by Marian Wells
The following morning General Grant was advised by telegraph of Lincoln’s victory. News quickly spread through the entrenchments and the hospital tents. Olivia watched the excited men discussing the election. “Too bad we can’t have election every day,” she declared. “Not a one of you has complained about his wounds.”
A curly-haired youth with mischievous eyes said, “They’re still there.” She tousled his hair.
When the next supply train arrived, the newspapers stated that General Sherman had left Atlanta and was sweeping toward Savannah. “He’s spreading a broad path of destruction as he goes,” Crystal commented. “Everything is being destroyed—homes, railroads, food supplies.”
Alex came into camp the following day. Olivia handed him the newspapers she had saved.
After the men were fed and settled for the evening, Alex followed Olivia to their tent. She looked at him and said, “My tired, dirty husband. I’m going to beg the cook for some hot water, and then you can scrub.”
When she returned, Alex was asleep. By the light of the lantern, she studied his thin, care-worn face and sighed. He sat up. “That sigh was like a rifle shot.”
“Sorry. I was looking at your face.”
“Is it that bad?”
“You need to rest away from battle.” She found a towel for him. “Alex, is Grant going to stay holed up all winter?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Certainly we can’t breach the fortifications Lee’s thrown up. We’re not too uncomfortable. Considering the circumstances, it beats running all over the country. I wish you could see the trenches. We learned much from observing Lee.”
“Isn’t a trench just a groove cut in the ground?”
“No. We tunnel around like moles, only our burrow doesn’t have a top on it. It makes a nice way to get around the territory without having your head shot off.”
“Is Petersburg important to the Confederates?”
“Very. Fortunately for us, Richmond doesn’t have food to feed their soldiers during a siege; their stores are at Petersburg. But they only have enough for about thirteen days; they need access to the trains. Unfortunately for us Yankee newcomers, Richmond has had two years to build works around the city, and they are deeply dug in.
“Richmond is the hub of the railway coming in from the agricultural areas in the other states. Since Virginia doesn’t produce much food, that’s very important. If—when we cut the three rail lines, they’ll have to surrender.”
“Destroying railroads doesn’t sound too difficult. You’ve destroyed train track in the past.”
“Not like this. Richmond and Petersburg are surrounded with the same dense forest they have in the wilderness. We can’t get close to Richmond, so we’ll concentrate on the lines south. The Confederates have the easy job. It’s easier to guard the rails than to tear them up.”
He nuzzled her neck and murmured, “But I think we’re about to call it quits for the winter. That means we’ll be free to come behind lines more often. It’d be nice if we could close up shop, just lock the door on the whole business for the winter.” Alex reached for her. “Now, no more war talk. Do you have the Bible here? Will you read to me?”
“Only if you promise to stay awake.” She sat beside him and opened the Bible. “‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge…’” She saw he was asleep.
****
“Duncan, Warren is taking his men out to tear up some track. They can use a few extra men. Round up a detachment from your regiment, draw your rations, and report to Warren.”
When Alex and his men reached the road, Warren was briefing his men. “The Weldon Railroad has been destroyed only for a short way. The Confederates are still making use of it. They obtain supplies from the blockade runners at Wilmington, and carry them by train to within a few miles of Richmond. From there freight wagons pack the goods on in. We’ll line the track in battle formation. Each man will be responsible for tearing up the track in front of him. When that section is destroyed, the division will move to the left and continue. Let’s go.”
After arriving at the tracks, Warren walked the line, watching the men rip up the rails, heat them in bonfires, and twist them around tree trunks. “Fellas, you’re doing fine. We’ll have destroyed twenty miles of track by day’s end. I—” The general wheeled around as he heard a rifle.
“Men, give it to them!”
Around the curve of tracks Alex saw the Confederate battle flag, the gray uniforms. He lifted his musket and charged. Within minutes they were into the trees, and both armies became obscure shadows in the darkness. Alex faltered, fearful of hitting his own men.
