Afternoon of October 5, 1863
Chatanooga
Eli sat with his back to the wall of the new fort the 125th was assigned to defend, situated beside a long line of breastworks just outside Chattanooga.
The rebels opened a bombardment that morning that continued all day, the rumble of artillery reverberating down the mountains and along the Tennessee River like a summer thunderstorm. They had eight cannon of their own in the fort, including two larger Parrot guns with a range of four miles. They returned the rebel fire, which made the fort tremble and shook dust from the rafters. After a few hours of continuous exchanges, Eli ceased to pay it any more attention than he gave a barking dog.
Colonel Opdycke inspected the regiment earlier and told everyone to rest easy, since the odds on getting hurt by such long-range and inaccurate fire were less than one in ten thousand. Eli wondered how he calculated that, and then reflected that still came to about four men being killed or maimed by the end of the day given the size of their army.
Eli took the opportunity to look through a telescope the gunners used to gauge the effectiveness of their fire on the rebel positions on Missionary Ridge. He easily made out men in butternut shirts and pants standing casually with their hands in their pockets gazing back at the Union lines. The fire returned by Union artillery did not have any more effect on them than their fire did on Federal forces.
Eli returned to the bible he bought after his argument with Big Joe, who returned to camp from the hospital although he still looked far from well. They ignored each other, much to Al Belshiem’s complete befuddlement. Al kept asking about the obvious rift, but neither answered his questions.
Al sat next to Eli with Joe a little further away. Joe mostly slept despite the racket.
“What's this word?” said Eli to Al, pointing to his book.
Al looked down and said, “Speak. It says, ‘If I speak in tongues of men and of angels...’”
“Don’t tell me what it all says,” complained Eli jerking the book away. “I just want help with one word. If you tell me all of it, I won’t learn it on my own.”
“Well you keep asking me every other damn word,” Al groused back at him. “It saves time if I read the whole thing and you ain’t pestering me every minute.”
“I just need some help once in a while,” grumbled Eli.
Another rebel shell hit the fort with a shuddering thump that rained dust on their heads. Eli absently brushed it off his book without looking up.
“So that word is ‘speak.’ Then the first three words say, ‘If I speak.’” Pleased with himself, he even knew the next two words were “in” and “the.” So he knew, ‘If I speak in the...’ But the next word completely bollixed him.
Damn, he thought, will I ever get to where I can read a whole sentence? He remembered when Al read it he said tongues. He sounded the word out, and sure enough that was what it said. ‘If I speak in the tongues of...’
“So why in thunder are you reading that, anyway?” said Al. “You ain’t enjoying it none with all your frowning ‘n squinting ‘n sighing over it. You act like the devil his self was sticking a pitchfork up your backside.”
Eli almost said Joe picked the passage out as one he should try, along with several others, but then thought better of it. That would just lead Al to ask again why he and Joe did not talk to each other.
“And why ain’t you and Joe talking?” said Al. “It sure don't make no sense. He saved your life and then you saved his. He’d a died sure but for you. I seen plenty a men with camp fever like that die. I reckon it kills more a us then them rebels.”
Eli groaned. “We had a disagreement. Just leave it be.”
“Well, if you talked to Joe it would save me the trouble of giving you every damn word in that book,” said Al.
“You got better things to do?” asked Eli sardonically.
The cannons in their fort roared back at the Confederates. Al sighed. “I guess I ain’t. I never thought going to war would be so all fired boring, I can tell you that.”