Esteemed Guests
"So who is it that we're meeting?" I asked when we got back to camp.
"The president, most likely." Hauck said. "It would only make sense, right?"
"Sure, but if that's the case then we can expect the army too." Ansel said. "In any case, you'll be right up in front to receive them, Ethan."
"I don't know if this is a good idea." I said. "I'm not exactly the ideal soldier. Are you certain that there's no one else?"
"Nonsense." Hauck scoffed. "Tell your story when you get the chance."
"You will be around others though. Just make sure to give him a good impression of Missouri veterans."
"Come on, Ethan. Time to get to the front of camp." Abe said as he led me forward. It took quite a bit of walking to get through the crowd, but we soon found the welcoming committee.
"Okay, get us those bonuses." Abe said as he slapped my back. "We'll be watching from a distance."
At the front of the camp, a former officer walked up and down the assembled line of men. "Alright boys, there's a lot of people at home counting on us. We must be respectful regardless of our own personal feelings on the depression of the treatment of last year's assembled veterans. Follow commands and above all else keep the president safe."
Moving slowly across the center of D.C. was the presidential entourage. In the middle car was MacArthur, Secretary Perkins, and Eleanor Roosevelt. As the car moved forward, MacArthur chewed on the end of his pipe, obliging the ladies by not smoking in the sealed car. He looked out the window and saw the tent city back exactly where it was last year. The encampment wasn't as large, but former soldiers had shown up from all across the country.
"To think I served with so many of them, and now they are here looking for a free hand out." MacArthur growled.
"We shall soon find out exactly what they want." Perkins said. She had a voice recorder in hand to relay information back to the cabinet and the president.
"Now that we aren't in earshot of Franklin or the rest of the cabinet, why exactly do you have so much disdain for these people?" Eleanor asked.
MacArthur pulled the pipe out of his mouth. "I've been an army man all my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my country and the only thing I ask in return is that people give me the respect my rank deserves. These people, most of them, were drafted. They'd rather be farmers and factory workers. They are soldiers but a different breed. If it weren't for this government and its military, they'd all up shit creek without a paddle, and now they think they can march on this city to demand special treatment? They aren't asking for a job; they aren't asking us to fix everything. They just want the money they'd be getting but twelve years sooner. There's also the issue of communists infiltrating the ranks of this protest. It's the single greatest threat to this country and here we are, tolerating its corrosive presence in our capitol city."
"It would be wise not to speak too much about those things while interacting with these people. That might be what promotes a violent response."
"Relax, ladies. I know when to shut up and listen. It's the first thing you learn in the Army."
"Attention!" The former officer commanded. We all snapped to position, one line on each side of the road. Behind us was the rest of the camp which others were quickly cleaning up to make this protest seem more approachable. Around us and at the ready were companies of infantry. Even at a distance I could tell they were using the same old rifles and a similar uniform. Becoming hostile for any reason would be a stupid move and I kept my eyes peeled for anyone looking to cause trouble.
The motorcade approached the camp cautiously before stopping right in front of the welcoming party. In the third vehicle back the door was opened by military police. Out stepped a man I had only seen before in Newspapers. Doughlas MacArthur. The whole line of us former soldiers instinctively saluted the general as he looked us over. Despite drenched and dirty clothes, hints of our past life as soldiers caught his eye.
MacArthur looked across the crowd before stepping aside. We all expected to see the president next, but instead two women emerged from the car. I only recognized the president's wife because Riley, having only just experienced a political awakening as an adolescent, had become enamored with Eleanor Roosevelt. It was curious though that the president himself did not make an appearance.
"Christ, he sent his wife." One guy next to me said under his breath. If the plan was to make us off-balance, it was working. However, our commander instantly adapted to the new situation.
"General, Mrs. Roosevelt, welcome to our camp."
The three selected diplomats looked around at all of us assembled together. The former officer continued. "Will the president be joining us?" He asked.
Eleanor put on a warm smile. "I'm afraid the president has urgent business at the last minute which required his attention. However, he has entrusted the good general, Secretary Perkins, and me to see to it that your voices are heard in the Whitehouse."
"I see… well, let's get out of this rain, shall we?"
"Lead the way, sir." Eleanor said.
"Alright boys, clear a path for our guests!" He barked. We immediately got to work making a perimeter around the president's wife and gently moving the crowd back until we had a clear line to the big communal tent the camp had constructed.
