“Sort of makes a man glad he’s an American to be living in these days, eh, Ben?”
“The rest of the world thought we’d gone soft, but your old Uncle Sam has shown that he still has fighting stuff in him. It took us some time to get stirred up, but once started—woof!”
“We’ve got a big job on our hands,” said Ben.
“The bigger the better,” declared Carter. “It takes a big job to wake us up.”
The boy was surprised and encouraged by his father’s aggressive attitude, and yet when he ventured to reintroduce the subject of ambulance service he saw his father shy off again. He was puzzled by this and went away after lunch to meet his chum Stanley.
A week later, as Carter was about to settle down on the front porch for an after-dinner smoke, Ben came along, took his arm and led him down the graveled path toward the road—out of sight of the house, where Mrs. Carter was washing the dishes. The boy kept his father’s arm in an unusually demonstrative manner until he stopped beneath an electric light.
Then he asked quite casually: “Dad, got your fountain pen with you?”
“What in thunder is this?” demanded Carter.
“My enlistment papers, dad. I went down to the Marine Recruiting Office the other day and passed my physical. Now—they’ve left a place along the dotted line for you to sign because I’m under age.”
The thing that astonished Carter most after the initial shock was a feeling of helplessness. It was as though his relations with his son had suddenly changed and the son had become the father. He was a foot shorter than the boy anyway, and now he felt two feet shorter. He saw a new light in the boy’s eyes, heard a fresh note of dominance. And yet it was only a brief time ago—a pitifully brief time ago—that he had been holding this same boy in his arms as a baby. Now he stood at the lad’s mercy, even though he still saw below the stalwart figure of the boy-man the downy-headed baby.
“Good Lord!” he choked. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re all I’ve got.”
The young man placed a steady hand upon his father’s shoulder.
“You must take this thing right, dad,” he said firmly.
“I’d never forgive myself if I waited,” cut in Ben. “I’ve heard too much from the fellows who’ve been over there and seen. I want you to understand that it isn’t the adventure of the thing that gets me. It’s the right of it. I’m strong enough for the game, and that’s all that counts. Another year wouldn’t make me any more fit.”