Spake As a Dragon (30 page)

The sad shape Robert is in, health
wise, whether at ‘attention’ or ‘at ease’ if the Colonel had been
looking he would not have been able to tell the difference. The
sentry stands at the door at attention. The Colonel places the pen
in the ink well, motions to the sentry, “Wait outside,” then turns
his attention to Robert. “I have been told you have had some formal
education and are able to read and write, is this
correct?”

“
Yes sir, that is
correct,” Robert responds.

Getting up from his desk he walks
around and sits on its corner, “And, I understand you surrendered
at Gettysburg?”

“
Yes sir, I mean, no sir I
was captured all right, but only after I was wounded, I did not
voluntarily surrender, Sir.”

“
Yes, yes, I understand,
very commendable, I was at Gettysburg too. I commanded a division
of the XI Corps north of town on the first day; Jubal Early’s
division of the South’s II Corps overran us. I could have succeeded
in my advance if General Howard had re-enforced my division,”
Robert could see in his eyes the Colonel remembered every moment of
that first day at Gettysburg. “You in Early’s division?”

“
Uh, no Sir, we briefly
got into the fight that first day but didn’t get into the hard
fightin’ until the 2
^nd
day. I was in Longstreet’s Corp,
under General Hood, the 48
^th
Alabama. We did our
fighting at Little Round Top and Devil’s Den, a way south of town.
That’s where I was wounded and captured.”

“
Well, I did the best I
could with the quantity of men I had, but they blamed the defeat
north of town on me and reduced me from a Brigadier General to this
sorry colonel’s rank. You know,” the Colonel said speaking as
though he were talking to one of his officer peers, “They don’t
seem to realize once General Early forced the Army to retreat below
town to Cemetery Ridge, we gained the whole advantage of the
battle, we held the high ground!”

Robert had heard reports of the Battle
of Gettysburg many times by various participants there with him in
prison and the Colonel was correct, General Meade’s defense of
Cemetery Ridge won the battle for the North. The position made a
formidable defense against Pickett’s fatal charge on the
3
^rd
day of battle.

“
Oh, I can still hear
General Meade reading those orders
‘for dereliction of duty by
advancing his Division to an indefensible position which was
overrun by General Jubal Early’s Corps resulting in the capture,
wounding or death of his entire Division. Brigadier General Francis
C. Adams is hereby reduced from the rank of Brigadier General to
the rank of Colonel and is hereby re-assigned.’
Re-assigned
hell, they might as well have thrown me out of the Army as to send
me here. I suppose they would have thrown me out had it not been
that I am the grandson of President John Quincy Adams and the great
–grandson of John Adams. Let me tell you Sergeant having famous
relatives can be a blessing, but sometimes it is a curse. This is
one of those cursed times.”

“
I’m sorry sir, but I
don’t have any famous relatives, oh, my Grandpappy was hung by the
British – does that count?”

The Colonel walks back around his
desk, opens a drawer and takes out a half empty bottle of Old Crow,
a Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey. “I guess if it is good enough
for old General Grant,” holding the bottle up for Robert to see,
“it’ll be good enough for you and me.”

He pulls out the cork, finds two
glasses, and pours his almost to the rim and about two fingers full
in the other for Robert. Touching glasses, the Colonel says, “To
the end of the War.” Turning his glass up he downs the contents
before stopping, and turns to Robert, “Now get the hell
out!”

That was the first whiskey Robert had
tasted in such a very long time. Upon downing his portion it almost
took his breath, and he thought his throat was on fire. He wanted
to cough, but resisted the temptation until he was out of the
Colonel’s office.

Rubbing the remains of the alcohol
from his mustache and beard Robert returns to the outer waiting
room and addresses the Sergeant sitting at a small table, “Sir,
what am I supposed to do?”

“
Do? Do? Sit at that other
table and you do what I tell you to do? Get it?”

“
Yes Sergeant I got
it.”

Robert walks over to the bare table,
pulls out the chair and sits with his hands, fingers interlaced, on
the table, the Sergeant turns toward Robert. Robert drops his hands
down to his sides,
‘was I not supposed to touch the table,’
he thinks. “Bob, yeah that’s good, I’m gonna call you Bob... Bob
run over to the mess house and tell the cook that Sergeant Samuel
O. Belue”, (he pronounces his name as ‘Blue’), “wants a slice of
ham and some bread.”

