They Met at Shiloh by Phillip Bryant Read Free Book Online Page B

13th Missouri surrendered to Major General Price’s Confederates along with the other regiments garrisoning Lexington, Missouri. Colonel Everette Peabody was made prisoner himself and soon exchanged. It was Peabody who had conducted several recruitment rallies in St. Louis and convinced Robert of the need to volunteer.
    Anxious that he should soon join his friend, Robert was saddened to receive a final letter from Gunther describing the amputation and hope of eventual release and discharge, but nothing further. Robert learned from his mother months later that Gunther had succumbed to diarrhea before his release. The news caused him much grief. A devoted Lutheran, Gunther would chide Robert that his Methodism wasn’t good enough to get him into God’s good graces; he needed the original Protestant faith and message to truly please the Lord. This often caused Robert to worry about grace and works and about which philosophy was right. The elder Mitchell, though desirous of absorbing as much German culture as possible, could not be driven to abandon his Wesleyan upbringing.
    The counting finished, Hammel conferred with Captain Schmitz. Robert shifted his weight from one leg to another, weary of inactivity. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Huebner chewing on his tongue, a constant action the boy engaged in when either bored or busy. His forage cap sat high upon his forehead, and his brownish hair dangled lazily under the bill. Shifting his own traps about his sack coat slightly, Robert released a long sigh and waited for the next command.
    *****
    24th Ohio Volunteers
    Savannah Road, PM April 5, 1862
    “Rest!” echoed the command of Colonel Jones.
    With relief, Philip staggered down the embankment and found a shady spot to relieve his shoulders from the weight of the knapsack. He unbuttoned his sack coat and shifted the haversack and canteen strap higher on his chest, exposing his sweat-soaked shirt to the open, cooling breeze. Plopping down heavily next to him, Sam Henderson let out a groan and allowed himself to slide comfortably down the embankment. In front of them, Theo Mueller eagerly stripped down of everything but his kersey blue trousers and undershirt with a look of ecstasy upon his face.
    Company officers conferred in the middle of the road while the men of the 24th Ohio made for whatever shade and comfort could be found along the lane. Philip was content to leave his traps on so he would not have to bother with them when the call came to form up. Theo Mueller sat down, leaned his back against the other side of the embankment, and smiled at Philip.
    “You be much cooler if you take that stuff off,” Theo told Philip.
    “I be much fine, thank you,” Philip grinned.
    “You two don’t know what you missing,” Theo persisted.
    “We’re conserving our energy for the march by not putting our traps on and off at every stop,” Sam said after he wiped his brow.
    “We catch up to Grant. Then we whip some Secesh, ja?” Theo blurted. “Secesh” was their term for the secessionists.
    “We never catch up to Grant. Even if he does stay still at Pittsburg Landing, we’re going to be marching until we’re all old and gray, always marching and marching and marching,” Philip said and closed his eyes. “Our lot in this war is to fight it with our feet stomping on all of the Secesh lice.”
    “How long we been on the move?” Sammy asked.
    “Since sun up,” Theo replied.
    “No, on this march from Nashville,” Sammy asked again, with a glare at Theo.
    “Ten of the longest days of my life,” Philip moaned.
    “Liked the roads better in Kentucky. Softer,” Sammy said as he wiggled his toes within his brogans.
    “Roads not different! Same dusty, rock-filled, ill-cared-for southern roads,” Theo complained.
    “No, there’s something different about these Tennessee roads, softer somehow. You notice how the dust is slightly different in color, a lighter brown than the dust in Kentucky. I think they