Home of the Brave

by D P Prouty

  Then Charlie said, “That’s not why I’m surprised. You see she’s pretty homely looking!”

  Frank started laughing harder, which was infectious as I began to laugh as well. Frank said, “Well, I guess it runs in the family.” Charlie tried to act angry for a moment, but joined in on the laughter at his expense.

  Charlie was done reading and I asked him quietly, “Charlie, did you put money in the plate at the church today?” I already knew he did, I wanted to withdraw the question but I already said it aloud.

  “Of course,” he replied. I asked him why, since he was trying to save money for his family, and he said, “It’s not my money, it belongs to the Lord. He only lets me borrow it for a time.”

  I uttered, “But you don’t even know those people?”

  He didn’t reply, he just scratched his ear. Frank was looking at me and I said, “Did you put anything in the plate, Frank?” He just shook his head indicating that he did not.

  Then Charlie stated, “I didn’t give anything to the people of that church—I gave a tithe to the Lord, I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.” Frank went back to reading a letter and I leaned back on my bunk and looked at the ceiling.

  We stayed up and talked a while about nothing in particular. Then I remembered to tell them about Mr. Edwards. “Would you believe Mr. Edwards’s first name is Sally!” They both looked at me dumbfounded and I told them what Mr. Freeman called him. Surely his parents didn’t name him Sally, we surmised. It must be some kind of nickname. Frank said, “Maybe his name is Saul.”

  “Or Sal,” I said.

  Thinking about it further, Frank declared, “Maybe it’s Samuel.”

  Charlie stood up and said, “Maybe it’s

  Salamander.”

  At that we started laughing. “Who would name a child Salamander?” Frank asked laughing.

  “How are we going to know what it is?” Charlie asked.

  Then he looked at me and stated that I would have to ask Mr. Freeman. By no means was I going to ask either Mr. Freeman or Mr. Edwards — “They wouldn’t tell me anyway,” had I declared.

  “Maybe that’s why Mr. Edwards is so grumpy all the time—with a name like Sally and all,” Charlie said.

  I replied, “Mr. Duffy told me he was on a ship called the Copperhead during the Revolution.” I went on to repeat what Mr. Duffy had told me. We laid down in silence for a few minutes, “I’m glad you fellas are here, there are certainly worse places to be,” Frank declared. We all agreed. The constant noise of the rain beating the roof was like a lullaby and my eyelids became heavy. I felt content and at peace with my circumstance, I didn’t dream.

  11

  Plan of Attack

  The next morning, I awoke and made my way to the outhouse. A moderate morning fog had descended upon the house and the sun was struggling to peak through the trees. I was walking back to the barn when I heard voices talking near the kitchen doorway as I passed by. I heard Mrs. Campbell say, “I’m not one of your sailors that you can order about, Hugh.”

  “I know that, Margret,” I heard the captain say.

  Mrs. Campbell continued, “I’m just saying, Charlene will be thirteen soon and I’m concerned that you bringing your boys home is not such a good idea.”

  “I know, but these are good boys, besides, I can’t just leave them on the ship, and I can’t let them out with the crew, God knows where they’d take them!”

  “Clyde, what are you doing?” Startled, I turned and saw Frank standing behind me. I quickly grabbed him and pushed him away from the kitchen doorway. “The captain and Mrs. Campbell are having an argument,” I whispered. “I don’t think Mrs. Campbell likes having us here.”

  “Why?” he asked in a voice that seemed to resonate in the morning air. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the barn. He protested and I explained to him that they were nearby and might be able to hear us. I told him what Mrs. Campbell said and he grinned, shook his head and said, “See, I told you. Don’t pursue Charlene or you’ll bring trouble to yourself!”

  “I just like her is all. It’s not as though I’m planning marriage or anything!” I responded.

  He just smiled and said, “All right, Clyde.”

  Frank and I entered the barn to see Charlie twisting about in his sleep. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Charlie, you’re having a dream,” I said. He threw off my hand and awoke with a jolt. He sat up on his bunk, his face covered in sweat, and looked about the dark barn.

