May 20, 2023 • 19 mins
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Naguib Mahfouz, Egyptian literature, existentialism, identity, love, relationships, social commentary, cultural norms, social class, personal growth, literary style, literary legacy, literary analysis, literary adaptation, literary criticism, Cairo, modernity, cultural influence, societal expectations, individualism, human nature, psychological analysis, Arab culture, family, urbanization
Naguib Mahfouz, Egyptian literature, existentialism, identity, love, relationships, social commentary, cultural norms, social class, personal growth, literary style, literary legacy, literary analysis, literary adaptation, literary criticism, Cairo, modernity, cultural influence, societal expectations, individualism, human nature, psychological analysis, Arab culture, family, urbanization
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(00:00):
Chapter six. There was no possibleway to avoid meeting him. John Cameron
knew that with the first glance.He also knew that Wainwright had recognized him
at once, and was lifting hischin already with that peculiar, disagreeable tilt
of triumph that had always been somaddening to one who knew the small,
(00:21):
mean nature of the man. Ofcourse, there was still time to turn
deliberately about and flee in the otherdirection, but that would be all too
obvious and an open confession of weakness. John Cameron was never, at any
time a coward. His firm lipsset a trifle more sternly than usual,
his handsome head was held high withfine military bearing. He came forward without
(00:44):
faltering for even so much as thefraction of a waiver. There was not
a fliquor in his eyes. Setstraight ahead, one would never have known
from his looks that he recognized theoncoming man, or had so much as
realized that an officer was approaching.Yet his brain was doing some rapid calculation.
He had said in his heart,if not openly, that he would
never salute this man. He hadmany times in their hometown openly passed him
(01:08):
without salute, because he had absolutelyno respect for him, and felt that
he owed it to his sense ofthe fitness of things not to give him
deference. But that was a differentmatter from camp. He knew that Wainwright
was in a position to do himinjury, and no longer stood in fear
of a good thrashing from him asat home, because here he could easily
(01:29):
have the offender put in the guardhouse and disgraced forever. Nothing, of
course, would delight him more thanthus to humiliate his sworn enemy. Yet
Cameron walked on, knowing that hehad resolved not to salute him. It
was not merely pride in his ownsuperiority. It was contempt for the nature
of the man, for his low, contemptible plots and tricks and cunning ways,
(01:53):
for his entire lack of principle,and his utter selfishness and heartlessness that
made Cameron feel justified in his attitudetoward Wainwright. He is nothing but a
hun at heart, he told himselfbitterly. But the tables were turned.
Wainwright was no longer in his hometown, where his detestable pranks had goaded many
of his neighbors and fellow townsmen intoa cordial hatred of him. He was
(02:16):
in a great military camp, vestedwith a certain amount of authority, with
the right to report those under him, who in turn could not retaliate by
telling what they knew of him,because it was a court martial offense for
a private to report an officer.Well, naturally, the United States was
not supposed to have put men inauthority who needed reporting. Cameron, of
(02:38):
course, realized that these things hadto be in order to maintain military discipline.
But it was inevitable that some unworthyones should creep in, and Wainwright
was surely one of those unworthy ones. He would not bend to him,
officer or no officer. What didhe care what happened to himself? Who
was there to care but his mother, and she would understand if the news
(03:00):
should happen to penetrate to the hometown, which was hardly likely. Those
who knew him would not doubt him. Those who did not mattered little.
There was really no one who wouldcare. Stay. A letter crackled in
his breast pocket, and a coldchill of horror struggled up from his heart.
Supposed she should hear of it?Yes, he would care for that.
(03:22):
They were almost meeting now, andCameron's eyes were straight ahead, staring
hard at the big green shape ofthe theater a quarter of a mile away.
His face, under its usual control, showed no sign of the tumult
in his heart, which flamed witha sudden despair against a fate that had
placed him in such a desperate situation. If there were a just power who
(03:43):
controlled the affairs of men, howcould it let such things happen to one
who had always tried to live anupright life. It seemed for that instant
as if all the unfairness and injusticeof his own hard life had culminated into
that one moment when he would haveto do or not do, and bear
the consequences. Then suddenly, outfrom the barracks, close at hand,
(04:05):
with brisk step and noble bearing,came Captain LaRue, swinging down the walk
into the road, straight between thetwo men, and stopped short in front
of Cameron, with a real lightof welcome in his eyes as he lifted
his hand to answer the salute,which the relieved Cameron instantly flashed at him.
