“I’m sure it will.” Ezekiel chuckled.
“Have you gotten your pardon yet?” Gabriel asked, squeezing Ezekiel’s arm.
“Not yet, but I would imagine it won’t be much longer.”
“I hope so my friend. I got my pardon today.”
“That’s terrific Gabriel,” Ezekiel said, shaking his soon to be brother-in-law’s hand.
***
Three more days passed before Ezekiel knew more about his pardon from the war. When a jeep showed up at his doorstep, Ezekiel met them on the porch. “Ezekiel Adam Miller?”
“I’m Ezekiel Miller.”
“We’re here to pick you up son. You’ve been officially drafted into the U.S. Military. You start boot camp tomorrow at Fort Benning, Georgia.
“I don’t understand,” Ezekiel said, dumbfounded. “I am Amish. We object to war. I cannot fight sir.”
“That’s what boot camp is for. It’ll teach you how to fight. Don’t worry son. Four years and you’ll be a civilian again. I have a feeling you’ll do very well in the army.”
“But I filled out a conscientious object packet. The Amish don’t believe in fighting, nor hand-to-hand combat. Combat of any sort really.”
“We never received a conscientious objector profile on you Mr. Miller. We also don’t have any proof, besides you living here, that you’re Amish by birth. According to our records, you’re an orphan, a parent-less child who was more than likely adopted into the community.”
“That can’t be.” Ezekiel rushed on, desperate. “There hasn’t been an adoption in our community in decades, literally.”
“Whether it’s true or not,” the officer said, his voice brooking no argument. “You’re scheduled for boot camp son. Being a draft, there’s no option to back out. You’ve got two days to get yourself on a bus to Georgia.”
“But sir, the Amish don’t use public transportation. I don’t even know-“
“No excuses Mr. Miller. Two days. If you don’t show, you’ll be considered a deserter and trust me, you don’t want that.”
With that, the officer turned on his heel and headed for his car. With a heavy foot, he took off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Ezekiel felt numb, as if someone had somehow deprived him of the ability to feel anything. Looking down at the conscription notice in his hand, he felt as if his whole world was falling apart. Knowing he needed to talk to Rebekah, Ezekiel ran all the way to her house, fearing a horse and buggy would take too long to set up.
“Zeke?” Rebekah called. He waved to let her know he heard her and then took a minute to catch his breath.
“I got…drafted.” The words came out hoarse and rushed. Thrusting the paper into her hands, he let her read his fate.
“I don’t understand,” Rebekah said. “I… I thought we were conscientious objectors to war.”
“We are. When Gabriel and I filed our objections, we did it on the same day. The man told me today that they had no record of my conscientious objector profile and that as far as they knew I was an orphan who’d been adopted into the community. I tried to tell him that we don’t believe in adoption and he said he didn’t really know for sure, but that I had two days to get on a bus for Georgia or they’d label me a deserter.”
“Is that even possible?” Rebekah asked. “Daddy!”
“What is it Rebekah?”
“Zeke’s been drafted into the American war.”
“You filed your conscientious objector papers with Gabriel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm,” Gideon Beiler said, scratching his head. “Well, all I can say is that you should show up. Perhaps they’ll have someone there who can help you figure this all out.”
“Daddy.” Rebekah interjected. “The officer who spoke to Zeke said that they had an orphan record for him and that he’d probably been adopted into the community. Could that be true?”
“Not from where I’m sitting.” Gideon shook his head. “I’ve known the Millers since before Ezekiel came along. They’re good, upstanding people.”
“Thank you Mr. Beiler,” Ezekiel said. “It means a lot to hear that about my parents. I suppose I need to tell them about this. Would it be okay to come by and spend time with Rebekah after supper?”
“Why don’t you invite your family over? It’ll be nice to have some company. You’ll be able to sit with Rebekah for quite a while that way. Perhaps Mrs. Beiler will even bundle you for tonight Rebekah.”
