The Medallion
By soho178
Disclaimer: For Entertainment
purposes only. The characters and situations of the TV program "
The box lay exactly where it had for the last ten years, ever since he’d come home from the East. He reached for it, opening the black lacquered lid and moving aside the collection of gold buttons and insignia. Lying on the bottom, was a brass disk, the eagle imprinted on the front staring out at him.
Jarrod picked it out from among the other mementos and turned it, reading the words inscribed on the back. His mind drifted off into memories of sunshine in the darkness.
“There’s a big
picnic on the green with band music and lots of speech making. Someone reads
the Declaration of
Davey grinned up at him,
excited that he’d gotten the Major to tell a few stories about life out West.
For a city-bred boy from the poor part of town,
“Are the mountains
really as tall as you said sir?”
“Are
you doubting me boy?” He stared at his young friend in mock annoyance
and watched the red creep up his face. Chuckling to show he wasn’t really
offended he settled back beside the campfire and continued, “Yes they are Davey, and rough. The professors say they’re young, a lot
younger than the
“I’d surely love to
see them some day! And see all those stars acrosst
the night sky.” He was so like Nick, tall for his age, dark and lanky, with a
smile that could light you up inside and a knack for fun.
“I’ll tell you what Davey, after this war is over I’ll personally
take you out there to see them.
“Really
sir? You’d do that? Maybe I
could learn to be a cowboy!”
“My
word on It, Davey. But only if we stop to visit your mother on the way and she bakes me
one of those apple pies you’re always talking about.”
Suddenly the young
boy got shy. “Oh Major Barkley. My Mama would be so
embarrassed to have a gentleman like you see our place.”
“Nonsense, Davey. She’s raised you to be a fine young man, she has nothing to be ashamed of. It will be my honor
to tell her that in person.”
“You still got yours?” He’d been so absorbed in the memories he didn’t hear Heath enter the study. Jumping a bit, he smiled a sad sort of smile before answering.
“Oh I still have mine, but this isn’t it.”
Nick walked in, ready to hurry his brothers along when his eye was caught by the glint of sunlight on metal and he noticed the braided leather thong hanging from his elder brother’s hand.
“Well I’ll be. Thought you woulda had one of those fancy gold pins, Jarrod.”
The lawyer smiled at his brother and shook his head. “No, Brother Nick.”
Nick took the medallion from his brother’s hand and read the name.
“Davey Winters, 69th
“The
boy who carried our battle flag at
Heath frowned, confused. “I thought you were stationed in Washington, Jarrod?”
“Oh, that was after.”
They’d moved up to
main the wall at Cemetary Ridge, everyone ready and
waiting for the attack that they knew was coming. He looked at the boy crouched
to his left and saw the fear shining in his eyes. The silence that descended
after the two hour artillery duel was deafening. The constant roar of cannon
fire, the crash of incoming rounds and the cries of the wounded had rattled
even him. He could imagine how terrified the boy must be. Settling a hand on the nearby shoulder he
flashed a reassuring smile, hoping the youth couldn’t see is own fear.
It started almost without warning. The gray coats appeared across the field and began their advance. The Union artillery answered, cutting swathes through the ranks of the opposing troops, leaving dead and wounded everywhere. The canon would fire and there would be bodies and dirt flying through the air, but every time a hole was opened more gray clad soldiers rushed up to fill it. Soon the air was filled with smoke and neither side could see more than a few feet. The enemy materialized out of the smoke like ghosts, charging and firing as they came. Eventually the wall was breeched and his men fell back until reinforcements came and the opposing line was driven back, past Cushing’s silenced artillery. They fought on for what seemed like hours, bullets flying past, sending stone and dirt into the air whenever they missed their targets, rifle barrels so hot that you had to wrap them in rags to reload. An everywhere was the sound of men, orders being given, encouragement shouted, screams and moans. Somewhere in the smoke and confusion he’d lost track of Davey.
“You ready Jarrod?” Heath asked, curious to know what was going through his brother’s head but needing to get them started before the ladies grew impatient.
Jarrod looped the medallion around his neck and nodded.
The three brothers rode ahead while Duke McCall drove the
buggy with Victoria, Audra and numerous boxes destined for the festivities.
They waited on the
platform, not sure what to expect. He’d been gone the better part of six years,
first at school and then quitting to enlist with the
Suddenly, there he
was, stepping down from the train in a charcoal gray suit. Her
son. Oh how good he looked. Her
son, it was him and yet not. All these years he stayed unchanged in her
imagination, but the man facing her, opening his arms in ready embrace, was
older, mature and knowledgeable beyond what he should be. She couldn’t
stop herself from rushing forward with a cry of delight. “Jarrod,
oh darling!” He wrapped his arms around her and they hugged. The rest of
the family held back for a minute or two, letting mother and son have their
private reunion. She seemed so much smaller than he remembered.
