Civil Wrath

CIVIL WRATH

John Merenda

.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 John Merenda

License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Easy Money

Captain Bentley Mason finally arrived at Fort Collins in Northern Colorado. His orders were to escort a Union payroll from Collins to Fort Winston in Arizona, a two hundred mile journey through dangerous and hostile territory. However this man was not the good Captain. This man was Benson Krowley, a war criminal, thief and murderer. He and his brother Willard were the leaders of a ruthless rebel unit known as the Krowley Kin and Klan.

Five days earlier Willard had captured the real Captain Mason, while he was in route to Fort Collins. Benson, with the mob cheering him on of course, cut just one side of the Captain’s throat, then watched and laughed as the Captain slowly bled to death. When Willard realized what the Captain’s orders were he conceived a diabolical plan to add another bloody massacre to his resume.

The Krowleys consisted of young and old low-life confederate thieves; mad men and lunatics, but most were racist murderers; and a few idiots, of which sixteen were Kin to the Krowley brothers in one way or another. Led by Willard’s ruthless mind, these rebellious men had plundered, robbed and murdered a countless number of migrating blacks and immigrants, making sure that the young women receive a treat before they kill them. The Krowley motto was; No Witness No Crime.

Ambush was Willard’s favorite way of attacking, especially if the victims were armed. The ambushes were over quick and he’d never lost a man.

Benson was the younger of the two brothers. He was in his early forties, with a broad build, not fat, just thick. His hair was thinning and he had a scar that began at his forehead, coming down over his left eye, causing the eye to stay half shut, it then continued down his left cheek and ended under his chin.

.

Whenever he was asked about it, he’d reply, A Grizzly did it, yup, she had my head in her mouth before I knew it, but Willard got her, he got her good, with one shot right between her big brown eyes. And then he’d add, We cut her up into thick three inch steaks, fried her in her own fat, then we served her up with black eyed peas and collard greens and man, oh man, I got to tell you, she was delicious. Most listeners didn’t believe a word he said, but it was all true, even the big brown eyes and the black eyed peas.

Benson approached the fort and looked at the guards above the main gate. Seeing a rider approaching them they lifted their rifles and aimed them at him. Benson gulped in some air and held his breath. He thought, something went wrong, then he heard one of the guards call out, Open the gate, it’s the Captain from Fort Winston. Open the gate, the Colonel’s waiting for him. Benson began to breathe again when things sounded like they were okay.

Willard’s plan was brilliant. Benson would go into Fort Collins dressed as Captain Mason. He’d present the Captain’s orders and ride out with the payroll. Willard didn’t care how much money there was, although it turned out to be a significant factor, what mattered most to him, was what he and the boys believed in, and that was taking what they wanted and killing Union men and Negroes, whenever they could. Willard was thrilled when he got the opportunity to rob and kill either of them, but his biggest rush was when the victims were Negroes wearing a Blue uniform.

Benson walked his horse in the yard, he looked at the guards closing the gate and so far things looked good. But he was still concerned that somebody might know Captain Mason or worse they might know him. He looked for the Command Office, saw it and walked his horse over to the building.

He checked around, things still looked good, in fact, they looked real good. He smiled, dismounted, walked up the steps and entered.

Private Ernest Smith was at the desk facing the door, he looked up and seeing a Captain he stood and saluted. Benson returned his salute and peeked over Smith’s shoulder to get a look at the Colonel sitting in the back of the room. Colonel James E. Winters looked up from his paperwork, saw Benson, stood up and smiled.

Captain Mason, I believe, I’m glad you made it Captain. Colonel Winters was the fort’s Commander. He’s a heavy-set man in his late fifty’s he’d been transferred to Collins from his post in New York. His duties at Collins were to establish a payroll system for men mustering out and for the forts in the lower Mid-Western states. Benson snapped to attention, saluted and announced himself, Captain Mason, reporting Sir.

The Colonel returned Benson’s salute, tucked the front of his shirt into his pants and said, Good to see you Captain, I hope you didn’t run into any trouble on the way up here. He said as he put his hand out to shake, Benson reached his sweaty palm out, grabbed the Colonel’s hand and replied,

No Sir, none at all.

