Lost Cause (2 page)

“Where are they heading?” Jack asked a
civilian walking alongside the procession.

“Elisabethtown. The Yanks are on the move
tryin’ to cut off the trade lanes with the Mexicans again.”

Jack watched the procession move out of sight
than drank a mug of coffee and put on his boots and went to find
breakfast. His regiment looked anxious and ate their bacon slowly
and watched the town square for signs of command officers heading
their way. Jack drank another mug of coffee at the mess table and
waited with the other men for something to happen. There was a
feeling of dryness in the air and a bluish haze lay on the hills
which meant the day would be hot later on.

The offensive was a go, Jack heard the
captain say. The southern routes must be protected at all cost.
Jack’s division were to attack at a place up the river on the
western edge of Brownsville, a major route for the transport of
cotton and sugar cane to the Mexican provinces across the Rio
Grande. The regiment would cross the river at Las Rusias and spread
out along the hillside above the town. They were to break through
any lines of resistance and support the Calvary in driving the
Union troops back across the hills.

The fighting was fierce and dirty with the
cannons doing most of the heavy work and the Calvary cleaning up
those stragglers brave enough to stand and fight in the face of
impossible odds. Afterward when Jack went back to his room to wash
off the dust and sweat Campbell was sitting on his bed inspecting a
wound on his left arm. He still wore his over blouse and his knee
boots and his face shone with sweat and black powder.

“How are you Campbell?” Jack inquired

“Splendid.”

“How bad?”

“Just a scratch. You?” Jack shook his
head.

“Never got in range.”

“Heard the Yanks pulled back across the
bluffs.”

“Good.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“No.”

“Wanna get a drink?”

“All right, but wait until I get cleaned up
first.”

Jack washed his hands and face, brushed dust
from his hair and went with Campbell to the social tent. Men were
engaged in checkers and bingo and mugs of home brew beer and sour
mash whiskey. Laughter rang out periodically despite the depression
of the earlier battle. Jimmy Parsons of the regiment had been shot
through with a mini ball and died alone among the black brambles
and lilacs. Three other men received minor wounds and one sergeant
broke a bone when his horse fell and rolled on his leg. All in all
not a bad day of fighting given the circumstances.

The beer was strong and intoxicating.

“Another one?” Campbell asked.

“Not for me.”

“Me neither.”

They gave their empty mugs to a black orderly
and Campbell invited Jack outside for a walk. It was hot walking
through the town but the sun was on its way down and it was very
pleasant on the thoroughfare. They passed the infirmary and the
tent flap was open and Jack and Campbell saw a surgeon working on
the sergeant’s broken leg. A nurse in a drab brown dress and white
apron splashed with blood stood close by assisting.

“Look Saylor,” Campbell said. “a nurse. Could
she be your nurse?” Jack took a long look and said,

“Nope, mine had red hair. And green eyes. And
a longer chin.” Campbell stopped walking and cupped a hand to his
eyes.

“Maybe she could be my nurse.”

“Well, you do have a wound on your wrist.
Trivial though it may be.”

Another nurse appeared and together with the
surgeon and the apron clad nurse pulled on the sergeant’s leg until
his screams echoed off the bluffs across the river. Campbell tugged
up his sleeve and said, “Look, two little birds in the nest. Shall
we?”

They cut through the trees and walked toward
the medical tent Campbell virtually skipping and Jack moving more
moderately.

“How do you do?” Campbell said to the apron
clad nurse. The surgeon was not impressed with the intrusion.

“You have business here?” he asked. Campbell
displayed his bullet scratch and doffed his cap to the nurses.
“Wait over by the flap,” the surgeon said. “Miss Mason, please hold
the splint in place.”

Campbell moved to the front of the tent and
Jack moved into the shadows of the nearby trees and Campbell began
talking to the other nurse asking her if she liked to ride on
trains. They were laughing within seconds and whispering within
minutes and the surgeon was becoming increasingly angry. Finally he
ordered Campbell out of the area and his nurse to a wagon for more
cotton cloth.

