The Drums Of War
Young Doctor Joe stretched slowly, hearing the sound of old bones creak as he did. He remembered the day (so long ago now!) when he had told the group gathered at Pine Bloom for the birth of Aunt Scarlett's twin boys that he would be known as Young Doctor Joe until he dropped dead of old age. Well, he hadn't dropped yet, but he was plenty old, and his friends and family, the people who knew him well, still called him Young Doc.
"How you doing, boy?" he called into the other room. "Need me to come show you how it's done?"
Joey laughed. "Not likely, old man. I've worked at the diner after school for two years; scrambling some eggs and making toast isn't anything new to me."
"So you say," Young Doc snorted. "But I don't see no food on the table."
"Just hold your horses. I'm coming," Joey said, entering the room and setting two plates on the table. You want juice, Pops? There's grape, or orange."
"Naw, just a glass of water, if you don't mind. Seems like juice sours on my stomach anymore, like a lot of things I used to enjoy."
"Might ought to get that checked out,"Joey said, handing him a glass of ice water. For himself, he had a huge glass of orange juice; Young Doc could see the bits of pulp clinging to the side. A sudden memory of the apple jack his uncle had passed around to celebrate the birth of those twins hit him, and he remembered how good it had tasted on his parched tongue, the sweet, apple-y tang of the cider followed by the sharper kick of the alcohol.
He sighed. He'd never taste that again, either. He hadn't seen any apple jack in years; he didn't think anyone even made it any more.
"So, Young Doc... there's something I need to talk to you about," Joey said after they had finished the simple meal. Young Doc raised an eyebrow.
"You don't say," he remarked. "And here I was, thinking that my eighteen year old great-grandson called me up on a Saturday evening, offering to get up early and come cook me Sunday breakfast, just 'cause he missed his old Pops."
Joey had the grace to flush. "I suppose it is a little obvious," he said.
As always, the shame on his face caused Young Doc to relent a little. "Well, that, and the fact that this ain't my first rodeo. I seen a lot of young'uns in my time. Raised six of my own, and your ma, too, after her daddy got killed on that oil rig out in Texas. So I've seen a bit of everything; it's not easy to put one over on me. And what you want to talk about is even plainer. I reckon there's been a lot of these little conversations, all across the country, this past week."
"You're probably right," Joey said.
"But even so, wasn't no reason for you to come to me," Young Doc said. "I aint your guardian, and even if I had been, you're a man grown now. The law says you're old enough to make up your own mind."
"Yeah, I know. But tell that to my mom."
Young Doc looked sharply at the boy. "Now, I've got to say, that a boy who can't stand up to his mama probably doesn't have any business going off to be a soldier," he said.
"I have stood up to her," Joey said back – and right sharpish, too, Young Doc thought with pride. A boy who wasn't a bit stung by the accusation of being a mama's boy wouldn't become much of a man, in the old man's opinion. "I've stood up to her this whole week. Then finally, yesterday, she said I should come to you for advice, and if you agreed, she'd accept it. That's why, when I called, I asked if you had heard from her this week. I wanted to make sure she hadn't fixed the deal in advance."
"Well, I haven't talked to her," Young Doc said. "And even if I had, I wouldn't have agreed to give you anything less than my honest opinion. Thought you'd have known that, boy."
"I do know," Joey said, looking down at his hands. "But you know Mom. She doesn't fight fair."
"And when have I ever given in to her tears?" Young Doc asked. "Isn't that the reason you've come to stay with me every summer and holiday since you were old enough to be given a choice – because I don't give in when she carries on to get her own way?"
"Yes," Joey answered. "Mostly, I agreed to come talk to you because I trust you to be fair. If you tell me it's a bad idea, you'll have a reason, and I'll listen to it. But if I don't agree, I don't promise to abide by it."
Young Doc nodded, but secretly, it pleased him. That was the attitude of a man, not a boy, and if he went off to fight in this new war that had just been declared, he would need to be a man.
"First, tell me why you want to enlist," Young Doc said.
"Well, part of it is being mad as hell. I mean, who wouldn't be? A sneak attack, on a sleepy Sunday morning when no one was expecting it? Hell, some of our guys didn't even make it out of their berthing compartments. They drowned in their bedrooms when their ship sank! And some of them were no older than I am. But there's more to it than that, Pops. It sounds sentimental to say it but...there really are things worth dying to defend. And I don't want to die, but I do want to defend those things. And that's why I feel like I need to join up."
Young Doc studied his great-grandson for a long moment. He remembered his young half-brother saying almost the same words to him, about another fight, in another part of the world. Tony had died on that far-away island, not of battle injuries but of yellow fever. But he had died doing what he believed was right, and once the first grief was over, Young Doc had never been able to regret letting him go.
He decided.
"Your ma sent you to me for advice," he said. "Well, listen up, 'cause here it is: keep your head down."
Joey waited. After a moment, he said, "That's it? Just 'keep your head down?'"
Young Doc raised his eyebrow. "You expected Will Rogers maybe? Okay, if you insist, here's what he says: 'One sure certainty about out Memorial days, is that as fast as the ranks from one war thin out, the ranks from another take their place.'That's what Will Rogers says, and I've lived long enough to know it's true, so I say, 'keep your head down.'"
