Johnny Got His Gun

by Dalton Trumbo

  “Last night I guess. Hey look what I got. They just sent it over from the dispatcher’s office.”

  Howie stuck something in front of his face and turned his pocket flashlight on it. They had remembered to bring a flashlight even if they had forgotten gloves. It was a telegram Howie was showing him. The corners of it were all bloody where Howie had been holding it. It read Dear Howie why were you so impetuous stop I am miserable thinking what you have done stop please forgive me and come right back to Shale City stop I hate Glen Hogan stop love Onie.

  Even in the dimness of the bunkhouse he could see the happiness on Howie’s face. So Onie hated Glen Hogan did she? Well he knew why and if Howie didn’t know why then Howie was a fool. Onie hated Glen Hogan because Glen had thrown her over for Diane. He thought about this for a little bit and about how much prettier Diane was than Onie and about how the whole thing showed what good judgment Glen Hogan had. Then he saw that Howie was waiting for an answer. When he tried to answer he found he could only whisper.

  “Why do you have to wake a guy up who needs sleep as bad as I do just to show him that?”

  “Because I got it all figured out.”

  “Uh.”

  Howie began to whisper very excitedly.

  “It’s just like this. For fellows like you and me to be out here slaving our best years away on a section gang is just as if girls nice girls like Onie and Diane suddenly decided to become washerwomen.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just lay there and thought about it. He could see the point all right. The idea of Diane being a washerwoman was so awful he just closed his eyes again. Howie was whispering at him.

  “Of course since Onie feels that way I hardly know what to do about the poor kid.”

  He just lay there with his eyes closed saying nothing.

  “It isn’t as if I didn’t have a reason to go back. It’s almost as if it was my duty to.”

  He just lay there limp. But he was listening to Howie very closely.

  “The dispatcher says there’s a gravel train going through here tonight bound for Shale City.”

  Still he didn’t say anything. Still he listened.

  “It would get us there in an hour.”

  He kind of moved his leg to show he was still awake listening.

  “That gravel train goes through here in ten minutes.”

  He jumped off his bunk and in one motion had his bed roll over his shoulders. Howie stared at him in surprise.

  “What you doing?”

  He gave Howie a look to show the whole thing was on Howie’s shoulders.

  “Well if you’re bound and determined to back out on our agreement I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop you. If we’re going to get that gravel train we better be getting outside.”

  Most of the way riding into Shale City he thought about Bill Harper. He thought to himself only last night I hit Bill Harper. He thought to himself Bill Harper was my best friend and he was telling me the truth and I hit him for it. He lay back against the gravel and stared up at the stars. He thought how he and Bill Harper had sat in the drug store and how Bill Harper had hemmed and hawed and how he had finally come to the point. He remembered all over again the rage he felt when Bill Harper told him that Diane was going out that night with Glen Hogan. He knew it was probably true or Bill Harper wouldn’t have told him. Yet he had stood up and he had called Bill Harper a liar and he had hit Bill Harper and knocked him down and then he had walked out of the drug store alone.

  On the way home he had run into Diane and Glen Hogan just getting out of Glen’s roadster and going into the Elysium theatre. Then he knew that Bill Harper had been telling him the truth. He knew that Diane had been cheating on him.

  Down the block he met Howie. Howie had been having trouble with Onie over Glen Hogan so they both decided to leave it all and go out into the desert and work like men and forget about it. It wasn’t like he and Howie were the same. Howie had never been able to keep a girl. He kind of resented Howie including him in his class. But he wanted to get away so badly that when Howie suggested it he said let’s go tomorrow.

  He lay on the gravel car and remembered all the camping trips and the swell times he and Bill Harper had had together. He remembered the first time either of them took a girl out. They made it a foursome because they were so scared. He remembered the time Major his pup was run over and how Bill came over that night with his old man’s car and took him riding out in the country until after midnight and didn’t say a word all that time because Bill knew how he felt. He remembered lots of other times too and he thought Bill Harper is too good a friend to lose over any girl. He thought Bill is too good a friend to lose even over Diane and tomorrow I will tell him so. Tomorrow I will go over to his house and say Bill let’s forget about it. Bill let’s be friends because it won’t ever happen again.

  And then as the gravel train got closer to Shale City he thought back to Diane again. In the coolness of the night he could bring her face up before his mind. He hadn’t been able to do it out there on the desert. He could bring her face up before his mind and she was smiling. He thought Howie believed he had lost Onie but he hadn’t because Onie admitted she was wrong and asked him to come back. He thought besides I don’t want Diane running around with Glen Hogan. Anybody but Glen Hogan. Just because Glen had a good looking car he seemed to think he could take liberties with a girl that the ordinary guy would never think of. He felt scary whenever he thought of Diane and Glen Hogan together. He saw where it was more or less his duty to see Diane and talk to her like a brother and tell her about Glen Hogan. He knew that he had to save Diane the embarrassment of finding out for herself what kind of guy Glen Hogan was. He must do that even at the expense of his pride.

  They dropped off the gravel train just outside the station because they didn’t want anybody to see them they were such sights. They walked for two blocks and then Howie stopped.

