In his earlier novels like “Coal Black Horse” and “Far Bright Star,” Olmstead made stark studies of the Civil War and the Mexican-American War.
Now, in The Coldest Night, Olmstead turns from 19th-century American conflicts to the Korean War, this time enlisting a protagonist who is a descendant of his previous protagonists. (Olmstead mentions “coal black horses” twice in his opening pages to get across the connection to his earlier work; unfortunately he leaves readers with a bleak image of the young boy who survived the Civil War as a 91-year-old whose entire family has fled his mountain. I could have lived without that sad epilogue as an introduction.)
Seventeen-year-old Henry Childs grew up in West Virginia, the only son of a single mom who worked as a nurse. He loved baseball and horses and Mercy, the daughter of a local judge. Mercy’s dad, however, wasn’t having any of it. Henry and Mercy run away together to New Orleans before her family can catch up with them, although – of course – they finally do.
Brokenhearted, Henry lies about his age and enlists in the Marines as a “hunter,” armed with a Browning automatic rifle. Like his ancestors, Henry is extremely good at soldiering, but it will take every milligram of skill he’s got to survive the Chosin Reservoir, a frozen nightmare of a battlefield Olmstead renders with epic skill.
The love story is, it must be said, the weakest part of “The Coldest Night.” Mercy isn’t nearly as fully realized a companion for Henry as is his fellow sniper, Lew, a World War II veteran from the same town in Charleston, W.Va.
But put Olmstead on a battlefield and stand back. The writing is powerful and the imagery stark. Readers will find that the forgotten war roars back to life again in the pages of Olmstead’s excellent novel.
