everyone loves a parade :D
Nov. 14th, 2011 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smackenzieThere is a parade for Memorial Day this year – as James supposes there was one last year, although he does not remember – and his school lets out two hours early so the students can watch it if they wish. Nathaniel has come down from his recuperative spa, ostensibly to march in the parade but also so that Mrs Godwin can fuss over him in person. She has organized a luncheon for her friends which also serves as a fundraiser for an organization that helps care for veterans of the Great War who may not have the means or the families to care for them, and even though she genuinely loves Nathaniel and does not wish to cause him stress, she has also asked him to be the guest of honor to show her wealthy society friends what kind of care his fellow soldiers might need.
Luisa is evidently under orders to bring James and William and Con home from school, rather than walk them to the parade route, and when they all arrive at the house, Mrs Godwin's luncheon is in full swing, including Mrs Albrecht, the lady with the Pekingese dog, and another lady who has brought a little French bulldog. But Nathaniel, in whose honor the luncheon is being given, is hiding in the nursery upstairs. Mrs Malcolm has brought him lunch without complaint, and when James and William and Luisa go up to say hello to him, he is sitting on the floor reading a novel.
"What are you doing up here?" William demands.
"Hiding from the dogs," Nathaniel answers. His voice and his face are calm. James doesn't mind Mrs Albrecht's hairy squashed-face lapdog, but he can understand why Nathaniel might want to escape all the society ladies.
"Con is probably teasing it mercilessly," Luisa comments. "The poor thing."
"Do not feel too badly for it. All the ladies were petting it and spoiling it rotten when I made my escape."
"Do you want to come watch the parade with us?" James asks. "Con said he would take us."
"You should wait for your sisters," Luisa says, and as if that has conjured them, Aimee and Julia come bounding into the nursery.
"One of Momma's friends has a little bulldog," Aimee says excitedly, at the same time Julia announces that she is ready to watch the parade and who will go with her?
"Where is Con?"
"Eating," Aimee says. "I want a little bulldog. It is French."
"Those are not real dogs," William tells her scornfully.
"They are so."
"Children," Luisa interrupts. "Be quiet. Who is going to watch the parade?"
James raises his hand. William shrugs. Aimee says she is going to stay home and play with the dogs.
"Nathaniel?" Luisa asks. He shakes his head. "You should be marching in it." But he shakes his head again.
"I have done nothing worthy of a parade," he says, "save return home."
"But you fought," William and Julia say at the same time. "You served with honor," Julia continues.
But Nathaniel will not be moved, and eventually Luisa says "It is just as well – Decoration Day is to honor the dead. We should honor the living every day." And she shoos the rest of them out of the nursery, leaving Nathaniel to his lunch and his book.
They run into Con on the stairs – he is holding an apple and whistling – and he turns and follows them down without a word. Aimee sneaks off to join Mrs Godwin's ladies lunch, but the rest of them go out into the bright sunshine to find the parade.
Luisa is not quite sure where the route is supposed to be, but Julia knows and directs them towards the big hotel at the bottom of Central Park, where she says the parade is going to end with a reception in the hotel for the veterans. There are veterans of the Great War marching this year as well as the old veterans of the Civil War, some of whom lost limbs to bullets and gangrene, and whose jacket sleeves or pants legs are pinned up in place of their missing arms and legs. These limbless men fascinate James. Lucas and Nathaniel are the only two men he knows who fought in the Great War, and neither of them came home with a missing body part.
"Why is Lucas not marching?" he asks Julia, as they head towards the end of the route. He hopes the parade is still going. He does not want to miss all the soldiers in their uniforms, with their medals and their flags and no doubt a stirring drum and bugle corps to fill their hearts with patriotism. "He was in the war too."
"He only volunteered to look out for Nathaniel," Con says. "He would not have gone otherwise."