A shot seemed to explode in his ear. Tree branches lashed his face. When he moved and opened his eyes only the quietness of the forest surrounded him. His leg was beginning to throb. Slowly he sat up. From the thigh down, his uniform was soaked with blood. A dark pool of it spread in the spongy soil.
Fighting the blackness that seemed to be moving across his vision, he began shredding his coat into strips. Father, help me! I can’t manage. With shaking hands he tied the strips around his leg above the gushing red. He hesitated, pulled the fragments of his trousers over the wound and tied the final piece over it all. Slowly he moved backward to a level spot and lay flat on the mossy ground. Above him the trees moved and dipped. He closed his eyes.
“Help, somebody, help me!” Alex turned his head and listened. The cry came again, faint now. He sat up and looked at his leg. The bleeding was a slow seepage. “Help!”
Taking a deep breath, Alex began to ease himself over the ground toward the voice still calling feebly. At last he saw a figure on the ground. Perspiring and trembling, he stopped. The man’s torso was covered with blood; his shoulder, encased in shredded gray, seemed shattered. “Hey, buddy, I’m here. Guess we’re both in about the same condition.”
“Water?”
“I don’t know of any around here. I could use some, too. Maybe I can look around.”
“Don’t leave me. I—I’m dying. Please Yank, don’t leave me here by myself. It’s too late for help. Seems dark, but don’t leave me to die by myself.”
Cautiously Alex stretched out beside the man. The ground began to seem warm and comforting, and he wondered if he were dying, too.
The man spoke. Alex turned his head; he could see the man’s eyes were wide and dark. “Charles Temps, from Macon.” He licked his lips. “Could be we die before we learn to live, huh?”
“Seems that way. I’m Alex Duncan.”
“Do you mind dying now?”
“I don’t think I’m that badly hurt. I tied part of my coat around the wound.” He sat up and loosened the rags. The bleeding increased, and he replaced the primitive tourniquet.
Alex glanced at his companion, silent now, pale. The lad swallowed, licked his lips. “Took a shot right through the middle. Makes you wonder if war’s worth dying for. Ever hear that song about the Bonnie Blue Flag? It’s funny, they come around singing, and it makes fighting sound like the thing to do.”
The lad’s eyes closed. Suddenly he looked around. “Are you here?”
“I’m here.”
“Back then I didn’t think about dying. Did I die for the right cause?”
“Seems now’s not the time to ask. Back then what did you think?”
“It’s easy to enlist, then we’re caught. Now that I must die for the cause, it’s too late to back out. If I had it to do over again, I’d—”
“Boy, we all make mistakes. Do you hear?” The lad closed his eyes and then opened them. Alex said, “Now’s not the time to chew them over. But dying isn’t the end of it all.”
“How d’you know?”
“God’s Word, the Bible. His Son, Jesus Christ, died for your sins because He loved you.”
“I know. I heard General Lee saying all that to us soldiers. About how knowing God was most important, even more than loyalty to country.
But that comes second.”
“Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?”
“Yes. Sometimes I don’t spend much time thinking about it, but now I guess it’s the time to think. Soldier, do you think I’m going to heaven?”
“If you’ve asked Jesus to forgive your sins, and you believe He has, well then you’re part of the kingdom of God.” The lad’s face relaxed. In a few minutes his breathing stopped. For a time Alex watched, aware of the quietness around him, the creeping dampness of the forest chilling him.
When the evening mists moved through the trees, Alex sat up. He measured the strength of his good leg and saw the dry branch just beyond his hand. “Better get at it, man.”
Using the stick as a crutch, he moved slowly through the forest toward the spot of light. Occasionally he stopped to check the bleeding, to ease the tightness of the crude bandage. The moon was rising like a milky splash of light behind the fog. He followed the road, wondering how long he could walk without breaking the wound open, and how long he could lie on the ground without freezing. He was still pondering when he heard the jingle of harness, the creak of wheels. Looking up, he was relieved to see an ambulance.
“Well, soldier, come along. Are there others in there?”
“I don’t know. I heard only one, and he died while I was there.” There was a firm hand under his arm, hay in the bottom of the ambulance, and a warm blanket to cover him.