  Frank asked, “You all right?”

  “Aye, just a nightmare,” he said and he ran his hands over his face and into his hair. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. We sat next to him and he expressed how it seemed so real. He explained that in his dream, the Eagle was in a fight with a corsair and they had hooked on to our ship and men were pouring onto the deck and slashing away at the crew. He ran to the other side of the ship, but there was nowhere to hide. A large man with long black hair and a full beard, ran toward him and was about to swing his cutlass when he stopped, reached down, and picked him up by his shirt. He pulled him close to his face, he smelled of rum and his breath was awful. The man had peculiar gray eyes that stabbed through him. He began to laugh at him, grabbed him by the hair, and dragged him over to a large chest that lay open on the deck. There was nothing in it and the man threw him into it and closed the lid. He heard the chest lock and began to beat and kick on the top to get it open. Several men were laughing and he felt the chest being picked up. “I heard the splash as the chest hit the water and I felt the pain in my shoulder and back as it hit. I was terrified, the panic was unbearable as I kicked and punched at the inside of the chest as hard as I could,” he said regretfully, his somber voice lowing to a whisper. “But it was no use and the water began to seep into the darkness of the chest—I could feel the cold water rising. The water was about to cover my mouth when I woke up and I was here.” He turned to me and said, “You promised, Clyde, you promised you would teach me.” Frank looked at us and said, “Teach what?”

  “Swimming,” I answered. Frank raised his eyebrows and looked at Charlie, then back at me, shook his head and exclaimed, “This should be interesting.”

  The morning fog burned off and revealed a cloudless blue sky. Charlene had told us where to find a pond that would be suitable and the afternoon became quite comfortable although the water was sure to be cold. The captain departed in the morning to contend with some duties, presumably to check on the ship and crew. Mrs. Campbell thought the idea of swimming in October to be ridiculous and told Charlene that swimming with boys was not ladylike. She was forbidden from going with us, so she gave us directions and we were on our way. Just as well I thought since it would be easier just to swim without clothing and put the dry clothes on afterward. We began to walk, following the directions that Charlene had told us. Charlie looked nervous and seemed to be looking for an excuse not go, saying, “Do you think I’ll be able to swim? Maybe today’s not such a good day to learn.” Frank replied, “You have courage enough to sail the ocean without knowing how to swim, you can certainly work this out!”

  “Besides,” I said, “We aren’t going to make you a skilled swimmer—just teach you enough to stay afloat.”

  Charlie started to bite his fingernails and asked, “Who taught you how to swim, Clyde?”

  “Why, my father,” I replied.

  He stated how he wished he knew his father. He was very young when his father passed. Then he asked Frank the same question and he told how his uncle had taught him. I realized that I was fortunate to have a father. I wondered what he was doing on that fall afternoon. “How come you never learned to swim?” I probed.

  Charlie just looked at me expressionless and asserted, “I didn’t know anyone to teach me. My brothers didn’t know either, they were always working anyway.”

  We walked up over a small rise near a clump of trees and saw the pond that Charlene had told us about. The pond was an oval shape of about forty to fifty feet in diamete
r. I stripped off my clothes and jumped in, the cold water nearly took my breath away. The water was murky and impossible to see more than a few inches. I could feel the muddy bottom of the pond with my feet near the sides, about four feet I guessed with the depth increasing further out toward the center. Frank quickly jumped in and swam out to the center before turning back next to me as we watched Charlie getting his feet in only about a foot of water.

  “It’s pretty cold!” he uttered. His pale skin revealed a prominent bruise on his right shoulder.

  “Brown Bess sure has a kick,” said Frank pointing at his bruise. Frank and I both had similar bruising from the musket we fired a few days ago.

  “Get in, Charlie, the waters not going to get any warmer!” I shouted.

  He reluctantly waded out to chest-high and I assured him he would be all right.

