by D M Barrett
“Where are you going?” Andy Standing Deer asked.
“To print an extra edition of this paper and let the world know that the government has fired on innocent civilians while desecrating a sacred Cherokee burial ground,” the editor exclaimed.
“I’m going to get our community to prepare for war,” Andy Standing Deer explained.
Within the hour, the editor was circulating an extra edition of the Mountain Gazette. Its headline was only one word: WAR.
The editor reported, “Our unarmed, peacemaking man of God, Brother Thomas Preacher Man, has been viciously and cowardly shot in the back by U.S. Army soldiers assisting TVA engineers in desecrating sacred Cherokee burial ground. He is clinging to mortality as Dr. Marcus Whitman heroically attempts to save his life.”
14. Sacred Ground (Part II)
It didn’t take long for the news involving the U.S. Army attack on the peace delegation led by the preacher to spread to Knoxville, Nashville, and points between. The Nashville and Knoxville radio stations broadcasted reports hourly on the situation in Ferguson.
Jack Wright made an immediate call for Henry Wooden. They did not wait for the train before they dashed to be by the preacher’s death bed. But, before leaving Lebanon, Henry Wooden made a personal telephone call to his personal friend in Nashville, Governor Gordon Browning.
Upon learning from Henry Wooden and news reports that an attack had been made upon Tennessee citizens, the governor ordered a battalion of state militia drawn from several cities to converge upon and defend Ferguson. The state commandeered the Mountain Excursion and turned it into a troop train.
When news reached the Eastern Band Reservation, the Cherokee met in war council and dispatched another 200 Cherokee warriors to Putnam County.
About midnight the preacher sat up in one of the clinic’s six beds and asked, “What’s going on Dr. Whitman?”
Nurse Bilbrey rushed to the preacher, hugged him, kissed him quickly, and said, “We’ve been so worried about you, Tom.”
“What’s the last thing that you remember, preacher?” the physician asked.
“I was leaving a meeting with Lieutenant Anderson, Louis Barrett, and Andy Standing Deer,” the preacher replied.
“You were shot in a firefight. Luckily the wound was from a rifle shot that ricocheted off a rock and grazed you just below you right shoulder. It took seven stitches to close the wound,” the doctor explained.
“You passed out and have been unconscious for several hours,” Nurse Bilbrey added.
“Why did I pass out?” the preacher asked.
“You suffered a vasovagal syncope,” the physician explained.
“Plain language, doc,” the preacher replied.
“You had a sudden drop in heart rate and blood pressure that caused you to faint due to the stressful trigger of getting shot,” Dr. Marcus said.
“Why did it last for several hours?” the preacher inquired.
“I’m not sure, but you stayed out long enough for me to stitch you up,” he responded.
“Can I leave?” the preacher asked.
“I need you to stay until morning. After you eat breakfast you can get out. But you’ll still need to take it easy,” the doctor cautioned.
Hearing the preacher’s voice, Sheriff Hankins stepped into the clinic. He looked worried as he approached the preacher.
“We’ve got a real mess going on, Tom,” the sheriff said firmly as he handed a copy of the Mountain Gazette Extra to him.
The preacher took a moment to quickly read below the WAR headline. He glanced toward the doctor, the nurse, and the sheriff. All three nodded their heads affirmatively.
“It’s a lot worse,” the sheriff reported.
“Can it be any worse?” the preacher exclaimed.
“Based upon the newspaper accounts and a call from Henry Wooden, Governor Browning has dispatched a battalion of troops drawn from several cities to defend the citizens of Ferguson. There’s 500 camped near Miller’s Lake on the eastern side of town with another 400 or so scheduled to be here tomorrow,” the sheriff reported.
“Andy Standing Deer told me the Cherokee Nation has 200 warriors that should be here tomorrow,” the doctor added.
“What about the 80 Army infantrymen at the burial site?” the preacher asked.
“They are backed against Jerusalem Ridge and in fox holes waiting for an attack according to Cherokee scouts,” Sheriff Hankins replied.
