He said, “I guess that one’s not so much for remembering as for looking ahead.”

The barracks didn’t settle down until late, and there was a general understanding that lights-out wasn’t going to be enforced. Still, eventually guys finished up their packing, and noisy excitement gave way to quieter talks. I think that was when it really hit everyone that after this, we wouldn’t ever all be together again.

Apple, usually the one who could be counted on for a laugh, seemed especially subdued. Finally he said, “We did some pretty good work, huh? Or got a good start, anyway. I mean, it doesn’t seem like such a big thing, just building a small reservoir and helping some farmers along, but . . .”

Sam said, “But you add it to all the other ponds and parks the CCCs are building, and add in the fire lookouts going up on mountaintops and picnic grounds being fixed up and grazing land being restored, and it becomes a big thing.”

“It’s odd,” Apple said, still struggling for words. “I mean, to think that one day we won’t be here, but that something we did might be. See, I guess I’m wondering, what if we’ve already done the most important thing we’ll ever do?”

Sam, using newspapers to wrap a breakable, paused to read a story. The headline was something about Hitler’s troops in the Rhineland. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s something bigger ahead, and all this is just preparing us for it.”

And then all the chatter stopped, as Jimmy and Stan began playing their guitars. Nate got out his harmonica and Hal started softly singing. The last thing I would remember of that night was how, one after another, the guys picked up the song until we were all singing together.

It took all the trucks to get everybody to the train station the next morning. I rode in with Sam to see him off. It should have been a good last chance to visit, but somehow we couldn’t get past starts and stops of talk.

And at the station, when his train was about ready to go, all I could think of to say was, “So, Senator, good luck.”

“You, too, Trawnley.”

It was a pretty sorry exchange for a pair of good friends, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to improve on it.

The train whistle sounded and a conductor called, “All aboard. All aboard.”

Suddenly Sam gave me a big hug and then, fast as that, he was gone.

I’d planned to see the train off, but I just couldn’t. I gave a general wave at the guys packed in it, and then headed for the trucks, walking as fast as I could.