“The Brigadier expects much of us, telling me that the farther west the man came from the tougher he must be. Only the most self-sufficient and go-ahead young men go West, so he said, and I told him he was right, and that we had some mighty fierce boys in our ranks, and in the officers mess too.”
Dick winced, waiting to be singled out.
“I named one of our captains, as you would expect, and the Brigadier was mighty impressed! He told me straight out that with men like that we would be at the front of his line every time. The ladies at home are goin’ to see our names written down in their newspapers, boys!”
The officers cheered; some of them slapped Dick’s back.
“Now then, gentlemen – business! I have gotten hold of an order to the Quartermaster to let us have five hundred rounds a man of powder and caps and ball this month, and the same next. That means we fire most of them rounds off in practice. Not all of them, because I think it’s goin’ to be very sensible to have a reserve built up in our own man’s hands. So we goin’ to put one hundred a man into our own wagons, tucked away good and safe. Suppose we in a battle some place and we can’t get supplies brought up, then we got another day’s fightin’ looked after.”
They could not see that was so very important – none of them could imagine a battle that lasted into a second day.
“We chasing them Southrons back to their kennels down country a way, maybe we pushing forward faster than a quartermaster wagon can roll, gentlemen. Our own supplies means we don’t have to stop and let them rebels get away! We goin’ to march all the way to the Gulf of Mexico, if that’s what it takes, and we goin’ to need the wherewithal to kill every damn one of them slavedrivers if so be they ain’t about to lay down their arms!”
They could all understand that, knowing that they were certainly going to defeat the Secessionists in very short order.
They cheered.
“So then, gentlemen – first thing is to set ourselves up a firing range – safe and sensible so we don’t go shooting up the neighbours. Then we get the men into the way of using their rifles, sharpshooting and volley fire in ranks both. They mostly knows well how to handle a long gun, but they need to learn the proper words and to obey them. Bring them to march up in column and then deploy into two lines and take it in turns to fire on command. Sounds easy enough. Looks simple in the books. But I got a suspicion, gentlemen, that it could be a bit harder in the field – so we practice six days a week.”
General opinion was that it would be simple; the men would be perfect within a very few days.
“We don’t need none of that Prussian stuff, colonel – straight lines and every man exactly the same distance from the next to the quarter of an inch! Easy enough to get the boys to stretch out into a line, after all!”
“Officers I done talked to in Mexico all said it took some workin’ at, specially on rough ground or in the rain or setting up before sunrise. You practice them boys, you hear me?”
They said they did.
The officers had no alternative to the mess, had to stay together or go to their small tents to sleep; consequently most sat around the tables with a drink in hand and talking companionably. Inevitably they discussed the coming campaign – none of this regular army nonsense of banning ‘shop’ in the mess.
There was general agreement that the war could be neither long nor bloody – it would soon be over and with a minimum of actual conflict.
“It stands to reason, don’t it,” said Captain Weare, son of the largest store in Kansas City and promoted by that merit; like many of the others he should, strictly speaking, have joined a Missouri regiment but his father traded west much more than east. “The South has got almost nothing to fight a war with, other than cotton and tobacco. Damn nigh every gun and every ounce of powder got to come in from overseas. Their uniforms, even, got to be woven in foreign mills. Any cannon they possess they got to have stolen from Union arsenals or bought for hard cash from France or England or Austria or Prussia, where the great foundries are. The President has sent the navy to sea to blockade the ports and stop them bringing in weapons of war. They won’t fight for lack of anything to fight with!”
It was agreed to be a good argument.
“Besides that, Mr Weare, them Southern boys are soft! They too used to havin’ slaves do all the hard work for them. Put them out into wet bivouacs in the field and damn soon they goin’ to reckon they had enough.”
Lieutenant Cutler’s words of wisdom were also applauded; his father was editor of the largest newspaper in Kansas, so he was generally accepted to be well-informed. He was a younger son and not expected to enter the family business, but he had made a respectable competence from shooting buffalo and was definitely officer material even if not of the highest intellectual capacity.
Dick, as was his habit, remained almost silent. He saw no reason why the Union should not win its war in short order, but he was suspicious of inexperienced enthusiasts. He knew nothing of warfare, other than the acquaintance with Caesar that his studies in Latin had given him, but he doubted that any war could be easy or blood-free. He particularly doubted that the amateur boys of the Confederate Army would be any less sanguine and enthusiastic than his contemporaries in the mess. The two sides would run headlong into each other, he suspected, and kill with great glee for some little while, until, hopefully, wiser heads might prevail. He was committed, must butcher with the best in their first encounters; with luck an early promotion should pull him out of the hugger-mugger of the front lines; with even more luck, a bullet might solve all of his troubling. He would, he decided, seek a name for bravery – it would be very useful if he survived, and courage came easily to a man who did not care.
The morning saw Dick out with his ‘H’ Company. There was no range yet but he was not about to fire live. He set the men into two equal lines, odds and evens seemed simplest; then he led them to remember their numbers and place who was to either side and behind, or in front of, them. That took two hours; he had mentally allowed five minutes for the exercise, quickly recast all of his other assumptions.
