by Ginny Dye
Carrie nodded decisively. “Exactly.” She settled down on the edge of her bed. “What do you want to do when this war is over?” She had put off this discussion for a while, but it was time.
Georgia stared at her and then shrugged. “I haven’t looked much past being a soldier.”
“I know you may continue to pass as a man,” Carrie said gently, though she had doubts Georgia could pull it off when people were paying attention and not just seeing a soldier because they were so desperately needed. Now that Georgia was putting on some weight, her true beauty was shining through. Carrie had decided she didn’t need to voice her skepticism; she just needed to offer Georgia an opportunity. “This war won’t last forever.”
“Things going bad?” Georgia asked sharply.
“Right now General Lee is holding Grant back, but things are going badly around the rest of the country.” Carrie took a deep breath. “It’s just a matter of time, Georgia. The South doesn’t have enough men or guns or money to win this war.”
Protest sparked in Georgia’s eyes, and then she closed them for a moment. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I genuinely like you. You may go back to fight when you’re well, but when the war ends you will have to figure out how to live in a brand new world.” Carrie reached out to take Georgia’s hand. “Do you know how to read?”
“Read?” Georgia echoed. “Now you got me totally confused. What’s reading got to do with anything?”
“Do you know how to read?” Carrie repeated patiently.
“Never saw no use for it,” Georgia said defiantly. “Didn’t need reading to plant crops and bring in a harvest. Me and Jimmy never had a chance to go to school. We did just fine.”
“Janie and I want to teach you how to read,” Carrie responded, holding up her hand before Georgia could protest. “Whatever you decide to do after the war, reading will help you. It will help you if you decide to live as a man. It will definitely help you if you decide to live as a woman because it will open doors you can’t imagine right now.”
“I don’t see no reason…”
Carrie interrupted her. “My father had to fight my mother for my education. I broke all the rules and taught Rose how to read. Then Rose had a secret school in the woods on the plantation, so she could teach our slaves how to read and write.” She paused and stared into Georgia’s eyes. “Reading opens up a whole new world, Georgia. It means that no one, neither man nor woman, can take advantage of you because you’re ignorant.”
“Why are you willing to teach me how to read, Carrie?” Georgia asked suddenly. “Ain’t that a lot of work?”
“You’re smart,” Carrie said with a smile. “I don’t think it will take too long, but it’s more than that….” She stared out the window for a minute. “I don’t believe anything happens by accident. You were meant to end up in my ward. I was meant to know your secret and bring you home. And I believe we’re meant to help you learn how to read while you’re here.”
“Amen!” Janie strolled into the room and headed straight for the water pitcher. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” She washed off her face, drank a large glass of water, and then turned to Georgia. “I still remember the thrill of learning how to read. I was a teenager before I learned.”
Carrie gasped. “I didn’t know that!”
Janie nodded easily. “My father wasn’t strong enough, like your father was, to fight my mother. She believed education would make me less desirable to the boys she thought I should marry. I finally took things into my own hands when I was fifteen and found someone to teach me how to read in secret. It was the greatest thrill of my life when all the letters finally made sense.”
Georgia smiled. “I reckon it would be nice to have the letters make sense,” she murmured and then nodded her head. “When do we start?”
Carrie and Janie laughed and replied in unison, “Tonight!”
Carrie reached down to pull Georgia up. “After we have dinner.”
“May will bring it up to me soon,” Georgia replied, her eyes confused again.
Carrie shook her head. “You’re well enough to join us downstairs. You’re part of our family now. Let’s go eat some dinner.”
“I ain’t got no clothes,” Georgia gasped. “Just this gown from the hospital.”
“Sure you do,” Janie said, grinning. “I got you some the other day.”
“I ain’t putting on no dress,” Georgia protested, her eyes flashing.
“A dress would look strange on a man,” Janie agreed calmly as she reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. “They might be a little large, but I think they’ll fit pretty well.”
Georgia grinned and reached for them. “Why are you two doing this for me?” she asked suddenly. “Most women would be appalled that I’m living as a man. They sure wouldn’t be giving me men’s clothing!”
Carrie turned serious. “How you live your life is up to you, Georgia. All I’ve ever wanted is for people to give me freedom to live my own life without making me feel bad about my choices, no matter how much they may disagree. “
Janie nodded her agreement. “I sure am hungry. Can we go eat now?”
Minutes later the three of them entered the dining room.
The table was crowded with people since all the boarders had joined them for dinner. Georgia looked panicked, only relaxing when Carrie instantly introduced her as George and let everyone know he was convalescing in a spare room in their wing of the house until he could return to the army. Thomas, Janie, and May were the only ones who needed to know the truth. There was hardly a house in Richmond that didn’t have a wounded soldier.
Carrie headed straight to Jeremy after the introductions and gave him a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re home safely.”
“Was it horrible?” Janie asked, her gaze including three of their boarders who had also been called to duty when Butler headed up the James River.
