Matthew had picket duty at Camp Stedman the night the final offensive began. The little moth-eaten fortification was tucked down between Fort Haskell and Fort McGilvery. It blocked the way to General Grant’s headquarters at City Point and shielded access to the heights guarding Grant’s supply rail line. Because of its location, the fort had received countless shellings, which had nearly reduced its logs to kindling.
Just before dawn, shortly after the officer on duty checked the picket lines, Matthew heard the crunch of gravel. “Halt!” He ordered. He saw the man, another deserter. He sighed with relief. “Hands up and state your intentions.”
“Going over the hill. Have a bite to spare? I’ve got my gun.”
“We don’t need any guns. Save it for squirrel hunting,” Matthew lowered his musket. Suddenly the Rebel yell erupted from all points on the picket line. As Matthew whirled around, men in gray surged into Camp Stedman, surrounding the surprised Yanks before they could rush to arms.
“Gotcha!” The musket nudged Matthew; he hesitated, unable to believe the deception as he stared into the face of the ragged, gaunt Rebel. “Look behind ya!” chortled his captor. Matthew looked. The first light of dawn revealed the crowd in gray swarming into the Federal fortification.
“We’ve lost it if they’ve covered the other two forts,” muttered the guard at Matthew’s elbow.
The gray clad sergeant grinned at them. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this many Yanks together. Pack in close, men; we don’t want to waste ammunition.” He nosed them toward the log shack.
The rest of the garrison was prodded in behind them. From the fort they watched the sun rise, spreading light across the field in front of their window.
The fellow beside Matthew tensed. “Maybe all’s not lost; look out the window.” Matthew looked one moment before the blue troops surged into the clearing with muskets blazing. In every direction the Confederates fled for cover.
Matthew reacted, yelling, “Down, or our men will get us!”
“What did they do with our muskets?”
“I’ll look around.” Before their scout returned, the prisoners saw the battle had reversed. Waiting for a break, they dashed out of the fort, nearly colliding with the Ninth Corps.
“Fall to it men; up to the batteries,” snapped General Parke. They ran, but it seemed to Matthew that he had barely reloaded when the battle was over. Pale smoke drifted away, revealing the encircled gray army.
“We’ve taken two thousand prisoners,” he heard Parke say. “Lee can’t afford to lose that many men.”
“Has the final bell rung?”
“No, but this is a good start.”
****
Olivia dressed quickly and went to Crystal’s tent. “You’ve heard the gunfire?”
“Yes, I suppose this is what we’ve all been waiting for.” Olivia saw the shadows in Crystal’s eyes. She nodded as Crystal said, “I’ll come help.”
“I’m not certain it’s necessary. I just came to check on you. Listen, all seems quiet now. Go back to bed; I’ll call you if necessary.”
Olivia hurried to her post at the hospital tents. Later in the day Alex joined her with news. “The first attack was a Confederate offensive, the second ours. We have losses, and the wounded are coming in now. The first indications are that Lee has lost heavily.”
“Be prepared to receive a great many wounded,” he added. “This was just the first show of force. General Grant is moving out now. It appears that Lee’s days of staying entrenched have come to an end.” He paused. “I’d say this is the turn of events we’ve been hoping for.”
Crystal added in a low voice, “And dreading.” Olivia hugged her.
The following day they walked out of their tents into heavy rain. “What dismal weather!” Crystal shivered and rubbed her arms. “All I can do is wonder about Matthew. Occasionally I’ve heard a gunshot this morning, but it’s nearly too quiet.”
Silently they walked to the hospital tents. As Olivia began to distribute the breakfast bowls, she said, “The rain is a blessing; it keeps them from fighting.”
One of the soldiers raised himself on his elbow. She said, “Sam, lie down. You’re putting pressure on that wound.”
“Ma’am, don’t pray that we stop fighting. We gotta hang in there—get it finished up once for all; otherwise the problems will never be settled.”
She nodded her head slowly. “I know, but all the bleeding and dying is gnawing at me until I can scarcely stand it.”
“Jest your condition. Now you go sit down and drink some tea. My wife was the same.”
Olivia turned away. Blinking tears from her eyes, she said, “You are sweet, Sam; now lie down.”
“They’re pushing for Five Forks,” the orderly reported. “Know what that means?”
The answer came from one of the beds. “Victory at last.” Olivia looked at the grinning man. “They’ll cut Lee’s supply route. Can’t fight without food.”
“Those poor, poor men,” Olivia murmured as she carried the dishes back to the kitchen.
The cook was a Negro who had freed himself by walking into camp. “Ma’am,” he said respectfully, “de rebels started dis. For us dis fightin’ is like takin’ a slivah outta a young’un’s fingah. Hurts, but it gotta be done.”
Soon the rain stopped and cautious gunfire was heard. Rumors floated about the hospital compound. They heard that supply wagons and cavalry alike had been bogged motionless in the mud.
On the next day, shortly after noon on April 1st, the campaign was resumed. “Five Forks,” Olivia stated. “That soldier said if the Confederates lose it, they’ll surrender. Dear Father, please.”
When the first ambulance pulled into the field in front of the hospital, a wounded soldier sat up. His head was swathed in bandage. “Ma’am, nurse,” he demanded, “wrap this head up so’s the blood doesn’t get in my eyes. I want to get back in there. Grant’s got them. He’s capturing men right and left.”
