“Alex, we could lose this war; things aren’t going well,” Olivia watched him. He continued packing his kit without answering. “In addition to the war, President Lincoln is fearful of losing the election. Those men are trying to get him out—Fremont with his campaign, and General McClellan, who’s running against him on the Democratic ticket.”
Alex nodded. “I’ve heard McClellan has been accused of holding back his army because of his pro-slavery feelings.” He smiled down at her. “The South’s interest in the Federal election is interesting for two reasons. First, their avowed reason for war is freedom from the North. Second, if the South expects to win the war, there is no reason they should concern themselves with this election.”
She nodded. “But if Lincoln fails to win, we could lose the war and freedom for the slaves.”
“That’s right.” He packed his new Bible. “But to say things aren’t going well is to overlook the obvious. The North has been flopping around for three years, needing a strong general. Without a doubt, Grant is the man. We know Sherman will clean out his end of the South—perhaps not in the manner the South would care to have this done.”
“What do you mean?”
“Total war is Sherman’s pet phrase. The North came into this war reluctantly, as if they couldn’t believe the South was serious. Given the outcome, both at this minute and at the final battle, I doubt there’s a man on either side of the Union who doesn’t wish he’d done his best to prevent this war.”
Slowly Olivia said, “If we hadn’t become involved in the Underground Railroad, some of the bad feelings would have been avoided.”
“Freedom for the slaves, for all people, isn’t an option; it’s an absolute necessity.”
“But the South’s way of life—Alex, you and I know what a wrenching situation it has been to give up slavery. These people are losing millions of dollars in slave labor. It is worse than burning plantations and fields, factories and stores. To them it is as if their very heart has been pulled out.”
“My dear, they’ll have to hire laborers at a decent wage and with acceptable living conditions,” Alex stated. “Is the South’s problem any different than the upheaval these black people suffered when they were torn from their homeland and from their people? In their culture, some of these people were as influential, wealthy, and content with life as our parents and grandparents have been. Can we say there is a difference?”
“You know I agree. Alex, what are we going to do with our lives after this is over?”
“I’m not certain, Olivia. I’ve prayed for wisdom, mostly because there is one thing catching my attention now. I’m not certain how the Lord will guide. Olivia, when this is over, I’d like to pass my bar exams and use my law education as a means of seeing change in this country. Emancipation is only on paper; it needs to be stamped on the hearts of every American.”
She smiled and touched his face. “Oh, Alex, it’s just exactly what I would expect of you.” Patting his cheek, she said, “Crystal and Matthew want to be part of the educational system. Crystal told me that for years she’s been haunted by the illiteracy of these people.”
Alex nodded. “But right now we have a war to fight. Have you packed all you’ll need?”
“Yes, and I’ve made arrangements with the Sanitary Commission to nurse in their facilities.” She crossed the room to kiss him. Gently tugging his face around, she said, “I’m telling you this now, there may not be opportunity later. Alex, you are more precious to me than anything or anyone. Without you I’m incomplete, but I’ve lived with loss and if necessary I can do it again. Please, don’t worry about me, either about my being hurt or about your—” she caught her breath and finished, “leaving me behind.”
“Yes, Madam General,” he said tenderly, touching one of the gold blossoms on the brooch. “I have a feeling you’ll do just fine. Furthermore, I expect to see you ordering around the Army of the Potomac within two weeks.”
Ignoring the twinkle in his eyes, she said, “I’m glad Beth is going to Ohio with Mike. She’s surprisingly level-headed in a crisis. The hospital will find a place for her.”
“I’m praying you and Crystal will be in the same nursing group,” he said tenderly as he pressed her palm to his lips.
Later that day Alex and Matthew were placed in regiments assigned to the Army of the Potomac. Just before they left, Alex squeezed Olivia’s hand and said, “This is ironic, but we’re heading for the Rappahannock. We’ll be encamped nearly in the same spot we were a year ago after the battle of Chancellorsville.” He kissed her and said, “I’ll see you next week when the supplies and ambulances are sent in.”
The following week when Olivia and Crystal boarded the Union supply train going south, Crystal asked, “Why the stack of newspapers?”
“Because Alex asked me to bring them.”
“The news will only discourage him. General Grant has sent three of his generals out, and all of them have failed to accomplish his assignment. General Banks botched his Louisiana job; the Rebels are entrenched firmly across the Mississippi. General Butler was so slow that his campaign on the James River became a plum in Beauregard’s hand. Shall I go on?”
“No, it sounds worse when you say it!” Olivia looked up with a smile. “But there’s West Virginia! Crystal, it’s been nearly a year since that slice of Virginia became a state. And now she has emancipation written into her constitution.”
“I understand Arkansas did the same thing,” Crystal murmured, picking up a newspaper.