In that second, Lieutenant Wainwright flungpast them, with a curt salute
(04:28):
to the higher officer and a glareat the corporal, which the latter seemed
not to see. It was sosimultaneous with Cameron's salute of LaRue that nobody
on earth could say that the salutehad not included the lieutenant. Yet both
the lieutenant and the corporal knew thatit had not, and Wainwright's brow was
dark with intention as he turned sharplyup the walk to the barracks, which
(04:49):
the captain had just left. Iwas just coming in search of you,
Cameron, said the captain, witha twinkle in his eyes, and his
voice was clearly distinct to Wainwright.He loitered in the barracks doorway to listen.
I went down to Washington yesterday andput in the strongest plea I knew
how for your transfer. I hopeit will go through all right. There's
(05:10):
no one else out for the job, and you are just the man for
the place. It will be agreat comfort to have you with me.
A few more words, and thebusy man moved on, eluding Cameron's earnest
thanks and leaving him to pursue hiscourse to the y m c. A
Hut with a sense of soothing andcomfort. It never occurred to either of
them that their brief conversation had beenoverheard, and would not have disturbed them
(05:33):
if it had. Lieutenant Wainwright lingeredon the steps of the barracks with a
growing curiosity and satisfaction. The enemywere playing right into his hands, both
the enemy, for he hated CaptainLaRue as sin always hates the light.
He lounged about the barracks in deepthought for a few minutes, and then
made a careful toilet and went out. He knew exactly where to go and
(05:57):
how to use his influence, whichwas not all. Although not personal,
it was characteristic of the man thatit made no difference to him that the
power he was wielding was a borrowedpower whose owner would have been the last
man to have done what he wasabout to do with it. He had
never in his life hesitated about gettingwhatever he wanted by whatever means presented itself.
(06:18):
He was often aware that people gavehim what he wanted merely to get
rid of him, but this didnot alloy his pleasure in his achievement.
He was something of a privileged characterin the high place to which he betook
himself on account of the supreme regardwhich was held for the uncle, a
mighty automobile king, through whose influencehe had obtained his commission. So far
(06:41):
he had not availed himself of hisprivileges too often, and had therefore not
as yet outworn his welcome, Forhe was a true diplomat. He entered
this evening with just the right shadeof delicate assurance and humble effrontery to assure
him a cordial welcome, and gracefullysettled himself to the friendliness that was readily
extended to him. He was versedin all the ways of the world,
(07:04):
and when he chose, could putup a good appearance. He knew that
for the sake of his father's family, and more especially because of his uncle's
high standing, this great official whomhe was calling upon, was bound to
be nice to him for a time. So he bided his time till a
few other officials had left, andthen his turn came. The talk was
(07:26):
all personal, a few words abouthis relatives, and then questions about himself,
his commission, how he liked it, and how things were going for
him. Mere form and courtesy,But he knew how to use the conversation
for his own ends. Oh I'mgetting along fine and dandy, he declared
effusively. I'm just crazy about camp. I like the life. But I'll
(07:48):
tell you what makes me tired.It's these little common guys running about,
fussing about their jobs and trying toget a lot of pull to get into
some other place. Now there's aninstance of that our company, a man
from my hometown, no account whatever, and never was, but he's got
it in his head that he's asquare peg in a round hole and he
wants to be transferred. He shoutsabout it from morning till night, trying
(08:11):
to get everybody to help him.And at last I understand he's hoodwinked one
captain into thinking he's the salt ofthe earth, and they are plotting together
to get him transferred. I happenedto overhear them talking about it just now,
how they are going to this oneand that one in Washington to get
things fixed to suit them. Theythink they've got the right to dope on
(08:31):
things, all right, and it'sgoing through for him to get his transfer.
It makes me sick. He's nomore fit for a commission than my
dog not as fit, for hecould at least obey orders. This fellow
never did anything but what he pleased. I've known him since we were kids
and never liked him, but hehas a way with him that gets people
till they understand him. It's toobad when the country needs real men to
(08:54):
do their duty that a fellow likethat can get a commission when he is
utterly inefficient, besides being a wrecker, breeder of trouble. But of course
I can't tell anybody what I knowabout him. I guess you needn't worry,
Wainwright. They can't make any transferswithout sending them up to me.
And you may be good and sure. I'm not transferring anybody just now without
(09:15):
a good reason, no matter whois asking it. He's in your company?