"Does he not think he served with honor?" James has never given much thought to the men who served during the Great War, although he cannot imagine a childhood in which it never existed, but it seems as if everyone has turned out to honor their dead and give thanks for the men who died so that democratic good could prevail against the Kaiser's evil, and all this patriotic feeling is contagious. And James is proud of his brothers for volunteering to do something that could have gotten them killed. War is far enough from his personal experience that he thinks of it as a grand adventure and something for heroic men.
"Perhaps he should," Luisa muses. "There is honor in putting yourself in danger to protect your brother."
"Two million Germans might disagree," Con mutters.
"The Germans deserved it," William says.
"William," Luisa chides. "Today is a solemn day. German mothers lost their sons too." William snorts, unimpressed.
As they get closer to the parade route they can hear the murmuring of the crowd already lined up along the sidewalk and waiting for the procession to pass. Soon they can see all the people talking and waiting. There are a great many people, more than James was expecting.
"What were you expecting?" Julia asks, grinning, when he mentions what to him seems like a vast number of people.
"I will not be able to see," he whines.
"That will not do," Con says, picking him up and with some difficulty settling him on his shoulders.
"What about me?" William demands.
"You waited too long to say something." Con grins at him. James tries not to gloat, From up here he can just about see over everyone's heads, which means he will have a better view of the parade than anyone who is not standing right at the front of the crowd. He feels very tall. "Besides, James is smaller and lighter."
"Come," Luisa says to William, holding out her hand. "We will try to get you closer." They push their way into the crush of people.
"What about you?" Con asks Julia.
"I cannot leave you alone with James," she says. "You will take him and run off to Mexico, and I cannot lose my favorite little brother." But she is grinning. She points to something behind Con, and James twists around as far as he can in order to see. Con turns slowly, mindful of James sitting on his shoulders, and now they can both see that Julia is pointing to a bench, on which several little boys are already standing. "There," she says. "I will stand on that."
The little boys do not look pleased at having to move to make room for a girl, much less an older girl, but Julia tells them they found the best spot from which to watch the procession, and they are generous little gentlemen for sharing it with her. They are wearing school uniforms that James does not recognize, and he wonders what school they attend and how early did they get out, and did they spend their morning lessons learning about the Great War and why today is also called Decoration Day?
He has heard both – he calls it Memorial Day because Mr Van der Waal calls it Memorial Day, but Luisa and both of James' parents refer to it as Decoration Day. But they are more used to it being a day for laying flowers and decorating the graves of the Civil War dead, rather than remembering the American boys who died in France, so perhaps it makes sense.
But some of the old veterans are already decorated, he thinks, with medals and ribbons pinned to their uniforms, so why can it not be called both?
Now he can hear the drums playing a cadence down the street, and if he sits up straight on Con's shoulders he can just see the lines of soldiers marching down the street.
"Look, look," he says, trying to turn Con's head in the right direction. He points for Julia's benefit, but she has already heard the drums as well. "There they are."
"Stop pulling my hair," Con tells him. "I can hear them. What do you see?"
"A whole troop of soldiers." James is not exactly sure how many men make up a troop, but it is the easiest way he can think of to number the neat rows of marching soldiers. Four men in the front are carrying a long pole from which hangs a banner, a huge piece of red cloth, perhaps velveteen, embroidered with gold letters and decorated with gold tassels. "What does the banner mean?" he asks Julia, because she can see it and Con most likely cannot.
"That is either their regiment or their division," she says. "I wonder where they fought."
"France, I would guess," Con says, overhearing her. "Perhaps Belgium."
There is another regiment after them, then a group of men on horses (they are the cavalry, James knows) and a group of sailors, then some men who Julia says are airmen, and then the ranks of old Civil War veterans. James likes how different their uniforms are, even between the soldiers and sailors of the Great War, although from here it seems as if their ribbons and medals are the same. But the hats are different, and the jackets, and even the flags.
"That is the flag of the Union," Julia tells him, pointing to the one being carried at the head of group of Civil War veterans. "You can tell because there are fewer stars. They carry the flag they fought under, even if it is an old flag."
