Chapter 2 - Fort Training
It was long and arduous. Every day, the men practiced loading and firing guns, then hefting from left to right shoulder. Darwin caught on quick, and could soon fire three shots a minute, which many said was what the best-trained soldiers could do. Gumball never managed more than two. “The food is disgusting, ain’t it?” Gumball said to Tobias, another soldier in the army. “The beef’s so tough a dog wouldn’t touch it!”
“Tell me about it,” Tobias replied. “Can’t believe Ol’ Abe’s makin’ us eat this and he expects us to fight those damn Confederates.”
“Won’t the war be over by the time we’re done with training?”
“Yeah, probably.”
Every single day, every week, for what seemed like months, they practiced shooting. Gumball and Darwin both grew annoyed. “We should leave,” Gumball said to Darwin one day. “There’s nothing for us here.”
Darwin was reluctant to leave. “I’m staying, Gumball. The rebs won’t fight themselves, and I’m gonna fight until I die.”
“Suit yourself,” Gumball replied. “When you’re dying on the battlefield, remember what I said.”
But before Gumball got his chance to leave, on June 22, the troop was called into formation. By the night, they were already on a train headed to the South. Gumball sat in his seat, squirming, watching the hills and grass roll by the window. He remembered the parade through his city, with pretty girls handing his troop sweets, including them good caramels. He sat now, chewing on a piece of chocolate, watching the scenery.
It was a grand way to go off to war.
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