Chapter 50
Olivia was in front of the hospital tent when the ambulance arrived. “A battle? I didn’t know anything was happening.”
“Naw. A detachment out doing damage to the Rebels’ railroad. We need a stretcher for this one; he’s lost a lot of blood, leg injury.”
As they lifted the soldier out, she gasped and threw herself at the stretcher. “Alex!” He opened his eyes. “Oh, thank God, he’s alive. Please hurry. What is it?”
“My leg. Olivia, my dear—” he murmured. She took the hand he tried to lift. Running to keep up with the stretcher, she helped lift him onto the surgery table and hung over Dr. Jason. As he cut away the cloth, he said, “Looks to be just a flesh wound. Ugly, but the bleeding has stopped. We’ll get him into bed and keep him flat.”
“Are you certain there isn’t shattered bone?”
He smiled. “I’m certain. My dear Mrs. Duncan, I do believe you’ll be more trouble than your husband.”
Alex turned his head, smiled weakly and asked, “What, dear Olivia, have you done?”
“I’m pregnant.” He struggled to sit up. “Lie down,” she murmured. “I can handle this, and I do believe it will be nice to have you where I can keep my eyes on you.”
The male nurses lifted Alex to a cot on the sunny side of the tent. They removed the tatters of his uniform and Olivia came with a basin of hot water. “I’ll bathe him; he’s my husband.”
Crooning over the abrasion on his face, she pressed her cheek against his. One of the nurses returned with a hospital gown. With a wry smile he said, “Better watch it, or we’ll have to import all these fellows’ wives.”
Olivia looked up. “Oh, I had forgotten; were there more patients?”
“Yes, but they’ve been taken in to Dr. Jason and he said we shouldn’t bother you. I think he’s spoiling you. Call us if he needs to be lifted.”
Alex appeared to be asleep. Working quickly, she finished bathing him and covered him. He opened his eyes and grinned. “I’ll expect this treatment all the time.”
“Want some soup?” He nodded. When she sat down with the bowl and picked up the spoon, she saw his puzzled frown. “What is it?”
“Things are pretty fuzzy. Did I hear you say something special?”
“You did. Alex, I’m certain we’re going to have a baby. But don’t worry,” she whispered. “Even Dr. Jason thinks that we’ll do just fine.” When she brought the spoon to his mouth, he swallowed the soup, took her hand, and kissed it.
“Want to hear something else? Crystal is also going to have a baby. When I told her about ours, she confessed being fearful of telling her good news because of how I would feel.”
“So now I’ll be a father and an uncle.” He chuckled weakly while his eyes warmed her. “Wish I could congratulate Matthew; I haven’t seen him for over a month.”
“He was in camp just a week ago. He was concerned about you, because it had been so long since he’d seen you. I’d think since you’re neighbors in those trenches, you’d be waving to each other occasionally,” she said. “He told us they are continuing to hold the Confederates in Petersburg and Richmond with artillery fire, but material and supplies are still coming in to them.”
“I know; we were out tearing up railroad line when skirmishers got us.” He rubbed her hand gently. “Nearly as rough as it was from washing dishes on the Golden Awl.”
“Oh, Alex,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry you were hurt, but it’s such a relief to have you here.”
Crystal came rushing through the tent, “Olivia—Alex! They told me you were here. What happened? You look a little pale.”
He grinned. “Is this the way mommies always act?”
She glanced at Olivia. “I think he’ll recover.”
****
Later that week, Olivia began to see the symptoms she had dreaded. The jagged furrow cutting into the muscles on Alex’s leg had begun festering and his temperature climbed.
Dr. Jason looked grave. “There’s not much to be done, except to encourage the drainage and keep him resting.”
“And pray,” she added soberly. With a nod, he moved on to the next bed.
By the end of the week, when Matthew came, Olivia was beginning to see improvement. Matthew frowned as he looked toward the cot. “Infection?” She nodded, watching Alex’s face brighten as Matthew stepped up to the bed. “Am I going to have to rescue you from this place?”
