Herman Haupt set the brake on the engine and wearily leaned over a moment, head resting on the side of the cab. He looked back at Major Beveridge, who was slumped over in the wood tender, cradling his wounded arm.
"Major, could you please see to the wounded aboard? Roust someone out at the station to get ambulances."
Beveridge nodded.
"And take care of my friend there," Haupt added, nodding toward the body of die engineer. The man had died only minutes before, his last moments unnerving as he lapsed into delirium and kept calling for his wife.
His legs shaky, Haupt stepped down from the cab and started across the rail yard toward the signal station. All around him was chaos. The engines he had sent back down from Westminster were parked in a row, some with wounded still on board, a sight that angered him since they had most likely been here for at least a half hour. A dozen more engines were lined up, loaded down with supplies, barrels of rations, crates of ammunition, half a dozen guns on flatcars, and now with no place to go. Men of his command, spotting their leader, came running up, shouting questions, asking for orders, and he waved them aside, the men falling in behind him, trailing along as he stepped into the signal office, the lone telegrapher hunched over, writing down a message as it came in. Herman waited patiently. There was nothing ruder than to start talking to a telegrapher at work; it was a protocol that anyone in the railroad business learned rather quickly. You might be the president of the company, or a general; but when a message was coming in, you were silent
The key stopped clattering, and the operator looked- up. "Thank God you are here, sir," the boy gasped. "I've been getting queries from the War Office every fifteen minutes demanding to know where you are."
"Clear the line for a priority " Haupt said.
The telegrapher rested his fingers on the keys and started to tap out the signal ordering all other operators to stay off the line.
A moment later he looked up at Haupt and nodded. Haupt was already writing the message down, and he handed the sheet over.
To General Halleck
War Department, Washington
Sir. At seven this morning Westminster fell to Confederate forces of at least division strength. Supplies set afire, but must assume significant amount will be captured, enough for the enemy to sustain operations for at least a week or more. Hundreds, perhaps thousand or more wagons, fully loaded, captured as well Believe attack is supported by Longstreet's entire corps.
Last communication with Army of Potomac received shortly after dawn, from Hancock, reporting army was moving from Gettysburg to Westminster.
I am proceeding to Washington and will report on arrival.
Haupt
The message went out, and Haupt turned to the men gathered round him.
"Sir, it's a mad panic in town," a captain announced. "Damn mule drivers came storming in here at dawn, screaming the Rebs were right behind them. Pro-Union civilians are already clamoring to get on trains to get out, while others are supposedly hanging out rebel flags. Hundreds of drunks and copperheads are tearing up downtown. Several have been shot Sir, is Lee coming here like they say?"
Haupt shook his head. '1 saw no cavalry up at Westminster. I think Lee will hold there."
"Why, sir? He could have all this, if he wanted it There ain't an organized regiment in the entire city at the moment"
"First the Army of the Potomac. That's what Lee will go for. He will want to destroy it before he turns toward us, and that's what we have to get ready for next"
Haupt turned and looked at the rail-line map pinned to the wall of the station. It was most likely overstepping his bounds, but he sensed he had better act and do it now. To simply leave these trains here in Baltimore was a waste.
He looked back at his men.
"I want the line cleared up to Philadelphia. Get ready to move everything we have up there." "Philadelphia, sir?"
"From there to Harrisburg. I think that is where we'll be needed most"
The men saluted and started to scramble. He saw a pot of coffee sitting on a small wood stove. The fire was out, the day far too hot to have the brew warming. He took a tin cup from the windowsill, poured it full, and drank the black syrup down cold, the drink jolting him awake.
"Get me an express down to Washington," Haupt snapped.