“What’s your role in all of this?” the preacher asked with a smile.
“I’m going to arrest that Army sniper for attempted murder of a civilian once the state militia dislodges them,” Sheriff Hankins said in a determined manner.
“Is anyone trying to calm the situation?” the preacher asked.
“This is far beyond being calmed, preacher. The U.S. government has declared war on the Cherokee Nation and the state of Tennessee,” the sheriff said.
“It was one scared soldier who fired at a Cherokee brave who popped up from behind a large rock and pointed a rifle at him. The bullet bounced off the rock and hit me in the shoulder. It was an accident,” the preacher pleaded.
“That’s not what the two eyewitnesses and a hundred Cherokee warriors saw,” the physician added.
“I need to see Andy Standing Deer, the Cherokee war chief, that newspaper man, and Henry Wooden here on the double,” the preacher said.
“Preacher, you need to rest until morning and have something to eat before you get into another stressful situation,” the doctor cautioned.
“That may well be, but if I don’t get started on resolving this situation now, you’ll have a lot more seriously wounded patients tomorrow. I’d count on a few mortally wounded ones, too,” the preacher remarked.
Dr. Whitman nodded for the sheriff to do as the preacher requested. The physician realized that the preacher’s words were prophetic.
“Nurse Bilbrey, on my card table desk in my room at the church is a small wooden box. I need you to retrieve it and bring it to me,” the preacher instructed.
“What’s the situation with my clothes?” the preacher asked Dr. Whitman.
“The coat can be spot washed, and I can sew the tear from the bullet. Unfortunately, the white shirt was too torn and too bloody to save,” Dr. Whitman reported.
The preacher looked at Nurse Bilbrey and nodded for her to bring a white dress shirt, too. She turned quickly and left the room.
“Where’s Joe Scott?” the preacher asked.
“He’s sleeping in the exam room. He intends to watch you while I get some sleep,” the doctor said.
“Wake him up. I’ve got a job for him,” the preacher said.
While he waited on the pharmacist, he grabbed one of the doctor’s pads and a pencil and began to write a message. When Joe Scott entered the room, he handed it to him. After reading the message, Joe Scott looked directly at the preacher.
“I need you to go to Cookeville. Be there when the telegraph office opens. Send that telegram directly to Secretary of State Cordell Hull from me. Wait on a reply. Do you understand?” the preacher asked.
“How long do I wait for a reply?” the pharmacist asked.
“Until hell freezes over, if necessary,” the preacher retorted.
“I understand,” Joe Scott said as he headed for the clinic door.
The preacher did not sleep the rest of the night but rested rather uncomfortably in the clinic bed. Once Andy Standing Deer, Louis Barrett, and Henry Wooden left the clinic, the doctor positioned himself on a nearby clinic bed and got minimal sleep until daylight.
Miss Rosie showed up at Scott’s Apothecary with a large basket of breakfast food for the preacher, the nurse, the physician, the sheriff, and the pharmacist. However, Joe Scott had not returned from the telegraph office with a reply.
When she saw the preacher sitting up and looking well, Miss Rosie burst into tears and began hugging the preacher and kissing his cheeks. In fact, the embrace was so strong it made the preacher wince
from the pain of his wound.
“We all prayed that the Lord would deliver you, preacher. We’ve been up all night. The newspaper said that you were clinging to life,” Miss Rosie said between sobs.
“I was in good hands, Miss Rosie; both the Lord’s and Dr. Whitman’s,” the preacher replied with a smile.
Dr. Whitman got up from the other clinic bed and said, “It looks and smells like breakfast.”
“Eat hearty, doctor. You’ve earned it,” the preacher proclaimed.
While the group was feasting on Miss Rosie’s offerings, two state militia officers walked into the clinic. They were friendly but had serious looks on their faces.
“I am Deputy Adjutant General Tom Baker, and this is my field commander, Captain Bruce Moore,” he said.
