A Strong Conflict: In the Trenches of Darkness

By Brian L.J. Keator Sr.

A Strong Conflict: In the Trenches of Darkness is the second book in the highly historically accurate Strong Brotherhood series set, and it is a direct sequel to A Strong Brotherhood in Blood, continuing with Zachary Strongs epic journey in Company K during the American Civil War.

Despite over two years of war and personal tragedy and the undoubted knowledge of close cousins in gray, Zachary fights not only the visible enemy, but his own weariness, emotional psyche, and erosion within the darkest corridors of his mind. Through the hardshipshorrors, heartbreaks, tribulations, and savagery of men in times of warZachary questions whether the Southern Confederacy is, in fact, his greatest enemy.

As the war enters its third summer, it now turns toward Zacharys own home as the two immense Eastern armies cross into Pennsylvania for the Gettysburg Campaign.

A Strong Conflict is not only a depiction of what men ceaselessly endured or of historical events, but also of the timeless story of psychological change and the evolution of men in war, as well as the endurance and perseverance of the human spirit. It is extensively researched and based on numerous primary documents written by the common men who were there.

A Strong Conflict: In the Trenches of Darkness is the second book in a series set of innovative and highly unique crossover novels, all with the same historical accuracy and integrity of A Strong Brotherhood in Blood, which will satisfy both the novice and the professional historian.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543476163

Brian L.J. Keator Sr.

Brian L.J. Keator Sr. is an education specialist with a Bachelors degree with honors from Binghamton University with a specialization in 18th and 19th Century military history and warfare, including a premiere emphasis upon The American Civil War. His extensive and unrelenting research of more than thirty years consists of not only the campaigns, events, politics and personalities of the era, but the social history, etiquette and social composition of armies, as well as a deliberate understanding of the strategy and tactics throughout the linear age.

Book preview

A STRONG

CONFLICT:

IN THE

TRENCHES

OF

DARKNESS

Brian L.J. Keator Sr.

Copyright © 2018 by Brian L.J. Keator Sr..

Library of Congress Control Number:      2018900146

ISBN:                  Hardcover                      978-1-5434-7614-9

                            Softcover                        978-1-5434-7615-6

                            eBook                             978-1-5434-7616-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/16/2018

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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CONTENTS

I.           A Second Beginning

II.          The Great City

III.        Lost In The Wilderness

IV.         The Mule

V.          A Cold Harboring

VI.        The Citadel City

VII.       Holding On

VIII.     War Upon The Cockade City

IX.        Deep Bottom

X.          A Second Deep Bottom

XI.        Returning Home

Dedica

tion

TO

Rhonda Ralston and Brianna B,

And

Solomon

Individuals of supreme character whom despite their own difficulties seek to help others in darkness and need, whom helped me through my darkest days and helped me to re-find God’s greatest gift, Hope, when I thought I had none

And

To the honorable men of both armies of the war whom are not forgotten

For

Without these resources the creation of this book would not have been possible

One’s life is a journey and ever-changing adventure. Tragedies, heartbreaks and sadness will pass and wounds shall heal, and life is not to have the absence of fear or hopelessness, but the courage and strength to decide not to surrender, and to refuse to allow darkness to obscure nor steal the light. The energies of faith and hope shall always prevail and defeat the power of darkness as does light over dark. Life is not the present, but rather the presence, of light and loved ones which shall always overcome the Darkness in the Trenches of our minds.

I. A SECOND BEGINNING

Union Army II Corps Bivouac

Maryland / Pennsylvania Border

June 30, 1863

A s Zachary Strong arches his aching scarred back he spans the surrounding rolling hills, richly and magnificently encased within a thick majestic fog. He nearly catches the involuntary, momentary smirk as his dirty fingers rake the thin but neatly trimmed beard. With another deep weary breath, he returns the stub of a pencil upon the decrepit sheet of stationery,

As we carry on into this third summer of the war no end seems in sight. We feel as we are either worse off or in the same place as two years ago. Who could of ever imagined that it could go on for so long, and those who speculated so were considered tom-fools or hully insane. Ourn uniforms are in rags and rot on ourn backs as we madly pursue and try to catch Lee’s army, said to be taking the war to ourn own soil. Despite the pleasing sight of ourn Pennsylvania mountains and the Susquehanna River my mind is fixed upon all that’s been lost, and the reduction of the Pack to a mere skeleton of what it was back in ‘61. Stewart, Tex, Ant, Arnold, Edgar, Petr and Mickey all gone, and you Brother Taylor, not here with me to once again see the hills of ourn home. For those of us who still remain, Chance, Strawberry, Studder, Bunny, Tucker and even Benjamin it goes on, and we try to look after one another though even now ourn prime General Hancock, The Superb, marches us on such a deathly pace as to lose thousands along the roadside with seemingly no regard for ourn well-being. We are as used up as a spent cartridge and I have no idee how we are to survive. But above all my deepest pain and regret is not to raw bleeding blisters, hunger, aches or exposure but to the pain and worry I have caused you Mother each and every of these long past days.

