Marey's Heights
“Fall back!” The command comes from somewhere to the left. The voice is deep and somehow manages to cut through the sound of gun fire and distant artillery. The bullets have been barraging the line of navy clad soldiers for what seems like hours. They rain down like a summer down pour coming off the warm Maine coast that Vi suddenly misses with all her heart. The Confederates had managed to secure the high ground, positioning themselves behind a stone wall that seems to stretch the length of the ridge. It never seemed to fail. As long as the Army of the Potomac was south of the Mason-Dixon line, the Army of Northern Virginia had the advantage.
Vi turns and takes off running, not wanting to learn what happens when a minie ball rips through a body. Due to the frigid weather that had descended upon Fredericksburg, their commanding officer had informed them they were to wear their uniform coats. To make matters worse, or at least more annoying, the added wool material from the winter attire made it difficult to run.
The winters here were nothing compared to the brutal winters back in Bar Harbor. That was cold weather. This was simply a chill in the air.
All around her lies death and destruction. Blood and gore can be seen speckling the ground. Though it’s cold, the air seems to carry the smell of gunpowder and death as though it was a hot summer day. The battles where they’d engaged troops near Manassas, Virginia had occurred in July and August. It was miserably hot and the death and dying had made breathing unbearable. Just like during those campaigns, Vi tries not to look down as she runs to escape the merciless volleys of bullets that rain down like hellfire upon her unit. Vi does not fear death, she fears suffering.
As she turns to survey the scene in an attempt to find her brothers, she feels a bullet rip through her abdomen. Instinctively her hand reaches for the wound as her legs give out. Knees collide with frozen dirt as her hand quickly turns from flesh colored to scarlet. Tears swell in her eyes and threaten to break fear. The realization that death may be coming for her settles in her chest and causes her heart to ache. Vi can now only hope death is a woman with a gentle touch.
She returns her gaze to the retreat, this time managing to see Mylo sprinting away from the battlefield with Claggor not far behind. Vi breathes a sigh of relief knowing that at least two of the Zaun children will be going home safe from the battlefield today. Hopefully the boys could make it the remainder of their six months until their two year agreements they’d signed up for would be up.
Another bullet penetrates her shoulder and her body slams into the ground. Bullets still fly above her, but the rate at which they are coming seems to slow. Her eyes watch as the smoke from constant gunfire slowly dissipates. Once there is stoppage of the barrage, all that remains is a chorus of soldiers moaning and praying for death to come and end their misery.
Vi knows this is where she dies. Her secret will be discovered and most likely her body will be discarded in a pit somewhere on the outskirts of town. “A woman’s place is in the home mothering her children, not on a battlefield.” Luckily, her brothers had been raised better. They were rugged Mainers, used to having to have all hands on deck to survive the harsh winters. It didn’t matter she was a woman to them. So, when the 2nd Maine was formed and Vi wanted to fight, whether the men in Washington wanted her to or not, she’d stolen her father’s identity and joined up with her brothers. Now, she lay dying on a battlefield hundreds of miles away in Fredericksburg, Virginia.
As day began to fade, the woman could feel her life slipping away. This was what she’d feared would happen. The bullet wouldn’t kill her instantly, instead it would lodge itself in her body and she’d slowly fade into the afterlife. How she wished the bullet would have been an instant kill. The pain was becoming unbearable.
Her eyes were beginning to flutter when she felt hands on her. Panic set in as she could hear through the haze the sound of a man calling for someone else that was nearby. Every inch of her body wanted to fight and thrash to escape, but the blood loss had weakened her. Before her eyes fully clothed, she swears she sees a woman telling her to hold on and it’ll be over soon. Perhaps Vi is right, death is a woman with gorgeous crystal blue eyes.
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“Caitlyn! This one is alive! I need your assistance!” Her father beckons. The excitement in his voice is hard to miss. Body after body had been inspected and time after time, they’d all been dead.
When she kneels on the ground, the first thing she notices is the delicate face of the solider that appears to be worn down. Another young human forced to grow up too soon due to the horrors of war. She couldn’t help but wonder what hells he’d seen. Where was he from? Did he have a family? Had he participated in the battle near Sharpsburg? So many questions that she shouldn’t be asking. He was a Yankee, the enemy.
Yet, she’d never truly paid much attention to the divide. Politics seemed to only cause issues as opposed to solving problems. Her father had offered aid to plenty a soldier, no matter the side. Tobias had traveled to Manasas during both battles that had occurred there. They’d also traveled to Sharpsburg, unknowing at the time Caitlyn’s husband had made his way there with the 12th Virginia Calvary Unit.
