FicWad

Everyone in the unit calls him “the Goblin,” but he does not mind. Lieutenant Morrison is very young for an officer. He is nearly twenty, having gone to officer training at sixteen on a scholarship. He is very intelligent, but he is not well-liked. He is extremely quiet, and the other lieutenants get much more respect from the enlisted men, many of whom are more than twice his age. Even Captain Fitzmaurice, who is young for a captain, being only twenty-six himself, calls Lieutenant Morrison a “baby officer.” The colonel is nine months younger than Captain Fitzmaurice and never trained to be an officer, yet he has a higher rank, much to Captain Fitzmaurice’s chagrin. Captain Fitzmaurice has no family in the military, while Colonel Callahan’s father is a General. The children of officers become officers themselves, usually within only a couple of years, since they are favored over men who have no family in the military or men who are the sons of enlisted men. Lieutenant Morrison is pale with dark hair and eyes and somewhat pointed ears. His features are sharp, from his perfectly straight nose to his pointed chin, thin, angular lips, and angular eyebrows. He is fairly thin, though not particularly tall, and relies more on brains than brawn.

Lieutenant Morrison is friends with Lieutenant Coffey. They went to school together as children, and they share their predicament. Most young officers went to university before training, so they are twenty-three, not nineteen, when they arrive at their units. The sons of officers are at least twenty before they become officers themselves. A university education is not required to attend officer training, but relatively few boys have a particular desire to become army officers when they must choose a career at the age of sixteen. Those with money go to university. Those without money go into apprenticeships, join the military, or become unskilled laborers in mines and factories or on the docks. Most boys who want to become officers join as enlisted men at sixteen. They can work their way through the ranks and become officers at their commanding officer’s discretion. Most of them are at least twenty-one before they become officers. Officer training is expensive, so it is not an option for most poor boys. For Captain Fitzmaurice, the choice was made by another. Jack paid for his university education, thinking he would become a surgeon like his friend, Doctor Sparrow. Since he is afraid of needles, Jack offered him two options: law school or military officer training. He chose the latter because of his natural restlessness. In the cases of Lieutenants Morrison and Coffey, they knew from a young age that they wanted to train as officers, and they applied for the five full scholarships given out in every year. They were both lucky enough to win scholarships and received their education free of charge.

Lieutenant Coffey, though young, is not nearly as disrespected as Lieutenant Morrison is. He is sociable and amiable and often makes deals with his subordinates. Because he is generous, his subordinates behave. Because his subordinates behave, his superiors respect him. Lieutenant Morrison is somewhat different. He is more bound by rules and regulations, but he has a brilliant strategic mind. The non-commissioned officers respect his intelligence, but most of them are older than he is, so they often trust their own experience over his intelligence, to the point that they sometimes undermine his orders. Some of the corporals and privates are the same age as Lieutenants Coffey and Morrison, and they usually don’t take the two Lieutenants seriously because of their age. Lieutenants are not to fraternize with enlisted men, so they usually keep to themselves. Lieutenant Coffey is known for drinking with lieutenants and a handful of sergeants, though he never drinks much. The only time he is apart from Lieutenant Morrison is when he has his little parties. Lieutenant Morrison neither drinks nor smokes. He does not sleep with women of ill-repute or gamble on cards, dice, fights, or races. He mainly keeps to himself, preferring his own company to that of the patronizing older officers, confiding exclusively in Lieutenant Coffey. Because of his strategic intelligence and attention to details and rules, he is the next lieutenant in line to become a captain, but the Colonel worries that he is not mature enough or respected enough for some of the responsibilities that becoming a senior officer would entail. Only a captain or major can stand duty as Officer of the Day in the Colonel’s absence. Lieutenants are considered junior officers and are treated as glorified enlisted men by their superiors. The majors and captains look down upon them and regularly disregard everything they say.

The majority of the officers were enlisted men once and see the transition of the frustration of being a nom-commissioned officer with the responsibility to take care of anything and everything possible without involving any officers without having the respect or qualifications to do things to the abject misery of being a junior officer with no respect and a huge amount of responsibility as a right of passage. To most of the men, the ranks of sergeant and lieutenant are nothing more than a test to see if corporals, as mere boys, have the mettle to grow up and become senior officers and possibly eventually commanders. Most men who survive the fighting leave the army after their mandatory five years of enlistment, retiring as either corporals or sergeants. A lot of men achieve the rank of sergeant and rise no higher, even if they serve for decades. Most of the men who retire as officers retire as lieutenants, frustrated that they have been overlooked for promotion for several years.

Because Lieutenants Coffey and Morrison, like Captain Fitzmaurice, attended military college, they were lieutenants the day they graduated and joined. They must complete at least five years of service, of which they have both completed almost one. Captain Fitzmaurice has completed just over three of his mandatory years, but, since he has no other career or trade, he will likely remain in the army beyond his mandatory enlistment. It almost pains him to watch Lieutenant Morrison go through what he went through as a new and young lieutenant. The men who enlisted as privates at the age of sixteen have no trust for the few men who went to military college and became officers.

Then there is Liam, who has no education other than life experience, failed apprenticeships, and the basic literacy and etiquette that Kerrigan taught him. Despite his complete lack of formal education, he joined as an officer. It frustrates the enlisted men greatly because he has less education than most of them and is a relative outsider, not having been raised in one of the established Bridgeton families that have formed the core of the unit since its earliest days. It frustrates the junior officers because he lacks both formal military education and time spent in the unit, yet he immediately became their superior. For Liam, everyone is equal in death. Everyone needs to eat, and everyone bleeds the same color. Despite the fact that his rank is a joke among certain members of the unit, those serving directly under him know him as a competent leader who would rather tell them to retreat, risking his own rank and life, in order to prevent them from suffering unnecessary casualties in a hopeless situation, He, like Captain Fitzmaurice, sees great potential in lieutenants Morrison and Coffey.

