by T. Novan
"Well, Richard, how do you think we are doing? What things have to be tended to most urgently? Will we be in trouble for the winter?"
"Well, we need to get the ditches finished, and we need to get the wood in place to half timber the tents. We have started getting the infirmary in real shape. Samuelson and Whitman have been busting the chops of every man assigned to do it right ‘‘the way Dr. Walker wants’".
"What about supplies? Have we taken the steps needed to keep it dry? And has anyone checked on it?"
"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir. Of course, we have, Charlie. You know me better than that."
"I am sorry, Richard. I think being down sick has gotten to me more than I expected. I feel like I am being a mother hen and my chicks have all run away."
Richard laughed at that. Charlie as a mother hen was a hard image for him to conjure up. "More like a stallion keeping his herd in line, I would say."
"So, fill me in on Project Boot."
"Mr. Cooper has a search out to find leather, and I have found about seven men in the troops with at least some leatherworking skill; including one boot maker and an assortment of men with experience in patching saddles, harnesses, leather furniture and other types of leather tools. We will get by. I also sent another scathing letter to the Quartermaster General’s office about their buying practices."
"Well, ‘‘tis what we can do for now. Have we done an inventory to figure out which men need boots most urgently?"
"I expect to get that back from the individual companies today or tomorrow."
"Fine. Well, off with you, my friend. We both have full plates today. I have to write my report to Sheridan, and then I will come out and do the rounds."
--*--
Rebecca was laughing as Sarah told her how Mrs. Williams had come into the mercantile while they were being fitted for their clothes. The cook managed to do a fairly reasonable imitation of the snooty woman that simply had Rebecca in hysterics.
"I know it is not right to feel that way, Mrs. Gaines, but she is not a very charitable woman for a minister’s wife."
"Sarah, you need not apologize to me. I have had my fill of Mrs. Williams. She was less than charitable in her attitude toward the good Colonel Redmond the other day."
"The Colonel? Why? He is a very kind gentleman."
Rebecca did not even try to hide the smile on her face, "I know." She looked down at the soft blue cloth in her hand, which was slowly taking shape into a new shirt. It made her feel good to be doing this. Charlie had given her so many new things she hoped the new shirt would be a small token of her gratitude. She was taking special care with a seam when Beulah entered the kitchen.
"Mrs. Gaines?"
"Yes?"
"There are a group of ladies from town here to see you. I have shown them to the front parlor."
"Oh Lord!" Rebecca placed her sewing in the basket and stood, straightening her dress. "I am sure they are here to see what gossip they can collect." She sighed. "Sarah, will you please prepare a tea tray for my," she paused, nearly choking on the word, "guests."
"Of course, Ma’am. It will be ready jiffy quick."
With that, Rebecca headed for the lion’s den, wishing that Daniel were home.
--*--
Charlie walked into the area that Company D had staked out as its own. The men were working away at digging ditch works around their encampment to handle run off in the event of another storm. Others had started the process of cutting corner poles to timber the tents. When the planking became available, they would construct rough cabins inside the walls of the tents, and pack straw, hay, or some other insulation between the boards and the canvas. The canvas would repel water, the boards would stabilize the structure against wind, and help keep them a little warmer than the outside. Berms around each tent served to seal the bottom edge of the tent and keep the wind out, as well as diverting water around the tent and into the drainage ditches.
The men were busy, focused on getting the job done, and only slowly did they realize that their commanding officer was with them. A ragged salute worked its way slowly through the encampment.
Charlie waved them into a small group around him, and pulled an empty barrel over to sit on. He looked around the faces surrounding him. Some he knew from old days, some were new to him, men of the original Pennsylvania muster. Some faces were welcoming, some were shuttered and neutral, and a few –– thank God only a few –– were outright hostile. His work was cut out for him.