***
Rebekah waited until they were alone on the porch before she opened up her heart. “Oh Zeke.” she cried. “We were so close. This winter would have been our wedding. With this mess up, who knows how long it’ll be now before we can marry.”
“Don’t say that sweetheart,” Ezekiel said, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her long, dark hair. “Give it a couple weeks. I’m sure they’ll realize their mistake as soon as I point it out to them. I could be back here in under a week.”
“I just have a bad feeling about this is all.” Rebekah pouted. The next morning as the sun was rising, Rebekah rode with Mr. and Mrs. Miller to take Ezekiel to the bus station. He was bound for Ft. Benning, Georgia, hoping and praying that somehow someone had made a mistake. He hoped he’d wake up the next morning to find that it was all a dream; that he could head back to his life. He wanted to settle down, do a barn raising, marry Rebekah and get on with living the life he had planned. War wasn’t part of that life, it never had been and to his way of thinking, never would be.
“Please God, let this have been some sort of crazy mistake…” Ezekiel prayed, as the bus he was on headed for Indiana. Twenty-four long hours later Ezekiel’s bus stopped in Columbus, Georgia. He gathered his bag and headed for an army recruitment area. He was immediately thankful that he wasn’t the only one waiting, but there was a noticeably stark difference between him and everyone else. His clothes were dark and singular in color. His hair was neatly trimmed, save the full beard he sported. He took his hat off his head and held it in his shaky hands.
“Welcome to the army, recruits!” a loud, balding man shouted. “Come this way and we’ll get you on your way to where you’re going!” Ezekiel stepped up front and said, “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake sir.”
“Yeah?” the burly man chuckled. “Let me guess, someone messed up and you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Yes sir. I’m Amish sir, from Lancaster Pennsylvania. The Amish don’t believe in war, or violence, for that matter. I sent in a conscientious objector report, but it got lost from what I could gather.”
“Well son, until it’s found, it’s my job to get you to Ft. Benning for processing. That’s exactly what I’m going to do, so you just step up here with everyone else and one way or another, we’ll get it straightened out.”
“Thank you sir.”
“No problem.” the man laughed.
Ezekiel prayed earnestly under his breath that God would spare him from the horror of war. He didn’t have to be told stories to know that it never solved anything. Violence never made anything better.
***
“Welcome to the Army dirt bags!” another loud voice yelled, as they descended from the bus. “For the next six weeks you’ll be my personal maggots. You’ll sleep when I say to, you’ll eat what I say, and when I say. You’ll live to perform my every whim. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” everyone said in unison, except Ezekiel.
“I can’t hear you dirt bags!”
“Yes, sir!” everyone said again.
“Let’s move!” Ezekiel picked up his bag and followed everyone else. By the time lights out came around, Ezekiel felt raw, hollowed-out inside. Not only was he far from his personal reality, he was exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally he was wiped out. He’d passed his physical with flying colors and even when he’d objected to the inoculations, he’d been given them anyways. Sleep didn’t come for him easily. His thoughts reached to the farm he’d left unattended, the home he was building, and the w
oman he was building it for.
“Good Morning Recruits!” Ezekiel, who’d been up most of the night, stood at attention like the other men by his side. “Get used to this schedule, because it’s going to be your best friend for the next six weeks. Get dressed and file outside!”
Ten minutes later they were running. “We’ll do three miles every morning and every afternoon. Afternoon runs will include full packs, so be prepared. When chow time comes, eat, because you’ll need the fuel. Let’s pick it up!”
Ezekiel learned the Army’s number one marching song, “The Army Goes Rolling Along,” within that first day. Although it wasn’t music he was accustomed to, he found that it did indeed lift the morale of the men around him.
March along, sing our song, with the Army of the free.
Count the brave, count the true, who have fought to victory.
We’re the Army and proud of our name. We’re the Army and proudly proclaim.
First to fight for the right and to build the nation’s might and the Army goes rolling along.
Proud of all we have done fighting ‘til the battle’s won and the Army goes rolling along.
Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey! The Army’s on its way. Count off the cadence loud and strong. For where e’er we go, you will always know that the Army goes rolling along.
Valley Forge, Custer’s ranks, San Juan Hill and Patton’s tanks and the Army went rolling along.
Minute men from the start, always fighting from the heart and the Army keeps rolling along.
Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey! The Army’s on its way. Count off the cadence loud and strong. For where e’er we go, you will always know that the Army keep rolling along.
Men in rags, men who froze, still that Army met its foes and the Army went rolling along.
Faith in God, then we’re right and we’ll fight with all our might as the Army keeps rolling along.
Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey! The Army’s on its way. Count off the cadence loud and strong (Two! Three!) For where e’er we go you will always know that the Army goes rolling along. Keep it rolling! And the Army goes rolling along.
After breakfast, Ezekiel’s wrote to Rebekah before their indoctrination and curiosity course he was scheduled for. Then it was a full day of classes, periodically broken up by chow time. Right after his last class, it was the second three-mile run with an eighty-pound ruck sack slung across his back.
January 21, 1942.
Dearest Rebekah,
I pray this letter finds you safe and sound. It’s now my second day of full courses and physical training. My third day with the English and I’m still overwhelmed. They have a way of speaking that confuses me. Most of the words they say, especially what they call slang, is odd to me. I find myself daydreaming of home. I miss seeing you on Sunday nights. I miss hearing your voice lifted in praise to God. How are our relatives? I’m thankful Gabriel isn’t here with me, although truthfully I could use a friend. I’m terribly lonely here, so I focus all my energy on doing what I’m told to the best of my ability. I think the other men jest on my behalf, but right now I can’t think on that. Besides, classes to train me in the art of being a soldier, we take runs every morning and night. I find myself in reasonably good shape compared to my unit. The rifles they use are similar to what we have and I am on my way to earning my marksmanship ribbon. While my drill sergeant doesn’t congratulate me, he doesn’t yell as much when we’re doing target practice, which is nice. I’m including a self-addressed envelope so you can write me back. I’m already looking forward to hearing from you. I love you Rebekah!
Love Always,
Zeke
***
Rebekah toted laundry out to the line, finally letting the tears fall. She’d become so used to seeing Ezekiel nearly every day that his absence left an ache in her heart that actually caused her pain. Her body trembled as the sobs racked her body. On shaky legs, she stood and started pinning clothes up. She thought about Ezekiel’s letter that had arrived in the mail earlier. She’d clung to the hope that he would be home soon, until his letter had arrived. She knew then that there would be no returning for him, at least not yet. How terrible it must be for him, to be drafted into a war he didn’t believe in. Sniffling, Rebekah wiped her eyes. How could she cry when the love of her life faced untold dangers, not just from the enemy either?
Dear Heavenly Father, I don’t pretend to know your will or how it should play out in our lives. I’ll admit to not understanding why Ezekiel was drafted into a war we don’t believe in. Please help me to be strong for him. Help me to be an encouragement, someone he can look forward to hearing from. Thank you for keeping him safe in all situations. Thank you for working quickly, on his behalf, to bring him home. In the name of your son, Amen.
Rebekah prayed fervently for Ezekiel and made it her mission to pray for him, no matter what else she was doing, until he came home again. He needed her now, more than ever and she’d be there for him. Later that night, after everyone had eaten and gone to bed, Rebekah tiptoed out to the porch and sat on the porch swing, watching the light of the full moon cascade down to Earth. Comforted, she took out her pen and paper to write Ezekiel back.
February 6, 1942.
My Dearest Zeke,
I know I don’t have to say that I miss you, but I do. It’s an ache inside my heart that I will carry with me until you’re home again. I pray for you constantly. I like to think it’s for you, but sometimes I know it’s for my own comfort. My dad and your dad got everyone to pitch in and start a barn raising for us. By this time next week, we’ll have a large cattle barn on your property. My mother also said that we should keep your house up until you return. She says it’ll give me plenty of practice, so she only supervises while I’m there. I confess that I rather like caring for what’s yours. It brings you closer to me.