Captain Fitzmaurice became a senior officer before he was truly ready. He ought to have been held back because of his temper and his tendency to throw whatever is at hand, from books and inkwells to shoes, helmets, and even the occasional cannon ball at walls, trees, or even men when he is frustrated. Being the youngest captain to have gone through officer training, Captain Fitzmaurice also wants either Lieutenant Morrison or Lieutenant Coffey to be promoted to take some of the focus off of his own shortcomings. Lieutenant Morrison has the rather grim distinction of being the first officer to join the unit after the war started, followed three days later by Lieutenant Coffey. When he arrived, he replaced the first officer to die in the conflict. Whether the lieutenant that Morrison replaced died because of a mistake made by Captain Fitzmaurice due to inexperience or as a result of the Captain’s famous bad luck was never questioned, but Captain Fitzmaurice feels guilty nonetheless. Either way, Lieutenant Morrison is ostracized for having replaced the first officer to die and for not having been in the unit before the war. Liam thinks this is absurd since he arrived a few weeks before Lieutenant Morrison did, though he joined the unit before the war started.

Still, most of the captains find Lieutenant Morrison to be a very strange man. He is the only member of the unit who does not drink. Some men do not smoke or chew tobacco, and many dislike the company of prostitutes for varying reasons, but they all drink. Even sixteen-year-old Private Callahan drinks. Captain Fitzmaurice did not drink when he was younger. Brendan Sparrow’s father took him and Brendan to a pub on their sixteenth birthday and let them drink as they pleased. He was a barman until shortly after his daughter was born. Lieutenants Morrison and Coffey, being in many ways similar to Captain Fitzmaurice and Doctor Sparrow, are almost like younger brothers to their Captain. When Captain Fitzmaurice first joined the unit, he did not drink either. He never thought to bring Lieutenant Morrison to town until Lieutenant Coffey told him that Lieutenant Morrison has never drank liquor.

Lieutenant Morrison grew up without a father. His only brother, who died in battle at the beginning of the summer, was a career soldier who, despite being assigned to the same unit as him, wanted nothing to do with him. He joined the army at sixteen to get away from their abusive father and was living on his own before Lieutenant Morrison was born. Lieutenant Morrison’s father beat him when he was a very small child, but he ran away with his mistress when Lieutenant Morrison was six-years-old and left the family destitute. He later ended up in prison, where he died, for murdering his mistress. Mrs. Morrison turned to prostitution to feed her son. He, like Captain Fitzmaurice, became an expert thief at a young age. His mother died of tuberculosis when he was fifteen. Lieutenant Coffey’s father gave him food and shelter so that he could finish his final year of primary schooling. Lieutenant Coffey’s mother died in childbirth, taking the baby with her, when he was five, and his father raised the children as best he could. Mr. Coffey, despite having taken Lieutenant Morrison into his home, was not his father or even a true father figure to him. Lacking a male role-model and having lost his last living relative, nobody ever gave Lieutenant Morrison his proper rite of passage into adulthood when he turned sixteen.

On a Friday evening in mid-October, Captain Fitzmaurice invites Lieutenant Morrison to town. Lieutenant Morrison declines, reminding Captain Fitzmaurice that he does not drink. Captain Fitzmaurice asks Lieutenant Morrison if he trusts him, to which the Lieutenant replies that he would trust the Captain with his life. Captain Fitzmaurice confides that he grew up fatherless as well, Mr. Fitzmaurice having died before he was born, and that he is not close with any of his family members. He promises that nothing bad will happen and orders the Lieutenant to come with him. Without a choice in the matter, Lieutenant Morrison follows Captain Fitzmaurice to town. They meet Doctor Sparrow, Lieutenant Coffey, and Captain Boland at a tavern called The Bleeding Rose. The five men sit around a table by a cheerful, roaring fire and try not to think about the war.

Liam saw one of the two lieutenants directly subordinate to him fall to the ground badly injured earlier in the afternoon. He may be joining them later in the evening when he leaves his Lieutenant’s bedside. Captain Fitzmaurice invited him and told him where they would be, but Liam had not made up his mind whether he would be drinking with them, with Jack, with Kerrigan, or alone. Captain Fitzmaurice thinks that Liam will probably drink alone. They have all seen men suffer horrific injuries, and they have all seen countless men die, however, no matter how many times they see it happen, it does not become any easier for them to deal with the sight, the smell, or the sounds of the gravely wounded and dying. Captain Fitzmaurice knows all too well that Liam is blaming himself.

To make matters worse, one of the privates committed suicide the previous night. His best friend died in battle a week earlier, and he started drinking heavily in order to cope with his loss. When the unit assembled for muster before breakfast, he was found to be missing. His tent mates said that he had not been to bed all night. His sergeant inspected his bunk and found a handwritten will under his pillow. The Colonel asked the captains to search through the forest and camp. Liam found him hanging from a tree, a rope around his grotesquely broken neck, his feet swinging in the breeze, the chair from the surgical tent laying in pieces with his left shoe amongst the fallen leaves. He was only seventeen, and his death deeply disturbed many of the younger men. Liam has seen many suicides over the years. He has seen men hang themselves in prison, jump overboard off of ships, roll under falling trees, run into collapsing mine shafts, drink poison, stab themselves, shoot themselves, and run into burning buildings. He even once saw a man hack his own left arm off with a knife. Liam has never become accustomed to such senseless violence.

“Morrison, let your Captain buy ye a drink,” says Captain Fitzmaurice.

“If ‘tis all the same, sor, I’d rather ye not, wi’ all due respect,” replies Lieutenant Morrison.

