January Dawn

by Cody Lennon

  I entered the room and snapped to attention directly in front of the desk with the click of my boots announcing my presence.

  General Gammon sat with his back to us, leaning against the corner of his desk. He was examining a map of the Confederacy that was taped to a chalkboard. Elroy stood at ease by the door.

  “At ease, Tennpenny.” Gammon got up, came around to the front side of his desk and leaned against it again. He crossed his arms and said, “I want you to tell me exactly what happened last night.”

  I started from the moment we were dumped on the side of the road. I explained how Alex and I bumped into Pike and Shannon and how we ambushed the Humvee and how we heard screams for help. I told him that I saw Teague sitting on top of Carrigan, beating her, and told him what Drill Sergeant Quinn had said to us. Throughout my testimony, Gammon merely nodded without emotion. He seemed cross when I finished. The corner of his mouth arched downwards in disgust.

  “I’m glad you showed up when you did. Otherwise, it could have been worse. I had a long conversation with Private Carrigan about the matter. She seems to be fine. I’ll have her checked out by a doctor as a precaution nonetheless. As for the accused instigators, Drill Sergeant Quinn has been relieved of his position. He’ll spend the remainder of the war at the front. The two attackers that ran off have yet to be identified, but I assure you, when I find out who they are, they will be dealt with accordingly. As for Corporal Teague…well, that’s a whole nother story.” Gammon scratched the back of his neck with a flare of frustration. “It’s a vile crime that he committed. Despicable, frankly. He deserves to be facing a court martial right now. Instead, all I can do is strip him of his rank. I’ll bump Redman up to platoon leader.”

  “Sir?” I asked, appalled at this strange turn of events.

  “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but my hands are tied.” He opened his mouth to say something, but held it back and paused, “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room. Do you understand?” He went from being visibly upset to downright serious in a flash.

  “Yes sir.”

  “I would like to see Teague thrown in the stockade as much as you do right now, but the higher powers that be have deemed that unnecessary. Some of the top brass have their eyes on him. Teague’s a disgusting human being, but also a helluva soldier, and there is a tug-of-war match going on right now between multiple higher agencies that are vying for possession of him. Now, this goes way above my head Tennpenny, and I’m not happy about it at all.”

  “The military is not what it used to be. We lack the gall that we had back in the day. Honor and valor was the mantra that we fought by. As an officer you were a member of the elite. It was a prestigious distinction that shared its weight in honor and responsibility. Now, pfft…now, there’s a bunch of half-wit morons in the top brass that care about nothing but themselves and do nothing but bring shame down upon this great country and its military traditions. They are driving this country into the dirt, do you see that? There’s only a few of us old dogs left. It’s all about politics now. The military is rife with political brown-nosers and not enough real, hard-ass officers.”

  The veins in Gammon’s neck bulged as he slammed his fist down onto his desk.

  “Our President is an imbecile. I served alongside that scoundrel back in the day, did you know that? Redman’s father too. We graduated from the military college and moved up in rank together. Silas Redman is a good man. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” Gammon retreated into the recesses of his mind.

  After a moment of silence, Gammon moved from his desk and signaled me to follow him, “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the map.

  “Do you understand this map?” That’s a strange question to ask. But I nodded anyway.

  “This here is Richmond,” he said, pointing to a spot near the top right corner of the Confederacy. It had two little flags pinned on it, one red and one blue. “Richmond is our nation’s capital. It’s a beautiful city with a proud history, but I digress. At the beginning of the war, we moved the entire government out of Richmond and relocated them to Montgomery, Alabama. Our boys have been fighting for that city tooth and nail for twenty-one months now. It’s the poster child of our national honor. If we lose that city, the people will lose their will to fight.” Gammon lit a cigar he had sitting on his desk and puffed out a blue cloud of smoke.

