In the east the Confederacy is reeling. While it hasn't yet lost the war, it has been knocked down hard. The Confederate Government sets up shop in Raleigh, N.C., with the first meeting of Congress there on Nov. 3, 1862. But there are differences by now elsewhere, too.

The first change of significance is the Southern attitude. Word of the fall of Richmond has spread west by now, and it has brought CSA morale down a notch. Tales of Gen. Jackson's death haven't exactly helped. As a result, the Southern raid on the Northern supply depot at Holly Springs, Mississippi on Dec. 17, 1862 (Dec. 20 OTL) fails. The resistance against Grant's push for Vicksburg is a lot weaker than OTL. Vicksburg surrenders on Feb. 11, 1863 after an extended siege. Port Hudson gives up on Feb. 15. Johnston retreats to Jackson, Miss. But Sherman sieges that city, and it too falls on Feb. 20.

Lincoln makes his Emancipation Proclamation New Year's Day 1863. It is worded exactly the same as OTL, except the areas where slaves are declared free are less (since more territory is now under federal control).

In the meantime, Rosecrans wins the Battle of Stones River (Murfreesboro, Tenn.) from 12/31/62 to 1/2/63, pretty much just like OTL.

West Virginia secedes from Virginia and applies for admission to the Union on Apr. 20. The new state is formally admitted as a free state on Jun. 20. (The same as in OTL)

In general everything proceeds as a greatly accelerated version of our own ACW. The loss of Tredegar Iron Works has severely hurt the CSA war material supply. The Battle of Chancellorsville is fought April 1-4, 1863 and results in a close Rebel victory, rather than the overwhelming one in OTL. Jackson's absence hurts the South, but Lee is able to pull things out. Barely. McClellan secures the northern half of Virginia by the end of April, but takes until the middle of October to get the whole state. (I found it implausible to change McClellan's whole nature, although being incautious just once and having it be a smashing success does help.)

Arkansas mostly falls to the Union in May 1863, rather than July OTL. Rosecrans and Burnside plow through Tennessee by the end of August. In OTL Longstreet arrived with 2 divisions to help there in mid-October. Here a similar request was made, albeit earlier. But it was decided by both Davis and Lee to keep Longstreet where he was, as the Eastern Theater was more important. Rosecrans then moves on to invade Alabama. Lincoln never appoints Grant as head of the Division of the Mississippi since there is no need seen to fix what has gone wrong in Tennessee. Instead it is Grant, with Sherman under him, who goes through Georgia. All of Georgia and Alabama are in Union hands by year's end. Lee, who has been pushed into North Carolina, asks McClellan for his terms of surrender on Feb. 11, 1864.

Part 8.1: We Can Be Heroes I

Northern North Carolina backwoods
November 24, 1863
9:39 AM

The Confederate captain was morose. It was hard not to be morose when your side was losing the war as badly as the Confederacy was. His horse had keeled over and died two days ago, and now he was making the rest of his trip on foot. The Southern troops he was detailed to reach were another three days march away. And he was doing this alone, because what was in the town he set out from four days ago was secret. The heavy contents of his saddlebag made it tough going.

Assuming he hadn't gotten lost, of course. Which he was convinced he had. Worse, he thought he was too far north. So beginning yesterday, he had begun veering further south. But it didn't help.

"Halt right there!" a voice called out. "Keep your hands where we can see 'em, you dirty Reb!" The captain considered going for his Tredegar, but thought better of it when he saw three Union soldiers advancing out of the brush toward him. He was outnumbered, and they all carried good-looking Springfields.

"Let's kill 'em right here, Big Jim," said the one who'd spoken before. A bald sergeant shook his head.

"No, boys," replied the sergeant, who clearly had no issue with not being called sir by his subordinates. "Look at his uniform. He's a captain. He's wearing Union boots, but he's a captain with the Rebs. I'm betting that he knows something worth letting him live."

