Divided Nation, United Hearts

by Yolanda Wallace

  “Invasion?”

  Enid released Mary, crossed the room, and snatched the door open. Abram sagged against the table with relief when he saw Jedediah standing alone on the other side.

  “The Yankees are coming to Shiloh?” Enid asked.

  Jedediah doffed his hat as he came inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Not yet, but they’re on the way. A trainload of them reached Kentucky a fortnight ago and they’ve been on the move ever since. Our scouts say nearly fifty thousand of them are bedded down in Nashville now with gunboats and artillery at the ready.”

  “Nashville?” Moses said. “That’s about a hundred and fifty miles from here. If the Federals keep up a steady pace, they should be here in a little over a week.”

  “Fifty thousand men?” Enid asked. “Are you sure, Jed?”

  “Sure as shooting. And Ulysses S. Grant himself is said to be leading them.”

  “What should we do? Pack up and run? I’ve got family in the mountains. We could stay with them until it’s safe to come home.”

  “Don’t worry yourself, Mrs. Bragg.” Jedediah drew himself up tall. “Grant drinks so much he’s apt to march his men in circles rather than a straight line. You’ll be safe here in Shiloh as long as the men of my company and I are around to protect you.”

  The local branch of the Hardin County Reserves was a defense troop primarily composed of men either unqualified or unwilling to go to war. Some had their hearts in the right place. Others like Jedediah seemed satisfied preening around on their horses while grateful women swooned over their apparent bravery.

  Would Jedediah and his men be able to fight off an armed invasion from a trained unit of soldiers, or would they drop their guns and raise their hands in surrender before the first shot was fired? Clara was inclined to think the latter was true.

  “You’re looking well, Moses,” Jedediah said.

  Moses flashed a rueful smile.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it, I’m afraid.”

  Jedediah turned to Mary rather than take time to apologize for his unfortunate choice of words.

  “You’re looking awful pretty tonight, Mary. If young Mr. Abram doesn’t mind my saying so, of course.”

  “Why would I mind?” Abram asked irritably. Clara couldn’t tell if he was more upset by Jedediah’s attention to Mary or the giggles that flowed from Mary in response.

  “Clara, you are a beacon as always.” Clara didn’t respond to his flattery so Jedediah turned back to Enid. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your supper, Mrs. Bragg. I just came to deliver the news and offer to escort Clara and her family home.”

  “How did you know to find us here?” Clara asked.

  “Where else would you be? There are only a few places a respectable woman would be at this time of night if not in her own home. When I didn’t see you at the church, I figured you would be here.” He offered his arm. “Would you allow me the pleasure of escorting you home?”

  “No offense, Mr. Ogletree, but Percy and I can look after our sister,” Abram said.

  Jedediah grinned.

  “I’m not trying to take your place, boys. I’m simply offering a helping hand.”

  “The same kind of helping hand your papa offered mine when he tried to steal his land out from under him?”

  Jedediah’s smile faltered.

  “You’re tall for your age, but you’re still just a boy, Abram. Do yourself a favor and don’t make pronouncements like the one you just uttered until you’re old enough to defend them.”

  Jedediah pushed his coat aside so Abram could see the pistol holstered around his waist. Just like he did when the bear bore down on him, Abram stood his ground.

  “I ain’t scared of you, Mr. Ogletree. You and your papa might be rich, but you’re still just men.” He jabbed a bony finger into Jedediah’s broad chest. “And you ain’t man enough for my sister so you best stay away from her, you hear?”

  Jedediah ruffled Abram’s hair to show him he still thought of him as a boy instead of the man he was trying to be.

  “Why don’t we let your sister have final say? She has a mind of her own. We might as well give her a chance to speak it. What do you say, Clara? Would you like me to see you home?”

  He offered his arm, but Clara didn’t take it. She didn’t cotton to the way he treated Abram or the way he talked down to her.

  “Thank you for the offer, but we can see ourselves home. Come on, boys. Let’s go before it gets too dark for us to find our way.”