Trading Stories
Once inside, by pure chance I got pushed into a position where I was near the three diplomats. We were soon enclosed in the tent with me being close to the general. I might have been a soldier at one time, but Douglas MacArthur was already a legend in his own right and he looked the part. I spotted the pipe in his hand and noted that it was made from a corncob.
"Care for a light, general?" I asked, retrieving a lighter from my pocket.
He looked me up and down before smiling. "Of course, a good smoke is a great way to counter this awful weather."
"Indeed, sir." I said as I handed him the lighter. The General had pre-filled his pipe ahead of time and simply lit it up before sitting back in the chair. While others went about talking with Mrs. Roosevelt, MacArthur and I observed each other closely. He noticed the hat I had carried to the large tent.
"You still have your campaign hat?"
"Yes sir. The poor thing has been through a lot, it would feel like a betrayal to let it rot inside a closet."
"Hm." The general replied. "Where are you from, son?"
"Originally, I'm from Butte, Montana sir. A few years ago I moved to St. Louis."
"St. Louis, huh? I was born in Little Rock myself. Got to tour the west as boy right when it was being tamed."
"So I've heard. You formed the 42nd back in '17."
"Quite astute, young man." He replied. "What unit did you serve in?"
I pulled out the photograph Hauck had given me earlier. "A sergeant from another company got this for me. I was in Company B of the 308th Regiment, 77th Division."
His eyes moved down to the photograph and he recognized the significance of that assignment. "You got stuck behind enemy lines."
"For six days, general. But I would do it again if required."
He seemed confused by this, almost like he was expecting a different response. "So why are you here?"
"I was volunteered to come at the behest of the American Legion."
"You were volunteered by others. Who?"
"Mainly my wife." I said with a smile. The general also found it humorous and laughed. "A man should listen to his woman. You're hoping to get a bonus check from Roosevelt?"
"Well, I don't think I served long enough for my own bonus to be worth much. But there are families out west who are starving." I said. I then recalled that he had some roots in Texas as well. "That's especially true for the people in Texas. It's drier than a raisin out there and the dust is getting worse every summer. If you ask me, sir, we could use work. Good, honest, hard work. Then all these good people would be able to feed their families for more than the few months their bonuses would buy."
MacArthur seemed to sit with that for a while as we turned out attention back to the discussion happening between Mrs. Roosevelt and other veterans. An hour passed by of different songs and dances as well as other entertaining skits. The comedy didn't so much come from the jokes as it came from the terrible acting. But just like those days in the army there was entertainment and distraction to be had from improvisors.
Eventually the three diplomats went in their own directions. MacArthur never said anything else to be, but did acknowledge me on his way out of the tent. He apparently was satisfied that the president's wife wasn't in any danger of being threatened or assaulted under his watch. After a while it was Mrs. Roosevelt and the few of us that were left who didn't have other duties to attend to. As the latest song and dance ended, everyone clapped and cheered for the two men who had tried their best to sing their old regimental song.
"Hey Ethan, you got something to sing?" Abe asked from outside the tent.
"Oh, come one guys. I'm not musically inclined."
"I would beg to differ." Mrs. Roosevelt said with a warm smile. Abe outside was telling me of your exploits during the war. What was it like for you?" She asked.
I froze in that instant. The fields of France were never a pleasant memory, but I did recall how it felt then and how it felt now to see the stories fading.
"Well, ma'am. My brother did write something a while back that he sang a couple of times. It's not a song, but it is more of a poem."
"Go for it, young man. Close out our meeting with something to remember. Tell us your story."
"Something to remember…" I thought. Well, this was a once in a lifetime chance to do something for others. To convince the president's wife of everyone's plight. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, struggling to remember the words. A couple of verses came to mind.
"From the Mountains of Montana to the Streets of St. Louis,
I've always worked each day God sent as best I'm able.
While both me and crops they failed, those damn wolves came to my door.
And I couldn't put no food upon a table. So time to step up boy and be a man.
So they stuck me neath a helmet and put a gun into my hand.
Saying "it's time to step up boy, your country needs ya!"
They rounded us up like slaughter, and they shipped us all to hell.
Saying "what doesn't kill you boy is gonna free ya!"
I pretend it never happened when I can.
These days I walk the city, where the streets don't know my name.
People say, "Time to move on boy, cause no one needs ya."
And though I've struggled hard to save, our money's turned no good.