Nick was next,
shaking his brother’s hand and clapping him on the back before pulling Jarrod
into a bear hug. Nick had mustered out at the end of the war and come straight
home. He’d been angry at Jarrod for not doing the same, but had reconciled to
his brother’s desire to finish the long delayed schooling. They’d parted on
difficult terms, never believing that they would have to wait so long for this
moment. Separating as green youths, they reunited as men.
Finally Tom had
stepped forward and held out his hand to his eldest son.
“Jarrod.”
“Father.” The two looked at each other and both knew
that their reunion would be private. She hoped that the hard words and hurt
feelings of the past could be reconciled. Jarrod had gone his own way. Both men
had the choice of how they would live with that fact.
“Jarrod?”
The handsome man who she called ‘son’ slowed his horse to drop back and ride next to his mother. “What can I do for you Lovely Lady?”
“I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, how proud your Father would be today.” She smiled and reached over to pat his arm.
In a rare moment of openness, he looked at her and asked, “Do you really think so? After all that went on between us?”
“Oh yes darling. In the end, your Father wanted all his children to be happy. He might have forgotten that we each define it for ourselves, but I know he would have eventually realized that the choices you made were the right ones for you.”
“I wish I could be so sure. I miss him, you know.”
“I know you do dear. So do I. We all do.”
“He would have loved to be here for the Centennial. He would have been the biggest kid of all celebrating.” Jarrod changed the subject to lighten the mood.
“Oh you’re right about that. He would have been whooping and hollering all the way to town, egging you three on.” She laughed at the thought.
“Three?”
“Oh, I have no doubt that he would have found a way to keep Heath here, part of the family. It might have been hard, but he would have made it happen.” She inclined her head towards the blond who rode ahead of them. “He’s brought so much happiness to us these last few years.”
The road narrowed and he trotted ahead to give the
carriage more space. The land here about was rocky and it reminded him of the
After the fighting
was over he’d sought out the remnants of the company, dismayed at the number who were missing. Eventually he’d walked back along
the line of their battle searching for what he knew must be there. He’d found Davey crumpled behind a rock where he’d finally taken a
bullet to the stomach. He lifted the boy up, joining the hundreds of others who
carried body after body to the makeshift morgue. He’d made sure that boy’s information
was recorded then slipped the medallion off his neck and around his own. Taking
up a shovel, he selected a plot of land in the apple orchard nearby. As the
ranking officer left uninjured, it had fallen to him to write the letters. The
day after the battle,
He’d gone to see her
as soon as he could after being transferred to
“Oh he had a great heart, that one did. It’s why he joined up in the first
place.”
“How
so?”
“He said ‘as little
as we got, Ma, at least we we’re free to be happy’. He couldn’t sit by and when
others didn’t even have that. It helps to know he brought such joy to you, Sir.
Thank you for coming. It helps to know someone ‘sides me remembers him”. She’d
sent him on his way with the medallion still around his neck and an apple pie.
Heath and Nick bantered back and forth, past the silent form of their elder brother riding between them. Nick shot his younger brother a silent look of concern as Jarrod’s mind replayed the conversation with Davey’s mother, mumbling something that Nick didn’t quite catch.
“What was that Jarrod?”
“Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness….” Smiling for the first time that day, he turned to ask, “Hey Nick, did you enter the marksmanship contest this year?”
“I always do, you know that!”
“Good.” He smiled a secret smile. “I wonder if there’s apple pie for sale? Let’s go brothers!” He let out a whoop and took off at a gallop, shouting “Loser buys!”
Notes:
There was no such thing as dog tags in use during the Civil War. The medallion in this story was not issued by the military. Officers often had gold or silver pins fashioned that were engraved with their name and service information in case they were killed in battle. Rank and file soldiers who were concerned that their bodies be identified and sent home to their families would pin notes inside their uniforms or mark them somehow. Some bought medallions, stamped with a design and engraved with their name and regiment. A few even listed the battles they’d fought in. These were hung on a leather thong and worn around the neck.
The carnage of the Civil War, when put in a modern
perspective is astounding. At the time of the population of the
Approximately 190,000 of the Civil War dead were battle deaths. For those who died in battle or shortly after, many were buried in mass graves. For many, the only way their families would ever find out what happened would be from officers who used the information on the medallions or pins to write letters home. Many families never knew where their loved ones were laid to rest.. 42% of Civil War dead remain unidentified.
The dog tag as we know it came into being first as a round
aluminum disk. In 1913