The Colonel’s face seemed to take on a sigh of relief. Good, yes, that’s very good. he said as he sat down on the top of his desk. Benson was sure the Colonel would ask how he had gotten his scar, but the scar was not even in the Colonel’s mind. Did you mark a different return route? The Colonel asked.

Yes Sir. Benson assured him as he swatted a large green fly that had followed him in and was now roaming around near his ear. And I made sure that it would be safe for the return trip, Colonel.

The Colonel smiled. Good, now, let me ask you something Captain and this may come as a surprise to you. Benson nodded and slowly slid his hand down to his revolver as the Colonel asked, How soon can you head back?

Benson smiled, moved his hand up and away and answered Well, Colonel, I’d like to head back right now, if that’s okay with you? I mean, there are a lot of men depending on me making a quick return.

That was the truth the whole truth and everything, but, the truth. There were a lot of men waiting for Benson to return, but not one of them was wearing a Union blue uniform.

Colonel Winters smiled, That’s fine Captain, just fine. In fact, I’d like you to head back as soon as I check your orders, he said, and then he held out his hand.

Benson couldn’t remember where he put the orders or if he remembered to take them. He patted his pants and jacket pockets and then he remembered. Oh, yeah, he smiled and reached inside Captain Mason’s jacket. I got them Sir, they’re right here Sir. He removed the leather wrapped orders and handed them to Colonel Winters.

Colonel Winters read as he walked around the room. He stopped and looked at Benson and stated Well Captain, it looks like everything’s in order.

Yes, Sir, Benson replied, as a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek and clung onto that mess under his chin. Well, I guess, I’ll be heading back then. He smiled, Where do I go to get my escorts and the payroll wagon, Colonel?

Colonel Winters nodded then turned to Private Smith. Private Smith dropped his pencil and stood up. Sir

Tell Sergeant Washington, to report here at once.

Yes sir. Smith grabbed his hat and hustled out the door.

The Colonel walked over to the doorway and looked outside. Benson began to fidget, he thought, the Colonel might be sending for a Sergeant to arrest him. Never turning from his view the Colonel declared, Captain, I’m changing your orders. I’m assigning you two drivers and ten troopers. Benson fiddled with his gloves while he looked for an answer; after all, Willard knew that only four troopers were supposed to be the escort but he knew better than to say anything, just yet.

The Colonel continued to look out the door and then he added, You’ll also take a Sergeant. He’s one of the men that I brought with me from New York.

Benson tried to look around the Colonel to see what he was looking at, or for. Then the Colonel turned around and looked him right in his eyes. Captain the troopers that I am assigning you are all Negroes. Do you have a problem with Negroes being the escort?

The Colonel searched Benson’s scarred face and waited for a response but Benson calmly shook his head no, No sir, that’s fine with me. We’ll be riding mostly at night, so nobody’s gonna see them anyway, he chuckled. The Colonel nodded and Benson went on. But Colonel, you know that my orders did say that I am to be assigned four troopers and frankly Colonel, Sir, four white troopers would be a hell of a lot better then a dozen niggers.

The Colonel’s expression changed to one of disapproval, Benson saw it and he quickly changed his tune, I mean twelve coloreds troopers, Sir. He nodded, cleared his throat then stated, Colonel it’s real simple, you see in my opinion four white troopers escorting would be a lot better and safer.

Colonel Winters leaned up against the door jam, folded his arms in front of him and listened to Benson as he rambled on. Heck Colonel, everybody knows white men are better soldiers than black ones are.

That was it. The Colonel let him have it with both barrels. Captain, I don’t give a shit! What, your opinion is of black troopers! I know all of these men, and I can tell you Captain, that they are as brave, and as trustworthy as any white man in this man’s Cavalry. And Captain, I know damn well! what your orders read, however, I’ve been hearing about a group of Rebel Raiders that’s been robbing and killing Negroes and settlers, along the Southwestern trails and that! Captain! Is right where this payroll money is headed. Benson searched for something to say, but he swatted at that pesky fly instead.

