Bring the Boys Home (2 page)

“Yes! That’s the business at hand.” Eileen looked at him carefully and then said, “I hope you don’t mind, Nelson.”

“Mind? Why would I mind? I think it’s wonderful!”

She obviously had been concerned about how he would take the news. Life during wartime was hard enough without any complications. She seemed to desperately need his assurance. “I’m so glad,” she whispered. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”

“Of course I like it, and don’t you worry a bit. We’ll make out fine.”

Eileen whispered, “I hope it’ll be a boy. That would be good, wouldn’t it?”

“That would be very good!”

The dead of winter had not stopped the Yankee determination to take Richmond. Gen. Ulysses S.
Grant kept Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia off balance constantly. Lincoln had been reelected, General Sherman had captured Atlanta, and Savannah had surrendered. Now Sherman was on his way north to join Grant in a full-scale attempt to seize Richmond, which would end the war.

Even the promise of spring’s coming could bring no hope to Lee’s men. They were freezing and starving daily. Death, disease, and desertion slowly destroyed the once proud Army of Northern Virginia. In one five-week period, more than three thousand men simply walked off to go home and did not return.

General Lee knew that the biggest problem that winter was food. He said, “Unless the men and animals can be fed, the army cannot be held together and our present lines must be abandoned.”

Colonel Majors was one of the officers called to a special staff meeting one day, and he saw that General Lee looked tired and worn.
He’s become an old man!
Nelson thought with some astonishment.
This war is killing him!

General Lee was indeed worn out and was suffering from the heart condition that would eventually kill him. However, there was always a dignity in the man, and as he explained to his officers how grim the situation was, that inherent strength that had kept the Army of Northern Virginia intact was still there.

“I must inform you gentlemen that our plight is severe,” he said quietly. “As you must know, the Federals are increasing their strength daily while we are growing weaker with each hour.”

“We can hold out, General,” one of the officers spoke up at once.

“I pray so, but we must face reality.” He went on to speak about the lines that had been cut and about the lack of food and ammunition.

When he dismissed the men, Nelson slowly walked back to his own sector, where he found Tom waiting.

“What did the general say, Colonel?” Tom was still learning to adapt to the use of an artificial limb. After losing a leg at Gettysburg, he had been mustered back into the service as a courier. It was intended that he would serve on horseback, but now he was in the trenches with the rest of the men.

His father frowned. “I’ve never seen General Lee like this. He’s always been such a tower of strength, but now it seems that he has lost hope.”

“If
he’s
lost hope,” Tom said, “I don’t think the rest of us can do much better.”

The colonel felt the biting air cut through his uniform. “I don’t think so either. It’s just a matter of time, Tom. We’ve got to realize that.”

Tom rubbed his hands to warm them. His thoughts seemed far away.

Finally his father said, “I could guess what you’re thinking.”

Tom looked up and smiled guiltily. “Are you a mind reader now, Colonel?”

“I know my boys pretty well. You’re thinking about Sarah.”

Tom bowed his head. He and Sarah were practically engaged, but she was back in Kentucky and he was here in the frozen trenches—and he had been maimed by the war. “I still don’t reckon Sarah would want a one-legged man, Pa.”

“Don’t be foolish, son!” Nelson said. “A leg is not a man!” But he knew Tom had not fully gotten over
the loss of the leg. His older son had always been strong and athletic and now felt he was not the man he’d been.

Tom looked out over the fortifications, thinking. Slowly he turned back to his father, saluted, and then limped toward the trenches to take his place in the line.

The colonel watched him go and thought,
That boy’s hurting—and he’s wrong about Sarah. But I guess every man has to learn to get along with his own handicaps
.

He walked away, wondering how to make the food go a little farther, how to make the lines stretch a little longer, and how to keep the Yankees at bay for just one more day.

A
hard freeze had transformed the clothes that Leah hung out earlier in the day. They had been soft and fluffy from the washing she’d given them in the iron pot, but now they were frozen stiff. As she approached the line, she muttered, “I should’ve known that this would happen!” But then she shrugged and began to take them down.

At sixteen, Leah had probably reached her full growth. She still saw herself as tall and gawky, but lately young womanhood had sculptured her into a more graceful figure. Her green eyes caught the light of the noon sun, and her blonde hair escaped from the woolen stocking cap that she had pulled down tightly.

