Fire by Night

  “What was that explosion?” one of them asked.

  “I’m not sure, but now they’re firing mortars,” Julia said. “That means the casualties will start to pour in soon. I’m going over to meet the ambulance train.”

  For the next hour, Julia worked in the medical supply tent with the other nurses, making sure they had plenty of tourniquets, bandages, morphine, and iodine, along with buckets of water and sponges. She heard the deep murmur of men’s voices in the surgical tents as the physicians prepared to operate, making sure all their instruments and supplies of ether and chloroform were ready. In the distance, the sounds of battle grew louder and more intense. There was little Julia could do once everything was unpacked except brace herself for what she was about to face. She stood outside near the railroad tracks, watching as the distant pall of smoke turned the dawning sun fire-red.

  “Hello, Mrs. Hoffman.”

  Julia recognized the sound of James McGrath’s voice before she turned to face him. He had stepped up beside her as she’d watched the sunrise. His auburn hair was sleep-tousled, and he was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt in preparation. Julia’s heart sped up as she recalled his touch. His kiss was still a vivid memory after all this time. It had been a year since she’d last seen him in Gettysburg, but the strength of her reaction to him surprised her. She quickly looked away, ashamed once again. She should not have such feelings for a married man.

  “Hello, Doctor,” she said softly.

  “You’re the last person in the world I ever expected to see working here.”

  “I know. I’m surprised to be here myself. I kept reading in the papers how there was such a great need for nurses, and I …I couldn’t seem to stay away.” He stood close to her. Her heart continued to race.

  “Look at that sky,” he said after a moment. He pointed to the horizon, where it appeared that the sun had set the clouds aflame. Julia thought of the night he had shown her the sky in Fredericksburg, and she shivered.

  “Have you ever read the book of Revelation, Mrs. Hoffman? These past few months I’ve wondered if the Apocalypse has finally come—the terrible fury of the wrath of God, unleashed.” He exhaled, and when he spoke again his voice was husky with emotion. “I’ve watched General Grant sacrifice fifty thousand men since spring. Fifty thousand! That’s half as many as the entire Union army lost in the prior three years. I’m not sure I can watch it much longer.”

  “I know. The newspapers are calling Grant a butcher,” Julia said.

  “And they’re calling me a butcher for sending so many men home with missing arms and legs—as if I enjoyed this work.”

  She was alarmed to hear how depressed and discouraged he sounded—and today’s work hadn’t even begun. She could hear the ambulance train approaching, bringing in the day’s first casualties, and she knew that James would have to begin his grueling task of amputating limbs very soon.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been home?” she asked softly. “Maybe you should take a leave of absence and go be with your family for a little while.”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he said, “I know why you came back. It’s because this war has changed us. We’re no longer the same people we were before it began. It’s as if we’re forever drawn toward death—trying to stop it, trying to change the outcome somehow. … Only we can’t.”

  The despair in his voice alarmed her. She groped for words, desperate to say something to comfort him. “James, listen. Death is in God’s hands, not yours. It’s up to Him to decide who will die today and who will live. But life is in our hands. It’s His gift to us. He wants us to enjoy it, celebrate it, treat it as a treasured gift for as long as we have it and never ever take it for granted. You’re right, the war has changed me. It’s taught me that I must live as gratefully and as unselfishly as I can until the day I die. That’s why you should go home and live as—”

  “You’re here for unselfish reasons?” he asked. “Is that why you decided to become a nurse?”

  “No, not at first,” she said, remembering. “Your original opinion of me was quite accurate, I’m sorry to say. I was a spoiled rich girl trying to prove something when I first came toWashington. But I’ve learned a lot since then. At Gettysburg—”

  “You were there?”

  “Yes.” Julia recalled the afternoon she had taken care of him, and for a moment the memory left her shaken. James hadn’t been wearing his wedding ring. She instinctively glanced at his hands, looking for it now, but he had his arms folded across his chest, his hands hidden.

