Recently, I sold the home I inherited from the old man I used to live with and moved in with my dad.  One could also call it the place where I have kept most of my stuff since I graduated from Loyola University Chicago. This includes the majority of my books.  In getting settled into these familiar environs, I unpacked several of these tomes that have not seen the light of day in over a decade.  Doing so reminded me that I own three copies of Stephen Crane’s Civil War novel The Red Badge of Courage (1895).  None of them were purchased by me.  The first is a beautiful volume I got as a child, the result of my family recognizing early on my affinity for history.  I took it to show-and-tell one day at school, and unfortunately somebody decided to stick a wad of gum on the cover.  I kept it, despite its marred visage.  Another is part of an anthology of stories about the War between the States, another gift designed to speak to my interests.  I am not sure where the last one came from, but it is in my collection.  The funny thing about this is that I have never read any of them.  I attempted, but found that I could not get through Crane’s prose.  Then, today, I found a film version from 1951 and thought, why not?

The Red Badge of Courage was directed by award winning director John Huston.  I point this out because I am not sure why we had to be told at the beginning how the proceedings were going to be narrated (James Whitmore), reading passages from the book on which it is based.  Anyway, after having explained to us that this is a “classic war story,” we meet Henry Fleming (Audie Murphy), also known as “The Youth,” and his friend Tom Wilson (Bill Mauldin), who is alternatively credited as “The Loud Soldier.”  Henry has heard that the regiment, along with the rest of the Union Army, is about to move up river and come in behind the Confederates.  He tells this to Tom, requesting that he not to say anything, but true to his other appellation, he immediately gabs to the rest of his compatriots.  This movement means imminent battle and a dilemma for Henry: will he fight when the time comes, or will he run?  He shares his concerns with Jim Conklin (John Dierkes), who is also displayed as the “Tall Soldier,” by asking his comrade whether he will flee.  Jim does not rule it out, but thinks he will stand his ground if put to it.  Henry is tested that night when, while on guard duty, a Confederate sentry warns him to get out of the light or be shot.  The next day brings more drilling, which means more feigned bravado on Henry and his fellow soldiers’ part about wanting to get into the action.  They do not have long to wait as they are soon ordered to collect their belongings and get to marching.  A somewhat long walk and the promised river fording later, they arrive at the on-going battle.  Henry is doing his best to not panic, though he does make it through the first charge by the Rebels.  It is the second push by the enemy that sends him into flight, throwing down his rifle and running head long in the opposite direction.  He does not get too far before regret begins to tug at him.  His shame is compounded when he overhears one of the generals talking about how they had repulsed the attack from which he had just run away.  He wanders around the rear areas some more and eventually comes to a long line of wounded soldiers shuffling along a road.  Among them he finds Jim, and tries to help the wounded man along.  Jim is clearly shattered, mentally as well as physically, from the devastation he had endured.  Not in his right mind, he leaves the path and struggles up a hill.  He is chased by Henry and another injured soldier, who get to Jim just as the Tall Soldier falls down and dies.  Leaving his friend’s side, Henry later comes across another group of Yankees running in a disordered manner. Trying to stop one to learn what is happening, he is instead struck in the head and falls to the ground.  Coming to that night, he is able to make it back to his camp.  There he finds Tom, and claims that the bump on his head is the result of being shot.  Henry’s experiences fill him with resolve to do better when he again gets into a battle.  He gets the opportunity on the proceeding day.  Facing another Rebel onslaught, and once more seeing it off, Henry goes out in front of his compatriots, yelling and firing at them as they flee.  His behavior earns him the recognition of his commanding officer (Douglas Dick), who wishes he had more soldiers like Henry.  That night by the fire, though, Henry admits to Tom that he had fled the battlefield on the first day, to which the so-called Loud Soldier softly suggests that given the chaos, nobody noticed.  It renews Henry’s confidence.  The next afternoon, not only does he behave bravely again, but he takes up the Union flag when its original carrier falls.  He then chases after the retreating Confederates with it, inspiring the others to follow him.  We close with him and the rest of his regiment marching away, satisfied with a job well done.

I cannot say The Red Badge of Courage overall is a job well done.  A clue to this, other than my tone, could be the shortness of my synopsis.  This is also a function of the fact that the film is barely seventy minutes in length.  Supposedly, there is a two-hour version out there, but thankfully that has been lost.  Despite the historical inaccuracies that pained me as a former Civil War reenactor and a scholar, there was one moment that satisfied me as a practicing Catholic.  It takes place during the scene described above when Henry admits that he ran away.  Specifically, he refers to it as a “confession.”  Of course, I doubt that Huston had the Catholic Sacrament in mind for these lines, but the concept is the same.  Particularly, it is in how Henry talks about feeling better after he avows his cowardice.  He sees how he acted in the face of battle as a sin.  War is a tricky subject from a faith perspective.  We are taught not to kill our fellow man, and yet doing so is sometimes justified in the eyes of God.  It comes with a lot of caveats, though, and should never be done lightly.  The problem with such fighting is that the other person is also trying to end your life.  You may intend to do such to them, but they also have a say in the matter.  This is no easy task to endure.  I bring this up because I am not convinced that Henry acted sinfully.  His behavior is not ideal, but it is understandable.  What is better is the fact that he is eventually willing to admit it.  The weight that is lifted off him when doing so is an experience many Catholics feel when they leave the Confessional.  Sin, or whatever it is that you are carrying inside your soul, is like a burden that can keep you from doing any number of things.  Spiritually speaking, it prevents you from going to Heaven unless you seek Reconciliation, what the actual Sacrament is called.  With it, Henry is able to rally himself and his comrades to a higher purpose, and that is worth something.

The one good thing you can say about The Red Badge of Courage is that it is short.  The lesson about admitting guilt is good, too, though not entirely original.  I cannot say this film is useful for much of anything, even for those who might have to read the book for school and try to cut corners by watching the movie.  If you want a good flick about the same period, see Glory (1989).