Aidan At Manassas

By Martin Harlick

Aidan At Manassas follows the adventures of Aidan Whitehand and the Georgia Guards before, during and after the first battle of Manassas.Woven into the story are strong elements of family tragedy, betrayal and revenge. Aidan's relationship with General Jackson develops. He is given an independent command and orders to find and kill Union shirkers. The second part describes Aidan's and Graham's journey to Augusta, Georgia and his visit with his mother, sister and Uncle Leo .A lead character is Graham, Aidan's friend who is the company healer. The final part of the book focuses on Aidan's journey with his company to the Shenandoah valley and the fight for the unnamed hill and battle at the bridge. Real historical people such as Jackson, Bee and Burnside are a part of the narrative that includes fictional characters; the all knowing Sergeants Collin and Thrug and an agreeable Colonel Kearns and others I wanted to inject the story with Aidan's perspective of the industrial age, his spiritual candor and his father's mentorship. . The battle, skirmishes, deaths, injuries and all the realities of war are present and infused with a human element. While writing my book I attempted to keep the historical facts accurate but at times re-interpreted history. The faults of any missteps are mine. I enjoyed writing Aidan At Manassas and hope you enjoy reading my book

• Language: English
• Publisher: Martin Harlick
• Release date: May 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463432945

Book preview

AIDAN AT MANASSAS

by

Martin Harlick

Smashwords Edition

Publisher: Smashwords Inc.

www.civilwartales.com

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Aidan at Manassas

Copyright 2020 by Martin Harlick

ISBN: 9780463432945

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Contents

Prologue

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26

Prologue

At the far end of a Virginian valley beside a copse of apple trees was a farmhouse. The single-story building was simple but sturdy. It had been built to last. The adjoining barn and shed were plain structures. A stockade held three horses. Inside the farmhouse, mother and daughter were baking. Two men were working on the roof of the barn. Son, I’m ready for that piece by your foot the one we measured and cut, said the father. The son passed the board and the father began to nail it to the roof.

Three horsemen trotted down the cart path towards the farmhouse at the far end of the valley.

The dogs heard the horses and barked their warning. The horsemen turned onto the farmhouse path and galloped the final yards towards the farmhouse. The two men saw the approaching riders. The mother and daughter ran towards the father and son carrying muskets. The riders were much closer now.

The young man jumped off the final rung of the ladder. He grabbed the musket from his sister, and the cap and cartridge in her hand and started loading. He looked up and knew it was too late as the three riders pulled hard on their reins and brought their sweating horses to an abrupt stop, feet from the frightened women. Two of the men pointed very large cavalry pistols at the husband. The dogs snarled and barked.

One man dismounted. Removing his hat and gloves, he ran blistered fingers through thick, curly hair. He had been riding for a few days and was not used to it. After putting his hat back on and slowly putting the gloves in his pockets, he pulled a revolver from his belt, checked the load, then cocked and pointed it at the father. It was heavy in his hand. His arm didn’t tremble. He savoured the moment.

The son had dropped the musket and was staring at him. The two women were holding each other. He slowly walked over to the father and faced him. They looked at each other. One asked why, the other smiled. The dogs barked. The son was confused. The retort of the cavalry pistol was loud. The father fell dead, shot through the heart.

Murder had visited the farm at the far end of the valley.

Chapter 1

It was the summer of 1861 and the United States of America was awash in civil war. Economic, political and perhaps most importantly cultural differences had split the country into two separate camps, the Confederate States of America and the United States of America. Each had a President and a capital, and both were gathering armies. The war would last four long years, many young men would be killed, wounded, or die of disease. At the conclusion of the war, one country would stand strong and victorious, the other defeated and ruined. The world would be forever transformed.

It had been raining all day. The rain was bad enough, but now the temperature had dropped, and a cool wind from the north had erased the smiles of even the most genial. Aidan trudged on, head bowed, bone weary, hungry, colder and wetter than he could ever remember.

Aidan looked up throwing the water that had pooled on the brim of his slouch hat. He could see that most of the others in the column of Georgians were just as plumb tired as he was. The column trudged on in the rain and cold.

