They Met at Shiloh (19 page)

The captain inspected each man briefly before turning around and rejoining the conference behind him. Robert looked at the others with him and shrugged, as if to say, “Perhaps our services are not wanted.” They stood and waited.

The captain returned after a few minutes of conversation and addressed Robert.

“You men all have weapons?” he asked and received affirmative nods in response. “Go fall in with the leftmost company, that man there.” The captain nodded toward a bearded fellow, whose only symbol of command was the red sash and sword he wore over a plain sack coat. Robert turned back to the captain, who continued, “He’s the captain of Company K. Go on over there to his company and rest. We’ll be moving as soon as the other companies form up.”

“You men!” a voice from the crowd of officers rang out. “What command you with?”

“25th Missouri Volunteers, Union, Sir,” Robert shouted back.

“You been in many engagements?” the officer inquired and stepped forward.

“Yes, some of us. Brigaded with Colonel Peabody of Prentiss’s division,” Robert answered.

The captain spoke up. “This is Colonel Ammen, 10th Brigade, Nelson’s division.”

“Well,” Colonel Ammen said, “these men behind you, the 36th Indiana and my old command, have yet to see the elephant but have seen hard marching through swamps and mud to get here. They are good men. Your muskets will steady the line.” Robert glanced quickly at Huebner, then at Gustavson. Ammen continued, “I worry their enthusiasm will melt at the first fire, and this is a desperate time. You men are a godsend. God speed.”

Colonel Ammen turned his back to them and returned to the group he had been conversing with, a group, Robert noted, that also contained several generals.

Robert turned to his pards. After that “bucking up” speech from the colonel, he could not hide his worry about what they were getting into. It was enough to attach themselves to a foreign command, but another thing to do so with a green regiment.

The sudden report of several cannon in simultaneous discharge rent the air, causing everyone to start despite the near constant rattle of musketry that became something easily ignored after a time. The companies of the 36th rose to their feet and became animated by the noisy exchange. Robert and the others made their way to the far left company and took station at the end of the line. They exchanged nervous hullos with the Indiana men closest to them, and the company first sergeant came up to them, a stern and worried look upon his face.

“What you men doing here?”

“Your captain told us to form up vis your Männer,” Gustavson replied and eyed the man coldly.

“He did, did he? For what purpose?” the first sergeant replied.

“Because der Männer 36th isht green, und der Männer 25th Missouri not. Ve show der first sergeant der elephant und hold his hand.”

A crowd appeared around the first sergeant. Robert wished he could shut Gustavson up, but the exchange had already gone too far.

“We came to offer our services,” Robert quickly interrupted. “Our regiment was broken this morning at the battle’s start, and we’re what’s left, First Sergeant. Your captain directed us over here to fall in with your company.”

There was something in the look of a seasoned soldier that was apparent, even in Huebner, that distinguished him from a green one—something in the way he carried himself and how his uniforms fit said he had seen the elephant before. Although the Indiana men looked the worse for wear after their march, they still had the look of unseasoned troops.

The first sergeant grunted and asked, “That so?”

“We’ve been in two different engagements now, and I think we can help bolster your company, First Sergeant,” Robert added.

“So, you part of them skulkers behind us then? Company K don’t need yer he’p. I’m gonna keep my eye on you all the same. You ran once, you’ll run again.”

“Ach, Dunkopf!” shouted Gustavson. His face was fiery red, his fists clenched. “Das sergeant first man to run hatte er gewesen mit — had he been with — the 25th this Morgen; der Rebels thick as der lice in meine sack coat. Charged us fünfmal, five times up der hill und no stop until 25th broken. Many good Männer go down. Das Sargent should be grateful we Männer seid mit seiner Kompanie.”

Huebner tugged on Robert’s sleeve and asked quietly, “They dun’ want us?”

“Seems so, Junge,” Gustavson replied, and he spat on the ground.

Robert gave the first sergeant a hard stare. In a quiet tone he asked, “Are you going to turn down twenty more muskets willing to fight for the honor of the 36th Indiana?”