So the Northern troops took the captain back to their camp. They sat him down at a table and left one of the men who'd taken him as a guard.

Across the tent, Lt. Morris Franks looked over with interest as "Big Jim" walked up to him. "Sir," Jim said, "we got a present for you, it looks like. Picked him up a little bit south of here. Rebel Captain. All by himself. You're better at interrogations than I am."

Franks muttered, "Might as well go talk to the man, then."

Franks walked over to the other side of the tent. He sat down next to the new prisoner. "So, what does a captain such as yourself go out into the wilderness alone for? No lieutenants, sergeants, none of your company? A little out of the ordinary, if you ask me."

"Please," begged the captain, "don't hurt me."

"Now, Captain, you may be the enemy, but you're still a soldier, and I have some respect for that. What's your name?"

"Captain Beauregard Joseph. All I'm required to tell you."

"Well, they don't seem to have searched you yet. I can do that without hurting you." Franks patted the captain down quickly. The man seemed to be too scared to think of resisting. If he had, the guard would have shot him anyway. The captain had nothing that a search of his person revealed. Franks looked down at Joseph's saddlebags next. "They tell me you were on foot."

"Not when I started out from my camp. I was on a horse then. He died two days ago after I rode him too hard. I was trying to get to nearby troops to deliver them orders to go to a town. But your men found me." Joseph winced as he realized he had given Franks some information.

"This town, what's there? Were they supposed to meet other troops to go off in a new direction?" The captain said nothing, but his face spoke volumes. There were other troops in this town, but the facial expression had changed to let Franks know he'd missed with the second half of the question. "No... they were supposed to stay in the town. What's worth keeping them there?" This time the Southern officer's face showed nothing.

"Well, then," Morris went on, "I can't get anything further out of you. I might as well look at these bags." Lt. Franks picked up one saddlebag. Not much there - some hardtack, salt beef, and a little ammunition. Leaving it on the table, he picked up the other. It was heavy. It was, in fact, much heavier than it should have been. He tipped the saddlebag upside-down over the table. The gold bar fell out and clunked heavily on the wooden surface.

Morris stared at the bar and then blinked. When he opened his eyes, it was still there. "Perhaps you'd better explain," he told the prisoner.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Yankee."

Morris considered this for a second. He realized the gold bar was already tough to believe, so any story would only clear things up. "Go ahead," he told Joseph, "make my day."

Part 8.2: We Can Be Heroes II

Lt. Morris Franks found Sergeant Gramcape at his post in charge of the supplies. "Gramcape, we need to talk. Are you available?"

"Sure, I'm available. What do you need?" the supply man answered.

"Food, rounds and supplies for a two-day trip south. It'll be well behind the front, and it looks to stay that way for a while as long as McClellan is in one of his stationary periods. If this expedition does well, he might be inspired to get moving, though. I've got myself, Big Joe's men, and I need an artillery crew too. I'll be taking care of that after I talk to you. You're welcome to come along if you like."

Gramcape scratched his nose, then his chin. "Small expedition. What do the brass expect it to accomplish?"

"Nothing," Franks said, "because the brass doesn't even know about it. This is a strictly unauthorized jaunt."

"Well, now, that's interesting. Why should I give you supplies for an unauthorized trip into Reb territory?"

"Because," and here Morris smiled, "it'll make you a rich man."

"Oh, really. Well, I suppose I'll listen to this, because you made me curious."

"We captured a Reb captain this morning. He told me he'd been sent to find a company of troops and give them orders to reinforce the bunch defending this town south of here. Those troops never got the message. The men in that town are in need of help. You know why they're protecting the town?"

"No," said Gramcape, "why is this town so important that you need to go off on your own to take it?"

Morris pulled out the bar of gold from inside his jacket pocket. "That's why. The South has stashed a significant part of what gold it has left in the only bank in this town. Seems they never got around to moving it to a safer place, and now they have to defend it from the North. But they think no one in the Union forces knows it's in the town, so we have an advantage. At least until someone realizes that officer went missing."