  “As you wish.” Jedediah bowed and made his way to the door. “I’ll come back this way tomorrow to check on you. Your farms are pretty close together, but your nearest neighbors are miles away. A bunch of women with no men around to protect you. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you while you’re out here all alone.”

  “We aren’t alone,” Clara said. “Enid and Mary have Moses to look out for them, and the boys and I can take care of ourselves.”

  “A blind man and two boys without so much as a hint of peach fuzz on their chins aren’t any protection at all. Like it or not, you need me, Clara. My men and I are responsible for everyone in this town. That includes you and everyone else here. It’s my job to keep you safe from harm. That means protecting you from the Yankees as well as yourselves. Loyalties are divided in this war. Opinions differ from house to house.”

  Jedediah paused as if something had just occurred to him.

  “You do know this is Rebel territory, don’t you?” he asked.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Part of my job is to root out Yankee sympathizers. Oftentimes the people you least suspect of giving aid to the enemy are the most guilty. Do you keep pushing me away because you’re afraid of what I might find if I got too close? If I searched your barn, I wouldn’t find any yellow-bellied Yankee deserters hiding under the pine straw, would I?”

  “Are you accusing them of being traitors, Jed?” Enid asked. “Clara and her kin are as loyal to the Confederacy as the rest of us. Her father and brother are off fighting the Yanks right now. I’ve known Clara since she was born. There’s no way she would ever turn on her own.”

  Jedediah rested the heel of his hand on the butt of his pistol.

  “That’s good to hear. I like loyalty in a woman. Especially in one I plan to make my wife one day.” He tipped his hat. “I’ll see you in the morning, Clara.”

  “That boy’s as big a bully as his father was when we were growing up,” Enid said after Jedediah strode down the steps, mounted his horse, and rode away. “I wish someone would put him in his place one day.”

  Like the end of the war, Clara feared that glorious day might never come.

  Chapter Five

  Wilhelmina moved closer to the flames as Erwin roasted a rabbit on a spit over a roaring fire. The mood in camp was relatively upbeat tonight. Everyone had finally recovered from the long march from Bowling Green, Kentucky, to Nashville, Tennessee, and they were making themselves busy getting to know their new colleagues. The regiment’s numbers had swelled after the 77th Pennsylvania Infantry joined forces with the 5th Brigade, 2nd Division of the Army of the Ohio. Their current camp along the banks of the Tennessee River teemed with so many men it was practically a city in itself.

  Wilhelmina was still getting used to all the new faces. She had come to recognize a few but still didn’t know most of them by name. Rivalries had formed between the different companies that composed the overall regiment. Their commanding officers had assured them they didn’t have to like each other in order to move as one unit, but Wilhelmina hoped someone’s grudge against a fellow Union soldier didn’t result in unnecessary bloodshed.

  Violin music drifted from the open mouth of one tent. A group of men played a raucous game of poker outside another. Wilhelmina watched as money changed hands, most of it winding up in Maynard Harrison’s possession. Pay for Union privates was only thirteen dollars per month, though officers received much more. Based on the pile of bil
ls in front of him, Maynard had enough money to pay a colonel’s salary.

  Most men slept three and four to a tent. Wilhelmina shared her quarters with Erwin and twelve-year-old drummer boy Billy Freeman. Erwin snored louder than a freight train and Billy didn’t stop tapping on his drum even in his sleep, but Wilhelmina would rather put up with their noise than some of the other men’s bluster.

  “Did you hear the news?” Erwin asked as he sawed a piece of meat off the rabbit with his pocketknife. “We’re moving out tomorrow.”

  Wilhelmina took two pieces of meat, one for Billy and one for herself. The meals she and the rest of her fellow soldiers prepared from the small game they trapped and the fruits and vegetables they foraged from the fields and orchards they marched through weren’t as fancy as the ones Rose used to dish up back in Philadelphia, but they would do in a pinch.

  “Where are we headed this time?”

  “Savannah.”

  “Georgia?” Wilhelmina asked incredulously. “Surely they don’t expect us to walk that far.”

  “No, son,” Erwin said with a chuckle. “Savannah, Tennessee. It’s a small town just north of the border between Tennessee and Mississippi. We should be able to make the journey in a week to ten days rather than the months it would take for the trip you’re proposing.”

