WEN: 2260EE
Exhibitor Name: Jeshua Wickham
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
Henry shivered, and folded up his letter. The falling drops had smudged some of the ink. He must remember to be sparing. Ink was no luxury out here, and he would soon run out at this rate. He would try and send it sometime this week. The drizzling rain had stopped — let us only hope it would not begin again. He got up, stretching his cramped legs. As he gingerly stepped forward, the pain shot through his ankles again. His feet were sore and swollen, like many of the men. But he was thankful that he even had shoes. Many of the other men were barefoot, hobbling painfully over the icy ground, leaving bloody tracks behind them. Oh, how different this winter was from the campaign that summer! Sitting down wearily in the bare hut he called home, he closed his eyes. Yes, that summer was just as he had imagined it would be. . . . . . The troops marched merrily along the dirt road. Cheerful drum beats and fifes accompanied the men on their march. Flying in the breeze ahead of them was the stars and stripes, newly issued by congress. Its bright colors seemed to symbolize the bright hopes of the men who followed it. Hopes which would be dashed in a few months’ time. But not a thought of that weighed on the mens’ minds as they tramped through the summer fields. The sun shone down warmly on the golden fields of grain, and on the columns of marching men. Birds twittered and chirped everywhere, seeming to be singing their hearts out, just for the joy of living. Children laughed and played in a nearby farm yard. The wind blew over the fields of standing grain, making them look like a sea of golden waves, rippling over the hills. It ran up and tossed the upper branches of the trees lining the road, and then swept over and tousled the mens’ hair. Then it caught up the flag, making it flap stiffly, and then, growing bored, went to find a new playmate, leaving it to curl limply in the still summer heat. Henry, his heart as light as the summer day, could hardly have foreseen the devastation war would bring. He walked along, listening to the men around him laughing and talking. On his left he had a gruff looking, bearded man, with heavy, frowning black brows. He stalked along without a flicker of interest in anything around him. Why was he going to war, wondered Henry? He certainly didn’t look like your typical patriot. In front of him were more men, mostly middle-aged, with a few youths. Many of them looked eager and happy. They were joking among themselves and laughing. On Henry’s right was a boy who looked about his own age. He had a pleasant face, with merry, bright blue
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