He abruptly broke off, sniffing the air with a grimace of disgust. “What in God’s name is that horrid smell?”
“This could be worse,” I muttered, trying to look on the bright side.
Toby paused in his latrine digging duties to glare at me. “And just how could this be worse? For the next three months we have to get up an hour early to dig trenches for thousands of men to deposit their—”
“I know, it’s pretty bad—”
“Bad? This is beyond bad, and it’s going to get worse! Can you imagine the odors when the temperatures get hot? I have trouble just using it, let alone digging in it!”
“But see, our punishment will be done before the summer heat. Captain Truckey really is looking out for us.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to remember to thank him next time we see him.” Toby paused, recollecting last night’s scene. His irritation at the result fought with his amusement of the memory. The irritation quickly lost out and a grin broke across his face. “Did you see the look on his face when he opened the trunk?”
I smirked as I stomped the shovel’s blade into the frozen earth. “I did feel a bit sorry for the guy. Imagine, returning home, weary from a long journey and finding that in your trunk. I’ll probably never stop feeling just a little guilty.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much; I caught him shaking his head and chuckling as we left.”
“He was laughing?”
Toby nodded. “Captain Truckey is okay. Though I don’t think we’d have gotten off so easy if you hadn’t been friends with his daughter.”
“Now you’re calling this easy? How about you dig for a while and I’ll hold the lantern.”
Toby took the shovel from me and made a bit of progress while I stretched my back.
“Besides, Emma didn’t have anything to do with it. The captain is just a decent fellow, otherwise, we’d have probably been kicked out or thrown in the stockade or something. And then how would I ever find my brother.” Though, so far I haven’t made much progress anyway.
“Well, she sounds like a great girl anyway. Maybe I could meet her sometime.”
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “She’s practically engaged, you know. She’s head over heels for a guy named Alex Shanley. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Toby tossed a shovelful of dirt into the old latrine and then glanced over at me. “Take it easy! Don’t get so defensive; you sound jealous or something. I thought you and she were just friends, distant cousins or something.”
“Of course we’re just friends,” I snapped at him. “I’m just concerned about you getting your heart stomped is all. Emma is taken so you might as well look elsewhere.”
“Well, if you insist I start looking, there is Nurse Davis. I don’t think she has a beau…”
I glared at him before snatching the shovel out of his hands. “Cora could have any fellow she wants; why would she ever look twice at you?”
“Aren’t you full of spit this morning? I think your lack of sleep is turning you into a grump—”
“Okay,” I threw down my shovel and turned to face Toby with fists raised.
“Well, look-see over there, fellows.”
Toby and I turned to find Jimmy, Kevin and another guy coming towards us.
“What do you want now, Jimmy?” I growled. My mood seemed to be growing blacker as the sun peaked her rays over the horizon.
“Just how in the blazes did you two get stuck with latrine duty?” Jimmy asked, feigning confusion.
“Drop the act; you know we got caught fulfilling your lost bet.” Toby took a step forward, standing slightly ahead of me.
“Hmm, as I recall, a hand of four aces make it your lost bet. So then, you went and got yourselves caught.”
“Obviously,” I snapped, retrieving the tossed shovel, just in case.
“That’s too bad. I’m surprised you didn’t get kicked out of the army.”
“Yeah, you would have loved that, wouldn’t you.”
“Not necessarily. A fellow never knows when he might need another diversion performed…”
Toby narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What are you saying, Jimmy? Was all of this a cover for something else?”
Jimmy shook his head in artificial sympathy. “Toby, so suspicious of you. Though I guess a southerner always has to watch his back while surrounded by blue boys—”
“Toby is a blue boy, in heart and blood!” I broke in vehemently. “He can’t help being born in the south!”
Jimmy held up his hands in mock surrender to ward off an attack. “You got quite a guard dog there, Toby. Very loyal. Maybe it’s a good thing Captain Truckey arrived back early to catch you both. Looks like you southern sympathizers need a close eye kept on you.”