“What a tight ass,” Campbell said referring
to the surgeon.”

“That’s a major you’re talking about,”
cautioned Jack.

“Major tight ass maybe. Did you see the way
she looked at me?”

“I saw the way the major looked at you.”

“Her name’s Marie Hayes. She’s from Travis
County. And she loves ridin’ on trains.”

“Do we have to go on talking this way?” asked
Jack.

“No. Look, she’s comin’ this way.”

‘Marie Hayes was quite tall. She wore what
served as a nurse’s uniform overlain with the same type of apron
her fellow nurse wore. She was blonde and had pale smooth skin and
hazel eyes that shone with a subtle curiosity. Jack thought she was
very beautiful as did Campbell and both men applied liberal charm
and smiled so much their lips began to ache. She wore a Saint
Christopher medallion around her neck on a velvet ribbon.

“Nice,” Campbell said. “It matches your
eyes.”

“It belonged to a boy who was killed last
year.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Campbell said.
“Someone you knew?”

“He was going to be my husband. He died
during the first battle of Galveston.”

“It was a bloody affair.”

“Were you there?” she asked.

“No. But my brother was.”

“Where is he now?”

“In a grave somewhere in Tennesse.”

She touched the medallion tenderly. “His
mother sent it to me. They returned it with his personal
effects.”

“Had you known him long?” asked Jack.

“Eighteen years. We grew up together.”

“Why didn’t you marry him before the
war?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I was foolish not
to I suppose. I thought our union would distract him. But it seems
our unconsummated love may have been a greater distraction. Haven’t
you ever loved anyone?”

“No,” Campbell said.

“And you?” she asked Jack.

“No ma’am.”

“So polite. And so handsome.”

“You have beautiful eyes,” Campbell said.

“Do you like them?”

“I do, very much so.”

“And you, shy one?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So why nursing?” Campbell asked.

“I wanted to do something for the Cause. You
see I didn’t care about myself anymore after Charles died. If I
would have married him perhaps he would be alive today. I didn’t
want him to go to war. But he wanted to go and I didn’t know how to
stop him.”

“You could have married him,” Jack
suggested.

“But I didn’t. He was killed and that was the
end of it.”

“What’s the other nurse’s name?” Campbell
asked.

“Charlotte Mason. She hails from Bexar
County.”

“Husband? Beaux? Fiancé?”

“No to all three. Why do you ask?”

“Because young Saylor here is dying to meet
her.”

“Is that true mister Saylor?” Jack was silent
lost in the richness of her magnificent eyes. “She’s very
beautiful, but we both have work to do,” Marie said. As you know
there were casualties today. You have a wound yourself mister, uh.
. .”

“Campbell.”

“Campbell?” That’s Scottish isn’t it?”

“No, it’s Texan. Navarro County actually.”
She smiled and her teeth shimmered in the low light and she tossed
her head in a coquettish manner that made Jack feel warm and
happy.

“You’re a funny man, Mr. Campbell,” she
said.

“Have you been nursing long?” asked Jack.

“Since the beginning of sixty-three. I
started when Charles died. I remember thinking if I could help
someone get better then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty about
Charles. Silly idea though, I’m as self loathing and racked with
self condemnation as ever these days.”

“Was it quick? Charles’ passing?” asked
Jack.

“Thankfully, yes. Canister round I believe
they call them. Blew him all to bits. Nothing left but his boots
and saber and this medallion around my neck.”

“Do you suppose the war will last much
longer?” Campbell asked.

“No.”

“What’s gonna stop it?”

“The Confederacy will break. Just a matter of
time.”

“Perish the thought.”

“You think not?”

“No. We’ve had a good summer.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I am Scottish, you know,” Campbell said.
“Grand daddy came from Aberdeen.”

“And you mister Saylor?”

“A mutt I suppose. Some English, some
Scotch-Irish. . .”

“You look Indian. Any Cherokee in your blood
line?”

“Don’t know.”

“He’s a transplanted Scott same as me,”
Campbell interjected. “What about you Miss Hayes?”

“Cornwall.”

“England?”

