Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume VI, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1860s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the sixth in a series. The books are available from Lintern for $25 a set, tax and shipping included. Each book is about 120 pages written for intermediate readers (4th grade) with local illustrations. Volume I is Amelia Changes Her Tune. Volume II is Isaac and Wolf Paw Find Their Home. Volume III is Autumn Keeps Her Secret. Volume IV is Mr. Gamble Starts a School. Volume V is Jacob Blows his Horn.
May 15, 1862
Dearest Mama;
We have encountered the enemy, our first battle. I am happy to say we all came through unscathed, although it is safe to say that we were not prepared for the sights, the sounds, or even the smells.
I have never heard anything louder, seen anything more terrifying and smelled anything more acrid and rancid than that battlefield.
It started out a beautiful and pleasant day. It ended a nightmare, even though we were victors. Mama, dear Mama, I don’t want you sad or worried for us. I just want you to know that what we are going through will never leave us.
We will just march through the valley of the shadow of death and try to fear no evil. We follow orders, we serve a cause, we are not in control of our lives, and there is nothing glorious about what happens on the battlefield.
Continue to pray for us. We long for our return to you.
Your affectionate son, Philip.
Cassie was not prepared for what met her at the Gettysburg train station. The building looked normal, with no damage at all, it seemed. The town was rather quiet, with fewer horses even than she would have expected, and if it weren’t for the crowd of people getting off the train, all would have sounded calm.
But the smell. Oh, Lord, the smell.
Cassie felt her stomach turn the moment she stepped out. It was like nothing she had smelled before. It was a mixture of pine tree smoke that just filled the nostrils, and hair that just singed off your arm, and a rotten bloated groundhog just as it explodes in the sun, a bloody steak that was accidentally left on a rock in the hot sun.
Mixed in with a latrine, a stagnant pond and boys when they don’t bathe.
It was the worst and most overwhelming smell she had ever experienced.
Does Mama notice?
“O Lord, give us the strength to do this,” Mama said to herself and so that Cassie could hear.
Everyone around Cassie was reacting in much the same way. They were trying to be strong, but they were all thinking the same thing.
How does anyone survive this?
Mama asked in the station about how to look for Capt. Costin.
Someone suggested a bombed out house on Cemetery Ridge, where army officials seemed to be keeping records. They started walking in the direction given.
“Maybe we could get a horse or carriage,” Cassie suggested.
“I don’t think there are any horses available, at least that are still standing,” Mama said sadly.
It was then that Cassie started noticing the piles of dead horses lying everywhere. Two here, four there, one in the creekbed, one behind that tree.
Dead for a week, oh my stomach.
Mama reached in her satchel and pulled out a little jar.
“Here is some camphor. Hold it to your nose; it will deaden the smell.”
But it won’t deaden the sight.
They walked to the building. Several tents were set up to one side. A long line of people stood outside the door of the building.
They’re all here for the same reason we are.
While she was standing in line, Cassie looked toward the tents and saw several large canvas bags, as she looked closer, she saw something sticking out.
A hand! And there’s a foot! The bags are full of arms and legs! Oh please let this be a bad dream!
“Mama, I don’t think I can do this,” Cassie blurted out, starting to cry.
She fell into Mama’s arms.
Mama caught her, hugged her, and said nothing.
Tears fell on Cassie’s arms.
Mama’s crying, too. She can’t talk. What have we gotten ourselves into?
“We must do this, child. I wish there were another way. We have to do this for John, for Mrs. Costin. Ask God for strength. Anything if it will help. The two caught their composure by the time they reached the desk.
“Captain Costin. John Costin,” the officer said as he looked through lists that had been written by one of dozens of clerks trying to keep up with the paper work.
Finally, he located the Captain.
“Ma’am, you can find him at E hospital down the hill from here, toward town, if he hasn’t been shipped out to an army rehab center in another city or relocated to another wing. If you don’t find him, ask, someone can tell you.”
They hurried out of the building and down the hill. The shadows were growing long and they did not want to spend the night not knowing where he was.
They passed A Hospital, B Hospital, C Hospital, and didn’t seem to worry that they didn’t see a D Hospital, because Cassie spotted the E Hospital and ran to the entrance.
Wait for Mama.
Cassie was glad she did, because the site inside was another hard one to experience. There was groaning, blood-soaked bandages and an aroma that was a mixture of everything no one wants to smell.
“We’re looking in on Captain Costin.” Mama said to the orderly.
“Costin. Costin,” he said looking at a list. “Here it is, bed 12. Down there on the left.”
Cassie looked. There’s the bed. As they neared, something didn’t seem right. He’s all wrapped up!
“Ma’am? Ma’am?” the orderly was calling from behind her. “I’m sorry Ma’am. I just realized. You are too late. “Captain Costin is dead.”
Cassie heard nothing more.
