The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

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The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 62trimmed to the exact width of his mouth. It was the same exact mustache worn by every sergeant thatJose had ever seen in the American army, and not at all like the fine mustache worn by the Mexicanfederalista captain in Agua Prieta. The captain's mustache had flowed and looped and twirled in grandacrobatic maneuvers; this American mustache clung angrily and stubbornly, and was in fact small andmean-spirited in its nature. Jose was about to ask if there was a regulation that mandated all sergeantsto have such a mustache, but then stopped when he realized that the sergeant was in fact asking himwhy cripples with bad legs were allowed to enlist in the Army. Jose didn't know the answer to thatquestion, but he agreed with the sergeant that cripples should not be allowed to enlist, and probably noteven drafted.The tone of the conversation changed radically, however, when Jose managed to convey to thesergeant that his own limp was not congenital, but was in fact the result of a combat wound from theMexican Campaign. The sergeant, who frequently dreamed of being shot for his county, softened whenhe heard this and started to ask many of the same questions that Jose's family had. Did it hurt? Whatwas it like? How many Villistas had he shot? Jose was patient in answering each question as best hecould, until at last the sergeant noticed that his formation had marched itself so far up the road that itwas now not only out of range of the sound of his voice, but was even becoming harder and harder tosee. With some final instructions to Jose on how to find the camp, and congratulations on his injury,the sergeant sprinted off up the road to catch his formation before it missed its turn and marched itselfthe fifty or so extra miles to Columbus.Still wondering if he would be forced to grow a tiny mustache if he was promoted to sergeant,Jose started to swim his way through the humidity and on to Camp Sherman.Camp Sherman as Jose found it in July of 1917 was still very much unfinished. Completedbuildings stood among the frames of structures still in progress. Roads patterned a landscape scraped

The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 63flat, crisscrossing and going nowhere, the veins and arteries of a giant being brought to life. Telephonepoles and electrical wires running down the sides of the roads formed a nervous system branching outto cover the whole camp, so that sensations could be delivered and movements ordered. Very soon thisgiant would come to life, swallowing hordes of young men in order to disgorge them back out assoldiers.Jose was delighted with the scope and sophistication of the whole operation, particularly whenhe realized that the camp would have its very own miniature railroad to move men and supplies aroundrapidly and efficiently. Ned Skelly also proved to be quite fond of the miniature railroad and Josewould frequently see him riding along, perched on top of a pile of ammunition crates destined forJose's rifle range.Jose was also very pleased with the quarters he was assigned. It was a small room in a smallbarracks, but as a corporal and a member of the training cadre with responsibilities he would not haveto share it with anyone. This privacy left him free to write letters to his family without distraction,which he did without fail on a weekly basis. He told them of the heat and of the humidity so dense hewas almost swimming; when winter came he told them about the cold and the snow, and then insubsequent letters devoted time to answering all of the questions about snow that came back from hiscurious family. He told them about the eternal stream of soldiers that flowed through his rifle range,every two days a whole new group of trainees that first learned to balance dimes and then to put theirnew talents into practice on the range. He told them about the library at the Camp, brand new but stillsmelling of must from all of the donated books. He told them about the miniature railroad and itsnarrowly-gauged tracks that carried men and supplies all over the camp. He did not tell them aboutNed Skelly's ghost, whose love for riding the train would remain incessant throughout the time thatJose was stationed at Camp Sherman.Jose also never told his family about the ghosts of the Indians that began to turn up more and

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