The Battle of Henry: A Tale of War and Courage

Barbed missiles of ridicule-전투에서 도망친 Henry를 향한 비난

Soldiers appear like men

Drunk with wine. Officer like an old, toddy-stricken grandfather, the picture of an exhausted soldier after the feast of war. 그런데 주변 상황은very peaceful. Wilson이 와서 커피 주고 상처 고쳐줌->He had the bustling ways of an amateur nurse. Henry 일어나고 Forest = charnel(납골당) place, 그 광경이 mere prophecy라고 느껴짐. Henry’s head felt precisely like a melon. Henry believes yellow envelope is a small weapon. War(enemy)=dragon// The youth wanted to launch a joke, a quotation from newspapers, “All quiet in the Rappahannock,” but the guns refused to permit even a comment upon their uproar//Rumors: Black creatures who flapped their wings drearily near to the ground and refused to rise on any wings of hope -> interpreting of omens, tales of hesitation and uncertainty, stories of disaster//적들이 youth 향해 돌진, ruthless hunting처럼 보임. Little tree뒤에서 총을 들었음. Youth는 분노해서 dark and stormy spector가 됨. Youth는 적들이 그의 피를 빨아먹는 flies 처럼 보임. 총이 impotent stick처럼 느껴짐. Youth 같은 wild cats들이 만마리 있었으면 전쟁 빨리 끝났을 듯. 다른 사람들은 Henry를 War devil처럼 보게 됨.//a dog, women, walnut tree는 때릴수록 좋아진다며 자신들과 같다고 함. The fight like a lot’a mule drivers. I can spare them best of any.-Officer///Henry가 Wilson 밀치고 emblem 들고 다님//Fleming – jimhickey, Wilson – howled like Indians -Lieutenant//전투 끝나고 쉬면서 Henry feels serene self-confindence A knowledge of its faded and jaded condition made the charge appear like a paroxysm, a display of the strength that comes before a final feebleness. //It appeared that the swift wings of their desires would have shattered against the iron gates of the impossible. //...he knew that he thought of the bullets only as things that could prevent him from reaching the place of his endeavor.//The flying regiment was going to have a catapultian effect.//He plunged like a mad horse at it. //It seemed there would shortly be an encounter of strange beaks and claws, as of eagles.//The youth, in his leapings, saw, as through a mist, a picture of four or five men stretched upon the ground or writhing upon their knees with bowed heads as if they had been stricken by bolts from the sky.//But his wounds always made it seem that his feet were retarded, held, and he fought a grim fight, as with invisible ghouls fastened greedily upon his limbs. //The youth’s friend went over the obstruction in a tumbling heap and sprang at the flag as a panther at prey.//The youth could detect no expression that would allow him to believe that the other was giving a thought to his narrowed future, the pictured dungeons, perhaps, and starvations and brutalities, liable to the imagination. His friend [Wilson] turned. “What’s the matter, Henry?” he demanded. The youth’s reply was an outburst of crimson oaths. It clung near him always and darkened his view of these deeds in purple and gold. Whichever way his thoughts turned they were followed by the somber phantom of the desertion in the fields. “Hasbrouch? He’s th’ best off’cer in this here reg’ment. He’s a whale.” ///With this conviction came a store of assurance. He felt a quiet manhood, nonassertive but of sturdy and strong blood. He knew that he would no more quail before his guides wherever they should point. He had been to touch the great death, and found that, after all, it was but the great death. He was a man.