Is he? And where does heask to be transferred? Just give
me his name. I'll make anote of it. If it ever comes
up, I'll know how to finishhim pretty suddenly, though I doubt if
it does. People are not pullingwires just now. This is war and
everything means business. However, ifI find there has been wire pulling,
(09:37):
I shall know how to deal withit. Summarily. It's a court martial
offense, you know. They passedon to other topics, and Wainwright,
with his little eyes gleaming triumphantly,soon took himself out into the starlight.
Knowing that he had done fifteen minutesgood work, and not wishing to outdo
it, he strolled contentedly back tothe officer's quarters, wearing a more complacent
(10:00):
look on his heavy features. Hewould teach John Cameron to ignore him.
Meanwhile, John Cameron, with hishead among the stars, walked the dusty
camp streets and forgot the existence ofLieutenant Wainwright. A glow of gratitude had
flooded his soul at sight of hisbeloved captain, whom he hoped to be
able to call his captain. Unconsciously, he walked with more self respect as
(10:24):
the words of confidence and trust rangover again in his ears. Unconsciously,
the little matters of personal enmity becamesmaller, of less importance beside the greater
things of life in which he hopedsoon to have a real part. If
he got his transfer, it meanta chance to work with a great man
in a great way that would notonly help the war, but would be
(10:46):
of great value to him in thisworld after the war was over. It
was good to have the friendship ofa man like that, fine, clean,
strong, intellectual kind, just humangentle, as a woman at stern
against all who deviated from the pathof bright. The dust was settling into
evening, and twinkling lights gloomed outamid the dusty dust laid in air.
(11:09):
Snatches of wild song chorused out fromopen windows. She's my lady, my
baby, she's cock eyed, she'scrazy. The twang of a banjo trailed
in above the voices, with asound of scuffling loud laughter, broke the
thread of the song, leaving MaryAnne to soar out alone. Then the
chorus took it up once more.All her teeth are faults from eating Rochelle
(11:33):
salts. She's my freckled faced consumptive. Mary Anne Cameron turned in at the
quiet haven of the y m cA Hut, glad to leave the babbel
sounds outside. Somehow they did notfit his mood tonight, although there were
times when he could roar the outlandishgibberish with the best of them, but
tonight he was on such a wonderfulsacred errand bent that it seemed as though
(11:56):
he wanted to keep his soul fromcontact with rougher things, lest somehow it
might get out of tune and sounfit for the task before him. And
then, when he had seated himselfbefore the simple desk, he looked at
the paper with discontent. True,it was all that was provided and was
good enough for ordinary letters, butthis letter to her was different. He
(12:18):
wished he had something better to thinkhe was really writing to her, And
now that he was here with thepaper before him, what was he to
say? Words seemed to have desertedhim. How should he address her?
It was not until he had edgedover to the end of the bench,
away from everybody else, and hadtaken out the precious letter that he gained
(12:39):
confidence and took up his pen.My dear friend, Why he would call
her his friend? Of course,that was what she had called him.
And as he wrote, he seemedto hear her again as she sat in
her car by the station the dayhe had started on his long, long
trail, and their eyes had met. Looking so into her eyes again again,
(13:00):
he wrote, straight from his soul, my dear friend, your letter
has just reached me after traveling aboutfor weeks. I am not going to
try to tell you how wonderful itis to me to have it. In
fact, the wonder began that morningI left home, when you smiled at
me and waved a friendly farewell.It was a great surprise to me.
(13:20):
I had not supposed until that momentthat you remembered my existence. Why should
you, And it had never beenfrom lack of desire to do so that
I failed to greet you when wepassed in the street. I did not
think that I, a mere littlehoodlum from your infant days, had a
right to intrude upon your grown upacquaintance without a hint from you that such
(13:41):
recognition would be agreeable. I neverblamed you for not speaking. Of course,
perhaps I didn't give you the chance. I simply thought I had grown
out of your memory, as wasaltogether natural. It was indeed a pleasant
experience to see that light of friendlinessin your eyes at the station that day,
and to know it was a realpersonal recognition and not just a patriotic
(14:03):
gush of enthusiasm for the whole shabbylot of US draftees starting out to an
unknown future. I thanked you inmy heart for that little bit of personal
friendliness. But I never expected tohave an opportunity to thank you in words,
nor to have the friendliness last afterI had gone away. When your
letter came this morning, it surewas some pleasant surprise. I know you
(14:26):
have a great many friends and plentyof people to write letters to, but
somehow there was a real note ofcomradeship in the one you wrote me,
not as if you just felt sorryfor me because I had to go off
to war and fight and maybe getkilled. It was as if the conditions
of the times had suddenly swept awaya lot of foolish conventions of the world,
which may all have their good useperhaps at times, but at a
(14:50):
time like this are superfluous, andyou had just gravely and sweetly offered me
an old friend's sympathy and good will. As such, I have taken it
and am rejoicing in it. Don'tmake any mistake about this, however,
I never have forgotten you or therose. I stole it from the Wainwright's
yard after I got done licking Chuck, and I had a fight with Hal
(15:13):
Wainwright over it, which almost finishedthe rose, and nearly got me expelled
from school Before I got through withit. Hal told his mother and she
took it to the school board.I was a pretty tough little rascal in
those days, I guess, andno doubt needed some lickings myself occasionally.
