by T. Novan
"I promise to keep it safe and protect it and you until my dying day, Charles Redmond."
All Charlie could do was close his eyes and savor the moment.
--*--
Once Charlie’s haircut was finished and Rebecca released him for his torture, she sent him on his way and carried the chair back into the kitchen. Sarah was tending the fire in the boiler. She looked up and gave Rebecca a little smirk. "Do not worry about it, Miss Rebecca, men start squirming in the chair as youngsters when their Mama cuts their hair and that is one of the things they never outgrow. My Mama used to say it was because they all thought they were like Sampson."
Rebecca laughed. "I can see that. I hope Colonel Redmond does not think of me as Delilah."
Rebecca stepped back out on the porch to collect the things she had left out there, when a commotion made her go around the corner of the house. There she saw Duncan and another trooper in the midst of a fistfight. "Boys! Stop this!" She left the porch and ran to the men. "Stop this!" She wanted to try and separate them but knew she would not have the strength to stop these two men who were intent on hurting each other.
She moved to the back of the house and yelled as loud as she could. "Charlie! Sergeant Jackson!"
Charlie was just entering his office, while scratching at the little hairs that had slipped inevitably under his collar. He turned and ran around the house, looking for Rebecca. He was sure she was in trouble.
Jocko had been to his tent to gather his belongings and was hauling them back to take over the little room that Beulah had told him was to be his own. He dropped his belongings in the mud and started running.
"Oh, Charlie, you have got to stop them!" She pointed to the other side of the house when she saw Charlie come out of his office.
Charlie looked to where Rebecca was pointing. Duncan was rolling in the mud with what looked like one of the Pennsylvania troopers from Montgomery's company. Fortunately, Jocko was on the way to the scene from the other side.
The two men moved quickly. Charlie literally lifted Duncan off the larger man. Davison, a trooper history of aggressive behavior, was up and after Duncan again in a heartbeat. Jocko grabbed Trooper Davison and pinned his arms behind his back.
Rebecca stayed well back but watched as the two men pulled the fighters apart from each other. It was everything she could do to stay back and let Charlie handle the situation.
Charlie's command voice was present in full force. "‘Tenshun." Both men realized their commanding officer was present. They snapped to full attention, eyes forward, one with a blackened eye, and the other with a bloody lip.
Charlie stalked around both of them. "All right. Which one of you wants to tell me what is going on here?"
Both men remained stubbornly silent.
"All right. Duncan. You are the last man I would expect to break the rules about fighting in camp. What happened?"
"Sir, noth…… nothing sir." Duncan’s eyes strayed to Rebecca, then back to his commander.
Charlie caught the look. He stepped behind Davison. "What about you, trooper. What have you to say?"
"Nothing, sir." The man all but growled his answer.
"You are both aware that fighting is a punishable crime."
"Yes, sir." They answered together. Duncan swallowed hard.
"Which one of you started this?"
Duncan stepped forward without a word.
Duncan's one glance to his fiancéée had told the story. Charlie's eyebrow rose. Duncan Nailer was the gentlest man in the whole regiment. Whatever Davison had said about Rebecca must have been harsh. Charlie nodded. "I assume that something was said or done that inspired this behavior."
"I threw the first p..p..punch, sir." Duncan responded. "It was my fault."
"Duncan, go to my office. Wait there for my judgment. And wipe your feet before you go in. I do not want mud on everything." He turned to Davison and just waited.
Duncan double-timed it around the house to wait for the Colonel. Davison just continued to stand there at attention staring straight ahead.
"Since I know Duncan well enough to know that he would not throw a punch without at least some provocation, do you want to tell me what you said."
Davison’s eyes strayed to Rebecca,and then he looked hard at Charlie. "I said she was a whore."
"You realize you are speaking of my fiancéée." Charlie’s voice was hard and flat.
"You deserve her." His lip curled before he added with a sneer. "Sir."
Charlie's temper was rising rapidly. A deadly calm settled over him, one that Jocko recognized as the most lethal of all of Charlie's moods. "Really? Would you care to tell me, Mr. Davison, just why you hold that opinion?"
"She is southern trash. Makes sense you would find your way into her bed."
"Does that mean you believe I am southern trash as well, Mr. Davison?"
The man said nothing but continued to stare at his commanding officer. Then he took a deep breath. "They should not have given you command. You are a southern sympathizer. Look at what you are ordering us to do for these rebels. I would rather cut my own throat than chop one piece of wood to keep them warm."
"Are you aware, Trooper, that we are following orders issued by our Commander in Chief himself?"
"Not all people agree with him, either. They started this war, let them suffer for it."
"All right. We are going to resolve this issue today." He turned to Jocko. "Muster the regiment. I want full attendance, in formation, in the north paddock in fifteen minutes." Turning back to Davison, he commanded, "You, sir, will be free to state you opinion at the muster. I expect you to state it succinctly and as a gentleman. Know that I will personally speak for the other side of this issue."
Charlie called one of the staff sergeants from his old regiment over. "Sergeant, guard this man. He is under arrest for fighting in the encampment. Further charges, specifically dereliction of duty, may be brought."
