The Grantville Gazette - Volume 4 Part 29

As Elizabeth turned to correct the General she saw the smile on his face.

"It's long overdue, Elizabeth," General Jackson said, as he held the insignia of a major out to her.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me, Major, you earned it. Now what do you need to make this unit ready to go? As of now

this unit is no longer provisional and I think the army is going to want more than one battalion like this."

"Well, we need more blacksmiths to work on fabricating new equipment, one or two captains, a few more lieutenants, at least one more radio, and if possible a small sawmill. I already have a signal detachment that can lay wire and operate a telegraph system. I'd also like to transfer about two hundred and fifty men to fill out the track laying platoons and form a horse-drawn tram company. You talk about expanding to a battalion and more. If we do, I want to make Hatfield, Plotz, Born, and Bach warrant officers so they can command platoons. Promote Bicard to captain so he can command the tram company and Torbert to first sergeant as a start. Anything else we can build and we'll promote from

within as I expand the TOE." Elizabeth paused, "And sir, this unit will be the One hundred forty-first Railway Battalion, otherwise known as the Louisiana Tigers."

"Well, before I ask why one hundred forty-first and why Louisiana, where's this band I keep hearing

rumors about?" the general asked.

Elizabeth smiled and said, "Easy, sir, they're the wire platoon and some of the telegraph operators of the signal detachment."

Jackson smiled as he shook his head, thinking she's got military bureaucrat in her blood and knows very well how to hide things in the open. He then asked, "You know that Richelieu has changed the name of Virginia to Louisiana, don't you?"

"Sir, it's my home and I want to ram it up the rear end of the arrogant Frenchman that took the name of my home away from me. Besides, there are no alligators and bayous in Virginia. They sure don't grow rice there. And, I 'gaw-ron-tee' that there's no way they would ever come up with Tabasco Sauce there,"

Elizabeth said. "Besides that sir, I wanted my people to realize that there was more to the old United States than the great state of West Virginia."

"Does this have anything to do with the LSU football team being called Tigers?" the general asked.

"Well sir, the One-four-one is one of the Louisiana units that LSU got the tiger mascot from. My daddy served with the One-four-one until he had to leave for promotion," Elizabeth replied.

"Done," he said. "How were you ever able to get Plotz, Hatfield and Torbert to work together or work at

all? That's really amazing," General Jackson told her.

"Well, General, it just took a half-English c.o.o.na.s.s to sort these hillbillies out." Elizabeth answered with a smile, "Really, they're all good men, sir."

On a cold spring morning in 1634 a new train was loading up in Grantville to move north. This was a different sort of unit from the normal volunteer regiments that completed training in the Grantville area.

First, a marching band was playing New Orleans style bra.s.s band music and alternating numbers with

the fifes and drums. On the ba.s.s drum was written "U.S. Military Railway Band" around a brick-red colored shield-shaped crest with the head of a Bengal tiger on it; below the shield was a gold ribbon with the words "Try Us."

Another difference was the load on this train was made up of steel-wheeled railcars, not rubber tired vehicles. These trains were loaded on the standard gauge flatcars for transport to Halle, where they would be loaded on barges.

Large amounts and different types of equipment were moving out. Flatcars were loaded with prefabricated sections of rail, lumber cars were laden with rails, coal cars were filled with equipment, and there was one car loaded with spools of telegraph wire.

Another difference was that families were going with this unit. With the attached Volunteer Pioneer Regiment to provide security and track laying support, the total convoy numbered nearly two thousand personnel.

A young woman dressed in up-time U.S. Army battledress with a new gold oak leaf on her right collar walked the length of the train accompanied by an older man in overalls.

"Well Chief, I guess we're as ready as we'll ever be," Elizabeth said.

"Yes ma'am, I agree with you. Time to go," Chief Warrant Officer Charlie Schwartz replied.

"I'll meet you back at our train," Elizabeth told him. She then went over where two other young women were waiting for her.

"You take care of yourself and be careful," Mary Pat Flanagan said.

"And what am I supposed to do now that you're leaving?" Caroline Platzer asked.

Beth looked at her roommates of her last two years at WVU and said, "I'll miss both of you very much,

but you know I'll be back." After hugging her friends, she went to the lead locomotive and pumped her

arm up and down, the signal to move out. The 141st Railway Battalion was going to war.

"Well Chief, on to Halle. I hope the navy has the river open so we can travel on barges up to Scherwin Lake," Elizabeth said.

"Ma'am, it'll be a lot easier and quicker to get to where we need to go on barges," Chief Schwartz replied.

"I couldn't agree with you more. This is going to be a pain, but on the other hand, we're going to be

needed," Elizabeth said.

"Well, we have the advance detachment with some equipment at the Schwerin Lake railhead, but we have to lot to work out on how we're going support the army," the chief said.

"Your idea of setting up an advanced base camp at Schwerin Lake is a good one," Elizabeth replied.

"We'll just have to see what happens when we get there."

CONTINUING SERIALS.

Heavy Metal Music or Revolution in Three Flats

by David Carrico.

Grantville, March, 1633.

Franz hissed in pain as his crippled hand was flexed, twisted and pulled by Dr. Nichols' strong fingers.

Sweat beaded his forehead as he endured the testing manipulation. He sighed in relief when the doctor finally released it.

"Sorry," Dr. Nichols said. "I know that hurt, but I had to see what the condition was." He made some notes in a folder, then looked up. "Well, as the old joke goes, I have bad news and good news. Which do you want first?"

Franz swallowed as Marla took his claw in both her hands. "The bad first, if you please," he replied.

Dr. Nichols looked at them both seriously. "I can't help you surgically. I'm sorry. The damage is severe, but I probably could have saved it if I could have seen it right after it happened. Maybe not, with the knuckles smashed in the last two fingers, but we would have had a good chance. Now . . . Frankly, it

healed wrong. I'm not faulting those who tended you-fact is, they did as good a job as any down-timer could have done."

He glanced down at his notes, then back up, and continued, "I have-had, rather-a good friend back up-

time who could have fixed it, even now, but he was a fully trained specialized orthopedic surgeon with all the appropriate tools and technology at his fingertips. All modesty aside, I'm a good surgeon, but orthopedics, especially with the small bones like in the hand, requires not only the training but the tools, and I don't have either one. Even if I did, I'm not sure I could justify expending them for what is, to be honest, a relatively minor injury. Our resources are so limited right now that they have to be reserved for truly major problems."

Franz looked down at where Marla's hands clasped tightly around the hand in question, sighed, and said,

"I understand."

He raised his eyes back up to look into the doctor's, and a small quirky smile played around his mouth.

"I truly did not believe you could do anything, but Marla insisted we come to you. Perhaps in my heart of hearts I wanted to believe that you Grantvillers could work just one more miracle"-he chuckled-"as if enough miracles have not been worked on my behalf already." He smiled at Marla, and his good hand rested on top of hers.

"Well, it is sorry I am that we have wasted your time, Herr Doctor." Franz started to stand up.

"Just a minute, young man. I said I had good news also. Don't you want to hear that?"

Marla pulled him back down, and spoke for the first time. "What do you mean, Dr. Nichols?"

"Well, we may not be able to restore the hand to its preinjury condition, but there are some things we can do to make it somewhat better than it is. Granted, the little finger and ring finger are total write-offs."

Marla saw his confusion, and said, "He means nothing can be done for them, Franz."

The doctor blinked at the interruption, then continued, "Er, yes, they can't be helped. Your wrist and

thumb, on the other hand, seem to have totally escaped injury."