“Don’t you dare question our patriotism!” I raised the shovel up for attack and started toward him.
Toby grabbed my arm to hold me back as he raised a suspicious brow toward Jimmy. “How did you know the captain caught us?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Just a guess, you being in his cabin and all.”
“But you said yourself that he wasn’t due back ‘til late this morning; how did you know he came back early? You set us up, didn’t you, Jimmy?”
“You’re crazy, Rivers; both of you are completely crazy. I just saw the captain a second ago, that’s how I knew he came back early. Come on,” he motioned to his gang. “Let’s get out of here before the loonies lose it completely.” They left the way they’d come, their shadows following closely behind.
Toby’s hand didn’t release its firm grip until Jimmy moved out of sight. I jerked my arm free. “Why didn’t you let me go at ‘em?” I grumbled.
“Because, one, they outnumbered us. And two, that Jimmy is a dangerous fellow and I don’t trust him at all.”
“You really think he set us up? But why?”
“Don’t know.” Toby picked up the lantern and blew out the flame as the rising sun filled the valley with morning light.
“Think it has anything to do with the sutler’s thefts?”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t put much of anything past Jimmy and his gang, especially stealing alcohol.”
“And with alcohol as one of their targets, they’ll probably end up doing something stupid to get themselves caught sooner or later,” I added bitterly.
Toby glanced over at me with an eyebrow raised. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Don’t tell me you’re a recovering closet boozer,” he joked.
“Hell, no!” I spat back at him. “It’s vile garbage.”
“But you know someone who does,” Toby surmised. “And since I never hear you utter a word about your mother or father, I’m guessing one of them drowns in the stuff.”
“Ma never, ever touched that poison! She was one of the prettiest, kindest, most unselfish people to ever set foot on this earth!” Just the thought of her doused me with waves of lost love and time forever gone.
Toby never flinched at my outburst, instead leaning against the shovel and giving me his full attention. “’She was’? So she died.”
“She didn’t just die, he killed her!” Tears pooled in my eyes and I spun around so he wouldn’t see. My breath ragged in my chest, I had trouble getting enough air. I hadn’t meant to offer Toby so much information; I’d let my guard slip in anger, and now I couldn’t take it back. I struggled to even out my breathing and clear the tears from my eyes.
“’He’ being your father. And I’m guessing he has the reputation for being a boozer.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I growled over my shoulder.
“Did he ever lay a hand on you?” he asked quietly.
I spun around and grabbed the shovel out from under him. “I don’t want to talk about it!” I can’t trust you! I won’t trust you!
Thankfully, the bugle’s harsh shout echoed through the camp just then. Without another word, I picked up the lantern and stormed back for roll call. I didn’t care if Toby followed or not; I’d share
d too much, let down my guard and allowed him to get too close.
The rest of our time in winter camp passed relatively slowly with the boring mundaneness of a daily routine. With latrine digging added to our daily chores, I usually fell into my bunk each night exhausted. But it did help the time pass. Unfortunately, Jimmy and his gang knew exactly where Toby and I would be every morning, and one or more of them rarely missed an opportunity to taunt and jeer at us. Interspersed with my irritation of their daily visits, I speculated at the total lack of purpose in their lives to be so dedicated to my and Toby’s misery. I admired Toby’s ability to laugh it off for the most part. He turned it into a game, plotting up his own better and more clever insults to throw back at them. I tried to follow his lead and at least try to get a laugh out of it.