"What are the other flags?" James asks.
"Those are state flags. Not all of them are from New York." A flag with two ladies and a horse's head on it passes by them. "That one I believe is for New Jersey."
"Do they not march in New Jersey?"
"Of course they do. But some of the men from there must have moved here since the war, but they wish to march with other New Jerseyans."
"As long as they have the flag of New York," Con says.
They stand in silence for the rest of the parade, not so much out of respect – although James has what he would consider a great deal of respect for these old soldiers – but because there is not much else to say. It is exciting and a bit awe-inspiring to see all these men marching in formation in their uniforms, with their flags and banners, in tribute to their fallen comrades. They are supposed to be honoring the dead, James knows, but it seems to him as if this whole parade is just a long exercise in honoring the living.
He wishes Lucas and Nathaniel felt the same way, so that they could be marching as well. He does not see any black faces among the marching veterans, but all the same, he knows his brothers should be out there as well. He wonders how he can explain this to Nathaniel without offending him or upsetting him, and if Lucas would listen as well.
"Nathaniel should have been there," Con says, after the last row of soldiers and drummers has marched past and the crowd starts to disperse. He sounds bitter and almost angry.
"It was his choice," Julia says gently, even though James is sure she agrees. "You know he does not like these kinds of crowds."
"All the same. He fought and sacrificed the same as any of them. He deserves the same accolades." Con gestures towards the hotel, where Julia said there would be a reception for all of the veterans.
"Bring it up with him."
"I think I am going to have to put you down," Con says to James, abruptly changing the subject. "You are getting heavy."
"Thank you for letting me sit on you," James says. He grabs at Con's head as Con very slowly bends down so James can climb off his shoulders. Julia has stepped down from her bench and holds out her arms to help him. "I got to see everything."
"That was the whole idea. Better you than William." Con winks. "I suppose we should wait for him and Luisa. Pity she is not quite small enough to sit on my shoulders too."
Julia laughs. James is just grateful that Con likes him better than William.
words: 2218
total words: 23,487
quickie research: memorial day, new york regiments, state flags
note: there was in fact an african-american regiment in ww1 - the 369th, aka the harlem hellfighters, but i don't know if they would have marched with all the white boys in a memorial day parade in 1919. i think this is the regiment that lucas and nathaniel served with.
Luisa is evidently under orders to bring James and William and Con home from school, rather than walk them to the parade route, and when they all arrive at the house, Mrs Godwin's luncheon is in full swing, including Mrs Albrecht, the lady with the Pekingese dog, and another lady who has brought a little French bulldog. But Nathaniel, in whose honor the luncheon is being given, is hiding in the nursery upstairs. Mrs Malcolm has brought him lunch without complaint, and when James and William and Luisa go up to say hello to him, he is sitting on the floor reading a novel.
"What are you doing up here?" William demands.
"Hiding from the dogs," Nathaniel answers. His voice and his face are calm. James doesn't mind Mrs Albrecht's hairy squashed-face lapdog, but he can understand why Nathaniel might want to escape all the society ladies.
"Con is probably teasing it mercilessly," Luisa comments. "The poor thing."
"Do not feel too badly for it. All the ladies were petting it and spoiling it rotten when I made my escape."
"Do you want to come watch the parade with us?" James asks. "Con said he would take us."
"You should wait for your sisters," Luisa says, and as if that has conjured them, Aimee and Julia come bounding into the nursery.
"One of Momma's friends has a little bulldog," Aimee says excitedly, at the same time Julia announces that she is ready to watch the parade and who will go with her?
"Where is Con?"
"Eating," Aimee says. "I want a little bulldog. It is French."
"Those are not real dogs," William tells her scornfully.
"They are so."
"Children," Luisa interrupts. "Be quiet. Who is going to watch the parade?"
James raises his hand. William shrugs. Aimee says she is going to stay home and play with the dogs.
"Nathaniel?" Luisa asks. He shakes his head. "You should be marching in it." But he shakes his head again.
