One upon a time a woman sat by the side of a river and sang a sad little song to herself.
A passing captain heard the song and was immediately smitten by its mournful tune.
“Why do you sing such a sad melody?” he asked.
“I sing it for my husband who is gone for a soldier,” she told him.
“And what is your husband’s name?”
She told him and he was surprised to recognise it as one of the men in his company.
“I know him,” he said. “He is a good man and a fine soldier.”
“Perhaps that is so, but he was a good husband and a fine father until the army took him.” And she began to sing her sad little song again.
The captain rode on and left her by the banks of the river but her song stayed with him and he found himself singing its melody as he rode.
Now at that time there were wars being fought all across the land as wars were ever fought – but the more the captain sang the tune the less inclined he felt to return to his regiment until, after ten miles or so, he made up his mind to cast off his uniform and leave the fighting to those who cared for it.
In the morning, when it was discovered that the captain had not returned to his unit, a patrol was sent to discover his whereabouts, since he was a good and capable officer.
The men discovered him sitting in the shade of an oak tree. His jacket and hat had gone, cast away into a ditch, and his sword lay broken at his side. He was humming a little tune softly to himself.
“You must come back with us, sir,” the corporal said. “For we go into battle tomorrow.”
“If you go, then you go without me,” the captain told them. “And I wish you good luck.”
“The man is mad,” one of the soldiers said. “Look at his face, listen to his voice, obviously his wits have gone.”
And so they took the captain back to his regiment with his hands bound behind him. He did not protest but continued to sing his sad little song as he marched.
The soldiers that heard it found that the song stayed with them and they too began to hum its melody.
When they brought the captain before the general he said:
“There is no room for cowards in this army. Have the man shot.” The general was deaf from many years of cannon fire and could not hear the song so he was unmoved by it.
They took the captain out into the middle of a field and tied him to a tree. All the while he was singing his sad little tune, since nothing in the world short of death would make him stop.
When the muskets sounded the song ended. But the men in the firing squad had heard its refrain and when they returned to their comrades they brought the song with them.
In the morning the general emerged from his tent and found that his men were not ready for battle. They leaned against their muskets with their eyes closed and, if the general could have heard it, they filled the dawn with music.
“Cowards!” he stormed. “Cowards all!”
When the enemy crossed the plain towards them, their flags unfurled and their bands playing martial tunes, they were met not by bullets and grapeshot but by wave after wave of a sad little tune. There were no words, for the captain had never learned them, but the melody held such longing, such loss and such love that no one who heard it could be unmoved by it. And as each man heard it, he lowered his musket to the ground, threw off his tunic and began to sing along.
In the end, when the song was taken up by a hundred thousand voices, it drifted across the battlefield and back to where the woman sat by the side of the river.
She smiled to herself.
Her husband would be home before long.
James Lecky is an actor and theatre director from Derry in Northern Ireland who lives with his wife and cat and is sickeningly happy about it. His previous work has appeared in EDF, Mirror Dance and the anthology Emerald Eye.
Did you like this story?
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.- Share on Facebook
Rate this story
31 Responses to “THE SONG THE SOLDIERS SANG: A FABLE • by James Lecky”
Comments
« MONKEY LOVE • by Barbara A. Barnett | Home | February’s Table of Contents »
January 30th, 2009 at 12:25 am
A very powerful fairytale – I really enjoyed this one.
Axxx
January 30th, 2009 at 1:19 am
Excellent, James, I really enjoyed this. Moving without being sentimental. Great job.
January 30th, 2009 at 1:32 am
5 stars for sure, though I’m biased cos he’s local.
Reminded me of Orson Scott Card’s “Unaccompanied Sonata”. To get even more obscure I can clearly visualize this story as an episode of the “The Storyteller”, that old Jim Henson show with John Hurt as the narrator. Would have been perfect for it. Hey ho.
January 30th, 2009 at 2:07 am
Beautiful and lingering. Thanks for this wonderful tale!
January 30th, 2009 at 3:57 am
…And then, after her husband comes home, the enemy will also come, and even if they too are moved by the song so that they do not kill they will still forage and eat as conquering armies do, and the wife and her children will starve, after the way of such things.
January 30th, 2009 at 4:47 am
Sickeningly haunting. 5 from me
January 30th, 2009 at 6:28 am
Beautiful story.
January 30th, 2009 at 6:41 am
A truly beuatifuk stiry and one we really need now in times like these.
