Songs of the Shenandoah by Michael K. Reynolds

Author:Michael K. Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, Historical
Publisher: B&H Publishing Group
Published: 2013-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

The Others

Davin woke slowly from his deep slumbers and realized a commotion was brewing outside. The seam of his tent was breached and the reddened face and black straight-haired head of his friend Barry poked inside. “Move your lazy carcass. You better get yours quick, before they are all gone.”

“What is it?” Davin rubbed his eyes.

“And I won’t be waiting for you none. Not with the condition of mine being as they are.” Barry shut the tent, taking the morning light with him, and his steps could be heard fading away amid the shouts and cheers of men.

Davin tossed aside his green wool blanket. Barry was right in that he didn’t want to miss any of the excitement. After grabbing his trousers and holding them up, he stepped into them slowly, careful not to reinjure his left foot. Only three weeks had passed since he fell from the greased pole, yet his ankle was healing nicely. This would be a terrible time to injure it again. With rumors of a battle approaching, his life depended on being healthy and strong.

In just a few moments, he was dressed and out of the tent, squinting in the sun and feeling the cool air over his body.

Men ran to and fro, many of them half dressed, and hundreds of them gathered together, encircling something that captivated their attention.

Davin made his way over to the crowd and nudged in between others until he could see what was the cause of all of this ruckus. As it became clear what it was, he started to laugh.

There as a large prey surrounded by hundreds of ravenous lions were two wagons filled and overflowing with boots, each tied together by their laces.

Standing on the end of one of the wagons was a sergeant, who had an early morning cigar in one hand and a long wooden pole in the other. He was shouting out commands and he, along with a few other soldiers assisting him with the task, seemed to be the only reason they hadn’t turned into an unrestrained mob. “No fighting, boys. No elbows. There is enough for everyone and we’ll be keeping this all civil, taking turns.”

A young private stepped forward and then felt the brunt of the stick in his side, which caused him to clasp it with both hands.

“Not you,” barked the sergeant.

The boy’s face turned red. “You just said it was for everyone.”

“Only if you’re in the 69th.” The crowd responded with loud affirmations.

“Who says I’m not Irish?” The boy raised his arm to fend off the hands jabbing at him.

“Both your mother and your father!” a voice shouted, and it was echoed with more poignant derision.

Davin felt a tug at his arm and turned to see Barry beside him, grinning to the point it seemed painful. “Can you believe all of this?” He pointed to his ragged shoes. “We’ve been marching in these, with a thin thread holding our shoes to our toes, and suddenly the army decides to fancy us up.

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