CHAPTER EIGHT: AUTUMN TROUBLES

Hosea Curtis continued to milk his injuries for the rest of August. Jimmy and Bucky still were excused from duty to tend to the sergeant. Most days they lounged about their bivouac until midmorning and then wandered down to the Rappahannock to fish or swim. One afternoon after they caught a fine mess of bass, they held a stone skipping contest in a still pool of the river. Bucky beat the others after his propelled piece of slate bounced fifteen times across the glassy water before sinking near the opposite bank.

Before Jewett’s congratulations echoed off downriver, Culp said, “I can’t believe Hartshorne is lettin’ us set ’round this long. ’Specially after the way he dogged us since Antietam.”

“I think it took the major time to grow into his command,” replied Jimmy thoughtfully. “He must have finally realized that he doesn’t have to bully people to maintain discipline.”

“Or maybe he still has nightmares o’ my father-in-law wavin’ that ten gauge under his nose,” laughed Bucky. “The major had better be nice ta me now that I belong ta the Pfaff clan.”

Curtis and his nurses were still part of the invalid corps on the first of September. The day was particularly muggy, and the three Bucktails barely stirred from their campsite all afternoon. While they loafed in the shade swapping stories, they saw a lanky officer gallop past them on a lathered gray gelding.

“Look, it’s Lieutenant Colonel Niles!” hollered Jewett, springing to his feet. “He must have returned to resume command of our regiment.”

“You’d know ’im alright,” said Bucky, “after helpin’ ’im limp ta the field hospital from Plum Run.”

“Looks like our blackberry pickin’ days is over, boys,” groaned Curtis. “We must be goin’ after the Rebs ag’in if the colonel’s back. I jess hope my ribs kin take all that gol-dang marchin’.”

A rousing chorus of cheers followed Niles’ progress through camp. After he dismounted stiff-legged outside regimental headquarters, the Bucktails mobbed forward to welcome him back.

“Glad ta see ya, sir!” yelled an elated corporal.

“Amen!” shouted a second Bucktail.

“How’s that wound healin’?” asked a young lieutenant.

“It’s coming,” replied the colonel weakly. “They took real good care of me at Annapolis. I’m glad to be here to lead you men to victory.”

The Bucktails continued to whoop and celebrate as Niles turned to hobble into headquarters. His shoulders and long arms looked even thinner than usual to Private Jewett, causing Jimmy to remark, “Boy, the colonel still seems in pretty bad shape. That was a nasty wound he had in his thigh. How’s he going to do any fighting if he can’t even walk?”

“All our officers is braver than they is smart,” sighed Culp. “Jess think how McNeil an’ Taylor got theirselves killed.”

As Curtis began to offer his own sour take on Bucky’s observation, a dispatch rider galloped into camp with the mail. He leaped from the saddle, handed a bulging cloth sack to an orderly, and then sped away.

Bucky’s was the first name called. He didn’t even have to look at the envelope to know who it was from. He suddenly needed to be alone. Mumbling to himself, he wandered off to the Rappahannock plagued by anxious thoughts. The sergeant plopped down on the river bank to skim the latest of a long line of epistles that now came regularly from his Sarah:

Dearest Bucky,

Can’t you please come back to Sharpsburg? I so worry about you and my morning heaves is getting worse. I need you here, husband. I worry that I’ll turn into a fat sow before you come back. I so want you to see me again before I start to show and become too clumsy to put up with. Please, dear Bucky, come home where you belong.

Love

Sarah

Bucky stared off across the river to watch a blue heron spear fish with its agile beak. What am I gonna do? he wondered. I can’t ask fer a leave so soon after sneakin’ off ta marry Sarah. They’d never let me go even if there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on here. Yet, I miss her so much. If I could jess hold her in my arms, she’d give up them fears that I’d ever quit lovin’ her. Yes, hold her in my arms. In my arms. . .

Bucky was so wrapped up in his dilemma that he did not hear Zeke Powers come up behind him until the lean soldier said softly, “You look mighty worried, pard. Everything alright?”

“It’s my wife, Zeke,” blurted Culp. “I-I-I don’t know what to do. . .”

“Do about what?”

“’Bout her troublin’ letters. I can’t help her here. I-I-I can’t do nothin’!”

