Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [109]
Chamberlain turned, saw a wide dark chair, sat slowly down, thought, At least, keep your back straight.
Washburn moved some papers on his desk, studied one, said, “Professor, I have an order here from President Lincoln, requesting five new regiments of infantry. Five. We’re talking about five thousand men. General Hodsdon has already sent them fifteen regiments, but it’s not enough.”
Hodsdon said, “Professor, what do you know of the war?”
Chamberlain considered the question, said, “I know that we are fighting against a rebellion that . . . if we are not successful—”
“No, Professor, the war. The fighting.”
“I have seen newspapers, some reports.”
“Professor, what the newspapers will not tell you is that the Federal Army has shown that when it confronts the forces of the rebels, when we bring superior numbers and superior armament against an enemy that is poorly equipped, underfed, and outnumbered, we lose. The war could well have been over last July, after that mess at Bull Run, had the rebels marched on into Washington. They sent our troops scurrying back across the Potomac like a bunch of schoolchildren. We are in sad shape, Professor. I for one am pleased to accept your offer. We are in desperate need of good officers.”
Washburn said, “General, how about this? I see here . . . we have no one yet in command of the Twentieth Regiment. Professor, how would you like to be commissioned the rank of colonel and placed in command of the Twentieth Regiment? How does that sound?”
Chamberlain stood again, looked over at Hodsdon. “Well . . . Governor . . . thank you, but . . . commander? I must admit, I would have no idea how to begin. I had thought, maybe a lower position . . .”
Hodsdon leaned across the desk, pointed at something in Washburn’s papers that Chamberlain could not see, then said, “Governor, I believe the professor is correct, perhaps immediate command of a regiment may be a bit premature. As you can see, here, we have Colonel Ames arriving back here next month. I had expected to appoint him to command that regiment.”
“Hmmm, all right, yes I see.” Washburn nodded, then looked up over his glasses at Chamberlain. “Well, then, Professor. How about Lieutenant Colonel? You would serve as second in command, the Twentieth Maine Regiment, under the command of Colonel Adelbert Ames.”
Chamberlain absorbed the words “Lieutenant Colonel,” felt a bursting need to yell at the top of his lungs, run around the wide office, and he pulled himself together, knew he was smiling, could not help it.
“I am honored to serve, sir. May I ask . . . when would I—”
Hodsdon said, “You will receive orders within a few weeks. Most likely, you will report to the adjutant’s office in Portland, it’s the closest to you. This should give you enough time to arrange your personal affairs.”
Washburn stood, held out a thick hand. “Good luck, Professor. Oh . . . one piece of advice.”
“Yes, sir, please.”
“When you take command of your troops, it might be better for discipline if you’re not smiling like that.”
THE COACH ride from the capital seemed to take forever. Now he walked, and sometimes ran, from the depot, and reached his house in a panting, sweating excitement.
He stopped outside the front door, said to himself, Slow, calm down, and let his body breathe heavily. He waited a moment and then opened the front door. Inside he heard the cries of his small son, Wyllys, now barely three, and he stopped, was struck by a wave of guilt, felt that he had somehow betrayed his family. He listened to the boy, the sound echoing through the house, and then heard Fannie, saying something, trying to calm him. Chamberlain walked slowly through the house, went down the hallway, toward the sounds, reached the doorway into the children’s room and paused.
Fannie sat on the floor beside the boy, holding something, a toy, waving it toward him in a playful tease, and the boy quieted. Up on the small bed, Daisy, who was now five, watched them both, began to laugh as the crisis passed. They did not see him, and he stayed quiet, framing the