“Lieutenant, I know ye ain’t had a father or an uncle to do this for ye, an’ I know your brother ain’t done it neither ‘afore he died. ‘Tis past time, an’ I’m the closest thing to a big brother ye’ve got left. ‘Sides, tomorrow’s a Werewolvish national holiday or somethin’ like that. There won’t be no fightin’.”

“What if I get-”

“Everyone in your tent’ll be drinkin’ tonight, but if ye’re that concerned, there’s a spare cot in the Doctor’s surgery. I’m sure he’ll not mind.”

“Sleep there all ye like,” says Doctor Sparrow. “I don’t use it.”

A pretty, young barmaid walks up to the table, and, making very sure that her more-than-ample beasts are positioned directly in front of Captain Fitzmaurice’s working eye, asks in her most sweetly seductive voice, “What’ll the lot o’ ye be havin’ tonight?”

“Whiskey. Whatever your best is. Money ain’t a problem. An’ don’t water it down.” When the barmaid returns, Captain Fitzmaurice turns to her and says, “Try the lieutenants. They don’ have women, an’ why’d ye not give us the whole bottle?”

“Straight away, sor.”

“Good girl. Now, drink up, men. Yes, Morrison, that includes yourself.”

The barmaid leaves, and Lieutenant Morrison asks, “Why are ye so awful to the lady?”

“She’s no lady, Lieutenant. She’s a common whore, an’ I don’t want her thinkin’ she’ll have me in her bed tonight. I can’t believe ye’re so naïve. Ye grew up in Bridgeton, didn’t ye?”

“I did, sor.”

“Well, what’re ye waitin’ for? Drink up, an’ be thankful I’m buyin’ the drinks tonight, an’ don’ tell me ye’re a virgin too.”

“I am, sor.”

“An’ ye’ve never smoked?”

“I haven’t, sor.”

“Where do we start? See, now, everyone else is drinkin’. Try it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Ye will. Trust me. Now, try some ‘afore ‘tis gone.”

Lieutenant Morrison tries to sip slowly, but is quickly corrected by Lieutenant Coffey before Captain Fitzmaurice can say anything. Lieutenant Morrison decides quickly that he enjoys being drunk, and Captain Fitzmaurice is relieved that Lieutenant Morrison is not a violent drunk. He was worried that he would wake with both of his eyes swollen shut because he knows how Lieutenant Morrison can fight when he is angered. Lieutenant Morrison is not particularly big or strong, but he knows how to fight and win. Captain Fitzmaurice hates to admit it, but he has lost some of the flexibility and agility that he had when he was sixteen. He is bigger, stronger, and wiser, but he still runs around like he did ten years ago. He can still do so easily, but it takes a lot more out of him than it once did. He has only confided this to three people: Brian Sparrow, the only father he has ever known; Brendan Sparrow, his oldest and closest friend; and Emily Barrett, his sweetheart. He does not want to face the truth, but it is there and face it he must. William Fitzmaurice is no longer sure that he could win a fight against someone like Lieutenant Morrison, despite the fact that he is much stronger than the Lieutenant is.

After a few hours of drinking and smoking, Captain Fitzmaurice pays their tab, and they return to camp on horseback. They can hear a familiar voice swearing loudly from the other side of camp. They put their horses in the stable, and Captain Boland brings the Lieutenants back to their tent while Captain Fitzmaurice and Doctor Sparrow go to the surgical tent, which is the unlikely origin of the noise. Inside, they find Liam, who is drunk out of his mind, sitting on the ground surrounded by empty whiskey bottles and bloody carpentry tools, his hands bleeding profusely, propped up against a chair that he obviously just finished making. Captain Fitzmaurice helps Doctor Sparrow lift Liam onto the operating table, and he lights the candles to give the doctor as much light as possible. Doctor Sparrow maintains his calm demeanor even though his patient is fighting; he is exhausted and really too drunk to be performing surgery; and the lack of light is straining his eyes as he cleans the blood off of Liam’s hands. When Captain Boland arrives at the tent, Doctor Sparrow immediately sends him on an errand.

“Take the torch outside the tent. Go first to the Forty-Third North Side Bridgeton Cavalry. Find Major Considine if he’s there. He holds his liquor better’n I do, but if he’s not there or he’s too drunk, go to the Fifty-First South-Side Bridgeton Heavy Infantry. They have a civilian doctor named Kiersey. Abraham Kiersey. If he’s not about neither, there’s Lieutenant Kevin Lawless assigned to the Sixty-Eighth Whitbourne Heavy Artillery or the civilian Thomas Hayes wi’ the Seventy-Sixth Idyllwild Light Artillery. Someone ought to be sober. If, and on’y if, no one is, go to town an’ find Miss Kerrigan. She’ll at least keep him quiet, an’ I can still take away his pain, even if I can’t stitch him ‘til mornin’. Ye got all that?”

“Considine, Forty-Third. Kiersey, Fifty-First. Lawless, Sixty-Eighth. Hayes, Seventy-Sixth. If all else fails, go to town an’ find Miss Kerrigan.”

“Good. Now go. Billy, I can hold him meself for a few more minutes. Rouse Coffey an’ Morrison. They’ll still be up. Send ‘em to town to find Senatorial General Shepherd. Don’t walk. Run. I need ye back as fast as possible.”

“Should they rouse Miss Kerrigan as well?”

“No. She’s quite fond o’ Liam, an’ I don’t want to worry her. Tell ‘em to have Jack leave her a note. She worries when he’s gone. ‘Tis late. She’ll be asleep, but I know Jack ain’t been sleepin’ so good lately. He should be awake in or near the cabin drinkin’. Hurry tellin’ ‘em this. Liam’s stronger’n me, an’ I can’t hold him for long.”