Unpinning a suit of men’s long underwear, she held it up for a moment. She grinned, bent the frozen garment in the middle, and began waltzing around with it, humming a song.

Then abruptly she halted. “This is
not
going to get the work done!” She gathered up as many of the stiffened clothes as she could and went back into the small frame house, set only twenty feet from the Richmond street.

A black-and-white cat met her as she entered the back door. He stared at the frozen long underwear. Then suddenly he made a jump. He dug his claws into the garment and bit at it fiercely.

“Cap’n Brown, you stop that!”

Leah picked up the cat and nuzzled him. “You’ll have to behave yourself. These are just underwear— they’re not going to hurt you.” Holding the cat under one arm, she crossed the kitchen to the hallway and made her way to a large bedroom, where she leaned the long johns against the wall. “Now you stay there,” she admonished them, “and I’ll go get the rest of you!”

After several trips, Leah had the room filled with frozen clothes. When she had them lined them up, waiting for them to thaw, she began preaching at them. “Now,” she said, “listen to what I have to say. You’re all good Confederate underwear, so I want you to behave yourselves like good Confederates. Do you hear me?”

“What in the world are you doing?”

Leah whirled, feeling red coming to her cheeks. “Oh, nothing, Eileen!”

“Did I hear you talking to those clothes?” Eileen asked curiously. But she smiled, and a dimple touched her cheek.

“I was just having a little fun.” Leah picked up a petticoat. “See—they’re all stiff as boards.”

“They’re clean anyway. I’m glad for that.” Eileen touched a shirtwaist that was beginning to lose its stiffness. “It’s hard enough to wash in the summertime, but in the winter it’s terrible. I just hope the soap holds out.”

“They didn’t have any anywhere in town that I could find,” Leah said. “All the stores are out of just about everything.” She gave the older woman a close look and said, “Eileen, what’ll we do when there’s no more soap?”

“I don’t know, Leah. I just don’t know.”

There was a tinge of hopelessness in Eileen’s voice, and in that she was like most Southerners. The Army of Northern Virginia was now trapped in Richmond, encircled by 100,000 Union soldiers. Every day the ring grew tighter, and everyone knew that things could not go on much longer. The South would have to surrender.

Eileen bit her lip suddenly and dropped the shirtwaist. She went to a chair and sat down.

Leah looked at her with surprise and crossed to stand beside the chair. “What’s wrong, Eileen? Don’t you feel well?”

“Not really.”

“What is it? I hope it’s not something serious.”

Eileen looked up with a smile. “I’m afraid it is.”

“Not
smallpox?”
Leah gasped.

“No, not smallpox.” Eileen was pale, but she managed another smile. “I’m going to have a baby, Leah.”

“A baby? You don’t mean it!”

“Yes, I do.” She took Leah’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s an awful time for having a baby, isn’t it? Here in the middle of a war with our side about to be demolished.”

Seeing the trouble in Eileen’s eyes, Leah leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then gave her a quick hug. “I think it’s a wonderful time to have a baby, and it’ll be a beautiful baby too. It’ll either be beautiful like you are or be handsome like his father. Either way, it will be wonderful.”

That seemed to cheer Eileen. She got up, saying, “I’m all right now. I just seem to get a little dizzy from time to time. Come along, and we’ll see what we’ve got for supper tonight.”

The two women went into the kitchen, and as they began to put together a meal, Leah said quietly, “I get lonesome for home sometimes.”

Home for Leah was Kentucky. It had been home for her family, the Carters, and for the Majors family too, until the war had separated them. Leah had brought Colonel Majors’s little girl to Richmond, but now that he was married again she felt in the way.

She turned suddenly to Eileen. “I think I’d better be going home soon.”

“Perhaps you should. Not that we’re not glad to have you, but with the war going the way it is, it’s not safe for you here.”

There was a pause, and Leah had another thought. “But if you’re going to have a baby, you’ll probably need help.”

“You can’t stay around here for that long!” Eileen exclaimed.

“I can stay as long as you need help,” Leah said. “Let’s talk about it later.”