Captain Kearns turned his big bay around and called out to First Sergeant Monks.

Can’t say I’m enjoying the weather Sergeant.

It’s a little damp, Captain, nothing like a cooking fire, and a strong cup of coffee to improve the day.

Captain Kearns wondered just how in hell the Sergeant was going to get a fire started in this lamentable weather, but then again Monks had continued to surprise.

The two Lieutenants of the company approached Captain Kearns, he looked at them and ordered, Word has come down from the Colonel, break the men out for the day. Tell them to find the best dry spot they can, set pickets. What is it, about five o’clock? We’ll rise early tomorrow, four a.m., and resume our march to Manassas.

Aidan was hungry; he needed something more than dried beef jerky and stale corn biscuits. A couple of supply wagons followed the regiment. He was not sure what would be on the dinner menu tonight. He did know that what was in those supply wagons was meagre fare.

He broke out of the line, looking at First Sergeant Monks who gave him a knowing nod. He dropped his bedroll and haversack under a large oak tree and dug deep in the roll for the snare. Jonathan and Graham, fellow company men, said they’d look after his stuff. With the snare in his hand and musket slung over his shoulder, he trotted into the woods.

He walked slowly through the thin brush looking for tell-tale signs of rabbit tracks and pellets. Finding a lot of tracks and pellets Aidan set the snare by a run. There was a big tree a ways off with a large canopy to keep the wet off, Aidan laid down on the driest spot and promptly fell asleep dreaming of a man lying in a pool of blood. He awoke from this vision shallowly breathing just as scared as when the horsemen rode into the yard.

He missed home. Memories of his dad were of a life cut short. He believed he would be with his mom one day. Each day his resolve had grown in his heart, he would find his mother and the man who had killed his father. He lay down and rested for a short bit.

The trap had worked. He knew it would. Picking himself up he shook off the rain and walked to the snare. The rabbit had struggled for no use. The snare was caught tightly around its small neck; he gave the rabbit a solid knock on the head with the butt of his musket ending its short life. Aidan had learned from his dad how to hunt and snare small game. The key was patience. Aidan reset his snare walked back to the cover of the big tree and waited. He was dog-tired like everyone else with the constant marching.

Jonathan was walking up from the stream carrying a couple of canvas bags of water. He spied Aidan festooned with three rabbits, strolling out from the edge of the wood. Jonathan was impressed with Aidan’s hunting and tracking skills. He had grown up in the city, son of a teacher and the only skill he had was that he could read and write. He did not mind though because he was doing a brisk trade in the company teaching others to read and write in exchange for liquor and extra food. He then sold the liquor to the parched throats for Yankee money. So far, he had profited sixteen dollars more money than he had ever had in his life.

When things get done here, he dreamed of setting up a real teaching business and earning enough money to court Rachael Downes. She had grown up not three blocks away from the house in Atlanta that Jonathan lived in. For most of his boyhood, he never cared much for girls. He knew Rachel but she lived on the periphery of his young male dominated world. He had turned sixteen last year, 1860 and he had had an epiphany. Girls suddenly were no longer on the horizon of his life. They were everywhere. Looking at them made his heart quicken. He didn’t know what was happening to himself… but he liked the change. He soon began noticing Miss Downes. She was very pretty and best of all she seemed to notice him.

Once during church service he had caught her eyes and she did not look away. It was a great feeling as the blood pumped through his body. The next week he had got up the courage to speak to her after the service. At the end of the service he looked at his parents mumbled some excuse and bolted for the door.

Standing a few yards away as the parishioners shook hands with or nodded their appreciation of the minister, Jonathan waited nervously. She was there standing on the top stair. She was wearing the green dress that displayed just enough of her breasts. She looked directly at him.

Jonathan stop daydreaming and bring us the water, shouted his friend Graham.

Graham was the company’s resident healer. The regiment had the services of a real doctor in camp. Word had spread that the doctor’s cure was worse than what ailed you. Graham had the knack and word had quickly spread through the company and regiment.

