Lost Cause (15 page)

“I’ll have to verify it,” Colonel Ford said.
“Until then, we hold this position.”

The major surgeon was predictably concerned
at the prospect of a hasty retreat. “If it becomes necessary, how
are the wounded to be evacuated?” he asked the colonel.

“They’re not. We take as many as you think
you can save and leave the rest.”

“That will be a hard thing to do,
colonel.”

“It’s all hard, major. It’s all so damn
bloody hard.”

Chapter 25

A message came from General McGruder the next
evening and the retreat started immediately. Colonel Ford’s men
withdrew from across the river and split in half, one group
remaining by the bridge to fend off any advancing Union troops and
the Calvary riding ahead to scout the road to Laredo. Jack and
Campbell helped load the men with survivable wounds into the
ambulances and then took down the mess tent saving the flour and
corn meal and bacon and then they emptied out the infirmary and
loaded medical supplies into supply wagons. They worked tirelessly
in the rain clearing out the extra ammunition from the armory and
filling the field artillery barrels with crushed rock and red mud.
It rained steadily without a break and the rain fell into the river
and the water rose until the bridge began to take on water.

“Good!” Colonel Ford shouted above the
keening wind. “Let’s see those bastards cross over now!”

An hour later the camp was nearly emptied out
and some of the town people began to stir about saying they wanted
to evacuate too rather than face the Union forces. As Jack and
Campbell headed across the square to join up with Colonel Ford’s
men they saw a stout Mexican woman loading the girls from Lupe’s
cantina into a mule-drawn wagon. There were six girls in all and
they were wearing much more clothing than Jack had ever seen them
wear. Two of the younger ones were crying and one of the more
devilish girls smiled at Campbell and cupped her hand in a crude
gesture indicating she wanted either money or a scrotum to squeeze.
She had full red lips and black eyes and black hair and brown skin
the same shade as saddle leather. Jack stopped long enough to ask
Lupe where the girls were going and she said, “Matamoros, or maybe
Tampico. When the fighting stops, maybe we will come back. Adios,
puta.” Then she climbed into the wagon and laid the reins to the
bedraggled mule and drove away heading south along the soggy river
bottom.

Jack and Campbell went on their way and
Campbell said, “Too bad we’re not going their way. That would be an
interesting trip.”

“We’ll have a better trip going the other
way,” Jack said.

“Maybe, but it won’t be nearly as much
fun.”

“I’d like to be there when some of those blue
ass Yankees try to mount one of those lovelies,” Jack said.

“You think they’ll take their trade?”

“Sure. As long as they have money to
spend.”

“Damn, I’d like to have one more crack at
that wide lipped gal. She has special talents.”

“Appeared to me she was wanting her money,”
Jack said. “Lucky for you she’s going in the other direction.
Otherwise you may very well be singing falsetto.”

The town and the camp were now empty except
for the men left behind in the infirmary and a few old granjeros
who refused to leave their property behind. Jack feared the Union
troops would brutalize the locals who remained in town because of
their support for the Confederates, even though most of the
residents had mostly ignored the southern troops except when they
were taking their money for goods or services rendered.

The leaving was orderly enough, though wet
and slow. As the makeshift caravan traveled along the water logged
road heading northwest, Jack looked back toward the infirmary and
said a silent prayer for the men too close to death to be moved.
The priest had remained behind as well offering comfort and
absolution to the dying men. They had left a horse for him in hopes
that he could make his escape before the Union forces overtook the
town.

That night, well after midnight, they stopped
to set up a hurried camp to treat and feed the wounded men. Jack
found Charlotte Mason on her knees behind a wagon crying into hands
still bloody with the blood of dying men. “Nurse Mason?” he said
gently. She was startled and embarrassed and she quickly put on a
smile that looked as defeated as she no doubt felt.

“Corporal Saylor? Didn’t see you there.”

“How are you ma’am?”

“Tired. Worn out. Sick of the butchery.”

“Are you going to be alright during the
withdrawal?”

“I have no other choice,” she said. “There
are nine gravely wounded men in those wagons and fourteen more with
wounds requiring surgery. We can’t just let them die, or rot.”