  “Well I’ll be leaving you here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Thought I’d drop by Onie’s house.”

  Howie said it in a dreamy kind of way and a little insinuating too because he knew there was no place for Joe to go but home. Howie who could never keep a girl. Huh!

  Howie walked off into the darkness. He was all alone. He started home. Shale City seemed like the prettiest town in the world that night. The sky was pale blue and there were about a million stars shining. The trees were all black-green and a cool breeze was playing through them. It seemed all of a sudden as if the desert and the section gang had never existed at all. He was awfully tired but there was no one watching him to see that he kept moving and he knew he could stop and rest whenever he wanted to and somehow he had got his second wind so he didn’t even notice the weight of his bed roll. He just seemed to drift along there in the cool. It was a little after eleven o’clock.

  And then he suddenly knew why he felt so good when all the time he should be feeling bad. It was because he was on Diane’s street. He hadn’t deliberately planned to be there because it was a couple of blocks out of his way and he was really awfully tired. It just seemed that something pulled him over to that street and he was glad for it. Even on ordinary nights he always had the funniest feeling when he got near Diane’s house. He always got tight in his throat and half way excited and half way scared whenever he came near to where she lived.

  Then all of a sudden he thought here you can’t be passing Diane’s house all bloody-handed and dirty like you are now. You can’t run the risk of letting her see you in this condition. So he went across the street and started walking on his tip toes as if she might be asleep and the very sound of his footsteps might wake her and frighten her. And all the time something inside him was saying tomorrow you’ll see her tomorrow you’ll see her tomorrow you’ll see her.

  Then just across from her place he stopped still and quit breathing. Diane was there on the front steps with her arms around somebody and somebody’s arms around her. They were kissing. He didn�
��t do anything. He just stood there a little behind a tree and watched. He didn’t want to watch and yet he wanted to watch more than anything else he could think of. He felt ashamed watching and yet he couldn’t move one inch from the spot. He just stood there. He just stood there and watched.

  Pretty soon the guy she was kissing let her go and Diane ran up the steps in that funny little way she always had and turned just as she got to the door to smile. He couldn’t see her face of course but he knew she was smiling. A minute of that and then whoever she had been kissing turned away and began coming down the walk. He was whistling. He was whistling softly and kind of bouncing up and down as he walked away from having kissed Diane. When he got out from between the trees the starlight fell on his face. It was Bill Harper.

  Still he stood there. Bill Harper walked on down the street and turned the corner. The light in Diane’s living room went on and off. Next the light in her bedroom came on. He saw her shadow on the curtain twice as she crossed. Then the light went off. He stood there and thought goodbye Diane goodbye.

  Then he started walking home.

  Every muscle in his body was sore. His hands and his stomach and his head throbbed and burned. The bed roll seemed to weigh a hundred pounds almost. But that wasn’t what hurt him. It was something inside of him kept saying you’re no good. You’re just no good.

  People would ask why don’t I see you and Diane together any more? and there would be nothing he could say. People would ask what’s the matter with you and Bill Harper that we don’t see you around any more? and there would be nothing he could say. His dad would ask how come you got a job on the section gang and stayed only one day? and there would be nothing he could say.

  It was all over. It was something he could never explain. Something nobody would understand. He had lost the only friend he might have told it to. Because he knew that he and Bill could never again be what they had been. They might shake hands and say forget it old man and start bumming around together a little but it wouldn’t be the same. And both of them would know it. Both of them would know that Diane was there between them. Both of them would also know that Diane probably didn’t care but that wouldn’t make things any different for them. They’d never be able to explain it even to themselves.

  But more than that he thought about Diane. It seemed like dying to think he would never see her again really and that he would never be close to her again and that they would never laugh and kid each other again. It wasn’t Glen Hogan who had done it. He could have forgiven her for Glen Hogan. He could have forgiven her for that and tried to make it all up. The awful thing was that she had done something he couldn’t forgive her for ever no matter how much he wanted to. And he did want to. He did want to awfully. But he never could.

  Going to bed he thought oh why does a guy have to go through something like this? He thought why don’t they take him out and shoot him while there’s still something worth while in him? He thought why everybody has a best friend. Even guys in the penitentiary probably have best friends somewhere. But I haven’t. He thought even Howie has a girl. Even those Mexicans singing on their way out of the desert have girls. But I haven’t. He thought why everybody can find some little spark of self respect inside himself. Even a murderer or a thief or a dog or an ant has something that keeps its head up and going. But I haven’t.

  That night in bed was the first time he ever cried over a girl. He just lay there and bawled like a kid. His hands were bloody and his legs were full of thistles and his eyes were full of tears and he was sick at heart. It took him a long time to go to sleep.

  It all seemed so real at the time and now it wasn’t real at all. That was a long time ago. That was in Shale City. That was before he came to Los Angeles. That was when he was a kid in high school. It seemed so long ago. Somewhere probably in Colorado Glen Hogan and Howie were still kicking around. He had got a letter once saying Bill Harper had been killed at Belleau Wood. Bill Harper was a lucky guy. Bill Harper had got Diane and then he had been killed.