"Gentlemen. I want to report to you that Dr. Walker performed surgery on Major Montgomery to relieve the pressure on his brain. While it is too soon to be sure, as head injuries are very dangerous, she feels that he has at least a reasonable chance of recovering completely. I for one am very concerned about Major Monty and very relieved that we had the good fortune to have such a fine surgeon available to help care for him."
A murmur, some of it relieved, some of it muttering things like, "served him right,", went around the group of men. That the, ‘‘served him right,’ comments were coming from fellow Pennsylvanians was enlightening to Charlie.
"Men, for a moment, let us forget rank. Major Monty has a problem. We all know it. I do not think he was quite right after the Wilderness." Nods of agreement went around the circle. "I have seen this kind of thing before, and it is hard to handle. Hard for the men who suffer from it and hard for their friends, too. Monty was a good soldier and a good officer. The pain and guilt of losing so many of his men, I think, overwhelmed him. Tell me, did he ever talk about it with any of you?"
One gnarled old sergeant spoke up, "Monty was my boss back home, Colonel. He used to get together with us boys pretty much regular, but after that battle, all he did was sit in his tent and brood, usually with the help of the ol’ jack. I swear, that man could drink stuff that would rot your guts out and then get up the next morning and ride hell for leather all day."
Another one took up the story, "Yes, he would, but damn, he treated his horses like they were invulnerable. He had been the best horseman in Bucks County before the war –– horses just loved that man, but lately, he has been driving them to do things that horses are not meant to do. I do not blame that horse for kicking him. I have been wanting to do the same myself sometimes."
"Gentlemen, I believe your Major had something break inside his soul after the Wilderness. It is going to take all of us for him to see that he is not to blame –– that no individual is to blame –– for what happened. And to see that the civilians we are dealing with today are not the men you faced in battle. The men who served with me at Vicksburg know what I am talking about. Talk about it among yourself, and come to me or Colonel Polk if you have any questions."
Charlie looked around the circle of men, catching the eye of specific men who had served with him on the western front. Small nods of agreement and support came from them. He knew he had their support.
"Now, Gentlemen. For the time being, I am not going to name a new commander for this Company. You have a commander, Major Montgomery. Major Swallow will continue to act as your temporary commander, in addition to his own company, with support from Colonel Polk. We will worry about a new permanent commander for Company D if, and only if, Dr. Walker feels that Major Montgomery is not going to be capable of resuming command for the spring campaign. If you need anything, or just need to talk, you know that I have an open door to any man in this regiment. Please feel free to come by my office. I am using the farm manager’s officer in the main house. The entrance is at the north west corner of the ground floor."
Charlie stood and straightened his coat. "By the way, gentlemen, we will be conducting a gymkhana this year before Christmas. The company that wins the most overall points will serve as color guard in the spring campaign and the individual trooper who wins the most overall points from the company will serve as the color bearer. I expect a good showing from Company D. Do your Major proud, men."
Charlie accepted the departing salute, then walked toward the infirmary. Well,
that went better than I expected. Loyal to a fault, those boys are, but they did see what was happening with Monty. Maybe my boys and the gymkhana, between them, will pull those troops together. I can hope. A small grin lit his face as he pulled the door open to the barn that had been converted to an infirmary. He went straight to the surgery, where Elizabeth and Samuelson were tending to Montgomery.
"How is he?" Charlie asked quietly.
Elizabeth looked up, a little startled. "Oh, I did not hear you come in. He is doing about as well as can be expected. His eyes are a little more reactive, and the swelling seems to be going down. That is all I can hope for right now."
"Well, I just talked to his troops. Seems they had seen changes in his behavior before this event, so even if he does survive, we have our work cut out for us. Battle shock, I would say, the raging kind, not the suicidal kind."
"Yes, I have been thinking on that. Samuelson filled me in. I would like to try something, with your permission."
"You know I support you in whatever you want, my dear doctor."
"I want to make sure that the only people who care for him when he comes conscious are people with southern accents. That is me, Samuelson, Rebecca, and any others I can find."