“Matt, am I glad to see you!” Alex clasped his hand, adding, “It won’t be necessary; I’m better, and I expect to be back in the trenches in a couple of weeks.”
“Better hurry, or you’ll miss the war.” Matthew settled back and crossed his legs. “Things are starting to look good. Sherman took Savannah in December. The nervy guy broke all lines of communication and cut himself off from both supply and help. I hear General Grant’s been pretty concerned about him.”
“How did he feed his army?”
“Lived off the land. There’s no doubt about it—people are scattering like leaves in the wind. They said the mayor of Atlanta protested when Sherman shooed all the residents out of the city before he leveled it. Sherman told the mayor war was hell and there wasn’t any way to refine it. And the sooner the people accepted it, the better it would be for them.”
“I’m sorry for the people,” Alex muttered, “but I admire the general’s grit. The Army of the Potomac would probably have done much better if we hadn’t let the South intimidate us. From the way we’ve reacted most of the time, you’d think we were the ones in the wrong.”
Matthew nodded. “Is it lack of confidence or lack of conviction? There’s been enough opposition in the North to sway us either direction.”
In a moment Alex asked, “You in just for the day?”
“No. The commanders have been good about letting us break out of the trenches on a regular basis. I guess it’s about the only way we’ll hold up under this.” He paused. “Those poor fellows in Petersburg and Richmond. I heard a report that Richmond’s been out of meat for some time. The last of it was issued to Lee’s army. The Southern economy is ruined. Most of their rail lines have been destroyed. Some supplies are coming through the blockade. I suppose that’ll be Grant’s next target.”
“I’ve been reading all the old newspapers,” Alex said, rubbing his forehead wearily. He looked at Matthew. “At least I believe I’ve learned why the South’s been so doggedly determined to win the war. In an address just before the ’64 campaign began, General Lee stated that if the South was victorious in this war, they would have everything to hope for in the
future, but if they were defeated, there would be nothing left to live for.”
Matthew shook his head sadly. “I’ve heard they fight like madmen. Maybe that’s the reason.”
“I wish they’d quit stalling and get this over,” Matthew added. “I’d like to get home before this baby comes.”
“Olivia told me,” Alex said. “We’re happy for you. By home, do you mean Pennsylvania?”
Matthew nodded. “Where else? I don’t expect to be welcome in the South. This war has changed us all forever. I’m concerned for our parents, but—” Alex was asleep, so Matthew left.
Olivia and Crystal were working together in the next tent. Matthew approached them. “I have a gift for each of you ladies. Hold out your hands.” He dropped a coin in each hand.
Olivia turned the bronze coin. “A bright, shiny two-cent piece!”
“Read the inscription,” he urged. “It’s the first coin to bear it.”
Crystal read, “United States of America, In God We Trust.”
Olivia clenched her coin. “In God We Trust,” she repeated slowly. “This is just what I need. Thank you, Matt.”
****
It was dark when she started back to the tent where Alex lay. Shivering in the January wind, she hurried inside. He was awake, and his forehead seemed cool. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving. Had a good chat with Matt.”
“He gave me a gift; I’ll share it with you.” She dropped the coin in his hand and went to the kitchen. After she distributed the meals to the other patients, she carried Alex’s food to him.
He still held the coin and was smiling. “Olivia, I’m going to save this coin for our grandchildren. I’ll tell them how it became a bright promise in the final days of the Civil War, just before the Union victory.”
She brushed the tears from her eyes and bent over to kiss him. “Alex, I love you. May you have many children and grandchildren to share the story of the coin with.”
Within a few days Alex was out of bed, testing his wounded leg gingerly as he hobbled around the tent on crutches.
Matthew came in, dropped several newspapers on Alex’s bed and said, “I’m returning to the trenches, but I thought you’d like these papers. The December one has lines from Lincoln’s address to Congress. Read it all; he says the resolve of the people to maintain the integrity of the Union has never been more firm. He goes on to talk about how we’re doing. He says production is up in every area, and that we’re better off financially than before the war. Encouraging, isn’t it?”