"Someone better pray that luck means justice, because I'll be no forgotten man."
Post 312
"I don't know if this is really a good idea." I said to Bella as we pulled into the parking lot.
"Nonsense, Ethan. You're a veteran just like the rest of them. They might well need you." She said, kissing me on the cheek. After three years of depression things were getting lean, but we were all still together and determined to hold on no matter what. Rocky was watching the kids tonight and the lovebirds were busy with their own, so it was just Bella and myself tonight.
Getting out of the car, we noticed a fog held in the damp spring air. Some rain had come and gone each summer now but every year I noticed that drought would creep just a little bit further down into the river valley our farm was located in. Out west things were far worse, but at least we could rely on groundwater around here. I still couldn't plant crops though, it was just our big garden that required any sort of attention. A lighted sign overhead told us exactly where we were.
"American Legion Post 312, St. Charles, MO"
I had only come here a handful of times in the last few years, mostly to get some national news. With wife in hand, I opened the door and we ventured inside. The Legion looked like many others. It was a community center of sorts, only in recent years the other veterans had been working on ways to keep their families fed. This meeting didn't seem to be any different. We sat down in the back while the Post's leadership spoke from the podium. The cat was older than most of us and had been a veteran of the military for twenty years. Now retired, the cat had quickly risen through the ranks of the Legion and was now our commander.
"Gentlemen, we must send representatives to the new administration." Claude said, striking his fist on the podium for emphasis. A lot of members agreed, but there were others who felt otherwise.
"Sir, last year's march was an unmitigated disaster. Not just for those who went, but all veterans and the American Legion."
"I'll admit the bond march last year didn't help our case any. We got crooks in Washington calling us commies." Claude added, attempting to win over the crowd.
"Ah, hell Commander. That's what Patton of all people thinks we are. The politicians think even less of us."
I looked at Isabella, expecting to see her understand just how fruitless this milling about was going to be, but instead she stood fast and looked at me with an expectation that I would say something.
"The new administration might be more open to hearing our demands if we join this year's bonus army." One of the members argued. "We've got no work, our families are slowly starving, and nothing has been done now for three years. Surely the new president will listen."
"I doubt it." Another cat said. "FDR is just like the rest of him. All smiles and promises until it comes time to do something. He won't stand up for us, I'm certain of that."
"I'm pretty sure he won't stand up for anything." A guy retorted. "But that doesn't mean FDR has written us off. Perhaps if we get a congressman on our side…"
"No one is listening and no one knows what to do. Come on people, the feds are out of money and pulling their hair out just to keep the country in one piece. We're forgotten men." A cat still in his uniform spoke out. "Let's focus our efforts on communal gardens, sharing around food and supplies, and anything else that might help us directly."
"Look, people. We need to try." Claude argued. "Our reputation will be no worse for wear if we go. But we need to send some people out to Washington and try to get us something. There's enough of us here to keep the post going."
"If it is the will of this body of veterans, I will volunteer to go." A former corporal said as he rose up. "Are there any commissioned officers who will join me?"
"I will, Abe." Another cat said, standing up. "Anyone else?"
"I volunteer my husband." Isabella said, taking both me and the gathered body of men by surprise.
"Will Ethan go, Mrs. Kelly?" Claude asked from the podium.
"Well, will you?" She asked me, holding her hand out to help me up.
"I, uh, you know there's a lot to do around here. I'm more of a gardener these days plus the boys could use help keeping their car—"
"That's complete nonsense and you know it, my love." Isabella said as she kissed me. Leaning in, she whispered in my ear. "Go tell those people in Washington your story, they'll listen to someone like you."
All eyes were now upon me. Put on the spot, I didn't really have much choice. Sighing, I cracked my neck and cleared my throat. "My personal feelings aside on the matter, I do agree with our commander. Something has to be done. Being a delegate is not something I've ever been good at, but—"
"Are you kidding? Remember that tornado years back?" One of the cats asked the gathered veterans. "I still got the clipping somewhere. Ethan Kelly with his family digging out victims of the twister while Old Glory waved in the background. Show some politicians that picture and they'll be eating out of your hand, Ethan."
"That was one time, guys." I tried to rebuttal but I was quickly cut off.
"Ethan, I'd rather have you representing us than some guy from the upper crust. What do you say, boys?"
Claude smiled and looked directly at me. "Looks like we have our volunteers. Let's put this to a vote, shall we?"
"Dammit, Bella, that was not a good idea." I said as we got back in the car.
"Ethan, whether you like it or not those men need someone who can speak for them. You've told me about your service and your life. There's no one who represents these people better."
"What about Rocky and the kids? I'd be leaving them alone for possibly months."
"We'll be okay. Besides, I have a feeling that it won't take that long. The 'bonus army' is already in Washington, right?"
"I guess. The other Legions are likely having their own debates right now. Wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if St. Louis alone sent a hundred representatives."
"And what about you?" I asked. "We haven't been apart for more than a few days before."
"I'll be okay, Ethan. Rocky is here if I need something done. If there's even a one percent chance you can help all these families out, why wouldn't you do it?"
"Because… because I don't want all these good people to be represented by a killer and a criminal. They deserve better."
"They just chose you, which means they muse think differently. If nothing else you've always wanted to go east, right?"
"Yeah, with you!" I said, holding Bella's head in my hands.
"Find some little spot we can go vacationing someday." She said, kissing me. "And maybe go find Derrick. You said he was in Arlington, right?"
"Last I heard that's where he was buried." I said. "If I find him, I'll have to send a letter to his old girlfriend to let her know where he is."
"See, still helping people even years after you've last seen them. That's who I married."
