It’s a bit long, but here it is...my fic of General Sherman and his quest to find a lock of hair.
General Sherman leaned back in the wooden chair as his glance wandered towards the tent doorway, though there was nothing outside to distract him from the large stack of letters spread across the table before him. Yet again a certain Miss Katie from Ohio was requesting a lock of his hair. He had thought that ignoring the first, second, and third letters would have been enough to discourage the little lady. Yet here he was staring at her fourth letter, this one more demanding than the previous ones.
“Damn the woman,” General Sherman muttered as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his cigar. “Damn her letters and damn whoever it was that sent the first lock of hair.”
His young orderly glanced up from the unopened pile of letters he had been sorting, some from family and friends, but most from other generals or idiots in Washington. His orderly had his own tiny collection of letters, all from different women from around the country. Sherman tried not to think too much of that.
“You ever send a lock of hair to a young lady, Greenberry?”
“Lock of hair? No, sir. The ladies I know prefer other sorts of gifts. One time I gave a real proper lady from Kentucky a pony whip and while her husband was away she got me down on all fours and -”
“If you continue with that story I’ll court martial you.”
“Right,” he muttered. “Just trying to make a comment about gifts, that’s all. Sometimes it doesn’t need to be a lock of hair or a piece of jewelry. It’s the gifts of the heart that matter the most, isn’t it? It’s the memories we create that make us richer than any tangible item.”
Sherman stared at the young man. “You were speaking of committing quite vulgar acts with a married woman!”
“And it’s made my heart all the richer, sir.”
The general sighed. “I’m sure it has,” he muttered. He glanced at the letter sitting before him. “What am I to do about this Miss Katie?”
“Suppose you could just ignore her?”
Sherman scoffed. “That won’t do, she’ll send fifty letters next time.” He tapped his fingers against the table as he continued to puff on his cigar.
“There’s a letter from your wife,” Greenberry said as he held up an envelope. “Maybe you’d rather read this, sir?”
Sherman sat up straight. He had previously written to Ellen asking what to do about Miss Katie. “Give me that,” he said as he snatched it from Greenberry’s hands. “Ellen always knows what to do,” he said as he tore the envelope open. “Greenberry, find yourself a plain woman firm in her beliefs – don’t bother with those timid little ladies who wither the first time you utter a curse word. Strong women – they’re the ones who save you from your own reckless stupidity and always tell you exactly what you need to hear, even if you don’t like it.”
He smirked as he skimmed Ellen’s letter... surely his wife would have some words of encouragement. What he really wanted to do was send little Miss Katie a strongly worded letter telling her to mind her own damn business and stop wasting his time. He bet Ellen would have similar thoughts, she might have even sent a few suggestions of her own. Ellen was good at writing little lines that sounded polite but intended to cut clean to the bone.
“Let’s see, here we are,” Sherman said. He read out loud: “I intended to write to you that I should be indignant at any young lady who might get a lock of your hair as it is too thin to spare any except to me…”
Greenberry snorted as he laughed. Sherman had the idea to pick up his chair and hurl it at the young man. Instead he puffed out a large cloud of cigar smoke as he glared across the table.
“Too thin to spare?” Sherman muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair. “My hair is not too thin to spare!”
“Course not,” Greenberry stated. “It’s uh...luxurious and bountiful?”
He picked up the letter again and realized there was a tiny piece of cloth attached to the back. “What’s this?” he asked. He searched the letter again and read, “I enclose some of Rachel's hair which will do as well being very near the color of yours.” He quickly unfolded the fabric and found a tiny lock of bright red hair. He touched it cautiously as though it might shatter if he weren’t too careful. “Oh,” he said. It was all he could manage to say. He knew he was smiling stupidly, but he couldn’t help it.
“Mrs. Sherman solved the problem then, didn’t she? You can send Rachel's hair and say it’s yours.”
“Absolutely not!” Sherman said, it sounded more like a growl than he had intended. “This is Rachey’s hair! I can’t just mail it off to some silly fool who doesn’t deserve it.” He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a thin leather case. Inside were photographs of Ellen and the children. Carefully, he placed the lock of hair between two photographs and snapped the case shut before returning it safely to his pocket.
“There is an idea in that though,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced towards the tent doorway. “Who do we know who has red hair?”
Neither said a word. The only sound in the tent was the unnerving rhythm of Sherman’s fingers tapping loudly against the table.
“Captain Jerome Thackery has red hair,” Greenberry stated.
Sherman gave a mischievous little grin as he stared at his orderly. “Does he now? Perhaps we should go visit Captain Thackery.”
General Sherman eyed the young captain. The man’s hair was a bit brighter than his own, but he figured Miss Katie wouldn’t know the difference.