Through the faint swirling smoke of the expired campfire, he gently nudges the nearby and motionless blanketed mound, You can jist feel the difference, can’t cha’ Chance? His comment is met with but a muffled grumble, and harsh sneeze. Again Zachary gently kicks the worn woolen coverlet, C’mon, rise up Rosie and view this magnificent scene; precious Pennsylvania and her Endless Mountains after two long years, and marching for the Susquehanna… headed home at last. A snort of irritation escapes Zachary’s nostrils, as his dark tired eyes return to the heights, It will be good to again see the fat Dutch barns, Scottish hills and prim German orchards of ourn native home, though the absence of toiling livestock here is downright disturbing.

Chance wearily yawns, rubbing his long sandy side-chops, while blindly searching the ground with his spare hand, I did not think it possible to fall asleep in Maryland and wake in Pennsylvania.

Zachary grins, Jist roll a slight over and believe it dear friend; that is Littlestown up ahead and Hanover jist yonder.

Chance groggily slips on his thin wire spectacles, before slowly opening his large leather pad, There was skirmishing at Westminster right after our departure; near Chambersburg, Hanover, and Fairfield too… seems all around us. I have close relations just northeast of Fairfield in a nearby little crossroad burg; my uncle’s very prosperous farm. The young scholar deftly folds a handkerchief before blowing his sopping nose, How is James and Tucker; and has Bunny yet returned?

Strawberry is Strawberry… Zachary sighs, …unnerved at the scores of abdicated homes here on ourn own soil, so abandoned and dark and seemingly defenseless, and offering his omen of imminent gloom; and I fancy it was these prone abodes that was engaging Bunny’s attentions certain sure but seen him jist yonder a spell ago.

Chance delicately polishes the dusty lenses, Bunny has been in more trouble than the last bird in the henhouse with a fat preacher coming to dinner, and his disposition swings are more than one can conceive. He now owns five wagons in the train but his affairs are in disarray Zack, and he will not let a soul spy at his ledgers.

You know Chance… Zachary says drifting, …when we marched past Liberty, and I reflect on ourn Pennsylvania seal of Liberty and Independence… flying against the very thing they fight so long hard and well for, deprive and sacrifice themselves for, I… I do not know…

Chance dimly grimaces as his busy hands still, Life is the reverse of rationality, with the ability to turn all upside down. Now we are the dirty, tired, ragged, hungry army force-marching north to find southerners; and there, to prove all is currently askew, is Bunny and Tuck having already risen without their daily buck! Existentialism at its finest. Zachary offers but a weak grin before strolling over to the spread quilt, where Bunny and six others engage in cards.

Liken if you was to have a pair of things, like twins. Bunny states, as young Benjamin stares off throwing in his hand.

Studder’s boyish face beams as he again scans his cards, This time I got three fell-fellers, a f-four, and a…

Corporal McHugh and two strangers glare while Bunny smiles most paternally, Well that’s prime Studder ol’ boy, now you’d up yer bet! There you see, you’re fancy good at this game Daniel! The two unfamiliar privates toss down their cards, as Bunny conceitedly grins, But I got here a full house of ladies! But not bad for one of dullest pupils in creation; you and Ol’ Petr always dead last in class!

Swiftly Bunny gathers up his pot, as Benjamin dourly muses, That is quite a remarkable feat, bearing your classmates!

Bunny’s jagged smile grows wide, Now ante up agin, ‘cause that is the A-1 ‘bout poker; there’s always the next hand to win all wrath back! Now what do ya’ have this time Studder ol’ pal?

Zachary’s face turns hard as a stone, You cease to swindling Studder this minute Bunny! You may unto others damn you but not ourn own in the Pack! With a piercing glare Zachary squats beside Studder, Here Daniel, firstly you do not voice yourn holdings to them, let me see.

The unknown private with a long mustache, examines his cards with shifty eyes, As I was to sayin’, do not envy Ol’ General Couch and his new Department of the Susquehanna; responsible for protecting the hull valley and Harrisburg with farmers while that devil Stuart is ranging wide and at free will.

The scarred and discreet stranger throws in two coins, They’re cutting telegraph lines and catching up Couch’s spies; Chambersburg’s gripped in panic recollecting Jeb’s October raid.

Chance steps near turning to Zachary; solicitous and tepid, Our own Pennsylvania citizens are now absorbed with the same fearful anxiety that southerners have lived daily with for over two years now. Now tasting a foreign army upon our homeland, and I envision our state’s alarm riders galloping precisely as all the Revere riders did nearly a century ago. Most southerners and soldiers are long hardened, but our residents are still green and live in ‘61. Governor Curtin called for sixty-thousand men in fright, and ordered a state-wide shipping of all records, cattle, and valuables to Philadelphia.

Zachary adds two coins from Studder’s scanty pile, Army should have gone to Hancock or John Reynolds to replace Hooker; born Pennsylvanians and the best we got! I do not understand the selection of this old turtle Meade, and with increasing bands of rogues like Cardine’s rats on the prowl, we need a bit of a tiger. Cousin KJ spoke of Cardine’s services being refused by their army, being they are such a most ruthless bunch.

Chance meekly shrugs, The three C’s… this army had to make a choice, to take a chance, or things shall never change.