“Now then, boys, form column of fours, your sergeants and corporals will put you into your proper places and this is where you will be every time from now.”
Dick was amazed, he could not comprehend just how complex a business it was to create four lines of twenty men, set in number order, two columns of odds, two of evens so that they could peel off into line without falling over each other. His second sergeant had seen it all before and was not in the least surprised.
“Terrible hard business, it is, sir, counting as high as twenty and getting to the same place every single time. That, sir, is the disadvantage of recruiting country boys – most of them ain’t never counted beyond five in their whole lives; one of them boys loses a finger and he’s got real problems! Wait and see what it’s like when we get to loading by numbers, sir!”
Sergeant Drake was close to forty, his body thick, middle-aged powerful; he carried a massive punch but he was very patient, luckily.
In the afternoon they practised forming a line again, then drew powder and ball. They made no attempt to load their rifles, merely discovered how to carry the pouches of cartridges and ball, placing them conveniently on their belts for ease of use and marching. Then they slung their rifles from their shoulders and formed up into close columns again and practised marching a few yards back and forwards, being shown how to hold the rifle so that it did not swing and bounce painfully off their hips, or against the man in the next file.
“In column, men, proceed to the Quartermaster and return cartridge and ball in readiness to draw again in the morning.”
“Pass the word quietly, Sergeant Drake, that the QM has dry storage so we keep the powder in his hands for its own good. Don’t let them get the idea that we don’t trust them not to practice loading in their tents in the evenings!”
“Even though that is the truth, sir.”
“In part, Sergeant; even more because som
e of them will get into alcohol on pay day and I definitely do not want loaded rifles in their hands if they get quarrelsome!”
“They’re trustworthy boys, Captain Burke.”
“No man who is taken by alcohol is trustworthy, Sergeant Drake.”
Almost all of the other officers had the same experience to recount that evening; two captains had not thought to give their men numbers, listened carefully so that they could do so in the morning.
The colonel announced that he had discovered a range for them, had brought the use of a pasture from a farmer. Two companies must throw up a bank of earth at the fenceline, making a ditch for the target men to take cover in as well. Dick raised a finger to the colonel, volunteering his men; it would give them a change from marching.
“Sergeant Pullings! How high and thick do we need to build the bank?”
“Ain’t many rifle bullets goin’ three feet through solid earth, Captain. So make it six foot for safety sake. No need for more than shoulder high, not so long as the corporals are watching their platoons; besides that, the land rises, makes a bit of hillside behind it. What about targets, Captain?”
“Colonel got them in hand, he says.”
The men were disconcerted when the targets were displayed, and shown to be depictions of soldiers in grey uniforms.
Two days and the range was usable and live practice began.
The men showed well in individual firing. None had used a Minie round before and all appreciated its advantages – it was far easier to ram and seemed to fly straighter, possibly even farther than a ball.
Volley firing was a different matter.
Dick and the sergeants explained that a volley, forty rifles together, could stop a charge much more effectively than as many individual shots.
“All them hosses or Reb soldiers hit all at once, goin’ down in the same place – well, the boys behind ain’t goin’ to like it none. Besides that, they make a bit of a barrier, slow the others down, hosses specially. Takin’ it in turns, first line then second, one reloading while the other fires, it’s goin’ to be a long hundred yards to cross, boys!”
It was a good argument, but the faster men could not quite understand why they must wait for the slower to finish reloading.
“Suppose a dozen or so in the front ain’t ready, Captain, well, they can always join with the second – we ain’t goin’ to lose none!”
It was a difficult argument to counter, and Dick had not read the textbook, did not know the official answer. He had to be content to say that volley-firing was the way it was done, and if the Duke of Wellington had thought it was good enough for winning Waterloo, well, he was not going to argue.
All of the men of English and Irish stock knew of Wellington and Waterloo – it was part of the British legend. The Germans, well over a quarter of the ranks, had not heard of either but had fathers who generally had experienced conscription in Prussia or one of the lesser states and had more idea of military behaviour.
Most of the men shrugged and got down to the task of learning the military skill; it was a part of the trade, they supposed. It was a slow process.
“Two volleys a minute, sir. It ain’t good enough, but it’s goin’ to take months of practice to get it up to three. With ninety-day soldiers, we ain’t got months.”
“Colonel’s talking to the boys, one by one, Mr Schafer. He’s gettin’ them to sign on again, making their ninety days start from Fort Sumter, so that they’re all the same. He’s told them they can all go home together that way, or all sign on for another stretch as one battalion still. Most of them haven’t argued, and those who weren’t too keen have stayed on with their own friends in their company, all of them together. None of them fancy going home and trying to explain why they left their own townsfolk behind to do the fighting.”
Sergeants Pullings and Drake were relieved; if they spent all of the next three months at drill then they might just turn the boys into soldiers who could live through a day of battle.