  Oh Christ he was all mixed up again. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. But he was cooling off. He wasn’t burning up any more. He was just light headed and confused and he couldn’t figure things out. Everything was a mess but at least he was cool.

  v

  He couldn’t get used to the way things were melting into each other. Sometimes he was drifting on top of white clouds frightened at his smallness in the midst of a thing so big as the sky. Sometimes he was cushioned in soft pillows that had a way of sliding him feet first over rough and uneven ground. But mostly he was floating in some backwash of the Colorado River where it wandered through Shale City. He was lying in the water of a river that ran through home long before he came to Los Angeles long before he met Kareen long long before he went away on a bunting-covered train with the mayor making speeches.

  He was floating on his back. There were willows near the edge of the water and sweet clover. There was hot sunshine on his face but his stomach and back were cool from water that had been snow in the mountains not long ago. He was floating there and thinking about Kareen.

  It’s fine Kareen floating here. Lie back more like this like that. Isn’t it nice Kareen I love it I love you. Float Kareen keep your head out of the water so you can breathe. Keep real close to me Kareen isn’t it swell floating here not going anywhere and not even caring to go anywhere? Just letting the river take care of things. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. Being on top of the river cool and hot and thoughtful yet not thinking a thing.

  Stay closer Kareen. Don’t go away. Closer closer Kareen and watch out for the water coming over your face. I can’t turn over on my stomach to swim Kareen I can only float so please don’t go so far away. Kareen where are you I can’t find you and the water was coming over your face. Don’t sink Kareen don’t let the water come over your face. Come back Kareen you’ll choke you’ll fill up like I’m filling up. You’ll go down Kareen watch out please watch out. Come back Kareen. You’re gone. You weren’t even there. Just me alone in the river with water coming over my nose and mouth and eyes.

  The water was washing over his face and he couldn’t stop it. It was like his head was too heavy for his body and he couldn’t let it lie back without sinking. Or maybe his body was too light for his head so that there wasn’t enough weight to balance his head and keep it high. The water was lapping over his eyes and nose and mouth and he was sputtering from it. It seemed like he was going feet first on his back against the stream only he was going like a sled with his feet and legs entirely out of the water and his head below the surface. He was going faster and faster and if he didn’t stop why he’d drown from so much water rushing over his face.

  He was beginning to drown already. He strained the muscles of his neck trying to raise his nose out of the water but it wouldn’t come up. He tried to swim but how can a man swim if he hasn’t got any arms? He sank down and down and down and finally he drowned. It seemed like he drowned without even a struggle way down in the dark bottom of the river while above him maybe only six or eight feet there was sunlight and willows and sweet clover and air. He drowned without a struggle because he couldn’t struggle. He didn’t seem to have anything to struggle with. It was like a bad dream where someone is chasing you and you’re scared to death only there’s nothing to do about it because you can’t run. Your legs are stuck in concrete and you can’t move a muscle. That was why he drowned.

  He lay there under the water and thought what a shame it is to drown when you’re maybe only six or eight feet from air and sunlight. What a goddam shame it is to drown when if you could only stand up and stretch your hand above your head you might touch a willow branch trailing in the water like the hair of a girl like Kareen’s hair. But when you’re drowned you can’t stand up. When you’re dead and drowned there’s nothing left except time going on and on like water over your body.

  Things began to shoot back and forth in front of his eyes. Rockets and bombs and pinwheels and curves
of fire and great white flares whirled through his head and sank into the soft wet part of his brain with a hissing sound. He could hear the hissing very plainly. It was like the escape of steam from a locomotive. He could hear explosions and howls and whines and words that didn’t mean anything and whistles too high and shrill that they cut through his ears like knives. Everything was dazzling and deafening. It hurt so much that he thought all the pain in the world was trapped somewhere between his forehead and the back of his skull and trying to hammer its way out. The pain was so bad that all he could think of was please please please I’d rather die.

  Then things quieted down all of a sudden. Everything went still inside his head. The lights before his eyes snapped out as quickly as if somebody had shut them off with a switch. The pain went away too. The only feeling he had was the strong throb of blood in his brain swelling and contracting his head. But it was peaceful. It was painless. It was such a relief that he came out of his drowning. He could think.

  He thought well kid you’re deaf as a post but there isn’t the pain. You’ve got no arms but you don’t hurt. You’ll never burn your hand or cut your finger or smash a nail you lucky stiff. You’re alive and you don’t hurt and that’s much better than being alive and hurting. There are lots of things a deaf guy without arms can do if he doesn’t hurt so much he goes crazy from pain. He can get hooks or something for arms and he can learn to read lips and while that doesn’t exactly put him on top of the world still he’s not drowned in the bottom of a river with pain tearing his brain to pieces. He’s still got air and he’s not struggling and he’s got willow trees and he can think and he’s not in pain.

  He couldn’t understand why the nurses or whoever had charge of him wouldn’t lay him out level. The lower half of him was light as a feather while his head and chest were dead weights. That was why he had thought he was drowning. His head was too low. If he could move whatever was under his legs and bring his body to an even level he’d feel better. He wouldn’t have that drowning dream any more.