--*--
They rode hard for most of the day. It would not have taken so long, but for two distinct challenges. The first was the need to move around the main body of Lee’s forces and get ahead of them. Lee’s infantry and artillery slowed the progress of his forces of around thirty thousand men, but they still covered a good bit of territory. The second was a more difficult problem. Men were deserting from the Confederate forces by the score –– they simply left their companies and started walking home. Charlie and his men kept running into bunches of these dispirited souls on the back roads they were traveling. The first few times, things were tense. But Charlie and his men quickly realized the deserters presented no real threat.
The third bunch of ragged men they came across was trying to roast a couple of skinny rabbits they had caught. Charlie looked at these half starved, exhausted souls and immediately ordered Duncan to find them a ham and some bread.
They rode on, and by around three o’clock, reached a little train station in the middle of nowhere.
Charlie met with Custer while the men set up a makeshift overnight camp.
"Well, Redmond. If we are fortunate, we will see some action tomorrow."
"General, if we are fortunate, we will manage a surrender tomorrow. The less bloodshed, the better."
"Oh, Redmond, where is your sporting sense? Oh, yes, some men might get hurt, but that is part of the risk of war. You might say, the price of glory."
"General Custer, you and I have a different perception of the glory, as you call it, of battle. Particularly battle against men I have known for twenty years, whom I fought beside in Mexico, and who I now see as tired, dispirited, and hungry. General, they are already defeated. We now have only to complete the inevitable with as much dignity and honor as possible."
"Well, sir, I can see your point of view. I still want to write my name on at least one more battle in this conflict. Therefore, tomorrow, my brigade will take the lead. We will set the forward scouts, with the objective of taking, and if necessary destroying, any supply trains intended to relieve the rebels. You will serve as our reserves, and as defense against any effort by Lee’s vanguard from the east."
"Yes, Sir. My men will provide as much support as you require. Sergeant Nailer, who you have already met, will serve as my personal courier."
The two men examined the maps and scouting reports and determined details of deployment for the following day. Charlie then returned to camp, decidedly disturbed at Custer’s attitude, but grateful that he might actually be able to get some sleep that night.
--*--
Charlie established camp in a protected site halfway between the isolated train station and the nearby town of Appomattox Courthouse. It had an area, sheltered from northern winds by a low rise of hills, which was ideal for Elizabeth’s medical staff, and was on high ground that could be easily defended from raiders. Around sundown, Elizabeth, escorted by Company D, arrived at the camp. The more severely wounded had been transferred to the main hospital facilities within Grant’s army; only the walking wounded traveled with the contingent. Charlie rode to meet them.
"Well, Dewees, how was the trip here?"
"Uneventful, sir. We received orders from General Merritt to let the rebel deserters go their way, though we passed several groups of them."
"And the injured? Did they make the trip well?"
"You will have to ask Dr. Walker, Sir. I have not checked on them recently."
"Then you shall come with me and do so now, sir. Your first duty as an officer is to tend to the care of your men."
"Yes, sir." Dewees hung his head. Clearly, the qualities of leadership he had learned from Montgomery were not up to the standards of this career officer. He wondered what else he had done wrong.
--*--
That evening, Charlie and Richard met to go over the plans for the next day. They split the force, putting Richard and half the men facing back to the east to guard against any surprise by Lee’s vanguard. The other half were ranged to the west, to support Custer in the event he had problems with the escorts for the expected supply trains.
Having briefed each company commander on his duties for the following day, Charlie finally managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour. He literally dropped into bed like a sack of flour and fell into a deep sleep. The past few days had taken their toll. Rebecca’s letter, started two days earlier, would just have to wait another day.
--*--
Saturday, April 8, 1865
The ground was soft; it had rained the night before. Charlie’s mount, one of the reserve horses, was not as sure footed as Jack. Before the sun was high, Charlie thought his tailbone was going to crack.
It was quiet for much of the morning. They rode circuits up and down the rail line, looking for any sign of a train, not expecting anything as Custer’s men were ahead of them further down the line.
Just before lunchtime, a messenger came riding in from Custer’s command post. "Move up, we have a major problem."
Charlie signaled Duncan, who had learned the basic bugle calls, to signal the men to move forward at all speed. As they rode, Charlie asked the courier what the problem was.
"They have guns, sir. No infantry that we can see, but howitzers to guard the train. They have General Custer’s men pinned down."
Charlie rode up to where Custer and his officers were huddled behind a rise, discussing the problem. It was artillery against cavalry –– a situation that no one had ever faced before.
"The 13th reporting, Sir." Charlie rode up to the group of officers milling around Custer.
"How many men do you have riding with you, General?" Custer looked almost gleeful. He had a battle on his hands.
"I have about five hundred mounted, sir. The other half of the regiment is providing protection against an attack from the main body of the Lee’s forces."
Custer stroked his little goatee. "That should be enough. This is what I want, Redmond. I will use the main body of my troops to hold their attention. I want your men to flank them and press them up against the rail lines. If you can get behind them before they can turn the guns, it should be fairly simple. We have word that General Walker is commanding. He does not have a history of being able to respond rapidly."
Charlie slipped up to the top of the hill to survey the situation. A supply train was stopped on the tracks, with light artillery on either side serving as escort. To the far right, there was a line of trees, with about five hundred feet of clear pasture on a slight uphill slope. Charlie looked very carefully. If he could get behind the trees without being detected, he had a chance of coming up behind the artillery. On the other hand, if his troopers were detected too early, and one or more of the guns could be turned, there would be a bloodbath. Fortunately, since half the guns were deployed on the other side of the train, it might not be too difficult if Custer could keep the gunners occupied while they got in position.
He returned to the cluster of officers. "Yes, Sir. Give us about a half an hour to get into position."
The conference with his company officers was tense and terse. Each trooper dismounted and carefully wrapped his horse’s hooves to help keep them silent. The men slipped behind the tree line, a few at a time.
It looked good. But as they broke from the woods to charge the Confederate’s flank, the end gunner swung his howitzer around and let loose with a round of deadly canister shot. Even though the shot was undirected, the effect was devastating, spraying a rain of Minnie balls into Charlie’s charging troops.
The blast kicked up a fountain of dirt, mixing fragments of the canister casing, the balls inside the casing and a cloud of rock pieces and dirt up into the faces of the charging men.
Charlie saw Raiford and the flag go down. Young Lieutenant Swallow snatched the banner up and the men charged forward. An instant later, Charlie’s horse stumbled and fell, a ball embedded in his chest. Charlie grabbed a stray horse, not knowing if the rider had fallen to the shot or if he had just been unseated when the horse shied from the flying debris. It did not matter at that moment.