"If you want me to go, Bella. I will." I said while starting the car up. "Train leaves tomorrow."
The Bonus Army
The big driving wheels of the locomotive pulled us along at a pretty good clip. After changing trains in Chicago, a bunch of us veterans met up with others from different Legion posts and the VFW chapters. By now we were indeed a small army descending on Washington D.C. via the Capitol Limited. At fifteen dollars a ticket we didn't exactly have first-class service but we also didn't need it. Almost to a man we were used to sleeping on cots out in the field.
Watching the trees zip past us and giving me a good glimpse of the Potomac River, I sat back in the coach chair and thought about where people were now. There wasn't many of us who walked out of the Argonne after spending a week behind enemy lines, and after the death of Whittlesey I had stopped keeping track of where people went. Keeping a list of all the names in the Battalion was more of a job than I could dedicate time to. I was sure the rest of them were out there, somewhere, but running into one was unlikely. At least that's what I thought until someone said my name.
"Private Kelly, is that you?"
I turned me head and recognized the face immediately. "Sergeant Hauck, sir!" I said, standing up to shake his hand. Hauck had been in another company but was known to most of us by then.
"How have you been, Ethan?" He asked while sitting down next to me. "The last I heard about you was at the parade in New York."
"Well, it's been a busy couple of decades, sir. I'm in St. Louis now."
"Ah, so that must be where the train picked you up. I was in Chicago myself when the VFW chapter asked me to come along."
We both looked out the window a while, listening to the conversations of others. It was still isolating to be one of the few who actually went through that awful week in 1918 but at least I wasn't alone. "So, how'd the leg heal up?" I asked, gesturing to the man's left knee. He did have a cane but seemed to move around well.
"Never quite was the same after a Mauser bullet went shattered my tibia, but it works well enough. How you of all people made it out in one piece is a mystery only God knows."
"If I'm honest, Sarge, I can barely recall a lot of that battle. Once Derrick died, I just focused on staying alive."
"We all did, Ethan. You though, holy shit. Everyone else was hunkered down but you. I still remember when those kraut "stormtroopers" showed up with their flamethrowers. Do you remember what you did then?"
I closed my eyes and thought about it. Yes, I remembered exactly what I did. "I shot at their heads and then their tanks."
"And they lit up like a Christmas tree soaked in gasoline!" Hauck finished for me. "You were the cat those Germans feared most. Some distant relations live in Germany and they told me about this ghost story they heard from veterans of the war over there."
I could hardly believe that people were still talking about that, even if it was more like something a grizzled veteran would talk about after some beer around the campfire. In any case, Hauck lit up a cigarette and offered me one. "After that I thought for sure you would have a career in the army."
"Honestly, between the mines and the battlefield it was dangerous either way." I said while lighting the cig in my mouth. "But I didn't want to be away from my family for so long."
"None of us did, but you got back to… Montana, right?"
"Yeah, Butte. We left there in 1927 though and I haven't been back since."
"And now you're in St. Louis! Amazing. How's the city life been treating ya?"
"Actually, we got a little farm. Can't grow anything right now, but nobody is coming to take the property away. When everyone else started taking out loans to keep their operations afloat I just decided to let the grass grow back into the field and wait it out until the market improves."
"I tried to do the same thing in New York but there was more work to be had in Chicago."
"So what do you do now, Sarge?"
"Eh, I just work for a shipping company on the lake. Work has been almost nonexistent though, so that's why I'm out here. If we can get FDR to release our bonds early, I might be able to keep the wife and kids fed for another year."
"See, that's what worries me. Last year's march was a disaster and I'm glad I stayed out of it. I don't think we're going to see a penny from the government and this will have been a waste of time."
"So why are you here, then?" He asked.
"My wife wanted me to go." I said
Hauck smiled and laughed. "Well, son, you have your orders."
By now the countryside had given way to houses and streets. The train started coasting and then started braking oh, so gently until we were going at yard speed. Looking out the window, Washington D.C. loomed near. After switching tracks and waiting for clearance, the crew brought our long train into the Washington Union Station. Hauck got up and grabbed his cane before shaking my hand.
"I better go make sure no one takes my luggage. Good luck, Ethan Kelly. These men need veterans like us."
"So I've been told. Take care, sarge!" I said, giving him a salute as he walked off.
"Who was that?" Abe asked me.
"That's Sergeant George Hauck. He was in the 77th in Company G."
"Wait, we had two people from the Lost Battalion in the same car and didn't even bother to take a picture?" Abe said, shocked at the missed opportunity.
"Oh, don't sweat it. Considering how many people claim to be part of the battalion it wouldn't even make the news around here."
"Who would lie about that?"
"Anyone looking for recognition and fame. Hell, apparently Capone has told people he was part of the battalion. If I ever got the chance, I'd show that little bastard what a real soldier can do." I said before catching myself and realizing I probably shouldn't be bringing up certain associations from my past. "Anyway, personally I'd rather just be Ethan Kelly, a doughboy draftee who did his service and went home."
"Well, now you are Ethan Kelly, deputized officer of American Legion Post 312, St. Charles MO. Let's go help our brothers in arms, shall we?"
"Lead the way." I said.
We disembarked from the train and went up to the street. Before us all was the capitol city of our nation, the District of Columbia, which bore the name of General Washington. While there were plenty of marble structures and other inspiring sights around us, there were also signs of decay. The streets were lined with dirt and litter. People begged on the sides of the street. And in the distance was a large tent city. Only this tent city wasn't full of vagrants. The tents were lined with flags from units all across the nation. The bonus army had arrived again and this time the men who volunteered to come were not going to leave empty-handed.