"I will put Polk on it to find any other men in the brigade with southern accents who can serve as medics. But I suspect he will be pretty abusive and uncooperative"
"That is the point. He had made all southerners into demons to be destroyed. I want to create a dissonance –– having people who are his caretakers be the very ones he hates. He will be torn, between gratitude for their care and his hatred. I am hoping that the dichotomy will give us the opening we need to really help him."
Whitman spoke from the corner. "I will help as well. You know, I have a way of listening and talking with people pretty effectively."
The others in the room could not help but laugh at Whitman’s comment. "Mr. Whitman, as long as you have been tagging along after me, you have had a way with words. It must be the poet in you, good sir."
Charlie stepped over to look into Montgomery’s face. His head was swathed in white bandages, his features at rest. This man could not be more than twenty-four or twenty-five, yet he had seen so much death and destruction that it had overwhelmed the lad with hatred. The cost of war was a man’s soul. Charlie shook his head.
"Come, Elizabeth, let us look in on the other men."
--*--
She paused just outside the door gathering herself for a fight. Opening the doors, she stepped inside and closed them behind her. "Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to my home." She looked at each woman in turn. Mrs. Cooper gave her a polite smile. Mrs. Williams once again appeared as if she had something unpleasant under her nose. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the next two ladies, Miss Katherine Reynolds and Miss Mary Simms. Both of them young and single, she knew why they had come and she did not like it one damn bit.
"Rebecca, we came to make sure you were indeed all right." Mrs. Cooper offered.
"But we can see that you are living well." Mrs. Williams all but sneered. "Your home is being refurbished and you have a house full of new servants……."
Rebecca raised her hand, interrupting her. "Colonel Redmond has his men helping with needed repairs to my home and I would hardly call a staff of four a houseful. Besides they are here for the Colonel’s comfort more than mine."
"Where is the Colonel?" Mary asked with a gleam in her eye.
"Charlie," Rebecca let all of her jealousy and possessiveness tumble out in just his name, "is out with his troops tending to his camp."
"Mrs. Williams was sure we would find him sitting before the fire sipping brandy and smoking a cigar," Katherine giggled.
Rebecca looked directly at Mrs. Williams, "Had you come a little after supper you may very well have. The Colonel does enjoy a cigar and he has impeccable taste in brandy."
"Rebecca, have you lost your senses? You act as if you have feelings for this man," Mrs. Williams countered.
"Do I?"
"You do. It is shameful."
"No it is not. But do you know what is? You, Mrs. Williams, your self-righteous condemnation of something you know nothing about. What gives you the right to come to my home and ––"
"Rebecca," Mrs. Cooper broke in and stopped the young woman’s tirade. "We are only concerned for your safety."
"You may very well be, Grace, and I appreciate that, but others are not so kind." She looked at each woman. "Colonel Redmond is a gentleman and he has graciously offered to help the community of Culpeper as much as possible. His chief physician, Doctor Walker, has offered to give of her services to our community."
--*--
Reg had come running hell bent for Charlie as soon as Beulah had told him of the unexpected "guests." He found Charlie and Elizabeth visiting with the men in the infirmary, Elizabeth to assess their condition and Charlie to bolster their morale. A quick word with Reg and Charlie knew that Rebecca was in trouble.
"Excuse me, Dr. Walker, may I have a private word with you?"
The two hurried to the end of the makeshift ward, "What is it, Charlie?"
"It seems that the local morals committee is paying us a visit. Can you join me to help give them a new perspective?"
"I will be there as quickly as I can. You go ahead."
--*--
Charlie hurried back to the house. Slipping up the back stairs, he stopped to pull on his day dress uniform, sword, sash and all. His "Daniel" costume, ready to enter the lions’ den. Slipping back downstairs, he circled around and entered by the front door. Hearing the murmurs, punctuated by Rebecca's voice raise in the deceptively low tones he knew as her version of anger, he straightened his tunic and entered the room.