Jeff mounted the skinny army horse and sat looking down at the animal’s bony shoulders. “I think I’m about as able to carry you as you are me,” he muttered.

But a horse was a horse. In Petersburg there were few animals—there was no feed for them. He had obtained this mount only because his father had put in a word with the quartermaster.

“Go on into Richmond and see if you can find anything for us to eat, Corporal,” the colonel had said.

Jeff dug his heels into the bony sides of the horse, who obliged by moving forward at a slow
walk. Jeff did not urge him. He knew that the animal was old and had not been well cared for.
I feel sorry for all the horses
, he thought.

Still, it was always good to get out of the trenches, for the stench of death was there and the constant danger of being killed. All morning Jeff rode quietly along the road until he reached the capital.

Richmond was depressing too, he thought. Most of the stores were closed, and what few factories were still running were manned by gaunt workers with gray faces. He found no food at all for sale—at least none that could be bought with Confederate money.

“If I had greenbacks, I could buy some, I bet,” he said. Strangely, Union cash was more welcome in Richmond than its own currency. Confederate money was worth practically nothing. Jeff had his pockets stuffed full, but he knew that it would take a miracle to find anyone willing to trade good food for worthless paper.

Then he had an idea. He took a road leading out of town and came, after an hour’s ride, to a large mansion sitting on the left side of the roadway. Kicking the horse with his heels, he muttered, “Come on, boy. It won’t hurt to try here.”

When he slipped off the horse, he was greeted by a grinning black man, who said, “Hello, Mr. Jeff! I haven’t seen you lately.”

“No, Zeno. Been in the trenches at Petersburg.”

“Let me take that hoss. You go on in. Miss Lucy, she’s here on the place.”

“Thank you, Zeno.”

Jeff ran up the steps, knocked on the door, and was met by one of the house servants, a small black
girl that he knew. “Hello, Verbena. Is Miss Lucy here?”

“She sure is, Mr. Jeff. You come on in, and I’ll fetch her for you.”

Jeff waited in the foyer.

Lucy came, almost at once, and held out her hands. “Jeff!” She smiled up at him. “I’m so glad to see you!”

He took her hands and looked down at the small girl. Lucy Driscoll was one of the prettiest girls Jeff had ever seen. “Good to see you too, Lucy,” he said. “How have you been?”

“Just fine. Come on back! Cecil is here.” Her eyes twinkled for a moment, and she said roguishly, “But I forgot, officers and regulars don’t mix, do they?”

“Not very well.”

At that moment a young man wearing the uniform of a Confederate second lieutenant emerged from the drawing room. “Jeff! Good to see you!” Cecil Taylor, at seventeen, was thin as a rail. He had chestnut hair and bright blue eyes and a crooked grin. “I don’t guess we have to worry about ‘sirs’ around here,” he added.

The three young people went into the drawing room, where Lucy asked one of the servants to bring in cake and tea. She served it herself, asking Jeff, “How are things at Petersburg?”

“Not very good,” Jeff said glumly. He glanced at Cecil. “I guess you know more about the whole picture than I do.”

Shaking his head, Cecil said, “It’s not the same thing. I’ve asked a hundred times to be put on active duty in the lines, but they won’t let me go.”

Jeff swallowed a piece of cake. “I wish they’d let us change jobs. You’d be welcome to mine.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that, Jeff.”

Actually Jeff knew he didn’t. He wanted to be with his unit, what was left of the Stonewall Brigade, and he well knew that he did not want to leave his father or his brother. Still, he also knew that Cecil felt bad about not getting in on the fighting, so he said, “Don’t worry. Pretty soon you’ll be at it. I think everybody will.”

“I feel like a slacker,” Cecil said.

“You’re not that!” Lucy put a hand on Cecil’s arm. “You have to do what your officers tell you. If they told you to fight, you’d fight in a minute.”

Jeff noted with interest her sparkling eyes and that her fondness for Cecil showed in her face. He knew that Cecil had been in love with Leah, but after finding she didn’t care for him, it would be natural enough for him to turn to Lucy Driscoll. The two had grown up together, and both were children of wealthy planters.

After a while Jeff admitted, “Actually, I’ve come begging. I don’t suppose you’ve got anything to eat I could take back to some of my friends at the front.”