Bunny weakly grins and grunts, placing his cards down on the blanket, Three nines and two duchesses; I do so have a way with the ladies! Both strangers disgustedly rise as a pair, before slowly departing with venomous glares, Call and come back now… Bunny chuckles, …and bring yourn Philly Straggler Brigade fellers too; still gots ten pounds of Cape Cod turkey that is sure to go fast! You goats are jist like this here army’s spirit… all played out! Bunny’s grin exposes the gray and jagged teeth, as Strawberry docilely leans to Zachary’s side,

I have this feeling that like those fellers, this army is unwittingly moving right into a Bunny-like trap; we are so spread out and exposed and our goose is as bare as…

Bunny snaps, bagging his loot, You are such croakers! Hancock lacks the self-promotion, political boot-licking and brag to ascend, and Reynolds would not take it on a plate; was offered.

Chance gently and astutely nods, "Well the old turtle has this army moving, a McClellan he is not, though The Herald says Lincoln is under enormous pressure to again bring Little Mac back…"

Bunny interposingly scowls, Old buzzard thought he was under arrest for feuding with Hooker when ordered to command, and cawed he had been tried and condemned, so mought as well go to the execution! I reckon Ol’ Goggily Eyes gets but one chance to prove his brass, and with Ewell’s Corps rumored in York that’s where we ought be footing.

Studder digs into the light brown oily hair; near bowl-cut and streaked with sweat, In-indications round Vick-Vicksburg is the siege there can’t take m-much m-more. Seen sketches of f-folks’ liv-living in caves and holes; w-women and chil-children starving with their army.

Bunny ties up the last of his belongings, before hoisting his kit upon his shoulder, Damn fine news. When Vicksburg falls so does their transport and we will have them cut in two.

Chance diligently tightens the straps of his heavy knapsack, Gazette is headlining further conflicts between the abolitionists and Union pro-slavers of Pennsylvania, and that there is bitter opposition to the proposal of mustering colored Keystone regiments. Stated that nowhere has there been more internal battles or bloodshed over this issue than in Pennsylvania.

Sergeant Major O’Neill scrambles near with a pad in his hand, Didje not hear? F’arm up boys, full kits; w’ar back to marchin’.

Captain Lattin still commands ourn proud company K, but now does so being placed under arrest, for halting and allowing us to remove ourn boots and fill ourn canteens afore a crossing. We took upon about three hours sleep afore we were again called and formed and forced marched upon the roughly piked road; exactly to where with ourn exhaustion complete, no one seems to know. Maybe York or Harrisburg, some say Cincinnati, but as we do not know the intentions of Lee, we must all simply wonder where this next great battle will be. The only thing I feel is certain, is that we all will soon see.

Taneytown Road

Wednesday, July 1, 1863

Dearest Father and Mother, we maintained ourn forced march losing many stragglers on the way; we have left through Maryland and on into Pennsylvania where I hope to forever stay. We worry not for these lost fellows, for good soldiers will always catch up, and those are the men you want by yourn side when the deadly heat of battle is up. The fresh fish cling to us, the old hands as which we are known, myself near eighteen, Chance a mere twenty-one. Excited rumors race that two of ourn Corps have collided by mishap with Lee at a crossroads town called Gettysburg and that both sides are flooding thousands of troops there most earnestly. Ourn army is in an abhorred state resembling much like Rebs; we are worn tired and dirtier than ever afore and look like walking dead. Many here are without shoes, rations or blankets, feverishly driving forty miles in two days, and desperately chasing a well-paced and disciplined army now living off our soil. Ourn foragers are often reviled and referred to as thieves and stragglers as they seize foodstuffs and livestock from ourn own people, and many a door is firmly closed afore being kicked in. Many citizens have greeted us with but exploitation to ourn great disappointment, offering us bread and goods at exorbitant prices. Near midday we halted and bivouacked as General Hancock rode ahead to find Meade. As soon as ourn stay seemed likely, muskets are stacked and gear laid off afore every man rushes for the ‘top rail’ until not a fence remains against all strict orders. Small flames are kindled for small and poor rations, though Bunny’s is striking and set by his newly purchased coon; Otis being his name. Now it is once again morn and Sergeants cry for us to form; I feel it likely that I shall write soon.

Zachary’s rough woolen sleeve scratches across the streams of rolling sweat, exposing but streaks of bronze flesh from beneath the near-black layer of grit. The column jostles uncomfortably six men abreast, the mounted field officers leading the way with the two stands of colors and the prestigious guard marching directly behind them. The sun pounds upon weary faces, many of whom suffer without water or wide brims. After once again being kicked in the heel, Zachary spins and sharply shoves the green Jasper Arnold, Keep in step, a forearm back! My blisters cannot take any more you senseless yak! Regretfully he pats the teen’s thin shoulder, knowing their age nearly the same, but that they are poles apart and unequal in so many ways. Does not seem right Sergeant O’Malley, you not being here; that sturdy, steadying marble eye chasing away all ourn fears for nearly two years. The backs and calves of even the stoutest vets ache and sear like fire at the grueling pace. Bunny even gags and pants as never before, as the column is finally halted near the scanty shade of the winding roadside. Men take a knee as many gasp and wheeze feverishly; a few even toppling over. A fair private grasps his lurching sides before spewing violently. Zachary begins to rebuke Strawberry and Private Young for their guzzling of water, before his eyes catch a large formation in a far clearing, where countless ranks are formed in a great hollow square.