Graham had lived most of his seventeen years on a dirt poor farm in south Texas. He had grown up with Mexicans, Texicans, Texans, Indians, rattlesnakes, and blue skies. His parents did not love each other. His mother always expected more out of life and blamed his dad for their poor predicament. His dad started to drink and lost interest in living.

On one particular hot July day his father got up relieved himself in the bucket while grabbing a fresh jar of whiskey that was standing on the kitchen table. The morning was barely an hour old, faint stars still hung in the sky. He had brought this fresh batch of corn whiskey from old Sam down by the stream. He took a big swallow from the jar, screamed, fell straight down onto the ground, and died.

Graham figured old Sam had forgot how to make good whiskey and had added one too many secret ingredients.

Graham buried his dad and watched his mother ride out of his life. She didn’t even say goodbye.

An old Indian woman came to the farm. He did not know where she had come from; she helped him with the daily chores and taught him how to heal.

He grabbed a water bag off Jonathan.

You thinking about her big breasts again, weren’t you?

Graham if you weren’t so in need of a sow’s titty you might be able to have normal female relationships.

Well there is a better chance of me sucking on a big sow’s titty than there is of you ever touching what’s her name’s big, soft, sweet, smelling titties.

Jonathan laughed at his friend’s easy humour. Her name is Rachael not what’s her name.

Aidan, Jonathan, and Graham had travelled different routes to Atlanta and had joined the army the same day.

They had been assigned to the same squad and company at camp in Atlanta. They had found themselves sharing common duties. A bond had formed between the three of them.

Jonathan and Graham were not born fighters. They found it more to their disposition to get along with fellow humanity. They were proud Georgian’s, however, who put aside their predilections, and decided to fight for Georgia’s freedom.

The regiment had been mustered in Augusta. It comprised four companies; a Captain, a couple of Lieutenants, elected Sergeants and corporals, led each company. The regiment was designated the Georgia Guards. It had been mustered late so it was an orphan regiment.

Orders came from Richmond for the regiment to join the army gathering in Richmond. When the regiment arrived in Richmond, the army had already moved northward. General Lee gave orders for the regiment to continue North find the army at Manassas and link itself to the command of General Bee.

The Georgia 4th was now a day’s march from Manassas.

All the men and officers knew that General Beauregard was assembling a mighty Southern host at Manassas to whip those northern laggards. They did not know that General Johnston led another southern army in the Shenandoah, which was close enough to support General Beauregard.

The officers and men had found out through gossip and newspapers that the government in Washington and Northern public opinion would not stand for a Southern army to be poised so close to Washington. Demands would be made that a Union army march south and teach those Rebs a lesson.

Before the regiment left Augusta, Thaddeus Stoile a firebrand secessionist and Georgian Congressman had presented the regiment with its colours. The colour of the flag was green with a picture of an eagle in full flight. Emblazoned above its head were the words IV Georgian Georgia, Today, Tomorrow

Graham, Jonathan, and Sergeants Aidan and Monks had stood in line baking under the summer sun. Sweat trickled down their backs and flies buzzed in their faces.

Stoile looked up and in a clear strong voice, honed in the state legislature, spoke to the regiment.

Men of the south, of the Confederate States of America, men of the state of Georgia you need to know but one thing. Yes, you fight for the heart and glory of Georgia, but you also fight for each other. The state of Georgia must remain free from the idea of central northern government so you fight alongside each other for that freedom.

The rest of his speech had fallen on deaf ears. He was oblivious to that fact and droned on, in love with his own voice. Eventually his speech had mercilessly ended. Women in bright dresses clapped politely, bands played. The men of the Georgia Guards moved into formation smartly and marched off to war. It had been a glorious day.

Aidan followed Graham and Jonathan to where he had dropped his roll. Looking around he surveyed the scene. Clumps of men dressed in different clothes played cards, others ate dried food; most had lit pipes of tobacco. Arms were stacked; older weapons mixed with brand new Springfields. He wondered if this was real soldiering.