Gramcape's jaw struggled to work itself. "H-how-how much gold is in this town?"

"Eleven thousand bars. Twenty ounces each. You do the math."

"Well, let's see." The supply man took a moment to find paper and pen, then inked the pen. "You want to use the officially set government price, which I know is $20.67. You could use the speculated price in greenbacks, but that isn't as good. (1) Eleven thousand bars times twenty, ummm, times 20.67... I get $454,740. That's a fortune for one man for life. If we keep this small, we'll all still come out nicely."

"But we still need enough men to win the battles. It is inside Reb territory," Morris countered.

"Right," Gramcape told him, "and don't forget the weight. Gold is heavy. I don't know if you want to carry your share for weeks or months. I may be able to find a way for us to unload it. A supply man always has his connections. By the way," the supply sergeant added, "what's this town called?"

"Rocky Mount," Lt. Franks said, "Rocky Mount, North Carolina. Now I'm going to see about that artillery."

Morris found Lt. McClintock and his crew a short distance away. Their cannons didn't look to have been used in a while. The artillery crew was lying on the ground napping, and McClintock himself was sitting against a tree. "Well, McClintock, if doing nothing were a virtue in this army, you'd be a general by now," Franks claimed genially.

The artillery officer looked up. "Franks," he said, "if stupidity was a virtue, you'd be running the whole war... and still losing." McClintock smiled then. "How are you?" he asked rising to shake the hand of a friend.

"Good. Better than good. What would you say if I told you I had a reason for your crew to see some action, a reason you'd all like?"

"I think I'd say you were a mangy cur and a dotard, but I'd be wondering what the reason was."

Morris didn't say anything for a calculated moment, then, when he thought his pause had achieved the proper effect, spoke up. "Four hundred fifty thousand dollars in Confederate gold bars. The Rebs are holding it in a town a day south from the lines. Our brass doesn't know about it. I'd like to keep it that way."

"$450,000? Sure, we can be heroes for $450,000," McClintock turned toward his men. "How about this, boys? How would you like to go into battle and come out rich?" The artillery crews whooped enthusiastically.

"Actually, to be exact, it's $454,740," Morris said. "But we need artillery. I'm not going if you say no. Men have got to know their limitations."

"Oh, we say yes!" Just then Gramcape came running up.

Franks turned around. "What is it, Gramcape? Don't tell me something's wrong."

"No, it's not that. The connections are coming through. The food is set up and I'm waiting on the rounds. But I wanted to tell you I got the 'rithmetic wrong. Misplaced a decimal somewhere. It's not $454,740. It's $4,547,400."

Morris whistled softly. The artillery men stood up and cheered.

Part 8.3: We Can Be Heroes III

Northern North Carolina backwoods
Command Tent, Army of the Potomac
November 25, 1863
7:55 AM

Col. Thomas Key liked reporting to his superior about as much as he liked a case of dropsy. George B. McClellan was not known as a sensible man despite his successes of the last year. Now he was going to be presented with news that would leave him either infuriated or ecstatic... depending on how it was presented.

"Sir, we may have something of interest going on behind the front."

"Is that so, Colonel Key? What are the rebels up to now?"

"That's the problem, General. It may not be the rebels. Reports are not very clear, but there seems to be fighting going on a day's march south of here. Well behind enemy lines. We don't know what it is, but some men have gone missing from our side."

McClellan seemed to ponder this for a few moments. "An unauthorized attack by our men? What fool with a head full of meat thought this up?"

"I don't know who ordered it, sir. But I do know one thing: the scattered news we're getting says our men are winning, authorized or not. They've pushed into Rebel-held areas and are still pushing south. If the Confederates see that it's just one small band of soldiers, though, they'll move men to cover the space between the front and this group of our men. Then any gains they made will be lost."

The general they called Young Napoleon stood up, then started to pace. "How would you handle this, Colonel?"

