisp uniform blazoned with dozens medals and ribbons. They sat in their fold-out chairs eyeing the parading soldiers. Gammon sat in the middle, chin raised, looking every bit the man of legend he was. After ordering us into positon, the drill instructors took their places in front of the platoons.
The opening introductions and customary congratulatory acknowledgements from the numerous high ranking officials, whose names I would never hear of again, took up what seemed like hours. My knees started to ache and the sun burned my neck. The speakers talked in monotones and their speeches felt forced and scripted, leaving me bored.
I tuned them all out, and peered off into the crowd behind the podium. There were hundreds of men, women, and children. All of the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins, they all were there to watch their loved one’s official inauguration into the Confederate Armed Forces.
All the fathers had that blank, yet emotional look of being proud. All the mothers had tears in their eyes quietly wishing for the speakers to hurry up so that they can go hug their babies. All the siblings, too young to realize the importance of such an event, sat bored, bashfully sitting off to the sides of their parents. They waved little Confederate flags in the air, ones similar to mine, I noticed.
Sure enough, there was Hayes’ mother in the front row, a damp handkerchief in one hand and the other desperately waving in the air trying to get Hayes’ attention.
Seeing the stands full of all these families filled me with a wave of sad, self-deprecating depression. All those people up there looking for their loved ones.
In a moment of blank minded naivety, I searched for any sign of Mr. Jeffries in the stands. I had hoped in vain that somehow he had made it here to see me graduate. It was wishful thinking. All of the proud looks, all of the tears, and all of the love of those in the stands were meant for all the other boys and girls standing beside me on the field.
Finally, General Gammon approached the microphone. A sharp static emanated from the speakers as he cleared his throat. He wore his best looking dress uniform, with rows of brightly colored ribbons and medals speckled across his chest, evidence of his long, sacrificing service to the Confederate Army in battles and engagements of wars long passed. I never envied someone as much as I did at that moment.
Gammon had not even spoken a word yet. He didn’t have to. Just standing there, composing his thoughts, sincere in every movement, he was the man that I wanted to be. Everything about him I wanted for myself. The strength. The passion. The selflessness. He had sacrificed who knows what for the pure love of his country and his people.
I decided right then and there that I would be standing at that same podium someday, dictating a speech to a host of brand new army inductees as he was about to do. He was everything I wanted to be. Everything I will be.
“Ladies and gentleman,” he addressed the crowd, “I give to you…our future. The next line of heroes that we will read about in the newspapers for days to come.” The crowd erupted with applause. “Their names will often go untold, but their deeds will speak volumes. History has taught us that wars are fought by nameless, faceless soldiers. That is the greatest tragedy of our time. These soldiers are the heart and soul of our country. We need to champion their names. There isn’t a single tree or blade of grass in this nation that hasn’t grown strong off of the blood and sweat of our soldiers.
They hold up the very ground we walk upon, so hold them close to your hearts, lest you ever forget that.”
That was all he had to say to the audience of civilians.
“Men.” A pause. “We are at war. Our great nation is being battered by belligerent foreign enemies by land, by sea and by the air. Our northern states are in a state of emergency. Entire cities have been evacuated. Millions of our own countrymen are fleeing south. Our streets have become avenues for deadly street by street fighting. Our hills and forests have been flattened by the steel treads of their war machines and set ablaze by their artillery and airstrikes. And our streams and rivers have churned red with the blood of our neighbors.” Gammon didn’t sugarcoat anything. “As soldiers it is our duty to run toward the sound of gunfire. While everyone else’s first instinct is to run from danger, it is ours to seek it out and squash it with our boot.”
With his hands firmly gripping the edges of the podium, Gammon blinked rapidly and hung his head low for a few seconds before resuming with a more subdued tone. “A young boy once asked me why I wear this uniform. At the time I didn’t know why. Embarrassed, I walked away. I didn’t see the boy again for another eight months. When he saw me again, he asked me the same question. And once again, I ignored him. But after many years of reflection, I can finally answer that question. And to that little boy I say: because I had the freedom to choose to wear this uniform. It’s only with the freedom of choice can we become what we have always dreamed we could be. In a world where such liberties are becoming rarer, I continue to wear this uniform so that future generations may have that very same freedom.”
“You all come from different walks of life, but now your paths have converged. Together you will march into battle. Together you will face the enemy. And together you will come home. Depend on each other. Trust each other. Love each other. For when the bullets start flying, the soldier next to you is the only sense of security you will have. Go forth from here, charge forward and keep the Southern Cross flying high.”