The following day, medical personnel and supplies were unloaded on the banks of the Rappahannock. They were told the troops had begun their march across the Rapidan River in their first move against General Lee.
The surgeon in charge, Dr. Jason, briefed the group of male and female nurses. “You have fifteen minutes to get your tents and supplies, and be here waiting for the ambulances. We will cross the rivers on pontoon bridges. When the battlesite is abandoned, we’ll move in, establish our camp, and treat the wounded.”
Crystal began shivering. Glancing apologetically at Olivia, she muttered, “Sorry; give me a day to grow accustomed to this.”
During the day a courier came with news for the team positioned north of the Rapidan River. “The battle is taking place in the wilderness. The men are fighting in thick woods, and it appears the woods have been set afire by all the shelling. We’ll have to attempt rescue of the wounded before they are burned to death.”
Olivia turned to the southeast and saw the heavy columns of smoke. One of the male nurses stopped beside her. “I hear the soldiers have started rescue efforts. Dr. Jason has ordered the women to remain here while we go in.” As he turned away he said, “I wonder if he’ll keep his promise to Lincoln.”
“What promise?”
“Grant told Lincoln that no matter what, there’ll be no turning back. They’ve regrouped, but they’re holding their position.”
The next morning Grant’s army moved, not in retreat across the river as everyone expected, but south. From the tents where Olivia and Crystal dressed wounds, they could hear the men singing as they headed toward Richmond.
“There’s no skedaddle here,” chortled one of the wounded. He added, “Lady, I was here the last time, and I tell you it feels good to push on. For the first time in a Virginia campaign, the army has stayed on the offensive.”
General Grant continued to press the offensive. Day after day the Federal Army pursued the Confederate Army, and just as doggedly the Rebels fought back. Casualties mounted.
At Spotsylvania the Confederates built strong fieldworks, and slowly the Union troops gave way under the continued pressure.
Briefly Olivia saw Alex when he came into camp. His face was coated with black from biting off the ends of cartridges.
“This is a difficult battle,” he murmured, taking a mug of coffee from her. She wiped his face with a wet towel as he continued, “We’re no longer fighting an organized battle. This has become a clawing, digging fight for survival. I heard that Grant wired Lincoln that his intention is to fight it out on this line, even if it takes all summer.”
Olivia said, “One of the men on burial detail said they found a trench with a hundred and fifty dead Confederate soldiers sprawled on top of each other. He said the team just pushed the dirt in upon them.”
A week later, Crystal looked around the tents filled with wounded. “And these are the ones who can’t be taken to camp. How much longer is this going on?”
“They are talking about moving the hospital tents nearer Petersburg. I don’t know when it will happen.”
“Just don’t talk retreat.” A wounded soldier lifted his head, “Ma’am, I ain’t seen nothing like it. Last time we were here, we rested before doing battle again. This General Grant keeps nipping at our heels. The men are bloody tired.”
“If our heels get nipped,” his comrade said, “think what’s happening to Lee’s. Grant might know something about fighting we don’t.”
During the following weeks the relentless General Grant kept his men hard on the trail of Lee’s army. Alex reported to Olivia, “We move, they move; it’s like some elaborate ballroom dance. It’s been four weeks now,” he recounted, “and we’ve never lost sight of each other.”
The next encounter took place at Cold Harbor. Grant was backed into a corner and forced to retreat. For a few days the men were in camp while Grant sent General Hunter up the Shenandoah to destroy railroads and the Confederate supply depot at Lynchburg.
Alex had lost weight. Even his voice was hoarse with fatigue. “Our losses have been the worst of the war,” he said.
He and Olivia were in their tent, shuttered away from the others. Exhausted by the heat, they lay on cots, hoping for a cool breeze. Restlessly Olivia sat up to listen to the cries of the wounded. “Alex, the men are dying, being wounded at a rate I didn’t believe possible. This can’t continue; General Grant won’t have an army in another week.”
Alex turned his head. “My dear, if you think Grant will be without an army, don’t worry. More men are being brought in. Artillery is coming in from Washington.”
“This seems desperate.”
“Not so,” he insisted. “For the first time, I’m seeing these men fight as if there’s no back door. They are exhausted, but strangely committed. It’s more spiritual than physical. I think we’ve all accepted an unstated fact. It’s now or never. We are fighting for our collective life.” He reached out to touch her shoulder. “And Olivia, I think if you were out there, you wouldn’t be this discouraged. We’re close to Richmond; when all is quiet, we can hear the church bells.”
She began to smile and he came to kiss her, whispering, “Don’t give up now. Your attitude will affect the wounded. Livie, it’s going to be over soon, and we’ll go home, back to Pennsylvania.”
“But the country will be—”
“No, not destroyed. It will recover, and we’ll be around to help.” He touched the brooch she wore and kissed her again.
