Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [197]
Around the camp, officers were working quickly, men in white masks directing the troops, digging the small signposts into the soft ground. Chamberlain moved closer, saw the troops back away, keeping their distance, and he walked around, saw the sign: DO NOT ENTER—QUARANTINE AREA.
He waved at the men. “Hello, how are you today?” and smiled, thought of the absurd bad luck. The serum could possibly have infected the entire regiment with the disease, and so, of course, they would have to stay put, together, no contact with the rest of the army until the danger was past. He stared at one man, a doctor who was waving the troops away, their work done.
Chamberlain walked over to another signpost, where a man was nailing up fence wire. “Enjoy your work, do you?” he asked.
The man looked at him, covered his mouth, said, “For the love of God, man, stay away! I got a family!”
Chamberlain turned, walked toward the tents, shook his head. If the enemy cannot kill us, he thought, the army can.
The rest of the army had begun to move, along the same roads that had swallowed them up in January. Hooker had done much for morale, for the sense that maybe—this time—it would be different. Chamberlain did not know the mission, knew the army was moving away to the northwest and that the Twentieth Maine was not going anywhere.
He had not seen Ames, who was not in camp, and he wondered if quarantines applied to the commanders. It brightened him for a moment. Maybe he could somehow just order the disease away, the privilege of rank.
He saw men on horseback approaching the edge of the camp, then dismounting, and he moved toward them. They were officers, among them a major, who stepped back. It was a reflex Chamberlain was beginning to find extremely annoying.
“Sir . . . you are Colonel Chamberlain?”
“Certainly am, Major.”
“Sir, I have a message for you . . . from Colonel Ames. Under the circumstances, Colonel . . . would you mind if I read it? I am not to cross the quarantine line, sir.”
Chamberlain nodded. “Fine, Major, read the message.”
“Thank you, sir.”
To Lieutenant Colonel J. L. Chamberlain . . . I am pleased to inform you that I have received appointment to General Meade’s command, as a staff officer. I deeply appreciate your fine work as second in command and wish to advise you unless I return, you are in command of the Twentieth Maine Regiment of Volunteers. I regret that the regiment, which has performed with consistent valor, should have been victimized by such an unfortunate turn of events. However, I have been assured that in a few short weeks the quarantine will be lifted and the regiment may return to active duty. Please assure the men that they are in my thoughts. Signed, Colonel Adelbert Ames.
“That is all, sir.”
Chamberlain nodded. “Thank you, Major. You may return to the land of the unafflicted.”
He walked toward his tent, thought, So Ames did escape. And he made certain I did not. Men were watching him, some had heard the order, and they began to gather. He stopped, stood with his hands on his hips.
One man said, “Colonel, sir, how long are we to be kept here? They’re treatin’ us like prisoners.”
Others began to speak, angry questions, and he held up his hands, said, “Please, quiet.” More men moved up, they were in a circle around him, and he saw Tom and the other officers. “The army is on the march, and we cannot go with them, not for a while. It’s as simple as that. You already know the danger, why we are behind a fence. There is simply nothing we can do about it.”
“Colonel . . . ” Ellis Spear moved forward, through the men. “I’ve been talking to . . . well, sir, the Eighty-third Pennsylvania