But I remember I almost lost mynerve when I got back to school that
(15:35):
day and came within an ace ofstuffing the rose in my pocket instead of
throwing it on your desk. Inever dreamed the rose would be anything to
you. It was only my wayof paying tribute to you. You seem
to me something like a rose yourselfjust dropped down out of heaven. You
know, you were so little andpink and gold, with such great blue
eyes. Pardon me, I don'tmean to be too personal. You don't
(15:58):
mind the big hobbledehoy's admiration, doyou? You are only a baby.
But I would have licked any boyin town that lifted a word or a
finger against you. And to thinkyou really needed my help, it certainly
would have lifted me above the cloudsto have known it then and now about
this war business. Of course,it is a rough job, and somebody
(16:19):
had to do it for the world. I was glad and willing to do
my part. But it makes adifferent thing out of it to be called
a knight. And I guess I'lllook at it a little more respectfully now.
If a life like mine can protecta life like yours from some of
the things those Germans are putting over, I'll gladly give it. I've sized
(16:40):
it up that a man couldn't doa bigger thing for the world anyhow he
planned it than to make the worldsafe for a life like yours. So
me for what they call the supremesacrifice, and it won't be any sacrifice
at all if it helps you.No, I haven't got a sweater or
those other things that go with thosethat you talk about. Mother hasn't had
(17:00):
time to knit, and I neverwas much of a lady's man. I
guess you know if you know meat all, or perhaps you don't,
But anyhow, i'd be wonderfully pleasedto wear a sweater that Hugh knit,
Although it seems a pretty big thingfor you to do for me. However,
if knitting is your job in thiswar, and I wouldn't be robbing
any other better fellow, I certainlywould just love to have it if you
(17:22):
could see this big, dusty,monotonous, olive drab camp, you would
know what a bright spot your letterand the thought of a real friend has
made in it. I suppose youhave been thinking all this time that I
was neglectful because I didn't answer,But it was all the fault of someone
who gave you the wrong address.I am hoping you will forgive me for
the delay, and that some dayyou will have time to write to me
(17:45):
again. Sincerely and proudly, yournight, John Cameron. As he walked
back to his barracks in the starlight, his heart was filled with a great
peace. What a thing it wasto have been able to speak to her
on paper and let her know histhoughts of her. It was as if,
after all these years he had beenable to pluck another trifling rose and
(18:07):
lay it at her lovely feet pernight. It was the fulfillment of all
his boyish dreams. He had entrustedhis letter to the YMCA man to mail
as he was going out of campthat night, and would mail it in
Baltimore, ensuring an immediate start.Now he began to speculate whether it would
reach its destination by morning and bedelivered with a morning mail. He felt
(18:32):
as excited and impatient as a childover it. Suddenly, a voice above
him in the barracks window rang outwith a familiar guffaw and the words,
why man, I can't, didn'tI tell you I'm going to marry Ruth
MacDonald before I go. There wouldn'tbe time for that and the other two.
Something in his heart grew cold withpain and horror, and something in
(18:53):
his motive power stopped suddenly and haltedhis feet on the sidewalk in the great
cut below the officer's barracks. Ah, a week more won't make any difference,
drawled another familiar voice. I say, how, she's just crazy about
you, and you could get noend of information out of her if you
tried. All she asks is thatyou tell what you know about a few
(19:17):
little things that don't matter anyway.But I tell you I can't. Man.
If Ruth found out about the girl, the mischief would be to pay.