  Wilhelmina smiled at Erwin’s gentle ribbing. It was different when Maynard teased her. When Maynard made fun of her, he seemed to do it out of spite. When Erwin did it, it was obviously out of affection.

  “I think Mississippi is General Grant’s ultimate destination,” Erwin said. “The Mobile and Ohio Railroad is located in Corinth, Mississippi. It serves as a vital supply line for the Confederate forces in Tennessee and Virginia. If we make it to Corinth unscathed, we can strike a blow straight to the heart of the Confederacy. Are you finally ready to fire that gun of yours at a moving target rather than a stationary one?”

  Their path from Pennsylvania to Tennessee had been uneventful thus far. Weeks of marching, days of drills, and hours of idleness, but no skirmishes with the enemy. Wilhelmina wasn’t surprised by the lack of action. There wasn’t much fighting during the winter months. In some campsites, soldiers were too busy building huts and log cabins to pick up their rifles. Wilhelmina sensed that was about to change. And soon.

  She reached for her rifle, which her commanding officer insisted should never be too far away.

  “The two most important pieces of steel in this war,” he had said the first time he addressed the supplemental troops, “are the one in your hands and the one between your legs.”

  Wilhelmina was one piece short by her count, but she never let the other out of her sight.

  “I’m ready, sir.”

  Erwin dug a half-rotten potato out of the coals and sliced it open. “You don’t have to call me sir, son. I’m a private just like you.”

  “I can’t help it, sir. My father taught me to treat my elders with respect.”

  “I’ve never heard you call Maynard sir. He’s your elder, too, isn’t he?”

  “He’s also an arrogant bastard. My father never said anything about having to respect them.”

  Billy snickered at the expletive, and Erwin laughed so loud even the poker players stopped telling lies about the scores of women they had allegedly bedded in order to take a long look at him.

  “He sounds like a wise man, your father,” Erwin said.

  Wilhelmina sliced two more pieces of meat and gave Billy the bigger hunk. They usually ate at least twice a day, but the boy never seemed to get full.

  “He can be about some things.”

  “And the rest?”

  Wilhelmina chewed thoughtfully as Billy licked his greasy fingers.

  “Let’s just say he and I agree to disagree.”

  Her father had always claimed not to understand her, but he had never attempted to rectify the situation. She had given up on trying to curry his favor years ago, though she still ached to earn his respect.

  “Don’t let your differences drive too deep a wedge between you. In my humble opinion, the most important things in life are loyalty and honor, but there’s nothing more important than family.”

  Wilhelmina wondered how her family was reacting to her absence. She hadn’t been foolish enough to tell them she planned to enlist. Only Libby and Rose were privy to that information. The letter she had left behind said she was leaving to help the war effort, but she hadn’t provided any specifics. Her father had most likely assumed she had run away to become a nurse in one of the overflowing makeshift infirmaries that were popping up all over the country. Churches, schools, barns, and even houses had been turned into hospitals to treat the wounded, sick, and dying men that had walked, crawled, or been carried from the battlefields. There were plenty of people lined up to protect and care for those men. The ones who needed her help the most were the comrades they had left behind.

  She wished she had news from Libby. Before she left home, she had sworn to write to Libby every day. She had kept her promise, penning long letters by the dim light of her lantern after Erwin and Billy had fallen asleep. But she had yet to receive any return correspondence. Had Libby received her missives and failed to reply to them, or was the mail delivery system so slow that Libby’s letters had not had an opportunity to reach her before the regiment abandoned one position for another? Perhaps tomorrow’s arrival of the supply train would result in much-welcomed mail in addition to much-needed food and equipment.

  “I shall return momentarily, son. I’m afraid I need to heed the call of nature.” Erwin grimaced as he rubbed his stomach. “Perhaps taking a chance on that potato wasn’t such a good idea after all.” He grimaced again. “If you hear trumpeting, I doubt it will be the bugler playing ‘Reveille.’”

  Wilhelmina suppressed a smile, not wanting to make light of his discomfort.

