B00HSFFI1Q EBOK

by Unknown

  Just then we heard some soldiers marching and singing as they came towards us. The song was the ‘Mountains of Mourne’ and the voices were Irish. I looked up and suddenly realised that they were Union soldiers. They still looked aggressive and full of fight. It made me wonder what had made them surrender. When they saw our badges I saw them halt. The guards with them looked confused.

  “Come on you Micks move on now.”

  One of them, a sergeant, tried to lurch towards us. “It’s them murdering bastards. The ones who killed our boys!”

  The corporal guarding them tried to hold the big sergeant but he broke free and swung a haymaker at me. I moved my head out of the way and as he lumbered he lost his balance and I hit him on the side of the head. He fell like a sack of potatoes. My men had their Colts out, trained on the rest in an instant.

  Sergeant Jones’ Welsh voice sounded in the silence which followed. “Listen you bog Irish. One more move and we will save the Confederacy the trouble of feeding you! Pick up your thug here and in your words, feck off!”

  There was a rumble of discord and suddenly twenty Colts were cocked. The corporal in charge shrugged apologetically, “Come on boys, its Andersonville for you.” They picked up the unconscious sergeant and trudged sullenly off.

  Sergeant Ritchie lowered the hammer on his Colt and said. “Next time I see a Union Irish man I shoot first and ask later.”

  The last guard escorting the prisoners said, “Well there are thousands out there. This is the Irish Brigade and they are the craziest fighters in the whole Union army.”

  I was almost shell shocked when they had gone. They had not even known my name and yet they were willing to kill me, or die trying. I had to do something about this. I had to find Sergeant Mick Callaghan and end this.

  I ached when I awoke the next day. I was as tired as I had ever been. The guns had awoken me before dawn as the first cannons fired over the field of Gettysburg.

  General Hill had secured Seminary Ridge and the cannons were arrayed along its top. Across the valley, along Cemetery Ridge, we could see the bristling Union guns. Ewell had not removed the threat and now the Confederate grey would have to rid the hill of the blue by its red blood. We now held the high ground to the west but the crucial ridges were held by the Union. I also heard that they had control of the rocky land in which we had hidden a couple of days earlier. It would be like getting a winkle from its shell to remove the Yankees from there.

  General Hill summoned me to his early morning meeting just before dawn. I was grateful for the good nights sleep and felt more refreshed than I had for some time.

  “Ah Captain Hogan, you are refreshed I hope, for today we will need you and your invaluable scouts even more than we did yesterday.” He lowered his voice and put his arm around me. “General Stuart, it appears, is stuck close to Hanover where he and the Union cavalry are fighting their own battle. You are our only eyes and ears. I need you to infiltrate their lines and find out their numbers.” He saw the look of horror on my face. “Oh, come sir. I know you have been behind enemy lines before now.”

  I had but then I had been with Dago Spinelli, a man I trusted implicitly and whom I knew would get me out of any jam I might find myself in. Of course I could not say that. “Of course sir. What are your instructions?”

  “I wish you and one of your comrades to get to Cemetery Ridge and ascertain what their dispositions are.”

  I bit my tongue. Had General Ewell done as ordered we would know that already. “Very well sir. Give me an hour to make my preparations.”

  I took a detour to the medical tent where the Irish prisoners who had been wounded were being treated. I saw the orderly at the entrance and I waved him over.

  “Yes sir. How can I help you?”

  “Those Irish boys who were just brought in have you any who have head wounds?”

  “A few of them sir. Why?”

  “I need to ask one a couple of questions.” He gave me a questioning look. “Listen orderly the general has asked me to go behind the enemy lines. If I am to return than I need all the information I can get.” He still hesitated. “I promise that I will not endanger the man’s life.”

  He nodded. “But I will be with you.”

  “Very well.” I pointed at his white coat. “Have you a spare one?”

  He went into the tent and brought one out. “There is this one but it is a little bloody.” He smiled at me as though he expected me to baulk at the sight of blood.