She wouldn't stand for another girl,not that kind of a girl,
you know, And there wouldn't betime for me to explain and smooth things
over before I go across the pond. I tell you I've made up my
mind about this. The barracks doorslammed shut on the voices, and Corporal
(19:40):
Cameron's heart gave a great jump upwardsin his breast, and went on slowly
dizzily. He came to his sensesand moved on automatically toward his own quarters.
End of Chapter six
Chapter six. There was no possibleway to avoid meeting him. John Cameron
knew that with the first glance.He also knew that Wainwright had recognized him
at once, and was lifting hischin already with that peculiar, disagreeable tilt
of triumph that had always been somaddening to one who knew the small,
(00:21):
mean nature of the man. Ofcourse, there was still time to turn
deliberately about and flee in the otherdirection, but that would be all too
obvious and an open confession of weakness. John Cameron was never, at any
time a coward. His firm lipsset a trifle more sternly than usual,
his handsome head was held high withfine military bearing. He came forward without
(00:44):
faltering for even so much as thefraction of a waiver. There was not
a fliquor in his eyes. Setstraight ahead, one would never have known
from his looks that he recognized theoncoming man, or had so much as
realized that an officer was approaching.Yet his brain was doing some rapid calculation.
He had said in his heart,if not openly, that he would
never salute this man. He hadmany times in their hometown openly passed him
(01:08):
without salute, because he had absolutelyno respect for him, and felt that
he owed it to his sense ofthe fitness of things not to give him
deference. But that was a differentmatter from camp. He knew that Wainwright
was in a position to do himinjury, and no longer stood in fear
of a good thrashing from him asat home, because here he could easily
(01:29):
have the offender put in the guardhouse and disgraced forever. Nothing, of
course, would delight him more thanthus to humiliate his sworn enemy. Yet
Cameron walked on, knowing that hehad resolved not to salute him. It
was not merely pride in his ownsuperiority. It was contempt for the nature
of the man, for his low, contemptible plots and tricks and cunning ways,
(01:53):
for his entire lack of principle,and his utter selfishness and heartlessness that
made Cameron feel justified in his attitudetoward Wainwright. He is nothing but a
hun at heart, he told himselfbitterly. But the tables were turned.
Wainwright was no longer in his hometown, where his detestable pranks had goaded many
of his neighbors and fellow townsmen intoa cordial hatred of him. He was
(02:16):
in a great military camp, vestedwith a certain amount of authority, with
the right to report those under him, who in turn could not retaliate by
telling what they knew of him,because it was a court martial offense for
a private to report an officer.Well, naturally, the United States was
not supposed to have put men inauthority who needed reporting. Cameron, of
(02:38):
course, realized that these things hadto be in order to maintain military discipline.
But it was inevitable that some unworthyones should creep in, and Wainwright
was surely one of those unworthy ones. He would not bend to him,
officer or no officer. What didhe care what happened to himself? Who
was there to care but his mother, and she would understand if the news
(03:00):
should happen to penetrate to the hometown, which was hardly likely. Those
who knew him would not doubt him. Those who did not mattered little.
There was really no one who wouldcare. Stay. A letter crackled in
his breast pocket, and a coldchill of horror struggled up from his heart.
Supposed she should hear of it?Yes, he would care for that.
(03:22):
They were almost meeting now, andCameron's eyes were straight ahead, staring
hard at the big green shape ofthe theater a quarter of a mile away.
His face, under its usual control, showed no sign of the tumult
in his heart, which flamed witha sudden despair against a fate that had
placed him in such a desperate situation. If there were a just power who
(03:43):
controlled the affairs of men, howcould it let such things happen to one
who had always tried to live anupright life. It seemed for that instant
as if all the unfairness and injusticeof his own hard life had culminated into
that one moment when he would haveto do or not do, and bear
the consequences. Then suddenly, outfrom the barracks, close at hand,
(04:05):
with brisk step and noble bearing,came Captain LaRue, swinging down the walk
into the road, straight between thetwo men, and stopped short in front
of Cameron, with a real lightof welcome in his eyes as he lifted
his hand to answer the salute,which the relieved Cameron instantly flashed at him.
In that second, Lieutenant Wainwright flungpast them, with a curt salute
(04:28):
to the higher officer and a glareat the corporal, which the latter seemed
not to see. It was sosimultaneous with Cameron's salute of LaRue that nobody
on earth could say that the salutehad not included the lieutenant. Yet both
the lieutenant and the corporal knew thatit had not, and Wainwright's brow was
dark with intention as he turned sharplyup the walk to the barracks, which
(04:49):
the captain had just left. Iwas just coming in search of you,
Cameron, said the captain, witha twinkle in his eyes, and his
voice was clearly distinct to Wainwright.He loitered in the barracks doorway to listen.
