“Sorry Sir but your visit here is highly unusual. Is everything ok?”
“Well, I do have some good news and some bad news,” he responded cryptically. “Which do you prefer?”
“We’ll have the bad news first George, if you please,” Doc shot back quickly.
“Good news it is,” the general teased.
He set his coffee down at his feet and fumbled with the cloth pouch. Reaching in, he looked over to Geoff.
“Geoffrey, after a lengthy discussion with Gen. Warner here,” he said, nodding to David. “I’ve considered his request and have decided to commission you as an assisting surgeon. I’ve approved you for the rank of second lieutenant… congratulations. You deserve it son.”
He stood and extended his hand across the fire. Geoff instantly leaped to his feet, a large grin spread across his face. As he accepted the general’s hand, he grinned to David in appreciation.
“You deserve it Lad. Congratulations,” Doc said, coming to his feet, rubbing Geoff’s shoulder.
“Wow, this is unbelievable. I don’t know what to say,” Geoff responded.
“You’ll be needing these,” Gen. Thomas said, extending his hand.
Geoff held out his palm as the general laid two lieutenant’s bars in it. Mesmerized by the sight, Geoff stared for a moment at the shiny metal.
“Wow, thank you so much,” Geoff said, graciously.
He stood back, came to attention and saluted. Nodding in return, the general quickly saluted then took a seat by the fire.
“Geoffrey, I have your officers uniform in my other saddle bag. I’ll fetch it shortly, but first, a bit of bad news.”
He took another sip of his coffee and continued.
“I just received orders from Gen. Sherman. We’ll be on the move tomorrow. Our destination is Nashville. Once there, I’ll be assuming command of all armies in the Tennessee region while he marches east toward Savannah.”
“Nashville, huh?” Doc responded, flashing Geoff an ominous stare. “I hadn’t heard of any hostilities there as of late.”
“There hasn’t been yet, but from what I gather, there will be,” the general replied, his eyes widening.
“What have you gathered?” Doc asked bluntly.
“According to President Jeff Davis,” he started, his tone antagonistic, “He claims Gen. Hood will be disrupting Sherman's line of communication and hopes to be standing on the banks of the Ohio in the near future,” he finished in mocking tone.
“Hmm, I see. So logically, he’ll be shifting his focus to the north,” Doc responded.
“And logically, Chattanooga and Nashville are in the path of the Ohio River,” David added.
“Yes, logically speaking,” Gen. Thomas said, then added, “President Lincoln and Gen. Grant suspect the greater plan between Hood and Gen. Lee, will be to join forces and crush our defenses in the north. It’s imperative we stop Hood in Nashville before this happens.
He took another long slug of coffee, wiped his beard, then waited for comments.
“Just when I started getting comfortable,” David responded sarcastically.
“I’m sorry David. I know you doctors have been under tremendous pressure. If all goes well in Nashville, you’ll get the rest you all deserve.”
David nodded to Gen. Thomas, then glanced knowingly at Doc and Geoff.
As Gen. Thomas rode off, David joked, “Apparently, he didn’t get the memo.”
-----*-----*-----*-----
Over the next five days, Gen. Thomas loaded his army, forty thousand strong, into military boxcars and transported them by rail two-hundred and fifty miles away, from Atlanta GA to Nashville TN. By the end of the day, October 3, the last of his men unloaded from the trains and immediately were put to work amassing a series of breastworks around the outskirts of the city.
As the infantry rushed to assemble their defenses, those in the medical corps set up makeshift hospitals in barns commandeered from local farmers. Within days of their arrival at Nashville, wounded soldiers began to arrive from battles elsewhere.
Once again, with little time to rest, the medical corps worked around the clock to save the wounded as men from the battles of Allatoona, Resaca and Dalton, poured in. Transported by rail, most arrived in time to be saved. Those wounded in battles beyond the reaches of rails, suffered a far worse fate as their conditions deteriorated over time while transported by horse-drawn ambulances. As the death toll began to rise, it soon became obvious other measures would need to be taken.
Gen. Thomas watched as another load of wounded men arrived by wagon. Coming to a stop in front of the makeshift hospital barn, he peered over the edge of the wooden rails and took notice of the injured men. His face suddenly dropped as he saw the lifeless eyes of the now deceased soldiers. Anger welled inside him at the sight of the senseless loss. Quickly, he spun on his heels and entered the barn.
Instantly, the stench of rot and disease stung his nostrils. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and brought it to his nose. Taking a few deep breaths, he realized the cloth rag was little help. Spotting David at the opposite end of the barn, he stowed the cloth and hurried to his position.
“Gen. Warner, a word with you if you please?” he said, staring over David’s patient.
“Gen. Thomas, I’m kind of busy here. I’m in the middle of a delicate procedure. Can it wait?” David asked respectfully.