“Well, young man,” he said as he put a hand on his hip and gave a severe stare. “What do you say?”
The young captain glanced towards Greenberry. The two lads were almost total opposites – Thackery with his pale heavily freckled skin and bright red hair, and Greenberry with dark hair and eyes and a tan that hinted that he spent most of his time outdoors.
“No?” General Sherman barked. “What do you mean no? I’m your General, I order you to give me your damn hair.”
The young captain’s face turned bright red, almost as red as the hair on his head.
“But it’s an intimate gesture,” he said so low it was almost a whisper.
“Oh, for the love of God!” Sherman muttered. “You’re a soldier! You’re supposed to be vulgar and crude and...now I know some of you boys have wandered into a brothel or two so don’t you pretend to be offended by a lock of hair!” The young captain blushed even worse than before. “Why in the world are you blushing now?”
“Brothels are places of sin, sir,” Captain Thackery said.
“Sure are,” Greenberry stated as he grinned.
Sherman raised an eyebrow as he turned towards his orderly.
“I mean...uh,” Greenberry muttered as he glanced towards the captain. “Those horrible places of sin, how dare they exist. No man should ever go there and spend his hard-earned money on a blonde or brunette or perhaps both. Definitely not both at the same time, that’s double the sinning. Though I think maybe if you get yourself one girl who keeps her dress on while the other takes her dress off it probably cancels out the sinning, but you know they’ll still charge the same amount no matter what you’re doing to who – so your wallet feels the sin, but maybe your soul is only getting half the amount of sin. But I figure that’s probably alright. Of course, you could lay with only one lady, but they do say variety is the spice of life so -”
Captain Thackery paled as he stared wide-eyed at Greenberry. “I don’t like talk of such vulgarity. What if this Miss Katie is a woman of ill-repute? No, I cannot do it. The woman I give my lock of hair to will be the woman I marry. That’s final.”
The General stared at the young man. He was just a man after all. Men could fall. Cities fell. Vicksburg fell, didn’t it? Sherman smiled as sweetly as he could manage. He could outmaneuver this young man just like he did any rebel army.
“Well, if that’s your answer then I suppose we must accept it and respect your choice,” he said as he forced himself to continue smiling. “Thank you for your time, Captain.”
He quickly left the tent with Greenberry following close behind.
“You accepted that rather quickly, didn’t even try to convince him or nothing.”
“That’s because Vicksburg wasn’t taken in a day, Greenberry. We aren’t finished, yet. Come along.”
The ground felt cold and hard beneath General Sherman as he sat with his back against a tree. A large bush hid him from view and he leaned forward to peek between the branches. Straight ahead stood a small group of soldiers, Captain Thackery included in the group. They had drilled for nearly an hour before coming to a rest. Most of the men had wandered off, though a few still lingered. That was fine. That was exactly what Sherman wanted.
“Right, Greenberry,” he whispered. “Now all we got to do is get Thackery on his own. You’ll distract him and I’ll whack him over the head with this rock then we’ll cut some of his hair and -”
“You ever wonder if maybe one day man will go to the moon?” Greenberry interrupted. “What do you think that would be like?”
“What?” Sherman muttered. “Why in the world are you talking about the moon?”
“It’s an awfully pretty part of the sky, isn’t it?”
Sherman glanced up as though expecting to see the moon in the afternoon sky.
“Sir, it comes out mostly at night,” Greenberry said as he nodded. “Not sure if they taught you that at West Point or not.”
“I know when the damn moon comes out!”
“Do you though? I mean you just looked up -”
The general exhaled slowly as he glared at the younger man. “I was checking the clouds. I heard it was supposed to rain today.”
“I think you’re lying, you did look up right as I mentioned the moon.”
“Well, why are you talking about the goddamned moon in the middle of the day?” Sherman asked.
“The buttons on your coat reminded me of the round moon, that’s all.”
“What?” Sherman muttered. He stared down at his coat.
“I’m bored,” Greenberry explained. “My mind wanders when I’m bored.”
“You can’t be bored! We’re on a very important mission. Just be quiet and focus. Can you do that? Now, as I was saying – you’ll run out there and distract him and I’ll come up from behind and knock him unconscious and -”
“That sounds awfully violent, sir. What if you really hurt him?”
Sherman glanced towards the young soldiers in the field. “Well...I’ll do it gently.”
“You’ll knock him unconscious gently?”
The two men stared at each other for several silent moments.
“Yes,” Sherman finally answered. “Don’t question your general, Greenberry. I know what I’m doing.”
“They teach you to gently knock someone unconscious at West Point?”
“If you don’t be quiet I’ll execute you for treason,” Sherman said.