Then Colonel Winters added, I’ve been informed that there are rebel groups, mobs and gangs along that five hundred mile stretch of the trail. It looks like it’s their favorite hunting ground.

Benson wiped his face with his glove as the Colonel continued to expound, We don’t know if the stories we hear are just that, stories, but either way, I’m not taking any chances with a payroll of this size.

Benson nodded and shooed the fly. No Captain! I’ve made up my mind, I’m tripling your escorts.. You’ll take twelve troopers with you and that Captain is a change of orders, order!. Do we understand each other?

Yes Sir, twelve troopers, I got it.

The Colonel headed to his chair and as he did, he added, And make sure Moses is with you.

A quizzical look came across Benson’s face, he lifted up his eye brows and was grinning when he said, Yes Sir, take Moses but he was thinking what the hell has Moses got to do with anything and what was he going to tell Willard when he shows up with eight more men, but he knew that Willard wouldn’t mind, after all, they were niggers, and everybody knows niggers can’t fight, but he figured maybe he should give it one more try.

Colonel with all due respect, Sir, I think four white troopers and four black ones might be better Sir. The Colonel shook his head no. Look Colonel, I know you’re worried, but, I rode up here without seeing a single living sole and nobody saw me either.

The Colonel’s response was quick and to the point. Captain, two days ago our lines of communication were broken, somewhere along that Southwestern trail. We don’t know where the break is, and we don’t know whether it was caused by rebels, Indians, or the weather. Besides Captain, when you rode up here you weren’t carrying three hundred thousand dollars in gold coins.

That stopped Benson dead in his tracks, he thought how much? But what came out of his mouth was, Oh, yes Sir. That sure is a lot of money.

Colonel Winters nodded, grunted and then he added, That’s right Captain. That’s, a lot, of money.

Benson smiled, Well Sir since you put it like that it makes sense to have extra troopers with us. I didn’t know how much money we were transporting and you’re right Sir. I guess that’s why you’re the Colonel. We do need additional troopers, Sir. Yes Sir, you sure are right Sir. The Colonel was pleased to see that Benson saw it his way, but Benson wasn’t finished, yet, Colonel does changing my orders mean that I’ll have to stay till you get an okay from headquarters?

Captain, west of the Mississippi, I am headquarters. Benson nodded. Now, like I was saying, Moses will be second in command. He’s an experienced man that’s been in my command for seven years. I’m sorry to say he’s retiring at the end of this month. I sure do hate to lose him, he’s a good man.

Benson nodded and then the Colonel asked him, Captain, while you’re on the trail with him maybe you could talk him into signing up for another year.

Benson grinned, Oh, don’t worry Colonel, I’ll talk him into staying in. He laughed and slapped that fly off of his cheek again.

Thank you Captain, we need more men like Moses and I’ll tell you this Captain, if you run into trouble? You can count on him. He’s brave, he’s smart and he’s experienced.

Benson nodded then the Colonel added Fact is, he’s one of the best fighting men I’ve ever known and I do mean in and out of the Army. Benson kept nodding and the Colonel kept talking, When the war was at its worst, he put his life on the line for his fellow man, many, many times. White or black, it made no difference to him, even saved my butt once. He made the sign of the cross, Thank God.

Excuse me Colonel are you talking about the Moses in the Bible?

The Colonel grinned and shook his head no. No, Captain, I’m talking about the Moses in the Cavalry. He laughed then muffled it down to a chuckle. Benson grinned but he didn’t think it was that funny.

The Colonel turned towards the door as Sergeant Moses Washington walked in. Moses was in his early forties, weighed about 180 pounds and stood close to six feet tall. He had a sturdy looking body and a touch of gray on the sides of his hair. His skin was very dark, but it had a deep golden glow to it and his dark brown eyes twinkled, mischievously, when he smiled.

Moses was abandoned as an infant, and whether or not his family was or was not slaves he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He also didn’t know whether Father Caruso was telling the truth when he said that he found him when he was fishing on the waterfront piers. Moses was about eight weeks old.