I went down to Washington yesterday andput in the strongest plea I knew
how for your transfer. I hopeit will go through all right. There's
(05:10):
no one else out for the job, and you are just the man for
the place. It will be agreat comfort to have you with me.
A few more words, and thebusy man moved on, eluding Cameron's earnest
thanks and leaving him to pursue hiscourse to the y m c. A
Hut with a sense of soothing andcomfort. It never occurred to either of
them that their brief conversation had beenoverheard, and would not have disturbed them
(05:33):
if it had. Lieutenant Wainwright lingeredon the steps of the barracks with a
growing curiosity and satisfaction. The enemywere playing right into his hands, both
the enemy, for he hated CaptainLaRue as sin always hates the light.
He lounged about the barracks in deepthought for a few minutes, and then
made a careful toilet and went out. He knew exactly where to go and
(05:57):
how to use his influence, whichwas not all. Although not personal,
it was characteristic of the man thatit made no difference to him that the
power he was wielding was a borrowedpower whose owner would have been the last
man to have done what he wasabout to do with it. He had
never in his life hesitated about gettingwhatever he wanted by whatever means presented itself.
(06:18):
He was often aware that people gavehim what he wanted merely to get
rid of him, but this didnot alloy his pleasure in his achievement.
He was something of a privileged characterin the high place to which he betook
himself on account of the supreme regardwhich was held for the uncle, a
mighty automobile king, through whose influencehe had obtained his commission. So far
(06:41):
he had not availed himself of hisprivileges too often, and had therefore not
as yet outworn his welcome, Forhe was a true diplomat. He entered
this evening with just the right shadeof delicate assurance and humble effrontery to assure
him a cordial welcome, and gracefullysettled himself to the friendliness that was readily
extended to him. He was versedin all the ways of the world,
(07:04):
and when he chose, could putup a good appearance. He knew that
for the sake of his father's family, and more especially because of his uncle's
high standing, this great official whomhe was calling upon, was bound to
be nice to him for a time. So he bided his time till a
few other officials had left, andthen his turn came. The talk was
(07:26):
all personal, a few words abouthis relatives, and then questions about himself,
his commission, how he liked it, and how things were going for
him. Mere form and courtesy,But he knew how to use the conversation
for his own ends. Oh I'mgetting along fine and dandy, he declared
effusively. I'm just crazy about camp. I like the life. But I'll
(07:48):
tell you what makes me tired.It's these little common guys running about,
fussing about their jobs and trying toget a lot of pull to get into
some other place. Now there's aninstance of that our company, a man
from my hometown, no account whatever, and never was, but he's got
it in his head that he's asquare peg in a round hole and he
wants to be transferred. He shoutsabout it from morning till night, trying
(08:11):
to get everybody to help him.And at last I understand he's hoodwinked one
captain into thinking he's the salt ofthe earth, and they are plotting together
to get him transferred. I happenedto overhear them talking about it just now,
how they are going to this oneand that one in Washington to get
things fixed to suit them. Theythink they've got the right to dope on
(08:31):
things, all right, and it'sgoing through for him to get his transfer.
It makes me sick. He's nomore fit for a commission than my
dog not as fit, for hecould at least obey orders. This fellow
never did anything but what he pleased. I've known him since we were kids
and never liked him, but hehas a way with him that gets people
till they understand him. It's toobad when the country needs real men to
(08:54):
do their duty that a fellow likethat can get a commission when he is
utterly inefficient, besides being a wrecker, breeder of trouble. But of course
I can't tell anybody what I knowabout him. I guess you needn't worry,
Wainwright. They can't make any transferswithout sending them up to me.
And you may be good and sure. I'm not transferring anybody just now without
(09:15):
a good reason, no matter whois asking it. He's in your company?
Is he? And where does heask to be transferred? Just give
me his name. I'll make anote of it. If it ever comes
up, I'll know how to finishhim pretty suddenly, though I doubt if
it does. People are not pullingwires just now. This is war and
everything means business. However, ifI find there has been wire pulling,
(09:37):
I shall know how to deal withit. Summarily. It's a court martial
offense, you know. They passedon to other topics, and Wainwright,
with his little eyes gleaming triumphantly,soon took himself out into the starlight.