"I have done nothing worthy of a parade," he says, "save return home."
"But you fought," William and Julia say at the same time. "You served with honor," Julia continues.
But Nathaniel will not be moved, and eventually Luisa says "It is just as well – Decoration Day is to honor the dead. We should honor the living every day." And she shoos the rest of them out of the nursery, leaving Nathaniel to his lunch and his book.
They run into Con on the stairs – he is holding an apple and whistling – and he turns and follows them down without a word. Aimee sneaks off to join Mrs Godwin's ladies lunch, but the rest of them go out into the bright sunshine to find the parade.
Luisa is not quite sure where the route is supposed to be, but Julia knows and directs them towards the big hotel at the bottom of Central Park, where she says the parade is going to end with a reception in the hotel for the veterans. There are veterans of the Great War marching this year as well as the old veterans of the Civil War, some of whom lost limbs to bullets and gangrene, and whose jacket sleeves or pants legs are pinned up in place of their missing arms and legs. These limbless men fascinate James. Lucas and Nathaniel are the only two men he knows who fought in the Great War, and neither of them came home with a missing body part.
"Why is Lucas not marching?" he asks Julia, as they head towards the end of the route. He hopes the parade is still going. He does not want to miss all the soldiers in their uniforms, with their medals and their flags and no doubt a stirring drum and bugle corps to fill their hearts with patriotism. "He was in the war too."
"He only volunteered to look out for Nathaniel," Con says. "He would not have gone otherwise."
"Does he not think he served with honor?" James has never given much thought to the men who served during the Great War, although he cannot imagine a childhood in which it never existed, but it seems as if everyone has turned out to honor their dead and give thanks for the men who died so that democratic good could prevail against the Kaiser's evil, and all this patriotic feeling is contagious. And James is proud of his brothers for volunteering to do something that could have gotten them killed. War is far enough from his personal experience that he thinks of it as a grand adventure and something for heroic men.
"Perhaps he should," Luisa muses. "There is honor in putting yourself in danger to protect your brother."
"Two million Germans might disagree," Con mutters.
"The Germans deserved it," William says.
"William," Luisa chides. "Today is a solemn day. German mothers lost their sons too." William snorts, unimpressed.
As they get closer to the parade route they can hear the murmuring of the crowd already lined up along the sidewalk and waiting for the procession to pass. Soon they can see all the people talking and waiting. There are a great many people, more than James was expecting.
"What were you expecting?" Julia asks, grinning, when he mentions what to him seems like a vast number of people.
"I will not be able to see," he whines.
"That will not do," Con says, picking him up and with some difficulty settling him on his shoulders.
"What about me?" William demands.
"You waited too long to say something." Con grins at him. James tries not to gloat, From up here he can just about see over everyone's heads, which means he will have a better view of the parade than anyone who is not standing right at the front of the crowd. He feels very tall. "Besides, James is smaller and lighter."
"Come," Luisa says to William, holding out her hand. "We will try to get you closer." They push their way into the crush of people.
"What about you?" Con asks Julia.
"I cannot leave you alone with James," she says. "You will take him and run off to Mexico, and I cannot lose my favorite little brother." But she is grinning. She points to something behind Con, and James twists around as far as he can in order to see. Con turns slowly, mindful of James sitting on his shoulders, and now they can both see that Julia is pointing to a bench, on which several little boys are already standing. "There," she says. "I will stand on that."
The little boys do not look pleased at having to move to make room for a girl, much less an older girl, but Julia tells them they found the best spot from which to watch the procession, and they are generous little gentlemen for sharing it with her. They are wearing school uniforms that James does not recognize, and he wonders what school they attend and how early did they get out, and did they spend their morning lessons learning about the Great War and why today is also called Decoration Day?
He has heard both – he calls it Memorial Day because Mr Van der Waal calls it Memorial Day, but Luisa and both of James' parents refer to it as Decoration Day. But they are more used to it being a day for laying flowers and decorating the graves of the Civil War dead, rather than remembering the American boys who died in France, so perhaps it makes sense.
