On April 6, 1917, the U.S. decided to join with various European countries to fight German aggression in what is now called World War I. Although willing to fight, the U.S. wasn’t prepared to. It needed to bolster its number of troops, and so it instituted conscription, what we now often refer to as the “draft.” Like most American men of the time, Darger followed the law and registered for the draft on June 2, and three and a half months later, on September 20, he was drafted.
He was sent to Camp Grant in nearby Rockford, IL first and was later herded onto a train bound for Camp Logan (now Memorial Park) in Houston, TX.
But Darger didn’t like being an infantryman. In his autobiography written over half a century later, he complained about how the many vaccinations he had to take as a new recruit left his arm sore. He implied that he didn’t like the food (although he loved the snacks he could buy at the canteen). Most important of all, he grumbled about how he hated leaving what he loved most behind in Chicago.
Always a creative problem solver, Darger figured out a way of getting out of the army. He began to carp about his eyesight when he arrived at Camp Logan. Doctors there put him though a very thorough eye examination that lasted for several days. As it turned out, Darger flunked the tests—on purpose. He claimed not to be able to see things when he could, or he exaggerated his genuinely weak eyesight, making it appear worse than it was.
Within a little over three months of his induction, Darger was honorably discharged from the army, put onto the Katy Flier, one of the fastest trains of its day, and sent home to Chicago. He returned to work at St. Joseph’s Hospital immediately.
But what was it that he loved and missed so much that he deceived the military—and risked imprisonment if his deception were discovered—to return to it?
For the answer to this and other mysteries surrounding the life of outsider artist Henry Darger, be on the lookout for Throw-Away Boy: A Life of Henry Darger…