The priest had brought him into the Catholic Mission in downtown Manhattan. The only thing that Moses knew about himself was that he was born in the winter of 1826.

Father Caruso told the nuns that while fishing he heard a baby crying. The cries were coming from behind a stack of empty apple crates and when he looked behind them he saw Moses covered in rags. For the next twelve years, Moses’ name at the mission was Washington, just Washington.

One day while Sister Ann Marie was conducting a bible study she asked him, Washington, of all the great men in the bible who is the greatest of them all?

Moses stood up smiled and answered, Its Moses, Moses is the greatest man in the Bible.

Sister Ann Maria shook her head no in disappointment. No, no, no, no! She scolded, It’s not Moses. It’s our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He’s the greatest man in the Bible, not Moses.

Moses looked at her and said, Sister, I know that Jesus died to save our souls, but Moses talked with God, and he wrote the Holy Bible before Jesus was even born. And he freed all of the Jewish slaves with out having to kill one person and that sister is a lot harder to do, than dying is.

Well, that does have a touch of truth to it Washington, but Moses was not the Son of God, was he?

Well, no sister, but God must have been his uncle or a really good friend. Don’t-cha- think sister? Sister Ann Marie smiled and patted his shoulder.

You’re right. God and Moses were good friends. In fact, I think we should call you Moses. She smiled, Let me see, Mr. Moses Washington. Yes, that sounds good. Do you like it?

Yes ma’am, I like it a lot.

While living at the mission, Moses learned to read, write and to believe in Jesus Christ, and to never, ever, lose his faith in the power of God. At eighteen, the priest got him a job at the Red House Brewery in Upper Manhattan. On the day Moses was leaving the priest gave him five one-dollar bills, for a month’s room and board. He also gave him a small pocket bible. When he handed Moses the bible he said, "Moses, remember, no matter how bad things get, always trust in God’s will, even when you fear what the end result might be.

Moses smiled and then he said, Thy will be done, Father, Thy Will Be Done. He put the money in his pant’s pocket and placed the good book into his shirt pocket and there it would stay.

Moses’ job at the brewery was to load the beer barrels for the daily deliveries and after two days of sleeping in a rented bed, twenty blocks away from the job, he got lucky. He met another black man named Joseph Tatum. Joseph was thirty-five years old and the brewery’s stable master and he could also read and write.

Joseph had a room in the cellar of the brewery and he was willing to share it with Moses.

Joseph was in charge of the horses and delivery wagons and after a few weeks he got Moses the job of wagon driver. On pay-days the two men would go to the black sections in the city and sew their oats so-to-speak.

In the summer of 46, they were both making a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work and slavery was not an issue in New York City and the future looked like it had potential. One evening in October Moses was in the two- cot cellar reading the North Star Newspaper when he spotted an advertisement that went like this: ‘The Cavalry of the Federated Union needs Negro men." Moses showed the advertisement to Joseph and in December that year they enlisted in the Union’s Cavalry. For the next ten years they worked, ate, slept and had their fair share of cigarettes and whiskey and wild, wild, women.

Four months before war was officially declared, everything changed. They had gotten up early that Sunday and headed over to the mission to see Father Caruso and the kids as they had done many times before. By 1846 the mission had grown, where once there were twenty children being fed, cared for, and educated, now, there were more than a hundred children and they were of all colors, red, white, black, yellow and you name it. To Moses the children were the future of America, they were the country that he was proud to be serving.

When they arrived Father Caruso greeted them at the door and introduced them to Beth and Sarah Lamoure, two very attractive Negro sisters that were there to help for the day. They both lived and worked at the Wadsworth Boarding School, for young ladies in Upper New York City.

Their mother, Laverne, was one of many single black parents at that time and was the school’s cook. She was paid a small salary, plus room and board for her and her daughters. Ms. Wadsworth was an understanding and wise woman, she had made sure that Sarah and Beth got the same education that all young ladies living in Manhattan, New York would need to find work, a husband or both.

Laverne worked at the school till she died. The girls continued to work and get the education their mother wanted for them to have.

