The Last Full Measure Read Online Free Page A

army, if you will have me. The cause is just, and I hated not being in the same army as you, Win.”
    Hancock smiled again. “I felt the same, Lo.”
    “We will do a formal swearing-in tomorrow,” Mosby said. “We also have some new enlisted recruits. We’re staying in this town another day to rest, then we will move on before the federals hear of our location.”
    The next day Chamberlain watched Armistead and a collection of men of varied ages take the oath to join the Army of the New Republic. Soon afterwards, Captain Buford led out a mounted patrol to scout for activity by the federals. Chamberlain feared feeling isolated among these soldiers, but they made him welcome, asking about sentiment in Maine regarding the federal government. Though Chamberlain assured them that Maine was no less discontented than any other state, he felt a growing sense of personal dissatisfaction, a feeling that he should be doing something to match the dedication of these men to liberty.
    That evening Chamberlain was pleased to be invited to dine with Mosby, Hancock and Armistead again. He spoke little, listening instead as the three officers spoke casually of past battles and experiences. Chamberlain felt as if he were in a play or a dream, or somehow cast into the past, seated among English barons from the days of King John, or Roundheads in the time of Charles I, or even beside Lafayette as the French cavalier sat with Washington himself. Surely those combatants of old had spoken like this, shared the same humor and the same tales of misfortune or success, as they had discussed the overthrow of the corrupt monarchs of their time. No, it felt more like being among the Patriots themselves, those who had plotted revolution in taverns in Boston. We mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.
    “You seem pensive this evening, sir,” Mosby observed.
    Jarred from his reverie, Chamberlain nodded, smiling slightly. “I was thinking, sir, of the last time a man named Hancock plotted rebellion against unjust and unelected authority.”
    Major Hancock leaned back in his seat, grinning. “I never could sign my name as well as that other Hancock, but I don’t think he could sit a horse half so well as me, so I’ve no grounds for complaint.”
    “John Hancock was also wealthy,” Armistead pointed out.
    “I am wealthy in friends,” Hancock declared, “and if any of you sons of bitches dare to disagree that you are my friend then I will see you on the field on honor and blow your damned fool head off.”
    They were still laughing when a quick knock announced the arrival of a volunteer soldier, who whispered a message to Colonel Mosby. “We have a visitor,” Mosby announced to the others. “Bring him in,” he ordered. The soldier went to the door and beckoned to someone outside, then held the door before leaving as a dour-looking man entered and nodded gruffly to everyone.
    “James?” Hancock asked in surprise. “I’ll be damned.”
    “Doubtless,” the visitor answered. “Long time, Win.”
    “Yes, it has been a long time.” Hancock glanced at Mosby and Chamberlain. “This is Captain James Longstreet, West Point class of ’42. I haven’t heard much of you recently, James.”
    “I left the army over a year ago.” Longstreet sat where Mosby indicated and stretched out his legs with a sigh, gratefully accepting the offer of food and drink. “It was either that or shoot my commanding officer.”
    “Early?” Armistead asked.
    “Nah. I would have shot Early, and then left. I was under McClellan. Useless is too kind a word. He’s got his eyes on the White House, and is so scared of not getting it that he won’t fight a battle he might lose. Which is every battle.” Longstreet grinned derisively. “I didn’t know you were with this bunch, Lo.”
    “I just came in from a prison train, headed for the plantations.”
    Longstreet stared glumly at Armistead for a moment before shaking his head.