A Lincoln Conscript - Homer Greene

For a moment no one spoke. But the soldiers who saw the meeting never forgot it.

Bannister, his voice lost in emotion and his eyes dim with tears, pointed to a paper lying on the captain’s table. He had tried to imagine how Bob would look in uniform, but he had not thought to see quite so straight, manly a figure, clear of eye, handsome of countenance, “every inch a soldier.” And the words of Mary Bannister, when he read Bob’s letter to her, came back into his mind and voiced his sentiment: “I’m proud of him. He’s the bravest boy in the world.”

“Private Bannister,” said the captain, “your father is here in custody of Lieutenant Forsythe of the regular army, who brings with him this letter.”

The captain then read impressively, with a sense of its true importance, the President’s letter to General Meade. When he reached the end and read the name “A. Lincoln,” every man in the tent lifted his cap reverently from his head.

“This communication,” continued the captain, “was delivered to the general commanding, by him endorsed and delivered to the division commander, then to the commander of our brigade, to the colonel of the regiment, and in due course has reached me. It has been endorsed as follows by all the officers through whose hands it has passed: ‘If not prejudicial to the service, let the President’s wish be carried out.’ There is therefore nothing left for me to do except to give the order for your discharge, and the mustering in of your father to take your place. Permit me to add, however, that we shall regret to lose you. During your brief term of service you have been a good soldier, a credit to the company and the army.”

In the silence that followed, the captain half rose from the table as if to close the interview. Then Bob found his voice.

“But, Captain Howarth,” he said, “I don’t want to be discharged. I don’t want to go home. I want to stay. I am old enough. I can march. I can do picket-duty. I can fight. But I can’t go back home now, it’s simply impossible.”