Robert jumps up, “Yes sir Sergeant,”
and hurries to the door.

“
Oh, while you’re at it
tell him to fix one fer yerself, ‘cause now you is my assistant.
Drop by the quartermaster’s place and tell him Blue said to fix you
up with some better clothing. It just ain’t right to have a sorry
soul as you work for me and the Commandant and look the way you do,
and git a bath too, they got hot water out behind the officer’s
laundry. Jest tell’em Blue sent you. When you git done go up to the
post office and git the Commandant’s mail, and be quick about it,
yer hear? And, by the way, don’t call me Sir, I work fer a
livin’.”

It must be around midnight as Robert
lay in his bunk thinking if the day had been real or was that
bullet to the head causing him to imagine things. If it were real,
he knew one thing – the name ‘Blue’ was like saying God had sent
him, ‘cause it sure parted the seas and opened the
doors.

He had run errands all afternoon for
Blue and wrote a couple of letters for the Commandant, nothing
important, one to Headquarters asking for a re-assignment and
another to his wife. He wonders, who would want someone else
writing to their wife. Odd, he thinks.

The flap of the tent flies up and a
soldier with a lantern enters, “Bob? Bob? Where the heck you at?”
The soldier with the light asks.

“
You looking for Robert
Scarburg?”

“
Yeah, it that you Bob?
What the dickens are you doin’ back down here?”

“
This is where I live,
whose askin’?”

“
It’s me Bob, Blue, git
yer belongings yer supposed to live in that side room with me at
the Commandant’s office.”

‘
This can’t be,’
thought Robert,
‘this has got to be that bullet to my
head.’

The next morning Blue asks, “Are you a
religious man Bob?”

“
Are you asking if I
believe in God if so, the answer is yes, but do I sit and read my
Bible daily, the answer is no. If you...”

“
Enough Bob, enough! I
don’t want to hear yer entire religion background I just wanted to
know if you knew this Sunday was Easter. My father was a
Presbyterian minister and we celebrated Good Friday and Easter.
Today is Good Friday, Easter will be the 27
^th
of
March.”

“
Blue, yes we did
celebrate the Resurrection we did not use the name Easter, our
family celebrated Resurrection Sunday. Why I’m not quite sure, had
to do with something about my grandfather I think. But thanks, I
knew Resurrection Sunday was sometime in March or April but I was
not sure of its exact date.”

“
Yeah, Sunday will be the
27
^th
of March, 1864. This will be the fourth year I have
spent Easter in the Union Army, what about you Bob?”

“
Uh, I joined in the
spring of ’62, so I suppose this will be my third Resurrection
Sunday in the CSA. I surely hope and pray I will not be in this
place for a fourth, in 1865.

Chapter
Thirty-Three

THE PICNIC

Sitting under an apple tree high upon
the mountainside Luke and Catherine can see the farm down below;
the wind rustles softly through the leaves, the air is warm blowing
moving waves across the sea of grass as far as the eye can see. The
ripening apples scent the air with a pleasant sweet
smell.

They are enjoying a summer
picnic.

Spread out on the blanket are fruits
and melons recently picked from their garden and orchard. Savoring
the taste of freshly picked strawberries Luke has a far-away look
in his eye as he looks out across the rippling, wind-blown
grass.

“
Penny for your thoughts,”
says Catherine.

“
Oh, just thinking of home
and my family. Wondering if I will ever get back to Alabama
again.”

“
You remember the day you
and Sam brought that bear down from the mountain? And you took me
in your arms and kissed me?”

“
Why, I never...you were
the one that did all that kissing stuff.”

“
Didn’t that kiss tell you
something?”

“
Oh yeah, it told me how
cold I was.”

Picking up a piece of fruit and
throwing it at Luke she pouted by saying, “Why Luke Scarburg I
ain’t never!”

“
You ain’t never
what?”

“
Didn’t you know right
then and there that I loved you?”

