Author's note: This story takes place during the last half of the American Civil War. The war has already turned against the South. The casualty rates have devestated families in many Southern communities. A draft has been instituted. Unless a family held a large number of slaves, every male able to hold a rifle was suddenly called to fight for the Southern cause. As the war drug on, boys as young as 13 and men as old as 65 were expected to fill the already depleted ranks of the Army of Northern Virginia.

Chapter 7

Keeping up being Emma was no easy job away from the boarding house.

It meant getting up before dawn to bathe in a creek, with Rebecca keeping watch.

She dared not reveal her true identity to anyone else, not even her close friend Maggie.

She actually appreciated getting up before anyone else. It allowed her to reflect, to think. And her inner-struggle wasn't limited to returning back to Emmitt and joining the ranks of the soldiers in the war.

There was an equal desire to stay Emma.

It was a scenario Emma never would have thought of as Emmitt when the "charade" to keep a boy too young out of war began. Those first few weeks, it was an acting job of Emmitt pretending to be Emma, a strong-willed Southern girl.

But somewhere along the way, a line was crossed where Emmitt became Emma, where it was returning to being Emmitt that seemed more like pretend.

Emma embraced being female. And just as Emma was worried that Emmitt sitting out the war might be dishonorable, she dreaded the day when her body began to change that would point that inevitable path back to Emmitt. It was a path she was no longer sure she wanted to go back down.

And fortunately for her, there were no signs of that happening just yet. It was as if Mother Nature seemed content to go along.

She embraced being a girl, being feminine, being a lady.

Her sister saw that side, too.

Once in camp, Emma commented she wished she had the same type breasts that a very attractive nurse had.

Rebecca looked around to see if Maggie or anyone else was around when Emma said it. There wasn't.

She knew the comment wasn't pretend.

Or the day when a young, dashing soldier from Louisiana stopped and picked flowers for Emma. Emmitt pretending to be Emma would have been uncomfortable.

But Emma, the one who seemed to be emerging, not only cherished the gift, but gave the soldier a kiss on the cheek.

Another time, she was serenaded by the regimental singers, blushing and smiling, but soaking it all in, flirting with "the handsome men" in the group

The tenderness also showed with how she treated patients. She kissed them on the forehead. She embraced them when they needed embracing. She read to them, kissed their hands and whispered kind words to them.

"She is as natural a nurse as I've ever seen," Mrs. Ballew told Rebecca. "She has a quality to her that very few possess."

But yet, she fought breaking. Especially when she knew each morning would give way to a full day's fighting, and a full day's work. More wounded, more dying. It was hard for a 13-year-old to take.

And this particular morning of sitting and watching the birds and admiring the flowers was soon interrupted as it always was each morning ... with the roar of cannon fire.

*****

There was one advantage to the constant fighting, and it was constant.

The more fighting, the more dying, the more breveted promotions.

The 20th Ohio's new Company B commander, Ralph O'Malley, entered Andy's tent and informed Andy that he'd been breveted to second lieutenant. Lucien was promoted to sargeant. They took the places of poor lads who died in the previous day's fighting.

"Congratulations Andy," Lucien said. "You're an officer."

Andy didn't feel like celebrating, knowing full well that bravery alone didn't earn the promotion, but the death of a comrade also played a role.

And there would be more deaths to come on this day, the seventh straight of battle since General Grant started his Overland Campaign against Lee.

Under previous commanders, the Army of the Potomac generally rested, or retreated after major battles. Sometimes they didn't clash with the Rebs for weeks, or even months. That was not the case with Grant.

The Union army suffered heavy casualties at the Wilderness. But the army then moved on and engaged the enemy again at Spotsylvania. Andy lost track of what part of Virginia the army was at this point.

"I swear Grant wants us all to get killed," Andy confided to Lucien.

"Why not?" Lucien said. "He'll just replace us with fresh troops."

"Maybe that's his point," Andy said. "The Rebs are dying like we are. And they can't replace their troops like we can."

