The Hard Life of a Miner
The drill pounded away behind me. Deep down in the mine, we worked day and night to keep the copper moving. Not that we could tell the difference. Besides some light bulbs and carbide lamps, there was no light. If anything went wrong, we were a half mile under the mountain. On the surface that wouldn't feel too far away. Heck, it wouldn't even be halfway across town. But down in the depths where the rock was warm, it was like we were closer to Hell than Heaven. Still, the miners do their work. Any who are scared quickly learns to hide it lest they get ran off the job. A scared miner is a dangerous miner, and if you're digging scared this far down you are liable to make a mistake that kills more than just yourself.
But that's the reality of the situation. When I find fear is creeping in on my thoughts, and the darkness seems to close in on us, the foreman has but one thing to say. "Turn up your carbide flame," and be the light in the darkness. It's hard work down here for sure, but there is camaraderie. Anyone who makes it past the first few weeks in the copper mine finds themselves amongst the most loyal of friends. The driller now has a fresh pile and its up to us younger lads to load the carts. Each wagon holds 2 tons of ore, and we're able to make short work of the fresh pile. Soon there's a dozen carts ready for the air locomotive to wheel away down the hastily laid track.
"Man, I hate this work." Derrick says, pulling out a rag to wipe the sweat from his face. We went to school together. High school sucked for the first few weeks without Fred around to keep an eye on me, but Derrick seemed to show up out of nowhere. He lived on the west side of town, so it was hard to meet up outside of class or work, but it was always nice to have him around. He despised working for the mine far more than me and was always praying to find an opportunity that would get him out of here.
"Yeah, it ain't fun. But what else are we going to do in town?" I replied, leaning on my shovel while passing him a canteen.
"I don't know, run a brothel or something?" He joked.
"I don't think we're cut out to run such an establishment, Derrick."
"Well, what do you suggest?" He said after taking a long drink from the can.
"I've always fancied farming. It's honest work, and not nearly as hard as this. Half the year is fixing stuff, the other half is planting and harvesting."
"Yeah, and what are you going to grow around here? Hay? Face it Ethan, we either work in the mine or we work up top in some place that supplies the mine."
"Well, when you buy a brothel, just let me know. Maybe I can get you booze or something."
"Alright boys, back to work!" The foreman yelled down the tunnel. We instantly got back to piling ore while another train of mine carts came into view.
It's rinse and repeat for hours back-to-back, but eventually the shift is over. Climbing into the elevator, we ascend. The air becomes cooler, and after a while the scents of the surface world greet us. The afternoon sun gives us its salutations as the cage door opens and we step out on top of the richest hill on Earth. As I walk home, the rubble from the Union Hall sits in stark reminder of how much things have changed in four years. Four long, hard years. For three of those years I was working in the mine, and it almost seemed to pass me in a blur. Without Uncle Michael and Fred to help out, things at home haven't exactly been smooth sailing.
After a while, I make it down to Placer Street by the creek. The lights of the city glow above us, and we're down here near the tracks and the scrub brush. As I walk up to the porch, the familiar face of Sean is there, tears in his young eyes.
"It's dad again, isn't it?"
"Uh huh…" He sniffles in reply. I sit down next to my brother.
"Where's Liam?"
"Dad's giving him the business right now. Ethan, I don't know what happened that made him so mad, we didn't do anything. Honest!"
"Okay, well, you stay out here. I'll send Liam to join you. I just wish Mom would put a stop to this." I get up, pat his head, and take a deep breath before walking in the door. I'm not my cousin, as much as I try to be. But God help the poor soul who hurts my family, even if that person is my drunken, rage-filled father. Stepping through the threshold I'm greeted with the sight of Liam getting smacked with a belt. He's been bruised and beaten far more than usual. He used to do the same to me but has since moved onto younger targets.
"What did I do Dad?!" Liam pleads, but father is far too drunk to give a coherent reply. Instead he winds up for another smack, but I catch the belt before he can unleash it. "What the hell are you doing to my brother, Dad?!"
For the first time all day a sober thought seems to enter his head. "Mind your mouth, boy."
"Why don't you beat me instead then, old man? I just got done loading 12 tons and I'll happily tangle—" My mouth did seem to get the best of me though because before I knew it a fist connected with my jaw. Dad wasn't exactly big, but like a true Irishman he was as stout and strong as a mule. Unfortunately for him, I was more stubborn and had gotten good at fighting drunks. Soon we found ourselves wrestling in the street.
