The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (49 page)

“They been pretty bad for a long time,” Hobbs replied blandly.

Robert nodded.  “You’re right, but I met with some officers last night and got caught up on everything.”  He took a deep breath.  “Wilmington has fallen.  Sherman marched out of Savannah and went up through South Carolina.  He took Columbia a little over a month ago.  The city almost completely burned, though no one seems sure who started the fires.  Sherman is marching through North Carolina now.”

Hobbs gasped and clenched his fists.

“It gets worse,” Robert said heavily.  “Charleston has fallen, and Sherman has left much of South Carolina in the same devastated condition his troops left Georgia in last year.”  He took a deep breath.  “We’re outnumbered more than two to one, but that will get worse when Sherman arrives, and Sheridan is on his way down from the Shenandoah, which will stack the odds even more in their favor.”

“We won’t be able to stop them,” Hobbs said bluntly.

“No,” Robert agreed.  “We won’t be able to stop them.  Even if we were healthy and had plenty of supplies, those odds are almost impossible to beat; add in the fact that hardly one man in Lee’s fifty-thousand-man army is well, and we simply aren’t left with a good scenario.”  Robert smothered a cough as he spoke, glad Carrie couldn’t see how gaunt he had gotten in the six weeks since she’d been to the front.

“You’re not sounding so good, Captain,” Hobbs said in a worried voice.

“So says the man stomping around in this despicable mud with an elevated shoe and crutches,” Robert said, forcing a smile to his lips as he fought to control his cough.  He’d thought Hobbs was crazy to come back to fight but had to admire his spirit and loyalty.

Hobbs shrugged.  “At least I don’t sound like I’ll hack up my lungs.”

“No, you don’t.  Obviously they make men tougher in western Virginia than they do down in the lowlands.”

“You just figuring that out?”  Hobbs asked, his eyes glistening with laughter.  “I’ve been knowing that for a right long time.”

Robert grinned and then sobered.  “You’ll have to be tough for what will happen tomorrow.”

Hobbs stiffened to attention.  “What’s that, Captain?”

“Lee has decided to launch an attack.”  Robert saw Hobbs jerk his head around, but he stayed silent, waiting for details.  “I don’t know everything.  I  do know Lee is not  going to sit here and wait for more than one hundred thousand more men to join Grant.  Lee’s plan is to launch an attack that will force Grant to shorten or weaken his lines so we can get out of here. Part of the plan is to capture a Union supply depot about a mile from here.”

“Where we going?” Hobbs asked, his eyes dancing with excitement.

“That’s a good question,” Robert replied.  “One I don’t know the answer to.  Perhaps we’ll join up with our forces in North Carolina.  I don’t know.”

When Robert saw Hobbs suddenly frown, he knew he had seen the bigger picture. 

“What about Richmond?” Hobbs asked hesitantly.

Robert remained silent, not willing to give voice to his thoughts.  Both of them knew if Lee abandoned the trenches, Grant would send enough of his army in to take Richmond.  Robert couldn’t bear the images of Carrie and Thomas in Richmond surrounded by burning buildings.

“We going to be in on the action?” Hobbs finally asked, his somber voice revealing similar thoughts.

“Yes,” Robert replied, relieved to add, “but you will not be in on it.  Sitting in the trenches and firing a gun with a bad leg is one thing.  Tromping through this mud in an attack is another.  Speed and surprise will be the key to success.”  He saw disappointment flash through Hobbs’ eyes, followed almost immediately by a spark of relief he could totally understand. “If we break through, you’ll have transportation to come with us.”

“I reckon I wouldn’t be able to help very much,” Hobbs agreed gravely, “but I’ll be back here waiting.  When will the attack happen?”

“Four o’clock tomorrow morning,” Robert replied grimly.  “We have six hours.  I’m going to try and get some rest.”  He knew when he said the words he would have no sleep that night; his thoughts back in Richmond with his beautiful wife.  How could he break through the Union lines and run – leaving her behind?

Silence fell on the trench as both men lapsed into their own private thoughts.

Moses glanced over at Simon hard at work on a letter to June.  Moses had  finished one to Rose and had already sent it on its way.   Three months had passed since he had surprised her at the Christmas dance.  Memories still flooded his mind, but they weren’t enough to ease the ache of missing her that battered his heart daily.

“Got something on your mind, Moses?” Simon asked, looking up from the paper he carefully wrote on. 

“Captain Jones called me to his tent today.”
              “Yep.  I saw that.  I figured you would tell me about it when you was ready.”

“He doesn’t think Grant will wait much longer to attack.  Sheridan is almost here with his men from the Shenandoah, and Sherman is almost here, too.”

Simon nodded.  “I’d say we have a pretty good chance of breaking through those lines and taking Richmond with that kind of strength,” he said confidently.

Moses nodded.  “Grant is about ready to make his move.  Captain Jones says he thinks it will happen in five days.”

Simon gazed at him.  “How do you feel about taking Richmond?”

Moses swallowed hard.  “I have mixed feelings.  I know we have to take it for the war to end, but I’m scared of what will happen to Carrie.”

“From what you tell me, she’ll probably be up in the hospital away from the fighting.”

“Yes,” Moses agreed, “but I’ve heard too many stories of what happened in Atlanta and Columbia to feel very relaxed about it.”

Simon frowned.  “I hear tell that Sherman says he didn’t start that fire in Columbia.”

“It did the same kind of damage no matter who started it,” Moses said flatly.  “The only thing that gives me any kind of peace is knowing I’ll be there.  My goal is to find Carrie and make sure she stays safe.”