Bucky handed Zeke the letter and stared off again to watch the heron spear another fish. After Zeke had poured over the page, he said, “I’m an old husband, so I kin sympathize. I went through the same thing when my wife had our first little gal. The first child is real important like ta a wife. She ain’t never been through none o’ the misery o’ havin’ a baby, so she’s scared an’ worried all the time. The mornin’ pukes is tryin’ fer her, an’ she’s fearful o’ losin’ the charms she used ta hook her man in the first place. Ya gotta be patient, Bucky. An’ write her as often as she does you. Otherwise, she’ll figger that ya ain’t happy with her no more. It’s too bad that ya can’t be home ta help her through all this, but ya gotta play the hand you was dealt. Now, git back ta camp an’ write her be-fore she does go out o’ her mind!”

After clapping Bucky on the back, Powers helped the lad to his feet and gave him a push down the path toward their bivouac. “Git goin’,” he ordered.

“Hey, watch it!” yelped Culp. “What’s the idea?”

“The idea is fer you ta start actin’ like a husband an’ a man. Facin’ them responsibilities makes chargin’ a trench full o’ Rebs real easy like.”

Bucky’s long face cracked into a sudden grin as Zeke’s words finally registered. “Thanks,” he mumbled almost to himself. “I guess I got a letter ta write.”

Culp returned to his tent and pulled out several pieces of paper he had stashed in his pack. Most of the paper laid crumbled in a heap before he had written what was buried in his heart:

Dearest Sarah,

I ain’t much with words. I’m sorry I ain’t wrote you as much as I should. The baby come as a big surprise. I’m glad we’s having him. I’m even gladder I done met you. After pa died I was alone. Except for Jimmy. Now you are my family. I will love you for the rest of my born days. No matter how big you get. Or how many babies come along. You was my first love. And only love. My thoughts is with you. Always.

Your husband

Bucky

With shaking hands, Sergeant Culp folded his letter, sealed it in an envelope, and wandered off to headquarters to mail it. As he handed his letter to the orderly there, Major Hartshorne barged into the wall tent grinning widely. “Our marching orders have come!” he bellowed. “I hope Colonel Niles is up to it.”

“An’ Sergeant Curtis, too,” said Bucky.

“How’s the sergeant doing?” asked Hartshorne without his usual antagonism.

“He moves a little stiff like, sir, but the rest ya give ’im really helped. Thank you.”

“I never realized how tight a family the Bucktails have become until I watched Private Powers light into that professional brawler who mauled Curtis. The way he fought was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Talk about esprit de corps!”

“Fer such a small fella ta tangle with that big ape was amazin’ in itself, sir.”

“You have to remember, Sergeant Culp, that Powers was upholding the honor of our regiment. You better go tell your squad to get ready. We march at dawn.”

And march the Bucktails did in pursuit of General Lee, who again started north in a rapid flanking movement. Often, the riflemen covered twenty miles a day, first heading toward Centreville. Although the Union Army had more than one skirmish with the feigning Rebels, the Bucktails always missed out on the action. Lee’s progress was easy to trace, for everywhere he left in his wake charred train depots and uprooted railroad tracks.

Hosea was still having problems with his ribs and wouldn’t have been able to keep pace if his squad hadn’t taken turns lugging his equipment. His soreness didn’t help his bad temper, and day after day he groused about the long hikes and the illusiveness of the Rebs. “This here’s jess a gol-dang goose chase,” he howled after a particularly difficult march. “We ain’t never gonna pluck an’ roast that Bobbie Lee when he won’t stop long e-nough fer us ta ketch ’im.”

“You best pray he don’t stop ’til you’s able ta de-fend yerself proper,” said Zeke. “A gray goose is mighty strong an’ bites jess as hard as any dog.”

“I might not be able ta rassle yet,” grunted Hosea, “but I don’t shoot with my ribs!”

The Bucktails continued to follow the Rebs’ path of destruction to Fairfax County. They stomped dejectedly through a tiny crossroads village consisting of four whitewashed houses and an abandoned store when Zeke muttered, “This here’s the place I got captured. Our supply wagons was drawed up over yonder ta use that railroad grade fer shelter. It done us no good when Mosby attacked in the middle o’ the night. I hope I’s around ta watch that rascal hang!”

