Billy Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Mind you, I support the war we’re fighting. My son, Billy, though—well, he can’t read or nothing.”
    Lieutenant Colonel Merrill laughed. “We have many soldiers who don’t know how to read—or write.”
    â€œBilly ain’t ever gonna read. He can’t learn simple things. Well, sir, his mind just don’t work the way most folks’ do.”
    â€œMr. Laird,” Merrill replied firmly, “your son is over eighteen and has willingly volunteered. He’ll report for training in two weeks, same as the others. In any event, his name is on the draft list. If we don’t meet our quota here, your son will be in the army regardless.”
    â€œYou mean he’s gonna get signed up no matter what?”
    â€œIt’s entirely possible. No doubt before this war is over.”
    It was quiet for a moment. Billy chewed nervously on his thumbnail.
    â€œOf course, Mr. Laird, you have the option of hiring a substitute.”
    â€œA substitute?”
    â€œYou pay someone else to take your son’s place. I hear that’s going now for up to three hundred dollars.”
    Billy heard Pa let out a huge sigh. “I’m just a farmer. Only money I know is in the fields I harvest, the woods I hunt. Most ends up on our table. Sell just enough crops and lumber to pay my taxes.”
    â€œI know it’s a great deal of money, Mr. Laird.”
    â€œIt’s just that he ain’t like the rest of us. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
    â€œThe army needs soldiers, not excuses.” The officer stood and scraped his chair across the floor. “A good soldier needs to have courage and to follow orders. And, I might add, none of that requires reading.”
    Pa slapped his cap hard over his knee, over and over again. “Billy don’t know how to manage alone.”
    Billy could barely hear him now.
What if Pa’s telling him about the hay?
His heart pounded against his chest. The officer had told him he had to finish his chores, and right off he went and ruined the hay.
    â€œHe’ll belong to a company with very capable officers. Colonel Roberts is an outstanding man. Your son will be fine—and he won’t be alone.” The straps of his satchel buckled into place, the officer pushed away from the desk.
    Pa moved slowly from the chair, glanced into the hallway at Billy, and then hesitated at the door, his fingers fidgeting with the rim of his tattered cap.
    â€œSeems to me every man’s alone on the battlefield when there’s a loaded rifle pointed right at you! And Billy, why, he—” Stopping in midsentence, Pa put on his cap and stormed out of the office.
    Billy leaped from his chair. “Pa? What happened, Pa? Is he sore at me? You tell him about the hay?”
    Without so much as a glance at Billy, Pa hurried past, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the dark, his shoulders hunched against the rain.
    Frightened, Billy hurried after him, shouting, stumbling in the muddied street.
    Finally, Pa stopped, wiped the rain from his face, and waited.
    â€œPa?”
    Pa stared long and hard. Billy shivered but said nothing.
    Suddenly Pa reached over and placed an arm around Billy’s shoulders. His voice cracked with emotion.
    â€œLet’s go home, son.”
    â€œPa?”
    â€œBilly, I didn’t tell him about the hay.”

Chapter 4
    B illy nudged his way through the railroad car as the train pulled slowly away from the station. The noise around him was deafening. Men pushed and shoved, their bodies reeking of sweat and tobacco. Harry and Leighton were at the window, their bodies leaning halfway out. Desperate for a glimpse of his family, Billy wormed his way between them. Propping his elbows on the sill, he looked out across the crowded platform.
So many folks saying good-bye.
Children jumped at the windows and ran beside the slow-moving train. American flags and ladies’