“She’s lucky to have you for a friend.”

“I owe my life and freedom to her,” Moses said quietly.  “And she’s Rose’s best friend.  I would do anything for her.”

Simon nodded but then added with a scowl, “I hate being stuck away in Fort Stedman like this.  Not much is likely to happen here.”

Moses gazed over the top of the trench at the earthen walls of moated Fort Stedman less than fifty feet away.  “About the only thing that can be said for this position is that we’re the closest to the Confederate lines.”  He smiled tightly.  “Did you know some of their men came over a few weeks ago to do some trading?”

He smiled at Simon’s astonished look.  “They didn’t have much to trade with, but I hear they went back with some much desired tobacco and coffee.”  He shook his head.  “I heard our boys were laughing it up with them, and then about thirty minutes after they went back to their trenches we were exchanging fire again.”

“You reckon that’s true?” Simon asked.

“It’s true,” Moses confirmed.  “There is nothing normal about this war.  I’ve known it since the beginning, but as it draws to a close, it seems to get more bizarre.”  He stared over at the Confederate lines.  “I can’t help pitying those men.”

Simon nodded.  “You can hear their coughing and hacking all night long.  Don’t sound to me like
any
of them are well.  We may be miserable, but at least we have warm clothes and food.”

“I’ve seen a bunch of them changing places in the trenches.  They don’t look like much more than skeletons,” Moses said sympathetically.  “It’s pathetic.”

Simon gazed toward the rebel fortifications.  “I wonder what keeps them fighting.”

“Same thing that keeps us fighting,” Moses said shortly.  “They’re being told to fight, and they have loved ones to protect.”  He grew pensive.  “I wonder if they realize it’s almost over.  There’s no way they can stop what is about to hit them.”

Simon nodded.  “What will you do after the war, Moses?”

Moses smiled.  They’d had this discussion for what seemed like a thousand times, but he knew thinking of the future made living the present more bearable.

“I’ll spend every moment glad I can spend each day with Rose and John, and then we’ll have many more children who will grow up free.”  His smile grew broader.  “I’ll find a farm somewhere and help Rose become a teacher.  My goal is to have one of the biggest tobacco farms in the South one day.”

The misery of the muddy trenches dissolved into the glory of a shining future alive in his mind.  He turned to Simon.  “What about you?”

“I’m headed north,” he said, swinging his gaze in that direction.  “Me and June talked about it over Christmas.  We had enough of the South.  We might come back some day, but we don’t reckon things will change very fast even though we’re free. We figures we have better opportunities in the North.”

Moses nodded thoughtfully, wondering, as he had for weeks now, whether he should tell Simon he had discovered that racism was rampant in the North too.  So far, Moses had remained silent, knowing it wasn’t
worse
than in the South, but pondering whether he should prepare Simon for that reality.   For the moment, Moses decided to let Simon’s fantasies make his days easier.  “Sounds good,” he said.

Simon went back to writing his letter to June.  “I’m telling her we’re sitting around until Grant is ready to take action.”

Robert gripped his gun more tightly as he waited for the word that would send him surging forward with the eleven thousand men Lee had given to General Gordon.  He was quite sure the pre-dawn attack would be a total surprise.  No one expected the Confederates to be bold enough to launch an attack, which was probably the only reason it might work.  Robert wished he could quell the uneasy feeling spiraling through his gut, but also realized he felt that way before every battle.  Lee’s audacity had paid off in the past – the general might pull off another miracle.

The nine-foot-tall earthen walls of Fort Stedman stood in dark shadows in the frosty distance.  Robert knew from his briefing what would happen soon.  General Gordon had selected lead parties of sharpshooters and engineers masquerading as deserting soldiers to go out first to overwhelm Union pickets and remove wooden obstructions that would delay the infantry advance.

The rest of the attacking infantry would wait for the signal to advance.  Robert worried about the early morning air, clear and calm, which would carry voices and other sounds clearly. Anything that give away the surprise attack would be disastrous.

Robert watched with suspended breath as the lead brigade moved into the tall corn field across from Fort Stedman.  White strips of cloth pulled over the men’s right shoulders diagonally to the left side and tied around their waists stood out clearly.  That precaution was to make sure Rebel soldiers could recognize each other in the darkness. 

Robert stiffened as the voice of a Union sentry rang through the frosty air.  “I say, Johnny, what are you doing in that corn?”

The answer came quickly.  “All right, Yank, I’m just gathering me a little corn to parch.”

The brief silence resonated more loudly than the spoken words as Robert tensed, ready to rush forward if the game was up.  While sharpshooters might rule in daylight, one oddity of war was that at night the opposing guards, separated by less than five hundred feet, often became quite chummy.  This plan of attack depended on that.

“All right, Johnny, I won’t shoot.”

Robert sagged with relief and sensed his men up and down the line doing the same thing.  He fought to control the cough struggling to escape. 

Long minutes stretched out until another call came from the Union picket.  “I say, Johnny, isn’t it almost daylight?  I think it’s time they were relieving us.”

Robert grinned as the answer rang back clearly.  “Keep cool, Yank; you’ll be relieved in a few minutes.” 

Robert knew the relief his fellow soldier had in mind would not be what the Union private was anticipating.   The rustling noises in the corn had been lead soldiers carefully dragging aside sections of chevaux-de-frise – spiked wooden barriers chained end to end – to create an opening through which Rebel infantrymen could attack the Federal lines.