Charlie stalked off to his office to deal with Duncan while the regiment gathered.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, lad?"
"Sir, I am s..s..sorry for fighting." Duncan stood ramrod straight, in front of Charlie’s desk.
"So how many of your fellow troopers have the same opinion of our situation as Davison?"
"Sir?"
"Mr. Davison just informed me that he referred to Miss Rebecca as a whore. He went on to inform me that I should not have been given this command because I am a southern sympathizer. I assume that he said something similar to you."
Duncan’s eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, then he looked back up. "Yes, sir. He said awful things about Miss Rebecca and he……" The boy stopped and shook his head.
More gently, Charlie urged him on. "Tell me, Duncan. I cannot fix it if I do not know what I am facing."
"Davison said awful things about Miss Rebecca that I would ra..rather not repeat, and as for those other things, sir, I know that sev……several of the men in Major Monty’s command grumbled around about them."
"I assume that he called Miss Rebecca a whore. Anything worse than that?"
Duncan looked very uncomfortable and squirmed under Charlie’s stare. "He said……said……"
"Go on, lad. I am not angry at you. In fact, if it had been me, rather than you, I might be in the uncomfortable position of having to discipline myself."
Duncan laughed a little. Then he stood up straight and looked at his commander. "He said she should be taken out into one of the f..f..fields and shown what a good northern man could do for her, instead of sharing her bed with you. Then he made comments about what Miss Rebecca might do." He took a deep breath. "I tried to ignore him sir, but when he talked about hurting Miss Rebecca I just cou..cou……could not let that go."
"I understand, Duncan. I would have done exactly the same thing that you did. What about the problems he seems to be having with me as his commander?"
"Sir, men grumble. Not……not all of them mean half the things they say
, but Davison is just mean sir. Always has been. Major Monty could be in command and he would find something wrong there, too. You just have more for him to hate, sir."
"All right. Your punishment for fighting will be levied at the muster. Time for us to go."
Charlie walked out with Duncan behind him just as Polk came charging up. "Colonel. What has happened?"
Charlie stalked toward the assembly point. "You will have to conduct the action review. Seems Mr. Davison has a major complaint about me as well as a desire to insult our hostess - rather grossly, I might add."
"Rebecca? My Lord, what could someone possibly have to say about Rebecca?"
"Evidently that she is southern trash, a whore and that she should find out what a good Yankee man can do for a woman instead of sharing her bed with me. By the way, I am a southern sympathizer who does not deserve command."
"My, my, Charlie. Did you start the war, too?" Polk chuckled, trying to wrap his mind around this whole blow up and also trying to figure out why Charlie had not whaled on Davison for what had been said about Rebecca. "And what did young Duncan, back there, do."
"Whaled on Davison. Wish I could have."
"Davison said these things to Duncan? Does not seem like a bright thing to do. Anyone with eyes can see Duncan has a horrible crush on Rebecca."
"He said similar things to me." Charlie's voice was dead flat.
"Oh, Charlie, I am sorry. What are we going to do about this?"
"You are going to give Davison a chance to voice his opinion. I am then going to point out a few facts. At which point, any man who agrees with Davison will be invited to go elsewhere. Immediately. Dishonorable discharge for dereliction of duty and failure to obey the orders of the Commander In Chief."
"All right. We will deal with it. Tell me, did Rebecca hear this?"
"To be honest, I do not know."
"I hope not. She has been very kind and does not deserve this kind of disrespect."
"No one does."
The two men arrived at the muster point. "All right, Polk. It is your show."
The second in command took his place in front of the troops, walking back and forth slowly. "All right. Seems you boys need a chance to get some things off your chest. And if you want to do that, we are going to give you a chance to do that right now." He turned and looked into the crowd. "But before that Colonel Redmond has a few things to say to you."
Charlie stepped up and stood before the men. Slowly, he swept his gaze across all of the assembled companies, making eye contact with individual men he knew to be troublemakers and malcontents. Some avoided him; most looked at him with some degree of curiosity.
"It seems that some of you may have problems with the relationship I am trying to build with this community and with some of the work details to which you have been assigned. I also understand that you may have problems with individuals, either among our hosts or within this command. This is your chance to voice your opinions."
He paced in front of the troops. "Before you do, however, you should know that the 13th Pennsylvania is operating on orders directly from the Commander in Chief, and validated by both General Grant and General Sheridan."
"Colonel Polk will be conducting this process, as I have a personal interest. Therefore, I will only speak as a member of the regiment, not as your commanding officer, until such time as it is appropriate for me to perform my duty."
Polk took a step forward. "You heard the Colonel. Any man who has something to say about our situation can say it now, or report to me in my office within the next half hour. But let me tell you, gentleman, I will not tolerate derogatory things being said about Mrs. Gaines. If you have something to say about the Colonel or me, say it now. Nothing else will be tolerated."
He looked to Charlie who was clenching his fists. "Anything else, sir?"
"Davison. I told you that you would have a chance to speak your opinion. You may do so now. Publicly."
Clearly, Charlie was going to bring this issue to a head.
"I do not have anything to say that the men loyal to the Union do not all ready know. That woman is a whore and you are a sympathizer."
