We go back to sitting quiet and then we hear the rattling thunder of the long roll. We jump up, taking our arms and equipment.
The Regiment gathers outside Captain’s headquarters tent, stacking our weapons before shifting our lines to face Captain.
Henry and bumbling Levi Blalock are there, looking like something worse than sheepish. It’s been days since I last saw her about, but Jennie is off to the side, her small mouth drawn tight, her bandage basket on her thin arm like she’s coming from the hospital. She is working not to look at Captain, and anybody can see she ain’t happy either, even before she swipes the back of her hand across her eyes.
‘Gentlemen,’ Captain says. ‘I have set these soldiers before you as an example, not that you might follow them, but that you might turn away from their worthless and low behavior. These two among you have done a disservice to the Army of the Potomac and this Regiment, and shall be disciplined accordingly.’
Captain stalks to stand in front of Henry. ‘Henry O’Malley, do you deny falling asleep on picket duty last night and, through your irresponsible actions, putting not only your Regiment but this Army and this nation at peril?’
Henry, his face blazing even brighter, doesn’t say one word, just shakes his head.
‘I could have you SHOT for such conduct!’ Captain yells, but Henry don’t lift his head. Behind me Jimmy sucks in a long breath. Captain keeps yelling, nose to nose with Henry. ‘It is a MERCY that I am assigning to you one week of picket duty strapped to a stick.
‘And you, Levi Blalock, caught DESERTING last night by other members of the picket line doing their DUTY. Do you deny it?’ Levi’s face is pale and he looks everywhere but at Captain. ‘DO YOU DENY IT?’ Captain yells again, and Levi hunches his shoulders, like he’s expecting a blow.
‘Then you shall serve one week of latrine duty AND to ensure you never forget how you have jeopardized the safety of your countrymen, endangered your fellow soldiers, and disgraced yourself, you shall be branded a deserter!’
The whole Regiment holds its breath, me along with it. That’s why Jennie ain’t happy with her husband and why she’s got that basket on her arm, why the fire is burning hot by the tent, a poker sticking from the flames. Captain gestures to Hiram, who swaggers to the fire. He pulls that poker from the coals with a look on his face like it gives him a special pleasure to see the red-orange D glow against the charred wood. Then he and young Frank Morgan push Levi down on the ground. Hiram must be even stronger than he looks because he forces Levi’s head to the right, pinning his cheek against the dirt. All the while Levi is going wild, kicking and bucking as Captain moves that poker toward him, and I knew he ain’t one to ever cross.
I close my eyes, but that don’t make it stop.
CHAPTER
16
OLD CAPITOL PRISON, WASHINGTON, D.C.: MAY 1862
Our first real orders come a week later, the day Henry finishes his punishment. We’re to guard Secesh prisoners kept at the Old Capitol Prison, and even though I draw relief with Will and Edward instead of Jeremiah or one of the boys from home, I’m glad to be somewhere the Rebels ain’t fighting.
The three of us, me, Will, and Edward, walk on a wide pavement, toward the four-story brick building. Except for the arched windows above the door, all the windows have got curtains pulled, almost like it’s a real home but for the iron bars.
Just as we step up to the main guardhouse, Edward elbows me. ‘You know they have a lady spy in this prison?’
‘Have they now?’
‘That’s right,’ he says, and digs his thumb into Will’s ribs. ‘I’m of a mind to get a good look at her, maybe give her a good squeeze for me and my brother.’
Edward winks at the thick-shouldered warden we’re reporting to, but it don’t work the way he hopes because Thick-shoulders says, ‘You patrol the street—I need you to keep any passersby away from the prison yard. And you other two, you’ll take Mrs. Greenhow down for some air.’
‘You’ve got to be daft!’ Edward shouts. ‘You think those two can even keep a sheep in line?’
Edward is still being ornery with Thick-shoulders when me and Will head up the steps into the prison. It is nicer than any house I’ve ever set foot in. By the wall where the floors ain’t dirty and scraped, the richness of the dark wood shows. The halls are wide and plastered, and the main staircase has a carved pineapple post and a curved railing. Those stairs creak under our weight, like I am some fine person, and there is something good in that thought.