Charlie considered himself fortunate. He had only three letters to write home to parents, wives and families announcing the death of a loved one.
--*--
Charlie walked through the field hospital that Elizabeth and Samuelson had set up on the heights above Sailor’s Creek. He stopped and talked to a number of men, encouraging them, congratulating them on their accomplishments. Finally, he just stood and waited as Elizabeth finished treating the last –– and least seriously hurt –– of the wounded.
She stood there in the makeshift surgery tent, bloodied to the elbows, her dress covered with a piece of bloodstained canvas pinned on as an apron. For a few moments, the only people in the tent were Elizabeth and Charlie. Silently, he went to her, put his arms around her and let her lean on his shoulder.
Finally, she gathered herself, only to let go with a tirade of magnificent proportions. "God damn it, Charlie! What the bloody hell happened? I had to dig our own canister shot out of those boys."
"I am so sorry, Elizabeth. Dewees broke formation early; it put the men in the path of the first rounds while artillery was getting their range."
"So what about you, Charlie? You put a green commander in the vanguard. How stupid was that?"
"I put Company D in the vanguard because they won the right at the gymkhana and I could not go back on my word to them. Dewees has been in service since the beginning; I thought he would have better sense."
"Well, see to it that he somehow manages to follow orders in the future or he is going to get more men killed. We were damned lucky as it was. I have a couple of critical cases but only three deaths so far is not bad. You tell that little idiot from me that he is responsible for the loss of a total of seventeen arms, nine legs and God know how many horses."
"I will. I will also see to it that he personally manages the disposal of the limbs." Charlie took a deep breath. He had more bad news to deliver. "You realize that we are now in the midst of a running battle?"
"Yes, I assume we are going to chase them down. Samuelson and I are as ready as we can be."
"Thank you, Elizabeth. I will send Dewees to you shortly. You have my permission to flay him as much as you like."
Charlie turned to leave. As he reached the tent flap, Elizabeth called out. "Charlie? Take care of yourself. You have four people who really need you to go home when this is over."
He nodded and walked out.
--*--
Charlie sent Duncan to fetch Dewees. As he waited in his tent, he started a letter home. Before he had gotten past the first couple of lines, the Captain knocked.
"Enter."
Dewees came in and stood at ramrod attention. Charlie said nothing to relieve his tension.
"So. What the hell do you have to say for yourself?"
"Sir, I allowed my eagerness to get the better of me, Sir."
Charlie stood up and moved to stand directly in front of the man. Less than two inches separated their noses. In an icy tone, Charlie began. "You let your stupidity get the better of you. You disobeyed a direct order –– issued three times, no less. I could have your ass before a firing squad this evening for that alone. But no, that was not enough. You knew we had artillery that needed to get a range on their shot. But you let our men ride into their field of fire." By now, Charlie was spraying spit with each word. "You have one third of your company down with injuries on the first day of what we know will be a hard running battle. There are twenty-six limbs and nine horses that need to be disposed of properly." Charlie’s voice had been rising with each word. He was now yelling outright, something he almost never did. "You will personally see to it. And tomorrow morning, you will report to me in person before a single man of your company moves a foot. Dismissed!"
Dewees scurried from the tent on his way to do the onerous duty Charlie had assigned him, and then to talk to his men about being too eager.
Jocko and Richard entered together. Charlie sighed and put aside his barely begun letter home.
"Yes, gentlemen?"
Richard spoke first. "How shall I order the men, Charlie? Do we march tomorrow?"
"I do not have Sheridan’s orders yet, but I suspect we do. This has all the earmarks of a running battle."
"All right. I will order fast rations, have them get what sleep they can and be ready to move at dawn."
Charlie nodded, tired and distracted with thoughts of what the next few days might bring. It was only going to get worse. Richard hurried out to see to the men.
Jocko spoke up. "A courier just arrived from Sheridan’s command. He requests your presence in a half hour. I grabbed some bread and ham for you, and have a fresh horse ready."
Charlie sighed, slumped in his chair and closed his eyes. He had gotten less than two hours of sleep the night before; it looked as though tonight would be no better. "If you have a fresh horse, I assume that Jack is still lame."
"Yes, I am afraid so. He is doing better, but I would not ask him to carry you yet."
"Well, give him a carrot and a pet for me. I will be back whenever I can get back. Is Duncan ready to ride with me?"
"Waiting outside the tent. Charlie, do you need……"
"I need this war to be over. I need to be home. I need some sleep. But you cannot give me any of those things, old friend. Keep the lamp burning; I am going to need some rest before we march tomorrow."
--*--
Friday, April 7, 1865
Charlie rose before dawn, having gotten to bed sometime around midnight. He knew that the day would be hard. Sheridan had ordered the two cavalry forces –– his and Custer’s –– to ride south and west, circumventing the main body of Lee’s forces, to take and hold the rail line from Roanoke to Appomattox. There was one objective –– to prevent Lee from receiving his supplies and thereby stop him from getting to North Carolina.
Richard and Charlie met over the early morning coffee pot. It was so early that the only light was from the low burning fires and a few torches. False dawn had yet to light the sky.
"So, Charlie, where do we go today?"
"We ride at dawn for the western part of Appomattox County –– some place called Appomattox Station. We are back on railroad detail –– and damn it, this time that glory hound Custer is in command."
"Custer? My God, Charlie –– that man is plain dangerous."
"I know. I spent a good bit of last night listening to him complain about how his boys missed out on the action since he simply flanked Ewell’s forces and we had to face Gordon head on."
Richard thought for a moment. "You know, Charlie, I have always wondered about something."
"Yes?"
"You have more experience than he does and to be honest, more success in the field. Yet he has climbed the ladder more quickly than you. Why did you avoid the politics?"
Charlie took a long drink from his coffee mug, regarding his old friend and wondering if Richard had started to become suspicious about Charlie’s secret. "I am just a soldier, up from the ranks. You know as well as I do just how nasty the politics are, Richard, so I just did my job, kept my head down and stayed out of the games that McClellan and Custer and those fellows play. Taking care of my men is enough for me."
Richard slapped Charlie on the shoulder. "And you do a damned fine job. I have learned more from you than from any other officer in the Army, I believe. Now, what is on for today?"
"We need to move quickly. Assign one of the companies to stay behind to escort the supplies and wounded; they must follow us as quickly as they can. Oh, hell. Since most of the wounded are Dewees’, assign him. Have Raiford be temporarily assigned to Company A. He does not deserve to lose his position as color bearer just because Dewees was an ass."
"Good idea. And Swallow at least knows what he is doing."
"We move at dawn. Let us get to it."