Sam disappeared into the crowd.
Tillie grabbed Maggie’s hand and pressedforward to find a thin place in the crowd—a difficult task with somany people packed tight on the curb. Some milled around, hopingfor a gap in the pack. Tillie and Maggie moved up WashingtonStreet, also looking for a hole in the wall of people. The dustrising off the road, and the odor of sweaty bodies, along with thetang of horses made Tillie sneeze. They finally came to a stop atthe corner of Washington and West Middle Streets, one of thebusiest intersections. Across the road, shops lined up, side byside, and shop owners, as well as their patrons, stood in thedoorways or peered out the large front windows. On the floorsabove, their families hung out windows, waving and calling to thetroops passing by. Tillie and Maggie stopped at the curb on theeast side of the road to cheer and wave. Homeowners leaned outupstairs windows behind them.
“We forgot the flowers!” Tillie whirled toMaggie with a disappointed frown.
“Oh, we left them on the sitting room table.”Maggie shrugged, turned to Tillie, brows raised. “Do you want to gohome and get them, or shall I?”
Tillie debated for a moment, and then shookher head. “I’m not going back for them now. I don’t want to missseeing the boys.”
Someone in the crowd started singing. Tillieand Maggie joined in. The soldiers lifted their caps andacknowledged the crowd with grateful smiles. Sweat plastered theirhair to their skulls and ran down their faces. Tillie sympathizedwith them for having to march in the intense heat dressed indark-blue woolen uniforms.
First, the cavalry came through. The crowdswaved and cheered. Some people whistled, sharp sounds that piercedthrough the rest of the noise. Then, for more than an hour, camelong lines of wagons carrying supplies. The singing stopped and thecheering slowed, replaced by the whistles and shouts of theteamsters urging their animals onward.
A wagon passed. Men lay in hammocks strungacross the interior. They stared out the back of the wagon,impassive and unmoving. Another passed and then another.
“Maggie, look.” She pointed to the wagoncarrying the sick and wounded. “I always assumed they went to ahospital in Washington or Philadelphia. Why would they comehere?”
At least thirty more ambulance wagons passedby. Some already carried men, most did not. Tillie finally stoppedcounting. Then came the supply wagons. These carried the implementsof battle aftermath, such as stretchers and coffins.
Tillie’s heart lurched. She spun toMaggie—had she seen it too? Her sad frown and grieved eyesindicated she had.
“I’m ready to go home.” Tillie grabbed hersister’s arm to gain her attention.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Maggiefrowned as the wagons rumbled by. “I don’t want to see thisreminder. It’s too painful.”
They’d turned to leave when the thump-thumpof marching men caught Tillie’s attention. “Oh, wait.” She stoppedand waved. “Here comes the infantry.”
Officers on horseback led each corps. The mencame on, an unending line of soldiers in better physical conditionthan the Confederate infantry. Tillie recalled the desperate stateof the Southern soldiers with their bare feet, shirts and jacketstorn or patched in several places. Most of those men didn’t havehats. After arriving in town, they procured headwear before mostother things, food notwithstanding.
These Union soldiers, on the other hand, hadshoes on their feet, hats on their heads, and packs on their backsbulging with supplies. Each man marched equipped with a rifle. Acartridge box hung at their side and rattled as they walked,creating a rhythmic clatter. The soldiers lifted their hats, waved,and smiled.
The townsfolk cheered and sang to the whump,whump of thousands of feet pounding on the road, punctuated bymartial music somewhere at the back of the line. In the distance,the cobbles shimmered in wavy ribbons above the road.
At a short boom, Tillie glanced at the skyfor the telltale sign of an oncoming storm, but the sun shone downout of a clear, deep blue summer sky. She turned in the directionof Pennsylvania College, near Seminary Ridge where another boomanswered the first.
Townsfolk stopped cheering, and in the almostsudden silence, came a third distinct boom of cannon. The groundvibrated. It sounded nothing like thunder.
The soldiers fell silent. Their smilesdisappeared. Some faces registered fear, others stoic resignation.Officers shouted at the men to pick up their pace. In the distance,the cannons grew louder. Gray smoke rose from behind the ridge asthough trying to hide the activity there. People watching fromtheir upstairs windows ducked inside and slammed the sashes down,as if a slim pane of glass might protect them.
Men pulled on their beards or tapped a fingeragainst their noses. Women screamed and dispersed. People shoutedat children and each other. The thud and clatter of thousands ofmarching men created a confused jumble.
“Maggie!” Tillie yelled above the din. Maggiedidn’t respond, and Tillie’s heart pounded as she spun in everydirection. “Maggie, where are you?” she called out as she tried tomove against the throng.
People rushed past and buffeted her from sideto side. They pushed her in the opposite direction she wanted togo.
More cannons fired in the distance almostdeafening her. She shouted for Maggie again, but the din swallowedher voice.
“Maggie!” Tillie called above the screams andshouts of the men and women on the street as the crashes of thecannons died away. Her voice cracked, and a sudden image envelopedher. Something drastic happened to Maggie while she wasn’t looking.What would Father and Mother say? She had stopped to watch theinfantry enter town, and when she wasn’t looking, a Reb abductedMaggie. He had hidden among the houses, attempting to escape theYanks. Tears filled her eyes. Stop it! You’re being ridiculous. Whywould a Reb sneak all the way around the union army just to kidnapMaggie, of all people?
A man bumped Tillie from the side. She felloff the curb and stumbled into the side of a horse.
The rider steadied the animal and kept himfrom shying. At the same time, he grabbed her shoulder. “Miss, areyou hurt?”
Tillie lifted a tear-streaked face to thestranger atop his horse. Kind blue eyes peered at her from aweather-beaten face, half masked by thick, dark whiskers. Hisgentle demeanor put her at ease. “No, I’m not hurt. Thank you.”
“Then why the tears?”
“I’m scared.”
“Then I suggest you head home