  “Until Gettysburg,” she continued, “I was working for the wrong reasons. At first it was to prove myself worthy in someone’s eyes. Later it was out of guilt, trying to find atonement in God’s eyes. But atonement is free, never earned. And I’ve learned that the only person I need to please with my life is God.”

  She could no longer be heard above the clamoring locomotive as it rumbled up to the hospital’s siding in a cloud of steam. As soon as it halted, the orderlies rushed forward to empty the flatcars, which were loaded with blue-uniformed bodies. Neither Julia nor James moved.

  “Maybe this is the Apocalypse,” she said, and James bent slightly closer to hear her above the noise. “But as my …my minister said, we need to ask God how He wants us to live in the times He has appointed for us. If we work with Him, using the gifts and the strength He provides, then we’ll help build His kingdom, for His glory, here on earth. And that’s really the only thing that matters.”

  James was quiet for a long moment. “Julia,” he finally said, “does your husband know you’re down here?”

  She looked up at him. Their eyes met for the first time. “I need to tell you the truth, James,” she said, her heart racing faster. “I’m not married. I lied when I came to Washington because it was the only way anyone would ever hire me as a nurse.”

  He stared speechlessly, a thousand questions in his eyes.

  “Robert Hoffman is my cousin,” she said. “It was convenient to use his name. After I returned home, I became engaged to a man who I’ve known for several years, but he wanted me to give up nursing …and our engagement ended when I came back here to work.”

  James gripped her shoulders with both hands as if he needed to steady himself. “You aren’t married?”

  “Dr. McGrath!” someone shouted, interrupting. “Over here! Hurry!”

  “No, I’m not,” Julia said. “I’m sorry that I lied to you. Please forgive me.”

  She watched him carefully for his reaction, but his features showed only shock as he continued to stare at her. His grip hurt her arms.

  “Dr. McGrath!” the man shouted a second time. “Please!”

  Without another word, James released her and hurried away to attend his first patient.

  As Phoebe talked to the steady stream of patients who poured into the hospital, she gradually learned the story of what had caused the thunderous explosion she’d heard early that morning. Union soldiers had dug a five-hundred-foot tunnel beneath Rebel lines and packed it with tons of gunpowder, trying to blast through a Confederate stronghold. When the fuse was lit, it tore a huge hole in the earth, leaving a crater more than two hundred feet long, sixty feet wide, and thirty feet deep. Union troops had rushed forward into the breach, but with no way to scale the wall on the other side they became easy targets for the Rebels. Thousands more Yankees fell as they tried to rescue their comrades.

  Phoebe worked all day, meeting trainload after trainload of wounded men. Late that afternoon as the orderlies lifted one more stretcher from the flatcar and laid yet another dying soldier on the ground in front of her, Phoebe suddenly confronted the horror she had long feared. She stared down at the face she had searched thousands of faces to find. The bloody, badly injured man was Ted.

  “No …Oh, please, God…” she begged as she sank to the ground beside him. “Not Ted. … Please …not him.” This was just a terrible dream, and she would soon wake up. Better never to see Ted’s face again than to se
e him like this. But she wasn’t dreaming.

  Ted was groggy and only half conscious, moaning with pain. Shock had turned his face ash gray. Phoebe ripped his torn pant leg and saw that a shell had shattered his right leg, severing it nearly in half. She could barely see through her tears as she tightened the tourniquet on his thigh and poured powdered morphine onto the raw wound.

  “Come on, Ted. Hang in there,” she begged as she bathed his face with cool water. “Stay with me …stay awake. Come on, you ain’t gonna die on me now.” His eyes fluttered open and she saw him struggling to stay conscious, to focus on her. He was studying her. “You ain’t seeing things, Ted. It’s me.”

  “Ike?What are you…? I thought you…”

  She took his hand, squeezing it. “No, I’m alive. I’m a nurse now. I’m gonna get you all fixed up. There’s this doctor I know, the one who saved my life. I’m gonna get him to help you, Ted. You’re gonna make it.”