Joey studied his great-grandfather as though he had never seen him before.
"That's not what Mom expected you to say," he said.
Young Doc waved his hand carelessly. "Meh. Since when have I ever done what your ma expected?" He dismissed the idea casually. "Point is, I agree that there are things worth defending. I've known that for a long time. I lost my baby brother to one war, and my youngest son to another, and both believed fighting was the right thing to do. So hard as it was, I let them go do it. You believe that this is the right thing to do. I mean, you really believe it, not just patriotic jingoism, or because the girls will love you in a uniform. So I don't have much choice but to let you go, too. It would be nice, however, to think you'll do better than your uncles and come back alive. So my advice is to keep your head down." He smirked a little at his great-grandson. "By the way, my baby brother reliably informed me that girls really do love a man in uniform."
"Pops!" Joey said, laughing a little. "I'm absolutely certain that that's not the advice Mom had in mind."
"No, probably not," the old man agreed, tipping him a wink. "But that doesn't mean it's not a good thing to know."
"I guess not," Joey said. "So, that's it? You'll tell Mom to get off my back?"
"I'm not in charge of your ma anymore," Young Doc said, and a faint hint of regret could be heard as he continued, "not that I'm all that sure I was ever really in charge of her even when I was. If you know what I mean. Your ma always went her own way; in that she was just like her great-great grandma, Scarlett. Did I ever tell you about her, boy?"
"Some," Joey said. "Mostly 'cause of that movie. The one you said was based on her life."
"The book is based on her life," Young Doc said sternly. "The movie...well, it's good, but it skips some things. Important things. If I give you a copy of the book, will you read it?"
Joey looked startled. "I guess I could. But why? I'm not a big reader of historical romances, Pop."
"Because it's mostly true, although Margaret Mitchell did take some liberties." Young Doc said. "And because I want us to go to my cabin and spend a couple of days next week, so I can tell you about the past. When we come back, I want to go to see the movie with you, and after that, I'll go with you to the recruiting office, and you can sign up with my blessing."
"I guess we can do that," Joey said. "If it's so important to you."
"It is," Young Doc said. "I'm eighty years old, boy, and you're going off to fight in a war that any fool can see is going to take a while. I believe you'll come back all right, I really do, but I also believe there's a good chance I won't be here to see it. So before you go, I want to tell you the stories, so that maybe someday you can pass them down to your kids, and they won't be lost forever. Do you see what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I do," Joey said, awkward as young folk always were with emotion and thoughts of death. "So I'll plan on next week at the cabin, and then we'll go see the movie. I read in the paper that it's real long, almost four hours."
"We'll make the time," the old man said, patting his arm.
They had packed the back of the old Model A Ford roadster with camping equipment. Joey had always loved these trips with his Pop, going off in the woods for a few days of roughing it. Of course, it wasn't really all that rough; Young Doc, recognizing that he was an old man and not wanting to risk harm to Joey, had put some money into a few choice upgrades. There was a propane generator that could supply them with electric lights and hot running water; there was even a built-in propane heater that kept the cabin snug in even the coolest North Georgia weather. Often, there were camping trips where none of these luxuries were used, but they were there if needed.
Probably wouldn't be a bad idea to use the heat at least, Joey thought, glancing at his great-grandfather with concern. The old man didn't look sick, exactly; he just looked frailer than in the old days, like he was feeling his years. Joey tried to imagine what it would be like to be eighty years old and feeling your body give out on you, and discovered that he couldn't, not really. The things he told himself about old age were just words; they wouldn't be real to him for many years to come. If ever.
"Well, what you lollygagging around for?" Young Doc asked, standing beside the old car. "We got stuff to unload, and here you sit, daydreaming."
"Just wondering if I can still beat you three games out of four at dominoes, old man," Joey said, hopping out of the car and going around to help bring in the boxes.
"Hmmph. Like I said, daydreaming," the old man said, laughing his thin, cackling laughter. "What's really going to happen is that I'm going to whip you so bad you'll wish you'd stayed home – just like I always have."
The unloading didn't take long; the two had long ago developed the ability to work in tandem. Soon the groceries were stored, the sleeping bags unrolled, the cooler full of icy bottles of coca-cola (and grape Nehi – Joey's personal favorite since childhood) stashed in the corner of the kitchen. Joey lit the propane heater – not asking, just turning to the task as if it were part of their normal routine. The fact that the old man didn't irritably tell him to leave it be probably said more than any words could about how uncomfortable sleeping in the cold and damp would be on his old bones.
Once he accomplished that task, Joey stood and dusted off his hands. Grinning down at his great-grandfather, he said,"Well, Pops? You want supper now, or should I set up the dominoes?"
Young Doc smiled up at him. "I think a little taste of victory will spice my supper up real good," he said. "Set up the game, boy, and get ready for me to leave you in the dust."
Well, what do you think of the first chapter? I realize we haven't gotten to people we really want to hear from yet, Rhett and Scarlett and all of their family and friends. But starting in the next chapter, Young Doctor Joe is going to have a surprising tale to tell about the events that occurred long ago, when he was a young man. I just needed to set up the background, so you would know who he was telling this story to, and why.
Please review if you have any comments or questions. I always love to hear from you. And as always, thanks so much for reading. It makes writing so much more fun to know that someone is interested.