Rebecca was ready to blow. She wondered briefly if Charlie’s men could put a new roof on the entire house. She was about to go off like a keg of gunpowder when Charlie entered the room
"Excuse me, Miss Rebecca. I did not mean to interrupt your tea, but I have a request from Dr. Walker." Charlie's Charleston accent was back with a vengeance.
"Charlie," she got up immediately nearly running to him. She took a deep breath and just let it happen. She put her arms around his neck and gave him quite the complete welcome home.
For a moment, Charlie was stunned. As she settled back into the arms that had risen to automatically embrace her, she looked up into his eyes. Charlie blinked at her like an owl, suddenly blinded by a bright light. A slow smile then played over his features. "Bonjour ma Chèère, çça va bien?"
"I have been better, Daniel," She whispered in his year. "I am very glad you are home." She pulled back just a bit without letting go of Charlie’s neck. "Come, my dear Colonel Redmond, let me introduce you."
Charlie let her slide down in his arms, until he could take her arm in a more traditional hold and allowed her to introduce him to the ladies in the room.
"Ladies, may I present Colonel Charles Redmond, originally of Charleston, South Carolina? Colonel, I am sure you remember Mrs. Cooper. This is Mrs. Williams, Reverend Williams’ wife. And Miss Reynolds and Miss Simms."
He first addressed Mrs. Cooper, bowing over her hand and lightly brushing her knuckles with his lips. "I am charmed to see you again, Madame. You husband has been quite professional in his dealings with us, and I appreciate it. I also know you and your husband have been good friends to Mrs. Gaines, and I am deeply grateful for that."
He turned to Mrs. Williams and similarly bowed over her hand, murmuring "Enchantéé, Madame. I look forward to seeing you at church when my health and the demands of my position permit"
Finally, he turned to Miss Reynolds and Miss Simms, summing them up as young women on the hunt and dismissing them immediately. He bowed to both of them, "Ladies, the honor is mine." Through all of this, the southern accent, spiced with the bits of French that were part of his heritage, was blatant. He stepped back to stand beside Rebecca.
"Your health? Are you ill Colonel?" Mrs. Williams inquired causing Grace
to snort her amusement.
"Madame, I was stricken with a touch of pleurisy after that terrible storm last week. Fortunately, Miss Rebecca and Dr. Walker provided sound medical care and I am recovering."
All eyes returned to Rebecca who led Charlie to the love seat so they were sitting side beside. "He is a very grouchy patient, too. It was all I could do to keep him in bed."
Charlie smiled gently at Rebecca, "Ah, chere Madame, for you I would do many things, even to letting you tend me when I was ill. I am very grateful, I do assure you." Turning to the other ladies in the room, he continued, "You know, Miss Rebecca has joined with Dr. Walker to try and plan ways to make good medical care available to the whole community. I would appreciate it, ladies, if given your standing in the community, you would let folks know that we will be available to provide such support when needed? Oh, and I am hoping you will be able to meet Dr. Walker before you depart today."
"Colonel, are you suggesting that good southern people take help from Yankee rabble? That we should allow such a thing would be a disgrace. Maybe Rebecca Gaines does not mind sharing her home, and obviously her bed, with you, but I have no desire to take anything from you." The minister’s wife was nearly out of her chair by the time she was done.
"Margaret!" Mrs. Cooper looked to Charlie and Rebecca with pleading eyes.
Charlie's voice, low and quiet but powerfully commanding broke through the woman's tirade. "Madame, you will not besmirch Miss Rebecca's name in her own home. Yes, I am staying here. But I have not taken advantage of her and I will not. I will court her and woo her and if I am fortunate, I may win her. And I assure you, as an officer and a gentleman, I will always treat her with honor and respect. I am just as much a southerner as you. I was born in Charleston and, as you can hear, retain both the speech and the manners of my native state. Our physician, Dr. Walker, grew up in Charlottesville, not forty miles south of where we stand right now. Neither of us are Yankees. We are people who believe in the sanctity of the Union - a political difference."