Doctor Sparrow struggles to keep Liam still while Captain Fitzmaurice fetches the Lieutenants and sends them upon their way. Liam is in a drunken blind rage. His hands are too badly shredded to punch or grip anything, but his arms still work like clubs, and he is kicking and swinging wildly. On his way back to the medical tent, Captain Fitzmaurice realizes that there are no enlisted men standing watch. He runs to the Colonel’s tent and rouses him, realizing that they need his help. He rushes to the medical tent hearing the screams. Colonel Callahan knows that orders will have no effect. Doctor Sparrow has been struggling to control Liam’s wild antics. Colonel Callahan has seen men like this before. He has never seen an officer do this, but it is common enough in the bars of Bridgeton. He pounces upon Liam and holds him down by laying on top of him and wrapping his arms and legs around the operating table. He instructs Captain Fitzmaurice to sit on Liam’s feet in order to restrain him. Liam is seven inches taller than Colonel Callahan and eight inches taller than Captain Fitzmaurice and Doctor Sparrow. Despite this, he is far lighter than any of them. He is a very difficult man to restrain, and they have nothing with which to tie him down, so they must personally hold him still.

“Doctor, take inventory o’ your supplies. I believe ye’ll find somethin’s missin’,” says Colonel Callahan.

Doctor Sparrow does as he is told and replies, “I am. I’m missin’ a vial each o’ cocaine an’ opium, a bottle o’ aspirin, an’ a good deal o’ the ether. By God! He didn’t take all that, did he?”

“Aye, I’ll recon he did.”

“An’ how much does his service record say he weighs?”

“I’ll guess ten stone even. I remember sayin’ it ought to be impossible when I saw that.”

“Sounds about right…less than half the weight to take that dose…feck!”

“His father’s son to the last?”

“Speak o’ the Divil,” says Captain Fitzmaurice, who is facing the tent flap. “Lieutenants, ye’re dismissed. I don’t want ye seein’ this, ‘specially yourself Morrison.”

“Am I late?” asks Jack.

“I wanted ye here in case he dies, sor,” says Doctor Sparrow.

“What happened?”

“He took what ye take for a good time, an’ ‘twill be his death.”

“Doctor,” says Colonel Callahan. “He’s stopped breathin’. Drunk or not, he’s your patient. This ain’t a fight no more.”

Doctor Sparrow puts a tube down Liam’s throat and pushes on his chest until he breathes on his own, and, leaving the tube there, says, “That should hold him for now.”

Liam is unconscious, so there is no need to hold him down any longer. As Colonel Callahan rolls off of Liam, exhausted from the struggle, his nightshirt soaked in the blood pouring from Liam’s destroyed hands, he says, “If it makes any difference to ye, doctor, I don’t think he meant anythin’ by it.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“He’s been off in them woods drinkin’ an’ workin’ for hours. He made ye a chair to replace the one what got broke in the Private’s suicide. There’s blood all over it. He probably got drunk enough his hands started slippin’ an’ cut hisself. Ye was still in town, so he helped hisself to the aspirin. When it still hurt, he probably couldn’t remember if ‘twas cocaine or opium what kills pain, so he used both, an’ that set him off like that.”

“Makes sense. His hands need to be stitched badly, but I’m too drunk. I hope Boland gets back soon.”

“Boland?” asks the Colonel.

“I sent him to find another doctor.”

“Boland’s a fine man. Fond o’ Liam, too. Don’t ye worry. He’ll be back.”

“I hope so. Liam’s lost a lot o’ blood already. He’s unconscious, so I can’t give him blood.”

“What about intravenous blood?”

“He don’t need no more surprises, especially from the fact we’ve all been drinkin’. He don’t need nothin’ else in his system.”

“What about Morrison.”

“I got him drunk tonight,” says Captain Fitzmaurice.

“’Tis good for the boy. Good on ye, Fitzmaurice! Dcotor, I don’t want to lose Liam,” says Colonel Callahan.

“Neither do I, Colonel,” replies Doctor Sparrow. “I just hope Boland gets back soon.”

After fifteen more minutes of nervous pacing, Captain Boland returns, and he immediately apologizes for his delay, saying, “Sorry it took me so long. Considine’s drunk, but he came anyhow. Kersey’s here too, but he said he’s not up to it. He’s been operatin’ all night. Lawless got shot in the arm. Nothin’ too bad. In an’ out job. Kiersey stitched him, but he can’t do surgery neither ‘cause he can’t use that arm. He came along sayin’ the movin’ about’ll do him good. Hayes can operate. Brought Miss Kerrigan to keep Liam calm, sor.”

Kerrigan never leaves her cabin in her nightgown. When Captain Boland woke her, she read Jack’s note, saw the surgeons, and knew that it was serious. She donned her overcoat over her nightshirt, donned shoes, and rode after the men, her long hair hanging freely around her waist, wearing no makeup or corset. She lifts Liam’s head and hugs him, stroking his hair as if she were his mother. Jack puts his hand on Liam’s shoulder and silently sheds a single tear that only Kerrigan notices. Jack swears that men do no cry, that he does not cry, but he fears losing his favorite son to his own vices, his own choice of poisons. Kerrigan weeps. Doctor Hayes stitches Liam’s hands, and the doctors all go to the mess tent while they wait to take turns watching over the patient. Like all doctors, he learned to forego sleep for long periods during medical school, but the alcohol makes him tired, and he knows that he cannot wait for Liam to wake. Someone needs to monitor Liam in order to ensure that his heart and breathing do not stop again. The combination and amount of drugs he took ought to have killed him, so Doctor Sparrow is very concerned. Kerrigan is weeping and pacing, and Jack is holding Liam’s arm tightly. Colonel Callahan is standing by the tent flap with Captains Boland and Fitzmaurice. Doctor Sparrow leaves, his head hung very low, unable to stay awake any longer.