His father had told Aidan that war was a dirty, bloody, sordid affair nothing of the glamour that men sought after. Dad had served in the Mexican war with Scott and stormed the walls of Vera Cruz. He told Aidan stories of men pissing and messing their pants, crying with fear before an assault. The sound of artillery and muskets mixed in with the screams of the wounded as their lifeblood seeped onto the hard ground far from home. He talked about the rage of killing and the leftovers of a battle; limbs baking in the hot sun, bloated bodies, undigested food smeared on a dead face, pools of blood, broken bodies and the smell of rotting burning flesh.

Would these men stand to the first test of arms? He wondered when the time came would he stand and fight? He didn’t know.

Aidan squatted, knees creaking, resting the musket against his thigh. Removing his hat, he rubbed a dirty large hand through his equally dirty hair. The action reminded him of the man who had shot his father. He stood up and stretched his wiry frame. Aidan was twenty years old, five foot nine, blue eyed, with sandy hair. Women found him attractive, and easy to talk to, with just enough of the rogue lurking to make their hearts beat a little faster. He was a confident, intelligent young man, too mature for his age for he had already learned some of life’s hard lessons.

The weather was improving the rain was now a slight drizzle. The wind had stopped, and the air was warming.

First Sergeant Monks had a number of talents; though it was wet, he had managed to start a small fire. Jonathan was impressed. Graham came over and reached inside his shirt. He pulled out a couple of dry cow turds and gently set pieces of them on the small fire.

I thought you smelt kind of funny, said Jonathan.

Monks shook his head and chuckled quietly. Aidan joined the group and began cleaning the rabbits. The little group of four had shared food and other things. Monks knew as the senior Sergeant in the company he had to be careful. Most of the men of the company had voted for him as one of the Sergeants and he could not show too much favouritism to these three. It seemed though, that the men did not mind.

So I want to know again who the Indian woman was Graham? asked Jonathan. Oh I think she was Rachel’s sister, quipped Aidan.

"Now seriously you expect us to believe that your Pa died, your Ma left you and an old Indian woman shows up out of the blue and starts cooking, cleaning, and teaching you some Indian magic?

What was her name? Aidan asked.

Graham knew he was being teased. He possessed a sunny disposition and usually always saw the positive in things. No matter how hard Aidan and Jonathan tried, they could not rattle Graham.

Monks joined in the fun, What was her name?

She didn’t have a name that I knew of, because she didn’t speak English, replied Graham. There were groans and chuckles of mocked disbelief from the others.

They now turned their attention to Jonathan, knowing full well his skin was a little thinner than Graham’s.

Aidan started the easy banter. So are her breasts as big as you think they are or they a fantasy just like Graham’s Indian woman?

I saw her after church and at a dance and she sure filled out her dress, defended Jonathan.

She most probably filled out the bottom half because she is a big girl, big in the wrong places, laughed Graham. Jonathan blushed and stammered some incoherent defence. The laughter that followed brought tears to their eyes including Jonathan.

Monks wiping his eyes looked at the three young men. I’ve been married twenty years and you three whelps know nothing about women or love.

If your wife has put up with you Sergeant that’s not love that’s a curse, said Aidan. The laughter started again as Monks playfully hit Aidan on the shoulder.

Well it’s your turn now. You’ve been sharing our fire for a few months now. We know about your uncle in Georgia, but what about your parents what happened to them? asked Monks.

My dad was murdered, and my mom and sister were abducted, answered Aidan. This was the first time that Aidan had spoken to them about his parents. The revelation brought the laughter up short. Nobody knew what to say.

It’s okay let’s all not get sad and weepy eyed. Anyway, this Rachael could capture my interest depending where she is a big girl. The laughter started again.

The other three were looking forward to the next fire and the questions they were going to ask Aidan.

The fire was now burning well, and the bed of hot coals meant it was ready for cooking. Aidan finished gutting the rabbits as Graham set up an arrangement of wood to boil some water and cook the rabbits. Jonathan piled more wood around the fire to dry. They were all very hungry.

The rain had stopped. Monks reached into his small haversack. He rooted around for the tobacco, the pipe he retrieved from his coat pocket. Not bothering with the flint and linen, he reached down, pulled an ember from the fire, and carefully lit the tobacco he had stuffed into the bowl of the pipe. He was soon covered in a cloud of blue smoke. The smells of the fire, burning tobacco, roasting rabbits, and drying clothes drifted into the early evening air.