It did feel good to share a chuckle with Toby again. The first few days following my outburst, I tried to avoid Toby as much as possible, though since we shared a cabin, latrine duty, drill practice and a cooking fire, I didn’t have much luck. However, I did manage to avoid conversation for about a week. Poor Woody worried himself into a lather over our tiff, as he called it. He badgered us day and night to make up and be friends again. Kenny told him to let us be, that we’d work it out in our own time. Preacher took a different approach and cornered Toby and me in the cabin, barred any escape and lectured us on the importance of friendship and forgiveness. That actually helped, though not in the way Preacher intended. After an agonizing hour of listening to him drone on, Toby and I took one look at each other, and instantly became a team once again. In unspoken agreement, Toby rushed Preacher, grabbing him in a bear hold, pinning his arms behind his back. I grabbed Woody’s leather belt hanging on the wall and wrapped it securely around Preacher’s wrists. Then I pulled my handkerchief, mostly clean, from my back pocket, binding and gagging his incessant words in his throat. Toby hoisted the struggling Preacher over his shoulder while I talked Woody into letting us out with a promise to again be friends forever. As Woody released us from the cabin, Toby dumped Preacher in a heap at Kenny’s feet and together we walked out of camp. Neither of us spoke of our argument. It took a few days to ease back into our comfortable coexistence, though I swore to myself to never let my guard slip again.
In March, we broke camp and once again became an army on the move. We loaded up our belongings, including three days’ rations and forty rounds of ammunition, stuffing everything into our packs. Having to carry our lives on our backs forced almost everyone to ditch at least a few possessions. The night before our scheduled departure, camp became ablaze with bonfires fueled with our homemade furniture. We kept the melancholy of ditching these comforting possessions at bay with robust music. Men pulled out their harmonicas and fiddles, and almost everyone joined in singing songs from childhood, church and country. Most of us stayed up way too late, and then had to cantankerously drag ourselves out of our bunks the next morning, the situation made more painful for the fact we’d be sleeping on the cold, hard ground for the coming months.
For the first few days, soldiers tossed even more castoffs along the roadside to lighten their loads. Winter overcoats and blankets, tattered shirts and dirty woolen under britches, raggedy socks and extra decks of cards littered the miles we traveled. My aching legs, back and feet protested every step of carrying my heavy pack, but I knew I’d soon get used to the rigors of life on the road once again.
Despite some serious teasing, Kenny refused to dump the red silk scarf his lady pen pal had sent him. He not only wouldn’t toss it, but he wouldn’t even untie it from around his neck. The bright scarlet had dimmed somewhat due to grime and sweat, but Kenny wore it like a badge of honor. And we teased him unmercifully.
We headed north to Maryland where we picked up some new recruits. Recently, the government had started offering enlistment bonuses to entice more men to join the ranks. This, of course, created an opportunity for those folk with less than honest intentions. ‘Bounty-jumpers’ joined up for the bonus money and then deserted the first chance available. We wagered among ourselves over which of the new recruits would ditch; I got out of many nighttime guard duties by pinpointing which fellows would run. When Woody asked me how I guessed so well, I told him I rarely gave anyone the benefit of the doubt. Then I caught Toby studying me strangely again.
We veterans also had a blast giving the new recruits a hard time. One would think I’d learned my lesson with practical jokes after the incident with Captain Truckey, but the newbies presented just too good of a target. Besides, it helped them feel part of the group, and we never took it too far. A favorite of ours needed to be carried out right away, when the new guy showed up with his recently acquired uniform and rations. One of us would ask him if he’d received his umbrella. The recruit answered no, of course, and so we’d encourage him to return to the quartermaster and demand to receive his umbrella. Too funny. Usually the recruit would eventually join in on the laughter at his expense, but not always. It helped to choose one’s victims wisely, not to pick a fellow who’d as likely come back and slit your throat in retaliation. Another good joke had to be misinforming a new recruit of the bugle calls, telling him that the roll call song meant a Rebel attack. Then, just before dawn, we’d borrow his boots and trousers, and watch as he ran from his tent in his under britches. Of course, after the first time, we learned the important safety tip of taking his rifle from him as well.
I finally heard some word of my brother! That boosted my spirits tremendously. In addition to the new recruits, we had also picked up two companies of sharpshooters. Robert belonged to a sharpshooter group. As soon as I heard, Toby and I made our way over to their camp and talked to each and every one. Two of them had served with Robert in the Battle of Gettysburg. They remembered him well, ‘an excellent marksman and a great guy’, they said. But he disappeared during the battle and they’d assumed he’d been killed. That part didn’t drop my spirits at all as I knew otherwise. And I felt reassured that someone, anyone acknowledged to serving with Robert; at least Toby and the rest of the guys would know I hadn’t fallen completely off the rocking chair.