A twig cracked close behind. Sherman jumped as he glanced back and saw three young men gawking at them.
“General Sherman, is that you?” one of them called out.
“Shit,” the general whispered.
The blonde young man yanked a branch out of the way and stared curiously at Sherman and Greenberry. “Um, sir...just what are you doing here?”
“Hiding in the bush with my orderly,” he stated. All three men stared wide-eyed, the blonde grinned wildly as he looked Greenberry over from head to toe.
“No, that’s not -” Sherman sighed. “Mind your own damn business!” he growled. All three men jumped at the sound of his voice. “Now get back to work or I’ll send all three of you to the front of the lines next time we face the Rebs.”
“Sorry, sir! We’ll leave you be!” the blonde said quickly before all three turned and rushed away.
Sherman felt his chest heave up and down as he turned back towards Greenberry. He had to control his breathing or he was going to have an asthma attack. Just what he needed what to be found choking on his breath while hiding in a bush with his young orderly.
“You handled that beautifully, sir.”
“I can still execute you, you know.”
Greenberry smirked but said nothing. He turned back towards the field. “Oh,” he muttered.
“Oh, what?” Sherman asked. He sat up and pulled a branch out of his way. The field was empty except for a lone soldier smoking a cigar and casually walking back towards the camp. “Where’d they all go?”
“I imagine it’s time for lunch, sir.”
He leaned against the tree as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well that’s just life, isn’t it? You make plans and God just throws them all away!”
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No! I am never dramatic!” he snapped. “I am the least dramatic man you’ll ever meet, Greenberry!”
Greenberry snorted as he shook his head. “Course you are, sir.”
Sherman ignored the slight. “Enough of this nonsense. Vicksburg wasn’t won in the first attempt! We’ll just have to come up with another plan. Come on, let’s get lunch.”
With every passing hour came and went another plan that had failed. Either the Captain was nowhere to be found or slipped away the moment he caught sight of his General. But Sherman wouldn’t give up easily. It had taken a lot of awkward excuses and an exchange of a handful of dollars, but finally he had the final set piece in what he firmly believed would be the key to obtaining the lock of red hair.
Sherman burst into his tent with the clothing in hand. He smiled brightly as he held the dress out towards Greenberry.
His orderly yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. “What’s the next plan, sir?”
Sherman smiled wickedly as he sucked on his cigar. “You’re young and good looking.”
The general threw the dress as him. “Shave your beard, find a wig, and put on this dress. You’re going to woo the Captain!”
Greenberry frowned as he examined the lacy fabric as though he thought it might attack. “This is your plan?”
“It’s brilliant, isn’t it?”
“But sir...I’m not very womanly.”
“So? Tell him, oh I don’t know...tell him you’re from a long line of farmers. That’ll explain your physique.”
“I don’t want to wear a dress.”
“Oh, come on! You know Ulysess S Grant once wore a dress!”
“What? No! Not for me! Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know, you two seem pretty close so I just assumed.”
Sherman blinked repeatedly as he froze with his arms raised in midair. “Do people assume things about me and Grant?”
Greenberry shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. Do you want them to? I could start a few rumors if you want.”
“No!” Sherman shouted. “Why would I want that?”
“Maybe you’re trying to woo Grant but he doesn’t know, so if I start a few rumors word will get to him and he’ll know it’s okay to make the first move and when the war is over you and Grant can buy a little farm in the quiet countryside and he’ll plow the fields while you milk the cows and late at night you’ll read him Shakespeare as the fireplace casts a warm, orange glow over him, and he’ll get that sparkle in his eyes that will melt your heart and finally for once in your life everything will make sense and be beautiful.”
The two men stared at each other as the silence grew between them.
“Well, you’re the one who brought up Grant dressing up for you and doing who knows what.”
“He wasn’t dressing for me! He was acting in a very sophisticated production of Shakespeare that required him to wear a dress.”
“Sir, I really don’t want to know about your roleplaying games.”
Sherman exhaled a cloud of smoke as he glared at his orderly. “Put on the damn dress, Greenberry.”
“I don’t want to. Maybe you oughta do it.”
“I can’t do it. The Captain would recognize his general.”
“I met him! He’ll recognize me.”
“He barely looked at you, don’t be so dramatic. We’ll get you dolled up and he’ll fall for your charms.”
“I don’t even know how to woo anyone.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Sherman said as he grinned. “All you gotta do is talk a lot about whatever they’re interested in. That’s how I woo’d my Ellen. Ellen’s a very devout Catholic, so I used to write her pages and pages describing cathedrals I’d seen. When you get down to the details, describing every wooden beam and even the exact width of the windows – that’s how they know you truly care.”
