Value of humor in trying times

In researching ideas for this week I came across a story that I’d written many years ago on the importance of humor, especially during times of stress. Our current issues with COVID-19 have created stress for all of us in our battle against an unseen foe. Some would call it a war.

There’s nothing amusing about war, but those who are fighting them are still human beings caught in the crossfire, and we humans have a long history of using humor to guide us away from the ugly voice of darkness. With this in mind, each of us should take a little time each day to practice some healing forces of humor.

One story about humor and war dates back to World War I. It has many versions, and oftentimes the names are changed, and the date is forwarded to World War II, the Korean War, and the Viet Nam War. The following version goes back to the original story, but it, too, has some new variations. Timely too in that the Great Influenza outbreak of 1918 created stresses on society that mirror our current coronavirus pandemic. This is my own version of the story:

On a day in mid-September, l918, Col. Bozeman Bulger was driving his car straight into the battle zone where there had been some unrelenting, hazardous, and bloodletting fighting with the Germans. Smoke filled the autumn air, and through the haze Col. Bulger saw a company of ragged soldiers walking out of the chaos of battle.

Long before they appeared, he could hear them singing: “How will you keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree….”. They were, as he described them, the most pitiful, crippled, filthy looking, and wounded bunch of soldiers he had ever seen; yet they were singing and laughing.

Leading the weary group was a young man not more than 25 years old. He and his men were filthy from fighting in the trenches. They were haggard, their faces were gray from exhaustion, and they were thirsty and hungry. Col. Bulger stopped his car and walked toward the soldiers and asked them how he could be of help. Their only immediate requests were for cigarettes.

Col. Bulger supplied the men with all the cigarettes he could find in his car, and as they sat puffing away on the cherished tobacco, Bulger asked the young officer questions about what had been going on at the front. The young man answered in a friendly southern voice. Later, Bulger learned that the officer was a West Point magna cum laude graduate, his father was a Georgia senator, his grandmother had been a leading organizer of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, and his mother was a medical doctor.

“Things have been intoler’ble, to say the least, suh,” the young man answered. “We have fought the Germans day and night for weeks, no chow, no tobacco, no makin’s, jest rain and gooey mud like nothin’ evah seen back home in Geo’ja. It’s been bad, suh, and most of us have been here ovah' a yea. We stink so badly; the enemy runs the other way when they see us comin’.”

Col. Bulger was amused at how the young officer was able to make light of such a bad situation, and he felt that the officer’s attitude had been responsibility for the company’s survival.

“Suh, it seems that they have overlooked us when passin’ out those trips to Paris. I’ve been there befo’ with my family, but mah’ men mostly come from farms and have nevah’ seen big city life,” the young officer said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the song ‘How ya’ goin’ to keep them down on the farm, afta’ they’ve seen Paree. Well, if these fellas evah get to Paris, their dear mommas will nevah’ see them again.”

Col. Bulger was fascinated with the young officer who told him about his career, as a young teacher. “Yes, suh, I was teachin’ school back home in Geoja’ when the war broke out, and my fatha’ wanted me to wait and be drafted, but I knew that it was my moral responsibility to volunteer, especially afta’ Senator Morris Sheppard, one of my fatha’s colleagues, came to our town and made a rousing, genuine, backbone speech that made me volunteer.”

“I can still hear Senator Morris Sheppard tellin’ us, ‘To you, our young men of America, l stand before you on this day, when America need you most, and I tell you now that it’s your duty to start satisfying your national honor.’ Within a few weeks, I received my commission, and, suh, here I am, and if I had it to do ovah’ I reckon that I wouldn’t hesitate a gosh-dern minute to do it again.”

“That’s a noble thought, young man,” said Col. Bulger, “and I am proud that you have set such a remarkable example of national honor to these young men under your leadership.”

The young officer put out his cigarette and asked for another. After a few long puffs on the newly-lit tobacco, the West Point graduate took Bulger aside and whispered in his ear: “But, Major, now don’t get me wrong. I love my country, and I’ll defend it to the death, but when I look back on all that I’ve gone through, and all that mah’ men have gone through, in strict confidence, mind you, I have to tell you that my national honor is dern near satisfied!”

I know you all look forward to the day, hopefully only a few weeks away, when we’ll have served our community and can interact once again with friends and neighbors. But during this time of isolation I’ll try (as I hope you will as well) to insert as much humor and joy into my life as I possibly can. I hope also to define success as being a good optimist. It will all work out in the end.

THE OPTIMIST

The optimist fell ten stories,

At each window bar

He shouted to his friends:

“All right…so far.”

(Author Unknown)