Tuck mutters in his typical scattered way, Division at least a division, division… three mounted star bugs with their staffs there, big affair; what do you know? I am certain no beanpoles. Zachary rests a gentle hand upon the troubled tottering shoulder, as a jostling ambulance accompanied by an armed guard swiftly nears, directly followed by a large coffin-laden wagon. Exhausted veterans and fresh fish alike, catch their breaths as they fix their eyes upon the solemn but familiar sight.

Bunny snarls, his attentions searching the road, Damn lazy nigger teamsters! Told they was workers though black as tar! And ain’t seen not a one of my goddamn wagons so far! Eyes turn away from the rant, returning to where three distant captives are guided from the death cart and to freshly dug graves, before being forced to kneel upon the placed caskets there. One doughty man glares acutely defiant, and most admirably brave.

Three stout, robust young men in flush of vigor and manhood wait patiently to be coolly and deliberately shot down by their closest comrades, as the firing parties are marched back and forth afore the condemned men, with the hammering of drums sharp in the air.

With three firing details of eight men each and a reserve of twelve more in the rear, the great crackling discharge from twenty-four muzzles collapses the corpses into their new homes. Chance’s eyes drop as he removes his cap, while Bunny scampers off to the dispersing scene and away from the Pack. He closely gapes at the bodies being stuffed in, looking back animatedly with his crooked, spiteful grin, Would ya’ believe I can count twenty-one pill holes, leaving but three useless mudsills! Serious thing to the end, forsaking the government you swan to defend. As the Negro diggers lower in the first box, Bunny clears his nostrils into the grave while sputtering countless curses and taunts.

Studder looks to Chance and Zachary, a meek moistness visible in his hardening eyes, M-must they continue these abominations even n-now upon the very doorstep of a great battle? Slothfully the grimy column is returned to the march and back beneath the cruelest breakers of sun. Zachary eyes the wholly famished Strawberry, as the long dusty lines of filthy men pass a moderate farmhouse with fine white picket fencing,

Thought the war was in Virginia! an on-looking woman remarks, as another coyly stares,

How-dee! Strawberry uncomfortably, and with reddening ears glances to Zachary, whose mind is far away, appreciating the absence of destruction, death, and poverty. Anxiously he looks back to Bunny who marches along, angrily tossing away an empty goat-milk can and a brown bottle. Another dark flask is swiftly produced, as Tuck directly beside, incessantly mumbles jabbered blind curses. Delicately Zachary lifts his cherished timepiece from his vest, affectionately rubbing it with crusted fingers while he gazes west. His eyes wearily drop down to its elegant face, After two past; we must be stopped to eat something soon! He turns to Bunny for some reply, but spies an oncoming cluster of ratty men, being marched by in a single line.

Bunny vehemently spits at the glum and unarmed Federals, as they are escorted towards the rear, Filthy blue lights and leg cases! Ourn kilt are worth more than you for at least they took some Reb lead with ‘em! You ain’t worth a Reb blue-back now! So plum sick of miserable ass-stain mutineers and deserters! Zachary begins to place a restraining hand before the newly opened dark medicine bottle plugs up the rant. The near-silent, quietly groaning column continues slogging on, fighting their raging thirsts and fatigue amid the savage sun. A new dusty line now slogs for the rear, but many of these are increasingly singed, bloodied, and mangled. Many drag rifles or a torn friend, some are badly burnt and visibly bubbled; others are ragged nearly naked with a deathly blind stare, their skin as black as powder as they gaze off nowhere. Studder instantly freezes with a sharp gape, as a sullen man slowly hobbles past, his jaw and lower nose wholly shot away. The chin flesh still retains many pieces like marbles in a sack as Studder’s face entirely bleaches, before he instantly drops to all fours violently spewing. The wave of shredded and exhausted stragglers stumbling for the rear steadily increases, as does the visible expressions of panic and fear. A whitened boyish officer is littered by two weeping men, as AJ’s face forces its way into Zachary’s mind once again. Oh AJ dear brother, where are you? So many officers of such young age plucked from this world, never to grow old and quickly forgotten. How I do pray that this is not the fortune of you.

Strawberry halts plainly inquiring, Who is the bump if you don’t mind friend?

An artillerist with a missing ear candidly sobs, He is our Lieutenant Wilkeson; a mere seventeen when commissioned and so noble in this war. Our guns so splendidly checked the Reb hordes of Gordon that twelve were br’ut to drive us away, and with so much fire trained upon us he could not last long. Solid shot fell in so thickly, one tore through his leg and with his horse upon him he refused to be taken away. With a twisted handkerchief and penknife and by his own hand, he cut off his own leg and tossed the bone away. His eyes brightened when I gave him a canteen of water, but as he raised it to his lips a wounded man cried out ‘For God’s sake may I have some!’ and this right officer yielded it to him, smiled, turned to me slightly, and was gone… in a place where no battery should have ever have been put. Many Chasseur-styled New Yorkers and men with the white moon badges of the XI Corps now flee past in frenzied disorder; their demonic mingling screams of mixed German and English driving home a spine-tingling chill, Disaster, Disaster! Reynolds ‘un Howard killed!