“Well, the food wasn’t too good,” Jeremy replied, “but other than that, we could probably have all stayed home, and Richmond would have been just fine.”
“So it’s true,” Thomas said with a chuckle.
Jeremy nodded. “If every Union general was like their General Butler, we would have won this war a long time ago.”
Thomas answered Carrie’s unspoken questions, addressing the whole table. “General Butler headed up the river with thirty thousand men. If he had come straight through and attacked, he probably could have taken the city, or at least opened the way for Grant to sweep in. We quite simply didn’t have enough men to stop him.”
“Why didn’t he?” Janie asked.
“We may never know the answer to that,” Thomas replied. “We can all just be grateful.”
“I never even got to fire a rifle,” Jeremy complained, but then smiled his delight. “By the time Butler’s men got around to trying to do anything, General Beauregard had arrived. He managed to pull together twenty thousand veteran soldiers, and sent us all home.”
Carrie glanced around the table at the other three boarders who had been called up. All of them looked as relieved as Jeremy. Their years in Richmond’s government offices had done nothing to prepare them for fighting.
“Did Butler finally have enough guts to put up a fight?” George demanded.
“Two days ago,” Thomas informed him. “I can’t say he was the one to put up the fight though. Beauregard went after him pretty hard and pushed him back to Bermuda Hundred. Butler’s troops took heavy losses.”
“So did we,” Carrie added, determined the whole story be told. “Beauregard’s men were successful, but I treated several of them today. One of them was with a brigade that suddenly stumbled into a whole trap of telegraph wires strung all over the field.”
“Telegraph wires?” George echoed. “You mean they set up a booby trap?”
Carrie nodded grimly. “Nobody could see them because the fog was so heavy. Our men fell over them. When they tried to stand bac
k up, they were shot down.” She took a deep breath. “The man I treated this morning lost his right leg.”
Silence settled over the table as her words reminded them any good news came with a solid dose of bad news and reality.
George was the first to break it. “Has Lee drove the Yankees away from Spotsylvania yet?”
“From what I can tell from the reports, Grant is still hanging around, but after the Bloody Angle, he is surely going to decide he can’t win there either,” Jeremy responded.
“The Bloody Angle?” George asked.
“Grant decided to go after our army when they were solidly in the entrenchments. From what we can tell, it was the longest sustained fighting of the war – close to twenty-four hours of hand-to-hand combat,” Thomas explained. “Our lines held, but there was a heavy price to pay.”
Carrie pressed her lips together tightly and exchanged a long look with Janie. Ambulance wagons were still arriving with men from that battle.
“I think this fighting has taught the Yankees some lessons,” Thomas said grimly. “I believe Grant has learned the futility of winning a battle against us in an untracked forest. I also believe he is figuring out that he cannot take Lee in trench warfare once our general, who is also an excellent engineer, has gotten our troops dug in.”
George listened closely. “So General Lee is winning?” he asked hopefully.
Thomas took a deep breath and seemed to choose his words carefully. “As much as I would like to say he is, I don’t think I would go that far.”
When he hesitated again, Jeremy added, “I think the best you can say is that at this point we seem to be reaching a stalemate. Neither side can truly say it has won or lost.”
Carrie flushed angrily. “How can you say that?” she exclaimed, her green eyes snapping fire. “Over twelve thousand soldiers are either dead or wounded. More than eight thousand have been captured, or they are missing. I hear the numbers are even higher for the Union side.” She allowed her scathing look to touch everyone at the table. “I believe I would say both sides have indeed lost.”
Suddenly, she just couldn’t hear any more. Her attempts to hang on to the promise of the rainbow that she had tucked into her heart were failing. Blinking back hot tears she pushed back from the table and fled up the stairs.
Chapter Ten
Moses shifted his body and stretched out his exhausted legs. He and his men had been marching in blistering heat all day. He’d heard that men who arrived earlier had attacked the trenches, briefly overrun them, and then were pushed back by a strong counterattack.
“Hey, Moses?”
Moses managed a smile for the wiry boy he had discovered was only sixteen. Having run away from his plantation in Georgia, he had come north, determined to fight. “Yes, Clay?”
“You know where we be? These here woods and fields all startin’ to look de same to me.”
“The word is that we’re near Cold Harbor. General Sheridan’s cavalry took it yesterday.”
“If they done took it, what we doin’ here?”
“I imagine Grant figures he can cut around Lee’s army and open the way for us to move into Richmond.”
“You figure he’s right?” Clay asked.
“I have no idea,” Moses answered honestly. “I sure hope he is, though.” He didn’t add how much he wanted the war to be over.
“We don’t seem no closer than when we started,” Clay said dubiously.
That brought a chuckle from Moses. “I’d say you’re right. The one thing I know, though, is that we can’t see the big picture from where we are. Grant and the generals know things we have no way of knowing. We have to trust them and follow their orders,” he said confidently, knowing the best gift he had to give his men was confidence; whether it was justified or not, whether he believed it or not.
