--*--
Monday, December 19, 1864
A light frost covered the grass, and Charlie’s boots made the stiff blades crunch as he ran his morning route around the stables and the exercise rings behind them. The men had laid out various practice courses and several groups were already clustered around the drawings of the various jump patterns for the events. In the center of the largest exercise ring, some of the men were already sparring with saber and small sword. Some were practicing classic cavalry maneuvers, attempting to thrust a javelin through a small ring hanging from a swinging beam and using sabers to pick up rings from the ground, all while riding at a brisk clip.
Off in one corner of the main paddock, all of the company commanders, except Montgomery, were holding an impromptu conference of some sort. Casually and very quietly, Charlie walked up behind them curious as to how well his plans for inspiring both teamwork and a bit of good-natured competition within the regiment were going.
Braddock of Company H, and the only company commander who had served with Charlie on the western front, was holding forth to the others. "Look, we all want to win the honor of both the vanguard and the colors. That means we are going to have to get the men to work together, regardless of whether we are from the old 13th or the remnants of the 49th. And my Ohio boys are more than willing to do so. So tell me what I have to do to get these stiff necked Bucks County boys of yours to pull together."
Swallow, the most senior of the Pennsylvanians, stroked the pencil fine beard at the tip of his chin for a moment. "Well, you know Colonel Polk’s been working with Montgomery’s boys in Company D. He set up an internal review, where each man voted to decide which members of the company would compete in which events, the object being to put together the team that was best equipped to win the overall competition. You know what a mess Monty had left that company in. I swear, before Polk took them over, I was breaking up fights almost every night. He has them working together pretty well now."
The other members of the little conference nodded at Swallow’s advice. Hoffstader piped up, "Yes, it is working. I have had a good bit of luck with mixing up the teams that have been repairing the fencing. All it took for me was to find the thing we all had in common, and for my boys, taking care of the horses was the thing."
"Well, just being able to stay in the fight, especially after what the rebs did to us at the Wilderness, was enough for my boys. I swear, giving command to that upstart Wilson was the stupidest thing I ever saw." Major M’Cabe, who still had not completely healed from the grapeshot he had taken in the shoulder, spat to emphasize his disdain for the young, arrogant General who had led an entire division of Union cavalry into hell because he was too stubborn to take proper precautions.
Young Avery, who had taken command of Company I after the Wilderness campaign, looked glum. "Have you been watching the fellows from Company C? They are driving hard, every one of them. I swear, I think they need to prove something after both Monty and that idiot who called Mrs. Gaines a……." he trailed off, at a loss to repeat the insult. His companions relieved him of that burden by nodding sagely at him. "Anyway, I think they want to prove themselves. So they are all pushing hard."
Swallow and several of the other commanders laughed. "Yes, lad, that would be the kind of thing Polk would put them up to. Prove that Monty and his little clique were just that –– a little splinter group, and that the rest of them are good, God fearing, hard riding, well trained soldiers."
Maguire looked back and forth between Swallow and Braddock. "What about the Colonel? What do you think he will do? Will he play favorites, either for his old troops from Ohio or for Polk’s boys?"
Braddock laughed. "Lucky Charlie play favorites? That man has always been the most ‘‘by the book’ officer I have ever heard of. No, he will definitely not play favorites. But watch out. He has been known to compete personally in the individual events and he is absolutely deadly out there."
Swallow added, "I think the man could ride a horse through hell and back without breaking a sweat. And Tarent and MacFarlane both think he walks on water when it comes to horses."
Major Byrnes, ever the regiment’s black sheep, finally grew bored with this discussion. "Gentlemen, there are three days left before we all go out there and either prove we can stay on a horse or make asses of ourselves. What do you say to a little wager?"
Charlie smiled. His officers were on the right track, and where they went, he was sure the men would follow. Quietly, he slipped away. He had promised Duncan some private practice and pointers with the small sword.
--*--
The evening was crisp; the fire was warm. Elizabeth had gone to bed early after a particularly trying day. Two of the men, practicing for the gymkhana’s mounted lance competition, had managed to overextend themselves. The result was two broken legs, one broken arm, and a number of bruises. MacFarlane and Tarent were both unhappy as well, as two horses were decidedly upset. Not injured, just upset.
Charlie, had spent the day alternating between writing extensive dispatches to Sheridan about Montgomery and the related problems within his command, and working with the men as they practiced. He was tired, but edgy and not yet ready for sleep. More to the point, he had finally realized that Christmas was a week away and he did not know gift he should get for Rebecca.
The two of them sat together in the back parlor sharing an after dinner coffee and brandy, as well as the details of their respective days. Charlie obliquely broached the subject he was most concerned with.
"Say, did you know that some of the men have been making toys and such for the refugee and neighborhood children?"
"That is very sweet. I am sure the children will be delighted with some new toys. Em discovered an old rag doll of mine a few days ago and refuses to give it up."
"I saw it clutched in her arms when I went in to say goodnight. She is very cute with it. Does it have a name?"
She laughed, nearly loosing her brandy through her nose. "I am afraid I was never very talented in that respect as a child. Mother always told me I called it 'doll'. Em however has christened it, Em. Quite original I think."
Charlie laughed. "Ah, yes, she is certainly the center of her own universe, is she not?"
"I do believe that you also share that special place in her heart. She loves you so much."
"And I love her." Charlie looked at his lady almost shyly. "But you, my heart, are at the center of my universe."
"And you are mine, love." She placed her glass down and took his hand. "Are you tired yet? You have had a very long day."
"Not yet, love. I just need to spend a little time with you. It was a rather harrowing day. I am more tense than tired, I fear." He took a sip of brandy. "I have obtained some lengths of good sound worsted and thought they might make good Christmas gifts for the ladies."
"Oh yes, that will be very nice indeed. Some of these ladies have not had anything new in a very long time. I must say, Charlie, I think that Christmas is going to turn out to be wonderful this year."
"And what of you, my love? What would you like for Christmas?"
"I honestly had not given it any thought. I am just glad to have you here with me. But I suppose, knowing you as well as I do, if I do not give you an answer, you will never rest. So, let us see, it is too late to do anything about it now, but maybe next year we could replace my mother's piano."
"You play, my love? I do enjoy listening to piano music. It is so soothing. What happened to your mother's piano?"