Union troops filed up Taneytown Road towardCemetery Ridge, heads drooping with fatigue. They marched throughthe silver light of another hot, muggy morning. The rising sunseparated from the horizon, glaring blood red. Red sun in morning,soldier take warning. The thought popped into Tillie’s head withsuch force, she peeked around, wondering if someone spokealoud.
Mr. Weikert joined them on the front porch.He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“Lord help us.” Mrs. Weikert shook her head.“So many soldiers.” Her arms tightened around her husband’s waist.After several minutes, she broke away from her husband’s embrace.“Well, I have work to do.” She didn’t take her eyes off theblue-clad men flowing past the house in a never-ending stream.“Standing here staring won’t get it done.” She headed inside.
Mr. Weikert tapped Dan on the shoulder. “Ma’sright. We need to get to work repairing the pigsty.”
“But, Pa.” Dan raised his hands and shouldersin a helpless gesture. “How can we? They took all the fencing fortheir cook fires last night and now the pigs are gone.”Nevertheless, he tromped after his father off the porch.
Whatever Mr. Weikert answered, his words werelost to distance and the steady tramp of soldiers in front of thehouse.
Tillie contemplated the burned-out wheatfield across the road. She didn’t want to be here, an unwillingwitness to Mr. Weikert’s troubles. Strangers should not view such aprivate matter.
She found chores to do in the kitchen andwaited for an opportunity to ask about going home. She couldn’tblurt out, “Mrs. Schriver, I want to go home,” but she came closeseveral times. As the morning wore on and she failed to broach thesubject, she resigned herself to stay longer.
When she completed her small tasks, Tilliefound work that didn’t involve associating with Beckie. She didn’tunderstand Beckie’s resentment and didn’t care either. Whatever thecause, avoiding her seemed wise.
“Sadie, for goodness sake, stay out of myway. I’m busy.” Mrs. Schriver scolded as the youngster tried toclimb under the table where her mother worked. Sadie grabbed at hermother’s skirts. Mrs. Schriver yanked them out of the child’sgrasp. “Sadie, stop it, now.”
That gave Tillie an idea. “Sadie and Mollie,do you want to come with me and give the boys water?”
“Yeah.” The girls climbed from underneath thetable and ran to Tillie, jumping up and down in front of her.
“Wonderful idea, Tillie. Thank you.” Mrs.Schriver’s whole face softened.
“You’re welcome.” Tillie grabbed the cup fromthe shelf and took the girls to the road. She ran and filled thebucket and lugged it back. When she returned, Mrs. Weikert offeredeach of the girls a cup. “There are a lot of men, and one cup won’tdo.” She headed back to the house.
Sadie and Mollie dipped their cups in thebucket and held them up. Tillie did the same.
Today, the men were all business. They noddedtheir thanks and drank, too tired to speak.
“You look exhausted.” Tillie offered themrefilled cups. “Where did you come from?”
“Baltimore.” He drank again. “We’ve beenmarching since midnight.”
“Baltimore! But that’s so far away.” Shedipped the cup back into the bucket and offered him more water, buthe declined and stepped back into line.
The endless stream of men in blue trudged bywithout even glancing around. Regiment after regiment passed as thegirls dipped their cups and held them out, dipped their cups andheld them out. Mollie threw her cup into the bucket. “This isn’tmuch fun. I’m going back inside.”
Sadie took her cue from her older sister. Shethrew her cup down as well. “Me too.” The girls clasped hands andwalked back to the house. Tillie sighed and let them go. She pickedup the bucket and strode to the spring.
* * * *
The final regiment passed. The cup dangledfrom Tillie’s fingers as she gazed toward town. How did her familyfare? Did the Rebs harm them somehow? Would they leave herorphaned? She wanted to gather her skirts about her knees and runfor home. She’d never get through the soldiers. Please, God. Keepthem safe. Please. The Weikerts were fine people, but she couldn’tshake the feeling they didn’t want her here, which left heruncomfortable and fearful of doing or saying the wrong thing.
A shrill whistle and good-natured shoutingbrought her back to reality. She turned as another stream ofsoldiers came toward her.
“Hey, missy, how about some water?”
“That’s right.” Another cajoled, taking offhis kepi and using the crook of his arm to wipe the sweat from hisbrow. “What’s a man got to do to get a drink around here?”
“Oh.” Tillie dipped her cup. “Please forgiveme.”
The soldier closest to her drank. Othersshouted at him not to hog all the water and to pass the cup rightquick.
Tillie picked up the other two cups, filledthem, and handed them over.
The first soldier drank and passed the cup tothe man next to him. He winked at Tillie. “Sweetest tasting water Iever drank.”
Heat crept up her neck and into her face.Handsome young men didn’t tease her; they flirted with Maggie. Shedidn’t know how to respond, so kept quiet, her eyes fixed on thepail. He dropped the cup in the water and left.
When the bucket emptied, she excused herselfand sprinted back to the spring to get more water, but the springran dry. She ran to the well and hauled fresh water. After fillingher bucket, she returned, but the first group of men were gone.
A train of twenty wagons, coming from town,turned into the barnyard and stopped. The drivers jumped down andhustled to the back to untie their loads. Orderlies emerged fromthe barn to unload empty pine boxes. They piled them near the fenceand against the side of the barn. As one wagon emptied its load,another arrived and unloaded its supply of coffins.
“Well, boys, they’re here,” a ginger-hairedsolder called to his companions. “No telling how long before I getput in one of those.”
“I’d consider myself lucky if I even getone,” another joked to the laughter his companions. Hisdirt-streaked face made the whites of his eyes stand out. He leanedover and spat brown spittle onto the road.
“You’re just a private. You don’t deserveone.” The soldier behind him, also filthy,