"Well, sir, if we move other elements south quickly, we can consolidate the gains they made with little effort. The Rebels seem to be cleared from the area in question. It's not an authorized mission, sir, but it's working. I suggest we make it an authorized one, and then you could claim it was your idea the whole time. It might bode well if you want to run next year, or four years after that."

McClellan's eyes brightened. The way to the man's heart was through his pride, that was certain. McClellan hadn't been this excited since one of Lee's battle plans had fallen into his hands last September. Key knew how well that had gone. Now here was another golden opportunity. It was a chance to cover himself in glory that had been achieved before he was even involved, with little risk of failure. "Mobilize the men, Key," he ordered, "I want us ready to move within the hour."

"Yes, sir."

Just north of Rocky Mount, NC
9:01 AM

Morris Franks looked down on the small town with trepidation. It was undermanned as he expected. But it still carried a formidable force of Confederates. "I count four cannon from this distance, and maybe 50 infantry. No sign of cavalry. Maybe they were supposed to be part of the reinforcements," he observed out loud.

McClintock nodded. "Yeah, it's more than we have. We can only hope they aren't expecting us."

"All right... Big Jim?"

"My boys are ready. Let's move in."

The advance into the town was slow, but eventually they were within sight of the bank. Franks, Gramcape, and Big Jim crept down an alley when a cannonball blasted the wall above them to pieces. Franks shoved Big Jim away from the danger area. Then he ran forward and got out of the way, with Gramcape right behind him. The piece of wall landed, and he heard a yell. Franks and Big Jim turned around to see Gramcape with his left leg pinned under a large pile of bricks.

"Gramcape," Morris asked, "how is it?"

"Oh, I still have my leg, and I don't think it's wounded too bad," the supply man told him, "but I can't move it with all these bricks on top. They're too heavy. I'd take too long getting them off; I'm a sitting duck here."

Franks thought a minute. "Big Jim, can you help him with the bricks? I'm going to find where McClintock got to and see if he can get rid of that Reb cannon."

"Don't worry. Who loves you?" the bald sergeant said.

McClintock shook his head. "Sorry, Franks, we fought hard enough getting here. I used my last shell five minutes ago. We're going to have to think of something else."

Part 8.4: We Can Be Heroes IV

Rocky Mount, NC
November 25, 1863
9:17 AM

Lt. Morris Franks of the United States Army picked up a brick and heaved it off to the side. It might take a while to clear away the pile of bricks enough for Gramcape to get out. It was time that wasn't available. He looked at McClintock. "Any ideas?" he asked.

The artillery sergeant shook his head. "No, we're up a creek. If we leave Gramcape, he's a sitting duck. If we don't, we all are. And if we do go to take on that cannon, we'd still be outgunned."

Gramcape opened his mouth then. "What if we give them a piece?"

McClintock looked puzzled. "A piece of what?" But Franks thought he knew what the supply man meant.

"You know, a piece of the action. Do they know why they have 'em protecting that bank? If we told 'em what's in there, they'd think twice about following orders. Especially since the Confederate Army ain't going to be around much longer. Who'll they catch hell from? Who knows... maybe one's got some Vanderbilt blood in him."

"That's a hell of an idea, Gramcape! Why don't we try it?" McClintock exclaimed.

"All right," Morris agreed. "You, me, and Big Jim go out there and offer a deal. Keep your rifles down... we want them to know we're there to talk, but we'll start shooting if we have to."

The three Union soldiers walked into the street toward the bank. The Rebel artillery gun was manned by two soldiers. There didn't seem to be any others nearby. Franks guessed that the gun had been undermanned for some time, as there were no corpses near it.

The men were a sergeant and a corporal. Morris wondered if their superiors were dead, and why they hadn't been promoted to fill the absence. The sergeant stepped forward. "Damyankees. Y'all here to give yerselves up?"

