Fort Donelson - February 1862 - 19,455 casualties.
Shilo - April 1862 - 23,741
Manassas, Second Battle - August 1862 - 25,251
Antietam - September 1862 - 26,134
Stone’s River - December 1862 - 24,645
Chancellorsville - May 1863 - 30,099
Gettysburg - July 1863 - 51,112
Chickamauga - September 1863 - 34,624
Spotsylvania - May 1864 - 27,399
Wilderness - May 1864 - 25,416
He looked up from his notes. “Gentlemen, now I’m going to read the total casualties of the Civil War: All told, there were approximately 620,000 total casualties on both sides. Recent studies indicate that the total may be closer to 800,000. The next four years are going to be Hell on earth.”
Wells, Farragut, and Roebling sat, ashen faced. They said nothing.
Gideon Wells then put his face in his hands and wept.
Chapter 17
Bradley seethed. Why wasn’t I invited to meet with the Union leaders in the Captain’s office? I’m second in command, and who does she invite but a chaplain and a brand new officer. Did I spend 24 years in this Navy to be treated like shit? Dashing Ashley is in over her head as usual. I know every inch of this goddam ship and she brings in the rookies.
Bradley was heading to his office when he saw Chief Petty Officer Albert Ray walking toward him. Ray, the Chief Gunnery Mate, worked directly under the command of Lt. Cmdr. Andrea Rubin, the Weapons Officer. Bradley had known Chief Ray for years, going back to his drinking days. They had closed many a bar together. He was happy that Ray was on the California. The two men had a natural feel for each other. They both considered themselves “old South,” he from Louisiana and Ray from Alabama. They both shared views on various subjects, especially race, that were anachronisms in 2013 America. Bradley didn’t like black people but kept his views to himself, although he couldn’t recall what he may have said during long evenings on a barstool. Chief Ray’s feelings for black people were more direct: he hated blacks with a deep, brooding contempt. He hated black people generally and Captain Ashley Patterson in particular. Like Bradley, he saw this young woman’s rise to the command of a Navy ship as a politically correct bow from the top brass because she was a darling of the media.
“Good morning, Chief,” Bradley said to his old friend.
“Good morning, Sir, and how are you doing?” Ray asked. Word gets around fast on a ship, and Ray had heard that the visitors from the Union were being entertained without the presence of the XO. “I guess our fine captain figures she can do without your knowledge and experience, Commander,” said Ray.
“Let’s have a cup of coffee in my office,” said Bradley. He escorted Ray in, and closed the door behind him.
Bradley knew that he couldn’t pull off his idea of defecting to the Confederacy without help. The man sitting across from him just may be that help.
Chief Albert Ray, 43 years-old, balding and overweight, had once been a member of a Ku Klux Klan klavern in his hometown in Alabama. He had even risen to the exalted position of Grand Cyclops, the leader of his group. He had been in the Navy for 21 years. His job, as Chief Gunners Mate, was to oversee the condition and readiness of all weapons on the ship. He answered to Lt. Commander Andrea Rubin, the ship’s Weapons Officer. He hated reporting to a woman although he hid his contempt.
“What bothers me, my old friend, is that it’s easy to figure out what’s going to happen,” said Bradley. “Captain Patterson, or Dashing Ashley as I call her, is meeting with Lincoln’s Navy Secretary at this very moment.”
“It’s obvious that she’s going to offer this ship to fight against the South,” Bradley said. “Even if she doesn’t, the Secretary of the Navy has the power to simply order it so. Let’s face it, since we find ourselves in 1861, the California is a Union ship. With the California thrown into the fight, the South won’t have a prayer. The fire power on this one ship can turn the tide of any engagement. They’ll probably surrender after the first battle, and the Confederacy will come to an end almost as soon as it began. Slavery will be abolished within months, without time for Southern plantation owners to make a transition away from it. Slavery’s an institution that can’t be undone overnight. Besides, slave owners paid fair and square, and the slaves are their private property.” Bradley looked intently at Ray, trying to judge his reaction.
“I hear you loud ‘n clear Commander,” said Ray. ” Abe Lincoln shoved his foot up Ole Dixie’s ass. The South just wanted to be left alone. Fuck’n Yankees just couldn’t let all be well. They had to tell us what to do and how to do it. Makes you wish you could do sumpin about it.”
Bradley sensed the beginning of an alliance.
“You know, Chief,” said Bradley, “the people who fought for the South were called rebels. The ones who once served in the Northern military were even called traitors. But some people, like you and me, know that they were patriots fighting for their homeland. They were willing to fight and die for a just cause. Best example is Robert E. Lee himself.”
“So now that we’re here,” said Chief Ray, “the South gets fucked all over again.”
“Well, let’s think about that,” said Bradley. “When the SEALs were snooping around in Charleston they heard a lot of talk about a mysterious Gray Ship. Obviously that’s us, the California. I imagine the Confederate command, both Army and Navy, must be very nervous. They’re probably thinking the North has come up with a big new secret invention. Wouldn’t it be interesting if the Confederacy had some inside information about the California, including her vulnerabilities? Wouldn’t it also be interesting if they had some modern weapons to level the playing field? Wouldn’t it be interesting if the South had, oh, I don’t know, some rocket propelled grenades, night vision goggles, automatic carbines, surface to air, and anti-ship missiles? Wouldn’t it be interesting?”
Chief Ray moved closer, lowered his voice and said, “That would be very interesting indeed, Commander.”
Chapter 18
Captain Patterson called SEAL Petty Officer Pete Campo to the bridge. “Petty Officer Campo, I understand that a Seaman Planck has signed up for your class.”
“Yes Ma’am. I saw his name on the roster this morning. I start a new beginner’s class tomorrow and he’ll be there.”
“Let me tell you a few things about Planck. You’ll see that he’s tall, gangly, probably best described as gawky. And he’s got a problem.”
“What’s that Captain?”
“A lot of his shipmates are making his life miserable, picking on him constantly and generally bullying him, all because of his appearance. He’s what I call a ‘bully magnet.’ He needs confidence training and physical conditioning. I’m not looking for you to turn him into a SEAL, just a confident human being.” She focused her eyes directly into Campo’s and said, “Pete, I want you to pay special attention to this kid. He’s a good crewmember, and I want him to be a better person. Can I count on you?”
“Captain, give me a month and you won’t recognize this sailor.”
Chapter 19
Secretary Wells was still thinking about the horrible casualty statistics that Father Rick had described. Like everyone in command in the North, he had expected a short war. With the industrial strength transportation and communications of the Northern states, the Confederate administration would soon see that continued secession, not to mention war, would be futile. When the Erie Canal opened in New York State in 1825, it created a vast commercial network from Lake Erie to the Atlantic Ocean, building an industrial infrastructure the South could only envy. But, Wells thought, if the people on this ship are correct and they can tell him what the future holds, he would have to rethink everything about the Civil War, and so would Abraham Lincoln.