"Sean, get Liam and make yourselves scarce!" I ordered. Sean did as told and immediately went to gather up our brother before retreating someplace where they wouldn't endure any more horrible treatment for the day. However, I was quickly finding out that while I had youth on my side, Dad was far more experienced fighting while drunk than I was at fighting sober. It wasn't exactly an uncommon sight to see us fighting in some capacity out in the street. The cops quit bothering to show up and people eventually left us to sort things out in the only way my old man seemed to know. In fact, there was only one person who could still intervene, Mom. And no sooner had we started getting into it that I found myself being hit over the head with a broom.
"Ethan Kelly! Get off your father this instant!"
"Ah, look who just showed up! And where were you while Liam was getting whipped with a belt!"
"Don't talk to your mother like that, Ethan. She works very hard."
"As do I! In fact, the only one who doesn't anymore is you, Dad!" I spat while getting up. "Still, all the drink in the world doesn't excuse you hurting my kin."
"I'm your kin! In fact, I'm your father, and those are my boys. I'm raising them just like how I raised you." Dad shot back.
"And how's that working out for you? Or are you too drunk to understand that I despise you almost as much as I despise that copper mine?!"
"Ethan, enough!" Mom ordered as she pulled me away. I wasn't exactly happy with her either.
"And as for you Mom, what makes you think it's a good idea to leave us alone with that monster?"
"Your father is a good man, Ethan. He's just… Ever since Michael died, he's been grieving…"
"That's hogwash and you know it, mom. He was beating me before that. All that's happened is he's gotten worse."
"Yes, well… wait, who's been watching Riley?"
"I don't know, I just got home. Why don't you ask your husband? I'm going to go see how many teeth Liam still has left."
"Help your father up first. I'll check on the baby and go through the mail." Mom ordered as we watched my dad stumble around in the mud.
"Let him rot." I muttered before leaving. I could hear my mother sigh at the sight. While she was by no means a bad person, she was too in love with what was once a respectable man. Whoever he was back then though is a mystery to me, because for most of my life this had been the story.
A Dream of Days to Come
I pushed those thoughts out of my mind as I walked down to the stream. Fortunately, my brothers liked a lot of the hiding spots I once did. Soon enough, I found them under the same tree I used for shade years ago when I had time to pass a Sunday afternoon fishing. Liam was washing his face in the creek.
"Glad you finally figured out to wash in the clean waters upstream of the sewage." I commented, though they weren't much in the mood for a light-hearted conversation.
Sean looked up to me. "Did you finally give dad the beating of a lifetime?"
"No, mom got there and stopped us. Can't believe she still takes his side after all this time. I'm all for a loyal marriage, but Jesus Christ, if Dad gets any worse, he's going to put us all in an early grave."
"Yeah, if his liver doesn't give out first." Liam said while spitting out some blood.
"Come here, Liam. Let me have a look at ya."
I examined his face. No permanent damage, but the idea that any man, drunk or not, beating his son like this on the daily made my blood run cold. But cold blood wasn't what the situation required. Cold water was far more helpful. As we all calmed down, I could see the two of them starting to cry. For Liam I'm pretty sure it was the feeling coming back to his cheeks, and for Sean it was fear.
"Alright, come here you two." I said as I gathered them up. They were far too big for me to scoop up like when they were kittens, but all the same I knew they liked nothing more than to lay their heads on my chest as I held them close.
"Ethan, when are we getting out of here?"
"As soon as we can, Liam. But it's hard to make enough money. Plus, where would we go?"
"We could go to the Judith River." Sean suggested, wiping his nose.
"Yeah, that place is pretty." Liam added.
"So you two want to be cowboys then?"
"It beats being a miner." Sean answered.
"You know, I ran into a cowboy once in a bar. He came from Belle Fourche. Didn't seem any better off than us. I reckon that the work is just as hard, only a little bit different."
"What if we built a raft and let the Jefferson carry us?" Liam suggested.
"I'm not sure mom would approve. Besides, wherever we go, Riley comes with, right?"
"Oh yeah…"
"We can't leave our baby sister to the same fate."
"Do you think Dad would hurt her?"