Colonel Stone shouts in disbelief, Get those damned Duchy wretches back to the lines! By God… General Hancock and his staff now dash to the front, as the divisions swing into battle-lines; The Thunderbolt swiftly dispatching mounted couriers, as a familiar one-armed general with a single standard-bearer exhaustedly gallops by, Win… it is a bedlam; my corps, my XI Corps, shattered and being all catched up in the damn streets of town! Barlow is desperately wounded again; he advanced far beyond my order, it is not my fault! I Corps is wholly routed and I will see Doubleday relieved!

Hancock sternly stares off to the distance, his mount stomping nervously, before the body of General Reynolds is seen being littered past. Hancock’s face turns cold, emanating an unprecedented distress, as he simply, distantly stares and removes his hat. His grave expression, so gaunt and so still, gives Zachary the most haunting and tingling chill. With sad opening eyes the Superb now turns, and looks squarely to General Howard, Well Oliver it seems you too are dead, and as if we may have stumbled into the vortex of Lee’s whole concentration, I am to assume command of all three corps, Gibbon will assume II…

Ah Winfield, I am senior commander here, and with John Reynolds dead…

I am aware of that General, but I have written orders from General Meade himself to…

I do not doubt you General Hancock, but you may give no orders here while I am here.

Very well General, but I will second any order you give as I am to select the field as… Zachary’s head nearly spins, amidst all the onrushing chaos, and the polite parlay of gentlemen.

Blaze those flying fucking Dutchman and Oh-Oh Howard! Bunny blurts pointing, Abandoning I Corps cost us as Chancellorsville and now they upped and done it again!

Zachary spies a number of bitter glares, from a throng of stern and gritty Germans, still fiercely standing their ground, Apologies fellers; my friend here jist has a host of personality…

Yes, ‘und we have smelt it afore! one callously replies, Und no man v’ould done better in z’at tragic space, as v’ee were again here so badly placed! I sought z’at vas vhat for z’eese Vest Pointers are here for, whose heads persist so deep up their rears!

Zachary passively nods extending a palm, Is the hull army routed and defeated?

Das is more z’an I know; I only know I go home.

No offense intended, and I am in regret upon word of your General Barlow…

Barlow is ‘un s’vine! another man shouts, Und thinks us dogs! To hell v’it him and z’eese lamebrain bastards; not v’one is fit to pour piss from a boot v’it the orders v’ritten under z’heel!

Two Corps have inadvertently collided into half the Reb army, and have engaged by complete mishap and surprise. We impatiently wait, being told we are in reserve, as troops including General Robinson’s can be heard engaging Andrew’s old classmate Stephen Ramseur, now said our prisoner. Robinson hails from Binghamton New York and is said the hairiest man in either army. The German and Scotch-Irish farms here are about to be introduced to the devastating terrors of war. Is the world so small as so many are gathered here, and shall this be the Armageddon battle that many of us fear?

As Bunny angrily readjusts his headrest and Strawberry snores, Chance rolls over to Zachary in the dim and darkened gray, I heard the Comte de Paris state in French to an aide, that Meade declined responsibility of deciding to retire to Rock Creek or to stay, declaring that this is no place to fight a battle and that he does not like the ground.

Bunny sits up spitting a cork, Aw, your Frog is sho’ bad he was likely ash-kin for liniment!

Zachary gapes dotingly, Hey Bun it’s night; mought you want to slow down that stuff, Doc said to mix it with goat’s…

Go piss your-shelf Sackery; show me a Reb and I will be firsh’t one in line!

Studder rises from his spread blanket; his pale boyish face twisted in thought, John Reynolds dead, perhaps the b-best we have less Hancock; vine is he went in eager against M-Meade’s wishes and now a quarter of ourn army’s been beaten!

Bunny puffs pounding his bedding, Filthy Secsh have yet to taste ourn new II Corps steel, and are well mindful of our rep as the besht and toughest in the hull Potomac!

Chance rolls back, staring up to the darkened sky, General Caldwell now has 1st Division, and our brigades of Zook, Brooke, Cross and Kelly are perhaps the finest in the army. Zook is a vet from PA while the stellar Brooke at only twenty-five is the leading candidate for Brigadier. Colonel Kelly has the remnant, but renowned Irish Brigade, and this Colonel Cross is the epitome of fire and brimstone and ties a red babushka round his head for every fray.

Studder perks up with a soft frown, Ever since An-Antietam his men war paint themselves with pow-powder and whoop like red sav-savages.

With a heavy draw of growing slumber, Chance slowly closes his tired hazel eyes, Yes, seeing them swapping fire with the 12th Georgia who does the same, presented a sight as if both sides wholly recruit the insane.

Sergeant O’Neill now passes, his pipe glowing in the sullying pitch, Heads down, lights be dashed, get the shut-eye now while ye’ can.

