Calvary Joe

By James Perrine

Calvary Joe is the story a soldier who goes through many things. He fights Indians and runs off ruffian fellow soldiers. Joe meets his wife and has children. He has a friend that goes through trials as Joe does. The Calvary soldiers also, fight bandits, and those times are harsh. But as Christians, we must endure all that will present itself to us in the present or in the future. God, Joe knows, is in control. He is like all soldiers, brave and scared. Joe respects all his opponents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645158516

Book preview

1

Joe had been a cavalry trooper for two years on the frontier in this—this godforsaken land. He hated the sight of smelly buffalo and the sight of panhandlers, who plied their trade on new folks. He thought the best of Sergeant Samuel Owens, who had seen a few Indian skirmishes. The first sergeant of the post, on the other hand, was not to trifle with. His name was well-known throughout the southwest states. He would put a few troopers in the stockade for their behavior in towns with saloons.

A soldier had even been pistol-whipped for bothering an Indian girl, whom it had been determined was only fifteen. This was justice on the plains, or so it would seem to Joseph P. Harley of Missouri. He was assigned to B Troop of the cavalry company, known as Alpha. There was not much for the troopers to do, except gamble or read comic-style books of the West.

This was, in fact, the year 1879, with not much fighting going on with the Indians. The Sioux were being peaceful for now after the bloody slaughter in 1876 of General Custer and his men. Joe shuddered at the thought of what happened to the dead at the hands of squaws. He had grown up as Christian at the hands of the pastor in the second Baptist church in town. His daddy gave him more learning at home on the Bible. He shared a room at the back of the house with his brother, Billy. Their mother was a real good cook and won awards at church social gatherings. Joe enjoyed those gatherings with other boys his age while growing up.

There was a certain red-headed girl that caught the eye of Joe when he was sixteen. He had every hope of going on a hayride with Sally. She was so pretty. I will ask her to go with me on Monday at school, he thought.

Monday came, and at lunch, Joe got up the courage to ask her. Sally, would you go on the hayride with me next Saturday?

She told him she would ask her dad. Joe thought it would be a yes answer by her daddy. Sally was a very well-liked girl even by other girls. He was smitten with Sally, as was half of the class of boys he was in. She did get approval to go with Joe on the ride. They talked for a while and became silent, gazing at the stars on such a nice cool night. He wanted to give her a kiss, as she had such a pretty mouth. Sally turned her face to him and stared into his eyes. Joe is in heave, he thought. He leaned toward her, and they kissed. There were a few giggles by other couples engaged in similar activity. Ah, teenage kids are the same in big towns, like Chicago.

Joe had heard of the cavalry for some months now. But he needed to spend time with Sally to see where things were going. She expressed a desire to go on to college after they completed their education. Joe, what are your plans when we finish school in June?

He was swayed by the sound of adventure on the posters he had seen. The cavalry seemed to be calling him to duty. He wanted to serve in the US cavalry out west in Indian lands. Could Sally wait on him? He wondered.

Now here he was—out west with no girl waiting for him as she had chosen to go to college without him. Well, he had begun to think her a bit fickle any old way! It was hard to say goodbye to his family in his old town he called home. It always seemed to be hot out here in a big way. After a while, you got used to the heat. The sergeants made you carry plenty of water when you went on patrol. They all had heard of a man who went crazy when he ran out of water in the desert while out prospecting for silver. His bleached bones were found by a patrol when they went out looking for Indian activity a year later.

Joe was reading his Bible at chapel services like always. He found the story of Paul to be his best liked character in the New Testament. The chaplain had described how Saul had been knocked out of play by a new man named Paul. Joe saw some of Saul in each of us, even himself. All of us are born sinners; he had been taught in Sunday school. Some of the soldiers bothered him about his beliefs in God. He did not ever get riled by their taunting. He was, after all, a child of the King. There was one other trooper who he knew was a Christian. He was Corporal Bob Deacon of Kansas City, Kansas. They were a good pair of Baptists. It would be tough if they could not sing hymns or worship God, even in the midst of all this desolation.

Once in a while, Joe would get a letter from his mom back east. She would talk of his dad and little brother. He missed them all back home, even his dog, Samson. The dog had gotten old and would soon be put down by his dad. Joe knew he would miss the dog when this enlistment was over. He would go back to Missouri and live there. He sometimes wondered about Sally, as to whether she was happy or not. Perhaps she would be willing to be his girl later on.

