The Time Has Come

The Time Has Come

Gail D Prentice

    Suitcase in hand, you head to the station. Adrenaline courses faster and faster through your body every step closer to the platform. Stopping at the ticket window, you present a piece of paper to the ticket agent and very impatiently wait for your ticket.

“Cutting it close there, sonny. Your train is boarding right now, you had better hurry,” the agent said firmly. “This is a train you do not want to miss.”

Grabbing the ticket, he hurried down the platform to the first conductor he found. “Is this the train I need?”

Looking at the ticket, the conductor nods his head affirmative and shouts, “All aboard!” He waived his hand and stepped up into the train car and closed the gate behind himself.

“Enlist or drafted?” he asked.

“Enlisted in the Army. Nobody can attack the United States and get away with it,” heI answered proudly.

“Good for you son,” the conductor stated. “I served in the World War One. I came home with one leg missing, but we showed those Germans who was boss,” rapping his stiff leg with a cane as it clunked like a baseball bat against his wooden leg. “I would do it again if they would allow me the chance.”

“I see you are headed to Kentucky. Ft, Knox or Fort Campbell?”

“Fort Knox. Have you been there?”

“No, I went to boot camp at Camp Funston, Kansas. Odd place, Camp Funston. From there, I went to Camp Meade, Maryland for tank training. I was a tank commander.

“I lost my leg in Saint Michel, France, fighting the Germans. Only three of my crew survived when our tank was hit. Lost four great men that day.  But I am so proud that you enlisted, son. I know that you will do us proud.” The conductor went silent after that. The memories were evidently very painful to remember and discuss.

Clickety clack, clickety clack, the train rumbled down the tracks as it sped toward Kentucky. Looking around, the train was filled with young men, ages seventeen to twenty-five. Some looked nervous, some very cocky, and some beyond terrified.

“Scared? My name is Aaron.” a young man asked as he sat down in the next seat.

“A little, yes. Never been this far from home before. The thought of going of to war in Germany or somewhere else is a little scary. The thought of getting killed, scares the crap out of me.”

“Naw,” Aaron chuckled. “Dead is just dead. Everything just stops then.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he responded. “Aside from the grief and agony that it would put your family through, if you would even consider the slightest possibility of eternity being real, Heaven is a far better place to reside than Hell.”

“What makes you think that there is a Heaven and Hell?” Aaron asked.

“He doesn’t have to think that. He is right,” the conductor said as he passed by the seats where they sat. “I know this because I have been to Hell and it is somewhere you would not even want even your enemies to go.”

“Okay, then. Where is Hell?” the doubting Aaron asked.

“It started in France, in the belly of a tank during World War One. My tank was hit by the German artillery. My seven-man crew was instantly reduced to a three-man crew and we were all seriously wounded.

“I don’t know how I got out of there. I looked around…” the conductor paused,  “my leg had been severed completely from my body. I was bleeding profusely.  All I remember is things just growing dim until it went black.

“The next thing I experienced was a total blackness that was so hot I screamed out in pain. I screamed until I had no strength to scream any more and then screamed some more. The torment there was worse than any torture that you could possibly devise.

“You could feel other people bumping into you and shoving you around as they screamed at the top of their voice. They were trying to find somewhere cooler than where they were.

“It was surreal. I have never seen or undergone such darkness. You could see absolutely nothing. Not even the smallest flicker of a candle. The noise level was deafening. You couldn’t escape the horrendous shrieks of agony. The stench was so horribly that it burned my nose, sinuses, and all the way into my lungs like acid. It was putrid beyond words to describe it.”

Tears started streaming down the conductor’s face. What he had experienced in the past was now vividly alive in his heart as he spoke. The two young men sat there silently. The doubter, Aaron, shuddered in his seat.

“What happened next?” the doubting young man asked.

“That is hard to say,” the conductor continued. “The next thing I can truly remember is feeling the heat suddenly gone and my body racked in pain. I was in pain in parts of my body I didn’t even know that I had, but the heat, the horrendous smell, and the screams were gone.

“I opened my eyes when I heard a woman’s voice say, ‘We got him back.’” The conductor stopped and stifled a weep. “I saw an Army nurse hovering over me as she applied tourniquets to my arms and legs and applied gauze pads to many cuts on my chest and belly.

“I couldn’t tell any color except red. That was the blood that flowed from my head wounds into my eyes, and then I passed out.

“Fifteen days later, I awoke in an Army hospital, somewhere in the States. My wife was there holding my hand and crying.

“Yes, I have been to Hell. It is not a joking matter or a place to take lightly. With this war growing worse every day and the body count increasing daily, you had better know for a certainty that you have your life right with God. It just might be that there will not be anybody praying for your return, should you suffer a mortal wound.

“I was blessed. I had a believing and praying wife and mother. There is no doubt that their prayers is what sucked me out of Hell and gave me life again.”

Wiping his eyes and cheeks with his handkerchief, the conductor continued his walk down the aisle of the passenger car.

Aaron leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes.

Ten hours later, the train stopped at the Ft. Knox train station. Hundreds of young men headed to the steps to exit train and were greeted by a group of very loud soldiers with strange hats on their heads.

“Get your goat smelling carcasses off of that train and give me a formation right here,” they all shouted at the same time. Some cursed loudly, others were just loud. “We have Germans and Japs to fight, stop dawdling like a granny and get in formation!”

Suitcase in hand, you head into the station to take your place in the misaligned, ragtag assembly of Army recruits, enlistees, and draftees. The time has come, today begins boot camp.