“I’m afraid not David,” he said, now making his point more personal.
David glanced up at the general. He could see worry in his eyes. He nodded and said to his assistant, “Do you think you can close?”
The assistant surgeon nodded willingly. “Yes Sir. I’ll take good care of him.”
David smiled cordially, then nodded to the general to lead the way out of the barn. As the two men stepped outside, Gen. Thomas turned and spoke.
“David, as you know, Gen. Schofield has been engaging Gen. Hood south of us from Alabama to Tennessee. He’s been sending his wounded up by ambulance and a high proportion of them have been dying along the way. The trip is just too far for the wounded to make. We need to take measures to save them.”
“What do you propose?” he asked with growing concern.
“I need to send a detail of surgeons down to Franklin, about a day’s ride from here. There, they can intercept and treat the wounded. This is a forward position and will be highly dangerous, but I think it’s worth the risk,” the general stated.
“And you want me to go?” David responded matter-of-factly.
“Yes David. You and Doc have seen battle before, as well as the young lad Geoffrey, and will be able to stay composed far greater than any other doctors under my command. If our intent is to save the wounded lads, then let’s make sure we give this our best effort,” he said adamantly.
“So how close to the battle lines will we be?” David asked nervously.
“Hard to say. Gen. Hood has been in pursuit of Gen. Schofield now for weeks. Fortunately, Schofield has stayed one step ahead of him each time. He’s done a remarkable job at slowing Hood’s advance while staying just outside of heavy conflict, but it’s anyone’s guess if that situation will change.”
“Meaning?” David asked with apprehension.
“Meaning, I’m expecting to hear any time now from Gen. Schofield that he’s engaged in heavy fighting with Hood… in other words David, the fighting could be right on your doorstep,” the general said in an ominous tone.
David shifted nervously, then replied, “Maybe before I leave, I should requisition an extra pair of underwear?”
The general thought about David’s statement. “An insightful plan,” he said with a grin.
-----*-----*-----*-----
The small detachment of doctors stood at the edge of the narrow Harpeth River and waited their turn in crossing over to the small town of Franklin. Riding atop a hastily thrown raft, the ferry was barely large enough to hold a single horse and rider. Crossing the fifty foot wide span o
f water, the bedraggled ferryman, drove a long pole into the muddy riverbed and pushed the raft to the other side. Within an hour, the detail of men had mounted their horses and were heading south into the town.
On the west side of Franklin, in a large open field, an old farmhouse sat abandoned. War torn and in disrepair, David stared at it with apprehension.
“I don’t know Doc. The place looks like it’ll blow down in a wind storm,” he said.
“Nonsense lad, I’ve operated in far worse conditions. The exterior may be ravaged by shrapnel and bullet holes, but I believe the structure is suitably strong. As long as it doesn’t rain, we’ll be dry and warm… a far better arrangement than operating out in the cold,” Doc assured.
“I’m with Doc. It’s friggin’ cold out here. Must be forty-five degrees,” Geoff added.
David turned to the private assigned to them as a courier.
“Private, take a message to Gen. Schofield. Inform him that this will be an interim hospital for his wounded. Make sure he knows exactly where we’re located so his ambulances don’t spend time searching for us,” David ordered.
“Yes Sir Gen. Warner,” the private responded respectfully.
Without a moment’s delay, he pulled on the reigns of his horse and galloped off south toward the town of Columbia.
Turning to Geoff, he continued, “Ok Lieutenant, let’s get the show on the road. You organize the rest of the men and search the woods for anything that’ll burn, while Doc and I set up the gurneys inside the house.”
Geoff stared blankly. As David smiled at him, he looked around in confusion.
“You mean me?”
“You’re the only lieutenant I’m looking at,” David joked. “How’s the new title sound to you?”
“Really cool,” he responded proudly.
“Wait until you have men saluting you. That’ll really inflate your ego,” David joked, then added, “Just a little tip for you: with the higher rank comes power. Never abuse it. Lead through respect. If you respect them, they’ll respect you and therefore will trust and follow you.”
“He’s right Geoffrey. Many an officer has failed in his mission, simply because he failed to inspire trust.”
Geoff nodded in understanding. “Got it. Don’t be a bully right?”
“Sort of, but that’s only part of it. You must lead by example: be confident, but humble; you must demonstrate good judgment yet take responsibility for your mistakes. You must manage, but not over manage causing resentment in your leadership. A good leader knows his own limitations,” Doc explained.
Geoff thought about Doc’s words. Once again, he nodded in understanding.
“Guess I have a lot to learn, huh?” He said in humble tone.
“I’d say that’s one of the smartest things I’ve heard you say Geoffrey,” Doc responded proudly.
Geoff smiled in thanks, then turned to the three privates standing nearby.
“Ok guys, let’s find some firewood before we freeze our butts off, shall we?” Geoff said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with his first order.