Franks smiled and endeavored to stay civil. It'd be tough bribing the enemy if you got them angry. "No," he told them, "there's three of us here and two of you, plus we got others further back. But I was wondering if you wanted to give yourself up, and not because we got you outnumbered. You still got that cannon, after all."

"Give ourselves up? No, we here have been ordered to defend this building at all costs. I believe in the South, and I'll be followin' my orders. You all can tell yer bosses in the Northern army that we South'ners don't give up."

"That's a nice sentiment, but we aren't here for the Union Army. We don't represent the North right now. With luck, the Union Army has no idea that we're even here. We're here for ourselves, you see."

"I don't follow yer meaning, Yankee. Lieutenant...?"

Morris decided he didn't want the rebel cannon man to know his real name. "Wales. Lt. Joseph Wales."

"Well, Joe... can I call you Joe?" The southerner didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Perhaps you'd better explain a bit better."

"Have your superiors told you what's so important about the bank behind you? No?" he guessed, "well, it's a bank. Think about that for a minute."

The two rebels' faces shone as realization hit them. The corporal spoke for the first time. "You mean... y'all're here to rob a bank?"

"That's right," Big Jim said. "In that building the Confederacy has hidden eleven thousand gold bars."

McClintock took up the thread of conversation, "That's right. Gold is scarce in the South these days, so you can figure why they boys in Richmond want that bank protected. That much gold comes to about four-and-a-half million dollars in the North. In the South, that much gold would get you enough paper to fill every inch of that bank."

Franks concluded the offer, "And it's up to you. We're willing to give you an equal share. All you need to do is blow the door to that bank and let us in."

The door was open in two minutes. Most of that was spent by turning the cannon around. The three Northerners walked in, followed by several of Big Jim's men. The two Confederates came in from a side door. "Hey, wasn't the front the only entrance? How'd that side door get missed by us?"

"I don't know, but we're in, and that's what matters. Now let's get this gold cleared out before the rest of the Union forces show up. I have a feeling someone may have heard of our exploits by now."

11:34 AM

Gramcape had somehow found a wagon and a team of horses to pull it, and he had commandeered the driver's position for himself. The gold had been put in the spacious back. Franks walked up and looked him in the eye.

"Well, Gramcape, what's the take for each of us?"

"Hmm," the supply man told him. "Those two Rebs got theirs, and there're nine of us left, counting Big Jim's and McClintock's men. I already worked it out, and we each get $431,400. A nice bit of money to settle back on."

Franks grinned from ear to ear. "Yes, it is... look sharp! Here comes the General." Sure enough, General George B. McClellan, commander of the Army of the Potomac, came riding in on his horse, with his staff following. Every one of Morris's men straightened up. Gramcape climbed out of the wagon and came to attention.

"At ease, men. You've done a fine job here. You, Lieutenant, are you in charge of this effort?"

"Yes, sir, I am," Franks said.

"Good job. I may just keep my eye on you. You have initiative and you know when to use it." Franks had to stifle a laugh; he knew McClellan himself couldn't be counted on to show initiative when it was needed. Although the Young Napoleon had picked up a few lessons in the subject since South Mountain. He forced himself to stop woolgathering. McClellan was still talking. The army was coming south to meet them, he was being told. After settling in at the new front, another push south would be in order. The general finished, then rode off to the cheers of his men, none the wiser to what had really happened in this town.

Franks lifted the blanket hiding the gold in the back of the wagon, and watched the bars gleaming in the sun.

THE END

CREDITS:

Lt. Morris "Escape Artist" Franks/Joseph "Outlaw" Wales/"Kelly" CLINT EASTWOOD
Big Jim/Big Joe TELLY SAVALAS
McClintock/"Oddball" DONALD SUTHERLAND
Gramcape/Crapgame DON RICKLES
Gen. McClellan HIMSELF

Author of A Tale of Two Cities CHARLES DICKENS

Written by, Directed by, & Produced by me. Adapted from... well, if you can't figure it out...

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