TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club [Book 12]

by Robert P McAuley

  Hearing some more passengers approaching and as he was sitting on the side next to the platform, he saw five officers looking splendid with medals and gold braids on their shoulders. Somehow they entered the cars in front of his. Hearing more passengers enter his car, Dave spotted a group of captains that took seats in his car. One sat opposite him, looked over and his long drooping black mustache went up in a friendly smile as he said, “Hello there.” he stood and offered Dave his hand, “Captain Joseph Kowalski, but please call me Joe.”

  “Uh, yes, and I’m Captain Dave McKinnon.” Seeing the captain’s dark mustache he felt that he should start one himself. “Please, Joe, call me Dave.” He tilted his head and went on, “Are you with the general officers that just entered the first few cars?”

  “Yes. General Chamberlain. He’s in charge of supplies. What about you?”

  “I’m traveling alone. I’m on my way to meet with Captain Bill Merrill. He’s with General Sherman.”

  The captain took his campaign hat off and shook out his long brown hair. “Not sure that I’ve heard of him. What unit is he with?”

  “He heads up a cartographers unit.”

  “Oh, the mapmaker. I hear he does some mighty fine work. Do you create maps as well?”

  “Yes. I hope to work with the captain.” Dave tilted his head towards the front and asked, “I imagine the generals are in the front three cars?”

  “Yep!” he answered with a grin, “Our generals make sure they have the best.” He looked around and as he held up a pair of saddlebags, said in a lower tone of voice, “Because I had to make sure that General Chamberlain had his vittles, I had the cook make me some sliced chicken on cut brown bread. What say that we have dinner together? Because this train stops at every base and drops off and picks up mail, it’s a two day ride to Chattanooga, and,” he added, “if the generals decide to sleep on a real bed in a hotel a person can add another day to the trip. So we eat when we can.”

  “Then I take you up on your gracious offer, Joe.”

  “Oh, and one more thing,” the captain said as he stood and picked up his canteen. He shook it and said with a big smile, “The good general also has a taste for wine. Two glasses of this and one is ready to take a nap.”

  “Is there a sleeping car on this train?

  Joseph grinned and answered as he rolled his eyes, “There are six very plush beds aboard this train but they’re all in the third car and we happen to be in the fourth car.”

  “Ahh, I get it,” said Dave with a knowing grin, “They’re for the generals only. Correct?”

  “Yep! The head car is the refreshment bar car, the second is the dining car and the third is the sleeping car.”

  “And,” added Dave, “the fourth is our car.”

  “Correct again my friend.”

  “And,” Dave went on, “I imagine the next car is our sleeping car?”

  “Well, sort of. You see this train is sent south not only to pickup and deliver mail, but to return to Washington with casualties. We get to sleep in the beds that they will be brought back north in.”

  The time traveler nodded, “I see.”

  “Not really,” said Joe standing, “Follow me and take a look at our sleeping arrangements.”

  Dave followed him past the other captains who were lying down on their seats with their eyes closed. At the end of the rocking car he pulled open the door then the door to the next car and stepped in followed by Dave.

  It was an old car that was made mostly out of wood with the window shades pulled down which challenged the single overhead oil lamp for illumination. Dave walked slowly to the center of the car feeling the old wooden floorboards give slightly. On each side there were ten sets of bunk beds, three high. They were made of wood and had thin straw-filled mattresses.

  “Is this what the wounded lay in on the trip back? Dave asked as he felt the mattress.

  “Joe nodded, “Yeah. Pretty bad, right?”

  “Yes, pretty bad indeed.”

  “Well,” said Joe as they exited the car, “that’s where we’re supposed to sleep tonight.” He gave a hard grin and said, “It’s really not too bad. They change the straw after each trip.”