“No, I suppose we can’t.”

“Thank you for helping with the medical
equipment,” she said. “We’re going to need every bit of that cotton
cloth and all the laudanum as well.”

We going to need a lot more than that, Jack
thought as he walked away to join Campbell who was standing rear
guard.

“Wish we could make a fire to dry our
clothes,” Campbell said rubbing his hands together.

“I don’t care about dry clothes, but I could
use a good meal,” Jack said.

“And sleep. Don’t forget sleep.”

“I fear it will be a good long time before we
get any decent sleep,” Jack said.

“Any I can get will be decent enough.”

A mess attendant came by and told the men
that there would be some mush and coffee ready directly. They
waited until they were relieved then walked across the road to
where a fire burned in an old ammo crate and a kettle of coffee
simmered on a bed of coals. The trees at the edge of the road were
dripping rain and it was turning cooler in the valley. Campbell and
Jack sat around the sputtering fire drinking chickory coffee while
the surgeons treated the wounded and the livery hands fed the
horses and mules and the soldiers stood as sentries watching the
road for any sign of the enemy.

“I think I’d like a retreat better if the sun
was shinning,” Campbell said after a while.

“A retreat is no good regardless the
weather,” Jack said. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I’ve had plenty. Now I wish I had a bottle
of whiskey. And a thick lipped senorita.”

“We’re on a retreat, Carl,” Jack said. “We’re
running like rabbits from the yanks and all you can talk about is
whiskey and whores.”

“Better than thinking about all those shot up
boys over there in the wagons.”

“I agree. But we have to keep focused. Those
blue bellies want to shred us like old newspaper.” Campbell yawned
and threw away his coffee.

“I need some sleep.”

Jack said, “Tomorrow, we’ll sleep tomorrow
when we’ve put some distance between us and that swollen
river.”

“Where do you think we will retreat to?”

“Colonel says Laredo.”

“Laredo? Hope they have a cantina. Or a nurse
who likes train rides.”

Chapter 26

They were on the move again as soon as the
sun kissed the eastern skyline. It had stopped raining but dark
brooding clouds hung on the eastern horizon and all along the
southern border of the river now many miles behind them. Colonel
Ford’s forward scouts had rejoined the caravan and the columns of
troops and wagons and extra horses and mules stretched out along
the road for at least a quarter of a mile. They moved slowly but
steadily through the thick mud, stopping only briefly to clean the
horse’s hooves and clear mud from the wagon spokes. The column
stopped as one and everyone lent a hand going from horse to horse
and under the wet necks of the mules and between the axles of the
ambulances and supply wagons. Orderlies from the medical corps
carried full chamber pots and emptied them in the flooded ditches
along the side of the road. There wasn’t time to brew coffee so the
soldiers chewed on wedges of hardtack and drank water from their
canteens.

Colonel Ford ordered his men to rotate as
forward patrol and Jack and Corporal Campbell took their turn
around mid morning. It began raining again as soon as they were out
of sight of the caravan and visibility waned until the view ahead
was nothing but a gray-white wall of mist. They rounded a bend in
the road and Jack saw a covered wagon rolling down the road toward
them. An old man driving a team of spotted ponies pulled rein as he
approached Jack and Campbell. “How do,” he said. He had white hair
and a white beard and he wore a white hat and a white coat and
white trousers and black boots with white tassels. Three Indians
girls sat on a bench seat behind him each dressed in buckskin and
colorful cotton. “Where you soldier boys headin’?” the man asked
with a pronounced draw.

“Laredo,” Jack said. “The Yankees are
occupying Brownsville and we’re headed to neutral ground.”

“Hell, Laredo ain’t neutral,” the man said.
“Why it’s crawlin’ with rebel boys just like ya’ll.” He saw
Campbell eyeing the Indian girls. “They’s Kickapoos,” he said with
a toothy grin. “Sisters they are and as virgin as Mary herself.” He
put his hand on one of the girl’s thigh and gave a squeeze and the
girl stiffened and pushed away the hand. “Hey!” the man said.
“relax some, will you!” The girl looked at him with eyes as sharp
as a knife blade. The other girls kept their eyes cast downward and
pressed their folded hands to their laps.

