Spring Will Come (43 page)

             
Moses heart pounded with excitement.  How he wished he could be in the swarm of soldiers who would destroy Lee.  He was grateful for any part in the army, but his desire to be on the frontlines was growing. 

             
Captain Jones stopped his pacing.  “Join our unit, Moses.  We leave tomorrow to attack one of the passes through South Mountain.  We are going to catch Lee in his game!”  He paused.  “You won’t be in the battle, but you’ll be in the group of scouts who will determine their defense.”  He paused again then walked over and placed his hand on Moses’ shoulder.  “I believe someday soon there will be black soldiers in our army.  It’s men like you who are going to make it happen.”

             
“Thank you, sir.”  Moses turned and left the tent, his head high.

Robert knew it was going to be a long night.  Things weren’t going the way Lee had planned.  That had been obvious when McClellan sent his army forward to smash through the Smith Mountain rampart in two different places.  No one knew what had caused the cautious Union general to act so out of character.  If McClellan had been just a little more aggressive, he could have destroyed the Army of Northern Virginia.  It was only McClellan’s normal hesitation – his delay in sweeping forward - that had kept Lee from retreating back to Virginia.  In the meantime, Jackson had captured Harper’s Ferry - along with eleven thousand Union prisoners and hordes of supplies.   Instead of retreating, Lee had ordered his army to concentrate at a little town called Sharpsburg. 

              “I ain’t feeling so good about this, Lieutenant.”  Hobbs’ voice was quiet, his face pinched with strain.

             
Robert turned to him, trying to hide his own uneasiness.  “Why not, Hobbs?”  He already knew the answer.

             
“Well, I know we’re in a pretty strong place up here on this high ground overlooking that muddy creek down there...”

             
“But we’re not exactly invulnerable.”

             
“Yeah,” Hobbs muttered.  “The way I figure it, the Yankees got a lot more men than we do.  Not to mention they probably all have shoes and are eating decent meals.”  He paused.  “Not that I’m saying we can’t beat them soft Yankees,” he said fiercely, “but...”

             
“You’d feel a lot better if the Potomac wasn’t right at our back door,” Robert finished.  He had already thought what Hobbs was thinking.  If McClellan
was
to break through their defenses, there was only one ford for a crossing.  If a quick Confederate retreat was necessary, Lee’s army would simply be destroyed.

             
“Yeah,” Hobbs muttered.  He managed a weak grin.  “Maybe the general thinks we’ll fight harder if defeat just ain’t an option.”

             
Robert managed to return his smile.  He had been struggling with his doubts all day.  Of course, he could not voice them to any of his men.  On the face of it, Lee had every reason to depart quietly without a fight.  Robert knew the general well.  Lee was choosing to stay when he did not have to stay - choosing to fight when he did not have to fight.  Since he was not out of his mind, the only conceivable reason for staying was that he believed they could win.  Robert had been trying all day to develop the same confidence, but it continued to elude him.  There was a deep unrest in his heart.  Something in him warned of tragedy.  He had made every effort to shrug it off, but it clung to him like a pesky mosquito, biting at every positive thought he tried to dredge up. 

             
Robert turned to look out over the muddy creek in the distance.  He knew it was called Antietam.  He was surprised anyone would bother to name such a tiny thing.  Open, rolling fields panned out as far as the eye could see, with the exception of a corn field almost directly in front of their position.  The corn was mature, standing taller than any man.   Towering over the whole serene landscape were mountains, the same blue as their sister Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia.  Robert never ceased to be amazed that such vicious fighting could take place in such beautiful locations. 

             
“What’s that white building in the distance, Lieutenant?”  This question came from another of his men who had walked up to join him and Hobbs. 

             
Robert shrugged.  “All I know about this place is that they call themselves Dunkers.”

             
“I know about them,” the man volunteered.  “My daddy lived around here before he came South a lot of years back.  He told me Dunkers is another name for German Baptists.  That building must be their church.”

             
“German Baptists......”  Robert probed his mind for something he remembered Matthew telling him years before.  Suddenly he had it.  “Dunkers are a pacifist Christian sect.”  He grimaced.  They might not have wanted to fight, but there was no way to stop the fight from coming to them.  Robert knew their little community would never be the same after what was coming. 

             
“You think we can take them, Lieutenant?”

             
Robert shoved down all his doubts and turned to the knot of men who had gathered to hear the answer to Hobbs’ question.  He deserved to be shot if he allowed these brave soldiers, who had already endured so much, to go into battle without full confidence.  “Those Yankees don’t stand a chance,” he said with a broad grin.  “Thankfully, one Rebel is as good as two Yankees.  I figure the odds are about even!”

             
A cheer rose around him as determination replaced doubt on the men’s faces. 

             
“Those Yankees are finally going to give up!” one man crowed.  “They’ve got to get tired of losing soon.”

             
“Yeah!  They’ll think twice before they come to the South to bother us again.”