Doctor Sparrow knows Doctors Considine, Kiersey, Lawless, and Hayes from his time in medical school. After medical school, Doctors Considine and Lawless were bound to the military, which paid their way through medical school and made them officers for their guaranteed services. Doctor Hayes, like Doctor Sparrow, was given his education in exchange for a favor owed to his father, who is also a doctor. Doctor Kiersey won a full scholarship to medical school. Most of the students were wealthy, so the few who were not knew each other well. There were a few more of them in their class, but the five of them ended up assigned to nearby units. There are many civilian doctors from different cities who took the opportunity to help the army when it was offered to them. Most of them were from the less affluent minority in medical school, and nearly all of them are young. They do not have well-established practices, and the army offered them a steady income. The army did its best to place them with units from the vicinity of their native cities, so Doctors Sparrow, Hayes, and Kiersey found each other again, all being natives of the area in and around Bridgeton. They are all Anglo-Irish and close to the same age, having gone through school together.

Lieutenant Kevin Lawless is, unlike most doctors, not clean-shaven. He wears a small goatee. His hair is somewhat longer than that of most Anglo-Irish men, who tend to prefer shorter hairstyles than their Celtic neighbors. This is the influence of battle among the more wild soldiers of his heavy artillery unit, among whom there are certain badges of honor one must uphold. Lieutenant Lawless has caramel-colored hair and kind, gray eyes. He is slightly shorter than most Vampiric men and slight of build. He fights and operates in a unit where the primary weapons are the cannon, the trebuchet, and the catapult. Most of the men in his unit are large, muscular men, suited to heavy lifting and hauling, which makes him seem smaller and more delicate by contrast. This lack of physical power has kept his rank from advancing and earned him the nickname “Doctor Banshee” even though he does not have any Banshee ancestry. He has proven himself just as physically able as his larger counterparts time and time again, but every time a new soldier joins the unit, he must prove himself yet again. He is of strong constitution and has excellent composure. His even temper is slow to anger, though he has a certain amount of fire and animosity for anyone who deems him to be inferior because of his size.

Doctor Hayes is a little taller than Doctor Sparrow and has hair that is somewhere between dirty ash blond and light ash brown. His eyes are dark brown, and his skin is slightly browner than that of his colleagues, though his cheeks are quite ruddy. He spent most of the last three years trying to gain medical experience by traveling in the northern part of the country by the shore and in the western part of the country in the mountains. As soon as he returned to Bridgeton, he saw the opportunity to come to the front lines. He is unique among the men in that his wife came to Crosspoint with him. They have no children, and she accompanied him on all of his prior travels. Doctor Hayes is of somewhat heavier build than his friends, though he was quite fit through college and his first year in medical school. His wife, who has always been slightly overweight herself, is a wonderful cook, and he married her early in his second year of medical school. She has been feeding him since then. It is a joke among his old friends and colleagues that, due to his wife living in town and him living with the Seventy-Sixth Light Artillery and his running around trying to save patients, he is the thinnest he has been since he was a student, though he is still several pounds overweight. He is one of the largest men in his unit, since the majority of the soldiers are fairly small and agile, being archers by trade.

Doctor Kiersey has golden brown hair and gray-blue eyes. He has a refined manner of speech, dress, and action, which he affected in order to move amongst his wealthy patients, having joined a well-reputed established practice in District Five after his graduation from medical school. He is an expert in brain trauma, internal and external hemorrhaging, and highly infectious diseases, making him an ideal surgeon for a heavy infantry unit. Most of his civilian practice is centered around stitching cooks’ fingers when they accidentally cut themselves, delivering high-risk babies, and treating common childhood diseases. He took the chance to work for the army, despite sacrificing his civilian career to do so, because he had fallen into a state of boredom and malaise from the monotony of his work and because he felt that his skills would be put to better use serving the needs of some of the army’s most dedicated warriors. The change of surroundings is slowly causing him to lose his gentlemanly façade and return to his Bridgeton heritage.

The Doctors sit in the mess tent telling tales of their current work and of their more interesting patients as well as reminiscing about old times. Major Considine stands over Liam, watching to make sure that he has no seizures and keeps breathing. No one dares to sit in the chair Liam made. Jack stands over Liam while Kerrigan sits shaking on the spare cot in the tent. Captains Fitzmaurice and Boland return tot heir tent to tell Captains O’Dowd and McEvoy what happened to Liam. After drinking his tea, Doctor Sparrow leaves Lieutenant Lawless with Doctors Hayes and Kiersey in the mess tent, lays down, and immediately passes out. Colonel Callahan makes Kerrigan a cup of tea and wraps a rough woolen blanket around her shoulders. Her nerves are badly shaken, and she is cold and tired. Jack puts his arm around her shoulders, and she rests her head on his chest. He strokes her hair absentmindedly.

“Go back to town, Kerrigan. I’ll stay wi’ him.”

“I should remain here. I should have known. I could have prevented this had I but paid better attention.”

“There’s no way ye could’ve known. He’s me first son. I need to be here. I’m the only family he has. He needs a father. The country needs ye to stand by because me son needs me to watch over him.”

“Nobody will seek our attention this late.”

“Tomorrow’s another day for the country, but I can’t promise Liam’ll be well again.”

“Things were find when we were both in Bridgeton. Why are you trying to make me leave his side?”

“’Cause ye’re not family.”

“You are lying, Jack. That is not your reason. Tell me why you want me to leave.”

“This camp is not safe for a woman. There are a few men o’ honor here, but they are in the minority. Colonel Callahan is powerless to sop his men. He can punish them afterward, but it won’t do much. I had the same problem when I was colonel.”

