A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School

54After they had gone we laborers looked rather emptily across the newly cleared rails at eachother, at ourselves, and not even Brinker thought of the timely remark. We turned away. Theold man told us to go back to other parts of the yard, but there was no more real work done thatafternoon. Stranded in this mill town railroad yard while the whole world was convergingelsewhere, we seemed to be nothing but children playing among heroic men.The day ended at last. Gray from the beginning, its end was announced by a deepening gray,of sky, snow, faces, spirits. We piled back into the old, dispiritedly lit coaches waiting for us,slumped into the uncomfortable green seats, and no one said much until we were miles away.When we did speak it was about aviation training programs and brothers in the service andrequirements for enlistment and the futility of Devon and how we would never have war storiesto tell our grandchildren and how long the war might last and who ever heard of studying deadlanguages at a time like this.Quackenbush took advantage of a break in this line of conversation to announce that hewould certainly stay at Devon through the year, however half-cocked others might rush off. Heelaborated without encouragement, citing the advantages of Devon's physical hardeningprogram and of a high school diploma when he did in good time reach basic training. He forone would advance into the army step by step."You for one," echoed someone contemptuously."You are one," someone else said."Which army, Quackenbush? Mussolini's?""Naw, he's a Kraut.""He's a Kraut spy.""How many rails did you sabotage today, Quackenbush?""I thought they interned all Quackenbushes the day after Pearl Harbor."To which Brinker added: "They didn't find him. He hid his light under a Quackenbush."We were all tired at the end of that day.Walking back to the school grounds from the railroad station in the descending darkness weovertook a lone figure sliding along the snow-covered edge of the street"Will you look at Lepellier," began Brinker irritably. "Who does he think he is, theAbominable Snowman?""He's just been out skiing around," I said quickly. I didn't want to see today's strainedtempers exploding on Leper. Then as we came up beside him, "Did you find the dam, Leper?"He turned his head slowly, without breaking his forward movement of alternately planted