Doc glanced to David and nodded in approval.
“On that note, I think we better do the same. I’m sure that house is a mess inside and with Gen. Schofield so close, I’m betting we’ll be seeing wounded in a couple hours,” David said.
“I concur Lad, there’s not a lot of time to prepare and with limited supplies, we’re going to have to take extra precaution with sterilization,” Doc replied.
“It’s a real shame Gen. Thomas couldn’t receive the alcohol I requested in time. Without it, infections will probably run rampant.”
“How’s that affect our surgical strategies?” Doc asked grimly, already knowing the answer.
“More amputations,” David responded sadly. “There’s just no use in performing the more delicate operations to save a limb if they’ll lose it anyway due to infection.”
“Hmm, I was afraid you were going to say that… save the patient the agony of two operations then,” Doc replied.
“I’m afraid so.”
-----*-----*-----*-----
November 29th, 1864
As Gen. Hood pursued Gen. Schofield to the north through Tennessee, the two engaged in battles at Johnsonville and Columbia producing hundreds more wounded, and the team of three and their surgical assistants worked tirelessly to save them. Located so close to the battle front, their close proximity to the action allowed them to receive the wounded quicker, ultimately saving a greater number of lives.
Sensing opportunity, Confederate Gen. Hood rushed his men after the retreating northern army. At Spring Hill, Tennessee, Union Gen. Schofield positioned his men for battle. Within hours, the southern generals advanced on the northern army’s position. Although light skirmishing ensued, miscommunication between the field and command prevented heavier fighting from beginning. By evening, as the southern commanders reorganized their strategies, darkness had fallen, preventing Rebel forces from engaging the enemy further. Choosing to wait until the following morning, Gen. Hood ordered his men to hold their positions until daybreak where they planned to resume their attack.
With daylight fading and the sounds of battle now silent, Gen. Schofield waited nervously on reports from his commanders. Just before dusk, good news was delivered: Gen. Hood’s army now lay in wait of the morning. Seizing opportunity, Gen. Schofield ordered his men to march quickly past the town of Spring Hill under the cloak of darkness. While the Rebel soldiers slept, the Union army hurried north toward Franklin. By four-thirty the following morning, the Union army amassed at the outskirts of town and waited their orders. No sooner than they arrived, the men began to erect defenses around the small town.
As Gen. Hood woke at dawn, his commanders delivered the difficult news: the enemy had escaped during the night. Frantic for victory, Gen. Hood ordered his men to march to Franklin.
-----*-----*-----*-----
November 30th, 1864
FRANKLIN
4:30 am
Doc woke to the sound of approaching horse and wagon. As his mind pushed through his early morning lethargy, he realized the sound of one wagon became many. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and sprang for the window at the opposite side of the bedroom. In the faint light of the lanterns, he watched in surprise as the left flank of Gen. Schofield’s left flank poured into the medical camp.
Instantly, he spun on his heels and rushed down the narrow hallway of the second floor, sounding the alarm to those sleeping.
“Wake up lads, we’ve got company!” he shouted.
“Who is it?” David shouted back instinctively as he woke from his deep sleep.
“I don’t know whose command they’re from, but they’re definitely our boys,” he responded. As David stood and made his way through the doorway, Doc continued, “They’re flooding in in an awful hurry too. I don’t like the looks of this.”
“You think we’re being overrun like we were back at Antietam?”
Doc glanced back at David as the two hurried down the hall. His face carried the look of worry even before he spoke. “I hope not. We narrowly escaped that tussle.”
Shouting to the others as they rushed down the stairs, they hurried out the front door to the arriving troops. Trotting up on horseback, a short overweight long-bearded officer rode his horse to the waiting men at the front of the house. Pulling back on his reins, he brought his horse to a quick stop.
“Morning gentleman,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“Good morning, General Schofield. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” Doc responded in light sarcasm. “By the way you filed in here, I take it this isn’t a Sunday after-church affair.”
“I should say it’s not,” Gen. Schofield shot back in serious tone. “We just narrowly slipped past Hood’s armies and I’m quite certain he’ll be here straight away.”
“Straight away? Like as in now?” Geoff asked, his voice showing his fear.
Gen. Schofield glanced at Geoff’s applets and notic
ed his rank.
“We’re on borrowed time Lieutenant. I’m expecting to hear General Hood’s guns any minute now. I only hope we can set up our defenses before he arrives.”
“You’re setting up here… in the medical camp?” he asked, in surprise.
“It’s no longer a medical camp Lieutenant. You’re now standing at headquarters,” Gen. Schofield responded.
“But where will we treat the wounded?” he pressed further.
“You won’t. We need every hand in this fight. We’re outnumbered and our backs are against the Harpeth River,” Gen. Schofield responded, bluntly.
Prisoner in Time (Time travel) Page 39