  I put it on over my uniform. “I have waded through blood. This is nothing.”

  Once inside I was pleased to see that the interior was dark and it was difficult to make things out. He led me to a bed where there was a soldier with a heavily bandaged head. It covered his eyes. I knelt down next to the bed. I put my mouth close to his ear.

  “Listen friend, I am Mick Geraghty from the 28th. I have just found those boys Mick O’Callaghan is looking for.”

  I heard him start. “The Wildcats?”

  I was putting the accent on heavily. “Aye. I’ll split the reward with you.”

  I heard suspicion in his voice. “I don’t know you and besides how will you get to him?”

  “I promise that if I get the reward I will share it with you. You have my word on that.” I was not lying for I had no intention of getting any reward. “As for how I can get away, well they thought I was dead and left me with the corpses.”

  He reached up and grabbed the bloody white coat. He rubbed the sodden material with his fingers. Seemingly satisfied he laid back down. “He is with the gunners at the southern edge of Cemetery Ridge. Just before the Devil’s Den.”

  “Thank you son. Now you rest.”

  I stood and left. The orderly followed me. As I handed him the bloodied coat I said, “Satisfied?”

  He nodded, “But why are you looking for this man?”

  “He has put a price on the head of a couple of friends of mine and I want to make sure that he isn’t around to pay it.” I realised how cold and hard my words and voice sounded when the orderly shuddered.

  “I wouldn’t want you to be on my trail.”

  “Nor will this sergeant either.”

  When I reached my men they gathered around expectantly. I felt that I was letting them down but I had no choice, I had my orders.”I have been ordered by General Hill to go behind enemy lines.” There was a collective gasp from my men. “I need a volunteer, a foolish volunteer, to come with me. I am not certain if either of us will return.”

  Every hand went up. I caught my breath. I was touched as never before. “Thank you for your support. Sergeants and corporals, I cannot take you for you will need to lead the rest of the men. I cannot take the married men, that would be unfair and I cannot take a recruit. That leaves Trooper Duffy.”

  Trooper Duffy had been with us for a year and had come from the 2nd Virginia. He was quiet but I had noticed that he was both reliable and never panicked. He was also single. His wife and child had died of the influenza. However the other factor in his favour was that he was Irish and that would help with our deception. He was my only choice.

  I saw the disappointment on the faces of the others, especially my two sergeants. “Trooper Duffy, go to the medical tents and see it they have two uniforms from dead men. Try to get us a couple of Irish regiments.”

  Duffy nodded. “Any particular rank sir?”

  “Not an officer; we don’t want to get noticed.”

  I turned to the two sergeants. “You two will need to take the rest of the company and scout for the general. Do the same as you did yesterday. I should be back by late afternoon.”

  “If you aren’t sir then we will come looking for you.”

  “No Sergeant Jones. Your job is to keep as many men alive as you can. If I don’t return then the colonel will need as many good men like you as he can get.” I paused. “Sergeant Ritchie, watch Copper for me. I’ll be on foot today.”

  Duffy came back with two uniforms, a corporal and a private. “
I had little choice for you sir. This was the only one big enough to fit you. He handed me the corporal’s jacket. I could see blood on the chest and a small cut. I shivered. I was stepping into dead men’s shoes. The kepi fitted well. I did not need to change my gun as Colts were used by the Union.

  Sergeant Ritchie handed us our muskets. I noticed that they were smoothbore. He saw my look. “The Irish Brigade uses these with one large musket ball and four smaller ones. It makes them like a shotgun.”

  General Hill’s aide appeared and nodded his approval. Then he saw our guns. “That won’t do. Your uniforms are for the 28th Massachusetts; they use Enfield rifles. Wait here I’ll get a couple.”

  I handed them back to the sergeant. “Keep these close they may come in handy.”

  By the time the aide returned with the guns dawn was breaking. “You had better get off captain. Good luck. Have your men escort you through our lines. We don’t want your head blown off by our own side, do we?”