During the following days, General Lee entrenched at Petersburg and General Grant followed, moving his men in to face the Confederates as they dug their own trenches. Siege was inevitable.
“Just like Vicksburg,” Crystal murmured. Her eyes were dark and troubled as she turned away.
As September waned, the intense heat lessened. The medical personnel as well as the soldiers began to recover their strength and spirit.
General Grant sent General Sheridan up the Shenandoah Valley to rout General Early. When they heard the news, Olivia said, “Dare we say we’re on the winning side?”
“At least we’re on the side doing the most damage right now,” Crystal commented wryly. “Sheridan’s goal is to sweep the Shenandoah Valley bare of all the produce, grain, and cattle, since it supplies the Confederate Army and all the guerrillas in the area. He’s ruined everything.”
“Oh!” Olivia looked up. “Finally, the Republican Party is getting their act together. They are no longer talking about replacing Lincoln. General Fremont has dropped his bid for the presidency, and some of the other radicals are declaring their intentions to support the President.”
****
Again the hospital tents were moved nearer the Richmond-Petersburg area.
October passed, then came Election Day. As Olivia adjusted a bandage and reached for the mug of water, her patient drank gratefully and said, “I’ll be glad when I can use my hand again. Be glad, too, when we hear President Lincoln has won. Sure would be a shame to change horses in midstream.”
“I don’t expect that to happen, do you?” She moved on.
The following morning General Grant was advised by telegraph of Lincoln’s victory. News quickly spread through the entrenchments and the hospital tents. Olivia watched the excited men discussing the election. “Too bad we can’t have election every day,” she declared. “Not a one of you has complained about his wounds.”
A curly-haired youth with mischievous eyes said, “They’re still there.” She tousled his hair.
When the next supply train arrived, the newspapers stated that General Sherman had left Atlanta and was sweeping toward Savannah. “He’s spreading a broad path of destruction as he goes,” Crystal commented. “Everything is being destroyed—homes, railroads, food supplies.”
Alex came into camp the following day. Olivia handed him the newspapers she had saved.
After the men were fed and settled for the evening, Alex followed Olivia to their tent. She looked at him and said, “My tired, dirty husband. I’m going to beg the cook for some hot water, and then you can scrub.”
When she returned, Alex was asleep. By the light of the lantern, she studied his thin, care-worn face and sighed. He sat up. “That sigh was like a rifle shot.”
“Sorry. I was looking at your face.”
“Is it that bad?”
“You need to rest away from battle.” She found a towel for him. “Alex, is Grant going to stay holed up all winter?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Certainly we can’t breach the fortifications Lee’s thrown up. We’re not too uncomfortable. Considering the circumstances, it beats running all over the country. I wish you could see the trenches. We learned much from observing Lee.”
“Isn’t a trench just a groove cut in the ground?”
“No. We tunnel around like moles, only our burrow doesn’t have a top on it. It makes a nice way to get around the territory without having your head shot off.”
“Is Petersburg important to the Confederates?”
“Very. Fortunately for us, Richmond doesn’t have food to feed their soldiers during a siege; their stores are at Petersburg. But they only have enough for about thirteen days; they need access to the trains. Unfortunately for us Yankee newcomers, Richmond has had two years to build works around the city, and they are deeply dug in.
“Richmond is the hub of the railway coming in from the agricultural areas in the other states. Since Virginia doesn’t produce much food, that’s very important. If—when we cut the three rail lines, they’ll have to surrender.”
“Destroying railroads doesn’t sound too difficult. You’ve destroyed train track in the past.”
“Not like this. Richmond and Petersburg are surrounded with the same dense forest they have in the wilderness. We can’t get close to Richmond, so we’ll concentrate on the lines south. The Confederates have the easy job. It’s easier to guard the rails than to tear them up.”
He nuzzled her neck and murmured, “But I think we’re about to call it quits for the winter. That means we’ll be free to come behind lines more often. It’d be nice if we could close up shop, just lock the door on the whole business for the winter.” Alex reached for her. “Now, no more war talk. Do you have the Bible here? Will you read to me?”
“Only if you promise to stay awake.” She sat beside him and opened the Bible. “‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge…’” She saw he was asleep.
****
“Duncan, Warren is taking his men out to tear up some track. They can use a few extra men. Round up a detachment from your regiment, draw your rations, and report to Warren.”
When Alex and his men reached the road, Warren was briefing his men. “The Weldon Railroad has been destroyed only for a short way. The Confederates are still making use of it. They obtain supplies from the blockade runners at Wilmington, and carry them by train to within a few miles of Richmond. From there freight wagons pack the goods on in. We’ll line the track in battle formation. Each man will be responsible for tearing up the track in front of him. When that section is destroyed, the division will move to the left and continue. Let’s go.”
