Chapter One
Late Fall 1861
Allegheny Mountains
Charlotte “Charlie” Garrett, crouching uncomfortably
behind a boulder, swallowed the lump of fear in her throat,
adjusted the position of her beloved army-issued Springfield,
and waited. All snipers had been ordered to come before the
main body of the regiment and pick off any Yankees they could.
The moment of truth had arrived. Since disguising herself as a
young man to join the Twenty-Fifth Virginia Infantry,
following her husband Joshua into war, Charlotte had never
shot a man. She was now a sharpshooter for the regiment,
having been ordered into this maligned group of men due to her
ability with the weapon she clutched tightly in her hands.
From where she was hidden she could see Clarence, the
older man who had taken her under his wing, and a few of the
other soldiers selected for this job. He was lying on the
ground behind a huge log, and two of the younger snipers were
up in the gnarled oak trees that overlooked the ground below.
The others were invisible through the falling snow.
The weather had gotten progressively worse up in the
mountains, and the soldiers had been growing more and more
discontent. The Confederates held this part of the Allegheny
Mountains and were to defend Staunton-Reidsburg Pike from
Union forces who hoped to take the summit from them.
The idea that the officers were counting on her and the
rest of the sharpshooters to draw the enemy out from behind
their artillery made her stomach feel as though it were full
of nervous butterflies.
Taking off her spectacles, she looked down at the
valley while she polished the smudged glass ovals on her
shirt. No Bluecoats were visible at the moment. Charlie’s
stomach twitched. Where are the damn Yankees? Smoke belched
out of the slightly raised tree line, and a loud boom echoed
across the ground.
All of the time spent drilling and marching had not
prepared her for the mind-numbing terror beginning to claw its
way up her spine. Today something was going to change…her life
was going to change…history was going to change. Two armies
were going to clash, and people were going to die just like
they had already died in the time since Fort Sumter and Bull
Run.
Oh, God! She was starting to tremble at the very idea that she
was here doing this! She wished she had not joined the
snipers. It came as a surprise when she found out most of the
other foot soldiers didn’t like them. Jeers of “sneak” and
“murderer” were sometimes directed toward her group. The
soldiers who fought out in plain sight didn’t appreciate the
skill of those who perched in trees or behind rocks to pick
off their unsuspecting targets. Many considered the
sharpshooters to be coddled or even cowardly when they were
allowed to shoot behind cover while the others marched
headlong into battle.
It would have been so much easier to stay with her
husband. If she were beside him, with his comforting presence
to draw strength from, she was sure her heart would not be
pounding as hard as it was. Joshua seemed to have gotten over
the rage she had seen him display on the practice field when
he recognized her, despite the baggy uniform, dirty slouch
hat, short hair, and glasses.
* * *
All during training camp in Virginia, Charlie had managed to
avoid direct contact with Josh. They were in the same company
and, with Josh’s natural ability to cultivate new friends, she
knew it would only be a matter of time before he made the
rounds of the entire regiment and knew each one of them by
name.
She had carefully studied the actions and habits of the men
around her and had gotten very adept at burping, spitting, and
scratching when the time seemed right. By acting like a man,
dressing like a man, and keeping her hat pulled low, Charlie
had managed to avoid detection. Even Clarence, who kept a
close eye on his “adopted” son, had not picked up on her
gender. Fortunately, he respected her need for privacy
whenever she could get it.
Then one day it happened. Charlie lined up with the
rest of the troops on the practice field as usual. Standing
beside Clarence at attention, she waited for the officers to
give orders. She remembered looking around and searching for
Josh, as usual. Her husband was the whole reason she was here
after all. She just couldn’t bear to be so far away from him.
All she needed to get through the day was to see his handsome
face, but she had to make sure he didn’t see her. He was
somewhere in the ranks of soldiers that had gathered on the
muddy field.
“At ease, men,” Captain Weaver had yelled. Then he'd
moved closer to the rank and file. “Tomorrow we march to our
destiny, gentlemen. We must rise above the oppression of the
Federal government and, with your help, we will persevere
against the Northern aggressors.”
A chorus of whoops and catcalls had erupted all around
and swelled to a thunderous noise.
“Hear that, lad?" Clarence had clapped her on the back
hard, almost knocking her over. "We’re gonna whip them
Yankees. We are gonna whip ‘em and send them running with
their tails ‘tween their legs.” He had grinned at her from
under his grizzled, scraggly beard.
“We sure are, Clarence, we sure are!”
Suddenly, the trumpet had blown, and they had all settled down
and stiffened to attention again.
Captain Weaver had been trying to speak once more.
“Everyone has done a bang-up job these past weeks. Some of you
have never handled a rifle before, while others have obviously
been hunting many times and know exactly how to handle a gun.
One such young man has proven himself to be a very good shot.
He will be part of the sharpshooters in our regiment. Charlie
Garrett, please step forward!”
With no choice, Charlie had come forward then turned
and, with a start of surprise, she had found herself locking
eyes with Josh in the crowd. That was the heart-stopping
moment when she knew her husband had seen her, really looked
closely at her.
