- Historic Sites
A Summer’s Wait
A young poet’s memories of the old rural America in whose fields he worked for two sunny months while awaiting the call to service in the First World War
June/July 1979 | Volume 30, Issue 4
Innumerable little scenes and actions present themselves to be recounted now, but I must let them fall back into my memory and go on to what, after all, was to have been the center of this relation, the army.
Towards the last of July the initial drawing of numbers was made at Washington by Secretary of War Baker and others. On that day I was hauling limestone from Royal. I drove into the lane with my last load about dusk, to find Bowen and Moler and Lavonne standing in a little group at the barnyard gate. I knew at once what they had to say, and was not in the least moved when Bowen announced, “Your Dad telephoned and said you’re drafted.” “Good,” I returned, and drove on in to unhitch. I think I was more relieved than anything else. To be chosen among the first, to have all settled so easily, to know for once what I should be doing soon, was blessed, and I unhitched with a light heart and a strange glow in my breast.