The Christmas Victory

His heart was in his throat as he boarded the train for Washington. He hated to disobey his father and cause him more pain, but his country needed him. The rebels must be put down and the country re-united once again. He carried only a small knapsack containing his tooth brush and underwear. He entered the train and seated himself beside another, though somewhat older, young man.

After nodding a greeting, the gentleman noticed the knapsack and asked, “Traveling rather light, aren't you?”

“If it's any of your business, I'm going to join the army of the Potomac. I figure they issue all the clothes and food you need.”

“Going to join the army are you?” the stranger snarled. “Now why would you want to do a fool thing like that?”

“Why to serve my country, put down those no good rebels and bring back National unity.”

The young man laughed. “Quite an idealistic viewpoint, if I dare say so. And quite a coincidence it is that we should meet here, for I, Sir, have left that war for good. I was in it some time back for a grand total of two weeks and that was two weeks too long. Of course I happened to be on the other side, but that’s entirely immaterial, because—“

Charles scowled and interrupted. “So, you were one o’ them no good rebs?”

The stranger laughed, a big hearty laugh and said “I guess you could say I that—that I WAS--but not anymore. And, as I was startin’ t’ say, that’s immaterial since—“

“Whata y’ mean, immaterial?”

I mean it’s unimportant which side I was on, as I’m not really sure why I joined up in the first place. I guess I wasn’t really thinkin’ too clearly. I shouldn’t have listened to my hometown boys and their rumors of government interference.   The other issues were just too confusin’, and in re-thinkin’ it, I came t’ realize there just ain’t no good reason fer fightin’ a war like this, no matter which side yer on.”

Charles sighed. “Well, I guess if more rebs thought like you, there’d be no more war.”

  “I guess so. I was gonna get out anyway, but, when we got word that a top general was bringin' his unit to attack ours, thank God, our whole unit got skeered and had the good sense to disband before we could get hit. Believe me, buddy, war is hell and this war is a foolish waste of time and manpower, and I'm now going to get as far away from the rest of it as I can possibly get.”

“But, it's happening everywhere. You can't escape it.”

“Well, I can sure try.”

Now Charles' curiosity was peaked. “Where are you going?”

“I'm going west. I'm taking this train to St. Louis, and from there I'll take the stage coach going west.”

“So you think you can outrun the war?”

“I'll sure try. I'm a writer and I surely don't want to end up dead on some field of battle before I've had a chance to really practice my art. And besides, I figure I can find quite a bit of colorful things to write about in the west.”

“You're a writer, eh? My father's a writer.”

“Really? What's his name?”

“Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.”

The stranger scratched his head. “Longfellow—ah, yes, I’ve read some of his poems. He’s quite a poet. And you’re his son?”

 “Yes, I'm Charles Longfellow. What's your name?”

“Samuel Clemens. I'm glad to meet you, Charles.” He reached out his hand and they shook.