“Of course. Where else would it be?”

“I was through Cornwall Mississippi once. You
a Mississippi girl are you Lady Hayes?”

“Never been. I must get back to the
infirmary. Nice talking to you gentlemen.”

“But what about my wound?” whined
Campbell.

“Put some whiskey on it and daub it with
bacon grease. You’ll be spry in no time.”

Then she faded into the night and Campbell
let go a sigh and Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and they
walked away feeling better than they had all day.

Walking back to the barracks Campbell said,
“Miss Hayes prefers you over me.”

“Of course she does,” said Jack.

“You think she likes train rides?”

“I think she’s a lady.”

“So, a lady can’t like train rides?”

“You talk too much Campbell.”

“Yeah. Curse of the Scotts I guess.”

Chapter 4

The next morning Jack went to call on Marie
Hayes. She was not in the infirmary and Jack went to the stables
where the ambulances were housed and asked a livery hand if the
nurses had been by.

“No sir. Probably patchin’ up some troops.
There is s a war on, you know.”

Jack said he knew and the livery hand asked
what he needed a nurse for and Jack suggested the man go about his
business.

The day was hot as usual and Jack was keen on
finding shade before it was time to muster for morning drills. But
he longed to see Marie in the pure morning light and spend some
time watching the sun dance on her golden hair while she told him a
little more about herself.

He walked along the thoroughfare toward the
river hoping to see her on the bank washing soiled bedding. It was
quiet, hot, and so humid the air was like warm taffy on the skin.
He looked across the field of wagons and cannon and rows of
bivouacked muskets and wished he was home with the green fields and
the pecan trees full of birds and fruity nuts and leaves so lush a
man could make a hat of them. This war, this damnable war must see
its end. Man was not created to visit such savagery on his fellow
man. Jack longed for the peace that seemed so elusive. Wouldn’t it
be grand to stroll along the river with Miss Hayes and take in the
sweetness of a summer morning with nothing more threatening than
sunburn to worry about? But it wasn’t safe near the river. The
occasional cannon ball from Union guns still arrived from across
the river with a whistling rush and a sharp bright burst and black
billowing smoke smelling strongly of burnt gunpowder.

Miss Hayes was not to be found that morning
so Jack returned to the barracks and chatted with Campbell until it
was time for his regiment to begin their daily drills.

Later at supper he ate quickly and walked to
the infirmary to visit with Miss Hayes. Charlotte Mason was with
her and not far away Corporal Campbell waited for the surgeon to
treat his festering wound. It was actually a beautiful evening with
few clouds and less humidity although the sun held its strength and
a warm pestering breeze insisted on mussing up Miss Hayes’s golden
locks. She sat on a bench outside the tent cutting strips of cloth
from a bolt of cotton. Miss Mason was sitting with her, but upon
Jack’s arrival she excused herself and went into the tent to assist
the surgeon.

“She seems nice,” Jack said.

“She’s very nice. She has to be, she’s a
nurse.”

“You’re a nurse, aren’t you?”

“Nurse’s aide actually.”

“What’s the difference?”

“About two years of medical training.”

“Oh.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No.”

“We work as hard as the others, but no one
respects us.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t respect us when there’s no
fighting going on. But after a battle when men are wounded they
respect us a great deal.”

“I don’t see the difference.” Jack said.

“There’s a huge difference. A nurse is more
like a doctor. It takes a long time to learn her craft. A nurse’s
aide is limited in the type of care we can render.”

“You don’t have any formal training?”

“Of course I do. Six months in Austin at an
excellent school.”

“So how did you wind up here?”

“General McGruder doesn’t want women near the
front. So we stay back here where it’s safe This was my assignment,
same as you.”

The thud of a distant canon round echoed off
the low hills across the river. “I wish this war would just go
away,” Jack said.

They looked at each other in the golden
twilight and Jack took her hand. “Don’t,” she said softly.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

Jack leaned forward to kiss her and there was
a sharp smack as she slapped his face. Tears materialized in the
corner of his eyes and he touched the tip of his nose where her
hand had made contact.