everything. Bet you can’t do it again.’
Henry says, ‘Why do they put so many flaps a man’s got to open between him and his Secesh pills?’
‘Secesh pills?’ Jeremiah asks.
‘Yeah,’ Henry laughs. ‘You ain’t heard how we’re going to give those Secessionists their medicine?’
Henry keeps laughing, but Jeremiah don’t.
‘You getting cold feet now, Jeremiah?’ Henry asks. ‘Didn’t you hear Will?’
‘It ain’t that—’
‘Good, cause you’d have some explaining to do after marrying a girl like Rosetta! She’s meaner than any Secesh!’ Henry slaps his thigh and Jeremiah laughs. I grit my teeth and finger the edge of the cartridge box flap until I can’t even feel its coarse stitches.
When all of us have a rifle in our hands and our two Companies are back in rows, Captain looks us over. Then he waves his hand and Sergeant Ames and Sergeant Fitzpatrick step to the front and side, bringing their muskets with them. Ames stands holding the barrel of his rifle and resting its butt on the ground between his legs.
‘Company, Loading, Nine Times!’ Captain yells.
The ripple going through the rest of the soldiers tells me those words don’t mean a thing to any of them either. There is a long pause, until we see the only thing to do is move our rifles to look like how Sergeant Ames is holding his. I hold the cold barrel in my hands, that rifle so long it comes up past my shoulder.
Somebody kicks my heel. When I sneak a look over my shoulder, it is Henry.
‘Sure you can handle a big rifle like that?’ he says.
Before I can say something smart, Captain yells, ‘Load!’ and I snapfrontward to see Sergeant Ames moving his musket to his left hand and opening his cartridge box with his right. I can’t find the latch to my cartridge box and already Captain is yelling, ‘Handle Cartridge!’ and ‘Tear Cartridge!’ and Sergeant is putting the cartridges in his mouth and tearing the top off with his teeth. The ptuh! of boys spitting is all around me before the dry paper and bitter taste is in my mouth. I spit the paper out to the left side and Henry kicks the back of my heel again.
‘Charge Cartridge!’
‘Captain!’ Hiram yells, and a scowl settles on Captain’s face.
‘Private Binhimer,’ Captain says, ‘your OUTBURST is UNWELCOME!’
‘Captain, Sir. Are we shooting blanks?’
Captain marches along our left flank until he comes to Hiram’s row. When he stops in front of Hiram, I am surprised to see Captain is taller.
‘You think we have Minie balls to WASTE so the LIKES of YOU can LEARN TO SHOOT?’ Captain yells into Hiram’s face, and I wonder if Captain has been paying mind to Hiram and his big talk.
Hiram don’t even move. ‘Sir, no, Sir.’
When Captain snaps himself around and struts off, I try pouring powder into the barrel of my rifle the way Sergeant Ames looks to have done. Only I can’t even see the top or the hole I’m pouring into and as soon as Captain is back to the front, the orders keep coming. ‘Draw Rammer!’ ‘Ram Cartridge!’ ‘Return Rammer!’ All around is the metal scraping sound of knife sharpening and sword drawing as we pull our ramrods from their holders, shove them down the barrels, and sheathe them again.
‘Prime Cartridge!’ he yells.
I am still fumbling with my cap box while there’s men all around me hoisting their rifles and the murdering ratchet of hammers being half cocked, and behind me Henry says, ‘This ain’t no place for a woman!’
I wonder why Jeremiah don’t say anything, if he is ever going to say one word on my account again. His eyes are narrow like all he is seeing is Rebels, and if anyone is going to show Henry he’s wrong it has got to be me.
Captain orders the first row of soldiers forward. The noise is a sharpcrack and rumbling echo and then there is just the smoke from the guns drifting up and away in the wind.
Then we step forward, Jeremiah to my left and Jimmy to my right, like we’ve practiced. I
Henry says, ‘Why do they put so many flaps a man’s got to open between him and his Secesh pills?’
‘Secesh pills?’ Jeremiah asks.
‘Yeah,’ Henry laughs. ‘You ain’t heard how we’re going to give those Secessionists their medicine?’
Henry keeps laughing, but Jeremiah don’t.
‘You getting cold feet now, Jeremiah?’ Henry asks. ‘Didn’t you hear Will?’
‘It ain’t that—’
‘Good, cause you’d have some explaining to do after marrying a girl like Rosetta! She’s meaner than any Secesh!’ Henry slaps his thigh and Jeremiah laughs. I grit my teeth and finger the edge of the cartridge box flap until I can’t even feel its coarse stitches.
When all of us have a rifle in our hands and our two Companies are back in rows, Captain looks us over. Then he waves his hand and Sergeant Ames and Sergeant Fitzpatrick step to the front and side, bringing their muskets with them. Ames stands holding the barrel of his rifle and resting its butt on the ground between his legs.
‘Company, Loading, Nine Times!’ Captain yells.
The ripple going through the rest of the soldiers tells me those words don’t mean a thing to any of them either. There is a long pause, until we see the only thing to do is move our rifles to look like how Sergeant Ames is holding his. I hold the cold barrel in my hands, that rifle so long it comes up past my shoulder.
Somebody kicks my heel. When I sneak a look over my shoulder, it is Henry.
‘Sure you can handle a big rifle like that?’ he says.
Before I can say something smart, Captain yells, ‘Load!’ and I snapfrontward to see Sergeant Ames moving his musket to his left hand and opening his cartridge box with his right. I can’t find the latch to my cartridge box and already Captain is yelling, ‘Handle Cartridge!’ and ‘Tear Cartridge!’ and Sergeant is putting the cartridges in his mouth and tearing the top off with his teeth. The ptuh! of boys spitting is all around me before the dry paper and bitter taste is in my mouth. I spit the paper out to the left side and Henry kicks the back of my heel again.
‘Charge Cartridge!’
‘Captain!’ Hiram yells, and a scowl settles on Captain’s face.
‘Private Binhimer,’ Captain says, ‘your OUTBURST is UNWELCOME!’
‘Captain, Sir. Are we shooting blanks?’
Captain marches along our left flank until he comes to Hiram’s row. When he stops in front of Hiram, I am surprised to see Captain is taller.
‘You think we have Minie balls to WASTE so the LIKES of YOU can LEARN TO SHOOT?’ Captain yells into Hiram’s face, and I wonder if Captain has been paying mind to Hiram and his big talk.
Hiram don’t even move. ‘Sir, no, Sir.’
When Captain snaps himself around and struts off, I try pouring powder into the barrel of my rifle the way Sergeant Ames looks to have done. Only I can’t even see the top or the hole I’m pouring into and as soon as Captain is back to the front, the orders keep coming. ‘Draw Rammer!’ ‘Ram Cartridge!’ ‘Return Rammer!’ All around is the metal scraping sound of knife sharpening and sword drawing as we pull our ramrods from their holders, shove them down the barrels, and sheathe them again.
‘Prime Cartridge!’ he yells.
I am still fumbling with my cap box while there’s men all around me hoisting their rifles and the murdering ratchet of hammers being half cocked, and behind me Henry says, ‘This ain’t no place for a woman!’
I wonder why Jeremiah don’t say anything, if he is ever going to say one word on my account again. His eyes are narrow like all he is seeing is Rebels, and if anyone is going to show Henry he’s wrong it has got to be me.
Captain orders the first row of soldiers forward. The noise is a sharpcrack and rumbling echo and then there is just the smoke from the guns drifting up and away in the wind.
Then we step forward, Jeremiah to my left and Jimmy to my right, like we’ve practiced. I
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