Beth was a thirty-one year old school librarian, bookkeeper and upstairs maid. Sarah was thirty-three. She did the cooking for the school, and taught the girls their seamstress lessons. Ms. Wadsworth sent them to the orphanage that day with donations of food, books and clothing and to help with whatever they could.

Well, as soon as Joseph laid eyes on Sarah, as far as he was concerned, from there on in, she was IT with a capital I . In the blink of an eye Joseph found his soul mate, and so did Sarah. Moses and Beth couldn’t keep their eyes or hands off of one other. He had never met a woman as thoughtful, intelligent, kind and as beautiful, as Beth was, and he had met a fair share of women.

Two months of dating was long enough, Moses and Beth got married two days before War was declared and that put an end to their hopes and dreams but just for the moment, they hoped. Joseph and Sarah were a little older and a little wiser. They put off getting married until the war was over. After all, Joseph asked and answered. How long can a war last? One, maybe two, weeks, at the very most a month, and it will be over and then they’d get married.

Two years passed before Joseph received his first and only letter. The letter arrived the night before they headed off to a small town called Gettysburg. Joseph was overjoyed to get her letter, but great joy quickly turned to great sorrow. Beth, Moses’ wife contacted Consumption and passed away. The news of Beth, Sarah’s sister and Moses’ wife, hurt Joseph deeply and he had the job of telling Moses the heartbreaking news that would change Moses forever, he now tempted death and purposely stepped into, harms way.

The loss of Beth devastated Moses. He lost his desire to live and time after time, he’d place himself in harms way without the thought of any consequences. If not for Joseph, Moses would be dead, buried and long forgotten. Joseph stood by him through his long careless days and longer tear- filled nights.

The war ended and four years had passed. Joseph and Moses, only had two more days left to serve in the Cavalry. After twenty years they would finally get their forty acres of land and there own mule to work it.

Moses walked up to the Colonel’s desk, snapped to, and saluted, Sir, his voice was clear and soft but in a firm and confident way, Sergeant Washington reporting, as ordered, Sir.

Benson and the Colonel returned his salute then the Colonel said, Sergeant, meet Captain Mason. Captain, this is the Moses I was talking about. Moses couldn’t help but see Benson’s scar and his first thought was that he got that in the war. He was probably a decorated hero. Moses smiled, It’s a pleasure to meet you Captain, he put his hand out to shake.

Benson looked away and gruffly said, Yeah, thanks Sergeant. Moses knew by the tone in Benson’s voice what he had to do. He stepped back, smiled and knew he wasn’t going to get along with this Captain and as it turns out, he was right.

Benson’s stomach growled. He smiled. If you don’t mind Colonel, I’d like to leave before the sun sets, but I’ve got to get something in my belly first. Again his belly growled. He put his hand on his stomach. I’m mighty hungry, Sir. The Colonel nodded but he was surprised at the way Benson had ignored Moses’ attempt to shake his hand, but he knew that there were more than just a few, white officers that refused to shake hands with Negroes and some of them even believed that Negroes were not dependable under stress or other war like conditions. Moses and the Colonel were aware of the stories but neither had found them to be true.

The Colonel nodded. Yes. Of course Captain. You go over to the Mess and fill up your belly.

Benson nodded, looked out the door and asked, Where is it?

The Colonel looked outside and pointed, Next to the barracks, you can’t miss it. The Sergeant and I will get the wagons and troopers ready while you eat. Benson put his hat on and saluted the Colonel then without giving Moses a second look he walked out, the good news was, the fly went with him.

Colonel Winters watched as Benson walked across the yard then he turned towards Moses, You know I’ve got an odd feeling about that Captain. He seems like he’s a little green and a little too nervous to be handling an assignment this size. What do you think?

Moses looked at Benson. He was swatting at the fly and walking at a quick pace. Moses smiled then replied, Yes Sir, he’s green and nervous and I hope you don’t mind Sir, but he’s also rude and nasty. The Colonel knew Moses just had an embarrassing moment, something that Moses didn’t take easy, and he knew that Moses was a little pissed off.