The thunderous cloud appearing on Josh’s face the moment he
realized the real identity of “Charlie” Garrett had been
obvious to her, even yards away from him. She
had watched him reach for his powder charges and prepare to
load his rifle. Terror had swept through her. He'd glared
angrily at the soldiers all around him The other Augusta
County boys had seen Josh’s strange reaction, encircled him
immediately, and Billy Kaufman, the largest man in the
regiment, had taken Josh’s gun away with one massive hand,
then pinned Josh’s arms to his sides. As soon as she had the
opportunity, Charlie had escaped the practice field. She just
hadn’t been able to face him.
Joshua had not come anywhere near Charlie when the
regiment marched into the Allegheny Mountains, which was fine
with her. She had really needed the time to think.
Then, just this very morning, Josh had just walked up to the
cook fire, introduced himself as her cousin, and they walked
off to talk.
“You need to go tell Captain Weaver you’re my wife and that
you joined up without my permission or knowledge. I’ll give
you my wages, and you can buy passage home,” Josh had said as
soon as they were out of the other soldiers’ earshot.
Startled by his blunt command, she’d nearly tripped over an
exposed root. He had not considered for a moment what she
wanted or even why she was here. Fighting tears she had
quickened the pace, leading him down a ravine to a spot where
they might have a little privacy.
“Stop, Charlie.” Josh’s hand had landed on her shoulder gently
but firmly. “You heard what I said, but I will not be the one
telling the Captain anything. You will.”
“Oh, no, I won’t.” Facing him squarely, she had raised
her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. Clenching her
jaw, she'd given him her best stubborn glare. Only he hadn't
blustered and blown as usual. He hadn’t even huffed. Not once.
The sad expression on his face had been thoroughly confusing
to Charlie. It was so unlike her husband to react this way.
His hand had come up toward her face, and she had flinched
involuntarily. Josh’s woeful expression had deepened.
“Charlie, oh my darling, is this what you think of me now?”
He'd dropped his hand. “Do you think I would raise my hand in
anger to the woman I love? Though it seems plain you no longer
love me.”
“What? Why do you say that, Josh? I joined this army
because I love you. It is the only reason I am here.”
“If you love me, why are you sleeping with all of these men?”
“Josh! No one has touched me! They think I am a man, like they
are!” “If it weren’t for big Billy, I would have shot
them all! What about your parents? Where do they think you
are?”
He had moved closer then. Slowly his big hand had come
up and gently removed her hat and glasses. “There now, you
look more like yourself.” His fingers played with the short,
dark curls. “I miss your long hair.”
“It will grow back,” she had informed him tersely. “I told my
family I was going to visit Aunt Betty in South Carolina. I
told them I couldn’t bear to stay at the farm without you…and
it was true. I couldn’t, Josh.” She had needed to pray for
control and the right words. “You have to understand…I like it
here…where I know you are close. I like the army. It’s like
camping out. I always enjoyed the hunting trips we went on
with my brothers.”
He had frowned even more sternly, if that was possible. “You
liked hunting? Why did you refuse to kill the doe on the last
trip we made?”
Fiddling nervously with a button on her uniform, she had
watched Josh lower his long-limbed body to a moss-covered log.
“That was different—uhh!” Josh had yanked her down onto his
lap. “—That was different. It was a beautiful animal with two
young ones. They were so darling. I just couldn’t kill their
mother.”
Josh hadn't looked at her face. He had kept his eyes down in
the vicinity of her chest. “Honey…those Yankees may not be
beautiful, but chances are good that some of them will be
daddies to young ones, too.” He'd raised his face then, so
handsome and so familiar, and had looked at her somberly. “Are
you prepared to shoot somebody’s daddy, somebody’s husband, or
somebody’s child?”
* * *
His words
came back to her now as she looked down on the scene below and
waited for a glimpse of blue. She put on her glasses and wiped
her perspiring hands on her gray woolen pants. Was she
prepared? Could she shoot somebody’s husband?
“Clarence,” she called softly.
He didn’t turn around. He too was busy scanning the ground
below. The spyglass glinted in the sunlight. Would the Yankees
see the reflection off the glass? Her heart jumped into her
throat, choking her and increasing the trembling of her hands.
How could she shoot now?
“C-Clarence?”
The grizzled face swung around to face her. “Charlie? You
okay, boy?”
She motioned with her hand and, after a quick look around,
Clarence came in a crouching run to join her.
“Whatsa matter? You got a case of the jitters?” he asked
amiably. Then he glanced down at her hands and up again at her
face. “Yah sure are jumpy, Charlie. Yah gotsta calm down and
keep your mind on one thing at a time. Jus’ remember what I
taught you. Tear open the cartridge, git the powder down the
barrel, put the bullet in—don’t forget that part,” he gave a
short chuckle, “then ramrod it down, put the cap on the nib
under the hammer, and ya’ll is ready to go again.”
“Sure, I remember it all,” Charlie retorted
indignantly. “I’m not stupid, you know, just scared.”