"Sean, I don't know if Dad will even know the difference between us kids in a few years. At the rate he's going through liquor he'll have no eyesight left."
"Maybe we should dress up some coatracks as us and let him beat the furniture instead?" Liam joked. That got all three of us to laugh. Mostly because it could work some days.
I pulled them even closer, one brother tucked under each arm as the sun began to sink lower in the sky. Both Sean and Liam had fallen asleep, my presence assuring them that they'd be safe enough for a cat nap. Dad was rarely sober these days, but when he was the man was mostly focused on his own grief. He had even admitted once or twice to regretting how he treats us. But it wasn't enough to stop him from getting drunk, and after the whiskey went down that Irishman got mean. I could almost forgive him for beating me, but doing the same to my brothers was beyond the pale.
The clouds passed us by overhead, moving east over the mountain ridge. Sometimes I wish I could sail on one of those clouds just like those aviators. I could sail for miles and miles, leaving my troubles behind. Of course, my siblings would come with me. I'd even bring mom if she could let dad go. Sail on to the Midwest, build a farm, raise some chickens and grow some corn, settle down to a quiet life. But that would have to remain a dream. In the meantime my reality was working and fighting, though my brothers made it worth the trouble. Stretching my arms, I woke them both up with a deep breath.
"Alright, I suppose we should help mom with dinner. Plus Riley is bound to need something."
"Hopefully dad's asleep." Sean said while getting up.
"I could smell his breath from the other side of the house." Liam replied. "I'm sure he's passed out in the bedroom."
Walking back into the house, things were indeed quiet. When I went to see mom though, it became apparent that the quiet was only recently achieved. She had a bruise on her face.
"Mom, did he hit you?!" I seethed. Every fiber wanted me to stick a shotgun right up his backside and blow my father away.
"Your father didn't know what he was doing, Ethan. You're right to call him drunk, I found all the bottles."
"Seemed pretty intentional to me when he was whipping Liam with a belt."
"Well, it's done now. Your father is asleep and should be for the rest of the night."
"Good, because if he dares show his face and tries to give a half-assed apology, I swear I'll—"
"You'll do nothing, Ethan. Getting into fights with him will only make things worse. Now here, hold your sister while I get the stove going."
Uncle Sam Comes Calling
Besides my brothers, Riley may as well have been the sun and stars for me. Her smile was as wide as the Montana sky with eyes just as blue. All three of us boys fussed over her like mother hens, and God help anyone who tried to hurt her. Not even Dad would be safe from our wrath if he ever thought about taking a belt to that beautiful face. As she sat on my knee giggling and gurgling, Mom shoved a letter in front of my face.
"This one's for you, dear. Something from the county."
Curious, I opened it up. I was expecting to see a bill, or perhaps a citation for fighting in the street with Dad. Instead, the heading greeted me, and I lost all sense of feeling in my fingers.
"Order to report for armed forces physical examination."
No, that couldn't be right. I had only put my name in the hat a month ago! But as I read through the document, it became clear. I was the "lucky" winner in a recent lottery, and my prize was going to be fighting in Europe.
"Mom… it's a draft notice." I said. Mom got up from lighting the stove. "What?"
"Draft letter. Here, see for yourself." I said, sticking it in her face. I couldn't even make eye contact. Instead I just looked into the building flames inside the cast iron chamber. Part of me wanted to throw the letter into the fire and pretend I never read it.
"Oh no…" Is all she said before rushing into the back unexpectedly. Now Liam and Sean were interested. "Ethan, what is it."
"It's a letter saying I've been selected for the draft. Guys, I'm going to Europe to fight in the war."
"No, Ethan. We need you here! It must be some kind of mistake."
"Uncle Sam doesn't make mistakes, Sean. Not for this. I had a low draft number, the odds were always good that I'd be called up. I just wish the letter didn't get delayed in the mail, I would have had more time to get ready."
The next day I was standing in front of the exam station. I tried to think of something, anything at all that could get me out of this, but the whole thing felt like a bad dream. The only problem was I wasn't waking up. After a short exam by the doctor, I was declared healthy and given new orders. Report to the Northern Pacific depot at 9 a.m.