After arriving at the tracks, Warren walked the line, watching the men rip up the rails, heat them in bonfires, and twist them around tree trunks. “Fellas, you’re doing fine. We’ll have destroyed twenty miles of track by day’s end. I—” The general wheeled around as he heard a rifle.
“Men, give it to them!”
Around the curve of tracks Alex saw the Confederate battle flag, the gray uniforms. He lifted his musket and charged. Within minutes they were into the trees, and both armies became obscure shadows in the darkness. Alex faltered, fearful of hitting his own men.
A shot seemed to explode in his ear. Tree branches lashed his face. When he moved and opened his eyes only the quietness of the forest surrounded him. His leg was beginning to throb. Slowly he sat up. From the thigh down, his uniform was soaked with blood. A dark pool of it spread in the spongy soil.
Fighting the blackness that seemed to be moving across his vision, he began shredding his coat into strips. Father, help me! I can’t manage. With shaking hands he tied the strips around his leg above the gushing red. He hesitated, pulled the fragments of his trousers over the wound and tied the final piece over it all. Slowly he moved backward to a level spot and lay flat on the mossy ground. Above him the trees moved and dipped. He closed his eyes.
“Help, somebody, help me!” Alex turned his head and listened. The cry came again, faint now. He sat up and looked at his leg. The bleeding was a slow seepage. “Help!”
Taking a deep breath, Alex began to ease himself over the ground toward the voice still calling feebly. At last he saw a figure on the ground. Perspiring and trembling, he stopped. The man’s torso was covered with blood; his shoulder, encased in shredded gray, seemed shattered. “Hey, buddy, I’m here. Guess we’re both in about the same condition.”
“Water?”
“I don’t know of any around here. I could use some, too. Maybe I can look around.”
“Don’t leave me. I—I’m dying. Please Yank, don’t leave me here by myself. It’s too late for help. Seems dark, but don’t leave me to die by myself.”
Cautiously Alex stretched out beside the man. The ground began to seem warm and comforting, and he wondered if he were dying, too.
The man spoke. Alex turned his head; he could see the man’s eyes were wide and dark. “Charles Temps, from Macon.” He licked his lips. “Could be we die before we learn to live, huh?”
“Seems that way. I’m Alex Duncan.”
“Do you mind dying now?”
“I don’t think I’m that badly hurt. I tied part of my coat around the wound.” He sat up and loosened the rags. The bleeding increased, and he replaced the primitive tourniquet.
Alex glanced at his companion, silent now, pale. The lad swallowed, licked his lips. “Took a shot right through the middle. Makes you wonder if war’s worth dying for. Ever hear that song about the Bonnie Blue Flag? It’s funny, they come around singing, and it makes fighting sound like the thing to do.”
The lad’s eyes closed. Suddenly he looked around. “Are you here?”
“I’m here.”
“Back then I didn’t think about dying. Did I die for the right cause?”
“Seems now’s not the time to ask. Back then what did you think?”
“It’s easy to enlist, then we’re caught. Now that I must die for the cause, it’s too late to back out. If I had it to do over again, I’d—”
“Boy, we all make mistakes. Do you hear?” The lad closed his eyes and then opened them. Alex said, “Now’s not the time to chew them over. But dying isn’t the end of it all.”
“How d’you know?”
“God’s Word, the Bible. His Son, Jesus Christ, died for your sins because He loved you.”
“I know. I heard General Lee saying all that to us soldiers. About how knowing God was most important, even more than loyalty to country. But that comes second.”
“Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?”
“Yes. Sometimes I don’t spend much time thinking about it, but now I guess it’s the time to think. Soldier, do you think I’m going to heaven?”
“If you’ve asked Jesus to forgive your sins, and you believe He has, well then you’re part of the kingdom of God.” The lad’s face relaxed. In a few minutes his breathing stopped. For a time Alex watched, aware of the quietness around him, the creeping dampness of the forest chilling him.
When the evening mists moved through the trees, Alex sat up. He measured the strength of his good leg and saw the dry branch just beyond his hand. “Better get at it, man.”
Using the stick as a crutch, he moved slowly through the forest toward the spot of light. Occasionally he stopped to check the bleeding, to ease the tightness of the crude bandage. The moon was rising like a milky splash of light behind the fog. He followed the road, wondering how long he could walk without breaking the wound open, and how long he could lie on the ground without freezing. He was still pondering when he heard the jingle of harness, the creak of wheels. Looking up, he was relieved to see an ambulance.
“Well, soldier, come along. Are there others in there?”
“I don’t know. I heard only one, and he died while I was there.” There was a firm hand under his arm, hay in the bottom of the ambulance, and a warm blanket to cover him.