  The two men ate dinner and washed it down with white wine before lying down on one of the beds. Within fifteen minutes snores told Dave that his companions were fast asleep and as he started to drift off he suddenly sat up and hit his head on the bunk above him as he thought, My God, I’m back in time! I’m back in time and I just ate dinner with a guy who died over one hundred years ago! He shook his head, No not, one hundred years ago: one hundred years from my time. I mean, one hundred years from over one hundred years from now. What-what am I thinking? He held his head in his hands as it all started to unravel. Slow it down, Dave, slow it down and think. There’s no bad news, only good. You always wished to be back in the 1800s and you’ve been given the chance. Plus, everyone that you’ve met took it for granted that you are not some sort of an alien. They all believe that you’re from 1864 and you yourself believed it for a few hours as you and Joe ate dinner together. And thanks to the 1800 Club, you are well versed in world politics and never once spoke ‘out of club time’, so relax. Relax and enjoy the trip. Look at what you’re doing! You are riding a train powered by steam as you go down tracks that are still fairly new and for what? To save General Sherman! As Bill Scott said, just go with the flow and stay in club time. He relaxed and lay back and grinned in the dark as he continued his thoughts, Ouch! Dave McKinnon, you just got stuck in the ribs by a piece of straw that poked through a mattress as you ride on a train in 1864. Who wouldn’t want to be in your place? I bet that every club member would jump at the chance! Relax and enjoy it.

  The sway of the train along with the clack-clack of the steel wheels rolling on the sections of rail soon put him to sleep.

  Dave slept through the stops and woke up at six-thirty a refreshed and determined man. He opened his grip and took his toiletries into the rest room that was at the end of every car. The sink was small and just like the commode when he looked straight down the small drain he saw the wooden railroad ties go by. “Ha! he said, “It’s a ‘lookout below’ system. The sink had just one faucet and that dispensed cool water from a tank on the car’s roof. Gravity allowed the trickle of water to come out the open faucet and then down the drain to end up on the railroad ties. Finished, he left the small room to see Joe coming his way with a small towel over his shoulder.

  “Good morning, Dave. Trust you slept well?” asked his new friend.

  “Absolutely! And you?”

  “Same. One does not toss and turn on a straw-filled mattress. Once one finds a position where no straw prods them, one stays in that position for the night.”

  “Good one,” answered Dave. See you in our car.”

  Over a breakfast of left over chicken and cool water the two men chatted about everything from the war to men flying someday.

  “I expect that we will be at our destination by late afternoon,” said Joe.

  “Oh? How do you figure that?”

  “The generals never asked to stop and stay over in any of their usual places. That leads me to believe that they have orders to get to Chattanooga as soon as possible.”

  Just before noon the train stopped to drop off mail and everyone got off and purchased food and drinks except the generals. When Dave asked why the generals don’t have to get off and buy food, Joe laughed and said, “Heck, they got a whole dining car to themselves with cooks and all.”

  Over a lunch of sliced beef, sweet potatoes and corn, Joe asked, “So, Dave, where are you going after we pull into Chattanooga?”

  “I have to go to Cartersville where Captain Merrill has his group set up.”

  “That’s about seventy miles from Chattanooga.”

  “Yep. I hope to get a lift on a supply wagon or something.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard. Heck, supply wagons roll south all day long and stop at Cartersville before returning. I bet I c
an get General Chamberlain to sign a letter that would get you aboard any wagon you liked. I’m betting that that would help.”

  “Boy, it sure would.”

  “One minute,” Joe said as he opened his leather grip and took out a sheet of white paper. “Let me write something up and go and see him.” Using the grip as a table he wrote on the paper and in a few minutes showed Dave the letter. It was written on the general’s letterhead and said, To whom it may concern. Captain Dave McKinnon is heading to battle and any assistance that you can give him would be greatly appreciated by me. Sincerely, Major General C. S. Chamberlain.

  “This is fantastic, Joe. Are you sure that I’m not putting you or the general through any trouble?”

  “Naw,” answered Joe as he folded the note, “I have to see if he needs anything anyhow and he usually just signs anything I put before him. I’ll be right back.”

  Dave watched as his friend left their car and entered the next one. He was back in ten minutes and handed him the signed letter.