"Any man who agrees with Mr. Davison is free to step forward."
Polk watched with some curiosity as about twenty men fidgeted about and then fifteen or so stepped forward.
"Quartermaster. Pay these men their quarterlies and their muster out pay. See to it that they have civilian clothing. Show them as mustered out of the 13th Pennsylvania as of this date. Go in an orderly fashion, leave the battle lines and your release from duty will not be noted as for cause. Create any disruption, harass any civilian in any way, and you will be charged with disobeying a direct order, dereliction of duty, and shown as a dishonorable discharge. Am I clear?"
The men just looked to each other and stared at Charlie, not believing what had just happened. "You cannot do that!" One of the men in the back yelled.
He turned to the regiment. "Oh, yes I can, trooper. This regiment will obey the orders of our Commander in Chief. As such, we will begin the process of reconstructing the Union. The civilians of this community are not armed opponents. They have done nothing to warrant this antipathy. General Grant himself, when he bivouacked here last spring, said this was the most devastated portion of the country he had seen and that these people deserved our support and assistance if they were to successfully return to the Union."
Charlie went on to address the other critical issue, his own commitment to duty. "I have personally served this country for twenty years. I stood at Buena Vista and lived. Some of you have been with me since that time. I stood at Vicksburg. Some of you were there during that bloody hell. I will stand with you as we end this conflict. But I will not have it said that the men of the 13th were ever anything less than honorable gentlemen."
"Oh, and trooper? I can do more than that. The penalty for failure to obey a direct order from your commanding officer during wartime is death."
A sudden chill fell over the restless crowd. The tone of Charlie’s voice made it perfectly clear that he was not threatening them. Instead, he was simply stating that he would have absolutely no compunction about enforcing the punishment should the situation warrant such an extreme act.
Polk signaled to a few armed troopers acting as sentries and they began rounding up the few men that had stepped forward. "Anyone else want out now? This is the time to speak up."
Charlie stood with his arms crossed and his face etched in stone.
They watched, but no one else had anything to say, except for Duncan who raised his hand. "Sir?"
"Corporal Nailer?"
"You told me that I would find out my punishment for fighting, Sir."
Charlie turned to the rest of the men. "Nailer fought with Davison. Davison called Miss Rebecca a whore and called me a southern sympathizer. I will entertain suggestions for what should be done to Mr. Nailer for this infraction of the rules."
"He should be forced to eat Sergeant Jackson’s rabbit stew." Someone piped up from the back, causing a roar of laughter from the rest of the group.
"Now that is punishment. Other suggestions?"
None of the men seemed to keen on naming a punishment of one of their own. They shifted back and forth.
"Well, since Mr. Nailer got into trouble for defending Miss Rebecca, I think that assigning him as her permanent bodyguard seems appropriate. Of course, that means he is always on duty one way or another. What do you think, Colonel Polk?"
Polk cleared his throat and hid the smile behind his hand. "I think that is a good idea, Sir. He can accompany Miss Rebecca into town and the likes when you are unavailable.
Charlie turned to the troops. "Gentlemen, what do you think of that idea?"
"I have seen Miss Rebecca when she is riled up about something. I feel sort of sorry for Nailer, sir." One man at the end of the row offered. "Nothing worse than a southern lady having a full blown conniption."
"All right, men. Unless one of you still has a
problem with President Lincoln's orders or with my command?"
They answered all at once as a proper unit. "No, Sir!"
"Then, gentlemen, our orders are to find a way to get the citizens of Culpeper County through this winter in one piece –– and along the way, maybe make the reconstruction of the Union we have fought for so long and hard a little easier.
The men shifted a bit, expecting to be dismissed. Instead, Charlie talked quietly with Polk for a moment, and then turned back to the troops. "While I have you all here, I have another announcement."
They formed back up, waiting to hear what else their commander had to drop on them.
"As part of our holiday celebrations, I hereby announce a formal Gymkhana, to be held on the 22nd and 23rd of this month. The winning company will serve this spring as my personal guard and the vanguard of the Regiment. The man with the most points within that company will serve as the color bearer. There will be appropriate prizes for the winners of each event. Gentlemen, it is an opportunity to hone your skills as soldiers, horsemen, and members of a crack fighting team. Events will include the traditional and cross-country endurance races, horsemanship, and demonstrations of skill with saber, lance, rifle and side arms. We will invite the civilians of the community to observe our games. You have a fortnight to practice. I expect every one of you to participate in some event."
A cheer went up from the men. Such events were usually fun and they enjoyed the challenge. Anyway, showing off to the locals sounded like a good idea.
Charlie smiled. The men were distracted from their latest crisis and there seemed to be universal approval for the gymkhana. "Dismissed."
The men disbanded and returned to their various duties with a buzz of excited chatter.
--*--
Rebecca stripped the linens from the bed. Part of her wanted to be mad and upset over what had been said about her but she could not. The fact of the matter was, she could understand why Charlie’s men would think such things. What did make her mad, were the nasty things said about Charlie.
She put the old linens in the basket and placed new ones on the bed, remaking it quickly. "Fools, can they not see how hard Charlie is working to make things better." She grumbled as she continued puttering around the room.