But some of the old veterans are already decorated, he thinks, with medals and ribbons pinned to their uniforms, so why can it not be called both?
Now he can hear the drums playing a cadence down the street, and if he sits up straight on Con's shoulders he can just see the lines of soldiers marching down the street.
"Look, look," he says, trying to turn Con's head in the right direction. He points for Julia's benefit, but she has already heard the drums as well. "There they are."
"Stop pulling my hair," Con tells him. "I can hear them. What do you see?"
"A whole troop of soldiers." James is not exactly sure how many men make up a troop, but it is the easiest way he can think of to number the neat rows of marching soldiers. Four men in the front are carrying a long pole from which hangs a banner, a huge piece of red cloth, perhaps velveteen, embroidered with gold letters and decorated with gold tassels. "What does the banner mean?" he asks Julia, because she can see it and Con most likely cannot.
"That is either their regiment or their division," she says. "I wonder where they fought."
"France, I would guess," Con says, overhearing her. "Perhaps Belgium."
There is another regiment after them, then a group of men on horses (they are the cavalry, James knows) and a group of sailors, then some men who Julia says are airmen, and then the ranks of old Civil War veterans. James likes how different their uniforms are, even between the soldiers and sailors of the Great War, although from here it seems as if their ribbons and medals are the same. But the hats are different, and the jackets, and even the flags.
"That is the flag of the Union," Julia tells him, pointing to the one being carried at the head of group of Civil War veterans. "You can tell because there are fewer stars. They carry the flag they fought under, even if it is an old flag."
"What are the other flags?" James asks.
"Those are state flags. Not all of them are from New York." A flag with two ladies and a horse's head on it passes by them. "That one I believe is for New Jersey."
"Do they not march in New Jersey?"
"Of course they do. But some of the men from there must have moved here since the war, but they wish to march with other New Jerseyans."
"As long as they have the flag of New York," Con says.
They stand in silence for the rest of the parade, not so much out of respect – although James has what he would consider a great deal of respect for these old soldiers – but because there is not much else to say. It is exciting and a bit awe-inspiring to see all these men marching in formation in their uniforms, with their flags and banners, in tribute to their fallen comrades. They are supposed to be honoring the dead, James knows, but it seems to him as if this whole parade is just a long exercise in honoring the living.
He wishes Lucas and Nathaniel felt the same way, so that they could be marching as well. He does not see any black faces among the marching veterans, but all the same, he knows his brothers should be out there as well. He wonders how he can explain this to Nathaniel without offending him or upsetting him, and if Lucas would listen as well.
"Nathaniel should have been there," Con says, after the last row of soldiers and drummers has marched past and the crowd starts to disperse. He sounds bitter and almost angry.
"It was his choice," Julia says gently, even though James is sure she agrees. "You know he does not like these kinds of crowds."
"All the same. He fought and sacrificed the same as any of them. He deserves the same accolades." Con gestures towards the hotel, where Julia said there would be a reception for all of the veterans.
"Bring it up with him."
"I think I am going to have to put you down," Con says to James, abruptly changing the subject. "You are getting heavy."
"Thank you for letting me sit on you," James says. He grabs at Con's head as Con very slowly bends down so James can climb off his shoulders. Julia has stepped down from her bench and holds out her arms to help him. "I got to see everything."
"That was the whole idea. Better you than William." Con winks. "I suppose we should wait for him and Luisa. Pity she is not quite small enough to sit on my shoulders too."
Julia laughs. James is just grateful that Con likes him better than William.
words: 2218
total words: 23,487
quickie research: memorial day, new york regiments, state flags
note: there was in fact an african-american regiment in ww1 - the 369th, aka the harlem hellfighters, but i don't know if they would have marched with all the white boys in a memorial day parade in 1919. i think this is the regiment that lucas and nathaniel served with.