“Mosby done the same thing ta us,” remembered Bucky. “Usin’ a midnight de-luge ta cover his movement, he slipped by our pickets at Fairfax Station an’ snatched General Stoughton right out o’ his own bed. Boy, did we git the devil from the brass when the Gray Ghost got by us un-detected.”

“As if it was our fault that we couldn’t see a hant,” grumbled Boone.

That night Bucky’s squad was forced to bivouac at Bull Run where the Union had suffered its first and most humiliating defeat of the war. A spooky fog settled over the countryside, and the soldiers huddled restlessly around a low campfire to keep the dampness from their bones. Even Curtis glanced warily into the darkness until Jimmy said, “It’s pretty creepy here, isn’t it, boys?”

“Yes, it ain’t easy sleepin’ among the bones o’ yer comrades,” whispered Zeke, making the sign of the cross.

The next morning the Bucktails rose stiffly from the damp ground. Grumpy from their restless night, they received orders to march back the way they had come the day before. On their way south, they discovered Meade’s crews busy rebuilding the railroads that Lee had just destroyed.

“That stinkin’ campaign sure a-ccomplished a lot,” scoffed Hosea.

“The fellas manufacturin’ rails an’ cross-ties sure thinks so,” chortled Boone. “They jess got a whole lot richer.”

The Pennsylvania Rifles returned to the Rappahannock as the chilly rains of November began to turn the roads of Virginia to red muck. While part of Meade’s army was chasing the last of the Rebels back across the river at Kelly’s Ford, Bucky’s squad took up residence in a shingle-roofed log hut built by the fleeing Confederates.

The Bucktails threw a big party to celebrate their new winter quarters. Bucky and Boone went hunting in the neighboring woods and returned with two fat wild turkeys to supplement their usual army fare. They set up candles in every window and sang patriotic songs until their throats hurt and the turkeys were roasted golden brown. They just sat down to dinner when a knock came on the door.

Jimmy rose to let in a group of glad-handing officers visiting from Union headquarters. A jovial captain was the first to speak after being admitted to the hut. “Bucktails,” he proclaimed, “I’m here to convince you to reenlist in the Grand Army of the Potomac. Finely trained soldiers such as you are irreplaceable! If we’re to reach a speedy conclusion to this war, we must fill our ranks with men who will fight effectively. We are willing to offer any Bucktail who reenlists a thirty-day furlough and a bounty of two hundred greenbacks.”

To emphasize his offer, the captain produced a wad of money that would have choked a cavalry mount. The riflemen gasped at the sight of the greenbacks, and Zeke said, “I jess might take ya up on that offer. My little gals runs through clothes like hungry cannon eats powder an’ shot. I’ll sign them papers if ya got ’em. With winter here, I reckon a month at home would do me a heap o’ good, too.”

“Here you go, Private. Just make your mark, and I’ll give you your bounty here and now. Any of you other boys want to sign?”

“It’d take more greenbacks than that ta give me vet’ran fever,” grunted Curtis.

“I had the fever fer a second,” snickered Boone. “Then, I took one bite o’ hardtack an’ cured it.”

“No thank you,” declined Jimmy. “I plan on going to law school after my time is up. How about you, Bucky?”

“I ain’t interested neither. My wife’s gonna have a little tad jess ’bout the time I musters out. She’ll need me at home ta help her.”

“We’ll be around again,” promised the captain with an oily smile, “in case any of you change your mind. Who knows how many more greenbacks I’ll have next time. I’ll let you get back to your supper.”

The officers hadn’t been gone more than five minutes when another knock disturbed the soldiers from their feast. Thinking the recruiters had returned, Hosea jumped up angrily and yanked open the door to find Hartshorne’s orderly on their doorstep.

“What do ya want?” snarled Curtis.

“You and your squad should be ready to march at first light. Another offensive is in the works.”

“This late in the gol-dang year?”

“That’s not for you to question, Sergeant. Just be ready!”

“I’ll be ready, alright. Ta stomp through the cold slop ’til my legs break off at the knees. Ain’t ya glad ya re-enlisted now, Powers?”

“I did it fer my gals, Sergeant. That’s somethin’ you’d never understand.”