“I note that you carry the rank of major?” the preacher said.
“Yes, I report directly to the Adjutant General who reports directly to the governor,” Major Baker explained.
“If I may inquire, what are your orders, major,” the preacher asked.
“I have been ordered to coordinate any peaceful resolution efforts directly with you. In the event that there can be no peaceful resolution, I have been ordered to remove the U.S. Army by lethal force, if necessary,” the major replied as Captain nodded affirmatively.
“What is your assessment of the situation with the Cherokees?” the preacher asked.
“They have about 250 Cherokee warriors deployed on the army company’s flanks. There are another 50 holding position on the high ground that you call Jerusalem’s Ridge,” the major reported.
“Are you privy to their intentions?” the preacher inquired.
“They have the enemy boxed in on two sides and hold the high ground. In the event, that we make a frontal assault, they will attack the flanks and set fire to the high ground behind the army company,” Captain Moore explained.
“So the army will be forced to stay and die of fire and smoke inhalation or retreat from the Cherokees and the fire directly into your killing field,” the preacher replied.
“That’s an affirmative,” Major Baker replied.
“Let’s all pray that I’m as good at brokering a peace deal as we all hope that I am,” the preacher said.
“Indeed,” the major said as the others nodded.
* * *
“Has that next edition of The Mountain Gazette been circulated?” the preacher asked.
“It’s not nearly as exciting as yesterday’s edition,” Dr. Whitman remarked.
“What does it say about the situation?” the doctor asked.
“It says that you are now in satisfactory condition and plan to resume peaceful negotiations with the army. It tells factually about the state militia presence as well as the arrival of additional Cherokee warriors,” the doctor reported.
“Is there anything about my budding romance with the preacher?” Nurse Bilbrey inquired.
“I didn’t see a gossip column in today’s edition,” the doctor said.
“That’s too bad. I wanted to check on the progress of my budding romance,” the nurse remarked tongue-in-cheek.
“I was wondering where Jack Wright slept last night,” the preacher said gently changing the subject.
“I’ll bet money it wasn’t anywhere near that Lewis girl,” Sheriff Hankins said with a chuckle.
“Be careful sheriff, Proverbs 17:5 says, ‘[He] that is glad at calamities shall not go unpunished,’” the preacher reminded.
“You may be next week’s news, sheriff,” Nurse Bilbrey suggested.
“We’re small potatoes after this. He’s got more than he can write about for now,” the sheriff reminded them.
“Sheriff as soon as you are finished, I need you to locate Andy Standing Deer, Louis Barrett, and that Captain Moore and have them meet me at Discount Grocery,” the preacher directed.
“What’s up your sleeve, preacher?” the sheriff asked.
“I’m putting together a peace delegation. By the way, get a portable flag mast from those militia men and have Miss Ruby put a white bed sheet on it for a signal of truce,” the preacher instructed.
“Where am I going to find a white bed sheet?” the sheriff asked.
“I'd probably try Miss Rosie’s Bed & Breakfast,” the preacher said.
“Oh . . . okay . . . right,” the sheriff stammered.
“What do you expect us to do?” Nurse Bilbrey inquired.
“I’m hoping that you can just sit there and look pretty until we get this resolved,” the preacher said with a wink.
“What if it goes poorly?” the nurse asked.
“You will be doing triage for the good doctor,” the preacher said solemnly.
Louis Barrett, Andy Standing Deer, Major Baker, and Captain Moore were waiting for the preacher when he arrived at the store. At the same instant, the sheriff walked in with the flag of truce.
“Preacher, I know that you are in charge of the peace negotiations. I’d like to go with you,” Major Baker said.
“You are my first choice, major. But, I’m taking Captain Moore for a few reasons: (1) I’m dealing with a second lieutenant and an understanding captain will play better that a demanding major; (2) I don’t want it to appear that this situation has escalated exponentially; and, (3) I don’t want those army men to get too excited. The last time they got excited I got shot,” the preacher said with a smile.
