Secret of Richmond Manor by Gilbert L. Morris Page B

be different with me from now on.”

11
A Friend Loves at All Times
    J eff was awakened out of sound sleep by a rough hand on his shoulder.
    â€œGet up, Jeff! The regiment’s moving out—part of it anyway.” Tom was already dressed.
    Since becoming sergeant, Tom had been rough on his troops, and no less so on his own brother. At times Jeff thought Tom was even stricter on him than on anybody else.
I guess he’s got to be
, he thought,
so he won’t show favoritism
.
    He rolled out of his blankets and pulled his clothes on. It had been a warm night, and the east was already glowing with the rising of the sun.
    As Jeff put on his uniform, Sgt. Henry Mapes stopped by. He was tall and rangy, with black eyes and hair, and had seen considerable action. He had been a regular in the United States Army but left when his state seceded. “Don’t forget your drums,” he told the two boys, for Charlie Bowers too was dressing, even while blinking away sleep.
    â€œWhere we going, Sarge?” Jeff asked.
    â€œWe heard there was a breakthrough. Some of the Yankees coming in from the west—over by White Oaks Swamp bridge.”
    â€œThink it’ll be a big battle?” Charlie asked. His eyes were dull with sleep, and he yawned hugely. “Itbetter be—to get me out of a sound sleep like I was having. I dreamed I was at the circus.”
    â€œWell, you might get a chance to see the elephant today, but I don’t know what else.”
    That was what the soldiers on both sides called seeing action—“going to see the elephant.”
    Mapes hurried away, and soon the boys were beating a tattoo on their drums to rout out the sleeping troops. Then the men ate a hastily prepared breakfast and marched out with Charlie and Jeff at their head, right behind the staff officers.
    â€œThis won’t be a big fight,” Jeff said.
    â€œHow do you know?” Charlie asked.
    â€œBecause we’re not carrying extra rations. If it was going to be a big struggle, we’d get three days’ cooked rations. You know that, Charlie.”
    They left Richmond at a fast pace. Somewhere up ahead Jeff heard a cavalry troop thundering along the road, but it veered off to the west. They marched hard till noon, stopping only once to eat cold rations.
    As the men sat around resting, Tom took out a sheet of paper and a pencil and began to scribble.
    â€œWritin’ to your girl, are you, Sarge?” Curly Henson teased. The big redhead winked at Jeff. “Tell us about her, Jeff. Is she as pretty as that little gal I seen you with in town?”
    Jeff glanced at Tom, not knowing if he could take teasing or not, but Tom paid no heed. “It’s her sister, Sarah.”
    â€œWhy, that’s a right pretty name.” Henson nodded. “I had a gal named Sarah once. Law, she was as pretty as a pair of red shoes with green strings. I sure would like to be going to a pie supper with my Sarah today.”
    â€œYou won’t be going to a pie supper, I don’t reckon,” Tom looked up to say. “If we bump into Pope’s boys, it’ll be a right smart skirmish.”
    Henson shrugged. He was not a man who thought a great deal, and he returned to his former subject. “What about these two gals? How come you can get gals and the rest of us can’t?”
    Jeff bit off some hardtack. It was tough and hard, but he managed to get it down. “We’ve known ’em a long time, Curly,” he said. “Their farm was next to ours back in Kentucky. We all grew up together.”
    â€œTheir family fightin’ for the Union?”
    â€œYep, that’s right. Their brother Royal’s serving with McClellan. I guess he was somewhere in this last fight we had. Hope he didn’t get hurt.”
    Tom looked up from his writing again. “I hope so too. Royal Carter is the best friend I ever had.”
    Then the call came down the line from Captain