“
Loved me? Catherine,
you’re just a kid. That is just a silly notion on your part. Some
day you’ll find a fine young man and settle down with him and raise
a dozen children.”

Sliding over close to Luke, her long
golden hair waved in the breeze as she took his face in her hands,
her sky blue eyes looked deep within his as she planted a big kiss
on his lips. “I’ve already found the man I want to settle down
with.”

Pulling back, Luke said stammering and
stuttering, “Hmm, uh... you just wait a minute, Catherine Babb,
like I said you’re just a kid! You’re just eighteen, and Catherine,
I’m thirty-two!”

“
I was nineteen my last
birthday Luke Scarburg, and if you won’t have me, I guess I’m just
going to be an old maid!” She said wiping a fake tear from her eye
with her dainty embroidered handkerchief, “and besides in only
thirteen years I’ll be thirty-two also!”

“
Now, now, Catherine do
not cry. I promised your father I would see after you and if that
means marriage then, I’ll do that too.” Slipping back across the
blanket closer to Catherine, “I’m just a big liar Catherine, I
remember that kiss like it was yesterday, I’ve loved you from that
first night I saw you when we stumbled into your house from the
blizzard. I thought you were the prettiest thing that I have ever
laid my eyes on.”

“
Truly Luke? And you’re
not just saying that ‘cause you told Father you would see after
me?”

“
Yes, I truly mean it, I
just thought a beautiful young girl like you would never care about
an old, war-weary, soldier like me.”

“
Yes, I do care, I care
deeply,” Catherine said throwing her arms around his neck again. “I
love you Luke Scarburg, you old galoot.”

As they were finishing their day
together Catherine was packing up when Luke took her hand in his,
“Catherine it is summer, harvest season will be upon us before we
know it and then we must leave. We must go to Alabama.”

“
By ‘we’ you mean me, Sam
and Nate.”

Putting his arms about her waist and
pulling her close, he kissed her, “Yes you bet I mean
we!”

THE MAP

Back at the ranch Nate and Sam were
sitting on the front porch. Nate had his boots propped upon the
porch railing. He grinned as Luke and Catherine walked toward the
front steps, “You young’ens have a good time?”

Luke slapped Nate’s boot with his hat,
“Yes we did you old coot, besides it ain’t none of your
beeswax!”

“
Well, it took you long
‘nuff to see them sparklers in Miss Catherine’s eyes. I thought you
had gone blind. Thought you might git around to a little sparkin’
sooner or later.”

“
Oh, hush up, you old busy
body. Now that everyone is here, especially you Sam, I wanted to
give you back that gold nugget and the map to the gold stream once
again.”

“
Now wait a minute Luke,
you mean the tale you told me and Nate about those outlaws, old
Lucas and that bear was all true?” Catherine said finding her a
chair. “Well, I’ll be, I thought you and Sam made up that story on
account of me being so mad at you both for that bear you brought
in.”

“
Yes, it was all true, and
the gold filled stream is also true as you can see by the size of
this nugget,” said Luke handing her the nugget and the map to Sam.
“I am going to carry you and Sam to my folk’s home in
Alabama.

Speaking to Sam, “Once you are of age
Sam you can come back here, find that stream, and become one of
Kentucky’s richest men. As far as Catherine, I’ve asked her to
marry me and we intend to make us a good life in Alabama. Is all
this fine with you Sam?”

Nodding his head yes, he could not
take his eyes off the beautiful gold nugget Catherine was
admiring.

“
All right now that’s
settled let’s do some planning. It is late spring, Resurrection
Sunday had come and gone and the 4
^th
of July is nearing.
We have finished the planting; harvest time should be in a month or
two. We must dry what vegetables and fruit we can; we have to kill
the game and cure it and make jerky. The first cold freeze we need
to butcher a hog, cure and salt as much of the meat as we can for
the trip. The main thing: we must take our provisions with us, we
cannot rely on trying to supply our needs from the countryside –
this War has exhausted everything. There is nothing to be had; we
cannot forage along our route of travel. We must get on the trail
in the early fall, winter will be just ahead, so we will have to
prepare all our provisions and leave before the first snowfall. We
can be in Alabama in about a month, give or take. We definitely
should be able to get there before Christmas.”