Clarence chuckled again. Reaching down at his side with steady
hands, he offered his canteen. She looked at it, puzzled. “I
have my own water, Clarence, I don’t need to drink yours.”
“Mine is special. Have a drink, boy,” he insisted, thrusting
it at her.
“Okay.” She took the canteen and tilted it up for a
large mouthful. “Gak!” She choked and finally swallowed the
stuff that burned all the way down. Tears sprang to her eyes,
and she pulled out a blue bandana to wipe under her glasses.
Clarence laughed softly again. “Ain’t you never had no strong
drink befo’? A little shot of courage, that’s all.
My grandma set a great store by her own shots of courage. Said
they were the reason she lived so long…my grandma was
ninety-seven when she passed on.”
A shot rang out. They threw themselves into position. The
other snipers were taking shots at a group of Bluecoats
picking their way through between the rocks and scattered
trees. A cry echoed up the mountain, and Charlie saw one man
fall, holding his hands up to his neck as a stream of red
appeared, visible even from this distance.
Clarence sighted down the high-powered scope of his
special-issue Whitworth rifle and easily picked off another
soldier from a distance of almost four hundred yards. He
turned away to reload with a precious .45 caliber bullet then
took down another man before Charlie could squeeze the trigger
of her ordinary rifle once. The Yankees were running back in
the direction they had come. One man was lagging behind the
rest, having a more difficult time maneuvering the natural
landscape. He would be so easy to shoot. The snipers continued
to fire all around her. She took a bead on the clumsy soldier.
“Shoot, Charlie! Every man you take could save the life of one
of ours.”
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pulled the
trigger. Opening her eyes again, she saw the man fall to the
ground. She’d killed a man! No…wait…the man sprang up and
began running again. He had only tripped and fallen.
“Come on, boys!” Clarence called to the sharpshooters. “Stay
sharp now. The real fighting is about to start. The snow is
lettin’ up!”
Sure enough, no sooner had the words left his mouth than the
now-familiar Rebel yell sent goosebumps skittering along
Charlie’s arms. With an explosion of noise, the army in gray
erupted from somewhere below them. Hoards of men came
screaming out into the open—some falling over their own feet
in their haste and others nimbly leaping over the obstacles in
their path. The Confederate flag, like a beacon of light, drew
them toward their enemy in a stream of humanity.
“Here they come!” Clarence shouted. “Pick off as many Yankees
as you can before they reach our men!”
As if they were magically summoned, the tide of blue flowed
out of the trees heading directly for a clash with their boys.
Spurts of gunfire now accompanied the war cries of the Rebels
and the screams of men being hit.
Charlie hurried to reload, tasting the powder as she ripped
open the cartridge to put it down the barrel. No time to
waste. Josh is down there! Don’t think. Just aim and fire. She
listened to the voice in her head directing her to pick out a
Bluecoat through the pall of smoke, pull the trigger, reload,
pick another one, fire, and load again. There was no time to
watch them fall, no time to see how she had put a bloody hole
in a living, breathing human being. A strange kind of trance
fell over her, and her actions became mechanical, repetitious,
and unthinking. Over and over she hit her mark.
But
gradually, confusion began to mount, and her anxiety grew. It
was getting harder and harder to sight her targets. She could
no longer see the Bluecoats clearly! Pulling off her glasses,
she flung them aside and continued to peer down the gun
barrel. Nothing! A quick
rub of her eyes…still nothing. What was the problem?
“Charlie! Charlie!” Clarence was tugging at her arm. “We have
to go down! The smoke is too thick to see from here anymore!”
Grabbing up her wire rims again, she followed the angular
figure of her mentor as they made their way down to join the
fighting below.
Sliding down the steep incline with rocks rolling under her
brogans, Charlie strained to see what was happening. The noise
was horrendous. The high-pitched whine of bullets, the lower
booming of the cannon fire, and the screams of injured and
dying men filled her ears, blocking out sensible thought.
Everywhere, soldiers were running, stumbling, and crawling in
the opposite direction.
A bugle’s faltering tones rang out, sounding the
retreat. “Back! Go back!” An officer on horseback gestured to
their group. “Retreat! No use, boys. There are too many of
them!” The captain had lost his hat, and blood ran from a rent
in his sleeve. The distinctive whine of a cannon ball grew
louder, and Charlie dove for the ground. It hit behind the
horseman. He was gone in a shower of dirt and debris that
exploded up then came down on her head.
Quickly scrambling to her feet again, fear gripped her
with a horrible force, and she forgot to follow Clarence. She
had to find Josh! Where was he? Charlie began to run.
“Charlie, come back! We have to retreat!”
Clarence was calling after her but she paid him no mind. The
smoke lay in a thick blanket over the valley. Soldiers
appeared out of the fog, stumbling and staggering past her.
Searching and searching, she ran, tripping and jumping over
obstacles. Some of them appeared to be human. Bile rose in her
throat as she peered with dread at each torn and bloody man
who lay on the battleground or crawled past. Some plucked at
her sleeve and pleaded for help, while others were beyond
helping. There was no time to spare for any man, no matter
their rank or need.
.