2

As the cavalry troop got closer to post, the men became more full of cheer at the prospect of showers or what came close. Bob even appeared to be happier than Joe had seen him before. The first sergeant thought it would be all right to get drunk for all who wanted to. Joe would stay at the medical billet to see to his buddy. He knew that Bob needed to be in good hands as all soldiers had heard of various infections. The doctor said Bob would be recovering in due time. Joe knew this would please Mrs. Deacon, Bob’s mother back in Kansas. They often talked of the real faith both of their mothers exhibited.

To, one day, marry a God-fearing woman was to be the best thing! Bob had been raised by his mom, as the father had died in the civil war. He had one sister living in Topeka at a convent. She wanted to be a nun, a different route than Bob had chosen. He loved his mom and sister very much and missed them. Even the first sergeant was said to be missing family. Who would have known such a man had any kin? But we are all children of the King.

Joe got emotional over thoughts of his home also. He wondered about single men in the troop as to how they coped. Joe resolved to witness more to these guys as time would allow it. He loved his God and wanted others to be in this same fellowship! What did the Sioux call God? He wondered as he entered into the chapel. He heard they believed in the great spirit. One day, he hoped to speak with a Sioux about their religious system. For in this setting, they could develop a better understanding of cultures. Indians and whites, blacks, or Hispanic, we are all people.

Many folks on the plains or southwest hated Indians. Perhaps we drove the Indians to act this way by moving west into their lands, thought Joe. In a few years, could peace come to these lands? It would take effort on the part of all parties involved. He had read a few pulp books about the Western style of living. By now, he could discount many stories he heard or had read of. Joe did not know if the term pulp even existed in his way of speech, but it somehow was applicable. He hoped every young man could have the opportunity to see the western lands.

Joe walked around the confines of post, marveling at all God had made. He came upon a panhandler mistreating his horse. He yelled at the man to stop. There was a sneer on the man’s lips and look of disdain at Joe. When the man raised his whip to strike the horse again, Joe moved into action at the arm raised. He grabbed it and wrestled it away, at the same time, sending the evil little man on his stomach. At once, the man pulled a knife he lunged at Joe with. They both engaged in a fight for dearly loved breathes. Two sets of arms pulled them apart. It was Reilly and a guy named Burrows.

They took the man to the provost for cowardly conduct. No man should treat his animals this mean way! Horses did get here before us humans, some thought. Besides, how could you get around in these parts except by horse? Mail came by a courier on horse or by stage driven by horses. In fact, the mail seemed to be slow, getting to its destination out here. Would there one day be a faster means of us getting around the country? Only the future can tell if this will happen.

Joe remembered a roan he called Billy. That horse could fly on the wind if only in dreams. He loved that roan of his. Women said they could love a flower bed, dresses, and shoes. He wondered how that is possible? Maybe he should ask his mom one day about it. Now his pa was one who did boast about Samson and horses. This was something Joe could relate to. Boasting seemed to be a guy thing to do. Most fellows did it, so it seemed. Why, Joe had boasted of his first big fish he caught to the boys at school. Now he just felt bruised after that fight in the pen. Reality sure could sneak up on folks. He hoped that guy would get some punishment for hurting his horse.

A good washing was what Joe needed right now. He wanted to go see Bob at the clinic before visiting hours were over. It had been two days since he had seen Bob, who it appeared was near full recovery. Another wounded man had just died as Joe walked in the clinic doors. The chaplain began to pray for the soul of the departed trooper. His buddies stood by with their heads bowed in silence to give time for this solemn date. Joe came to the bed of Bob and sat by him in the chair. It was good to see a fellow believer in Christ.

You sure are in good spirits, Bob. Joe was glad his buddy felt better than the first he had seen him in the arroyo fight. The doctor said Bob could go fight again soon. He also began to examine Joe for any possible broken ribs or lesions. Joe did not need much doctoring. Their time of visitation was over and had passed too quick. Bob was sent to the troop’s clerical staff for one more week of healing time. He would be out of the heat and dust for a little time. Joe was out in the stable, grooming his horse.

