by Tim Black
“What was that sound that man was making?” Tillie asked Bette. “Do you know?”
“It is called the death rattle, Tillie,” Victor said. “It is the last gasps of breath before you die. I was at my grandmother’s death bed when I first heard that same sound.” Tears formed in Tillie’s eyes. “Let’s go,” she said, beginning to weep.
Bette, overcome as well at the sight of so many wounded and dying courageous young men, began sobbing, too.
The trio entered the cellar-kitchen of the house and found nurses making beef tea for the men. Noticing the girls’ tears, one of the nurses asked, “Why are you crying?”
Between sobs, Tillie told the nurse what the three had just witnessed.
The nurse attempted to cheer the girls up with a modicum of success. A chaplain approached the girls and said, “Little girls, do all you can for the poor soldiers and the Lord will surely reward you.”
Tillie Pierce looked at the chaplain and laughed. But then her face registered embarrassment. She soberly told the chaplain what they had witnessed in the barn. “I laughed when I should not have, chaplain,” she explained. “I am sorry.”
The chaplain smiled and said, “Well, young lady, it is much better for you and the soldiers to be in a cheerful mood.”
When they were outside the barn, Tillie commented, “I was wrong to laugh at the chaplain and I am sorry for it.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Tillie,” Bette assured her new friend. “I felt the same way you did. It seems like the Lord deserted these poor boys in their greatest hour of need.”
“This war isn’t God’s fault,” said Victor, speaking up for the Almighty. He was genuinely surprised that he now felt that way. But after only a day of witnessing the carnage of battle, Victor found himself with an altered opinion. “This is man’s doing, not God’s. War is an act of man, not God,” he added, feeling good about his change of heart. Still, there was something of a “rubber-necker” in him. Like a motorist slowing down to peep at a roadside accident, Victor still hungered to view the battle itself. He suddenly remembered Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain from the Michael Sciarra novel Killer Angels: Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain and the insane bayonet charge of the 20th Maine on Little Round Top on July 2nd. The Round Tops were visible from the Weikert farm. Victor looked west and saw them. The farm was east of Little Round Top. If he could climb Big Round Top on the morning of July 2nd, he could watch the bayonet charge on Little Round Top in the afternoon. Big Round Top was too wooded to be of much military value to either side, but it gave a good vista to Little Round Top, or what the locals sometimes referred to as “Sugarloaf.”
While the girls chatted, Victor remained in his thoughts, developing a plan for sneaking away from the Weikert farm the following morning. He needed to share his idea with Bette. Waiting until Tillie Pierce went ahead of them, Victor whispered to his classmate, “We need to talk.”
“We sure do,” Bette agreed in a lowered voice.
Tillie entered the Weikert farmhouse and Victor and Bette walked over to the spring as if to get a cool drink of water. Victor began, “First off, I’m sorry about blowing your cover,” he apologized.
She laughed. “I guess I’m no reverse Caitlyn Jenner,” Bette said. “I’m glad to be done with the last name of Kardashian that’s for sure…hey, Tillie Pierce got Mrs. Shriver’s first name wrong in her memoir, but then she was writing it years later as a grown woman. I think that is understandable, but it is interesting that no one ever pointed it out.”
“What’s the mistake?”
“She said her neighbor Mrs. Shriver’s name was ‘Sarah’ when it was Henrietta, or as she introduced herself, ‘Hettie.’ I think in her old age, Tillie Pierce confused the two. It is understandable, I guess.”
“I suppose so,” Victor agreed. “Bette, are you still up for seeing the battle?”
“I sure am.”
“Well, then we need to get up with the rooster tomorrow and head off for Big Round Top. The main action tomorrow will be on Little Round Top. Since Big Round Top was heavily wooded, soldiers didn’t occupy the larger of the two hills, if I recall. We should be safely able to watch the battle tomorrow from there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Have you ever visited the battlefield, Bette?”
“No, have you, Victor?”