  “This is great, Joe. Wish I could return the favor.”

  “Heck, you already did. I hate eating alone and talking with you made the time fly by.”

  The train pulled into Chattanooga at six p.m. and Joe and Dave shook hands.

  “Great talking with you, Dave and good luck and keep your head down.”

  “Same here, Joe and thanks an awful lot for the letter. Hope to see you again.”

  “Same here, partner, now I got to go and tend to the general.” He waved as he walked down the wooden platform and entered the first car.

  What a great guy, Dave thought as he picked up his grip. I’m sure going to miss him. He left the platform and was stopped immediately by a trooper who said, “Sir, may I see your papers?”

  “Sure, corporal, here.” He passed him his identification papers and said, “Can you tell me where the wagons depart from towards Atlanta?”

  The corporal handed him back his papers and answered as he pointed at a large tent, “Sure can, sir. See that big tent? That’s where most of the wagons leave from.” He looked Dave in the eye and continued, “You do know, sir, that they head towards the battle field?”

  Dave answered with a nod, picked up his grip again and walked over to the large tent. Once he got there he found that the opening was on the other side and walked around only to be stunned by the large amount of wagons all taking on ammunition and other supplies. There were large flat bed wagons that were pulled by four horses, smaller high sided ones pulled by two and then a very large wagon that was pulled by six horses. It was different than the others as it had a high canvas covering which reminded him of a Conestoga wagon that the settlers used to cross the country. That’s the one for me, he thought as he headed towards it. Sitting on the flat wooden bench-seat with his foot resting on the brake was a private who must have been in his mid-forties. Portly with his black and gray hair twisted into a sort of ponytail he was one of the very few men that didn’t have a mustache and he watched with large green eyes as Dave came towards him. He gave a short salute as he said, “G’day, Cap’n. Need a ride?”

  “Good day to you too, trooper and yes I do need a ride. Mind if I ride with you?”

  “Well if ya don’t mind ridin’ in a wagon loaded with gun powder, just tell Sergeant Block. He’s in the tent usually holdin’ a clip board.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right back.” Dave entered the tent and spotted the sergeant right away as he sat at an empty wooden crate which he used as a desk for his paperwork. He looked up as Dave approached and started to rise as Dave said, “As you were, sergeant. I was told that if I need a ride towards Atlanta you are the person to see.”

  “That’s right, captain. Where are you going to?”

  “Just outside of Marietta.”

  The sergeant nodded, “Darn close to the fightin’.”

  Dave nodded and said, “Yes.”

  The sergeant wiped his hands on his trousers and asked, “Can I see your papers, sir?”

  “Of course,” he said handing him the letter from General Chamberlain.

  “Mmm, General Chamberlain. You on his staff or somthin’?”

  “No, actually I’m traveling south to meet up with Captain Merrill to join up with his group.”

  “Captain Merrill? Wow! I hear that his guys go out on their own. Sorta like scouts to check out where the army should attack.”

  “Yep. That’s his group. Now,” said Dave, “I was talking with the private driving the big rig with six horses and he says he’ll take me down if it’s good with you.”

  “Ha! Private Four Times?”

  “Private Four Times?” asked a puzzled Dave, “I don’t understand.”

  Sergeant Block laughed and went on as he wrote something in his notebook, “That’s Charley Goodnight. We call him Private Four Times because he made it all the way to sergeant before getting busted back down to private, four times.”

  “What did he do, drink?”

  “Naw, usually he loses his rifle or something just before he’s about to go back down south with his regiment.”

  Sounds like he’s one smart guy to me, Dave thought before he answered, “Well if it’s good with you, I’ll gladly ride with him.”

  “If that’s what ya want to do, captain, feel free. But if there’s any shootin’ about, ol’ Four Times will be under the wagon saying his prayers.”

  Dave grinned and went back outside and tossed his grip into the wagon.

  “Sergeant Block gave ya the okay, captain?”