And soon there's not gonna be enough to feed them!
So someone better pray that luck means justice,
Because I'll be no forgotten man."
On the closing line of the poem, you could hear a pin drop. What had been a fun exercise in entertainment a few moments before had become a serious commentary on the situation.
"Well that killed the mood…" Abe said, but I quickly looked at him then to Mrs. Roosevelt.
"Ma'am, I have a family back in St. Louis. My sister has become enamored with you and I for one am happy to see that this teenage girl can look at someone in Washington with genuine admiration that's been earned and won't be so callously thrown away like a lot of other politicians do on the daily. Just about everyone here has a family to support and that's exactly what we aim to do, with or without the government. However, if you ask me this country could use some real leadership. Give us pay, put us to work, do whatever you must do to help start this economy again. But please don't turn your backs on these people. Don't turn away from their families, and don't turn away from my sister. I want her to live in a world where she can do great things, and we're not going to get there arguing about how much a soldier's sacrifice was worth."
I looked down and away, feeling defeated. The blank expressions told me most didn't quite understand what I was trying to say. But then a hand reached out and took mine. I looked up and Mrs. Roosevelt was looking in my eyes. Her smile was gone but there was not a hint of anger. Instead her face was still warm and welcoming, almost motherly.
"Ethan, I will make sure that something is done. I don't know what just yet, but I won't let my husband walk away from all these good people." She said before standing up. "Miss Perkins, I think we got what we needed."
Decisions
"Well, I hope this works." Ansel said as we watched the motorcade drive back to the Whitehouse.
"At least the rain stopped." Abe said. "I just wish it was raining in St. Louis."
"You think they'll do something about us?" Hauck asked me as he pulled out another cigarette.
"I guess we'll either be moved out by force or offered something." I said. "I can't help but feel like it wasn't enough."
"You said your brother wrote that poem?" Abe asked.
"Rocky wrote it. I only said what I remembered." I said. "I think it sums up our feelings quite well, which is amazing because he was never in war."
"We'll find out in the morning." Ansel said before yawning. "I need to turn in early, it's been a long journey."
"Indeed it has." Hauck said before turning to me. "Well, if I don't see you again, Ethan Kelly, thanks for doing your best. No one can ask for more than that. I need to turn in as well, I'm not feeling so great."
"Told you to put a hat on, sarge." I said, shaking his hand. "But in any case, take care."
"By the way, I wrote down my contact information on the back of that photo. If you ever feel the desire, go ahead and send a letter."
The delegation sent to hear out the bonus army got back into the Whitehouse and immediately made their way into the Oval Office where FDR was signing papers. Next to FDR was Frank Hines of the Veterans Administration. He looked up when he saw his wife enter.
"I trust all went well?" He said, also looking at MacArthur.
"We met them in the camp and I have to say some were every bit the soldiers I once knew in Europe." MacArthur said, taking off his coat and sitting down.
"They gave us a salute on the way in." Secretary Perkins said.
"We have to give them something to work with, Franklin." Eleanor said, sitting down in front of the resolute desk."
"We can't give them their bonuses, dear." FDR said, adjusting his glasses and putting away his pen. "Woodin is quite clear on that. We can't afford it."
"Well, they aren't going to go away empty-handed. One made that quite clear." Eleanor said in response.
"Perhaps we put them to work." MacArthur said, chewing on his now smoldering pipe. Perkins looked at MacArthur and smiled.
"Maybe we could put together an organization that can help these people find labor."
"In better days that might have been a good idea, but there's no work right now." FDR refuted. "And most of those men are too old to do things like fetch and carry."
"Perhaps, but if this Conservation Work Program we've been building is going to succeed, we are going to need people with experience at carrying out orders and showing the younger men and boys how to do jobs." Hines said.
"Mixing the veterans with the new recruits is a bad idea. They'll slow down productivity and they might introduce our younger men to radical ideas. But I do think putting them to work is a practical solution." MacArthur added.
FDR smiled as he saw the idea forming together. "I will have a modification to our Emergency Work Program drafted tonight and ready for tomorrow's cabinet meeting. We'll put these veterans in positions of responsibility throughout the program, and this will lessen the burden of the military."
The next day, at noon, someone called for us all to meet at the large tent once more. As many as possible gathered around as a member of the Whitehouse staff stood up on a podium with MacArthur and Secretary Perkins behind him.