“No, I’m not. I have no choice about that, it seems. At least as long as those muskets stay in line and mind my orders.”

Captain Armstrong jogged up to the company, barking orders as he came.

“First Sergeant, re-line the company and get these other men integrated quick. We march to the sound of the guns!”

With the newcomers, the company had to be re-aligned, and, by necessity, pards would be split up. The first sergeant ordered the company to line up by height, then to count by twos. One became accustomed to the man to the right and the left and those behind when formed in a line of battle or when marching. These also became one’s Comrades in Arms when formed for skirmish duty, and, with that familiarity, any sudden change was unsettling to even the most seasoned of troops.

A chorus of groans and grumbles followed, making it uncomfortable for all involved. Huebner, Gustavson, and the late Hildebrande had formed Roberts’ Comrades in Arms in the old regiment, but even they would be separated from Robert. Gustavson was a few men down from Robert in the first row, but Huebner’s position in the new rank was farther separated. Robert saw the disappointment in Huebner’s eyes and tried to look aloof in his new surroundings.

The men of the company eyed each of the newcomers suspiciously. Yet there was a hint of expectation and watchfulness from the others toward him, something of the older and more experienced brother amid his younger siblings or an older student in the presence of under-classmen. They were the strangers, but they were strangers who had seen the elephant, and that alone made them enviable to the newcomers to battle.

A group of mounted officers galloped up to the officer conference in front of the regiment, and Robert recognized General Grant among them.

The man to Robert’s right commented, “Looks like we ‘bout to move.”

“Gen’l Grant up there,” Robert added.

“That’s Grant?” the man to Robert’s left asked.

“So I’m told. Only seen him from afar mostly,” Robert said.

Grant was dressed in a plain, mud-spattered frock coat and a plain felt slouch hat. He wore no decoration save for the officer’s bars declaring his rank of major general. He was followed by two aides on horseback and was gesturing toward the loudest of the fighting in the distance. Robert needed little imagination to figure out they were about to double quick into that maelstrom.

Faced to the right and formed into marching column, the 36th marched off the field and onto the Shiloh Road. They moved in the general direction that Robert and his pards had raced away from earlier in the day. Leaving behind the landing, they reentered the rear area of the fighting. They passed scores of wounded men making their way toward the safety the regiment just left. Desperate work was ahead.

The road sloped downward. The high ground bristled with cannon, as batteries from the morning’s fight collected themselves for a desperate last stand. Though Robert had heard the fighting all day, it always seemed far enough away to be out of mind. Now, as they reentered this zone of combat, the reminders of the morning came back, along with the fear that accompanied those sights and sounds. Broken men and equipment lay all about the road, and rivulets of fresh blood flowed upon the dirt.

A courier galloped up from the direction of the firing. He motioned toward the fighting, and another regiment marched out of the trees bearing its wounded. The regiment’s colonel ran to the front of the column, waving his sword.

“Halt!” the colonel commanded.

The company’s first sergeant turned to growl at the men. “Company K, this is it. Steady yourselves. I’m watchin’ you Missouri men, fer the first one ta run will get a minié ball in the back from me.” A few of the men tittered nervously.

“And one from me, Sergeant,” Gustavson snapped in return, “when you show der white feather und run.”

“Use the fear, boys,” Robert called out. Thrust into the presence of green soldiers, he could not help but play the experienced veteran, though his experiences palled in comparison to some others in his own regiment. “Use the fear to make you stand instead of run. Load times nine like Hell itself is after you.”

“Quiet in the ranks!” the first sergeant shouted.

The colonel glanced over the men with narrow eyes before giving the order. “Forward, march!”

The 36th Indiana marched off of the road and into a field. The late afternoon sun was washing the trees with a yellowish fire. The low-hanging smoke wafted in ribbons from of the discharge of thousands of muskets and cannon. There was mean work being done ahead of them.

The regiment shifted from marching columns to columns of companies, and each company moved from marching four abreast to company lines of battle in two ranks. They would fight and die in this formation. The unfamiliar touch of new comrades reminded Robert of the morning’s combat and losses, a lonely feeling he pushed from his mind.