Colonel Winters walked over to him and put his arm over his shoulder and smiled, Listen Moses, he said in his warm and fatherly tone, The Captain’s just had a long, hard ride. He’s tired and he’s hungry. I don’t think he meant you personally any disrespect and he does come very highly respected. The only thing the Captain’s got on his mind is to go back to his family and his friends.

Well, that was almost the truth, but the Colonel had no idea, who or should I say what Benson’s family and friends were. Moses smiled, Okay, Colonel, if you say so, but there’s something about him I don’t like. I’ll be glad when I’m a civilian so I don’t have to deal with officers like him any more.

The Colonel smiled and gave him a nod. Moses the Colonel stated, We’ve been getting reports about a group of Confederate Rebels that have been robbing and killing everyone they come across. Moses nodded that he’d heard those stories as well. Well, two days ago our lines of communication were broken or cut, we don’t know yet. I’ve got a squad of engineers looking into it as we speak. The last report we had was that rebel raiders were down by the Arizona border and that’s right where this shipment is going. Moses, you’ve got to help me out. I need a man like you to make sure that this payroll gets through to Winston.

Moses looked at the Colonel, and shook his head no. I can’t make that trip Colonel, I’m mustering out in two days. That trip will take two weeks. Sorry Colonel, I’ll be out of uniform before then.

Moses listen to me, I need you on this trip. The last two transports were robbed, and the escorts were killed. We can’t take another man being killed or another payroll being robbed. I’ll give you plenty of escorts and firepower.

Moses wanted to help him, but with Joseph and Sarah getting married and the three of them making plans to go to California, he just couldn’t do it. Too many plans would have to change. He shook his no again. I’m sorry Colonel but I just can’t do it.

The Colonel shook his head in disappointment, I don’t have another Sergeant who is capable enough to lead this escort. He looked at Moses and pleaded, Come on Moses it’s less than two weeks, I tell you what I’ll do for you Moses, in two days you’ll be a civilian, right?

Moses nodded. Okay, if you stay, just through this tour, that’ll be about ten days past your retirement date right? Moses kind of nodded Well, I’ll get you an extra bonus pay, say, two hundred dollars payable to you the day you get back, that’s plus your muster out pay. What do you say?"

Moses knew the Colonel was truly concerned about this mission, and he foolishly relented, Okay Colonel, I’ll give you two more weeks, but that’s it. Colonel Winters smiled. I’ll have to do some explaining to Joseph, but maybe he should be alone on his honeymoon he laughed, and we could use the money when we get to California.

Thank you, Moses, The Colonel humbly said, I would have never asked you to do this Moses, but I need someone with your war-time savvy and experience.

Don’t worry Colonel. I’ll pick troopers that can handle whatever comes their way. That was a statement Moses lived to regret.

Colonel Winters patted his back and added, Oh, and don’t take any men that’ll be mustering out, in, oh say, thirty days. Moses removed a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket opened it and read it.

Yes sir, we can do that. He folded the paper and put it back.

The Colonel walked over to his hat rack, removed his hat, looked in the small mirror that was loosely hung on the wall and he carefully placed his hat on. Then he belted up his saber, adjusted his jacket, shined his shoes on the back of his pants, looked over at Moses, smiled and said, Okay, I’m ready. You get the troopers and I’ll get the wagons. We’ll meet he took his pocket watch out and looked in an hour from now at the Paymaster’s office.

Moses nodded, Yes Sir. Then headed towards the barracks while the Colonel marched off to the stables, but the Colonel just had to stop in front of the barber shop to spend a few minutes with the new recruits that were waiting outside for their haircuts. The Colonel never missed a chance to talk with all of the new men.

Inside the mess hall a dozen or so troopers had just finished eating lunch and were just sitting around talking, laughing and smoking when Benson walked in. He looked around, grumbled, filled up his tray then looked at the men sitting nearest him and he blurted out, Get the hell out of here. Don’t you know when a white man eats he don’t want to be looking at a black face. Now get out of here. Joseph was one of the men. He stood up and headed out, the others quickly followed.