"Gentlemen, gather round please. I am Frank Hines of the Veterans Administration. The president has made a decision regarding your unfortunate situation."
"Well, here it comes." Abe said as he stood next to me in the crowd. The man at the podium cleared his throat and decided to go off-script.
"Due to the financial state of the government, we cannot and will not be cashing out bonuses at this time…"
A collective groan made its way out through the crowd, but the man raised his hands. "Hold on, hold on! Let me finish please. We heard you yesterday, we ask that you hear us now."
Everyone hushed each other in the crowd before the man continued.
"We need people with experience at working and experience as soldiers to help in the construction of certain projects around the country. This morning the President has officially expanded the scope of the original work program to include special assignments exclusively for veterans. We've established a goal to employ up to 25,000 veterans in camps across the country. You can expect a monthly pay of thirty-five dollars, most of that money will be going back to your families."
Hines paused to let the information sink in before he continued. "Should any of you wish to join this program, we require that you return home and sign up through your local veteran's administration office. Once we've compiled a list of candidates, we will send out recruitment notices. Our goal is to get as many veterans as possible working by July. At this moment in time this is all we can offer you. Good day, and I hope that this inclusion in the new work program will assist in keeping your families all fed."
Just before he left the podium, Hines turned around. "By the way, is Ethan Kelly here?"
"Right here, sir!" I said, raising my hand.
"Mrs. Roosevelt requested that I give you this." He said as I walked up to the podium. Hines continued as he pulled out a book from his bag. "Personally I'm not a fan, but I was told your little sister likes our first lady and she wanted to give her something to inspire her."
"Thank you, sir. And my compliments to Mrs. Roosevelt. As well as to the good general." I said, looking up at MacArthur. "I may have been drafted in the war right out of school, but I would gladly follow a good man to the gates of hell if it meant this nation and its people would be safe."
As the delegation left, the feeling in the camp was mixed.
"We should stay and demand those bonuses!" Abe said out of frustration.
"No, we should go home. If we get home quickly, we can tell the others at the American Legion about this program. Get as many people back to work as possible."
"But what about the money they owe us?" Abe protested.
"Abe, there is no money to give." I said.
"I agree. And besides, it would be better to have a steady income than a single check. I need to be able to feed my kids for the next decade, not just the next few months." Ansel said before returning to the tent. "Come on, boys. We better get packed up."
Off To Work
As I stepped out of the station, my family was there to greet me along with other members of the local American Legion. Sprinting down the steps, I immediately hugged and kissed Bella before doing the same for Riley and hugging Rocky as well as Joseph.
"So, did you get your bonus from the government?" Riley asked.
"Not quite, but you know who I got to meet?"
"Who?"
"Mrs. Roosevelt herself!" I said, smiling.
"Really!"
"And she had something she wanted me to give you." I said, giving Riley the book. "I read parts of it, and while I don't agree with everything she argues for, I think you're plenty old enough to make your own choices in this world. All I ask is that instead of taking everything she says as gospel that you learn from what she has to say just as how Mrs. Roosevelt learned from the three thousand veterans on the Capitol lawn."
"So besides a book, what did you manage to drum up?" Rocky asked.
"It looks like I'm going to work within a few weeks. FDR has called for twenty-five thousand veterans to join this new work program, and that means we will have a guaranteed thirty-five dollars a month for the stuff we can't grow or build."
"Wait, you're leaving again?" Bella asked as she hugged me a second time.
"I know, Bella. It's not what I want to do, but what choice do we have? I'll likely be able to take leave to come back on occasion and it won't be forever."
"Well, if you must go then we better enjoy the time together as much as we can." She said, pulling me along. I couldn't agree more.
Working for the CCC
A month later I got a call from the VA office. I had been selected, and I wondered if my former service had something to do with that. I was soon on a westbound train to a camp out in the mountains. Away from family, away from my love, and away from the home I had grown fond of since moving there in 1927. But this was necessary, or so I told myself. While traveling out, I opened up a notebook and began penning a letter to Roselyn in Butte. Coincidentally my assignment was up in Montana, though I could assume that I'd be moving around on occasion. In any case, it would be nice to have at least one person in the area I could communicate with. She deserved to know where Derrick ended up.
Finishing the letter, I folded it up and placed it in an envelope. Something told me that it was wrong to even say hello to my one-time friend, but something else told me that this was necessary. I decided I would send the letter out as soon as I had a return address that wasn't halfway across the country.