“Yeah,” Clay said thoughtfully. “I reckon that be the truth.” He paused and stared out into the rapidly approaching darkness. “When you reckon the next orders comin’?
“They’ll come when they come,” Moses responded. “The best thing you can do is get some rest. When they come, we’ll have to be ready.”
The boy turned to move away, but Moses stopped him. “Make sure you and the rest of the men have tagged your jackets.”
Clay nodded soberly. He knew what that meant. Those who could write were to write their names on slips of paper and then sew them to their coats so they could be identified if there was a need.
The Union orders came about thirty-six hours later while darkness and dense fog lay over the ground. During those thirty-six hours what had been a small force of Rebel infantry had been able to reinforce their position and bring more troops in.
“Get your men ready, Moses!”
Moses snapped to attention when Captain Jones rode up into the foggy darkness. “Yes, sir!” Captain Jones rode closer and hesitated. Moses moved closer. “Something else, Captain?”
“It’s been a rough month for your men.”
“Yes, sir.” Moses tried to block out the faces of almost one hundred men who had not made it out of the battles.
“They’ve fought well. Please let them know I’m proud of them.”
Moses straightened a little more. “Thank you, Captain. That will mean a lot to them.”
“We’re going to win this thing, you know.”
Moses smiled grimly. “It’s what keeps us fighting, Captain. We’ve got to win this war.”
Captain Jones hesitated again.
Moses gripped his rifle tightly. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not feeling good about today,” Captain Jones finally admitted.
“It’s going to be a bad one,” Moses agreed heavily.
“You feel it too?”
“Have been ever since we arrived. We’ve already learned what happens when we go against Lee’s entrenchments. Combine it with hilly, woody terrain…” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a very bad day.”
Captain Jones said nothing but reached down and gripped Moses’ hand for a long moment. “I’ll see you when it’s over.”
Moses managed a smile. “Yes, sir!
The order to attack came moments later.
Moses and his men raced straight into Hell.
Matthew struggled to breathe, torn between fury and sickening pity for the soldiers lying in piles on the field stretched out before him and Peter.
“But… aren’t they going to help them?” Peter gasped. “The army can’t just leave them there. It’s been two days…” His voice trailed off, fatigue and misery etched into every line of his face.
“Seems Lee didn’t like the way Grant worded his letter requesting a truce, so he denied it,” Matthew snapped.
“But those men…”
“Grant sent a letter requesting a truce. He tried very hard to make it sound as if both sides needed time to retrieve their casualties. Lee responded that he didn’t have any.”
“But….”
Matthew turned around and glared at Peter. He knew he was directing his anger at the wrong person, but he had to vent it somehow. “As long as there is fighting, Grant won’t send anyone out there to get those men. More will be shot!”
“But listen to them,” Peter protested. “There are thousands of men who have been crying out for water and help for the last two days. I can’t even imagine how they’re suffering.”
Matthew’s stomach rolled as the cries continued unabated. His dreams the last two nights had been full of confused eyes begging someone to help them, not to leave them out there to suffer and die.
“The whole thing should have never happened,” he said hoarsely, his eyes burning from the heat and smoke and stench of decaying bodies. “They never stood a chance.”
“Do you think the numbers are true?”
Matthew nodded grimly. “We lost eight thousand men in less than an hour, most of them in the first ten minutes. I can’t bring myself to call it a bat
tle.”
“It was a slaughter,” Peter said heavily. “I’ve seen horrible things in the last three years, but I’ve never seen anything like this.” He stared out over the field. “I hope to never see anything like it again.”
Matthew was still furious. “I just wish the men who ordered those poor soldiers to attack those entrenchments were out there with them. Instead, they stay far behind, knowing they have plenty of men to sacrifice for the cause.” He made no attempt to hide his bitterness. He finally groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I hate this war!”
Two hours later when darkness had swallowed the sight of the suffering soldiers, if not their cries, Matthew was startled by steady movement out onto the battlefield. “Who goes there?” he called sharply, hating the job that made it necessary for him to document such atrocities.
“We’s just goin’ out to get our friends,” came a quiet voice. “We figure we gots a better chance in the dark.”
Matthew held up his lantern and stared at the black soldier, really nothing but a boy, looking back at him defiantly. “No one has called a truce.”
“No, I reckon they ain’t, but that ain’t stoppin’ their sufferin’ none,” the soldier replied evenly. Then he peered closer at Matthew. “You’re that journalist fella I met back on the river,” he said.
Matthew nodded. He had met hundreds of soldiers.
“Moses know you up here?”
Matthew straightened. “You’re one of Moses’ men?”
“Yes’suh.” He turned to stare out onto the field. “Moses already be out there. Said he’s sick of losin’ his men and aims to do what he can to save some of them. I reckon I be goin’ to help.”
“But there are thousands of men out there,” Peter protested. “How are you going to find them?”
“We knows ‘bout where we made our attack. We’s gonna look in that area. Ain’t so many black. It make it a mite easier to find ‘em. We reckon anyone we hauls outta there be real grateful.”