Kearns the company commander strode slowly through the camp. He caught a whiff of the cooking rabbit. He hungrily sniffed the air until he was certain of the origin of the smell. He quickened his pace hoping there would be some left.

He found the fire and waited patiently to be invited to join the small band. Aidan signalled the Captain to join them. A plate was provided with some roasted rabbit and Graham passed him a steaming mug of coffee. Nobody talked. Kearns understood that this would be the only fire he would be invited to, to share the warmth and food with the rank and file. He could have sat with his officers, but Kearns was more comfortable here where the talk was down to earth. Two slaves walked by carrying water.

Kearns was not a slave owner as he watched the water carrying slaves. Slavery was not something the men around the fire thought about much. They all had grown up in the south that had the institution of slavery. You could look around the camp of the Georgia 4th and see slaves engaged in a variety of chores. Slaves in the south were a common sight. The men around the fire had by chance met each other. It was by chance that they had grown up not owning slaves. The sight of slaves never entered their consciousness.

Kearns picked a chunk of rabbit flesh off the plate and greedily chewed and swallowed it, hardly tasting it. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Captain Kearns had been born into money in Petersburg. He had lost most of it to some questionable business dealings. He was old for soldiering but believed he could regain fame and fortune here in this short war. Kearns did not know much about being a soldier. He had received his Captaincy because the mayor of Petersburg owed his mother a favour. The Mayor figured if Kearns could not pay his debts then it would be better for Kearns’ mother that her son died a glorious death on the battlefield. This would indeed help the Mayor’s courting of the widow Kearns.

The clouds broke, and the Virginian sunset warmed the air.

Aidan liked the Captain.

Captain you ate those little pieces of rabbit like a hungry puppy, here have the rest of my plate, I’ve had enough. Kearns was grateful.

An aide of the Colonel found Kearns by the fire and presented the Colonel’s orders. Kearns read the order, balled it up and threw it into the fire, and dismissed the aide.

Kearns thought about the two young Lieutenants under his command. They were so innocent. The men put up with them. The two of them were more enthralled with their uniforms than taking charge of the men in the company. How was he supposed to go to war with two Lieutenants who were mere boys? They were good boys but as useless as tits on a bull.

Kearns looked at the small group. The Colonel has given me an order to scout up the path a ways. We heard from some farmers today that there are some Yankees this far south. I figure they are lost. I could have sent one of my young buck Lieutenants, but it is a nice evening for a ride. I have decided to do it myself with help. I’m going to ride up this corduroy path a few miles to see if there are any surprises and one of you is coming with me.

Geez sir it’s always us, complained Jonathan.

But you four are the best I have, replied Kearns.

Captain the regiment has three hundred and seventy-five good southern boys surely you could pick the best from another company, piped Graham.

Look boys stop your whining, you have kept me fed for the last few months, and in appreciation for your consideration one of you is joining me for a lovely Virginia evening ride to find the enemy, laughed Captain Kearns.

Aidan wiped his greasy hands on his dirty pants.

Sir, Aidan said, I’m volunteering to go with you and I’ll teach you a little bit of soldiering. His impertinent remarks might have got him a severe reprimand from any other officer, but Kearns knew that Aidan was jesting. In the past couple of months, he had watched the company grow from a motley crew and Aidan had stood out as one of the best.

Thank you for volunteering Sergeant Aidan. It’s about time. You have been hiding behind the skirts of First Sergeant Monks. I have been waiting for you to contribute, are you up to it Sergeant?

Captain we both know the two Lieutenants intentions are noble. I do not think noble is going to get us far. No disrespect intended I would rather go scouting with you than you having to lead two wet behind the ears gentlemen.

Monks, you and the other two layabouts take the night off. If you do not mind, I will take this big mouth Sergeant with me to do a little scouting.

The group laughed. Monks piped up, You can have him Sir. He is only good for rabbit hunting and babbling nonsense. You’re a good man sir, please don’t go and get him killed before his first real battle.