“You do not trust me?”

“’Tisn’t that. I don’t trust them.”

“They are your own troops.”

“I trust ‘em to fight. I don’ trust ‘em not to rape a woman standin’ in their camp in her nightshirt. Go back to town an’ sleep. Ye’re safer there.”

“Very well, then, I shall, but I must first voice my displeasure at your lack of confidence in my ability to protect myself.”

“Duly noted.”

Kerrigan leaves and Jack falls asleep on the spare cot reminiscing about the time when he was a colonel. In that era, a man was lucky if he had a blanket to put between himself and the ground and a tent with no holes so that he could stay dry through the night. Eventually, Major Considine leaves, and Lieutenant Lawless takes his place watching over Liam. Just before dawn, Colonel Donald Hagan from the Fifty-First South Side Bridgeton Heavy Infantry arrives wearing a tartan with his uniform jacket, drinking scotch out of a leather wineskin, and demanding to see Colonel Callahan, who is still in bed. The unfortunate private on watch tiptoes into the colonel’s tent and gently shakes his shoulder. The private, who was a silent witness to the events of the previous night, knows that Colonel Callahan will not want to be woken. When he is shaken, Colonel Callahan murmurs something unintelligible, rolls onto his other side, facing away from the private, pulls up his blanket, and goes back to sleep, snoring loudly. Colonel Callahan has a bad temper when he has not slept well, but Colonel Hagan has a reputation for being a very mean drunk, and, given his choices, the private would rather risk the ire of his own colonel, who will likely forgive him due to the circumstances, than anger a man with a reputation for skull bashing. He shakes the Colonel’s shoulder harder, and the Colonel jolts awake.

“Private, why’d’ye wake me so early?”

“Colonel Hagan’s here to see ye, sor. He won’t leave.”

“Tell him I’ll be a minute.”

“Tell me ma’ I loved her.”

“What?”

“Hagan’s been drinkin’, sor.”

“Feck! Stay here, Private.”

Colonel Callahan quickly changes from his nightshirt into his uniform, stretches, yawns, and steps out of his tent and directly into Colonel Hagan, who asks, “Tryin’ tae grow a beard, Owen?”

“Haven’t shaved yet. In this unit, we wait ‘til the sun’s up to start the day.”

“We’re up an hour tae dawn every morning’.”

“Which is why ye’re a bastard. So, what brings ye here?”

“Your unit has mah doctor.”

“He’s a civilian, isn’t he?”

“Tha’ isnae the point. Give ‘im back.”

“Ye can have him back when me officer wakes up.”

“I cam’ tae fetch mae doctor, an’ I’ll leave wi’ mae doctor, even if I have tae fight ye for ‘im.”

“Donald, that’s really not necessary. Me own surgeon, who’s faced losin’ his license to practice medicine for operatin’ drunk once ‘afore was out drinkin’ wi’ a couple captains an’ lieutenants. He’s a real lightweight, so he sent someone to find another doctor.”

“How many have ye got?”

“Five, including’ Sparrow.”

“There cannae be a need for all tha’. So who else have ye got?”

“Considine’s military. He’s a major in the Forty-Third Cavalry. That’d make Tom McCoy his commandin’ officer. Lawless is a lieutenant in the Sixty-Eighth Heavy Artillery, so he’d be under Jack Leary’s command. Kiersey’s yours. Sparrow’s mine. Hayes is a civilian wi’ the Seventy-Sixth Light Artillery. They’ve lost so many colonels, hmm…Tobias Quinn, Ryan McGuire, Tim O’Dea…”

“Good men all.”

“Aye. So I suppose he answers to Connor O’Casey.”

“ I need tae leave wi’ mah doctor. Half mah unit’s got bandaged heads. So many they want us oot o’ combat.”

“Take it. I did.”

“I won’ do such a thing. They can still fight.”

“This is why ye have the highest casualty rate in the Southern Army. Breakfast is in ten minutes, so, if ye don’ mind, I’d like to at least shave.”

They step into the Colonel’s tent, and Colonel Hagan asks, “Ye don’ mak’ your men muster in the wee hours?”

“Not when we have a free day, an’ certainly not after what happened yesterday.”

“Why? Wha’ happened yesterday?”

“One o’ me privates was missin’ at muster. We thought maybe he slept late or was sick in the latrine. Did ye see that pine box on your way here?”

“I did.”

“That’s him.”

“Wha’ happened to him?”

“Hung hisself.”

“We have suicides all the time. Most of ‘em fall on a blade or shoot themselves, though.”

“Some o’ the men didn’t take it too well.”

“Includin’ an officer?”

“He’s the on9e who climbed the tree to cut him down. I guess Liam jus’ didn’t take it well.”

“What’d he do?”

Colonel Callahan finishes shaving and wipes his face on his towel saying, “Cut hisself up bad. He was drinkin’, an’ his hand slipped wi’ a saw. Doctor wasn’t here, so he tried to help hisself, took too much o’ the wrong things, an’ poisoned hisself. Hayes stitched his hands, but Sparrow said he wants Kiersey to make damned sure Liam’s alright when he wakes. Kiersey has the most experience wi’ head wounds an’ men who’ve stopped breathin’. We need to know if he’ll be alright or if we have to send him back to Bridgeton.”

“Why’s this one so important?”

“I’ll show ye,” says Colonel Callahan, easing open the flap of the medical tent and pointing to the spare cot, where Jack is sleeping.

“Ye can have Kiersey as long as ye need. I’m sure we’ll mak’ do without ‘im if the other doctors do rounds an’ visit us.”

“Don’ tell no one Liam’s here. We don’ need the enemy to find out.”

“Would I do tha’?”