Knowing that he had done fifteen minutesgood work, and not wishing to outdo
it, he strolled contentedly back tothe officer's quarters, wearing a more complacent
(10:00):
look on his heavy features. Hewould teach John Cameron to ignore him.
Meanwhile, John Cameron, with hishead among the stars, walked the dusty
camp streets and forgot the existence ofLieutenant Wainwright. A glow of gratitude had
flooded his soul at sight of hisbeloved captain, whom he hoped to be
able to call his captain. Unconsciously, he walked with more self respect as
(10:24):
the words of confidence and trust rangover again in his ears. Unconsciously,
the little matters of personal enmity becamesmaller, of less importance beside the greater
things of life in which he hopedsoon to have a real part. If
he got his transfer, it meanta chance to work with a great man
in a great way that would notonly help the war, but would be
(10:46):
of great value to him in thisworld after the war was over. It
was good to have the friendship ofa man like that, fine, clean,
strong, intellectual kind, just humangentle, as a woman at stern
against all who deviated from the pathof bright. The dust was settling into
evening, and twinkling lights gloomed outamid the dusty dust laid in air.
(11:09):
Snatches of wild song chorused out fromopen windows. She's my lady, my
baby, she's cock eyed, she'scrazy. The twang of a banjo trailed
in above the voices, with asound of scuffling loud laughter, broke the
thread of the song, leaving MaryAnne to soar out alone. Then the
chorus took it up once more.All her teeth are faults from eating Rochelle
(11:33):
salts. She's my freckled faced consumptive. Mary Anne Cameron turned in at the
quiet haven of the y m cA Hut, glad to leave the babbel
sounds outside. Somehow they did notfit his mood tonight, although there were
times when he could roar the outlandishgibberish with the best of them, but
tonight he was on such a wonderfulsacred errand bent that it seemed as though
(11:56):
he wanted to keep his soul fromcontact with rougher things, lest somehow it
might get out of tune and sounfit for the task before him. And
then, when he had seated himselfbefore the simple desk, he looked at
the paper with discontent. True,it was all that was provided and was
good enough for ordinary letters, butthis letter to her was different. He
(12:18):
wished he had something better to thinkhe was really writing to her, And
now that he was here with thepaper before him, what was he to
say? Words seemed to have desertedhim. How should he address her?
It was not until he had edgedover to the end of the bench,
away from everybody else, and hadtaken out the precious letter that he gained
(12:39):
confidence and took up his pen.My dear friend, Why he would call
her his friend? Of course,that was what she had called him.
And as he wrote, he seemedto hear her again as she sat in
her car by the station the dayhe had started on his long, long
trail, and their eyes had met. Looking so into her eyes again again,
(13:00):
he wrote, straight from his soul, my dear friend, your letter
has just reached me after traveling aboutfor weeks. I am not going to
try to tell you how wonderful itis to me to have it. In
fact, the wonder began that morningI left home, when you smiled at
me and waved a friendly farewell.It was a great surprise to me.
(13:20):
I had not supposed until that momentthat you remembered my existence. Why should
you, And it had never beenfrom lack of desire to do so that
I failed to greet you when wepassed in the street. I did not
think that I, a mere littlehoodlum from your infant days, had a
right to intrude upon your grown upacquaintance without a hint from you that such
(13:41):
recognition would be agreeable. I neverblamed you for not speaking. Of course,
perhaps I didn't give you the chance. I simply thought I had grown
out of your memory, as wasaltogether natural. It was indeed a pleasant
experience to see that light of friendlinessin your eyes at the station that day,
and to know it was a realpersonal recognition and not just a patriotic
(14:03):
gush of enthusiasm for the whole shabbylot of US draftees starting out to an
unknown future. I thanked you inmy heart for that little bit of personal
friendliness. But I never expected tohave an opportunity to thank you in words,
nor to have the friendliness last afterI had gone away. When your
letter came this morning, it surewas some pleasant surprise. I know you
(14:26):
have a great many friends and plentyof people to write letters to, but
somehow there was a real note ofcomradeship in the one you wrote me,
not as if you just felt sorryfor me because I had to go off
to war and fight and maybe getkilled. It was as if the conditions
of the times had suddenly swept awaya lot of foolish conventions of the world,
which may all have their good useperhaps at times, but at a
(14:50):
time like this are superfluous, andyou had just gravely and sweetly offered me
an old friend's sympathy and good will. As such, I have taken it
and am rejoicing in it. Don'tmake any mistake about this, however,
I never have forgotten you or therose. I stole it from the Wainwright's
yard after I got done licking Chuck, and I had a fight with Hal
(15:13):
Wainwright over it, which almost finishedthe rose, and nearly got me expelled
from school Before I got through withit. Hal told his mother and she
took it to the school board.I was a pretty tough little rascal in
those days, I guess, andno doubt needed some lickings myself occasionally.