  “I know it’s bad. I saw my leg. … ” His entire body started to tremble even though sweat poured off him. His tawny brown skin was as pale as a corpse’s.

  “You’re gonna live!” she shouted. “Hang it all, Ted, listen to me!”

  “Hey, don’t cry.”

  “I’m a girl!” she sobbed. “And girls can cry all they want to!” She released his hand and leaped up, running blindly toward the surgical tent to find Dr. McGrath. Her body shook nearly as badly as Ted’s, making her movements clumsy and awkward.

  The surgeons were operating outside on trestle tables. Phoebe didn’t care how gory the scene was or whether she was interrupting the doctor or not as she called out to him.

  “Dr. McGrath! Please, you gotta come help my friend Ted. He needs help right away, and I want you to operate. Please!

  ” He glanced up at her and nodded, then bent over his patient again, tying a suture. “You can finish with this,” James told the other doctor. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What? Wait!” the man sputtered. “James, you can’t leave! Come back!”

  James ignored him. “Show me where he is, Phoebe.” He hurried to keep up with her as they jogged back to where she’d left Ted.

  “Don’t let him die,” she begged when they reached his side. “I know you couldn’t help my brother Willard, but you got to save Ted! You got to!” She started to kneel beside Ted again, but Dr. McGrath stopped her.

  “Is this the man you’re in love with?” he asked softly. She nodded. The doctor looked away for a long moment, his eyes closed. “Dear God,” he sighed. Then he crouched beside Ted to look at his leg. He gently removed Ted’s shoe to feel his toes and checked a spot near his ankle for a pulse. “How are you doing, son?” he asked as he worked.

  “Not so good. … ” Ted shuddered. “You can’t save my leg, can you.”

  The doctor met Ted’s gaze. “No. I’m sorry.”

  “Then don’t waste your time on me. Go help someone else. I don’t want to go home without a leg.”

  “Ted, no!” Phoebe cried.

  “I’d rather die than be crippled. I don’t want everyone’s pity.”

  “That’s a very stupid choice,” Dr. McGrath said quietly. “And a very selfish one. What about all the people who love you? They don’t care how many legs you have. You should think about them, not yourself.”

  “Just tell me the truth,” Ted said. “Am I gonna die even if you take my leg off?”

  The doctor hesitated. “If you let me amputate there’s a chance you will recover.”

  “A chance?”

  “Yes. But if you don’t give me permission, you will die.”

  “Please listen to him, Ted,” Phoebe begged. “He’s the best doctor there is.”

  Doctor McGrath reached out to feel Ted’s forehead, his hand resting there for a moment. “Someone reminded me just this morning that life is a gift from God,” James said. “You’ve lived it well so far, fighting for what you believe in. Don’t throw it away now. Don’t commit suicide.”

  Ted closed his eyes. He was shivering uncontrollably. “All right. Just get it over with.”

  James stood and signaled to the orderlies. “This man is next.”

  Phoebe followed Dr. McGrath as he strode back toward the outdoor operating area, struggling to control her fear. “I want to help you work on him,” she said. “I want to make sure everything goes okay.”

  “I can’t allow it, Phoebe. You’re too closely involved. Besides, you’re shaking like a leaf.” He glanced around the crowded rail yard and spotted Julia. “Mrs. Hoffman, come here, please,” he called. When Julia hurried over he said, “Stay with Phoebe while I operate on her friend. Keep her away from here.”

  Phoebe heard Ted cry out, “Oh, God! Oh, God!” as they moved him onto the operating table, his injured leg dangling. She broke down completely in Julia’s arms, sobbing.

  “He’s in good hands,” Julia soothed. “James is an excellent surgeon. Come on. You don’t want to watch.”

  But Phoebe couldn’t help looking over her shoulder at Ted one last time as Julia led her away. One of the doctors held the ether cone over Ted’s face. Dr. McGrath reached into his case of surgical instruments and pulled out a saw. Then the earth tilted, and Phoebe knew she was going to faint.