  “I hope you feel better soon, sir.”

  Erwin grabbed his rifle and headed off to a thick patch of woods along the edge of camp. For her sake, Wilhelmina hoped the area he had chosen was downwind. He had been gone only a few minutes when she heard a commotion coming from the spot she had seen him walking toward. She heard a gunshot, followed by a shout of, “Halt! Who goes there?”

  “The Rebs are here!” another voice yelled. “The Rebs are here!”

  The cry echoed around camp.

  As the men around her picked up their weapons and began to run toward the noise, Wilhelmina did the same. Her regiment ran through drills several times a day, sometimes for hours at a time. The actions they performed were so familiar they had become automatic. Until now.

  She tried to remember her training as she joined the horde of men streaming toward a common cause, but her thoughts were a jumble. She felt on the verge of panic. She couldn’t even remember the proper way to load her rifle, the simplest and first task she had learned after she enlisted.

  What was she supposed to do first, place the percussion cap or load the cartridge? Hopefully, instinct would kick in. As she ran past flickering campfires toward an unseen enemy, she had no idea what she would do when she met them face-to-face.

  She skidded to a stop when she saw Erwin holding his pants up with one hand while he led two bedraggled men out of the woods at gunpoint. There was an unwritten rule that enemy combatants didn’t shoot each other while they were relieving themselves, but Wilhelmina didn’t know if the same rule applied to taking prisoners.

  The men in Erwin’s custody were Confederate soldiers, though their uniforms—if you could still call them that—were so filthy the gray cloth looked black. Their greasy hair was crawling with lice. One was an older man with a heavy salt-and-pepper beard. The one beside him was several years younger. Beneath the dirt caked on their faces, they looked enough alike to be father and son. They walked with their hands up, their wide eyes trained on the half-eaten food resting on the soldiers’ abandoned plates.

  “Please,” the younger man said, “we don’t mean no harm. We just want something to eat
. My papa’s sick, and he could use a decent meal.”

  “We’ll let Colonel Stumbaugh decide that,” Maynard said. “Fasten your pants, Weekley. Nobody wants to see your flabby pecker flapping in the breeze. I’ll see to these Rebs while you make yourself decent.”

  A few men laughed nervously, but most kept their eyes on the prisoners as Maynard herded them toward Colonel Stumbaugh’s tent.

  “Move, you two!”

  Maynard shoved both men forward. The older one stumbled and went down. He tried to get up, but he fell face-first on the ground. His body shook as a coughing attack seized him. His stringy hair framed his face as he sprayed blood on the snow.

  “Are you okay, Papa?” the younger man asked.

  The older man nodded and tried to speak, but his eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.

  “Talk to me, Papa. Can you hear me?”

  The younger man frantically shook the older one by his scrawny shoulders and redoubled his efforts when he didn’t receive a response.

  Erwin fell to his knees and wiped the blood off the older man’s chin after he shoved the younger one out of his way.

  “Somebody get the doc over here. I think this man has pneumonia.”

  “Let him die,” Maynard said heartlessly. “It’ll be one less Reb for us to kill.”

  Erwin rested the stricken man’s head in his lap.

  “That isn’t a very Christian attitude.”

  “The Union isn’t paying me to be a Christian,” Maynard said. “It’s paying me to be a soldier.”

  He dragged the younger man away.

  “I’m taking this one to Colonel Stumbaugh. You can do what you want with that one.”

  The other men looked back and forth between Maynard and Erwin as if trying to decide which one to side with.

  “I’ll help you take him to Doc Gibson’s tent, Mr. Weekley,” Wilhelmina said, making her choice. “You take his arms. I’ll grab his legs.”

  “Thank you, son,” Erwin said gratefully.

  After they tucked their rifles under their arms, they carried the Confederate soldier to the medical tent and deposited him on a wooden table. Bottles of various liquids and jars of smelly ointments lined another table. Next to them lay a neat row of tools. Saws, hammers, pliers, knives, and chisels. All the equipment Dr. Theodore Gibson needed to separate men from their wounded or infected limbs.