Of course, one silver lining is I didn't have to go to work that day. Instead, I got to sit at home and spend some precious few hours with my brothers. As evening rolled around, my dad got drunk yet again. This time though he didn't dare get drunk enough to challenge me. As long as I was there, my brothers would be safe. Hell, I might just kill him to get out of the draft. Surely, I could be declared insane, or perhaps find a way to prove that it was justified. Mom would probably disown me for it though. So instead, while dad sat on the couch, I packed my bags. I wasn't going to need much. We could only bring a precious few personal items into the training camp anyway.
"Ethan…" Dad mumbled.
"Yeah, dad?"
"You're really going to Europe, boy?"
"I think so."
"Maybe you'll finely be put to good use instead of being a disappointment."
"That's it? That's all you have to say to me? Your own son is going off to war, and even now you can't help but try and get a rise out of me. Well, not this time. I need to save my energy for more important matters."
Dad shot me a deadly glare. How much of this was the alcohol talking and how much of it was him was unknown. "You've got a smart mouth and no respect for your father."
"I respect those who deserve it. You, dad, do nothing except sit here, get drunk, and slap us around. I don't respect you because as far as I'm concerned, you aren't my father."
That seemed to hurt him, despite his drunken state. Hell, I know it stung. But what was there left to say? Well, there was one thing to say. "And if you ever beat my brothers that badly again, or if you as so much as pluck a hair from Riley, I'll end you when I return. You can count on it!" I threatened. Maybe, just maybe, that could protect them in my absence.
The next day, I rose with the sun and waited for my brothers to get up. We all shared a room. On winter nights we even shared a bed. I couldn't wait any longer, so I woke them both up.
"Ethan… it's early." Sean said, yawning in the middle of his sentence.
"I know, and I'm sorry. But I have to leave and get to the train station."
"Already?" Liam asked while rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah, train leaves at 9:30."
"I don't want you to go." Liam replied, tears were starting to form in both our eyes.
"I don't want to either, buddy. But I don't have a choice. Now look, before I leave, I need to tell you both a couple of things so pay attention."
Two sets of ears immediately turned in my direction.
"Now, whatever happens to me, you two stick together. Okay? And protect Riley at all costs. I don't care what you have to do, keep her safe. I won't be around to bail you out any more, so you boys are now in charge of the house. Lastly, don't you ever forget that I love you both so much. I'll be back as soon as I'm able, but it could be a while."
"Could you die over there?" Sean asked fearfully.
"I might. But I promise you, I won't die without a fight. If there is any way I can get back to you two, and mom, and Riley, then you can count on me finding my way home." I then hugged them both tightly for what felt like ten seconds but was probably ten minutes. Mom had already gone to work, so I left her a note. Checking on Riley, she was fast asleep. I couldn't help but kiss her on the forehead before quietly exiting. I checked in on dad, he was asleep. I prayed he was just sober enough last night to understand my threat, because I was deadly serious. If he hurt them, I'd drown him in the creek in front of the whole neighborhood when I got back. If I got back.
After being checked in, I was loitering around when I felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning around, I was surprised to see the fluffy face of Derrick. We had entered into the draft at the same time.
"Oh, don't tell me you got the draft notice too?" I asked.
"How'd ya guess?" He replied. "But hey, whatever gets me out of this town."
"You do realize we're being sent into a meat grinder, right?" I questioned. Apparently, my friend didn't read the paper much.
"Oh sure we are, but we're Montanans! Look around the room, at least a few of us are going to make it through. Heck, the war might be over by the time we get there."
"I wouldn't count on it, but how is it that you're so optimistic and happy? We're about to be thrown into a war."
"Not just any war. The war to end all wars!" Derrick exclaimed as the coach door opened and we filed into it.
"Somehow, I doubt this will be the last one. It'll be the last one I fight in though; I can guarantee you that." I said as we sat down.
"Well, I'm just happy to get out of here. There's nothing tying me down here anyway except my debt to the company. And guess what? That debt just got erased. They can't touch my paycheck and you can bet I won't be showing my face around Butte when we get out."
"Then I guess there is a silver lining. Just wish I could say the same for myself."
Two long blasts of the whistle signaled our departure. While I dreaded what came next, it was great to see the countryside. We first climbed up over Homestake Pass, winding between scrubby-looking trees and boulders almost the size of a steam shovel. Then we cruised across the high prairie, past Bozeman, and down the pass to Livingston. As the sun set behind us somewhere near Glendive, I couldn't help but think of who I was leaving behind. One way or another, I had to survive. My family needed me.