The next day was patrol duty for his unit under the rotating system they used. He would, of course, miss Bob out there with him on the patrol, but he could cope. Joe remembered the time when he was twelve and got lost in some woods. It started as a game with some pals of his, but he got separated from them. He panicked at first, but as it got dusk, he believed he would be found. Joe waited patiently for daddy or some other adult to find him. Time passed slowly for him, but a man’s voice could be heard calling his name. It was his gramps calling out to him, waiting for Joe to respond. Joe was so happy to be found out here in these woods. It reminded him of the prodigal son story from Sunday school at his church. He could definitely see the similarity. Gosh, Bible stories were sure good and full of God’s love or admonition to us.

Sometimes the church put on a play at Easter or Christmas. He liked to watch them. One year, he got the part of the boy Jesus. Joe felt a sense of awe in playing this part. He invited other kids to go to his church as this felt right for him to do. Some kids snickered at him; a few did come. So it would be years to come for others to invite folks to the preaching of the gospel and be scoffed at. The Bible did teach us about these things. Joe came out of this reverie and was now in the present time of history.

The first sergeant told them to mount for patrol duty and check their weapons. He always looked to their welfare out here in the post. Joe wondered if contact would be made with any Sioux warriors and if the soldiers had the advantage. He sure hated that other encounter in the arroyo. Today, they moved in the opposite direction of the other patrol. Information had come in that the Sioux were noticed raiding south of the post. More settlers had been killed by a war party in the past day. Joe prayed as his troop made its way toward what he hoped would be no contact. They rode on and saw a few buffalo in the distance. The scout rode further ahead to find tracks of the party, and he came back at a gallop. The braves were only one mile ahead. It was time to be ready for a fight and pray for safety. Joe wished for Bob to be here in this trying set of circumstances. He did envy the fact his buddy could stay in the shelter of post duty. Many of the men had the fear of combat as stale as a dank pool. Joe could hear the curse that the first sergeant let loose. It had been the way that man wanted to be coping with things.

The troop began to wheel right to be in the best position to attack the Indians. Joe began to feel scared himself and for the other men. One of the guys, a big German named Schmidt, always looked calm. He had fought in wars in Europe and now in this area. Schmidt seldom talked of his family in Germany. Some thought he was a loner. But one thing was for sure, he would fight good! Joe was, of course, glad for Eric and others just like him. A soldier needed men he could count on to be ready. Would this be the day he died? Many of them thought. Who would take on the duty of sending word home of a man’s death? Each thought. All of them thought of acts they had, in fact, done good or bad.

At times like these, a conscience did come in handy or be a curse. Joe was not lacking in that area either to be his dismay. All come short of the glory of God; it said from the book of Romans. God is just and merciful to forgive sins. Joe began to feel the presence of Jesus in this desert area called by some a place of skulls. Who did the Sioux fight before the white man? Joe began to ask of himself. The troop stopped on the crest of a knoll to observe what the Indians were doing. A plan of attack began fanning in the captain’s mind with aid of the scout. Soon some men here would be seeking their own destiny.

3

The unit of cavalry stayed unobserved on the hill. There was no squaw visible in the camp. Luckily for Joe’s outfit, hills were on three sides of the Sioux males. This provided excellent avenues of attack. Captain Barnes ordered the men to fan out and place themselves in position for his signal. As the unsuspecting braves were busy, the soldiers rode hard into the camp. Rifle shots broke the serenity of the calm morning as men on both sides said a silent prayer to their gods. Joe shot a brave while he was running to grab a weapon. The Indian pitched forward and did not move. There was utter chaos as men were shot or pulled from their steed. The first sergeant was fighting off two braves, who were intent on his hat being removed for a scalping. Joe shot one brave on the right to try to even things up. Schmidt was in a fight with a brave equal to his size. Everywhere that one looked, men were in throes of combat. Corporal Greene had been shot in the head and lay still.

After what seemed to be an eternity, things began to slow down. Three braves were captured; the rest were all dead. Troopers began to care for the hurt and cover the dead. Out here, it was no good to smell dead bodies of any race. Men got shovels to bury the men from both sides. Running Bear hoped to escape from the soldiers at first chance. He had fought them bravely and was sorry for the Indians who would not go home. When would the whites leave his lands or be killed? Maybe they would just keep coming out west and limit where tribes could stay. He must escape to go tell Chief Sitting Bull of the soldier’s plans.

Joe looked at the young sullen man in front of him. He was defiant, even being on the losing side. All three of the braves were put