All they had to do was hold the crossroads until then, Wake thought, and that possibility was dependent on the accuracy of his assessment of Colonel Daniel Griner Holland.
11
Perceptions
The men returned to their positions on the decreased perimeter in the village. As the darkness closed over Claresville, the sailors hurriedly ate what scraps of food they had been able to find as they scanned the enemy locations, alert for another attack. The seamen were allowed, a few at a time, to go back to the water butts at Hilderbrandt’s position and quench their thirst with two cups of water, not nearly enough to replace that lost during the day. All were exhausted and nervous.
A strange quiet descended, the men speaking in whispers and moving noiselessly around the dwellings. The loudest sounds were the slaps for the mosquitoes that rose in swarms at dusk, plaguing everyone. The sand fleas and biting gnats, called by the locals no-see-ums, were even worse than the mosquitoes. Wake could not remember ever experiencing worse insects. They crawled inside clothing and hair, biting and buzzing until men shouted in despair. Wake wondered how the locals on this coast coped with them. He knew they lived with smoke pots constantly smoldering in their homes at night and covered themselves with animal grease to repel the bugs, but he couldn’t allow fires and had no grease. He didn’t think they would help much anyway.
All lanterns on both sides were extinguished, making the slight moonlight through the thin overcast clouds the only illumination. From the hut where the wounded waited came moans but no more screams. The most badly wounded had died by then, others were trying to stifle their fear and stay still in order not to open wounds that had congealed. The dead that could be reached were removed from where they fell to the western side of the crossroads and covered in blankets found in the homes. The line of shapes on the ground made Wake stop and bow his head, asking God for the strength to endure whatever was coming.
Wake circled the defensive lines again and found them as well as could be expected. His sailors were unaccustomed to this type of duty and totally untrained, but they were holding up well. Hilderbrandt advised him that Hammersley had left the crossroads and gone west along the road toward the army camp at the beach on the river, muttering something as he walked. Wake nodded his reply and walked on to the next position. By the time he returned to his own position on the northern approaches to the crossroads, he was sweating profusely, whether from fear or the numbing humidity and heat he could not tell. He just knew he felt miserable and exhausted and that his men must be enduring the same. Getting some rest was essential he knew, and after searching unsuccessfully for a real bed he lay down on the plank floor of a settler’s home.
The moon’s glow could barely make it through the clouds. It had traveled across the night sky until it was just above the western horizon, but still enough of it came through the open window to illuminate the interior of the crude home where Wake slept on the floor when old McDougall came tromping into the room. Wake blinked his eyes open as McDougall shook him and whispered close to his ear.
“Movement in front of Meade’s men, sir. Sounds like men forming up.”
“Very well, wake up everyone. But quietly.”
McDougall went out to warn the others as Wake made his way to where Meade was standing by a rickety woodshed. The bosun pointed to a clearing just beyond the buildings.
“Over there, sir, at the tree line. Heard men moving around. Sounds like a bunch of ’em.”
“Did they stop after you first heard them, or is it continuing?”
“Continuing, sir. There. Hear it?”
A faint voice sounded in the still air. Two other voices responded. Then the squeal of a wheel that needed lubricating could be heard. It was followed by the jangle of metal on metal. Wake put his hand on the bosun’s shoulder.
“Meade, I think that’s a gun they are moving into position. Get your men behind the most solid things you can find. They’ll probably start with cannon fire, most likely grape or canister, then run in with their infantry. Wait until you actually see their men—then open fire. Don’t waste your shots. Understood?”
Meade gripped Wake’s arm and nodded. The man’s strength was reassuring. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
Another voice came out of the dark line of trees on the far side of the clearing. It was an admonishing voice, low and stern. Actual words could not be made out, but the serious tone was obvious. Somewhere among the Confederates an officer was giving orders, thought Wake, and probably the final orders for the attack.
He glanced over his left shoulder at the weakening glow of the moon as it descended in the west. The clouds filtered it even more as it got lower in the sky. Wake thought about the timing. It was still an hour before dawn. With the moon down low now, the attackers would be hard to see. He knew it would start soon, but how would it end?
McDougall’s arrival was heralded with a groan as he sat down, followed by a sigh.
“Maybe that old dog Rork
