Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 44

THE DOC LEADS me outside to the courtyard, where I see a dozen soldiers doin' one thing or another, and three men dressed in gray uniforms.

"Go over there and stand with them," he says. "The Colonel will be out directly."

As he starts to leave, I put my hand on his arm.

"Who're those three?"

"Johnny Rebs."

"What's that mean?"

He looks at me like I've lost my mind. "We're at war. They're rebels."

"The southern states have uniforms already?" I say.

"They do. This war's been planned a long time."

"I'm Emmett Love, Sheriff of Dodge City."

He seems a nice man. But when I tell him who I am, he says somethin' that gives me pause. What he says is, "Glad to meet you, Sheriff. I'm the Queen of England."

As I watch him walk off, I hear someone shout, "You there! Get your ass over here."

I turn to see who he's talkin' to, and it appears to be me. I walk over to him, and he tells me to stand in line with the others. He's got a gun, and several others with guns are watchin' us, so I figure the line is where I ought to be until I can straighten things out with the Colonel.

As it turns out, me and the three Johnny Rebs are in line a full hour, which puts Gentry and Rose that much further away. I'm tryin' to hold my temper because, honestly, I'm caught up in the middle of a war. As Sheriff of Dodge City, I'm exempt from soldierin', and the good news for me is, Kansas went with the Northern side, and I'm Sheriff of a Kansas town. If I'd been shot and taken to a southern fort, they might not turn me loose!

Finally, the Colonel and a Sergeant show up. The Sergeant makes us stand in a straight line. I expect them to ask us a few questions, but they ask us nothin'. Instead, the Colonel clears his throat and starts makin' a speech.

"As you men know, we're at war. Unlike wars of the past, this one pits brother against brother, father against son, and neighbor against neighbor. It's a helluva thing. And Kansas is wrapped up in it completely against our will. I don't like this war. But I'll do my duty, as I'm sworn to. What really chaps my ass is the whole damned thing could've been avoided."

He shakes his head and continues: "My people come from Tennessee. They just want to be left alone to live their lives and raise their families. Now I hear the war is headin' their way, and people I grew up with are going to die for reasons they don't even understand."

He shakes his head again. "Ain't this a helluva war?"

It is. And I'm not sure the Colonel actually said why he thinks the war was avoidable. But he's right about how almost no one really knows why they're fightin'. I mean, they're probably all told somethin' by their commanders that gets their dander up, but that don't make it accurate. Or maybe it is accurate, I don't know. But if I don't know, then they probably don't, either. What I do know, it ain't my war, and I wouldn't participate if it was. These are Americans fightin' Americans and I'd take my own life before shootin' my relatives over the color of their uniform, or over issues I don't understand. Mostly, I think those who kill each other in this war will be shootin' not because of some political cause, but because they don't want to get shot.

The Colonel continues: "This war is different in other ways. It's the first industrial war. Railroads, telegraphs, ships, steamboats, and mass-produced weapons will all play a part. And that's where you men come in. You're prisoners of war. As such, you'll work from sunup to sundown to help us get a railroad built. It's in your best interest, because the railroad will bring troops and supplies up and down the war front six times faster than troops can move on foot. There are no finer generals than the south has, and no finer troops, although we like to feel we do a damn fine job with our troops, as well. I mean, we were all on the same side a few months ago. But the railroads and factories will win this fight for the North, and the faster we build this railroad, the faster you men can get home to your loved ones."

"You'll be leaving here in an hour, and transported to the job site. It's a rotten position you're in, and I feel for you, and that's the truth. But if you keep your mouth shut and your muscles working, you'll come through this alive. You have my word."

He starts to leave, and a couple of soldiers come up behind us.

"Colonel?" I say.

He turns to look at me. "Did I just tell you to keep your mouth shut?"

"I ain't a soldier!" I say. "I'm-"

...I'm in a wagon on my back, movin' across the prairie. The three Johnny Rebs are starin' vacantly at the scenery. My head is foggy and I feel somethin' heavy on my feet. I think one of the prisoners might be sittin' on my ankles, so I sit up to complain about it, and realize I'm wearin' leg irons.