“The army will have to march well before the ninety days is up, Sergeant Pullings. By the beginning of July we must be in the field, or many of the regiments will disband and go home again, time served. Ready or not, these boys will have to go to war. Look on the bright side, man, the Southrons can’t be any more ready than we are!”
“They have more of regular captains and majors than we have, sir. The army has been taking more from the Southern States these last twenty years, sir. The navy is almost all New England, they tell me, but it ain’t the case for the army!”
Mail came through to them after a couple of weeks in camp; so did pay, to the colonel’s pleasant surprise.
“Paper money, not coins, but enough of it. I did think the boys would have to wait on the Union paymaster, but the Governor has come up with a month’s pay for us all!”
Having paid the men there was no alternative to giving them the opportunity to spend their money; they had to have weekend liberty.
"Half of them goin' to get too drunk to stand, colonel, then they goin' to find theyselves in the company of Scarlet Women!"
"Very true, Lieutenant Cutler, but there is nothing to be done about it. Luckily, I expect the doctors to arrive here tomorrow, and there will be a sickbay in existence by Monday."
"Be full by Tuesday, colonel!"
"You should have seen the boys in Mexico, Lieutenant Cutler. Most of them sought the company of ladies of easy virtue before they got drunk!"
Cutler was shocked. The minister had spoken to him at length before he had left home and he was certain in his own mind that sinners could not prevail in battle - yet the war in Mexico had been a glorious victory. The colonel must be mistaken, for the minister could not be. He raised the problem in the mess, asking for the opinion of the more experienced men.
"Best thing for you to do is go into Washington and find a high price house, Mr Cutler. That way you can discover for yourself the nature of temptation and gain a fuller appreciation of the men's sinfulness. It involves a sacrifice, I realise, but an officer must know all that affects his men and be awake to their problems. And, besides, once you have experienced their allure, you may always turn them down and walk righteously out of the house."
"Do you really think so, Mr Burke?" Cutler was amazed at the advice, but he could see its logic and, besides, he was curious to know just what it was about these women that attracted such excitement.
The others in the big tent concealed their grins and very gravely assured him there was no alternative for a conscientious young officer. He must discover the nature of the problem that so impinged upon his men.
"I must go into Washington myself, Mr Cutler, on a matter of business, but I could point you in the proper direction, if you wished."
Six of the others volunteered to accompany the pair, themselves having things to do in the city.
Schafer stood back from the group, raised an eyebrow to Dick.
"Time the boy grew up, Mr Schafer."
"With respect, Mr Burke, that boy's got to be five years older than you!"
"Then it most definitely is time for him to stop being a boy!"
Schafer reluctantly agreed but thought he would give the weekend's entertainment a miss himself.
"Saving my money for better things, Mr Burke. I shall take up land when this war is over. A few months of officer's wages will set me up in a good way."
Dick agreed enthusiastically - he liked Schafer and saw no reason to discourage him, if the farm life was what he wanted. He had other aims in mind, and did not expect the war to be soon over. He had a letter giving Miss Parson's direction in Washington and intended to talk business with her.
She had hired a tiny one-room office and assured Dick that it was only by luck that she had come across it - the city was full of speculators come to town to make a fortune. Many of them, she believed, were not good men - the war had brought out the lowest of characters!
"I have experienced insult, Mr Burke - the most vulgar of proposals mad
e openly in the street!"
"I am a little surprised at that, Miss Elizabeth. Did not other men come to your aid?"
"They did, in fact, Mr Burke - but I was very glad it was broad light of day. In darkness then I would have been much afraid. So much so that I have considered the purchase of a pistol, sir!"
"Do not consider it, ma'am. Do it. May I escort you to a store where you can make the purchase immediately?"
A little persuasion and he led her down the street to a dry goods store where he examined their selection of pocket and bag pistols.
"Better to use a metallic cartridge, ma'am - far easier of loading. So, not a Colt pistol - they have not the patent, one understands. A small Derringer type is best - double barrelled, large calibre but short. To be used only at very close range - best to be touching your target with such a weapon for they have no accuracy - but you are not seeking battle, after all! For protection they are of the best, being very noisy and attracting attention. Best kept in a pocket, ma'am. I would suggest that you purchase a pair - one for the coat or dress pocket, the other for your bag. Always check them to be loaded before you go outdoors, Miss Elizabeth, and never venture outside except you know you are carrying them - day or night."
"Do you truly believe Washington to be so desperate a city, Captain Burke?"
"I do not know, Miss Elizabeth, but all I have read of cities in wartime suggests them to be the most unpleasant of places. When the armies are near then all propriety is often forgotten. For young women especially, the proximity of the battlefield is undesirable; according to the commentaries I have read, the soldier is a stranger to the law and to common humanity."
She had thought their cause to be just and its followers all to be the noblest of men, was not entirely convinced he was right. She made the purchase and watched as he loaded and unloaded them then performed the actions herself until he was content she was safer with them than without.
A Victorian Gent (The Making of a Man Series, Book 1) Page 11