  “Yep,” Dave answered as he climbed up next to him. He offered is hand and said, “I’m Dave, and you are . . .?”

  After a moment of surprise the man answered, “Uh, well, well, they call me . . . “

  “Don’t give me the four times thing. I’m Dave and you are who?”

  “I’m Charley, Charley Goodnight.” He squinted and asked, “but shouldn’t I call you captain?”

  “Dave is fine, Charley. How soon before we leave?”

  He shrugged, “The wagon is loaded and all we need ta do is get some vittles.” He took his foot off of the brake and guided the rig away from the tent and stopped at the Quartermaster’s tent, hopped down and went inside. He came out ten minutes later carrying a large full bag, which he set in the back. He climbed up and quickly took the reins and brought the team up to a trot as someone from the tent started to shout after him.

  “What’s up, Charley?” asked Dave as the team accelerated down the hard packed dirt road that ran through the camp.

  “Uh, nothin’ ta be excited about, cap, I mean, Dave. I got what we need and on the way out found s stack of vittles that we might need so I took them.” He looked back over his shoulder and added, “He won’t chase us as he knows the minute he leaves the tent some of the other guys will steal him blind.”

  Charley guided the rig like a pro and joined a wagon train that had left thirty-minutes before them. After ten minutes a rider from the front came back and seeing the new wagon that had joined his train smiled and shouted to Charley, “Hey, Four Times, how’s life treating ya?”

  “Like coffee in the mornin’: tough ta take but it’s the only one ya got.” The rider laughed and rode back to the front.

  They drove about fifteen miles when dark clouds started to form. Charley looked up and said, “The train will probably ride another ten miles and then settle down for the night.”

  Five minutes later the first raindrop hit the wooden seat and Charley said as he passed the reins to Dave, “Just hold them loosely til I take them back.” As they rolled along he deftly got out of his seat and entered the covered section of the wagon. Dave watched as he moved two light boxes and sat on one. “Pass me them reins, Dave and come on back an’ join me.”

  Dave passed him the reins and climbed into the covered rear and sat on the jury-rigged seat next to him as Charley guided the horses from the wagon’s interior.

  “Good idea, Charley.”

  “Yup! That’s why I like ta dr
ive the covered wagon. I rigged up this seat so if it rained I could drive from inside and stay dry and if the sun’s too hot I climb back into the shade. By now them other guys who didn’t want ta drive a six horse wagon are soaking wet.”

  Six miles later they left the road and formed a circle as they camped for the night. Charley took a roll of canvas and with Dave’s help, covered the horses with a makeshift tent of their own before feeding them.

  Dave watched as Charley then rolled down an extra section of canvas to create an awning from the side of the wagon to two wooden pegs he hammered into the ground. He started a fire and soon had a pot of fresh coffee followed by fried potatoes, ham and hard bread. Dave followed suit as the private poured some hot black coffee on the hard bread to soften it.

  After dinner, they both climbed into the wagon and Dave found that Charley had covered the wagon’s floor with straw and after finding a softer spot he followed Charley’s lead and fell asleep.

  There was no reveille the next morning as most of the troops didn’t sleep well under their wagons anyway. Charley reheated the coffee and they had fried bacon, potatoes and hard bread that they once again poured their coffee over to soften.

  The sun was on the rise when the wagon train got back on the road. The day was dry and sunny and the area that the wagon train drove through gradually showed signs of battle. There were water-filled holes where cannon balls had exploded, discarded rifles, pistols and broken swords as well as dead horses and parts of uniforms, both blue and gray. They were warned by troopers on horseback providing security to stay on the road as the wooded areas still contained straggling enemy soldiers. Wanting to leave the area as soon as possible, the train master had them eat lunch as they drove and they covered twenty-five miles before making camp.

  Before they went to sleep Charley said, “Ya know, Dave. You just aint like most officers I met. And that’s a good thing. But if yer smart you’ll get back ta being a real captain again as some of the guys might take advantage of ya.”