  “We are holding pretty strong there at the moment, but elsewhere we aren’t doing so well. The U.S. has started skirmishes out in our western states. They send enough forays across the border to keep us on our toes, but the main fighting is taking place here in the east. In Tennessee and Missouri we are being pushed back a few miles a day. We’re spread too damn thin there to do anything but delaying actions.” With the cigar wedged between his fingers, Gammon swiped his hand down the right side of the map, tracing the coastline. “The entire Atlantic coast from Virginia on down to the southern tip of Florida belongs to Uncle Sam. They’ve been hovering off the coast for some time now, waiting for an opportunity to strike. And our Navy can’t do a damn thing about it, because they’re holding up down here in the Gulf of Mexico. We’ve lost command of the sea, we’re losing air superiority and our ground forces are dwindling. Do you understand why I’m telling you this, son?”

  “Not exactly, sir.” It was a lot to take in.

  “The President wants to fight out this conflict to the very end. That’s a mistake. This country won’t survive. Best case scenario is that we would last until Christmas. Worst case scenario would see Montgomery being overrun by the end of summer. And that seems more and more likely as the intelligence reports keep coming in, detailing some sort of attack along the eastern seaboard. If I was in charge, we’d be singing a different tune right now.”

  Gammon put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed with an iron-like grip.

  “Son, its young men like you that will help save this country.”

  “How, sir?”

  “Stay true to yourself and to your country. Keep doing what you are doing and you could be very useful to me down the road.” What did he mean by that? Stay true to myself?

  “Drill Sergeant Elroy keeps me up to date on everything that goes in First Platoon. He’s seen some flashes of brilliance in you, Tennpenny. And based upon what I’ve seen, I believe you’ll make a good officer someday.” An officer? I don’t want to be an officer.

  “I aint no leader, sir.”

  “There are many different types of leaders, son. You don’t have to be a mean, tough son of a bitch like me or Drill Sergeant Elroy. You don’t even have to be good with words. You can inspire others through your actions. What you do defines what kind of person you are. Do you know who you are Private Tennpenny?”

  There’s that question again. Why does everyone keep asking me that?

  “Not yet, sir,” I said in all honesty.

  “I think you underestimate yourself.” Gammon almost spoke softly. “You’ve done things that have gotten you to where you are today. Those actions helped shape who you are.”

  He paused to let me ponder what he said. There was something that he was trying to hint at that I couldn’t quite catch on too.

  “One more thing before I dismiss you. I want you to stand at attention over here and I don’t want you to say or do anything, understood?” He gestured to the side of his office by the window.

  “Yes sir.”

  What’s this about?

  Outside, the sky had opened up again and fat rain drops tapped against the window. General Gammon stepped behind his desk and gave a nod to Elroy. He came back in a minute later escorting in the one person I never expected to see again in my life. Mr. Stephens.

  “You little son of a bitch, I oughta kill you.” He started to charge me, but Elroy had him by the collar before he could take two steps. He still looked the same, but now he had a scraggly, gray beard that his crooked nose poked out of. And…that smell! He reeked of urine and alcohol.

  A panic erupted inside
me. This can’t be. Is Gammon going to give me back? He can’t do that…he’ll kill me.

  Then it hit me. If Mr. Stephens was here, then that meant...those gunshots? Mr. Jeffries? The utter shock of the past few moments was the only thing keeping me from busting out in tears. Mr. Jeffries was dead.

  Elroy had Mr. Stephens in an arm lock, restricting every move he tried to make toward me.

  “Calm down, Mr. Stephens. I granted you this meeting out of the kindness of my heart, so you’d be wise not to waste my time,” Gammon said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  Without breaking his gaze on me, Mr. Stephens calmed down and shook his arm out of Elroy’s grasp.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Stephens?” asked Gammon impatiently.

  “That boy is mine and I want him back.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m his legal guardian and he enlisted without my consent.” You liar!

  Just when I thought things were going my way. Now, Mr. Stephens is going to take me back and torture me to a slow death for what I did to his house. He’s going to strangle me and this time he won’t stop until I’m blue in the face.