  With that grim thought we headed east. We reached the Emmitsburg Road and saw that there were no Union forces before us. The gunners looked askance at us as we were escorted by our comrades. We could see the early light in the east and we said our farewells.

  One of the artillerymen said, “You letting those Yankees go?”

  As Duffy and I ran down the slope I heard Sergeant Jones say, “Those are our boys. You see them later and mind that you don’t shoot them.”

  That thought had worried me. How would we get back? I could see how we could infiltrate their lines before the battle started but not when it was in full swing and we would have to return to our own lines when the battle was at its fiercest. We would cross that particular bridge when we had to.

  There were still bodies littering the ground. Reb and Yankee lay in grotesque piles showing where they had fought and died. Instead of heading directly up to Cemetery Ridge I headed down the valley and along Plum Run. I deemed that it would be easier to cross the lines in the tangle of rocks and undergrowth that lay at the southern end of the Federal lines.

  The rifle was far heavier to carry and I contemplated ditching it but that would have made the Union soldiers suspicious. There was much to be said for having a horse. We moved as swiftly as we could down that stream. When we heard horses we threw ourselves to the ground and feigned death. The Union horsemen passed us without reacting. We rose and moved on.

  As we neared the spot where we had hidden from the cavalry I saw, to my dismay that it now bristled with guns and barriers. This would be a hard place from which to dislodge the enemy. I could see that an engineer had worked at that. I remembered how formidable it had been before they had done their work. It would be as a fortress now.

  “Let’s cut left. They look to be on the alert here. Let’s try further up.”

  The going was a little easier towards the end of Cemetery Ridge but we had to move slowly for fear of alerting the sentries who would, no doubt, be watching for a Confederate attack. We were now behind the lines for the Union forces still held part of the Emmitsburg Road.

  Suddenly we heard a voice say, “Halt, who goes there?”

  “Corporal Geraghty and Private Duffy of the 28th.”

  Duffy and I had decided to accentuate our accents. “What the hell are you Irish boys doing here? You are supposed to be on the Emmitsburg Road.” The sergeant who had appeared narrowed his eyes, “You ain’t deserting are you?”

  I snorted, “And who the hell ever heard of an Irishman running away from a fight. We have been sent to get some more ammunition. There’s a mess of Rebs just raring to attack us and the colonel sent us to get some more .69 calibre balls.”

  “And who is the colonel?”

  The sergeant was still suspicious. Luckily the general’s aide had told us that the colonel of the Irish Brigade was Colonel Kelly. I decided to be bold and aggressive. “Why, Colonel Kelly of course. Listen sergeant, if you want to take us back to the colonel for you to confirm who we are I would be delighted. I like nothing better than watching him chew out sergeants.”

  “Ah get away with you. You’ll find the wagons a mile or so yonder.”

  And with that we were through and able to do our job. I could see, as soon as we left the forward areas that they were bringing up many cannon. These were not the outdated smoothbore we had seen in our own lines. Some of these were breech loaders and others still had the factory grease on them. I dared not risk making notes as I would normally do.

  “Keep a note in your head of what we see eh Trooper?”

  He nodded, seriously, “Yes sir.”

  I decided to head for the wagons containing musket balls as it would aid our escape and also make us less conspicuous. We trudged, as though we were weary soldiers, towards the wagons which were close to the Baltimore Pike. The soldiers in charge of them were cooking up a breakfast and we could smell the ham sizzling in the pan. I felt hunger pangs even though, until then, I had been too nervous to eat. Bacon will do that to you.

  A lieutenant came out of one of the tents. “Yes corporal, what can I do for you?”

  “Colonel Kelly’s compliments and he would like some .69 calibre musket balls.”

  A sergeant wandered over as the lieutenant, who looked to be barely old enough to shave said, “Where is your supply chit corporal?”

  The grizzled sergeant laughed, “Let’s get rid of that old ammo sir. They are the only ones mad enough to still use the old smoothbore.”

