Trinka Hakes Noble - The Last Brother: A Civil War Tale

A CIVIL WAR TALE

TRINKA HAKES NOBLE ~ ILLUSTRATED BY ROBERT PAPP

For my brother DannyWith love,

T.H.N.

Dedicated to those who love our country.

R.P.

Sleeping Bear Press wishes to acknowledge Sue Boardman, Licensed Battlefield Guide, for reading and reviewing the manuscript.

Robert Papp wishes to thank his friend Danny and also the McClellan Rangers Reenactment Association, for providing assistance in his research for The Last Brother.

The Civil War is sometimes called the boys war because those who served were so young. Many drummers and buglers were between the ages of ten and fourteen. The inspiration for The Last Brother came from my own family history. Nearly one hundred of my ancestors were in the Civil War, which they called the States War. One large Hakes farming family from upstate New York sent all their sons. The youngest, a fourteen-year-old drummer, was the only one who returned. This tragic loss was not uncommon on both sides.

But it wasnt until I walked the battlefield at Gettysburg that I began to realize the depth and enormity of what happened there. The culmination of this three-day battle at Picketts Charge seemed beyond reason, yet soldiers did survive in pockets up and down the three-mile-long battle line. The highly emotional content of this story was drawn from that experience.

The Last Brother was written with deep respect and honor, not only for my ancestors, but for all who served in the Civil War.

Trinka Hakes Noble

In the morning of July 1st, 1863, the peaceful little town of Gettysburg awoke, early as usual. Front porches were swept clean, feather beds aired, and blackberry jam bubbled on the stove. In the town square, old men dozed in the shade while small barefoot boys scampered toward Seminary Ridge carrying fishing poles and berry pails.

One mile across from Seminary Ridge rose Cemetery Ridge flanked by Little Round Top and Big Round Top to the south and Cemetery and Culps Hill to the north. In the rich valley below, tidy farms and fields spread out like a patchwork quilt stitched together with split rail fences.

Yet the Civil War had raged for two years. Gettysburg was only seven miles from the Mason-Dixon Line. When rumors reached the old men that Confederate troops had pushed north into Pennsylvania, they kept a watchful lookout for signs of war. But the barefoot boys up on Seminary Ridge saw it first two massive clouds of dust gathering on either horizon as two armies moved closer.

In one cloud of dust marched a young boy in a blue uniform, with a full knapsack, a canteen, and a brass bugle slung over his shoulder. His name was Gabriel and he was a bugler in the Union Army, even though he was only eleven.

Gabe was the youngest in a big Pennsylvania farm family of four boys and five girls. Hed run away with his brother Davy, who was sixteen, to join up. When the recruiting officer asked Davy his age, Davy honestly replied, Im over eighteen because he had slipped a piece of paper inside his shoe with 18 penciled on it.

Then he pointed at Gabe. Think you can blow a bugle for the Keystone State, boy?

Gabriel nodded, I can learn, sir.

Lots of boys Davys age got the war fever, hankering for adventure and glory. But Gabe had his own reason for tagging after Davy.

Joshua and Tucker, Gabes two oldest brothers, had marched off to join the Union Army when President Lincoln first called for volunteers after the firing on Fort Sumter in 1861.

Its just for 90 days, Josh and Tuck assured their Ma and Pa. Come harvesttime, well be back. Cant expect these two little runts to handle it, they joked, playfully cuffing Davy and Gabe.

But Ma and Pa looked serious. You are the sons of old Pennsylvania now, they said.

How proudly Josh and Tuck marched off in their blue uniforms. Davy and Gabe had raced alongside, shouting the Union forever! while their sisters cheered, waving white handkerchiefs.

But harvesttime came and went. Ninety days stretched into a year, then two, until finally, one day, the sad news came and those ninety days had become forever. Thats when Gabe knew Davy would enlist and he would follow.

So now Gabe and Davy were the boys in blue. Gabe pulled his cap low and squinted. He searched for Davy marching with the 71st Pennsylvania, but the dust was too thick. So many regiments and brigades had joined the long blue column, with flags flying from every northern state from Maine to Michigan to Minnesota. Gabe had never seen so many soldiers.

Keep up, boy! ordered a sergeant. No stragglers! We got a full days march to Gettysburg.

Yes, sir, Gabe obeyed and quickstepped forward, keeping his eye on Lancer up ahead, the majors powerful chestnut charger.

Lancer was a trained military horse, with the letters U.S. branded on his hindquarter. Neither busting shells nor flying bullets spooked him. Hed charge into battle, knowing all the commands almost before they were called.

Like Lancer, Gabe knew all the commands, too. There were over 60 different battle calls for young buglers to learn. The problem in the Civil War was that the Confederate Army had the same calls. So it was crucial for troops to learn the style of their own bugler, especially in battle. So Gabriel practiced long and hard. And to make sure his regiment knew it was him, he put a little uplifting lilt in each one. But unlike Lancer, Gabe had never been in a real battle.

The next day they made camp below Cemetery Ridge. Already fighting and skirmishes had broken out. Cannon smoke hung heavy in the air. Up on Cemetery Hill Gabe could see dozens of artillery batteries pointed toward the enemy.

Immediately, the major called for scouts and Davy was the first to step forward. Gabe nervously watched his brother vanish into the smoke while Army mules rumbled by hauling more cannons and heavy caissons loaded with grapeshot and canister shells.