Tear In Time (38 page)

  “Sir,
could you stand with the rest also?” asked the photographer. “And could you all
stand by the wagon with that wounded man being attended to? I believe it
creates a great accounting of your skills,” he asked, pointing to the medical
wagon a short distance away.

 
Earlier in the day, just after breakfast, David had received urgent word that
his patient had turned for the worst. The young private had been wounded in the
lower leg at Gettysburg, and David had worked to stay ahead of the infection
since then. Unfortunately, David’s efforts were not enough. After several months
of treatment and just before Gen. Grant arrived, David performed an emergency
amputation on the young private’s lower leg. As he rested in the back of the
medical wagon, Gen. Grant had arrived for inspection.

  As the
officers walked toward the patient, David looked around and sensed something
familiar. He looked at the open clearing, the gurneys, and the aspen forest.
David suddenly had the feeling of déjà vu.

  As the
men lined up by the supply wagon on the other side of the gurneys, Dr. Morgan
sat in a chair off to one side. Instantly, a chill ran down David's spine. He
suddenly realized that the photo he brought with him was not of the clearing
near the time portal, but it was in fact of the very clearing he was now
standing in. David looked around again. The similarity between the clearing at
the portal and this new location were startling. He shook his head in
disbelief. This was going to be the same photograph he found in the elevator
before his arrival to this time, the same photograph he'd been carrying around
for the past year in his haversack, the same photograph of the same men. That
is, all the same except for one detail – David was now going to be in it. Once again,
he was changing the future.

  As
quickly as the men lined up, the photographer was done. David was now recorded
back in time.

 
Shortly thereafter, Gen. Grant announced his need to depart. He thanked David
and Dr. Morgan for their hospitality, mounted his horse and rode off with his
men.

  As Dr.
Morgan and David watched them ride on out, David kept the photograph to
himself, remarking only about Gen. Grant’s personality.

 
“Interesting man, that Ulysses Grant is. Not as uptight as everyone portrays
him to be,” David said.

  “In
moments of peace, he's a warm, entertaining man, but when the action starts he
transforms into someone else: cold, calculating and unpleasant,” Dr. Morgan replied.
“Let's hope he doesn't have to call in any reserves. It would be a shame to
tarnish your impression of him before you leave.”

  “Let's
hope he doesn't call me in, period. It would really suck if I got shot again
before I left,” David responded.

 
“Impeccable logic, Lad,” Dr. Morgan replied.

Nov. 23
1863

  The
day broke clear and bright. The cold night’s temperatures carried into the
early morning, creating a lethargy that spread through the valley like a
plague, affecting all living things, resulting in a slow, lazy start to an
otherwise beautiful day.

 
Sitting by their cannons, rebel soldiers shivered in nervous anticipation for
the battle to begin. Days before, Confederate command received intelligence
that Gen. Grant had arrived and was maneuvering for an attack. With each
passing day, their anticipation mounted as they sat as defenders, waiting for
the enemy to begin their assault.

  Gen.
Grant woke early and studied his battle plans once more. As the day’s weather
proved favorable, the decision was made to proceed ahead of schedule. Sending
orders to prepare for battle, the sluggish soldiers struggled through their
morning fatigue as they were maneuvered into position.

  The
Confederates’ wait was over. With the roar of cannon fire, the Union army
opened the battle with a volley onto Signal Mountain, high above Chattanooga -
the Battle of Chattanooga had begun.

--- --- ---
--- ---

  David
heard the loud roar of cannon fire and noted the time: 10:33am. He turned
toward Dr. Morgan and nodded. If all went well, David would soon be back in his
time, enjoying the luxuries of the 21st Century.

  Off in
the distance, David listened to the exchange of cannon and artillery fire. It
echoed throughout the valley, sending animals and birds running for shelter. As
the stiff November breeze flowed through the valley floor, it carried the odor
of discharged black powder. David found the smell offensive, and tried to cover
his nose and mouth with a rag, but quickly realized the futility of his action
and stowed the small piece of linen in his pocket.

  He
walked over to the operating tables and inspected them once more, ensuring
their readiness. Dr. Morgan stepped over to him and said, “It won't be long
now, lad. By the sound of that cannonade, I'd say both sides are taking quite a
pounding.”

  “I
know. Every little sound I hear, I think it's an ambulance coming up the
trail,” David replied as he looked around once more.

  “Poor
lads. It's got to be rough on them,” Dr. Morgan replied thoughtfully.

  “Man,
I'm glad I'm not a part of that suicidal attack. I mean, let’s face it. A full
frontal assault uphill, against a well entrenched enemy would not be my first
choice of attack,” David said.

  “What
would you suggest?” Dr. Morgan asked with genuine curiosity.

 
“Attack the town and starve out the men on the hilltop. It's pretty simple,
really,” David responded. “The fact is, we outnumber them, so taking the city
wouldn't be too hard. The loss of life wouldn't be nearly as great as Grant's
frontal assault, and once you take the town, you hold the prisoners inside the
city. After their friends on the hilltop hear that their buddies are being held
inside, they wouldn't think of firing on the town. At that point, you just
surround the hilltop and prevent supplies from getting to them. It might take a
little longer, but it would save thousands of lives.”

 
“Sounds reasonable. Did you inform Gen. Grant of this idea?” Dr. Morgan asked.

