“It’s a sorry thing.” A second soldier, hisleft arm in a sling, stared at the fire. The empty sleeve of hiscoat hung at his side, and a hole winked in the fabric, just abovethe elbow. “That here in our own country the enemy has control ofthe town. If the rest of the army don’t get here soon, we’ll losethe battle, and maybe even the war.” With his right hand, he threwa clumsy stick on the fire. Sparks flew upward. “Yes, sir.”
Tillie and Beckie stopped behind him,listening.
“The Rebs captured quite a few from my unit.They hold the town tight as a tick, they do. Be a shame if we losethis fight, but I don’t see how we can win. Bobby Lee is in chargeover there, and they hold the town like we did atFredericksburg.”
A third soldier, who didn’t appear wounded inany way, sat across from sling-arm and sighted the girls. “Goodevening, ladies.” He sat up from his reclining position, speakingwith fake joviality, as though they talked of nothing more mundanethan the weather.
Sling-arm peered over his shoulder.
“It’s true then?” Tillie approached. “Do theRebels control the town?”
“They do, miss, but not for long.” The secondsoldier placed another piece of wood on the flames. “GeneralMeade’ll be here tomorrow, and we’ll chase them away, you wait andsee.”
The other soldiers murmured, nodding inassent.
“General Meade.” The bandaged soldier shookhis head, his voice filled with disgust. Again, he played with thewrappings on his forehead. “Gotta ask yourself how long he’lllast.”
Some of the men punched him and hissed at himto be quiet.
“Don’t fret, ladies.” The third soldier putout his hands in a calming gesture. “There ain’t a soldier amongthe entire Army of the Potomac’ll let the Rebs keep the town. We’llwin this battle if it takes all week.”
Tillie and Beckie sat beside the men who maderoom for them among a chorus of hear-hears and huzzahs.
“What happened today?” Beckie moved herskirts away from the flames. She tucked her forearms into her lapand leaned forward.
“We went out to the railroad cut north andwest of town.”
“Out near the college,” the first soldiersaid.
“They know that.” The second soldier elbowedhim.
“Anywaaaay.” The speaker glowered at hiscompanions. “We went out to the railroad cut and we found the Rebs,so we started shootin’.”
“Just like that?” Tillie’s stomach churned.“Like…fish in a barrel?” She pictured hundreds of men staring up atthe enemy, hands above their heads, begging for mercy, then fallingto the ground as the men on top of the railroad cut ignored theirpleas and shot them dead. In her mind, the Rebs all fell in clean,graceful heaps.
“Well—yes, miss.” Regret shone in his eyes.He turned away.
“They fought well, and we about had ’em whenthey got up reinforcements. By then, our commanders were eitherdead or wounded and we didn’t have no leadership, so things kindafell apart afterward. Someone sent word General Reynolds was deadand General Doubleday in charge.”
“When you hear General Doubleday is incharge…” The head-bandaged soldier leaned toward her.
Tillie suppressed the urge to draw back. Sheheld her breath as his body odor reached her nose.
“You may as well pack up your little dog andpony show and go home.” The man waggled his finger, adding emphasisto his words.
“Guard your tongue.” A soldier with a woundedhand threw a small stone at him.
“Yeah, be careful.” The third man stared fromacross the flames. “You’ll find yourself in a court-martial. Orworse.”
“What’s worse than court-martial?” Tillie’sgaze circled the campfire.
No one answered her. Instead, Bandage Mancontinued his story. “We fought our way through the town, but thereare so many narrow streets and just about every yard has a highstockade type fence. Weren’t easy getting through. I needed to finda way through town where I wouldn’t get stuck in the crowd. I mademy way out of town to Cemetery Ridge where I got hit by a sniper.”His fingers fumbled with his gauze again. “Just grazed me. Luckyfor me. Some of the boys who tried to pass that way didn’tsurvive.” He stopped, his eyes growing vague.
“Very true.” The second soldier stood,adjusted his pants, and sat back down. “Many of our boys are Rebprisoners now.”
Silence fell on the group. The logs shifted.The fire crackled and sent sparks skyward. They floated up andwinked out. Above, the stars blinked on as full darkness envelopedthem.
The one who warned his companion to be quietpicked up a stick, tapping the end into his palm. “The Rebels havecontrol of the town, but not for long.”
“That’s right.” The third soldier smiled atthe girls. “We’ll drive them off sure enough.”
Tillie and Beckie thanked the men and rose.They continued on to the barn, from where emanated the mostheart-wrenching screams and cries.
On the straw-covered floor, hundreds of menlay in pools of blood. Some poor souls, in their delirium, calledfor loved ones. Some wept, unable to expend any more energy, theirstruggle for survival almost ended. Some prayed. Others lay still,perhaps having made peace with their God, and waited for death.
Two men shoved Tillie and Beckie aside asthey entered the barn. They handled a litter carrying a woundedman.
Tillie’s gorge rose in her throat as shesighted mangled muscle, bone, and skin. She turned away and bysheer strength of will, resisted putting her hands over her ears toshut out his screams. Rather than dump this man in the straw, theycarried him to the back of the barn. The men dropped the litter tothe floor and, careless of his pain, lifted him by his legs andunder his arms, and plopped him on a table constructed of sawhorsesand wooden planks. The two men picked up the litter and went backoutside, shoulders hunched.
Tillie caught her breath as a gray-haired,heavyset surgeon, his eyes on the wound, groped around on theblood-soaked planks until his fingers landed on an instrument likethe cooking utensil her mother used to pluck food out of a boilingpot