  General Gammon opened a manila folder on his desk. “The records here show that Private Tennpenny is eighteen years of age. In the eyes of the law, he is a man of his own right. He doesn’t need consent to enlist,” Gammon leaned back in his chair, swirling a pen in his hand and wielding his cigar with the other. “Tell me, what is your relation to Private Tennpenny?”

  I stared hard at the wall opposite trying not to make eye contact with him. The sight of him brought back all the worst memories in me. I could see from the corner of my eye that he never really took his gaze off of me until Gammon hit him with that question. He glanced back and forth between me and Gammon desperately searching for an answer, gritting his yellow crusted teeth in aggravation. Finally, he exploded with prideful egotism.

  “I own him. He is my property.” The last word came out like a hiss. With an arrogant finger pointed at me, he took a few steps toward Gammons desk. “That boy burned down my house and almost killt me in the process.” He knew that I was scared to look at him, I could feel it. “And that nigger Jeffries.” That got my attention. I looked right into his wayward eyes. “That’s right. I found that nigger standin outside waitin for me as I came stumblin out the house. He came at me with a knife…so I shot him dead.”

  With a surprising strength I didn’t know I had, I contained the whirlwind of emotions that swirled within me. I never wanted to kill someone more than I did just then.

  “Y’all are both criminals. He got what he deserved. Now, it’s time for you…”

  With a haughty, bellowing voice, Gammon stood and interrupted his tirade, “The only criminal here is you, Mr. Stephens. How dare you come into my office and accuse one of my men of being a criminal, when you yourself have committed the most grievous of crimes. Slavery has been outlawed in this country for nearly a century, and yet you have the gall to stand before me and claim this boy as your property. Well, let me tell you something, this boy is a soldier of the Confederate States Army and he belongs to me.” With a slam of his fist on the desk Gammon made Mr. Stephens recoil. A pang of nervousness contorted his face as he took the full brunt of Gammon’s anger. “Never would I ever release his soul back into the hands of a low-class, backwoods, bucket of shit like you.”

  Without losing a beat, Gammon came from around his desk and stood in front of a visibly trembling Mr. Stephens, practically standing on his toes, forcing him to take a step backwards into an equally aggravated Drill Sergeant Elroy. “It’s spineless creatures like you who make this world the way it is. I’m going to make you regret ever coming to my office. For the rest of your days you’ll lament everything you did to this boy. Drill Sergeant Elroy, get this garbage out of my face.”

  Elroy manhandled Mr. Stephens out the door and into the arms of a pair of military police officers before he could make any sort of protest.

  When the door slammed shut, I realized I had been unintentionally holding my breath. The weight was too much. I fought the urge to cry as I drew in a couple deep breaths to calm myself. I thought I had left that life behind for good. Mr. Stephens had found me. Worst of all, he admitted to killing Mr. Jeffries. And now General Gammon and Sergeant Elroy know that I was once a slave.

  “Jesus! How did you live with that repulsive creature?” Gammon asked, still in his ranting voice, but upon seeing how visibly shaken I was from the encounter, he motioned to the chair and gingerly bid me to sit down.

  I steadied my shakes and tried to regain my composure, feeling a bit ashamed of my show of weakness. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “If there’s anyone that should be apologizing it should be me. I’m sorry I put you through that.” There was a bit of solace in the fact that I did enjoy Gammon outright humiliating Mr. Stephens. “You don’t have to worry about that man every again. I’ll place him in the deepest, darkest hole I can find. His very existence will be forgotten.”

  “Thank you, sir. I…” I sniffled. “Permission to leave, sir?” I couldn’t look Gammon in the eye. Gammon looked back at me with a muddled expression of pity, intrigue, amazement, and concern.

  “Granted,” he said after a long pause.

  I sprang to my feet, exited the office and quick stepped down the hall behind Drill Sergeant Elroy. As we got to the exit I said, “Please don’t tell anyone about my past Drill Sergeant.”

  Elroy looked back at me with the same pitiful stupefaction that Gammon did moments earlier. He acknowledged me with a quick nod, before we exited the building to rejoin the platoon.