“Probably after a few gallons o’ poitín,” interrupts Captain Fitzmaurice.

“Fitzmaurice, leave ‘afore I-” begins Colonel Callahan.

“What happened tae your face? Did ye trip over your dancin’ shoes?” asks Colonel Hagan tauntingly.

“Actually, he was hit by a-” begins Colonel Callahan.

“Ain’t that skirt cold?” asks Captain Fitzmaurice.

“Fitzmaurice, I told ye to-” begins Colonel Callahan.

“’Tisn’t a skirt. ‘Tis a kilt, ye Anglo-Irish pussy!”

“Half-Scotch bastard!”

“Faggot!”

“Sheep fucker!”

An enraged Colonel Hagan aims a blow at Captain Fitzmaurice’s already damaged left eye, a blow that Captain Fitzmaurice easily sidesteps, throwing Colonel Hagan off of his balance. Doctor Sparrow steps out from behind Captain Fitzmaurice, and Colonel Hagan stands, clutching his head and staring at the Captain and the Doctor, who move in perfect unison, punching Colonel Hagan in both eyes at the same time.

“Seein’ double, Colonel?” asks Captain Fitzmaurice.

“Bastard!”

“Fitzmaurice! In me office! Now!” shouts Colonel Callahan. “An’ yourself as well, doctor.”

“Aye, sor.”

They step into Colonel Callahan’s tent, and Colonel Callahan shouts, “What the fuck was that, Fitzmaurice?”

“Jus’ a wee bit o’ fun, sor.”

“Ye assaulted a superior officer in front o’ the Senatorial General.”

“He threw the first punch, sor.”

“Did I say ye could speak?”

“No, sor.”

“Ye were baitin’ him. Everyone saw ye do it. Ye’re not exactly innocent.”

“So?”

“So I have to punish ye. Doctor, ye’ll be sent to the local jail.”

“Why, sor?” asks Doctor Sparrow.

“Ye’re a civilian, which means ye’re not me responsibility. For assualt, ye’ll get five years in prison easy. That’s if ye have a decent lawyer. An’ don’t call me sor.”

“But-” begins Doctor Sparrow.

“I have no choice. Fitzmaurice, Hagan’ll push for a dishonorable discharge, an’ ye’ll be in prison we wi’ the Doctor. If ye ask him nice, Senatorial General Shepherd might be able to do ye a personal favor an’ get ye a cell together. Personally, I don’ think ye deserve fuckin’ that. Ye’re a goddamned disgrace, Fitzmaurice. Ye’re a disgrace to your family, your city, your uniform, your rank, this unit, an’ me.”

“Sor, I’m-”

“Save it. I know ye’ve been drinkin’, both o’ ye. What I want to know is how the two o’ ye got so aggressive. Ye always used to jus’ fall asleep.”

“Sor, permission to speak.”

“Granted, Fitzmaurice, but make it quick. I want breakfast this mornin’.”

“Sor, I’m sorry. I’ve been drinkin’ wi’ the doctor since we woke. We’re worried about Liam. It takes the edge off.”

“I know, boys, but unless Hagan decides to drop it, which ain’t in his nature, ye’re both lookin’ at at least five years in prison. He may be a hot-headed, stubborn bastard, but he’s still a colonel. I’ll negotiate wi’ him later.”

“Can we-” begins Captain Fitzmaurice.

“No, Fitzmaurice. Ye can’t come. Ye’ve done enough damage already. Hopefully, I can convince him to be lenient considerin’ the circumstances, but I doubt it. Now get out o’ me sight ‘afore I decide to beat ye half to death meself.”

Jack momentarily steps out of the medical tent to see Colonel Callahan and begins, “Colonel-”

“I know, sor. Fitzmaurice ought to be discharged. What they did was despicable, dishonorable. ‘Tis-”

“’Tis what I would’ve done.”

“What?”

“Hagan needs his ego ruined every once in a while, an’ he was after Fitzmaurice’s girl.”

“Really?”

“Aye. He’s long been after Barrett fortune. He made a bet last night that he’d get her away from him by Samhain. If anythin’, ye should blame me. I’m the one what told Fitzmaurice that Hagan’d do whatever it takes, includin’ fightin’ him, to win her. ‘Twas I what suggested the doctor disguise hisself an’ they fight him together. I never said Hagan made a fair bet, an’ I collect me money on Samhain.”

“Ye’re an old cheat.”

“No different from your father. He’s got money against Hagan too, an’ we’ll use the prize to get drunk the way we used to ‘afore ye was born.”

“This was all over a bet?”

“Aye. Fitzmaurice didn’t plan it. I told him while Hagan was shoutin’ at ye. I don’ like Hagan.”

“How’d he become a colonel then?”

“He’s qualified. By the way, if he tries to discharge Fitzmaurice over this, I’ll override it personally, so bring it straight to me. Same goes for legal charges.”

“Aye, sor.”

“Me an’ your father have been takin’ advantage o’ the fact that Hagan makes bets he can’t win when he’s drunk for years. If ye ever need easy money, bring him to town, get him drunk, an’ bet that he can’t do whatever ridiculous thing comes to mind first. Your da’ once bet Hagan that he couldn’t fly. If ye’ve never seen a drunk bastard in a kilt runnin’ about flappin’ his arms like a bird an’ cursin’ a storm because he can’t take off, ye ought to some time. ‘Tis a good laugh. Now, please excuse me. I need to return to me son an’ ye’d best go to breakfast ‘afore ‘tis gone.”

“Ye’re welcome to breakfast, sor.”

“I had mine out o’ the still already.”