“Yes, two years ago, when our family went on a trip to visit Penn State when my older brother had dreams of a Division 1 football scholarship. I bugged my parents to spend time in Gettysburg on the drive back to Florida, and to my surprise my father agreed. Best day of the summer two years ago. But I have a feeling tomorrow will top that day.”
*
That night Victor shared a bed with David Weikert while Levi, the oldest of the three males, slept alone in a bed, which was something of a luxury. Victor knew that it wasn’t unusual for two men to sleep in a bed in the 19th century. Rather, it was quite the custom in small hotels and boarding houses. Abraham Lincoln, as a traveling circuit attorney, often shared a bed with a stranger when he stopped for the night at an inn.
For her part, Bette slept in a bed with Becky Weikert and Tillie Pierce, the youngest of the teens, who was wedged in-between the two older girls. Becky offered Bette a nightshirt to borrow and Bette changed out of her overalls. As the girls undressed, Bette saw that the older girl was wearing a menstrual belt. The belt held a pad in place with clasps and the pad consisted of layers of absorbent cloth cut from household lines which were then sew together. Bette, who was considering women’s studies as a college major, had done extensive research on the history of feminine hygiene and had seen images of menstrual belts online. She found a website, the Museum of Menstruation & Women’s Health, which was a treasure trove of information on the history of women’s hygiene issues.
Since she was going to be sleeping in the same bed as Becky, Bette was pleased that Becky was not a “free bleeder” like many farm girls of the 19th century. Never in her life, had Bette been so thankful for the modern tampon after seeing Becky wearing her belt.
In a corner of the bedroom, Bette spotted a bucket of cold water. She knew from her research that women soaked a used pad in cold water to remove the blood and, after the blood was removed, the pad was placed in boiling water. Now that Bette was going to be staying in Gettysburg for a few months, it was fortuitous that she had done her research. One thing in the research which had surprised her: girls had their first periods later in the 19th century, on average between the ages of fourteen and fifteen. Part of the reason was the poor diet of the time, which led to many of the girls being malnourished by modern standards. Bette also discovered that married women had fewer periods since they were often either pregnant or nursing. Mrs. Sarah Weikert, Bette reasoned, probably went years without a period as she gave birth to thirteen children, one right after another.
Bette’s mind recalled her research, and while her two companions were quickly in the arms of Morpheus, her racing mind prevented her from slipping off to sleep. Eventually, she did drift off, however, but not before thinking that her companions would benefit greatly from a bath. People in 1863, Bette concluded, seemed to be more malodorous than they had been in 1776, and they didn’t seem to use perfumes to mask their body odor as the 18th century Philadelphians had. Bette really wanted a nice warm shower, but that was not to be. She decided that she would be lucky with a skinny dip in a creek.
A rooster’s crowing at the break of dawn, awakened Victor with a start. He felt surprisingly refreshed from a night of sleep. He couldn’t recall dreaming at all, but he did remember that he and Bette had a date to watch the battle from the summit of Big Round Top. Victor quickly dressed and went downstairs. The first floor was awash in rows of wounded and recovering soldiers, most of whom were still asleep. Victor carefully walked through the group and proceeded to the farmhouse kitchen where he found Mr. and Mrs. Weikert already at the kitchen table having breakfast.
“Good morning, Victor,” Mrs. Weikert said
cheerily. “Are you hungry, boy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, let me make you up a plate of biscuits and gravy.” She smiled and then said, “I think I will be making biscuits and gravy for the wounded boys all day long come to think of it,” she added cheerfully. “And here comes your sister. Good morning, Bette. It’s good to see more children in the house. So many of ours are married and gone now. Just Levi, Becky and David at home now, and my Becky would be married by now if the danged war hadn’t started. Isn’t that right, Jacob?” she said to her husband.’
“Uh huh,” was all Jacob Weikert replied.
Midway through breakfast, Victor said, “Mr. and Mrs. Weikert, we thank you for your hospitality, but we should be on our way.”
“I don’t know where you are fixin’ to go, boy,” Mrs. Weikert replied. “You are welcome to stay here. A colonel said they will be taking most of the wounded boys to the barn, or outside, as it doesn’t look like rain today.’