The forty bed barracks had ten double beds on each side of the room and at that time thirty men were inside the large room, some were on their bunks, a couple were cleaning their guns, others were playing cards for cigarettes and in the far back, behind the last bunk, four men were singing a cotton picking song.

Moses walked in and quickly roared, Attention! The men quickly lined up at the end of their bunks. Moses looked them over then calmly and clearly he stated, When I call your name go outside and form a line. He began to call out names.

Private Little Joe. Little Joe was in his twenties, stood barley five feet tall, with his boots on. He was born free in the State of New Jersey. But at the age of ten he was kidnapped and sold to a plantation owner in North Carolina. He figured the only way he’d ever get back home was to be able to run faster than everybody else, so fast that even a dog or a horse couldn’t catch him. By eleven years of age he began to practice running. He’d run for everything, to the stables, in the fields, he’d run while doing daily chores, and he ran every day, every hour and every spare minute for the next ten years. Time passed and Little Joe had mastered his breathing, pacing, speed and about all his quickness but he also became very long winded in many other ways.

With the war looming, Little Joe made his move. He snuck into the Master’s house, emptied a burlap clothing bag, filled it with bread, canned foods and all the fruit he could carry, and then, he ran as fast and as long as he could. It took him two months of lung-busting sprints from hunters shooting at him, hounds and even horses chasing after him but he never did make it to New Jersey.

Without money or a place to sleep Little Joe, like many other run away slaves had did, he joined the Army, one month before the war began. Little Joe was a little man and whenever he was teased about his height he would respond, I’m little only because that’s the way God wanted me to be.

That response usually rallied a friend, of which he had many. Little Joe was quick on his feet, but he was even quicker with his tongue and the men loved it when he’d tell them one of his unbelievable stories. Some stories were close to true, some just funny and some were nothing more than good old fashioned American home-spun bullshit.

Most of the time the men didn’t have a clue whether the story was true or just funny but either way they loved when Little Joe would spin one of his tales. Little Joe snatched his hat up off the bed and headed out. I’m there Sergeant. He said.

Moses smiled and continued, Private Willie Brown. Willie was a run away slave from Virginia. As far as he knew he had no brothers, no sisters and no schooling, unless one would consider picking cotton twelve hours a day an education. Willie signed up after the war and he was a new kid on the block.

Private Walker. Moses called.

Lincoln Walker was also from South Carolina. He was just eighteen when he joined, and was in time to play his part in four years of hell. Lincoln nodded, slapped his hat on his pants leg and walked out.

Moses looked at the remaining men, then back at the paper work he took a second look at the remaining men then called, Baldy Johnson. You’re next.

Yes Sergeant, Baldy quickly walked to the barracks door but he slowed down when he approached Moses and quietly asked him. Are we going somewhere Sergeant?

Looks like it to me Baldy. Baldy nodded and picked up his pace. Baldy was born and raised in Upstate New York. His father was a field worker. His mother was shot in what was called a hunting accident, but most of the blacks in the know, knew it was for saying no. She was in her ninth month of pregnancy and lived long enough to give birth to her only child Baldy. She was fifteen when she died. By the time Baldy was fifteen, his father was killed, in what this time was called a case of mistaken identity, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

With two years of being a homeless, street wise seventeen year old, Baldy joined the Union’s Cavalry, and by the ripe age of twenty-one he had twenty-five confirmed combat kills, was wounded three times, and pronounced dead twice. Baldy believed that not getting killed in a war where he’d seen so many of his friends and comrades die, could have only meant one thing, it meant that as long as he was in the army he wouldn’t die, but he was dead wrong.

Moses called out the names Sammy Jackson and Charley White. The two were buddies before they enlisted. They both said they were twenty years of age, but neither was a minute past seventeen. They enlisted because they were hungry and the recruiter promised three meals a day and meat on Sunday’s and Wednesday’s, and most importantly, the United States Cavalry would be protecting them when they laid down to sleep.