But I remember I almost lost mynerve when I got back to school that
(15:35):
day and came within an ace ofstuffing the rose in my pocket instead of
throwing it on your desk. Inever dreamed the rose would be anything to
you. It was only my wayof paying tribute to you. You seem
to me something like a rose yourselfjust dropped down out of heaven. You
know, you were so little andpink and gold, with such great blue
eyes. Pardon me, I don'tmean to be too personal. You don't
(15:58):
mind the big hobbledehoy's admiration, doyou? You are only a baby.
But I would have licked any boyin town that lifted a word or a
finger against you. And to thinkyou really needed my help, it certainly
would have lifted me above the cloudsto have known it then and now about
this war business. Of course,it is a rough job, and somebody
(16:19):
had to do it for the world. I was glad and willing to do
my part. But it makes adifferent thing out of it to be called
a knight. And I guess I'lllook at it a little more respectfully now.
If a life like mine can protecta life like yours from some of
the things those Germans are putting over, I'll gladly give it. I've sized
(16:40):
it up that a man couldn't doa bigger thing for the world anyhow he
planned it than to make the worldsafe for a life like yours. So
me for what they call the supremesacrifice, and it won't be any sacrifice
at all if it helps you.No, I haven't got a sweater or
those other things that go with thosethat you talk about. Mother hasn't had
(17:00):
time to knit, and I neverwas much of a lady's man. I
guess you know if you know meat all, or perhaps you don't,
But anyhow, i'd be wonderfully pleasedto wear a sweater that Hugh knit,
Although it seems a pretty big thingfor you to do for me. However,
if knitting is your job in thiswar, and I wouldn't be robbing
any other better fellow, I certainlywould just love to have it if you
(17:22):
could see this big, dusty,monotonous, olive drab camp, you would
know what a bright spot your letterand the thought of a real friend has
made in it. I suppose youhave been thinking all this time that I
was neglectful because I didn't answer,But it was all the fault of someone
who gave you the wrong address.I am hoping you will forgive me for
the delay, and that some dayyou will have time to write to me
(17:45):
again. Sincerely and proudly, yournight, John Cameron. As he walked
back to his barracks in the starlight, his heart was filled with a great
peace. What a thing it wasto have been able to speak to her
on paper and let her know histhoughts of her. It was as if,
after all these years he had beenable to pluck another trifling rose and
(18:07):
lay it at her lovely feet pernight. It was the fulfillment of all
his boyish dreams. He had entrustedhis letter to the YMCA man to mail
as he was going out of campthat night, and would mail it in
Baltimore, ensuring an immediate start.Now he began to speculate whether it would
reach its destination by morning and bedelivered with a morning mail. He felt
(18:32):
as excited and impatient as a childover it. Suddenly, a voice above
him in the barracks window rang outwith a familiar guffaw and the words,
why man, I can't, didn'tI tell you I'm going to marry Ruth
MacDonald before I go. There wouldn'tbe time for that and the other two.
Something in his heart grew cold withpain and horror, and something in
(18:53):
his motive power stopped suddenly and haltedhis feet on the sidewalk in the great
cut below the officer's barracks. Ah, a week more won't make any difference,
drawled another familiar voice. I say, how, she's just crazy about
you, and you could get noend of information out of her if you
tried. All she asks is thatyou tell what you know about a few
(19:17):
little things that don't matter anyway.But I tell you I can't. Man.
If Ruth found out about the girl, the mischief would be to pay.
She wouldn't stand for another girl,not that kind of a girl,
you know, And there wouldn't betime for me to explain and smooth things
over before I go across the pond. I tell you I've made up my
mind about this. The barracks doorslammed shut on the voices, and Corporal
(19:40):
Cameron's heart gave a great jump upwardsin his breast, and went on slowly
dizzily. He came to his sensesand moved on automatically toward his own quarters.
End of Chapter six
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