  “And sir, the colonel was too busy fighting Rebs to have the time to write anything down.”

  I saw the lieutenant colour at the implied criticism. “Oh very well. The sergeant is right. It will clear space for more useful ammunition anyway.”

  The sergeant winked at me as the lieutenant returned to his tent, “Will you have a bite to eat with us corporal. We have plenty.”

  As much as I wanted to head back to our lines I knew that it would be odd to refuse the food and so I grinned back at the sergeant, “Of course. We have been on iron rations for the past two days and that ham smells mighty fine.”

  He led me over, “We have some eggs too. There was a little farm we passed and it would have been pure wrong to leave the eggs for those civilians.” The men made a space around the fire. They had cut logs for seats and Duffy and I sat next to each other. We held our mugs out and the hot steaming coffee was poured in. It seemed like weeks since we had had decent coffee.

  “You boys help yourselves.” I noticed that they used their bayonets to spear the ham. A private flipped the eggs on to slices of fried bread. I almost forgot there was a war as the yolk and bacon grease ran down my chin. The fried bread reminded me of home in Ireland. That was a rare treat. When we had managed to get a piece of bacon Caitlin and I would have bread dipped in the bacon grease while my father enjoyed the bacon.

  “What is it like at the front, corporal?”

  “Those Rebs might not have the best of weapons, sergeant, but they are mad buggers. They keep coming at you when a normal man would give up.”

  “Aye, we heard that.” He pointed behind him. “Don’t you worry we have plenty of cannon. If they try to cross that ground then they will be slaughtered.”

  One of the privates shook his head. “Even the Rebs wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that.”

  We had finished our food and I was keen to get back to General Hill with the information we had gleaned. “Well thank you for your hospitality. Now if we could have those musket balls we can get back into this war.”

  There was a large case of them. We could barely lift it. “It’s a pity there are no mules. We had a whole bunch of them until Jeb Stuart and his boys stole them.”

  I hid a smile. That had been us. “Don’t worry, besides this is easier. Those Rebs have sharpshooters.”

  We turned to head back west. I took a slight detour to the southern end of the ridge. I wanted to examine the earthworks more closely. From close up they were even more formidable. As we headed down the slope I noticed the white flag wit
h the green shamrock on it and the men sleeping by the cannon. It had to be Mick O’Callaghan and his men. The description had been too accurate for it to be any other. The thought flitted across my mind that I could end the threat to the colonel and the major there and then. My sense of duty and the presence of Trooper Duffy dissuaded me. I now knew where the sergeant was and I could return, if I survived this crossing.

  We hurried down the slope a little to enable us to cross the valley. I was just trying to work out when we could ditch the ammunition when a general and some staff officers rode in the same direction as us.

  “Colonel I don’t care what General Meade says, my men have nothing to fire at here. Now, that Wheatfield down there looks much better.”

  “General Sickles, we have our orders.”

  The general suddenly noticed us. “Hey you two men. Stop.” I almost panicked. Had we been discovered? “Are you boys with Colonel Kelly and the Irish Brigade?”

  “Yes sir, we are that!” I laid the accent on with a trowel and gave him what I hoped he would take as an Irish smile.

  “And you boys are dug in on the road yonder? Just past the wheat field and the orchard we can see?”

  “We are indeed sir; right in the Reb’s faces.”

  “Then I am decided. We can support the front line. We will not win this war by hanging back. We need to strike with purpose. The Third Corps will move in that direction.” He pointed to the wheat field and as he did so he flipped me a silver dollar. “Here’s for your trouble sir and tell your colonel that soon he will have the finest Corps in the army to support him.”

  “Thank you kindly sir.”

  I had to get back now. The general had just negated the effect of the cannon. They would not be able to fire at an advance from our forces for fear of hitting their own men. When we reached the sergeant who had stopped us earlier he grunted, “Well you weren’t deserters then. Next time make sure you have written orders. If not you might get shot.”