The Smoke At Dawn: A Novel Of The Civil War - Plot & Excerpts
He tried to hold back the sounds, wouldn’t wake anyone with his own grief, wouldn’t let the staff see what they already knew to be the worst tragedy of his life. The boy was only nine, had begged and cajoled to accompany his father as much as the boy’s mother would permit, and so the boy’s parents had compromised, Sherman taking him along in those places where the enemy was not. The ride through the camps, past lines of drilling soldiers, had been pure joy for the boy, the father very aware that the men responded with an extra bit of precision, making the best show they could for the oldest son of the commanding general. Sherman’s personal guard, a battalion of the 13th Regulars, had adopted young Willie as something of a mascot, which only heightened the boy’s rampant enthusiasm for spending time among soldiers. It had been curious to Sherman how much the troops accepted the boy’s presence, even encouraged it. He had seen that with Grant of course. Fred Grant was three years older than Willie, and so was able to ride a horse with a hint of expertise.
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