Miles stood and paced. He tugged at his uniform. He’d lost weight and it no longer fit properly. He would have to do something about that. Fortunately, there were some decent tailors in the force. He did not like appearing slovenly. It gave the men a bad impression. Maybe a Ulysses Grant could have gotten away with it, but not a Nelson Miles, he thought ruefully.
Miles continued. “Nor do we yet have enough ammunition, food, and other supplies to sustain a campaign. Even if we were to attack and somehow defeat the Spanish, what then? We would likely be too weak to move to Havana. No, we will stay here and demand supplies and reinforcements before we attack.”
“Perhaps Gordon will arrive,” Crook said with the hint of a sneer. Former Confederate General John Gordon was rumored to be forming a division of ex-rebels in Georgia. The men had mixed emotions about working with Gordon. Although a skilled general and a man who had been reconstructed after the war to the point where he had served in the U.S. Senate, John B. Gordon was still a rebel and old habits and hatreds died hard. Still, if he had a division, it would be well trained and equipped and ready to fight.
General Terry coughed harshly and stood up. Miles was annoyed by the interruption until he saw that Terry’s face had become pale, almost gray. Miles was suddenly concerned. “General, are you unwell?”
Terry raised his hand to say something, looked puzzled, tried to speak, and pitched forward onto the floor.
Chapter 11
With doctors treating more critical patients and with little doubt as to the severity of General Terry’s condition, it fell to Clara Barton to examine him and officially pronounce him dead. She presumed that it had been a massive and sudden heart attack and that there was nothing anybody could have done. As his body was taken by stretcher, scores of soldiers watched in solemn silence. Few men had known him well if at all, but he was one of the army’s leader and now he was gone. Within minutes the word had spread throughout the camp and the men were shaken and concerned.
“After a brief ceremony, we will bury him here,” pronounced General Miles. A small cemetery had been started and it included a number of navy and army dead. It was acknowledged that packing him in ice and shipping his body to St. Augustine was impractical at this time. When the war was over, perhaps then it would be time to send his remains back to his family in Connecticut.
Miles nodded solemnly towards the empty chair. “It may be unseemly, but we have decisions to make and they should be made promptly. I propose that General Benteen take over Terry’s division. I don’t believe we should wait for Custer or Sheridan to propose someone else and then wait for that person to actually arrive from Washington or even the frontier. Benteen knows the situation. I cannot imagine objections to an essential field promotion.”
There was no serious disagreement. They were about to fight a campaign against Spain. They could not wait on the whims of Washington. “Then who will take over Benteen’s brigade?” asked Gibbon.
“I will check with Benteen, but I rather think he will recommend Colonel Ryder. The man is skilled and experienced despite his relative youth and, alone with winning some minor battles, has gotten some excellent publicity for us, which means it is highly unlikely that Custer will even think of overruling our choice.”
There was mild surprise. Ryder was a West Pointer and Miles disliked West Pointers, a feeling that was reciprocated. It sometimes made for prickly relationships.
Crook managed a small laugh. “I can’t imagine you being worried about the ability of a very young general.”
Miles grinned and flushed. He knew he was not popular. “Sometimes younger generals are the best.”
* * *
Ryder word of his promotion had been flashed to him by heliograph from Miles’ headquarters. While he was saddened by the death of General Terry, a man who had stood beside him during some dark days, he could not help but be pleased that he was now a brevet brigadier general. Only a short while ago, such an event would have been inconceivable. However, there was a dark side to his promotion. Along with the rank came responsibility for more than twenty-five hundred men in three regiments. Along with the First Maryland he now had the Second New York and the First Delaware, all volunteer units. The New York regiment was in fairly good shape but the men from Delaware would need a lot of solid training.
The first thing he did was inform Barnes that he was now acting commander of the First Maryland Volunteers. Neither Ryder nor Barnes was totally comfortable with this, but there was no immediate alternative. The battalion commanders might grumble, but Barnes had been around Ryder enough to have at least some idea how to run a regiment. Barnes had come a long ways in the last few months, but it was folly to think that he could immediately be an effective regimental commander. Ryder firmly told him that he would be watching him carefully and would try to spend as much time as possible with him. Barnes understood.
As to the other two regiments, they were somewhat smaller and had officers with some experience leading their units. Ryder wasn’t totally confident with either man, but these were the cards he’d been dealt. Everyone seemed competent and their men were well positioned and dug in. They ought to be able to hold off a Spanish attack.
He’d just returned to his headquarters on the hill when another message ordered him to come down. General Benteen wanted to meet with him. He borrowed a horse and rode down and into the city of Matanzas. Maybe if he was lucky he’d manage to steal a few minutes with Sarah.
Benteen surprised him by having General Miles present as well. They formally expressed confidence in his abilities to handle the situation. It was good to hear although Ryder wondered if they felt they had to compliment him. They informed him that General Terry had already been buried, which didn’t surprise Ryder. There was a war on and it was very hot. His remains might be sent north in the future, assuming they could find them after a few months in Cuban ground.
Miles, who also looked so strained and gaunt that Ryder wondered about his condition, told Ryder to be on the lookout for a Spanish attack. Ryder politely said that he would and wondered just what the hell Miles though he’d been doing since taking over Mount Haney. He noticed that Benteen turned away and stifled a grin.
The meeting was mercifully short. It was still afternoon and Ryder felt he had plenty of time to be with Sarah before it became dark. He felt he should be with his men in the event of a sneak night attack by the Spanish.
Finding her proved easier than he expected. First, he saw Ruth who directed him to a house where a stern woman told him that nurses were not allowed to associate with soldiers. She softened significantly when he reminded her that he was a general. It was the first time he’d pulled rank since his promotion and she went upstairs to inform Sarah who was off duty and taking a nap.
She came downstairs a few minutes later. She was disheveled, pale, tired, mussed, and incredibly lovely. They fought the urge to embrace and went outside. There was no privacy there, either. Ruth took up position on his left. “I’m your chaperone,” she informed them happily. “Mistress Barton insisted on it.”
“Damn,” said Sarah as she squeezed Martin’s arm.
Ruth continued. “I could get you into the place where Haney and I enjoy ourselves; however, the stack of tents is not all that comfortable and the warehouse is appallingly hot in the afternoon. We always wait until it cools off at night.”
“Good planning,” Ryder said sarcastically, wondering if there was anyplace where they could find a little decent privacy.
Ruth led them to a small cottage and the three of them entered. “You cannot use the bedroom since someone else owns it. However, I feel a very strong urge to visit the kitchen and look out the window for several very long minutes. There is a lovely couch in the living room which you might find comfortable and pleasurable. You have my permission to enjoy yourselves for a few minutes. Just don’t get too carried away. I might have to interrupt you and get you out of here real fast if the owner shows up.”