Blue Shadows Farm: A Novel

3. Limited Duty—April 1865

April 1865 Silas, his head still wrapped in bandages, sat at a little desk in the headquarters building at the Union army’s Camp New Orleans. His job was to file official-looking papers in brown folders and then carry them across the camp to another office. He did this each day, finishing by midafternoon. The rest of the day he spent in the barracks , where he rested, read newspapers, and kept track of the war. A week after the hospital dismissed him, he returned for a checkup. A nurse told him that his wound was healing nicely. A doctor , wearing a white coat, asked him a series of questions: “What is your name?” “Silas Starkweather.” “What is your rank?” “Private.” “What is your unit?” “Company F, 35th Infantry.” Silas wondered why the doctor was asking all these questions. He caught a glimpse of the paper in front of the doctor. The answers he sought were on the paper. 16 3 Limited Duty 17 Limited Duty—April 1865 “Stand up, please.” Silas did as he was asked. “Touch your right finger to your nose, then your left finger.” “Good,” the doctor said. He wrote something on the pad in front of him. “See that line on the floor?” “Yes.” “Walk down it as straight as you are able.” “Good,” the doctor said when Silas finished the task. He once more wrote something. “Stand on your left foot,” the doctor instructed. Silas could never do that, not even when he was a child and kids played games where they stood on one foot. “Try standing on your right foot.” Silas couldn’t do that either. More notes on the pad. “Do you still have headaches?” “Once in a while.” “I want to see you a week from today,” the doctor said. “If your headaches get worse, come by sooner.” “I will,” Silas said as he left the little white office and returned to his barracks. A day after the doctor’s examination, he received a note to appear at the camp commandant’s office. He was shown to a little windowless room where a man in civilian clothes sat behind a bare wooden desk. The gray-haired man, who wore a black patch over one eye, looked up when Silas entered. “Sit down, please,” the man said. His voice was firm and serious, without a southern accent. “Your name is Silas Starkweather?” “Yes.” “Your rank is private.” “If I could interrupt,” Silas said. “What is it that you want?” “Let me ask the questions,” the man said. His voice was flat, without emotion. “How were you wounded?” “I think a rebel shot me in the head. But I really didn’t see him.” “What were you doing when you were shot?” Silas explained he was accompanying a mule-drawn wagon. He did not mention that it was a secret mission and that he had volunteered for it. “What happened to the other men on the mission?” “All killed.” “How did you survive?” “I don’t know. Lucky, I guess.” “Did you see who did the shooting?” “No, I already told you that.” “How did you know they were rebels?” “Guessed they were. Who else would shoot at us?” “What did you do?” “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t see which direction the shots were coming from. It happened mighty fast.” “You don’t know for sure who shot you?” “Never saw nobody. Musta passed out after I was shot.” “Did you ever regain consciousness?” “Yeah.” “What did you see? What did you hear?” “Didn’t hear much. Quiet out there in the woods. Saw the dead soldiers layin’ there in the dust with blood leaking out of them.” “See anything else?” “Saw the dead mules. They’d been shot, too. Each one shot in the head.” “What about the wagon? Was the wagon still there?” “It was,” Silas said. “What about the wooden chest on the wagon?” 18 Limited Duty—April 1865 19 Limited Duty—April 1865 How did this fellow know about the wooden chest? This was supposed to have been a top-secret mission. “What wooden chest?” Silas asked. Now he wondered if he could trust this man with all the probing questions. “I know all about the secret mission, Private Starkweather. Just answer my questions, please.” “The chest had been broken into. It was empty.” “What do you...