Free The Last Full Measure by Jack Campbell Page A

and domestic and to follow all lawful orders given you by those officers senior to you in authority?”
    “I do, sir.”
    “Then I hereby appoint you to the brevet rank of captain of volunteers in the Army of the New Republic. Do your duty, sir.” Hancock seized his reins and made to turn his horse’s head, then paused for another look at Armistead. “Farewell, Lo.”
    “Farewell,” Armistead echoed, saluting.
    Hancock returned the salute, then pulled his horse around and galloped down the road toward where the rest of the column had begun moving steadily away.
    Armistead spent a moment watching Hancock, then shifted his appraisal to the men awaiting his commands. “Let’s get the troops over to the other side of the hill and make sure they are properly placed, Captain Chamberlain. We have some rifles and some carbines, but also a fair number of pistols and shotguns. We will need to let the attackers get close before we fire, and that means getting the troops under cover as Captain Longstreet advised. There is little time nor tools to dig trenches, but we will do what we can.”
    “Yes, sir.” Chamberlain saluted. “May I ask you something?”
    “Of course.”
    “You didn’t seem surprised when Colonel Hancock proposed me as your deputy.”
    Armistead smiled at Chamberlain. “Win and I both knew that you had already joined us in your heart, sir. He also spoke truly in his assessment of you. You will need confidence in yourself this day. Lack that confidence, and the men will know. Believe that what Colonel Hancock said of you is true, and together we will hold this hill. There goes the wagon with Mr. Lincoln. If you wish any farewells with him, you had best do so now.”
    Chamberlain ran over to the wagon, which had just started to move, and pulled himself up onto the back. Inside he saw Lincoln lying on his pile of blankets, the plain-featured face drawn with strain and suffering from the wound and the rough travel. With no opportunity for shaving, a beard had begun sprouting on Lincoln’s chin, but the growth did not further roughen the man’s features, instead lending him some extra measure of dignity. “I’m staying here, Mr. Lincoln, with the soldiers who will be holding off the regulars. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
    “Goodbye, Professor Chamberlain, and thank you for all you have done.” Lincoln offered his hand, which Chamberlain was relieved to find cool and not hot with fever.
    “It is Captain Chamberlain now,” he advised Lincoln.
    Lincoln smiled with surprising gentleness. “I hope to be worthy of the men who are defending me, Captain Chamberlain. Will I see you in Illinois?”
    “Perhaps.” Chamberlain didn’t know if he would ever leave this hill, but he didn’t want to speak of that. “Events are coming to a head, it seems. I need to return to Maine, to help raise the state in rebellion in support of the New Republic, and then raise soldiers to help the struggle in other states.”
    “A difficult and worthy labor, captain. My good wishes go with you.”
    “There is little I can do, Mr. Lincoln, compared to what you can do. A man of the people must lead this rebellion against those who hold the people and the Republic in slavery.”
    “You do me too much honor, sir.” Lincoln smiled, though sadness held his eyes as if they could see a future which held much sorrow and loss. “I will gather the forces of liberty and direct them as best I may, though I will be much like the man riding a river in flood on a raft, who seeks first to keep the raft afloat as the raging flood goes where it will. But perhaps this flood can be guided along a better course.”
    “I’ll help all that I can, sir.” Chamberlain dropped off the wagon, watching it go, then jogged back to where Armistead waited.
    As they led the fifty volunteers east to where the Baltimore Pike climbed up the side of the ridge near the cemetery, Captain Buford rode by and saluted Armistead. “I’ll keep Stuart busy,