Moses walked past a few more men then stopped in front of the biggest man he knew. He looked up at the mountain of a man, smiled and said Sorry Moo, but I need you with us on this trip. Moo was six foot-seven, weighed in at two hundred and fifty pounds and was a mass of rock hard muscle. He was bald as an egg and as strong as a Brahma bull, but Moo had a great talent, one that everybody loved, Moo was a cook that could cook. He’d been kidnapped from Jamaica and smuggled into America when he was just twelve years old. The slave traders that kidnapped him killed his mother and father while they were taking him.

Ten years had passed and it was a week before the first shot was fired. Moo still belonged to the two Frenchmen that killed his mother and father. He was taught by their cook how to season food and he learned how to cook well. One night, while the men were drinking and celebrating about the great amount of money they were selling Moo for in the morning. Moo knew he’d never get another chance to get vengeance for his parents and he was now big enough and strong enough to exact his revenge.

He added a few sleeping herbs to the food that night and after they had eaten and relaxed he walked over to them, smiling and nodding and as soon as he got behind them and when they least expected it, he wrapped his massive arms around their necks and squeezed until he heard them snap, loud and clear and both men went limp in his arms.

Moo had no idea what to do or where to go, but he got lucky he made it to the safety of the North. The whole nine weeks that he was hiding and running he was looking for a sign that he was back in Jamaica. Moo joined the Cavalry and the war effect on the day the war began.

Moses walked past a few more men and stopped. Privates Phillips, Parsons and Stone All three had joined during the first month of the war, all three were as dumb as pick-up sticks and all three had combat experience and all three were not afraid to kill white men.

Moses began walking and calling, Jude Harris and Paul Simpson. Harris and Simpson fought side by side, both where wounded on the same day, in the same battle, and both were to be discharged on the same day. Harris had taken Simpson under his wing from the day they met. He knew that Simpson wasn’t the smartest man in the company but he liked him just the way he was. Simpson didn’t know how to read or write, an X was the best he could do and he’d stutter whenever he got nervous, but to Harris, Simpson had a heart made of kindness and Harris made sure that nobody made fun of his buddy Simp.

Come on, move your ass Simpson! Moses ordered as they hustled out the door.

Colonel Winters entered the stables and looked in the Stable Master’s room, but no one was there. Then he heard laughing and talking. The voices were coming from a stall at the end of the stable. Who’s on duty in here? He bellowed.

Instantly two men stepped out and came to attention and saluted, "It’s me Colonel. Stable Master Joseph Tatum. Joseph was in charge of the Cavalry’s horses. He fed them, watered them, brushed them and loved them and that included the mules and the jackasses. Joseph was being discharged in two days and planned to marry the love of his life, Sarah La Moure as soon as he could.

The Colonel returned their salutes and as they brought they’re hands back down the young private nervously said, Sir, Private Willie Barclay, 2nd assistant to the stable janitor.

The Colonel smiled and said, Joseph I need six mules hitched up to a large cargo wagon and six to a supply wagon.

Yes sir Colonel I’ll get ‘em right away. Joseph answered.

Oh, and when you’re done bring the cargo wagon over to the Sergeant of Arms at the armory and tell the Sergeant that I said this is the wagon I want the Gat-ling mounted on. I’ve already spoke with him about it and he’s expecting it.

Yes Sir. Joseph replied and nodded.

Then the Colonel added, When you get the supply wagon ready, take it to the back of the Mess and tell the supply clerk I want food and water for fifteen men on a fifteen day assignment.

Yes Sir Colonel. Soon as we’re done, I’ll bring it over there, Barclay chimed in. Joseph grabbed a roll of rope off a stall door, tossed it over his shoulder and headed out the back with Barclay bouncing behind him.

Wait a minute Joseph, the Colonel called, I want to congratulate you on your retirement, and your coming marriage.

The Colonel smiled, removed his glove and put his hand out. Joseph dropped the rope and harness and walked back with a proud smile. Joseph had served twenty years and in all that time the Colonel was the first white officer to offer to shake his hand with his glove off. A surprised Joseph thanked him. Thank you Colonel, thank you, very, very much, Sir.

You’re welcome, Joseph. Then he smiled at Joseph, nodded, turned and then left the