“We’d like to see what is going on,” Victor said.
Mrs. Weikert pointed her spatula at Victor and waved it for emphasis. “Curiosity killed the cat, Victor.”
“I understand ma’am.”
“Well, don’t be picking up a gun, Victor,” Mrs. Weikert warned. “If you aren’t in uniform, and you are shooting at the Rebs, the Rebs will consider you a bushwhacker and they will hang you, as God is my witness.”
“I understand.”
“And your sister wants to go too?”
“Yes, Mrs. Weikert,” Bette said. “I sure as heck do.”
“Watch your language at my table, young lady. And here you are dressed up like a boy again. Girl, is there something wrong with you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m just curious like my brother.”
“Well, if Rebs start shooting at you, you run back here, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Weikert left the kitchen and walked outside.
After they completed their breakfast and took turns in the privy, Victor and Bette walked outside where Mrs. Weikert was waiting for them.
“There are several canteens out by the pump. They belonged to some soldiers who won’t need them any longer. Make sure you each fill one, before you set off,” Mrs. Weikert advised. “It might be a hot one today. There is a crick between the Round Tops called Plum Run if you need more water.”
“Yes,‘ma’am,” Victor said. “How’d you know we going to Big Round Top.”
Mrs. Weikert smiled. “Sound carries in my house,” she said. “You have thirteen kids you learn to hear everything.” She laughed.
Victor thought Mrs. Weikert would have made a heck of a spy. He guessed any mother would.
Then Mrs. Weikert handed Victor a brass tube about ten inches long with a leather carrying case with a strap to sling over a shoulder. “This belonged to one of the Signal Corps boys who didn’t make it,” she said. “I thought it might keep you out of harm’s way.”
“What is it, Victor?” Bette asked.
“It’s a telescope,” Victor said, and suddenly had a rash of affection for the old woman. He hugged her. “Thank you, Mrs. Weikert.”
“You are welcome, Victor. You take care of your sister and keep her from getting shot, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Victor replied, thinking Mrs. Weikert could not know how useful a telescope would be from a lookout position on Big Round Top. Or could she?
“This war is bad enough killing the men, we don’t need dead girls, too,” Mrs. Weikert lectured Victor.
Mrs. Weikert also gave them a cloth bag with a drawstring. Inside the bag was a loaf of bread and several freshly picked peaches. “You’ll get hungry,” she said, and then hugged each one of them.
Victor and Bette headed east toward the Round Tops.
“I think Mrs. Weikert has a crush on you, Victor,” Bette teased. “I hope she didn’t keep a diary as well as Sarah Broadhead.”
“She didn’t. Well, I don’t think she did. I just hope we don’t wind up in Tillie Pierce’s reminiscence.”
“Well considering Tillie got Mrs. Shriver’s first name wrong, perhaps she would mess up ours as well. I just hope Elizabeth Thorn doesn’t mention the Kardashians in her memoir later on. Hey, did you know that Mrs. Shriver’s husband was later captured and died at Andersonville?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I researched Mrs. Shriver and her husband and he came home for Christmas in 1863, but was captured in battle in 1864 and sent to Andersonville and died there.”
“Andersonville, what a vile prisoner of war camp in Georgia.”
“He was one of thousands that died, Victor.
“Well, I didn’t know that, Victor,” Bette conceded. “You know Andersonville wasn’t on the A.P. exam.”
“No, it wasn’t. I think you will be happy you have those shoes, Kromer,” Victor said to Bette, nodding to her black modern walkers. “It’s going to be a rocky climb. It is nearly eight hundred feet to the top, and the summit is covered with trees and boulders. There were so many trees and boulders that the Union army couldn’t place artillery on the hill. Little Round Top was more accessible to artillery, and cannons were placed there. I figure we can find a good boulder to hide behind and watch the action on Little Round Top. We have to reach the summit, because an Alabama brigade of Confederates is going to occupy a lower position on Big Round Top later today. Colonel William Oates is the commander.”
“How do you know all of this, Victor?”