Thursday

The Following Day

As Zachary views the first sliver of sunlight pierce the rosy red and fiery sky, the air is so humid and heavy like a thick clinging fog, or the dense clinging tears pooled in his eyes. The sound of distant thumping guns startles many from their bedrolls, before the majestic scene is quickly drowned out by the thousands of coughs, curses and sneezes from rising men. A sluggish Chance kneels alongside, shedding his coverlet from around his thin shoulders with a look of deep heartfelt concern, Upon those hills is the fray; you think we will have to throw in today?

Zachary sighs coldly, We have men in ourn lines with all things from pneumonia to hepatitis, and the army has lost thousands to the roadsides on this horrid march… A meager tear rolls down his cheek, as a vividly stunned Chance offers a hand. Swiftly Zachary draws a sleeve across his face, shoving the gesture away.

What is it Zachary? You were not yourself much of day past. Now spill; we have no skeletons in our cupboard.

Zachary looks about aversely, his lip visibly trembling amidst the dull rumbling of distant belching guns, I could not get to them… he whispers nearly sobbing, …I could not save them, AJ and young Austin; not Taylor not Tex, not Edgar or KJ nor all the rest. An immeasurable weight discharges from his mouth like the mightiest cannon; tears now breaking freely down his writhing face. Chance stares sadly and silent before ruggedly reefing on Zachary’s coat, as Christian Williams sullenly approaches. The grave Brooklyn Pennsylvania native slowly takes a knee, his olive eyes never rising, Oh-Oh Howard and one-third of the army is routed, and our 121st and 142nd brother Keystones’ have been decimated. I know today shall be my last fight, and with no best fellows, you boys may have my rations and…

Bunny hastily snatches up the fare, as Studder offers a meek chortle and kind stare, Aw, every sol-soldier feels that to time, and to m-most it’ll never hap-happen; you will make fine. A few men chuckle and shake their heads, while others including the Pack exchange grim glances of foretelling dread. Zachary scratches his neck and slowly moves away, filling a palm with water from his battered canteen. As he dabs his fingers, lips and face, he spies a mass of hatless men, packed together and kneeling in place, Yet another execution right here in the open? A sinking feeling begins to weigh as a bearded Clergyman of the 88th New York swiftly raises a hand, but to Zachary’s surprise, commences upon leading absolution to the Irish Brigade. As he warns them that any man showing cowardice before the enemy will be damned eternally today, Hancock and his staff pull up amidst the many gathered banners. Slowly they remove their hats in silent prayer, amid a splendid martial tune being played by drums, fifes and flutes. Bugles sound and drums beat as the men are ordered to their feet. The congregation begins to disperse as Hancock wheels his mount towards General Doubleday, Abner, this is a good place to fight a battle, as I told Meade last night. I will shift to the left anchoring on III Corps and the arriving VI Corps will file here on my right. Suddenly the generals are sidetracked by a group of men, leading a pair of Confederate officers to a collecting pen. Doubleday trots his mare to the passing men, My God, General Archer; I am glad to see you!

The gray-clad general glares up, Well I am not glad to see you by a damn sight!

Captain Lattin’s voice calls out, Rise up Pennsylvania; we are moving out! Zachary watches as thousands reform; the army coming to life like a swarming ant hill or an angry bee hive.

Lines begin forming and the rolls recalled, as Studder stares out coldly, streaked wholly peaked, but stands at attention, insecurely tall, Is there still enough ar-army left that has not yet been routed? Zachary listens to the far guns blazing, and the excited beating of hundreds of drums. Chance intently battles to get Bunny to rise though his voice is drowned out, before giving up and rushing into his place. Zachary scrambles seizing up his gear, and momentarily the lobe of Bunny’s right ear. A vicious snarl and savage attempt at his hand convinces Zachary that not even he, can get him to stand.

Corporal McHugh ushers Zachary to the line, Put t’is one on sick call and leave him behind. Strawberry’s face sags in an apparent shock, Perhaps ourn biggest scrap yet, and cannot even get Bunny up for a fight!

Tuck glares pensively, muttering towards his feet, Tomorrow already happening; yesterday whittled today, and there is no thing any soul can do about it, try as all may all may. After another roll call the column is right-faced and marched off, as Bunny is seen being joined by many ill, pardoned men who sneeze, bleed or cough. The humidity is fierce like a thick hazy wall, as Zachary views the brigade, My God we have grown so small; five regiments totaling not two-thousand men… a mere two regiments back in ‘61.

Chance gently pats his left shoulder, Hey friend; how about returning to the living?

Zachary lovingly pushes Chance’s head away, Well now friend let’s look to this day. Clinking tin cups and colliding muskets rattle in the air as the slogging column trudges along behind Colonel Stone’s bay mare. Zachary glances to Strawberry’s missing shoe, and not a thing that any of us except’n shifty Bunny could do ‘bout that… but I feel assured many shoes will be available shortly.

The freckled face discerningly squints to Zachary as their feet slide in avocado mud, You know what is sorely ironic? I wished to compose symphonies and conduct music, and chose a life of culture and against looking up into a smelly beast’s ass… and look at me now! Watching the green patties fall from Stone’s mount and smack dab in my path!