  “Don’t look!” Julia said. She pushed Phoebe inside the nearest tent and sat her down on an upturned barrel. She forced Phoebe’s head between her knees. “Keep it down until the dizziness passes,” she ordered.

  Gradually, the blood returned to Phoebe’s head and she could lift it. But she couldn’t stop her tears from falling or loosen the fear that gripped her heart like a fist.

  “Is that soldier someone special to you?” Julia asked as she gently rubbed Phoebe’s shoulders.

  “Yes. It’s Ted,” she said. “I …I love him.”

  Julia had tears in her eyes as she knelt in front of Phoebe and wrapped her in her arms. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  Depot Hospital

  August 1864

  Phoebe watched as Dr. McGrath examined Ted’s leg. More than a week had passed since Ted had been wounded, and he was gravely ill, lapsing in and out of delirium. When the doctor finished, he gently covered his leg with a sheet, then drew Phoebe aside.

  “He has a long way to go, as you well know,” he told her. “Right now he’s too ill to be evacuated. The movement would kill him. We’ll do what we can here to keep his fever down and fight the blood poisoning.”

  “I’ll take real good care of him,” she said.

  “I know you will.”

  As soon as the doctor left, Phoebe returned to Ted’s bedside. She dipped a sponge in water and began bathing his face to cool his fever. His eyes flickered open.

  “Hey, Ike, I’m starting to get used to you being a girl …wearing a dress …long hair.”

  “I hate fussing with it every day. I wish it was still short.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nice. It looks like the tassles from an ear of corn.”

  She tried to smile but tears filled her eyes. “That’s what all the fellas tell me.”

  He reached for her hand as she bathed his chest, covering it with his own. “Phoebe …you’re the best friend I ever had. Will you promise me something?”

  She nodded.

  “If anything happens to me, I want you to go see my ma. Take my things to her.”

  “You’re gonna make it, Ted. You’re a fighter, I know you are, and you’re gonna lick this fever just like you licked the Bailey brothers. Remember?”

  “You did most of the work.” He smiled and Phoebe’s heart squeezed painfully. How she’d missed that grin.

  “We licked them together, Ted. And we can fight this fever together, too.”

  “Take her my things. Swear?”

  Phoebe didn’t want to think about him dying, didn’t want to imagine doing what he was asking her to do. She quickly pictured a different scene instead. “When you’re all better and this war’s over, we’re gonna go to that pl
antation and find your grandmother, right? She’s a free woman now. You fought to win her freedom.”

  “It was worth losing a leg for that,” he said quietly. “Or even a life—if it comes to that.”

  “Please don’t talk that way.”

  “They have Negro regiments now,” Ted said. “Have you heard? They fought right alongside me the other day—and for the first time in my life I felt real proud of who I am and where I came from. I’m not going to hide it anymore. I don’t know if you heard, but after the battle at Antietam, where you were wounded, President Lincoln announced that when we win this war, my grandmother and all the other slaves would be set free. I know I joined up for all the wrong reasons, thinking it would be a great adventure and I’d come home a big hero. But the Lord had a much greater purpose for my life than that.”

  “I know,” Phoebe said. “I joined up because I was running away from home. But it seems like I’m doing something good now that I’m here.”

  Ted nodded. His face looked very pale. She could tell by his eyes that he was in a lot of pain. “Your leg hurting you?” she asked.

  “I don’t understand why it hurts so much if it’s gone.”

  “You need some more medicine?”

  “Not yet. Listen, I want to tell you something. … Death comes for all of us, one way or another. In the meantime, Phoebe, you have to live knowing that each day counts. And serving God each day is what makes it count. Live for His glory—whether you understand what He’s doing or not. Be faithful to Him.”

  Phoebe couldn’t speak. She looked at the man she loved through a film of tears and dreaded the thought of ever losing him again. “Please don’t die,” she whispered.

  “It isn’t up to me. But what I’m trying to tell you is …it’s all right if I do. I’ll be okay …and you will be, too.”