Kearns smiled to himself and replied, I’ll try not to get him killed. I believe this is going to be a short war, one great battle to decide the superiority of the Southern people and we are going to win that one battle and the war will be over. God is on our side. Those Northern boys are more scared then we are and when we fight them, they are going to wet their pants, tuck their tail between their legs, and scamper on home. Old man Lincoln will be going back to chopping wood in Illinois.

North and south, people believed in their cause and that God would be on their side. They devoutly held on to an idea that war was glorious and bloodless. Amateurs had flocked to the banners to be drilled into companies, regiments, divisions, and Armies. Officers and Generals were selected; some were good, some would learn but unfortunately, for the rank and file most were incompetent. Kearns was a good one.

Monks cried out, Be careful sir, don’t get Aidan going he’ll start to babble. Captain Kearns turned to look at Aidan and saw that the young man was gathering his thoughts.

Captain I mean no disrespect, but this is going to be a long war. My uncle in Augusta told me we are not going to win this war in one battle. The North has more people and more industry then we do. We might win the first battle and maybe a couple more, but like the Phoenix they will keep rising from the dust, intoned Aidan.

My, my, my aren’t you the happy one tonight. We haven’t even fought a battle and you have me eating dust already. You listen too much to your uncle in Augusta, laughed Jonathan.

Monks thought about what Aidan had said. He figured one, two or three battles, it really did not matter some people were going to die. On that note, he shrugged his shoulders and sucked on his pipe.

Kearns ordered Aidan to meet him by the Colonel’s tent and Graham to fetch his mount and get a mount for Aidan. The Captain left the fire to talk to the Colonel. Graham ran after the Captain, caught up to him, and asked, Sir, where do I find a horse for Aidan?

Go get one of the old nags or mules that have been pulling our supply wagons. I’m sure they have an old saddle lying around, replied Kearns. And if you have any problems with the quartermaster come see me.

As Aidan was about to leave Monks looked directly at him, You know he is no country, hunting, or killing man and you better make sure he lives tonight or you won’t be catching any rabbits again. I like it that the Captain sees us as his little favourite bunch. It keeps those good for nothing Lieutenants away from us.

Don’t you worry Sergeant I always watch out for those who watch out for us, Aidan replied. Monks shook his head sucked on his pipe and waved his hand dismissing Aidan. The young man was too smart for his boots, he thought.

Aidan grabbed his canteen and filled it from one of the water bags near Jonathan. He turned and loped after the

Captain and found him standing under a copse of trees chatting with the Colonel, all he heard was ‘thought I would personally.’

It was a struggle for Graham and Aidan to get the blanket and bridle on the mule who did not want to go for an evening ride. This animal had a mind of its own; it snorted, bayed, and bared big yellow teeth.

Chapter 2

The breeze was now warmer. The sun had nearly set. It was a light filled evening with a few summer shadows. Kearns was riding his big bay and Aidan was astride the mule. The mule had been happy eating scraps back at the wagons. He tried to turn his big head and bite Aidan. Pulling his hunting knife from its scabbard, Aidan carefully held the blade and whacked the mule on top of the head with the handle. The disagreement ended.

Rounding a turn not a quarter of a mile from the main camp, they came upon two sentries both sound asleep in the tall grass on opposite sides of the path.

Kearns bellowed, You two son of a bitches get up off the grass and do some proper guard detailing or I’ll have you for breakfast.

The two soldiers jumped up, surprised by the Captain’s ferocity. Kearns rode on. He looked at a bemused Aidan and laughed softly. There are some things I enjoy doing as a Captain, they are good boys, soldiering doesn’t come easy to them. I want to ask you a question. The men elected you a Sergeant. You seem to be holding back. You’re a bright fellow Aidan. How come you let Monks do the leading?

Sir, I figure my time will come. You can’t have two roosters in the henhouse. I’ve learned lots from Bill Monks and I’m sure I’ll learn lots more.