  “I was
about to, but witnessed a terrific berating Grant gave to one of his generals
for suggesting a simple change to his plan. After that, I just kept my mouth
shut,” David said.

  “Hmm,
I've heard that about him. In the heat of battle, he is not a man to cross,”
Dr. Morgan related.

  “It's
funny how he can change his personality so dramatically.” David added, “One
minute he's sitting around a fire, laughing, sipping whiskey and smoking
cigars; the next he’s tearing you a new one.”

 
“Pardon my ignorance, David, but what is a new one?” Dr. Morgan asked.

 
“Sorry. A new asshole,” David responded.

  Dr.
Morgan smiled for a moment, then laughed out loud. David, hearing his old
friend’s contagious laughter, joined in and laughed also. Their laughter was
cut short as they heard the sound of horses approaching their camp. Both men
knew the sound and reacted instantly.

  “All
men to your stations. Here come the wounded,” David shouted above the sound of
the battle.

  As the
two ambulances rolled in, all men raced to their stations and prepared to treat
the wounded. Cries of pain echoed off the trees as the wounded soldiers were
pulled roughly into camp. In minutes, the men's wounds were assessed, vitals
taken, and were treated in the order of least significance.

  Barely
treating two patients, two more ambulances arrived, instantly overwhelming the
medical staff. Working quickly, David and Dr. Morgan were able to work as a
team to treat the excess in a matter of minutes. As the roar of the battle
continued, so did the ambulances. Nearly every fifteen minutes now, new
arrivals were detected by their awful screams of agony as the ambulance drivers
hurried the men through the forest of aspens and into camp.

  As the
hours passed, both David and Dr. Morgan kept an eye on the influx of wounded
that were being treated. Looking for an opportunity to leave, David found one
in early afternoon, as a lull in the action marked a good time to attempt a
cross of enemy lines.

  David
finished up his patient and waved Dr. Morgan away from the men.

  “Doc,
I'm thinking this would be a good time for me to try to get to that portal.
Both sides are taking a breather. I’m sure if I make a wide loop around the
mountain I should be able to cross undetected,” David said.

  Dr.
Morgan looked at David disapprovingly and responded, “Son, this is a very bad
idea. I must tell you truthfully: I believe it to be foolhardy, and I fear your
chance of success to be slim at best. Please reconsider.”

  David
could see the anguish in his old friend’s face and struggled to find some words
of comfort. “Doc, I'll be alright. I'm not going anywhere near the enemy’s
lines, and even further away from their scouts on the back side of the
mountain. You know I must go. There is just no other way to return home,” David
said in pleading tone.

  Dr.
Morgan searched David's face for a sign of weakness. There was none. David was
determined and he knew there would be no turning him now. In saddened
acceptance, he replied, “Son, please be careful. I wish you the greatest of
luck.” Dr. Morgan then extended his hand.

  David
shook the old doctor's hand and pulled him close to hug him. As they both
stepped back, David replied, “Thank you for all your help. If it wasn't for
you, I'd never have gotten this far.”

  Dr.
Morgan nodded in recognition, then showed David to his horse.

  “Make
sure your sidearm is loaded as well as your rifle. When you can, walk. Keep
your steed between you and the mountain. They will shoot the horse before they
shoot you: and don't forget to use the creeks to mask the sound of the horse’s
hooves,” Dr. Morgan rattled off in succession.

  “I'll
remember,” David replied simply as he stepped up into the saddle.

  For a
moment they stared at each other in silence, searching for the right words to
say. Finally, David spoke, “I keep wanting to say to you, 'keep in touch', but
I know that's impossible.” He swallowed hard and continued, “I feel the sadness
of a lifetime of lost friendship. What do you say to the man that saved your
life and helped you find your way? Doc, you've given me more in one year than
thirty years could not. You've taught me duty, honor and loyalty: qualities I
took for granted, qualities that gave depth and passion to my life. I came here
to this time scared and without true direction. I'm returning with courage and
purpose. The greatest teacher of my life has been you. The greatest friend of
my life has been you. I don't know what to say except thank you, and I'll never
forget you.”

  Dr.
Morgan dabbed his tears with an old dirty cloth. He tried to say something in
response as he held back his emotions. Finally, he was able to force out a
simple reply, “Godspeed to you, son. You're in my prayers.”

  David wiped
away his own tears, then nodded goodbye. He prodded his horse with his heels
and rode off. Dr. Morgan stood and watched him ride out until he was out of
sight.

  Under
his breath, he sighed heavy and said to himself, “Lord, I need your help. Keep
him safe.”

---- ----
---- ---- ----

  David
rode out of camp, still reeling from his goodbye. He knew if he was going to
succeed he would need to focus all his attention on his mission. Concentrating
on the forest in front of him, David weaved through the trees, tugging on the
reins and spurring his horse to greater speeds. As he rode from camp, he headed
north, away from Signal Mountain, hoping to ride far beyond the reaches of the
enemy. Nearly two miles away, David changed course and headed west on a parallel
course with the mountain. Riding harder and faster now, he kept a constant
watch for the enemy. With each bluff he crested, he slowed to a stop, listened,
observed, and continued on.

  Three
hours later, David had circled around to the back side of the mountain
undetected. He knew he was close to the clearing that held the time portal as
he crossed a small meandering creek. He stopped for a moment to water his
horse, then pressed on, hoping to make the clearing well before nightfall.