Chance tilts his head as he solemnly marches, offering a genuinely sympathetic glimpse, It is never too late to be what you might have been. Another hour passes as the men trudge on, a single fife playing and sparking a few to quietly mumble along. Suddenly weak cheering is heard ahead in the column, as Chance leans out peering up the side, and weakly producing a fair grin, Well well; isn’t that going to make Bunny sour and solemn, being he’s hoarding shoes back in the column. After a few more sweltering steps the Quartermaster’s wagon is seen, tossing pairs of footwear to wanting men. A rare hint of a ruddiness rises in Strawberry’s face as his hand misses the twirling laces; the new booties flailing against his scarred neck. Numbers of nearby men break into a chuckle, including Benjamin who rises into open laughter, If that ain’t Ol’ Black Luck; the Jonah of all…

Don’t never call me that! Strawberry screams with a glare, Do that again and I will bury you somewhere. Zachary pats the simmering teen’s back as Benjamin slightly slows his pace, and merely drifts back. Finally, when many think they can do no more, the column is ordered to fall out and quickly eat. After dropping packs and stacking arms, the boys begin pooling their hardtack and turning beef. Zachary hurriedly tugs upon Strawberry’s sleeve, Let us try to find something to burn some of the green out. The two gather scanty sticks from the rather bald hill before Strawberry stands up silent and still.

Zachary trains down the teen’s short line of sight, where a familiar Lieutenant with a Burnside mustache converses with three gray captives, No disrespect to you fightin’ men, but why you fightin’ this wa’?

A ragged lanky private with a horse-collar blanket looks the young officer squarely in the eyes, Why you fightin’ it?

Well to free the slaves I suppose, and preserve the Union.

I don’t know ‘bout no otha’ folks but I ain’t fightin’ fer no darkies one way or t’other; I’m fightin’ for ouah rats. All of us’ens here that’s what we’re fightin’ fer. Why can’t you folks live the way you want to and let others live as they do? Live and let live I hear some folks say; be a lot less fuss and bother if more folks took it to heart. The heavily mustached officer nods, as the Rebel laments, Saw a right many young and promising lives snubbed out… some were blue some were gray; you seen enough of this war?

The young lieutenant looks down in deep thought and visible respect, I guess I have.

Well I guess I have too, and it looks like I am gonna’ be sittin’ out the rest of it.

Well I appreciate you talkin’ to me Reb.

See you in Hell Billy Yank. he replies with a salute, which is swiftly and cordially returned,

See you in Hell Johnny Reb.

As the officer strolls away, Zachary steps near tipping his cap, Beg pardon men, but where were you all from?

Tennessee, Archer’s Division. Zachary’s eyes sadden with evident worry, Lord knows what has become of Aunt Sarah’s or Cousin Stephen, I have never been to Tennessee, I am from Pennsylvania.

Reckon I never been to Pennsylvania afore, and wish to not ever agin.

But may I ask with respect, what rights of yours have ever been threatened?

Maybe only few I know of… states a solid, mustached prisoner in a cap of aged gray, …mostly the tyranny tariffs and all agin my home state, but I got rats and maybe more I ain’t heared of, and we all fightin’ fo’ them too.

Zachary turns to the apparent veteran, Forgive me but are we familiar? You vaguely…

Though I am a native of Gettysburg, I am a patriot and a Johnny Reb in belief, thought, law and deed and there is nothing even remotely sane about this war. Your s’pos-ed fightin’ for freedom and preservation while stealing the first and destroying the latter, along with the homes of old, women and babes with self-righteous claims of saving it. I reckon it a disease and I have seen the last of it, and leave you all to it. Sergeant Owen’s sharp voice rings out as the distant line is seen being hastily formed. Hurriedly Zachary tips his filthy cap before rushing back to Company K and the stifling march.

Nearly an hour passes in the blistering heat, with only the sounds of distant guns, tin cups and tramping feet. As the exhausted column moves up the wooded, rocky hill, man after man welcomes the shade like a dear long lost pal. Finally the brigade is ordered to a halt near a Maine regiment, crouched behind densely stacked breastworks. A dark-haired colonel with a ferocious mustache stands before a small group of glum, guarded men.

Bunny now sedately nears, slurring a host of obscenities, I have near twenty pairs of boots using space in my train and some wretch yonder’s flinging ‘em out for free… what? More filthy shhhirkers and Blue-light shons’ a bishes? Goddamn!

Studder sharply turns away from the seething and swaying Bunny,

before eagerly pointing, Look there, is eight-eighty-third Pen-Pennsylvania. But the entire Pack’s gazes remain upon the six seated prisoners from Maine. Two sit silently on the end of a fallen tree, staring at the ground behind dirty grey beards, next to an apparent veteran with a fiery mustache, who obscures two more sitting sullenly to his left. Lastly, a young man with smartly greased hair stands on the far end, as the heavily mustached Colonel steps up plainly, Any of you fellows care to join us?

Rebs are really coming? the greased private asks with evident skepticism,

They ah really coming; over yonda’ is the whole Reb army…

The ginger private stands, Well, it is pretty dull jist sittin’ here watching.

…any man who joins now, they’a be-be no court-martial.

The oiled man tugs his cap on snug, Why not. while a third rises and states, No man will call me a coward.