Are you being treated fairly? I can’t imagine what it’s like living with a bunch of English men. Are they as odd as they appear, when we ride into town? Please take care of yourself. Eat and drink properly and spend as much time with God as you can. He will sustain you through this. He will sustain all of us until you come back to me.
I love you Zeke and I’m waiting, always.
Love endures all,
Rebekah Joy
Feeling more settled in her heart than she had since Ezekiel had left their community, Rebekah tiptoed back up to bed, having slid the letter into the mail. Sleep came slowly as her mind wandered once again to Ezekiel, but eventually she fell into slumber, having cried her heart out through the day.
***
Ezekiel was four weeks into basic training and had to admit that he’d never felt physically better. Used to the early mornings, he was usually up and dressed before Staff Sergeant Dickson stepped into the doorway to call them to attention. The first time he’d been dressed, the staff sergeant had yelled in his face, but after that he seemed pleased that Ezekiel was always ready, beforehand. The other areas were a breeze for him. Well accustomed to manual labor, Zeke was physically more fit than any of the other recruits. He was always the first one done with his run, the first one done with his rifle inspection; the first one done with pretty much anything else that was asked of him.
Having received Rebekah’s first letter, he did as she asked. Burning through the calories, he plowed through his food at meal time, no matter what it was. He also felt stronger, something he noticed considerably when he tried to put on his Amish shirt. His biceps bulged in the sleeves and his broad shoulders wouldn’t let the buttons close. He chuckled at the change in his physique, even as it pricked his conscience that his physical appearance shouldn’t matter one bit.
February 21, 1942.
My Rebekah,
Only two weeks left until I find out where I’m stationed, or whether I’ll be deployed to Germany or some other country. I still don’t know much about the war, why America is fighting in it, or the people we’re at war with, but I know it must be bad by the numbers of recruits coming in. I’m not nearly as confused
by the English now as I was when I first arrived. Their slang, while usually obscene in nature, seems to fit most situations by their standards. I still get picked on for my straight-laced ways. I don’t feel as lonely now as I’ve made some friends of the men in my unit.
They are odd and under other circumstances I’m sure I wouldn’t consider engaging them in conversation, but to be honest I’m thankful they’re here with me. Please keep praying for me. It is your prayer vigil to our Heavenly Father that I’m sure has seen me through thus far. You are ever in my thoughts and prayers as well.
Love always,
your Zeke
He sealed the letter and sent it with the afternoon meal before he laced on his boots and picked up his pack. Four weeks into training and he could carry his pack on a hike, while running three miles, or even on a march. It didn’t sit well with him most of the time, but he could do it and satisfactorily. Two weeks later, however, everything would change, again.
“Miller!” Staff Sergeant Dickson called.
“Yes sir!” Ezekiel returned. Standing at attention, Ezekiel walked across the stage and accepted his credentials for having graduated from basic training. He was handed a ribbon for his uniform, along with a packet of papers. The first page of the packet gave him his MOS, or Military Occupational Specialty, and deployment information. He read it on autopilot, his stomach sinking further with each word. He was now an Army medic and in less than a week he’d deploy to the Solomon Islands. He wrote home again, only telling Rebekah that he’d write as soon as he got settled and that despite wanting to, he could not disclose where he was going. ‘Loose lips, sink ships,’ he’d included in the letter. It was something that had been drilled into them along with the thousand-yard stare.
***
Rebekah received her second letter from Ezekiel, the day he was scheduled to leave. It broke her heart to know that he wasn’t coming home, that it’d be months, if not years, before she saw him again. Upon reading that he’d be going on a deployment, Rebekah had run from her parents’ table, losing her lunch in her mother’s daisies. She also learned that along with God’s grace and mercy, tears were apparently new every morning as well for she’d cried herself dry of them for nearly a week. The next three weeks were excruciatingly painful as she waited for more news from the man she loved.
Sunlight and Shadows Page 17