Greenberry stared at him. “No disrespect intended, sir, but I find it very hard to believe that anyone would feel properly woo’d by reading a list of architectural measurements.”
Sherman’s mouth twitched. His mind raced as thoughts swirled around like a hurricane. Come to think of it, Ellen never did comment on his long letters about cathedrals, did she? Even when he had written nearly ten pages full of details – surely she must have realized it had taken him hours to craft such in depth descriptions. One time he had even fought off a priest who foolishly argued that taking out a tape measure and examining the windows wasn’t proper during a sermon. Well, what does a priest know? They don’t have to charm young ladies, do they? Ellen liked going to church, why wouldn’t she enjoy reading about churches? It was the proper way to express his knowledge of her interests, to signify that he cared. He was sure of it. So what if she never actually thanked him for the detailed essays. Maybe she found it all so beautiful that it left her speechless?
Sherman put his hands on his hips. “Ellen never said she didn’t enjoy reading my letters! And she did agree to marry me, didn’t she? I think it’s safe to assume she liked them and that I know all about being charming!”
“Alright, teach me how to do it. Woo me.”
Sherman chewed on his cigar. “What?”
“Woo me,” Greenberry stated. “Romance me so I can copy what you do.”
The General felt his cheeks flush. “Well… well it’s different if one’s pretending to be a lady. I obviously don’t know how to act like a woman -”
“Right, that was Grant. He was your lady.”
“What? No! That’s not - Greenberry, be quiet!” He exhaled slowly as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Right, okay – we simply need to be logical about this, don’t we? Women are demure and modest. They give out compliments. You should practice complimenting me in a modestly flirtatious manner.”
“Alright,” Greenberry said. He stood up and walked slowly towards the general, swinging his hips and batting his eyes. “Well, my, my. Never saw those before,” he said as he leaned close and put a long finger on Sherman’s shoulder straps. “Hard to crowd all those stars on one shoulder. From what I see, those shoulders are holding that weight up pretty well.”
Sherman swatted Greenberry’s hand away as he took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to practice this at all.”
“But I’m doing as you said, I’m complimenting your masculine shoulders that make my gentle feminine heart flutter.”
“Oh, this is stupid!” Sherman cried out. He pushed Greenberry away and collapsed onto a chair as though it were a fainting couch. “Nevermind, Greenberry. This isn’t going to work. You’re right, he’ll recognize you. Or he’ll think he’s sinning by glancing at a woman and probably shoot himself out of guilt. Though I suppose I could get a lock of hair off his dead body.” He stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “No, no...that wouldn’t work either. We can’t drive him to suicide for a lock of hair. Perhaps I ought to just send my own hair. But Ellen doesn’t want me to...it doesn’t feel right to go against Ellen.”
Greenberry sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now wait just a moment before you take any scissors to your own hair, sir. I’ll be back.”
Sherman watched the young man leave. He tapped his fingers against the armrest of the chair as he puffed smoke from his cigar. Moments later Greenberry returned.
“Here’s your lock of hair, sir.”
Sherman took a small cloth parcel from his orderly and carefully opened it to reveal a lock of shiny red hair. “Whose…?”
“I simply told him that you love all your soldiers like we were in a sort of bond. Like a marriage bond. I told the Captain he wasn’t giving his lock of hair to some unknown woman, but to his general who he has spent countless hours following through danger and uncertainty. And that we all have that sacred trust in you and know you’ll never lead us astray, so really a lock of hair is the least any of us could do to give thanks for all you do.”
“Oh,” Sherman said as he stared at the lock of hair. He felt his chest tighten and he coughed awkwardly to clear his throat. “Why that’s...that’s...well, we worked hard for this. Didn’t we?”
“Seems a shame to waste it on someone who won’t appreciate it.”
“That Miss Katie! Why should she easily receive this when you and I are the ones who did all the work. It doesn’t seem fair.”
Greenberry raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to keep the lock of hair?”
Sherman glanced off to the side. “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But now that you’ve mentioned it...don’t you think Miss Katie would prefer an autograph?” He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out the small leather case. Carefully, he placed the soldier’s lock of hair behind his daughter’s hair.
“I think an autograph would suffice,” Greenberry replied as he smirked. He sat next to the general and for a moment thought he saw tears in the man’s eyes.
“Damn asthma,” Sherman muttered as he quickly glanced away. “Makes my eyes water. It’s all this coughing I do.”
“You’re a good orderly, Greenberry.”
“You’re a good general, sir.”
Sherman coughed again as he ran his fingers through his hair. “How about we write a reply to Miss Katie then go find ourselves a glass of whiskey?”
“Sounds good to me, sir.”
