The Red Badge of Courage

Henry wakes the next morning at dawn. The sound of fighting persists in the background. He likens the sleeping men all around him to corpses; only Wilson is awake before him, stirring a fire.

Soon, a rallying bugle wakes the rest of the regiment. Henry feels sore and ill, just as Simpson predicted. Wilson makes a meager breakfast, and Henry observes his friend’s new self-assurance and attributes it to an ability to see himself as a small part in a larger effort. Henry admires his friend’s newfound grace. Whereas before, the loud young man was full of bravado, now he is humble and level-headed. Henry informs Wilson of Jim Conklin’s death.

Wilson stands briefly to break up a fight happening between two men nearby, reminding them of the fight that’s to come. Returning to Henry, he says that the regiment lost about half its number in the previous day’s fighting but that many have returned.

Lining up to march, Henry remembers Wilson’s yellow envelope in his pocket. He begins to mention the small collection of mementos but thinks instead to protect Wilson’s pride by keeping it to himself. He worries that Wilson will begin asking questions about yesterday’s battle, yet he feels a certain power and pride at possessing the envelope, which he sees as a way to remind Wilson of his vulnerability and thus silence any questioning. This pride swells to pomposity as he thinks it over: “He had performed his mistakes in the dark, so he was still a man” (68), he thinks.

Nevertheless, the battle for which he is lining up is still an abstraction to him. In his swelling pride, he thinks of himself as potentially invincible. He is interrupted from his reverie by Wilson, who, with embarrassment, asks for his yellow envelope to be returned to him. Henry returns to his reverie, imaging himself returning home and regaling his friends and family with tales of war.

The men march, and the sound of battle surrounds them. They relieve an entrenched command of men dug into a trench at the edge of the woods. He peers over the trench and sees similar trenches on the enemy lines. The sound of distant gunshots makes it difficult to hear or be understood. Soon, however, the gunshots quiet, and the men begin to fruitlessly rumor about their fates.

The men are marched back the way they came and repositioned. Henry complains and finds that he is not alone in his annoyance. Repeating a phrase he hears others saying, he says, “if we fight like the devil an’ don’t ever whip, it must be the general’s fault” (72). A word of derision from a nearby soldier, however, silences Henry, who recalls his flight the previous day.

The regiment halts in a clearing as rumor and anticipation spread among the men. The sounds of fighting are closer now, and artillery from the back begins to throw shells at the opponent. Henry continues his nervous complaining about the indecisiveness of the military command, and his friend assures him it’s all for the best. The sharp lieutenant of Henry’s company commands silence from his soldiers, telling them, “You’ve been jawin’ like a lot ’a old hens” (73). The soldiers wait as the battle encroaches.

Henry resents the coming imposition of the foe, “for to-day he had felt that he had earned opportunities for contemplative repose” (74). Wilson and Henry decide that if they are to be pursued by the enemy, they’ll fight even harder, yet they continue to wait, and Henry’s battle rage expends itself as he shifts into further daydreaming.

Henry’s regiment is then swept into battle. Henry feels alternately powerful and impotent as he charges into the incoming line. He takes position behind the shelter of a tree, firing shots. Soon, the enemy seems to fall back. Henry, filled with bloodlust, continues firing long after the enemy had retreated, to the amusement of his comrades. The lieutenant commends Henry for his bravery.

Henry notes for a moment how easy it is to succumb to bloodlust in a moment of battle. He revels in the admiration of his peers as they celebrate their temporary victory in the field.

After a brief emotional atmosphere of triumph, a collective feeling of being trapped sweeps over the men, as a wounded man named Jimmie Rogers begins to cry out. As they attempt to help him, he damns them all.

Henry and Wilson take a collection of canteens and hike to the “geographical illusion” of a stream Wilson seems to remember. Lost, and attempting to retrace their steps, they scale a vantage point and see a larger swath of the battlefield. From a hidden position, the two friends see and hear a mounted general, the commander of their division, conferring with other officers and his staff. The general is concerned about the enemy regrouping against the flank and asks what men the officer can spare. In answer, the regimental officer says he can spare Henry’s company, the 304th, since they fight not like soldiers but “like a bunch of mule drivers” (79). The two highly ranked men agree that it will mean doom for the company. Henry and Wilson are astonished by what they’ve heard.

Approaching the line, Henry and Wilson are berated by the lieutenant for taking so long, but once they relay the story, excitement and fear travels up and down the line. Soon after, the officer in question appears and seems to relay the order. Henry and Wilson share a common knowledge of their chances in the coming battle but steel themselves for the coming trial.

