Two for Home

Chapter 4-3

“You were out late last night, Sharps.” Captain Marriott came by as Sharps was putting out the final campfire.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” He found himself telling the captain about Moll. “She was nice to me, Captain.”

“I’m sure she was paid to be.” Captain Marriott sounded annoyed.

“Sir?”

He shook his head. “Forgive me. It’s not my business.”

“You’re my friend.”

“If I am, I should be pleased you’re now a man about town.”

Did he know some of the men teased him about his lack of experience? “She…she made love to me in the French way.”

“Did she now? And you liked it?”

Sharps couldn’t help grinning. “I did.”

“Well, I…I’m glad to hear that.” Abruptly he changed the subject. “I’m being moved over to the 5th New York Veteran Volunteer Infantry Regiment. A number of our boys are coming over as well, and I’m thinking of forming our own company.”

“You are? I reckon I’ll be going with you.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

Sharps shrugged. “The war isn’t over yet.”

Captain Marriott frowned. “I should tell you to leave if you have the opportunity.”

“I’d rather go with you.” He grinned.

“All right, then. Pack your haversack, get your drum, and meet me here.”

Sharps felt like kicking up his heels. He didn’t, of course, just stood for a moment, watching the captain as he strode away.

“Corporal Browne?”

“Yes?” Still smiling, Sharps turned toward the voice. “Yes, sir.” He snapped to attention as a colonel, the general’s aide-de-camp, approached him.

“The general requests your presence at company headquarters.”

Sharps recognized an order when he heard one, and he followed the aide-de-camp to the house the general had requisitioned.

The colonel opened the door, nodded for Sharps to enter, then followed him and went to stand at the general’s right hand.

The general was busy writing something in a journal, and Sharps stood at attention and waited until he finished and glanced up at him. Then he saluted.

“Thank you for coming, Corporal,” the general said, giving an offhand salute in response.

Of course Sharps would. He continued to stand at attention.

“At ease. I understand you’ve mustered out of the 14th Brooklyn.”

“Yes, sir. Captain Marriott is going to request I be moved over to the 5th New York Veterans.”

“Hmm.” The general stroked his mustache. “I have a job for you. You can refuse it if you so choose, and since I and Colonel Sebring will be the only ones aware of this, no one will think poorly of you.”

But the general would, Sharps was certain of it.

“I’m your man, General. What do you want me to do, sir?”

“I need a young man such as yourself to infiltrate behind enemy lines and see what you can learn.”

“Sir?”

“Colonel Sebring has detected a slight accent when you speak.”

“Yes, sir. My pa’s family is from Texas, although they originally came from Georgia.” Sharps had never thought he had an accent, but if he did, he must have picked it up from Pa.

“Cultivate that accent so you can pass for a Confederate. I need to know the number of men fighting and how healthy they are, supplies, equipment, how the civilian population is coping.”

Sharps nodded. “If I can help end the war quicker, then I’m happy to do my part, sir.”

“Good man. When this war is finally over, you’ll receive a commendation from President Lincoln.” He shook Sharps’s hand. “Colonel Sebring, would you mind filling in Sergeant Browne?”

“General? I’m a corporal.”

“You were. Now you’re a sergeant. I’m giving you a field promotion.”

Sharps was flummoxed and for a moment unable to say anything. A sergeant. Given his age and the fact he was just a drummer boy, he’d never thought to achieve a rank higher than corporal. He swallowed. “Th-thank you, sir. I’ll do my best for you, I promise.”

“I’m sure you will. You’ve got family back home?”

“Yes, sir. My pa.”

The general nodded. “I want you to write him a letter and tell him Colonel Sebring has offered you a job on his farm. We don’t want him worrying about you.”

“No, sir.”

“Colonel, you’ll see to it?”

“Of course, General.”

“All right, then. Godspeed, young Sharps.”

Sharps saluted and followed the colonel to another room.

“Sit at that desk and write your letter. You can write, can’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Sharps wasn’t insulted. Lots of men couldn’t write. “Excuse me, sir. Captain Marriott also has his marching orders. He thinks I’m going with him. May I say goodbye to him?”

The colonel gave him a thoughtful look. “Very well. Finish your letter first. And remember, this assignment is secret.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t say a word about it.” That meant he’d have to lie to the captain. But the general had as good as ordered him to. He scribbled a hasty note to Pa, sealed it in the envelope the colonel handed him, and wrote Pa’s name and direction on it. “I’ll be right back.”

“See that you are.” Colonel Sebring took the letter. “I’ll send this out immediately.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sharps saluted and hurried to the campground where the captain was saddling his mount. “Captain Marriott?”

“There you are, Sharps. I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

“I…uh…” He worried his lower lip. “I have. I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“Good-? I thought—”

“Oh, yes, but—” Sharps felt his cheeks heat. He hated lying to the captain.

“Ah. You have changed your mind and are taking advantage of this opportunity to go home, are you? Well, you did enlist in ‘61, and we’ve seen some brutal fighting. I can’t say I blame you for having had enough. War is hell,” he said softly. “I’m sorry we won’t be together, but I’m glad you’ll be safely away from this fighting.” The captain sounded relieved, which made Sharps feel better. “The war will be ending, and the Rebs will fight all the harder.”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured distractedly. He wished he could tell the captain the truth. He didn’t want the cap thinking he was a quitter. “Thank you, Captain. For the derringer.” He leaned close enough to whisper, “For keeping those men away from me that time.” He took the derringer out of his pocket and offered it to its rightful owner.

“No, Sharps, you keep it.” He closed his fingers on Sharps’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

“Thank you, sir.” He smiled up at him, enjoying that touch.

“You’re welcome. I hope to see you again.”

“Me, too. I’ll…I’ll be in Brooklyn, if you ever want to look me up after the war, Steve.” For the first time, Sharps used the captain’s given name. “Please…please stay alive.”

The captain smiled at him and ran the backs of his fingers over Sharps’s cheek. “I promise.”

Sharps liked the feel of those fingers, and for a second he leaned into the captain’s touch and wanted to stay with him.

But he couldn’t. He had promised the general.

Sharps had turned fourteen the month before, and he couldn’t…wouldn’t…weep. He stepped back, snapped to attention, and saluted. He did a sharp about face and walked away, feeling as if he were leaving a huge part of his heart with the captain.

He put his belongings in his haversack and his kitbag, gave his drum to a new drummer boy, and hurried back to headquarters.