“What are you doing with those gals, old
timer?” Campbell asked.

“Bought ‘em. Twenty dollars a piece. Damn
son, what happened to your face?”

One of the other girls looked at Jack and
said something in a strange dialect he couldn’t understand. She was
thin and dark and looked to be about fourteen. The sister seated
beside her never moved an eyelash. She looked perhaps a year
younger and was as thin and sunburned as her two siblings.

“So, how does a fellow buy an Indian?”
Campbell asked.

“The same way you buy a nigger, you bid on
‘em,” the old man said.

“Well, what are you going to do with them?”
asked Jack. The old man turned in the seat and pointed to the
eldest of the sisters.

“That one right there is gonna be my cook,
that one in the middle is gonna keep my cabin clean as a whistle
and that little one there is gonna keep my feet warm on cold
nights.”

Campbell looked at Jack and Jack looked at
the old man and the girls looked at each other and Jack drew his
pistol and pulled back the hammer. “You’re not going another foot
with those girls in your wagon,” he said firmly.

“Now hold on here, these squaws is my
personal property!” the old man bellowed.

“Let us see a receipt,” Campbell said. He’d
produced his own pistol and had moved a little closer to Jack. The
man made a show of patting his pockets then put on an obviously
contrived frown.

“Hell, I must have lost it in all this rain,”
he said his face beginning to pale beneath his hat.

“That’s too bad for you,” Jack said. “If you
can’t prove you paid for those girls, which isn’t legal by the way,
then you’re going to have to turn them over to Corporal Campbell
and me.”

“What are going to do with them?”

“Well, I can say this much, they won’t be
doing any cooking, cleaning, or foot warming for starts. Unless
they want to, that is. In the mean time, I will turn them over to
my Colonel for his disposition.”

“What about my money?”

“Chalk the loss up to greed and stupidity,”
Campbell said coldly.

Jack held his pistol on the man while
Campbell attempted to coax the girls from the wagon. They recoiled
in terror and Campbell tried to soothe them with soft words and the
girls clung to each other as if they were drowning.

“Here Carl, take my Colt,” Jack said. “You’re
so damn scared up and frightful those girls think you’re some kind
of booger or something.”

Jack handed the pistol to Campbell and
stepped up on the wagon boot. Using a series of hand gestures he
was able to convince the girls that they would be better served to
abandon the wagon and go with him. They climbed down and covered
themselves with shawls of quilted cotton to protect their bare
heads from the rain. Jack turned to the man and said, “Turn this
wagon around and go back where you came from. There isn’t anything
in Brownsville for you.” The man stared at Jack then glanced down
at the wagon seat. “If there’s a firearm under there you’d best
leave it be,” Jack said. “Ole’ Carl here’s a fairly decent shot,
even in the rain.”

The man hesitated a moment then flicked the
horses with the reins and tuned the wagon northward. Jack watched
him disappear into the thickening mist before turning to face the
shivering girls. “Don’t worry,” he said to the oldest sister. “he
won’t bother you again.” He could see she didn’t understand a word
he said. Her dark eyes regarded him with suspicion and she pulled
the shawl tight around her shoulders.

“What are we going to do now?” Campbell
asked.

“Why don’t you stay here and make sure that
old knacker doesn’t come back this way,” Jack said. “I’ll escort
these girls back to the regiment and turn them over to the
colonel.”

“What if he does come back?”

“Shoot him.”

It took some work but Jack finally managed to
make the girls understand that they should follow him. They walked
through the fog and the rain with Jack leading the way and the
girls staying well back tiptoeing through the mud on moccasin clad
feet.

Colonel Ford was not happy when Jack finally
showed up with the Indian girls. “What am I supposed to do with
them?” he asked. The colonel was a rather tall man with whiskers
and a prominent limp which he acquired when a mini ball pierced his
calf a year earlier.

“I can use them helping with the wounded,”
the surgeon major suggested.

“They don’t speak a word of English,” Jack
said.