He’d always been an excellent horse rider. Upon graduation from the University of Virginia in 1860, he immediately signed up to join the Confederate Army. She remembers how at the time it had upset her greatly having just found out she was expecting their first child. Charles had sworn to her there was no need to worry. All would turn out well and no war would actually come to pass. How he had been wrong.
Even worse now, as the war trudged on, the battles were occurring closer to home. Most of the major battles so far seemed to have been centered around their native state of Virginia. Sharpsburg had been an exception.
“His breath is shallow, and it appears there are two wounds.” As he unbuttons the winter uniform coat, his daughter dutifully watches beside him, preparing to take notes for when they get the soldier home. The doctor starts to check under the soldier’s actual uniform jacket but freezes instantly.
“Daughter, we need to go. I need you to help me get them on the cart to head home.”
Caitlyn can sense her father’s concern. Something has spooked him, and she wants to ask what is going on, but before she can he is motioning her to help him. An unknown urge takes over her as she reaches her hand out and gentle caresses the youthful face. “It’s alright. We’re here to help you.”
So much death around her and finally she feels as though life is allowing her to live once more.
Both expel grunts as they lift the bulky body and carry it over to their cart which is positioned nearby. Frantically, Tobias jumps on to his horse, his daughter behind him. After they have put enough of a distance between themselves and the battlefield, Caitlyn enquires about the sudden shift in mood. “Father, what’s going on? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
His eyes remain fixed on the road but he uses peripheral vision to ensure no one is waiting for them on the sides of the road. “The solider.” He stops, looking around as if he’s afraid the words will get him killed. “The solider is a woman.”
Caitlyn looks back at the body they’ve placed in their wagon. Is it possible? She’d heard of this before, but never experienced it. What would cause a woman to be so bold as to suit up amongst the men and take the battlefield, facing certain death?
“Her chest is wrapped, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking at.” Tobias’s words are hushed, still concerned there is an entity somewhere along the road that will attack them. “No one must know about this, Cait.”
Caitlyn can only nod, knowing the dire consequences this could mean for the woman. Not only was she a Yankee in enemy territory, but she was female Yankee in enemy territory. She remembered a story Charles had told her during his trip home after Charlotte’s birth. He’d been able to sneak away while they were passing through on a reconnaissance mission. “A soldier in General Pickett’s brigade was found to be a Yankee spy. She was a female.”
“What happened to her?”
“The boys had their fun and then she just, vanished.”
The thought sent a chill up Caitlyn’s spine. At the time she’d thought nothing of it. A Yankee fool so bold and brazen they felt they could mesh with the boys in gray. Now, she thought of the woman who had taken a bullet for her cause when most women her age were at home sewing. That’s bravery, not what Caitlyn had done since the beginning of the war. She’d simply pined away for something more than life had handed her.
“Father, we must hide her. If she’s discovered, her existence, she will most likely suffer more than she is right now.”
Tobias’s brows furrowed. He knew all too well what would certainly happen if the girl had been discovered. He’d spent time in the military, a medic during the Mexican American war. While he held the utmost respect for any man willing to die for their country, he also understood that not all held the same high moral standards as his family. He feared if the solider they were transporting were discovered by the wrong solider, there’s no telling what they would do to her.
“As soon as we arrive home, throw her uniform in the fireplace. Make sure once the fire is extinguished you dispose of her buttons properly. We cannot risk any evidence being present in the event we have unexpected guest.”
It wasn’t out of character to have military guests at their home. Her father was close with high-ranking officers in the Confederate Army. He’d served with Generals Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. He’d rubbed elbows with Generals James Longstreet and Lowell Armistead. Occasionally at night, when it was just the two of them resting in front of the fire, Tobias would talk of the men wearing gray. However, he’d also talk of his friends wearing the Union navy uniforms as well. It was hard on him knowing friend fought friend over differences that could be easily solved if the men in Washington weren’t so dammed hardheaded.
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure her safety, Yankee or not.” Caitlyn means the words. She’d never truly cared about the cause. Her husband had cared and where had it gotten him? Killed while attempting to aid southern troops at the cornfield in Sharpsburg.
He left her alone and pregnant to join the cause all because he’d felt a duty to not his country, but to Virginia. “This is our home, Caitlyn. Do you expect me to stand by and let them take our freedom from us?”
“What of me? What of us, our family? Is that not home enough.” His silence was all she’d needed. In the morning, he was gone, without so much as a farewell. Her anger burned for days. There was nothing her father could say to her to quell it. When he died, she didn’t even truly mourn.
Now, she couldn’t help but wonder who the wounded woman had left behind. If she had a family, perhaps children waiting for her return. Did her husband know where she had run off to or did she even have a husband? The thought of disguising oneself to join a cause you so fully believe in absolutely astounded the southerner. This woman had risked her life and Caitlyn prayed she got to find out the reason why.