Again the report of guns in succession rocked the ground. These were no ordinary guns but heavy-caliber cannon. The men stirred with excitement. Most were eager to get on with it, and the company front bowed and ebbed as the nervousness animated the marching rhythm too fast or too slow, eliciting shouts and curses to guide right. They heard the Rebel yell.

“Dat’s jus’ them Secesh wailin’. You’ll be hearin’ more of that soon enough, Mann,” Gustavson told the soldier to his right.

“We’ve only ever heard about it,” the man next to Robert said.

The first sergeant half turned to bellow at the men, “Quiet in the ranks!”

“They only do that when they gets their blood up, which is all the time,” Robert said and cracked a wan smile.

“By the right of companies, into line at the double quick,” yelled the regimental adjutant. “March!”

A scramble ensued as the column of companies split into a regimental line of battle. Company K, being at the tail of the column, had to swing in an arch to reach its place on the left of the regimental battle line, and the men were winded by the time they reached it. Captain Armstrong reformed the company line in accordance with the rest of the regiment. The noise of battle was loud and continuous. Looking through the trees ahead, they could see crews frantically working a line of cannon. It was here that they were being formed to support. The energy in the air and the movement of the men belied the dread they felt. Each loud discharge made the green soldiers of the 36th Indiana jump, and the men around Robert looked to one another for any clue as to how to react. Robert could not help but notice the many eyes that were upon him.

“Forward, march!” the colonel ordered, and the regiment surged into the trees.

Leaves and twigs fell on them, and the zipping of flying lead caused a jittery reaction from the green Indiana men. Though his own heart raced and his stomach churned, Robert and his other pards remained calm. He knew the queer feeling of being under fire for the first time. He also knew that fear caught on like wild fire once exhibited by one person. Each man felt the fear but tried to appear courageous before his pards. The first person to crack and run made it all the easier for the rest to do the same.

The 36th cleared the trees and entered an open field to the right of the gun line. They discovered they were the only regiment in line to support the guns. A line of dead and broken men lay before them. Several hundred men in uniform, not including the crews of the guns, lurked in the trees. None but the 36th stood between the enemy gathering in the distance and the only embarkation point for several miles at the landing.

The regiment marched obliquely to position itself between the gunners and the enemy forming to their front. Several hundred yards of open field separated the foes. The regiment was large, larger than any active campaign unit on the field and, but for the single color displayed in the middle by the color company, could have been mistaken for a brigade of regiments. To Robert’s estimate, Company K held seventy men, and the other companies in line seemed to have full compliments of NCOs and officers. They would need their muskets in this supreme moment of testing.

The regiment halted, and Captain Armstrong ran down the front, evening out the line in accordance with the company to the left, and then took his station at the left of the company front. In their excitement to move out from the assembly point, the regiment had not loaded weapons. Robert wondered if anyone was going to realize this in time, as the movement in the distance looked like another push up to the guns. He felt the nakedness that comes from not having another unit to anchor their right flank; there was nothing to stop a Rebel rush from rolling up the whole regiment into flight.

The gun line behind the regiment kept up its rapid fire, causing many in the rear to glance nervously over their shoulders. Were the guns elevated enough to clear their heads? Why were they taking the chance and firing over them?

Robert knew what they were thinking and called back, “They’re shelling the wood line over our heads. They know what they’re doing.”

“Load and come to the ready!” Captain Armstrong shouted, having finally realized the error of putting the 36th in harm’s way unloaded. Eight hundred ramrods clanked against cold steel to push charges home, followed by stiff attention as each man brought his musket to his side, clasping the trigger guard between thumb and forefinger and allowing the barrel to rest upon the shoulder. Soon the elephant of battle would make its terrible appearance upon the field.

“You Männer want to see das elephant? Das elephant wants to see you, too,” Gustavson shouted.

Robert gave Gustavson a fast glace and then turned to the men around him. “Just load and fire. Ignore the zip of the minié balls past your ears. Just load and fire.” He paused and then added, “Load quickly.”