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The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Long</strong> <strong>and</strong> <strong>Storied</strong> <strong>Life</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Jose</strong> <strong>Montoya</strong> 106It took the Army only a matter <strong>of</strong> days to realize that with no one left to fight they needn’t betraining <strong>and</strong> paying so many men to march, shoot <strong>and</strong> die <strong>of</strong> Spanish Flu, which after all couldn’t beshot. Camp Sherman, which had engorged itself with a constant stream <strong>of</strong> recruits <strong>and</strong> which nowcomprised thous<strong>and</strong>s <strong>of</strong> buildings spread across its many square miles, would make as fine a place todismantle soldiers back into civilians as it had a place to assemble soldiers from civilians, a symmetrythat somehow pleased <strong>Jose</strong> even though it meant that as 1918 ground into 1919 he spent many <strong>of</strong> hisdays helping the Discharge Detachment process paperwork.But while the symmetry <strong>of</strong> process pleased <strong>Jose</strong>, the symmetry <strong>of</strong> cause <strong>and</strong> effect betweenteaching people to fight <strong>and</strong> the devastation that could be wrought on a human body did not. <strong>Jose</strong>, whowas used to passing the time with the spirits <strong>of</strong> men who had holes in their middle <strong>and</strong> in their head,was saddened at the constant procession <strong>of</strong> the maimed that wound its way from the large stage <strong>of</strong> adevastated France to the small stage <strong>of</strong> a town in Ohio. <strong>The</strong>se were men who suffered in ways in whichNed Skelly <strong>and</strong> Grayley hadn’t, <strong>and</strong> the pain that <strong>Jose</strong> carried in his own leg could only let him imaginethat much more clearly what it must be like for these men blinded by poison gas <strong>and</strong> hobbled bymissing limbs, many <strong>of</strong> whom now lived permanently in a muddy <strong>and</strong> freezing trench dug for them bytheir own minds with a cunning far more powerful at digging than any entrenching tool would ever be.<strong>The</strong> Discharge Detachment was a model <strong>of</strong> gray efficiency capable <strong>of</strong> sending thous<strong>and</strong>s uponthous<strong>and</strong>s <strong>of</strong> soldiers a month out the door <strong>and</strong> back to whatever remained <strong>of</strong> their former civilian lives.Instead <strong>of</strong> nickels balanced on rifle barrels it was now fingers balanced precariously on his typewriteras soldier after soldier came <strong>and</strong> sat next to him, h<strong>and</strong>ed him papers they had filled out, watched moreor less silently as he typed, said everything looked good, <strong>and</strong> then variously walked or limped or rolledto the next station, making way for the next soldier in line in an endless, tedious stream.

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