The Legend of Bagger Vance Read Online Free PDF Page B

had actually warped from the furious fire it had put forth. They were in fact overrun, Junah and his gunner surviving only after a desperate hand-to-hand struggle with bayonets and entrenching tools. Junah himself was gravely wounded and required nearly two years in the hospital, in England and the States, to recover.
    Junah’s heroism involved killing eleven Germans in this encounter; they were found dead around his position when the attack ended. He and his gunner were awarded the Medal of Honor, which Junah, for himself, refused to accept. His brigade commander was compelled to claim it for him, with Junah intractable in his hospital bed.
    After the armistice, Langer continued, Junah was transferred stateside to a veterans hospital in upstate New York. Upon his release in 1920, he chose not to return to Savannah, or even to remain in America, but took ship immediately for Germany. There, in the ruins of that shattered nation, he sought out all eleven families of the soldiers he had killed. Most had suffered terribly. Some rebuffed him, some slammed doors inhis face, others broke down and embraced him with appreciation for his gesture and his courage.
    “Of all things,” Langer addressed my mother, “Junah wound up marrying the sister of one of the soldiers he had slain. Apparently they were very much in love, had a daughter within a year, and were planning on returning to the States. Then Junah’s bride herself died tragically in an outbreak of typhus. It’s not clear exactly what happened with Captain Junah over the next several years. Apparently this final death was more than he could bear. Something broke inside him. He turned over his infant daughter to the care of her Bavarian grandmother and vanished into that seething ferment that was postwar Europe. Reports placed him in Paris for a time, among expatriate artists and writers, then traveling by ship, working his way it seems. He was in the East, India, Ceylon, the Himalayas. He returned briefly to Savannah in ’27, as you know, and tried to pick up the threads of a normal life, even campaigning with some success on the amateur golf circuit. But this attempt apparently failed to quell his restless questing. He set out again two years ago, traveling, reading, studying, seeking heaven only knows what.
    “Throughout these peregrinations, Captain Junah, it seems, has been accompanied by a mysterious servant who, though technically in Junah’s employ, is said to exercise tremendous influence over him. The fellow appears and reappears at random intervals; no one knows when or where he and Junah first became acquainted, or even the man’s name….”
    “You mean Bagger Vance!” I blurted. “He’s here now. He’s caddying for Mr. Junah in the match!”
    Both Langer and his friend reacted with instant interest. “You mean the fellow really exists,” Langer queried, “and is still in Junah’s employ?”
    I confirmed this with vehemence. “Heck, if it wasn’t for him, Mr. Junah wouldn’t even be playing tomorrow! When I got out to his house last night, he was dead drunk. Two in the morning and couldn’t hardly stand….”
    I became aware of my mother clearing her throat rather dramatically. Both scribes’ eyes were wide open now, bony shoulders thrusting forward like vultures. I saw at once my faux pas. My mother’s hands were tugging me from my chair, explaining to my interrogators that her son must study (even though school had been let out for the rest of the week) and how they, as experienced interviewers and journalists, must know never to put credence in a young boy’s tales, which are so notoriously exaggerated. Langer, ignoring this, was just framing his next question when the screen door banged open and the day was saved by my brother Garland, bursting excitedly in.
    “Get your shoes on, boy! Jones and Hagen, they come in early!”
    “What? How…” I stammered.
    “They’re sneaking in on an early train, to duck the crowds. Come on now or