The Wounded Veteran

"The Wounded Veteran" is a poignant short story by O. Henry that explores themes of sacrifice, love, and the complexity of human relationships. Set against the backdrop of a war-torn society, the narrative follows a veteran who, despite his physical and emotional scars, battles through the challenges of reintegration into civilian life. The story highlights the profound impact of war on both the individual and their loved ones, showcasing O. Henry's signature style of unexpected twists and deep emotional resonance. Through vivid characters and a compelling plot, the tale underscores the enduring strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

• Short story

								
A party of Northern tourists passed through Houston the other day, and
while their train was waiting at the depot an old colored man, with
one arm bandaged and hung in an old red handkerchief for a sling,
walked along the platform.

"What's the matter with your arm, uncle?" called out one of the
tourists.

"It was hurt in de wah, sah. Hab you any 'bacco you could gib a po'
ole niggah, sah?"

Several of the tourists poked their heads out of the car windows to
listen, and in a few moments the old darky had taken up a collection
in his hat, consisting of a plug of tobacco, three or four cigars, and
sundry nickels, dimes, and quarters.

"How were you wounded?" asked a tourist. "Were you shot in the arm?"

"No, sah; hit wusn't exac' by a shot."

"Piece of shell strike you?"

"No, sah; wusn't a shell."

"Bayonet wound, maybe?"

"No, boss, hit wusn't a bayonet."

"What battle were you in?"

"Do' know ef it had a name, but hit was a mighty hot fight while it
lasted."

"Do you draw a pension?"

"No, boss."

"It seems it would be a charitable act," said a tourist to the others,
"to take this old darky's name and see that he gets the pension he is
certainly entitled to. What is your name, uncle?"

"Mose Atkisson, sah."

"Now, Mose," said the tourist, "give me the particulars of the
engagement you were in, and the date, and all the information you
possess about the manner in which you were wounded, and the government
will pay you a nice little sum every three months to help you along."

"Am dat so, boss?" asked the old darky, his eyes growing big with
wonder. "Den I'll sho tell you about hit. Hit wus jes' befor' supper
en I was totin' a big chance ob wood in to make a fiah, when--"

"Never mind about what you did in camp," said the tourist. "Tell us in
which battle of the War of the Rebellion were you engaged."

"It wusn't dat wah, boss; it wus de wah wid Spain."

"What do you mean?"

"Lemme tell you how it wus. I cuts wood and does odd jobs up to Cunnel
Wadkinses. Cunnel Wadkins am de bigges' fighter in de Souf. W'en dis
here wah wid Spain cum up in de papers Cunnel Wadkins 'low he gwine
ter pulverize de whole Spanish nation. He set all day in de saloon an'
he talk about it, an' he cum home at meal time an' he git out his ole'
s'ord, an' he don' talk about nuthin' else.

"Mis' Susie, de Cunnel's wife, she suppote de family, an' she do de
cookin'. Las' Sadday night de Cunnel cum home, an' he been drinkin'
plenty. Mis' Susie she look at him an' shet her mouf tight, an' say
nothin'.

"De Cunnel git out de s'ord an' 'low dat de day ob recknin' am cum wid
de cruel an' bloodthusty Spaniards. Mis' Susie went on fryin' batter
cakes, but Land! don't I know dat woman gwine ter bus' things wide
open putty soon!

"I fetch in a turn ob wood; de Cunnel he settin' by de kitchen stobe,
kinder rockin' roun' in de chur. Es I cum in de do' Cunnel say: 'You
is treat me col', Madam, kase I uphol' de dignity ob de Wadkins
fambly. De Wadkinses nebber wuk; dey am solgers an' am got ter keep
ready fur der country's call.'

"'Treats you col', does I?' says Mis' Susie. 'Well, den, lemme treat
you warm some,' says she.

"She po' out of de bilin' tea-kittle a big pan full ob hot water an'
she fling it all ober de Cunnel. I gits a big lot ob it on dis arm as
I was pilin' de wood in de box, an' it tuk de skin off, an' I dun had
it wrapped up fo' days. De Cunnel am in bed yit, but he sw'ar w'en he
git up he gwine ter wuk.

"Dat's how dis here wah wid Spain done up dis ole niggah. 'Bout w'en,
boss, will de fus' payment ob dat penshun git here, do you recum?"

"The ignorance and stupidity," said the tourist, as he shut down his
window, "of the colored man in the South are appalling."
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