  “The most important thing is to relax,” I said. Then I explained how to float on your back with your arms extended and consistent breathing. Frank demonstrated as I told him how. Charlie did as he was told and was soon floating on his back. He got comfortable at exhaling a breath while his head was in the water and learned how to do a whip kick like a frog. Frank said, “Push your hands out together in front of you then part them as if you’re opening a curtain. Then pull the water into your chest and push back out again as you kick with your legs.” We spent about three hours in that cold pond teaching him how to float and move about. Before we departed, I said, “I think you’re good enough, Charlie. If you can stay afloat here—you certainly can in the ocean water. The salt makes it a little easier to stay afloat.” As we got dressed, Charlie expressed his gratitude by saying, “Thanks for helping me. I’m glad to have you both as friends.” The feeling was mutual. As we began to walk back to the Campbells’, Frank uttered, “Now that you can swim all you have to worry about is sharks!” I shook my head and gave out a sigh. We just spent several hours improving Charlie’s confidence and Frank decides now is the occasion to scare him a bit. Frank just laughed and happily led the way up the path back to the captain’s home. Charlie had a blank stare as if studying the words hanging in the air. Attempting to right the air, I said, “Don’t mind that, nobody gets eaten by sharks.” Frank turned and was just ready to say something when he caught my cold daring stare and decided it best to say nothing in reply.

  Captain Campbell was home when we got back to his house and he informed us that Captain Bainbridge would be joining us for supper. He arrived just after the sun began to disappear over the hills to the west. He wore his uniform and brought along a bouquet of flowers for Mrs. Campbell. We all sat down at the table and after the food was served, the captain gave thanks as he had done the previous nights. Captain Bainbridge exchanged pleasantries and although Mrs. Campbell was courteous, I noticed uneasiness in her disposition toward Captain Bainbridge. Her smile seemed artificial and the wrinkles in her forehead seemed a little deeper than what I had observed in the previous evenings. After supper, the captain said, “Would you all excuse Captain Bainbridge and I for a few moments. We will join you in the parlor in a while.” Mrs. Campbell stood up, all the men stood as well and she led the way to the parlor, followed by the girls, Frank, Charlie, and I. Maybelle quickly began clearing the table in her usual graceful custom. As I was departing, the captain said, “Wait just a moment, Clyde.” Captain Bainbridge took a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and the captain read it as I stood and waited for his instructions. “Please get my pouch in the parlor—it’s next to my chair.” I nodded and went to retrieve his pouch. Maybelle had already taken the dishes to the kitchen and Captain Bainbridge was talking when I came back in the room. “All I’m saying is we can protect the convoy and still hunt those French bastards, let’s end this, Hugh!” I handed the captain his pouch, he took out a map and positioned it on the table. Captain Campbell looked at me, smiled and said, “That will be all, Clyde, thank you.” I nodded and left the room.

  I could still hear them talking from the parlor doorway. Curiosity got the better of me as I trained to hear them without making it obvious that I was eavesdropping. Captain Bainbridge was saying, “Murray’s going to take the Montezuma and Norfolk forward in the convoy, if those corsairs don’t see any more warships, they will try to engage the stragglers. If they don’t see us, we can overtake

  them as they begin their attack!”

  The captain replied, “You mean use the merchantmen as bait to lure them in.”

  “Yes, we fall back to either flank, out of direct sight but maintaining visual from a lookout on the mast, once we spot the corsair, we can intercept before they reach the convoy.” Captain Campbell gave a few moments of thought, and then declared, “I don’t think Captain Murray will support the risk.”

  “He doesn’t have to know, we are still fulfilling our obligation to protect the convoy.”

  Just then, Frank, Charlie, and the girls broke out in laughter. Frank looked over at me and noticed I wasn’t laughing. He said, “Clyde, what are you doing? Come over here, Charlene was telling us a tale about a man whom they call Crabby, go ahead, Charlene, tell Clyde about Crabby.” Charlene began to tell her story again for my benefit. Mrs. Campbell was sitting in her chair knitting. She appeared apathetic to the story, but had the same concerned look as she had at supper. Frank, Charlie, and the girls listened with anticipation as if they might hear something different than they had already heard.