Henry watches the preparations for the coming charge, and then the men run forward in a mass. Their objective is a clump of trees, which suddenly bursts with gunfire at Henry’s charging company. Henry’s senses work acutely as he notices every clump of grass and change in formation within the friendly line.

The men move forward in a frenzied rush, but upon entering the wood, in spite of their coming under fire, Henry’s company slackens its pace and stops. The enemy fire redoubles, and the lieutenant screams for them to move forward. Henry, too, screams at the men to redouble their efforts, and soon the men uneasily break from their inertia and charge forward, guns firing, with Henry and Wilson at the lead.

They meet heavy resistance but continue their advance. They stop before a clearing and reluctantly press on through it at the cost of many casualties. Henry keeps a color guard’s flag within his sight, taking courage from it. When the color guard is shot, Henry and Wilson grab the flag and keep it aloft. The dead man’s hand is clenched to the pole and must be removed by force.

Behind them, the friendly regiment retreats. Henry and Wilson briefly scuffle over possession of the flag before Henry wins it for himself. Henry’s mind is full of hate, both for the enemy in front of him and for the officer who called them all “mule drivers.” He feels ashamed to see the men of his regiment pulling back into the woods in retreat.

As a general sense of doom and disorientation settles among the men, a mass of enemy soldiers charges from an unexpected direction, causing more fear and retreat. Even as Wilson expresses dismay, Henry holds his ground among the mob, holding aloft the flag. The enemy suddenly appears, “so near that he could see their features” (88). The fighting that ensues is desperate and furious. When the smoke clears, Henry’s side is amazed to find themselves the victors of the skirmish. Their attitude goes from doom to celebration.

The nearby firing ends, but the battle continues in the distance. The remaining men gather to strategically reconnect in their own lines, displaying grim and frantic signs of triumph. However, they meet friendly catcalling from the veterans who have been laying low a distance away. The men of Henry’s regiment are the sole possessors of the knowledge of what they went through in the battle. The lieutenant in direct charge is berated by his commanding officer for not charging further and more aggressively. In the end, their victory in battle was a small piece of the larger war, yet Henry takes some sense of pride in his role.

As news of the reproach reaches the men, they complain bitterly. Soon, a man named Thompson approaches Henry and Wilson and tells them he overheard the lieutenant and the colonel discussing the two young men, praising their bravery in handling the flag. The two youths swell with pride.

Henry feels an inner calm as he sees the line of the enemy return for a new charge further down the battlefield and several smaller skirmishes nearby. With his new self-pride, Henry sees these scenes in a heroic light. The battle subsides and then returns with redoubled force, with the victor always uncertain.

Henry’s reduced regiment soon rejoins this tumult, with Henry still in possession of the flag. He feels removed from his body as the battle rages closer. The closest enemy digs in behind a fence, under a hail of gunfire. Henry imagines that it would be a fitting revenge to die in this battle and show the officer who doubted his regiment the level of his sacrifice. The two regiments are violently entrenched. All around Henry, friendly soldiers fall to bullet fire.

A command from the rear urges the men to charge forward. The men obey despite their fear and weariness, with Henry in the front waving the flag. In the tumult of the battle, Henry fixes his mind on the obstacles, among the enemy and the landscape, standing before him: “He had a gigantic hatred for those who made difficulties and complications” (99). He looks with disdain at a group of cowardly friendly soldiers digging in behind shelter.

He fixes his eyes on a faltering enemy flag and makes his way toward it. The man in possession of the flag has been shot several times and enters his death throes. Wilson rushes forward and grabs the flag from the enemy soldier. This action bolsters the friendly combatants behind them. They cheer wildly, taking the straggling enemy soldiers dug in behind the fence.

They take four prisoners. Each prisoner displays a different attitude to his capture; one curses his captors, one is good natured, one is morose, and one is silent. Henry’s men congratulate one another on their victory.

Across the battlefield, the sound of fighting wanes. The men are told to march, wearily retracing their steps. Eventually, the brigade reforms along a stretch of road, marching parallel to the reduced enemy line. Henry realizes that the larger battle is over.

In reflection, Henry sees that his triumphs weigh more heavily than his losses, and that his good behavior in the battle outweighs his retreat, which he looks at with a philosophical sense of remorse. Increasingly, he gets the impression that he’s gained a better apprehension of the truth of his former attitude about war and has come from the battle wiser and more mature. As the rain falls, the marching youth’s thoughts turn toward tranquility and peace.