“I understand your reasoning, preacher,” Major Baker said.
“One more thing, major,” the preacher said.
“What’s that, pastor?” the major inquired.
“If they fire on a flag of truce or this delegation, unleash hell’s fury on them,” the preacher suggested.
“We’ll plow the earth and used their dead bodies for the fertilizer,” the major promised.
* * *
As the four men walked silently toward the disputed work area, the preacher spoke, “Let me do the talking. Remain calm and professional even if I get in his face. We’re here to resolve this situation not start the second civil war.”
“We understand,” Captain Moore said.
During what seemed like an almost endless trek to the well-defended site, the preacher kept recalling some words to the song, ‘Sowing on the Mountain.’ The last verse says,
“Where you gonna run to
When the world’s on fire...
Where you gonna run to
When the world’s on fire...
Where you gonna run to
When the world’s on fire...
Little darling, pal of mine?”
When the Cherokees released the holy fire on Jerusalem’s Ridge and the state militia released their withering gun fire, the army men would truly understand the prophetic words, “You're gonna reap just what you sow.”
As the men got within about 30 feet of the work site, they were greeted by a master sergeant and the second lieutenant. The master sergeant immediately snapped to attention and held a salute.
‘We don’t salute state militia,” the second lieutenant scolded.
“I was saluting the preacher, sir,” the sergeant replied.
“We don’t salute civilians either, Sergeant. At ease,” the lieutenant barked.
“It is military courtesy to salute a civilian Medal of Honor recipient when he displays this,” the preacher said pointing to the medal pinned to his lapel.
Immediately, the second lieutenant saluted the preacher. The salutes were returned by the preacher.
“I didn’t realize that you were a Medal of Honor recipient, sir,” the lieutenant stammered.
Captain Moore began reciting the Medal of Honor citation:
Rank and organization: First Sergeant, U.S. Army, Company G, 119th Infantry, 30th Division
Place and date: Near Bellicourt, France, 29 September 1918.
Citation: Seeing that the left flank of his company was held up, he located the enemy machine-gun emplacement, which had been causing heavy casualties. In the face of heavy fir
e, he rushed it single-handedly, killing the entire crew with grenades. Continuing along the enemy trench in advance of his company, he reached another emplacement which he also charged, silencing the gun with grenades. A third machine-gun emplacement opened up on him, but he was partially shielded by another Sergeant who had rushed to assist him. He rushed the machine-gun emplacement and released two grenades into it. Both Sergeant Thomas Preacher Mann and Sergeant Gary Patrick Simpkins received near mortal wounds each but recovered. Sergeant Mann prevented many casualties among his company and materially aided in achieving the objective.
“You are Raven, and Sergeant Simpkins is Whitehorse,” the Lieutenant said somberly.
“Indeed,” Captain Moore said.
“I need you to enter into a cease fire or armistice. I can guarantee you safe passage from Ferguson to Knoxville until this matter is resolved by the two governments involved or the federal courts,” the preacher instructed.
“I will not abandon this site. I am under strict orders to hold it until reinforcements arrive,” the lieutenant replied.
“How many reinforcements are you expecting?” the preacher asked.
Before he could reply, the master sergeant said, “Another company to bring our strength to close to 200 men.”
“I’ll have you up on charges for providing that information to the enemy,” the lieutenant barked.
“Enemy! Enemy? We are all, with the exception of Standing Deer, citizens of the United States of America,” the preacher said very loudly.
“I am sworn to defend against all enemies, foreign and domestic,” the lieutenant announced as the master sergeant rolled his eyes.
“Captain Moore apprize Lieutenant Anderson of your orders and his current tactical situation and hold nothing back, please,” the preacher instructed.
“We have been ordered by the governor of Tennessee to coordinate any peaceful resolution efforts directly with Brother Thomas Mann. In the event that there can be no peaceful resolutions, we have been ordered to remove the U.S. Army by lethal force, if necessary,” the Captain said.