FALLING STARS
Chapter Fourteen
June 19, 1917
The United States entered World War I on
April 6, 1917. Shortly thereafter, a law was passed requiring all men between
the ages of twenty-one and thirty to register for the Selective Service, also
known as the draft. Jack registered, as was required by law, but neither was
happy about it. The Dawsons had paid little more than casual attention to the
war until the United States became involved in it, and both Jack and Rose felt
strongly that the United States had no business being in the war.
However, personal opinions meant nothing, and
the draft notice arrived for Jack on June 19, 1917. Jack wasn’t home when it
arrived; he was working at the gallery. The man who delivered it hurried off,
trying to avoid Rose’s irritated scolding.
When Jack returned home that afternoon, Rose
greeted him with the notice. He read it quickly, then swore out loud.
"Oh, shit."
Rose hushed him. "Jack, the children
don’t need to hear that."
She looked over at the two youngsters.
Gregory was drawing on a piece of newspaper and appeared not to have heard, but
Libby, who, at two years old, had a habit of repeating every new word she
heard, toddled over, saying, "Sit. Sit. Sit."
Rose picked her up. "Libby, that’s not a
nice word. Daddy only said it because he’s angry."
"Sawee." Libby struggled to get
down, and Rose let her go, watching her toddle over to pester her brother. He
ignored her, moving his art project out of her reach.
"Jack, what are you going to do?"
He tossed the notice on the table. "I
have to go. I don’t have a choice. Maybe I’ll be lucky and be stationed
somewhere in the United States, though I wouldn’t count on it."
"When do you have to leave?"
"In a week."
"A week! Isn’t there some kind of
provision that can get you out of it, such as your being a family man or
something?"
"I doubt it. If there was, then there
wouldn’t be nearly so many family men sent to that infernal war. And we don’t
have any extenuating circumstances, either. No one is sick, we have plenty of
money to spare, you can be relied upon to care for the children
yourself..."
"This is absurd! Why should people be
forced to go to a war if they don’t agree with it?"
"Because it’s the law. What if they
couldn’t get enough people to support their war efforts?"
"Then they couldn’t have a war. The
United States shouldn’t be in this war anyway. It’s Europe’s argument, and
Europe’s problem. They’ve been fighting for centuries, anyway. What can America
do about it?"
"It’s thought, by some, that after this
war is over there won’t be any more wars. Supposedly the casualties are
horrifying enough that people won’t want to fight anymore."
Rose snorted rudely. "I’ll believe it
when I see it. Besides, if the casualties are that horrifying, shouldn’t the
United States want to keep its people out of the war?"
"There’s nothing rational about war--or
the people who start them."
"It’s a mass psychotic disorder."
Rose had been studying the writings of various psychologists and philosophers
again. "What is this war over, anyway?"
"I’m not sure. I think it has something
to do with keeping the markets open."
"Why don’t Americans just do business
with the winners?"
"It wouldn’t be democratic. President
Wilson says we have to keep the world safe for democracy."
"What democracy? The world is ruled by a
few wealthy individuals. It has nothing to do with democracy."
"Daddy, are you going to be in the
war?" Gregory interrupted, looking up from his drawing.
"I’m afraid so."
The boy’s eyes lit up. "You’ll be a
hero!"
"You want to hear a secret,
Gregory?"
"What’s that?"
"I’d rather not go to the war at all.
I’d rather stay here with you."
"But then you wouldn’t be a hero. Why
don’t you want to be a hero, Daddy?"
"Because a lot of heroes are dead. I’d
rather be alive."
"Don’t worry, Daddy. Those stupid Huns
couldn’t hurt you."
"Where did you hear about Huns?"
"At the park. Mommy took Libby and me to
the park this morning, and George Heinz’s mother said that America was sure to
beat the evil, woman and child killing Huns."
Jack would have laughed at the irony if the
situation hadn’t been so serious. Heinz was a German name.
"Gregory, I don’t want to hear that word
from you again. They’re Germans, and they’re no better and no worse than any of
us. Got it?"
"Got it." The boy hung his head.
"I still think you’ll be a hero, though," he mumbled under his
breath.
Jack heard him. "I’ll try," he
said, sighing. "Just remember, Gregory, you don’t have to go to war to be
a hero. There’s heroes all around you who have never been to a war."
"Like who?"
"Like your mother. She’ll be holding
down the fort while I’m gone. I want you to behave, and watch your sister. All
right?"
"I can do it." Gregory puffed out
his chest, proud of the responsibility. "I’ll be the man of the
house!"
"I’m sure you’ll do a great job,
Gregory. Why don’t you take Libby down to the playroom so your Mommy can make
dinner? It’s good practice," he added, when the boy balked at the idea.
"Okay." Gregory got up reluctantly,
taking his little sister’s hand. Libby wailed no all the way down the hall,
then stopped when presented with her favorite toy.
Jack sat down at the table. "Dammit, I
hate this war. Maybe I should pretend I never got this notice."
"That wouldn’t work." Rose looked a
bit sheepish. "I scolded the delivery man for bringing it."
"Wonderful." Then he laughed.
"What was his reaction?"
"He couldn’t wait to get away from me.
He took off down the front walk so fast he was almost a blur. I don’t think I’m
the first wife to scold him."
"Probably not." Jack sobered.
"I’m going to miss you, Rose."
Rose wiped her hands on her apron and sat
down beside him. "I’m going to miss you, too." She sighed.
"Maybe it won’t be for too long. This war had already been going on for
almost four years. How long can it last?"
"Some wars have lasted hundreds of
years."
Rose grimaced. "Wonderful. Of course,
they won’t keep you that long. How long is it for, two years?"
"Something like that."
"Maybe it will end sooner."
"I hope so. This is ridiculous. With all
the propaganda, and all the support for the war, you would think that they
could get enough men to fight without drafting anyone."
"Like you said, there’s nothing rational
about war."