Death seemed almost a certainty to the point where soldiers in Andy's company sewed their names on their uniforms. That way, if they died, their bodies could be identified and loved ones back home would know their fates.

Andy stitched "A. Mueller" on his uniform.

"If something happens, maybe someone will know what really happened to dear Ol' Anna," Andy said.

Soldiers got rid of their acquired vices as well, playing cards, pipes, alcohol. They didn't want their loved ones to know they picked up those vices after joining the army.

That was one thing Andy found amusing.

*****

Emma wept on the steps of the hospital that had once been a Baptist church.

The young soldier from Louisiana who gave her flowers had moments before been on top of a table in front of her eyes. He was gut-shot. There was nothing she could do but try to comfort him, then watch him die.

She had to run outside. She needed some air.

"I think there are times when it might be better if we didn't know them," Mrs. Ballew said after putting her arm around Emma. "Rebecca told me he gave you flowers."

Emma shook her head.

"Why him?" Emma asked. "Why Papa?, why my brothers?"

"I'm afraid that's for the Lord to answer," Mrs. Ballew said. "I know I can't answer that."

Mrs. Ballew encouraged Emma to take a break, which Emma gladly did, heading at first back to her tent, and then choosing to take a walk by the creek.

She dared not wander far. She could hear the sounds of guns firing in the distance. The battle was still very much raging.

*****

"Captain, are you sure we're supposed to take that position?" Andy asked, pointing to a line of Confederates hunkered down behind a stone wall.

"Those are our orders, Mueller," Capt. O'Malley said. "Came straight from General Hancock himself."

"I swear, I don't think our commanders have any brains," Andy protested. "We'll get torn to pieces."

O'Malley didn't argue the point. He was once a member of the Irish Brigade that was all but destroyed at Fredericksburg.

"I've attacked higher hills and had to go a much longer distance," O'Malley said.

"Yes, but you didn't exactly make it," Andy answered.

"Mueller, you have your orders," O'Malley said.

Andy solemnley motioned for Lucien and ordered the troops to advanced. Just as they exposed themselves, the Confederates opened fire.

Several men fell.

But still, they moved forward. Andy didn't like to retreat under most circumstances. This as not one of those times. She hoped for a sound of a bugler's call.

It didn't come.

Slowly, Andy led his men up the hill, taking cover behind any tree or boulder on the way up. They returned fire when they could.

They almost reached the top when he ordered Lucien's men to take the lead.

Lucien was shot in the head. He fell immediately. He was killed instantly.

Andy rushed to his side, and felt a stinging pain in the shoulder, and then saw the blood. He realised he'd been shot.

Just then, the sound of the bugle came from behind.

What was left of Andy's men was ordered to retreat. There was chaos as the men tried to flee amidst a hail of bullets.

Andy kissed Lucien on the forehead, fired a few shots toward the Confederate line and began to flee, trailing most of the rest of the company.

The Confederates paused from shooting in a nod to Andy's bravery.

Andy began to feel dizzy, tripped over a long, fell to the ground and then blacked out.

*****

Emma heard the guns cease, and then heard shouting in the distance.

She wasn't supposed to go near the battlefield, but curiosity got the best of her.

"I can keep a safe distance away," she thought as she walked toward the creek.

She then saw a startling sight. A body lying next to a log was wearing Union blue. She feared the soldier might be dead as she approached the body, but then she saw breathing.

She pulled a handkerchief out of the small bag she was carrying and rushed over to the creek and dipped it in the water.

She walked over to the lanky, thin soldier and wiped it on his forehead. She noticed the "A. Mueller" on the soldier's jacket and became even more startled when the soldier came to.

The soldier looked up and saw the sun shining through Emma's blonde locks. The soldier noticed Emma's blue eyes and small birthmark on her cheek.

"Are you an angel?" the soldier groggily asked.

Emma tried not to laugh and began tending to the soldier's wounded shoulder.

"No, I'm Emma," she said with a smile.

"Then I'm not dead," the soldier named Andy replied.

"No, you are very much alive," Emma said reassuringly. "That is unless we don't get this shoulder treated."