The colonel stares at the remaining three men in clear displeasure and disappointment, I will waste no man to guard you, I expect you to be-be here when this is over; Tom, get these men some muskets.

A sergeant glumly looks past the familiar and oddly mustached lieutenant, There are no muskets Sir.

Momentarily the colonel closes his bright eyes, You men go with the sergeant and there will be-be guns available… in a little while; Tom with me. As the volunteers file out and the lieutenant dashes off, Zachary impulsively cries out, Benedict! It is! Arnold old boy! My God it is him, say it is not? Hurriedly the boys rush to the downed tree where Arnold and two others remain sullenly.

Strawberry beams with a tight embrace, So prime to see you dear friend; but what is the corn?

The stocky, once-familiar soul scratches his near-auburn beard, but returns the dark, sunken and tired eyes of a shattered stranger, It ain’t over papers, we had a proud regiment, they took ourn own good flag; there is no more Second Maine! We are good men, I done my part, we all have, and since you all was carryin’ brooms. These West-Pointers use us like niggers and cows, dogs even worse, to feed a war we c’aint win no how. Not with these bungling bastards; and fellows like Artie Brown, Joseph Bucklin or them Merrill brothers may forgive and forget to this 20th Maine, but they’uns all the same! Damn lamebrain… the Black Hat Brigade has been brilliantly thinned; eleven-hundred fifty dead men of eighteen-hundred sent in! I’ve seen enough, I done my fair share, and we have fed enough men for the fat lion’s share. An unknown courier comes scrambling down the hill, swiftly saluting Colonel Stone before turning stock still. Stone plainly ushers forward the note as Captains Lattin, and Hill of Company H lean in close.

Stone puffs in irritation as he folds the slightly crumpled order and dismisses the man, VI Corps has yet still not arrived, and we are to shift back right up the ridge. Attention Companies! he bellows out, as the whole regiment including Co. K is ordered to rise and turn about.

Lost as a Nancy in a whorehouse! Bunny sneers, shouldering both his rifle, and a stout swig,

That poor so-principled patriot Arnold whose name claimed such classroom fame, who commenced his loyal life to lumbering in Maine; and now to simply utter his name only fills my heart with sorrow and pain. How it will grind against Buck Baines’ grain that as a mutineer and the first of us to enlist, his son was led away. We about marched northeast I think, past a small piece of open timbers where ourn ambulances and surgeons’ station was being unlimbered. With great trepidation we went by, many shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries; ‘Oh we will see you later’ I tried to say with a jaunty air, but down to my very shoes I did not feel the least bit jaunty, but merely thought on all I have to lose. I do fear there is to be a long and cruel death struggle here, as we slog into the army’s new line with all indications for another day’s fight rather clear. We are upon a ridge with a grand view; both of the Irish 69th regiments are to ourn left, afore Sickles’ III Corps stands beyond readied for the test. To ourn right ourn own 2nd Division, and beyond the renowned 1st Minnesota then; the first 3-year regiment in the days of ninety-day men. Hardened veterans but their line is so thinned, from so many scraps of being thrown in. It is said the army has formed a great hook, with ourn place at the center of the shank. Ourn regiment once over one thousand strong, now numbers far less than three hundred despite ourn two new past musters; ourn dear own Company K today claims a mere forty-one. To a degree the Pack have taken in young Benjamin, from Harmony Road on the Bend; we count him now as an honorary Pack member and a scarce native friend. He often tags to ourn small band, once fifteen and now but six here for the hopeful end. We had not shared eyes since afore First Bull Run, and the gloom he has seen was shared and glum. One of three Susquehanna County triplets, now there is but one; Bertrand being killed and Bertrum missing, and presumed to be rotting in south prison scum. I do not know what is to be expected from us, for we are so poorly equipped, thinned and lean, again being pitted against a superior fresher army, with better ground for their artillery; better organized and all veterans, commanded by distinguished officers who have ascended not by seniority but aptitude, fire and grit. But they are now in ourn land, and quite new to them, are surrounded by enemies, as we are hully adapted to…

Chance mildly bumps the arm of the meticulously scribing Zachary, You are going to use up all that gift paper before I can do you another such favor.

S’pose you never know the next morning you won’t see.

Chance nods with a wry grin, Touché, vous sont un intellect…

Chance… I find myself thinking on Petr, the way he used to sit there all the while, silently and foolishly with his dull smile. Since he disappeared I prefer to trust he is finally undertaking his farm, but we all know what is done to deserters here, and each and every time it is equally alarming… cannot harden to seeing ourn own men shot down like a steer. He was of such inconceivable strength, but so simple in the mind; I pray he did not go home making his self plum easy to find. I will always believe he has found his farm, critters and peace, and less I hear otherwise, that is where he will forever be.

We were then hastened to link with two of ourn divisions on a ridge, but when we arrive they are but two brigades of about 3,000 men; to face Longstreet or Hill we do not know which, nor does it matter. We are jist southeast of the town with a fine structure far to ourn right upon their cemetery hill. Out to ourn left is a small rocky hill, a large Sugar Loaf Mountain looming beyond, leaving us with great uneasiness in the saddle. Tis rumored that the Rebs are massed against ourn right and center, and it is from