“Get this boy a plate private Rutherford.”
“Yes sergeant.” A young man of about 20 years brought Jacob a plate. “Get in line there, and get you a good dip, we got a piece to go.”
Jacob got a plate of food and sat by a tree thinking about what the officer had said. It made sense, as they had taken him already. He finished his food, and washed the plate in the river, then walked over, and handed it to the young soldier. Thanking the soldier, he made his way back to where the officer stood eating.
“I reckon you may be right sir, where are you heading?”
“We are heading to Higden to catch a train that will take us to Tennessee. We have been ordered there by General Rosecran if the rebs haven’t blown up the rail road. Do you have a kit?”
“A what sir?”
“A kit, every soldier needs a kit; it's eating utensils, sewing, blankets… stuff like that.”
“No, all I got is this here canteen, and my rifle.”
“Ok then, sergeant…get the boy a kit. He’s going with us; I expect you to take care of the boy.”
“Yes sir, I’ll take good care of him.”
“See that you do.”
“Yes sir, come on boy, and we’ll get you fixed up.”
The sergeant took him to a wagon, and began to load him down with blankets, and other odds, and ends. He showed him how to make a pack. “You got any lead for that squirrel gun son?”
“I got about a dozen bullets, and a little powder.”
The sergeant reached back into the wagon, and handed him some 30 caliber ball, and filled his powder horn with black powder. “I reckon that will be enough for now.”
“That’s a lot of ball, and powder sir.”
“Don’t call me sir, call me sergeant. If’en we get in a fight, you're gonna need that. Now when we start off, you hang by me until I tell you different, do you understand? Everywhere I go; you go.”
“Yes sir…I mean sergeant.”
“Ok sergeant, get the men moving.” The officer announced, handing his empty plate to a man.
“Ok men, fall in, we ain’t plantin’ no crops here, get up, and let's get a move on.”
The men began gathering in a semblance of a line, and the sergeant yelled, “Move out!”
The troop crossed the river at the same ford Jacob had the day before, and soon they were heading south along the river road that would end up at the small town of Higden. Jacob had been there before with his dad, and had watched the train come around the bend into Higden blowing it’s whistle.
He looked back as the wagon ford road blended into the trees behind them, and prayed he had made the right decision.
They marched all that day, and then made camp again by the river. Jacob slept fitfully even though he was plenty warm with the blankets. He prayed again for his mom, sister, and brother that they would not come to harm.
The next day they came to the rail road, and to their left, Higden, and the captain called a halt.
“We will march straight on through Higden, and camp by the river. I don’t want you men entering this town, as you might be tempted to purchase some local corn whiskey. I will court martial the man who drinks anything, but water. Move out!”
The troop marched down the rail road track, and through the small town that sat on the right side of the tracks. As they passed the general store, the sergeant noticed five bushel baskets of apples standing on the edge of the porch.
When the troops were settled the sergeant said, “Boy, you and private Burks come with me.”
The sergeant led them back up through the trees to the general store, “Hello the store!”
A middle-aged man, clad in an apron, came out of the store, “We want to purchase two bushels of them apples.”
“I don’t sell to blue bellies.” The man sneered.
“If I turn my men loose on this town, you may not have anything to sell after we leave. I advise you to think that over.”
The man was taken aback by this statement, “I…I guess I can let go of two bushels."
The sergeant offered the man money, “I guess them apples is free, if your troops won’t be coming to town.”
“I don’t accept gifts from Rebs. Get them apple's boys, and we will be on our way.” The man took the extended money.
“Pass those apples out, two apiece when we get back, can’t give them more than two or the whole dern bunch will have the runs here to Sunday. Put any remaining apples into the mess wagon.”
When they returned to the camp Jacob began passing out the apples. One man looked at him with grateful eyes, “Bless you son.” Jacob realized how hard it must be on the troops to march hundreds of miles, and to fight a war at the end of it.
They broke camp while it was still dark the next morning, and the captain marched them back up to the small rock building that was the train station.
They only had to wait thirty minutes before the train huffed to a stop. It had five cattle cars, and a caboose.
The men off loaded the wagon with the mess gear off onto one of them, the horses into another, and then they were ordered to climb into three of the other cars. It was a strange thing for Jacob as he had never ridden a train. The cars smelled like cattle, but at least there was plenty of air for the men who packed in there, to breathe.
He sat down next to the sergeant, as the train quickly pulled out, and picked up speed.
The sergeant sat looking through the slats of the cattle car as the train came to full steam.
“Sergeant, how long will we be on this train, do you think?” Jacob asked.
“We will be in Nashville this time tomorrow, if the Rebs haven’t blown the tracks somewhere. Then when we get to Nashville, we will receive further orders.”
“You mean you don’t know where we will be going from there?”
“Son, a fighting man never tries to get too far ahead of himself, now try to get some sleep. Sleep is something a soldier is always short of.”
He did sleep, and then slept some more, the train only stopping for water, and fuel. The next morning the train stopped about three miles out of Nashville, and the troops were ordered off.
The soldiers looked bedraggled in the steaming heat, as they stood in loose knit fashion. They were ordered to gather their belongings, and then they were marched for an hour before they were ordered into a stand of trees that bordered a farm. Jacob studied the farm, in the distance, but could see no sign of movement. The house with its barn, and pasture land made him long for home.
They camped that night, and the next morning, began marching again. The air was fairly cool when they began the march, but quickly heated up, causing sweat to pop out on Jacobs's forehead, then it stung his eyes.
The sergeant walked along side him for a way, “Do you know where we are going yet sergeant?”
“I reckon too Collierville is what I’ve been told. We are supposed to head off some Rebs there.”
“Will there be a fight, do you think?”
“There might be, you can never tell how a war will go, now save your breath boy; we got a way to go before we sleep.”
That night they made camp near a swamp, and he covered his head, and arms from the mosquito’s the best he could, and prayed for morning.
The next day they marched through Collierville, and before they came to the little town, he heard canon, and rifle fire in the distance. They halted about a half mile after they passed through the town.
The captain looked at the men, “Men, get plenty of water, and get ready to fight; the Rebs are about a half mile up; they are behind some log berms, and they ain’t wanting to move. We got to make them want to move. Let's go sergeant!”
“You heard the man, suck on them canteens, and let’s move out!”
The sergeant walked up beside Jacob, “You stay close to me boy.”
The men began to walk low as they walked up to a wall of dirt, and logs where soldiers lay behind the fighting berm.
The sergeant led him over to
squat beside one of the uniformed men, “How goes it soldier?”
“We ain’t moved a foot in three days, we have been waiting for re-enforcements. I reckon we will be moving over the top in the morning now.”
“How many do you reckon are over there?”
“I reckon about a hunnert of’em, and them Rebs has got sand sergeant.”
“As they all have I reckon…well, its coming on dark, so at least some of us can get some shuteye.”
As dusk fell the sergeant moved off to check on his men. Jacob sat there in the soft evening, and watched over the log berm. He could see a little movement across the hundred-yard field, but no one seemed inclined to fire their rifle at the shadowy figures.
The soldier lying near him was asleep, but he couldn’t sleep knowing a battle was so near.
About eight that night, a voice suddenly called out across the field, “Hey you yanks, have you got any tobaccy to trade?”
Another voice called from nearer out of the dusk, “I got some Reb; you wanna come get it?” Laughter came from up and down the lines.
“If’en you won’t shoot me; I’ll come to the center of this here field, and bring what I got to trade! Any you yanks got guts?”
There was silence down the line for the space of about