Olivia smiled as a motherly gray-haired nurse shook her finger at him. “You just lie there until the doctor has time. You have to take your turn. I’ve got a feeling this war’s going to get won without any more outta you. Now, do you want a drink of water?”
On April second, with dawn lighting the sky in a glorious display of color, Olivia followed Alex to the hospital tents. He stopped outside a tent and turned to look toward Petersburg. “I hear gunfire. Guess we’d better get ready for them.” He glanced down at Olivia, “Do you know what day this is?”
“Palm Sunday, the day we commemorate our Lord Jesus entering Jerusalem,” she mused thoughtfully. “This morning I recalled His words as He wept over the city. ‘O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold your house is left unto you desolate.’
“Alex, how frightening those words are! Desolate! It’s a picture of cold wind sweeping through barren rooms, banging shutters.” She shivered, and whispered, “Is that a picture of America? Have we so displeased the Lord?”
“I don’t know how this war could be pleasing to Him, but Olivia, we still have His promise. If we return to Him with our whole heart, He will hear and forgive.”
“We can only try to right the wrongs which have been done,” she agreed. “Alex, I have a feeling that all will suffer, the innocent as well as the guilty.”
That day, when the first of the injured came in, they were grinning despite their pain. “We did it! Broke through Lee’s lines. It’s an open door to Petersburg. His railway lines are not worth patching up.”
As darkness fell, information coming into the hospital compound indicated that Lee was at Petersburg, with pickets posted. “That means he hasn’t surrendered,” Sam said. “I can’t believe he’s holding out so long.”
****
During the night, Olivia and Alex were awakened by excited voices. The two dressed hastily and joined the group outside. Crystal appeared just as the explosions began. “It’s Petersburg; the Rebels are destroying their stores!” One after another the blasts came, diminishing in ear-shattering sound as they moved north toward Richmond. Alex said, “It’s the batteries along the river.”
“Look!” The group turned to the north. Flames were rising above the trees.
“I’ve an idea that’s the bridge.”
“Look at Petersburg. They must have burned all the warehouses. What flames! Are the townspeople in danger?”
“I don’t know about Petersburg, but I heard Richmond’s grand folk left yesterday afternoon.”
“Seems to me those flames are over Richmond way,” came a careful voice.
Olivia and Crystal turned away, while Crystal murmured, “Those poor people. All the fighting, with loved ones lost forever, and now they are beaten down to nothing. How will they live?”
“I don’t know,” Olivia whispered. “Crystal, we both have loved ones in the South. I wonder how they’ve fared.”
Crystal shivered. “We have a responsibility to help them, but right now I want only Matthew. I can live with poverty, but I want Matthew.”
He returned two days later. Crystal clung to him, whispering, “I can’t believe that after these terrible days you manage to smile as well as look healthy and happy.”
He hugged her and then held her away to look into her eyes. “My precious Crystal. It’s over; it’s time to rejoice. It’s also time to go home and settle into being a family.”
As Alex and Olivia crossed the hospital compound, Matthew saw the relief on Alex’s face. He slipped his arm across Alex’s shoulders. “Tell me, brother, do you think we can get permission to pack up our wives and head for Pennsylvania? Crystal’s showing every symptom of needing her own little nest.”
Olivia smiled. “I’ve a feeling Dr. Jason will gladly recommend that. I don’t think he’s very comfortable with females in this condition.”
She went to kiss Matthew. For a moment her eyes darkened. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Matthew—all of us.”
“A very long way, dear sister,” he said gently.
Olivia blinked at the tears in her eyes as she watched Matthew and Crystal walk toward their tent. “Alex, I want to go home, too. Is it possible?”
He nodded. “As soon as we can pack and get to the train.”
“You won’t feel badly about leaving now?”
“No. Olivia, it’s over; the fighting is finished. Would you believe it, my conscience is at rest?” An expression of pain crossed his face, and she pressed her head against his arm.
“Alex, you needn’t pretend with me. I know—possibly more than we’ll ever be able to put into words—I know. But even scars heal.”
“And lives?” he asked. She nodded, and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Olivia, who would have dreamed all this would happen to us.”
“God knew.” She touched the brooch and saw the flash of recognition in his eyes. “Perhaps we knew; inside, we knew something would be demanded of us—”
“Something that would call for the deep resources of God. Life has demanded a sureness, a trust in God much deeper than I would have thought possible. It’s been a necessity for facing all of this.”
“His Holy Spirit. I tremble to think of running into this blindly. But even now, Alex, I doubt you’ll assure me that life from this point on will be just golden roses without a touch of darkness.”
“Is that what you want me to say?”
“No. I stand by the commitment I made then. Alex, back then, before I dreamed life would treat us in such a manner, I struggled with the big step of trust. If I had it to do over again, I’d still tremble and wonder, but I wouldn’t hesitate. Alex, my lover, my friend, I—” She gasped and reached for his hand. “Quick! Feel there. That is your child, feel how strong he kicks!”
She saw the tears on his face as he held her and quoted softly, “‘Be glad then, ye children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God: for he hath given you the former rain…. And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten…. And ye shall know that I am in the midst of Israel.’”
She looked at him. “And God blesses and blesses again.”
Tenderly he tucked her arm through his. “Let’s go home, my dear, and get ready for that little one.”