Since Aidan and the rest of the regiment had left Augusta Georgia a month or so ago they had done nothing but march north. The first few days had been unbearable, sore feet; sore legs and sore shoulders from carrying muskets, food and belongings from home. By the time they got to North Carolina only a couple of unknown muscles were sore, the boys had shed a few pounds and a few unnecessary things from home.

On the march north Aidan had also pared his personal stuff down to a manageable load. He was still leg weary though and was having second thoughts about volunteering this evening.

He could have used a good night’s sleep.

Aidan asked, Sir, do you think the enemy is up this path?

Well the Colonel heard from farmers a ways back at Calverton that some Union boys were up ahead. You and I need to find them so the regiment isn’t surprised while we’re eating breakfast tomorrow.

The two continued on both tired from the long day. Aidan broke the silence with a personal question.

Sir, why did you enlist? Kearns didn’t mind the question.

It’s a long story just suffice to say I want to fight one battle, suffer a small wound, nothing serious or close to the privates mind you, be hailed a hero and live happily ever after.

Life’s not like that sir that’s a fairy tale, chuckled Aidan.

You’re right but sometimes fairy tales come true, replied Kearns.

The late evening enveloped them as the shadows lengthened. The next few miles passed quickly. The mule had settled into an easy cadence and Aidan started to daydream. He thought of his mother and father, the house, the smell of his sister’s cooking and his dad riding the old mare.

He remembered his father’s body with flies buzzing around the pool of blood that had seeped out of the mortal wound. The riders had tied Aidan to the stockade then saddled his father’s old mare. They forced the two women on to the horse, tying his sister to his mother. They both looked very scared as the three horsemen remounted, one taking the reins of the women’s horse. As the four horses left, his mother turned her head around and looked at Aidan.

She cried out, Aidan your father loved you. Don’t give up. Go to your uncle.

He watched the man who had shot his father looking at him before he spurred his horse beyond sight.

His head bowed and body limp a feeling of desperation filled him. Tears coursed down his face. He lifted his head half hearing the wagon coming into the yard followed by other riders.

Judge Floyd had warned the neighbours in the valley. He had been riding down the path when the three riders passed him and turned onto the lane of Aidan’s farm. The judge could feel the intent of the three strangers. He spurred his horse to the next farm seeking help for the Whitehands. That’s when he heard the retort of a big pistol.

A few days passed before the sad claws that clutched at Aidan’s heart began to release their desperate grip. One of a resolution to find his mother and sister and a quiet rage to kill the man who had murdered his father replaced the feeling.

The people in the valley helped bury his father. They tried as best they could to console him. Death and burials were common through the valley for sickness killed children and adults with no discrimination. Last winter was particularly hard, as a number had succumbed to the illness, which visited the valley every winter.

This burial was different. Murder was rare in these parts and kidnapping even rarer. The gossip and discussion that followed flew off in every direction. All agreed this was the most exciting event to occur in the valley since the building of the new school.

Aidan was standing in his parent’s bedroom holding some letters, papers and a photograph when the Judge walked in. Good day Aidan.

Judge I’m leaving for Georgia today to visit my uncle. I want you to rent the farm, get a good price. You can deduct a fair management fee and forward the balance to my uncle’s address in Georgia, here it is. Aidan passed him a sheet of paper with the instructions. The two men shook hands. Aidan stowed the papers in his haversack walked out the door, mounted his horse and rode away without looking back.

Sergeant, are you with me ’cause I smell something up ahead, Kearns asked. Aidan cleared his head and apologized for daydreaming.

It’s no big thing son just remember tonight I don’t want to be a hero saving your daydreaming backside, I need lots of people watching when I do something brave and presently you’re not much of an audience. Aidan did not like being brought up short but he was developing an even more positive appreciation of Kearns.

They both smelt the odour wafting in the breeze, which was a combination of fresh horse dung, cooking fires and unwashed bodies. Aidan knew he didn’t smell as fresh as a daisy so there had to be quite a few unwashed bodies ahead.

They dismounted and tied their rides to separate trees. The old mule tried to kick Aidan who moved aside smacking the mule on the rump. The mule sighed bowed its head and started grazing.

Sergeant you and me will go take a peek, not too close for we don’t need trouble tonight, said Kearns.

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