“When we visited the battlefield, we hired a tour guide who had incredible knowledge of the battle. I learned that from him. I like to think that like Sheldon Cooper I had an eidetic memory.”
“Victor, you do realize that Sheldon Cooper is only a character on The Big Bang Theory, don’t you?”
“Yes, Bette. But I remember every little thing, every image of my visit to the Gettysburg battlefield.”
“I hope that comes in handy.”
They were on the east side of the Round Tops. Victor said, “It is too early in the day. Neither army has realized the strategic importance of the Round Tops. You see, the Union army is running a line of defense all the way down Cemetery Ridge from Culp’s Hill and Cemetery Hill to the Round Tops. The line resembles a fish hook in its design. This is the end of the Union line. If the Rebels take Little Round Top they can move their cannons to its summit and fire down upon the Union lines. That would change the course of the battle as surely as the battle would have been changed had Pickett’s Charge succeeded.”
“I am impressed, Victor.”
“I don’t know what is wrong with me, Bette, but I do so much like military history.”
“Most guys do, Victor,” Bette said. “Perhaps that’s why we have so many wars.”
Victor had never thought of that. “Maybe it is, Kromer,” he said. “Maybe it is.”
The climb up Big Round Top was arduous. Victor and Bette stopped often to rest before continuing their ascent. It took them nearly two hours to reach the summit, and Victor judged the time to be about 10 a.m. Thankfully, they did not run into any Confederate skirmishers. Victor found a series of boulders that provided adequate cover and a good view of Little Round Top. He and Bette settled in and watched. Victor was alarmed that Little Round Top was occupied by only a small Union Army Signal Corps detachment.
Bette watched as a man waved flags. “What is he doing?” Bette asked.
“He is sending a message. The Signal Corps had its own sign language. You see high ground is important. If you have the high ground you can see what the enemy is up to, what they are planning. It was the big advantage that the Union had in the battle. We can sit back for a while since things won’t really pick up until the afternoon.”
At that moment, the ghost of Bruce Catton made an appearance. “Good day, students,” he said. “I overheard Victor talking about the Signal Corps so I thought I would appear and give you a brief tutorial on how the flag men worked their messages. You see, the Union Signal Co
rps communicated with each other through Myer’s Wig Wag System. The system was named for Albert J. Myer, who in 1856 drafted this system that used flags, and each movement of the flag represented the number one, two or three. The Signal Corps men communicated with each other by waving these flags in a series of codes. They chose prominent high locations like Little Round Top or Culp’s Hill. Situated on the highest and clearest point they would send or receive and decode messages. They used two types of signal flags. One flag was red with a smaller white square in the center, while the second was all white and a smaller red square in the center. Each movement of the signal flags was representative of a letter. The signalman waved these flags while the intended party observed these flags by looking through a telescope like Victor has, calling out the numbers, and another man would write the numbers down. Then they would decipher the message. So high ground like Little Round Top was important for intelligence gathering, artillery and sending messages.”
“Gee, thanks, Mr. Catton,” Victor said. “I didn’t know that.”
Bette pointed to the strange rock formation off to the left in the little valley below. The boulders there seemed enormous in both length and height. She noticed some blue uniforms among the rocks. “What is that, Mr. Catton?”
“That’s Devil’s Den, Bette.”
“Are those men in blue uniforms ours?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?” Victor replied.
“Yes, they are, Bette,” Catton said.
“You don’t have to be sarcastic, Victor,” Bette chided. “I don’t know as much as you do about the battle.” Bette scowled at him.
“I’m sorry, Bette,” Victor apologized. “I shouldn’t have been sarcastic. Those men will soon be replaced by Rebel sharpshooters when the Confederates overrun the position. That won’t be long from now. The area between Devil’s Den and Little Round Top, will earn its name, ‘Valley of Death.’ There is a little stream that meanders through the valley, that is the Plum Run Mrs. Weikert mentioned, and it was a source of fresh water for soldiers on both sides. And perhaps for us as well, although I don’t think we can venture from our spot here before nightfall. We will need to be careful with our water.”