January 30th, 2009 at 7:11 am
Lovely tale–though for those of us who believe in hope, it is more than a fairy tale . . it’s a possibility. All we have to do is listen and sing along. I am . . . are you?
January 30th, 2009 at 7:23 am
Gosh PM Lawrence, I don’t recall that ending in the story that James Lecky actually wrote.
Is it just me, or has there been a rash lately of comments that have nothing to do with the story as-posted on EDF? I’m looking at you PM Lawrence, and at Roberta SchulbergGoro.
For my part, I liked this one; it kept the fable voice throughout and didn’t cheat on the “bad stuff” (i.e., the firing squad).
January 30th, 2009 at 7:33 am
Beautifully told, the prose matching both the wistful emotion and the simplicity of the tale. I am confused about who heard only the melody and not the words. Did the enemy musical bands move out of the way of the belligerance, then allowing the enemy soldiers to hear the plaintive song? If they “sing along” they know the words too. Did that leave only the militant captains to battle it out alone in some cleared area as all the soldiers of both sides, knowing the words, went home singing?
January 30th, 2009 at 7:40 am
Delightful.
January 30th, 2009 at 10:25 am
I loved this story & found it to be simple but powerful.
January 30th, 2009 at 10:51 am
I think PML has hit on something. And I figured out the words to the bewitching song sung by the siren of peace, jealous for her husband’s company while next door in Darfur, the innocent bled; Rodney King’s query of “Can’t we all just get along?” set to the tune “We are the World”
–dj
January 30th, 2009 at 12:43 pm
Fine story, Jim,
And not wholy untrue. In America’s civil war there were actually some romantic songs banned because they made the men too homesick and the brass was afraid of them causing disertions.
January 30th, 2009 at 1:11 pm
I especially liked the kernel of hope in this story. It is sad and haunting itself.
January 30th, 2009 at 2:02 pm
I loved this one! Excellent job, James!
~Merc
January 30th, 2009 at 2:05 pm
Lovely stuff. Had all the qualities of a perfect folk song.
January 30th, 2009 at 3:02 pm
Although I sometimes disagree with P.M. Lawrence’s evaluations, interpretations, and conclusions, he always enlightens on alternate readings and comparisons with reality as he knows it. Good reading casts light on life itself, which is always the purpose and comparison.
January 30th, 2009 at 5:12 pm
Good ‘reading’ casts light on life itself? Don’t quite understand that…
Good story, James, I liked it a lot.
January 30th, 2009 at 9:01 pm
Says a lot about the way to make a change. Nicely written, James.
January 30th, 2009 at 10:57 pm
Fantastic story! Agree with other Commenters. Beautiful and haunting.
January 31st, 2009 at 6:50 am
Jacqueline McKenna-
By “reading” is meant both the writing presented and any comment regarding it or regarding its relation to life as understood by the commentor. By “life” is meant the experiences of human beings or of the universe as human beings understand it:
Good story
James Lecky
I Liked it a
Lot.
January 31st, 2009 at 8:07 am
So a negative or erroneous reading is still ‘good reading’?
January 31st, 2009 at 10:00 am
It’s ridiculous to assert that any old comment on a story somehow illuminates the story, or life, or anything else. Some comments are just silly, and can safely be disregarded.
It’s crazy, the way some commentators insist on taking a sweet, simple story and burden it with all sorts of baggage never intended by the author. Just let the story be, for pete’s sake.
January 31st, 2009 at 2:13 pm
It’s so fine that EDF brings a forum to those interested in all contemporary literature and even those commentors who are not professional commentators have a chance to exchange ideas and points of view about writing.
January 31st, 2009 at 2:52 pm
I know that among those taking special interest in EDF and EDP are, in addition to writers, actors who must know the range of human experience and the possible effects of written words to act well, musicians who use their own and others’ poetry in their work, weavers of backgrounds and stage effects in all kinds of new electronic media which use poetry and drama, and comedians who are concentrating on the comment section in creating funny staged disputations.
January 31st, 2009 at 10:14 pm
The story was great. Fables are so hard to write well, but you did an awesome job. I love how visual this piece is, even though there is little description in the story itself. I had a mental picture running through my head the whole time I was reading.
Roberta, you’re a bit of an ass.
February 1st, 2009 at 5:16 am
And a head as well.
February 1st, 2009 at 7:37 am
Beautiful…..
I can picture it all in my head…….
Well written…
Gave it a 5….
February 1st, 2009 at 11:42 am
Thanks to everyone for the kind words. I’m glad the story got such a good reception.