  I was in such a state of disbelief the rest of the day, I refused to talk to anyone, including Alex. It was a mental battle that had to be fought by me and me alone. I tortured myself with the belief that I had let my guard down.

  I didn’t keep my head down, my mouth shut and my ears open. Mr. Jeffries told me to trust nobody, but here I am getting too close with other recruits. I lost Mr. Jeffries because of my thoughtless actions. If I keep being friends with Alex and the others, I’ll eventually put them in harm’s way too. That isn’t fair to them. They don’t deserve that.

  This burden, this curse of loneliness I seemed destined to possess would not claim any more lives under my watch. I vowed to not let that happen, even if that meant staying away from my friends.

  Alex didn’t take kindly to the fact that I was secluding myself and not talking to anybody. Granted, I never really talked much to begin with, but Alex knew me better than most and when I was battling something in my head, he knew it without asking. It was his sixth sense. I could safely say, I thoroughly angered him that evening with my cold shoulder.

  “Talk to me, Colton,” he said to me as I lay in bed. “What the hell happened in Gammon’s office?” I closed my eyes. “Dammit, Colton, talk to me. This isn’t you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I do.” You don’t.

  Alex went to bed that evening flustered. I felt his eyes staring up at me from the bottom bunk. A tinge of guilt poked at my brain. I wish I could find a way to tell him.

  For hours I lay awake thinking about the words to tell him what was going on in my head. That just led to more frustration as my lack of education and poor vocabulary had me feeling like my voice was being held back with heavy chains.

  The same thoughts kept running through my head.

  I shouldn’t have thrown that brick. I should have let Mr. Stephens burn in that house. Why didn’t I force Mr. Jeffries to come with me? Why did he have to stay? Why…why…why…why? Gammon said, what you do defines who you are. I’m a first class coward. Mr. Jeffries would still be alive if I just had the guts to let that son of a bitch burn. I allowed myself to get all caught up in this snobbish military life. This wasn’t me. I’m not supposed to be here. Shut up, Colton. This was the only choice you had. Yeah, well, are you going to let your new friends die because of your inability to do what is necessary?

  So
mewhat naïvely, a part of me still clung to the smallest hope that I’d somehow see Mr. Jeffries again. I told myself he was out there, starting his new life, and that maybe, just maybe, we could reunite after this war was over with.

  That day was a soul crushing punch right into the center of my chest. Mr. Jeffries had stood in for me as my father when I needed him the most. I wanted to return that favor and become the man he knew I could be.

  May your spirit rest in peace.

  Finally, after a long day of heavy mental anxiety and physical exhaustion my body began to shut down and my eye lids slowly, but heavily closed shut.

  Chapter 8

  March 16

  Since that emotional day in Gammon’s office, I had kept true to my word when I told myself to stay away from Alex and others. Alex and I talked, but not like we did before. Our conversations only extended as far as a “good morning” or a simple “hey.”

  The day after the incident in Gammon’s office, I was lying in bed when Alex stood up and calmly told me, “When you’re ready to talk, I’m right here.” From then on he let me be and kept his distance. It ate me up inside knowing that I was hurting my friends with my silence, but in the end, I always convinced myself it was for their own good.

  Beauregard and Hayes treated my icy silence with their usual comedic bantering, but they too, none the less, didn’t approve of the way I was keeping them at arm’s length. Carrigan hardly noticed my change of demeanor. She was still reeling from her encounter with Teague. She was quieter now, and skittish. It took a lot of guts for her to go to sleep every night knowing her attacker was living in the very same room. We all kept one eye on her at all times. Not that we needed to. She stayed close to us anyway.

  Teague was a constant presence and thorn in her side. The bastard should have been rotting in the stockade. Two days after the attack, a fight almost broke out in the barracks when Teague purposefully bumped into Carrigan as she was coming out of the showers. He winked and licked his lips at her half-naked body. Alex saw the whole thing and would have kicked Teague’s teeth in right then and there if Shannon and Beauregard hadn’t held him back. Alex was the platoon leader, he couldn’t be doing things like that.