  “Mr. Kapply is a mean old man who lives down by the wharf and owns a fish market,” she began. “The kids call him Mr. Crabby and in the mornings, he would walk up and down the dock negotiating with fisherman for their catch. He hates children, so any encounter with them is sure to spark a few harsh words meant to ensure they depart the docks. One day some of the adolescents decided to play a trick on Mr. Crabby. As he was walking near a cart of fish on display, a boy with his hand inside a fish head, like a puppet, raised this fish head over the cart and with his hand moved the fish’s mouth as if the fish was speaking and said, ‘Do you see anything you like, Mr. Crabby?’ He turned white and fell over backward into a barrel of fish heads. The market erupted in laughter. Mr. Crabby got up cursing at all the children as they ran.”

  The group started to laugh again and Mrs. Campbell raised her eyebrows and said, “You leave Mr. Crabby…I mean Mr. Kapply alone.” Charlene accepted her mother’s admonishment and Charlie began to tell a story from his childhood in Virginia. Captain Campbell soon joined us along with Captain Bainbridge and Charlene was asked to play a tune on the piano. I had seen the piano in the parlor, but up till now, I did not know who played it since no one had done so. Charlene played superb to the delight of all who heard her.

  The following day was to be our last in Charleston before sailing and I needed to get a new pair of shoes since my current shoes had gotten very tight and I also needed a winter coat. Charlene went with us to the market along with her sister Mary under her care. With money in my pocket, I found a cobbler and he sold me a pair of shoes that fit me just right. I was also able to find a warm coat at another shop. Frank and Charlie both bought coats as well since we would certainly need them. I wanted to get something for Charlene to remember me by, so I broke away from the others. A blue scarf with a small starfish on it caught my eye and I thought it would look delightful on Charlene so I got it for her and put it in my pocket.

  That evening, Charlene took me outside of the house and said, “Clyde, I know you don’t have anyone to write you. Can I write to you?” I felt a flood of heat rush through my body and I tried to keep my enthusiasm hidden. My face felt hot so I’m sure it must be flush.

  “Yes, I would be delighted,” I replied. Then I said, “I have something for you. It’s not much, just something to remember me by until I see you again.” I gave her the scarf and she took it and hugged me. She put the scarf around her neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek before we went back inside the house.

  12

  Corsair Hunting

  As we sailed out of Charleston, I left happy
, happier than I had been in a long while. I was sailing on a ship full of my friends, and we felt invincible. Soon after sailing out with the convoy, the captain asked me to go and get Frank and Charlie. I found them up forward on the bow and walked back to the quarterdeck where we found the captain speaking with the officers. He motioned us over and said, “Boys, we are going to set a trap for the corsairs. I’m going to need you to take turns on watch at the top of the foremast.” At first, I thought the captain was joking then I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach as I realized he wasn’t. He must have noticed that Frank and Charlie had a pale look about them as I’m sure I did as well. He explained how the curvature of the earth would only allow us to see about four miles from the deck. However, the higher the vantage point, the further out you can see— like looking over a hill. “From the top of the foremast, you should be able to see to about twelve miles,” he asserted. “The shrouds only go to the platform,” he pointed up at the ladder of rope to the standing platform, “but I need vision beyond that. Since you boys are light, I need you to climb above the platform to the top gallant yard. From there, you should be able to see a couple of miles further than a man on the platform. Do you think you can do that?”

  We answered, “Aye.”

  I didn’t want to disappoint the captain, but I was not enthusiastic about this at all. I had climbed to the platform before, but never beyond that to the top mast. I kept telling myself that I could do it—I had to do it, afraid or not.

  The captain ordered the crew to shorten sails and we dropped back away from the convoy. Frank was first to climb the rat lines up the ladder, high on the foremast. He was given a telescope and instructed to keep watch on the mast of the merchantman. From the deck of the ship, no vessel could be seen. Frank yelled down that he could see the masts of the Retaliation off to starboard and the merchantman off the starboard bow. Periodically, the captain would ask Frank for a bearing by pointing to the merchantman.