Also in Maryland, we got assigned to the Army of the Potomac under General George G. Meade, and learned that President Lincoln had put General Ulysses S. Grant in charge of all of the northern armies. I had heard good things about both generals, and hoped their decisions would help end this war as soon as possible.
In April, we received our Corp badges. I liked the design, a cloth badge with a shield hosting an anchor, cannon and a number nine, for the Ninth Corp. We wore our blue badge (blue for the third division; the first had red and second had white), on our caps. Supposedly, these labels helped Captain Truckey and the other officers recognize us on the battlefield, though I had doubts to their effectiveness, being only two inches wide.
After that, our brief vacation from fighting ended. We marched into Virginia to meet General Lee’s troops for the Battle of the Wilderness.
The Battle of the Wilderness began on May 4th; however our division had orders to stand ready and wait.
“This waiting around stuff really stinks,” Kenny grumbled as he paced back and forth. “I’d rather be out there in the middle of it instead of just sitting here listening to it all.”
Over the dancing sounds of the springtime-swollen Rapidan River, we could hear the thunder of a thousand troops moving in for battle. Cannons boomed and rifles popped; now and then a faint, agony-filled cry of a dying man reached our ears.
“All in good time,” Preacher soothed without lifting his eyes from his Bible.
I had to agree with Kenny; the waiting proved hard, though marching into battle didn’t pose a picnic either. I couldn’t help bouncing my knee with nerves. I rechecked my rifle for the fifth time, and my Colt for the tenth.
“I think your weapons have to be the cleanest, most well loaded ones in the Army of the Potomac,” Toby teased.
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” I retorted. “Besides, it helps to keep busy.”
&n
bsp; “I could read aloud, if anybody would like,” Preacher offered.
“That’d be nice,” Woody finally spoke. The green tint in his face and his hard-clamped jaw eased slightly at the distraction.
The orders to move out finally arrived on the morning of the fifth. The 27th infantry lined up behind Captain Truckey to cross the Rapidan River. The yellow and blue wildflowers cheerfully welcomed the morning sunshine along the grassy bank, dotting our path into battle.
As we marched into position, Toby bumped my shoulder and offered a half smile. “You have direct orders to stay alive and unharmed. Do you understand, Private?”
I saluted him. “Yes, sir, completely, sir. And same to you.”
We stepped onto the pontoon bridge crossing the Germanna Ford. The bridge bucked and swayed with the weight of the army, and keeping my balance became my main focus at that moment.
High-pitched squeals erupted behind us and I jerked around to see a panicked horse rearing at the foot of the bridge. The massive draft horse came down heavy on all fours, near the right edge of the floating bridge. The boards beneath our feet groaned and shifted, dipping towards the river’s cold waters. All forms of balance disappeared, and with arms flailing and boots scraping up splinters, I slid towards the river. Just as my right foot toppled the edge and splashed into the water, Toby managed to grab my pack’s strap, abruptly halting my skid. The bridge crashed back flat as the cavalry officer guided his wide-eyed horse back to firm ground, eventually calming him and regaining some control. Troops on shore quickly threw ropes to the men who had tumbled in and now floated downstream in the fast current. A few tossed troops had managed to hang onto the side of the bridge, and those still standing on top bent down to haul them back up to the wooden planks. Sopping wet, dripping puddles around their feet, the soldiers looked miserably cold and uncomfortable. The officers ordered them back to shore to dry off and rejoin their infantry as soon as possible. Thanks to Toby’s quick reflexes, I only suffered a soggy foot and quickly squelched my way over the remainder of the bridge. The cavalry officer opted tying a blindfold around his novice horse’s eyes and then slowly and carefully encouraged him blindly across the bridge.
Echoes of Dark and Light Page 17