Jack returns to Liam’s bedside and is shortly followed by Doctor Sparrow, who brings his breakfast so that he can eat it while he takes his turn standing vigil over Liam. By noon, only Doctors Sparrow and Kiersey remain, the others having returned to their respective units. Liam is still unconscious, and his body temperature is dangerously low. The doctors pile woolen blankets on top of him to no avail. They warn Jack that he will likely bury Liam within the week. Jack does not give up hope, even kneeling on the ground and praying for Liam’s recovery, but nobody hears his prayers. Many members of the unit step into the medical tent throughout the day to see Liam and extend their sympathy to Jack. Only Captain Fitzmaurice and Sergeant Barrett is still on leave from her unit, and Captain Fitzmaurice is still out of combat because of his eye. They sit and drink with Jack, but they let him drink more than them. Jack promises that Captain Fitzmaurice will have no repercussions from his skirmish with Colonel Hagan. Jack becomes impatient and begins to pace, and Captain Fitzmaurice takes that as his cue to leave.

By nightfall, Jack is so drunk that he cannot stand. This does not quell his worries. It only makes him somewhat irritable that he cannot pace to alleviate the effects of his worrying. He asks Doctor Sparrow to give him some opium to at least put him to sleep, but Doctor Sparrow refuses, informing Jack that his supply is for patients only. Jack tries to insist, but Doctor Sparrow is a civilian and not easily intimidated. Neither orders nor threats can convince him, so Jack tries pleading with him to no avail. Doctors Sparrow and Kiersey must meet the train at Crosspoint station in order to obtain supplies. They leave Jack and Liam for an hour and return with a sack full of bread and meat pies. Several members of the unit missed dinner. Captain Fitzmaurice and his girlfriend were in a tent in the woods together. Captain Boland was knee-deep in the river washing his uniform when he realized that he forgot to bring spare clothing. Lieutenants Coffey and Morrison were coming back from town where they went to buy liquor. Private Callahan was not released from his punishment in time for dinner. He was flogged and ordered to clean the stables and latrines for going into battle drunk repeatedly.

The odd group assembles in the medical tent for dinner. A Senatorial General, a filthy Private, a Sergeant from another army, two drunk Lieutenants, an exhausted Captain, two civilian doctors, a soaking wet captain wearing his only dry pair of pants and nothing else, and an unconscious Captain are assembled, all but the unconscious one eating meat pies and drinking porter. Liam is still unconscious, and the doctors are desperately worried that his brain and heart are irreparably damaged from the time when he was not breathing. Jack, now having something in his stomach besides alcohol, somewhat stumbles, somewhat runs to the latrine and vomits because of the amount of alcohol he drank during the day. Private Callahan, not realizing that this is a common occurrence for Jack, runs to make Jack coffee and toast to take with the aspirin that Doctor Sparrow will undoubtedly give him. Captain Fitzmaurice reminds Sergeant Barrett that he doesn’t drink much for that exact reason. Private Callahan returns, and Doctor Sparrow, knowing far more about Jack’s vices than Doctor Kiersey does, elects to maintain the vigil into the knight, knowing that Jack will also likely need continual care.

Eventually, Doctor Sparrow is unable to stay awake any longer, and he falls asleep in the chair that Liam made. His sleep is far from restful, being plagued by the ghosts of the past and the nightmares of the future. At dawn, he wakes to the call of the bugle to find Jack missing and Liam still motionless. When Doctor Kiersey sees Doctor Sparrow, he tells him to go straight to bed after breakfast. The unit will be fighting, and Liam will need to be moved out of the surgical tent before the men leave. Before breakfast is over, Doctors Sparrow and Kiersey, with the help of Captain Fitzmaurice, return Liam to his bunk. Doctor Kiersey receives word that his own unit will not be fighting, so he offers to take Doctor Sparrow’s place in order to offer his colleague some sleep. He instructs Captain Fitzmaurice to watch Liam and run to find him should Liam wake. Captain Fitzmaurice is content to finally be of some use, since he becomes restless during lengthy periods of complete inactivity. If he is to rest, he must not be completely restricted or confined. He needs some form of activity or action in order to keep him sane.

Around four o’clock in the afternoon, Jack stumbles into camp completely disheveled. His clothing is awry, his hair uncombed, and his beard is not trimmed. His sleeve is rolled back, and his arm bears fresh needle marks. The unit having just returned from the fighting, Captain Boland helps him to the river where he can make himself presentable. Doctor Kiersey is stitching a gash on Private Callahan’s forearm, the only injury requiring his attention for the day, when Captain Fitzmaurice comes running for the doctor. As soon as he is finished with the Private’s arm, an operation for which the patient denied anesthesia of any kind, both doctor and patient run to the tent. Jack, hearing the commotion from the river, runs to the camp wearing only his trousers and undershirt, though he has bathed, combed his hair, and trimmed his beard, making him look like a gentleman dressed for a boxing match.

When everyone arrives at the tent, Sergeant Barrett has Liam’s head on her leg and is stroking his hair to keep him calm. Doctor Kiersey checks Liam’s reactions and determines that his time unconscious helped him rather than harmed him. He orders Liam not to drink or take any medications except under Doctor Sparrow’s direct supervision for at least a week and recommends that Colonel Callahan allow him a few more days to recover before bringing him back into combat.

Liam manages to choke one word in a barely audible whisper, “Jack…”

The tent clears and Jack takes Sergeant Barrett’s place saying, “I’m here, son.”

“Miss…Kerr…i…gan. Dis…a…poin…ted…?”

“Not wi’ ye, no. Wi’ me perhaps. Ye couldn’t’ve known. She’s worried.”

“Saw…the…end.”

“I know. I’ve seen it too.”

“So…cold.”

“I know. Let me see your hands.”

“Hands…pain.”

“Ye gave us quite a fright, son. Ye’ll be alright. I promise. Don’ worry, Liam. Your da’s here.”