John Tarback had a reputation from his SEAL training as a “horse whisperer.” He grew up on a ranch in Oklahoma and loved working with horses, as horses loved working with him.
Three horse corrals were located near headquarters, each guarded by two soldiers. Conroy picked the corral farthest from the building. It contained 15 horses. Petty Officers Jordan and Lopez were tasked to handle the guards. They each fired their silenced weapons at the guards, killing them instantly. Tarback entered the enclosure and gently coaxed eight horses to the opening, one horse at a time. Cummings and Tucker brought the saddles from the small barn nearby. The saddles they used in SEAL training camp were different from the ones they found, and it took a bit of figuring to strap them correctly on the horses. The darkness didn’t help.
After saddling up, Conroy led the group in the opposite direction from the road they took to the camp. According to his map, there was another road about a half mile from their position. Petty Officer Tim Blake rode the point position in front of the group. He kept his automatic rifle at the ready as did the rest of the SEALs in case they encountered a rebel patrol.
Each of the men gave his new horse a name. Donnelly named his horse Brooklyn, in honor of his slain friend Tony Giordano.
Conroy looked at his watch. It was 0245 hours. Their uniform and horse acquisition job took only a half hour. They were 90 miles from Richmond, and they would ride for five hours before taking a break. Conroy didn’t want to risk a horse injury, so they moved along the road at a moderate pace. He estimated they would be half way to Richmond by 0730 hours. They would rest for an hour and move out at 0900 after a breakfast of MREs and a brief nap.
“We’ll take one more break between here and Richmond,” said Conroy, “and then we’ll remain on the outskirts of the city until darkness. Then we’ll tie the horses up and proceed on foot. The signal from Bradley’s radio is getting stronger, so I know we’re on the right track.”
“Okay, move out,” said Conroy.
Chapter 71
According to the plan, a drone would fly over an area north of Richmond on the afternoon of July 7. The California would be too far away from Richmond for effective radio speech transmissions. The drone radio frequency, on the other hand, enables an effective flying range of over 125 miles. The drone would locate the SEALs by a laser transmitter.
SEAL Squad Bravo continued along the road to Richmond. It was a warm day, but not oppressive, with temperatures in the low 80s.
At 1030 hours they came upon a small cavalry unit of about 25 mounted soldiers. Conroy gave a hand signal indicating to his men to enter a wooded area. Although they were wearing Confederate uniforms, Conroy wanted to avoid contact. Apparently they had not been seen, and the cavalry unit passed by without incident. Peering through the trees, Conroy took note of the pennant the lead rider carried. It was the flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, the Army of Robert E. Lee. He would transmit that information by code to the drone when it flew overhead.
A half hour later, the squad came upon a group of women walking along the road. As they passed, each of the SEALs doffed his hat and said “Mornin, Ma’am.” One of the women yelled, “When is Ole’ Bobby Lee going to march on Washington?”
“Soon enough, Ma’am,” said Conroy. “Ya’ll seen our camp have ye? We’re trying to locate the General’s headquarters, and we seem to have gotten lost.”
The woman, assuming they were just a group of soldiers trying to hook up with the main Army, said, “It’s just up ahead about two miles. More soldiers than I’ve ever seen in one place. Tents for miles to see.”
After the women were out of view, Conroy ordered the squad into the woods. “Dismount,” said Conroy.
“It seems we’ve come upon a major part of the Southern forces, none other than Robert E. Lee’s Army. Tarback, Cummings, you two stay here with the horses. The rest of us will go ahead on foot to see what we can find out.”
That woman wasn’t exaggerating, thought Conroy, as he saw the camp in the distance. It was a sea of tents. He could also see what appeared to be an ammunition dump area next to a vast artillery section.
They continued through the woods to get a better view. Conroy dictated his observations into his recorder just as he did on the first reconnaissance mission almost three months ago. “I need your eyes and ears, guys. Just tell me what you see, and don’t forget to take pictures with your phones.”
They walked through the trees to get a view of a large field. An infantry company was going through a combat drill. They were arranged in platoons of sixteen soldiers and then further spaced apart into eight man squads. Conroy was amazed how the men stood, marched and even ran shoulder to shoulder. This is the concept of the firing line, a military doctrine that lasted for centuries. By modern military analysis, the tactic was as deadly as it was dumb. The idea was to enable an officer to see a hole in the line and plug it with a fresh soldier. Their rifles were antique by twenty-first century standards, but they were not inaccurate. From what he had read, Conroy knew that those muskets now had rifling in them and could shoot a bullet with accuracy from 300 yards. From where he stood behind a tree, Conroy figured he could pick off soldiers one by one. If he had 25 other riflemen with him they could leave a pile of bodies in no time flat. But even without soldiers shooting from behind trees, a few cannons firing canister shot could shred a formation of men. That’s what happened (will happen?) in Pickett’s Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg. It all looks very brave and honorable, but it’s also stupid, thought Conroy. Where’s the honor in offering your body up to be killed.
Conroy wanted to get a better view of the ammunition and artillery area. Besides the cameras on their phones, Conroy had a Nikon camera with a telephoto lens. Conroy climbed a tree and settled on a couple of crossed branches. He had a perfect view of the artillery and the ammunition wagons. He knew the wagons carried ammo because he saw a soldier retrieve bags of gun powder from behind the door.
He did a rough count of the artillery, which was neatly parked in rows and columns. He counted 25 caissons, the two wheeled carts that transported ammunition. Each caisson carried two ammunitions chests. He also counted 50 twelve pounder howitzers and 55 twelve pounder Napoleon cannons. Looking further to his left he saw a battery of 45 twenty pounder Parrot rifles, which were cannons that had rifling in their barrels. Next to the twenty pounder Parrots were 50 ten pounder Parrots. Although these weapons may be primitive compared to the artillery Conroy was trained in, they could pack a punch.
As Conroy surveyed the enormous encampment his eyes came upon a man on a horse who Conroy recognized from countless old photographs. There he was, on his faithful horse Traveler, Robert E. Lee himself. Just as he appears in the old photos, Lee always looked as if he knew a picture or sculpture was about to be taken of him. Maybe that’s how he got his nickname, Marble Man. Conroy focused his camera, steadied it, and snapped about a dozen pictures of Lee.
After Lee went back inside his tent, Conroy returned his gaze to the artillery and ammunition carts. Including alleyways between the rows and columns of guns, Conroy estimated the area to be about the size of a football field. The ammunition carts took up about a quarter acre. This is one mother lode of ordnance, thought Conroy.