When
twilight comes, Henry hears renewed sounds of fighting, and
he runs in the direction of the battle, fully aware of how ironical
this action is. But he runs just to witness the battle; he has
no intention of getting involved in it again. He thinks of the
war as like the grinding of an immense machine, and he must
get close to it and watch it. He comes upon a procession of
wounded men making their way to the rear. He falls in with them.
A tattered soldier covered with grime and blood, and wounded
in the head and arm, walks at Henry’s side and tries to
befriend him. He tries to get Henry to agree with him that it
had been a good fight. He says all the soldiers on their side
fought hard. Then he asks Henry where he is wounded. Henry panics
and turns away from the man. He slips off into the crowd.
Henry finds other
wounded men to walk with, but he now thinks that his shame must
be visible. He wishes he had a wound too, a “red badge
of courage” (ch. 9, p. 67). He walks alongside a man who
is badly wounded and near death. With horror he realizes it
is Jim Conklin. When Jim recognizes Henry, he says he was worried
about him. Henry says he will take care of him, but the tattered
soldier tells Henry that Jim has only a few more minutes to
live. Henry watches as Jim goes through his last moments before
falling to the ground dead. At the sight of his dead friend,
Henry turns with rage in the direction of the battlefield and
shakes his fist.
The tattered soldier
and Henry leave the corpse and start back on their way. Henry
is worried that the soldier may also die, but the tattered soldier
says he will not. After they have talked a while, the tattered
soldier again asks Henry where his injury is located. He assumes
it may be an internal injury, since Henry carries no visible
wound. Henry becomes angry at the man and tells him not to bother
him. Then Henry says goodbye and wanders off by himself. He
wishes he was dead. He feels unable to keep his crime of cowardice
concealed.
Analysis
In these three chapters, Henry is continually confronted with
his own conscience. Wherever he turns he cannot escape it. This
is the role the tattered soldier plays. He acts as a prick to
Henry’s conscience. The tattered soldier’s tales
of how well the men fought, and how much he admires them, is
an awful thing for Henry to hear, carrying as it does a terrible
reproach for his own cowardice. But then it gets even worse.
Given that his listener is Henry, there is deep irony in the
tattered soldier’s tale of meeting a boy from Georgia
who said that the Union boys would run once they heard a gun.
“Well, they didn’t run t’day, did they, hey?”
he says to Henry (ch. 8. p. 66). Of course, Henry can make no
response. Then twice the tattered soldier asks Henry, in all
good intent, where he is wounded. It seems that Henry cannot
escape from being reminded of his act of cowardice. All the
men he meets now have visible badges of courage—their
bleeding wounds. Henry’s wound is indeed internal and
invisible, as the tattered soldier believes, although what the
soldier means by that is something quite different from the
reality.
The contrast between
Jim and Henry reaches its starkest moment here. They have similar
backgrounds. They have known each other since childhood. But
Jim faced up to his responsibilities and paid the heaviest price
a man can pay. No wonder Henry is tortured by grief at Jim’s
fate, since it is inextricably mixed up with his own feelings
of guilt, which can only become worse as a result of his friend’s
death. |