the time. And another thing – we were both as cautious as a vixen with kits in
coping with Mrs Grundy.
I let him pick the times and places; he had a head for intrigue. Between us, we kept
each other toned down to a pleasant simmer without waking Mrs Grundy. I could
happily have married Nelson, despite his being younger than I, had we not been so
closely related. A dear boy. (Except for that lemon pie!)
They were not home for Christmas. But two more bodies came home. I attended each
funeral, for Chuck’s sake.
In January my brother Tom came marching home with his regiment. Mother and Frank
went to Kansas City to see the troop train arrive and the parade down Walnut, and
the countermarch back to the depot where most of them got back aboard to go on
terminal furlough at their home towns. I stayed home to take care of my sisters and
George, and thought privately that it was pretty noble of me.
Tom had a hand-carried letter for Mother:
Mrs Ira Johnson
Courtesy of Lance-Corporal T. J. Johnson,
C Company, 2nd Missouri Regiment.
Dear Madam,
I had hoped and expected to return home in the same train as our son Thomas. Indeed,
by the terms of enrolment under which I accepted appointment as surgeon in our state
militia on federal duty, I cannot be held more than ore hundred and twenty days
beyond the proclamation of peace, id est, the 12th of December last, or the 6thof
January, this current month – the difference in dates being a legal technicality now
moot.
I regret that I must inform you that the Surgeon General of the Army has asked me
and my professional colleagues to continue on duty here on a day to day basis until
our services can be spared, and that I have accepted.
We had thought that we bad these devastating fevers under control under control and
that we could dismantle the field hospitals here and send our remaining patients to
Fort Bragg. But, with the arrival three weeks ago of casuals and casualties from
Tampa, our hopes were dashed.
In short, Madam, my patients need me. I will come home as quickly as the Surgeon
General decides that I can be spared… under the spirit of the Oath of Hippocrates
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Heinlein, Robert A – To Sail Beyond the Sunset.txt
rather than through any quibble over the letter of the contract.
I trust that you will understand, as you have so many times in the past.
I remain, faithfully yours,
Your loving husband,
Ira Johnson, M.D.,
Captain (M.C.) AUS
Mother did not cry where anyone could see her… and I didn’t cry where anyone could
see me.
Late in February I received a letter from Mr Smith… postmarked Cincinnati!
Dear Miss Maureen,
By the time this reaches you I will have laid aside my Army blues and resumed
wearing mufti; our engineering battalion, Ohio militia, is rolling west as I write
this.
It is my dearest wish to see you and to resume my suit for your hand in matrimony.
With that prime purpose in mind, after a few days at home with my family, I purpose
going at once to Rolla with the intention of reenrolling. Although I was granted my
degree in April last year about six weeks early, that sheepskin does not supply me
with academic work that I missed. So I intend to make up what I lost, plus a bit
more for good measure – which puts me close to Thebes for each weekend (which is
what the wily fellow had in mind all along!).
May I hope to see you on Saturday afternoon March 4th, and again on Sunday, March
5th? A postal card should reach me at School of Mines – but if I do not hear from
you, I shall assume that your answer is Yes.
This train is moving too slowly to suit me!
My respects to your parents and my greetings to all your family.
While looking forward eagerly to the 4th,
I remain faithfully yours, Brian Smith, B.S.,
Sergeant, Eng. Battalion,
Ohio Militia (Federal Duty)
I reread it, then took a deep breath and held it, to slow my heart. Then I found