head as I walked for I was searching the very air for reasons why taking on again with the Army would be good for us brothers & not as bad as it turned out the last time.
3 days we walked & the weather was fair for September in Ohio & we slept in hayricks or under trees on the roadside. On the 3rd day we bummed a lift up on a farmer’s wagon. That farmer was a veteran soldier of an Ohio volunteer regiment himself the 34th I think & a man who after some time saw us for boys who like himself once met the Elephant of War & lived to tell of it Thank God. Truly he was a blessing him & his slow horse & cart.
“You are lucky boys,” says he. “Taking on with Uncle again. I would up & join you if it was not for the farm & the wife & children. Course if it was not for the farm & wife & children I would have no yearning to join you.”
The farmer did smile at this & tap lightly on the horse’s back with his long switch & I took note that Tom was at his ease with the man riding beside him on the buck board while I sat in back on a barrel behind them. To my eyes my brother’s face was calm with no madness or bitterness or bile brewing underneath it & I thought then that perhaps we made the right decision after all to sign on again for there was some comfort to be had at least with other men who knew what it was to fight for a living. There was comfort to be had from sharing a thread of understanding though that thread may be dipped & dyed in the gore of battle.
And as if to confirm my ruminations after some minutes of riding in silence with the cart bumping along in the rutted tracks of the Columbus road the farmer says to Tom, “The war was hard on you my friend. You must of taken that ball standing.”
Now Sir you have to understand that others almost never spoke of Tom’s face from fear of what they saw in Tom’s eyes or from kindness or both maybe & I flinched a little at the farmer’s words.
“I did,” says Tom. “Chickamauga Tennessee in ’63. Sure I was fierce pretty before that fight I was.”
I repeated his words for the farmer molding the muddle from Tom’s mouth into something the farmer could understand & the farmer smiled back & jigged the reins across the horse but there was sadness in that farmer’s smile.
“I lost my brother at Peachtree Creek. I still think to tell him things I seen or heard in town. I right forget a good deal of the time that he aint around no more.”
Tom doffed his hat & said, “We are sorry for your troubles Sir.”
The farmer gave a nod. “Thank you kindly boys.”
Well there was an understanding between us & we rode together on that wagon in a peace I feel was the last real peace we ever had in this life though I know there must of been other times I now forget at this late hour.
But God Bless him that farmer brung us the whole way to Columbus & paid us 25¢ each for to unload his wagon. He told us as well that he wished he could hire 2 strong veteran boys like ourselves but that his holding was small & there was scarce enough work on it for 1 man never mind 3.
“Uncle will fit you up nicely anyhow,” says the farmer when we were finished. “And you might get the chance to plug an Injun or 2 in the bargain.”
“Grub & kit & a wage is all we are looking for,” says Tom. “I have no mind to plug any b______ ever again for I did plug enough in the War.”
I translated my brother’s words (not even 1/2 believing them) & the farmer then shook our hands bidding us fine luck & good fortune.
After this we did what any boy who is to take on the next day as a soldier would do God Forgive Us & we spent our last few greenback dollars on whores & whiskey in several taverns on the lanes around the Columbus Recruit Depot.
Of course Sir you would be right to say that all our troubles which I am going to tell you of in