Killer Angels, The - Michael Shaara [97]
"Well, Colonel, we looked around, and there was this here stone wall, and it was comfortin', you know?"
Tom was here, well, untouched. Chamberlain opened up into a smile. Tom had a Reb officer in tow, a weary gentleman with a face of grime and sadness, of exhausted despair.
"Hey, Lawrence, want you to meet this fella from Alabama. Cap'n Hawkins, want you to meet my brother. This here's Colonel Chamberlain."
Chamberlain put out a hand. "Sir," he said. The Alabama man nodded slightly.
His voice was so low Chamberlain could hardly hear it. "Do you have some water?"
"Certainly." Chamberlain offered his own canteen. Off to the right a huge mass of prisoners: two hundred, maybe more. Most of them sitting, exhausted, heads down. Only a few men of the Regiment here, mostly Morrill's Company.
Ironic. Chamberlain thought: well, he's the only one with ammunition.
Firing was slacking beyond the hill. The charge of the 20th Maine had cleared the ground in front of the 83rd Pennsylvania; they were beginning to move down the hill, rounding up prisoners. As the Reb flank on this side fell apart and running men began to appear on the other side of the hill the attack there would break up. Yes, firing was less.
He heard whoops and hollers, felt a grin break out as if stepping into lovely sunshine. We did it, by God.
The Alabama man was sitting down. Chamberlain let him alone. Kilrain. Looked.
Where? He moved painfully back up the rocks toward the position from which they had charged. Hip stiffening badly. Old Kilrain. Unhurtable.
He saw Kilrain from a distance. He was sitting on a rock, head back against a tree, arm black with streaked blood. But all right, all right, head bobbing bareheaded like a lively mossy white rock. Ruel Thomas was with him, and Tozier, working on the arm. Chamberlain bounded and slipped on wet rocks, forgetting his hurts, his throat stuffed. He knelt.
They had peeled back the shirt and the arm was whitely soft where they had cleaned it and there was a mess around the shoulder. Great round muscle: strong old man. Chamberlain grinned, giggled, wiped his face.
"Buster? How you doin'? You old mick."
Kilrain peered at him vaguely cheerily. His face had a linen softness.
"They couldn't seem hardly to miss," he said regretfully, apologizing. "Twice, would you believe. For the love of Mary. Twicet."
He snorted, gloomed, looked up into Chamberlain's eyes and blinked.
"And how are you. Colonel darlin'? This fine day?"
Chamberlain nodded, grinning foolishly. There was a tight long silent moment.
Chamberlain felt a thickness all through his chest. It was like coming back to your father, having done something fine, and your father knows it, and you can see the knowledge in his eyes, and you are both too proud to speak of it. But he knows. Kilrain looked away. He tried to move bloody fingers.
"In the armpit," he gloomed forlornly. "For the love of God. He died of his wounds. In the bloody bleedin' armpit. Ak."
To Tozier, Chamberlain said, "How is that?"
Tozier shrugged. "It's an arm."
"By God," Chamberlain said. "I think you'll live."
Kilrain blinked hazily. "Only an arm. Got to lose something, might's well be an arm. Can part with that easier than the other mechanics of nature, an thass the truth." He was blurring; he stretched his eyes. "Used to worry about that, you know? Only thing ever worried, really. Losing wrong part." His eyes closed; his voice was plaintive. "I could do with a nip right now."
"I'll see what I can do."
"You do pretty good." Kilrain blinked, peered, looking for him.
"Colonel?"
"Right here."
"The army was blessed..." But he ran out of breath, closed his eyes.
"You take it easy."
"Want you to know. Just in case. That I have never served..."He paused to breathe, put out the bloody hand, looked into Chamberlain's eyes. "Never served under a better man. Want you to know. Want to thank you, sir."
Chamberlain nodded. Kilrain closed his eyes. His face began to relax; his skin was very pale. Chamberlain held the great cold hand. Chamberlain said, "Let me go round