             
“I just want to beat their pants off of ‘em and get back where I can eat something besides apples and corn,” one soldier called plaintively. 

             
Robert watched them wander off with a smile.  They were good men.  As soon as they were out of sight, his smile disappeared.  He was worried.  He could play whatever game he wanted to, but the truth was that this would be their hardest battle yet.  He looked out over the ridge where he could see a veritable ocean of bluecoats.  It didn’t look like McClellan was in a hurry to attack.  That gave him a small measure of relief.  At least some of Jackson’s army would have time to join them before morning.

             
Morning rolled in with a heavy blanket of fog.  Robert and his men stood ready all day, but still McClellan’s guns remained silent.  More of Lee’s army reached the field.  Robert took some relief in the strengthening Confederate force even though he knew they were still seriously outnumbered. 

             
At sundown there was sound of a brief clash off to the left, but Robert wasn’t alarmed.  It was simply not in McClellan’s nature to start a serious fight at night.  He continued to wait and watch, his men bringing him reports of even more men pouring in for the fight.  Robert bantered with them, building their hope while his own dwindled. 

             
Night finally claimed the field for another day.  A drizzling rain offered welcome relief from the heat.  A queer silence fell over the field.  It seemed as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting in dread for another day of slaughter and death.  If it were possible, the dark clouds that had already claimed the country, settled even lower over the battlefield of Antietam, infusing men’s hearts, filling them with deadly determination and a cold fear.               

             
Robert lay on his back and stared up at the drifting clouds; his head rested on his haversack, his rifle close at hand.  Why could he not escape the feelings of gloom invading his heart and mind?   He had been in plenty of hard battles already.  Each one had been entered with a certain amount of fear, but never the feelings assailing him now.  Unbidden, his mind floated to Carrie.  It seemed somehow sacrilegious to see her beauty in such a place.  Yet, it was her face that gave him his only glimmer of hope - her ready laugh and loving smile that gave him the determination to fight.  He had to make it through this battle.  He had to go home. 

             
A slight smile played on his lips as he allowed himself to lose himself in the memories.   She was such an incredible woman – full of goodness, courage and integrity.  He could hardly believe she had agreed to be his wife. The knowledge of her waiting for him filled him with wonder.  She was his bright light in the darkness. 

             
Hobbs materialized beside him.   He sat down and at first seemed to be content just to sit there. After a long while he spoke.  “I know you’re trying to make the boys feel better, but you’re not too sure about this, are you?”  His voice was almost a whisper.

             
Robert didn’t try to deny it.  Hobbs knew him too well. 

             
The silence stretched out between them.  Then Hobbs continued, “If I don’t make it, will you tell my mama?  Write her a letter and let her know I died fighting?”

             
“Of course,” Robert replied.  Hobbs had never made such a request.  It made him even more uneasy.  Hobbs was not just one of his unit - he was a friend.  The battlefield had proven the great equalizer. “If something happens to me... will you tell Carrie?” 

             
“You bet, Lieutenant,” Hobbs promised.  “I’ll tell her.”

             
The two men sat quietly, waiting for dawn.

The new day had not fully made its way onto the world’s scene when the first shots r
ang out, muffled by the misty drizzle and low-lying clouds.  Robert sucked in his breath and craned to see in the half-light.  Flashes of light from firing rifles appeared due south of his position.  McClellan was going after Stonewall Jackson’s men.  Robert knew Jackson was waiting with artillery massed around the Dunker church and solid ranks of infantry in the cornfield.  The gunfire was sporadic, indicating McClellan was sending skirmishers to test the lines. 

             
“Get your men ready, Lieutenant!”

             
Robert spun around as a sharp call came from behind him.  “Yes, sir, Colonel Masters!” he responded.  He barely knew the Colonel, but he liked the man’s steady eyes and ready smile.  This morning he was all seriousness, his eyes scanning the horizon.

             
“Is your horse ready?” Colonel Masters snapped.

             
Robert hesitated.  He had assumed he would be on foot with his men, but Granite was saddled behind the lines.  “Yes, sir.”

             
“If you need him, don’t hesitate.”

             
Robert exchanged a long look with the colonel.  The only reason he would need Granite would be if all the other commanding officers for his unit fell in battle and he had to lead the charge.  “Yes, sir,” he said more slowly.  The Colonel saluted and rode away. 

             
Robert turned back to stare at the battlefield.  The Federals had put a long line of field pieces on a low ridge facing Jackson’s position.  Moments later the early morning exploded as the cannon burst into action.  Robert watched in horror as the guns launched a methodical, murderous bombardment that flattened the tasseled corn.  He could see scores of fallen men lying with the cornstalks.  When the bombardment finally stopped, the Federals once more surged forward.   There were still enough of Jackson’s men to fight, but most of his line had been blown to bits.  They held their ground but finally gave way before the superior force, and the Federals swept up toward the Dunker church.