By Stan Dryer
(I’m not sure why no one was interested in publishing this story but I suspect that stories set in the middle of a war are hard to publish. )
In the spring of 1864, General William Tecumseh Sherman started his army south from Chattanooga aiming for the capture of Atlanta. On May 6, he came up against General Joseph E. Johnston’s army, well entrenched at Dalton Georgia.
The major had never witnessed a murder, the simple deliberate killing of a single individual for a definitely personal reason. He had seen plenty of killings, at Shiloh and at Chickamauga. But these had been random deaths, anonymous armies firing at each other. What he was about to see was quite different.
The major rode behind the lines until he saw the signal station set up on a bit of a rise. He dismounted and headed for the tent where he was most likely to find the lieutenant in charge. He pushed open the tent flap and found that signal man sitting inside staring at the pieces on a chess board.
“Sir!” The lieutenant jumped up from his seat and saluted.
“At ease, lieutenant,” said the major. “Headquarters wants you to keep checking the Rebel works to see if they’re about to retreat. Uncle Billy’s planning his next move.”
“Yes Sir,” said the lieutenant. “I’ll get right to it.”
The major looked down and studied the chess board for a couple of minutes. “You’re playing black,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Who are you playing? Is this a correspondence game?”
“No.”
“Then who are you playing?”
“Johnny Reb, Sir.”
“Johnny Reb? Who’s that?”
“I don’t know, Sir. It’s someone over at the Confed’s signal station. Here’s how we do it. I put up a move on a big slate and they read it with their telescope. Then they put up their next move on their slate. I read it, make the move on my board and so on.”
“I don’t believe you,” said the major.
“I’ll show you, Sir.” Outside the tent, the lieutenant handed the major his telescope. “It’s his move. Just take a look over to the right of that Secesh flag.”
The major adjusted the telescope and scanned the Confederate earthworks in the distance. “Knight to king’s bishop five,” he said.
“You’re a chess player, Sir?” said the lieutenant.
“I’ve played a bit. Let’s go check out his move.”
They went back inside the tent. The major moved the white knight, then studied the board for a minute. “You’re in a lot of trouble,” he said.
“Sir, I know it looks like I’m signaling the enemy,” the lieutenant said. “But it’s just been chess moves.”
“I don’t mean trouble about signaling the enemy,” the major said. “I mean trouble on this board. Look at what he’s done. Where are you going to move your queen?”
“Shit. You’re right. I don’t understand how he suddenly got so good. I beat him easy the two games we played yesterday.”
“Maybe you’re not playing the same Reb. They’ve probably rounded up a better player.”
“So what am I going to do?”
“This game’s too far gone. You’re going to lose, but we can go down fighting.”
“You’d help me with that?”
“Of course. And, if you don’t mind, would you let me play the next game?”
“Yes of course. Are you a rated player?”
“Let’s just say I’ve done pretty well in the tournaments I’ve played in.”
They played on, the lieutenant relaying the moves back and forth. After another four moves the major said, “It’s time to resign.”
The lieutenant studied the board for couple of minutes. “You’re right,” he said. “Mate in three.”
He wrote RESIGN on the slate, went outside and hung it up for the Rebels to see.
“When do we play the next game?” The major had come out of the tent.
“I guess we could start another right now. I played the two games back-to-back yesterday. You’ll be white so I can just put up your first move.”
They went back in the tent and set up the game. The first moves went quickly. The major would move a white piece; the lieutenant would note the move on his slate and disappear outside. A minute or two later, he would return and move a black piece.
Ten moves into the game, the Rebel exposed a knight.
“Look,” said the lieutenant, “you can take it and be one piece up.”
The major smiled. “Not so fast. He’s too smart a player. He wouldn’t expose a piece like that without a reason.”
He studied the board for a couple of minutes, then laughed. “That crafty bastard,” he said.
“Crafty?”
“Look. I take the knight; he moves that bishop there. I’m forced to move my rook; he moves his other knight there and puts my king in real trouble. However, I think I can give him back a bit of his own trouble.” He moved a pawn to threaten the exposed knight.
The lieutenant wrote the move on his slate and took it outside. He was a long time coming back. After he made the black move, he said, “You sure made him do a lot of thinking.”
“We’re both going to be doing some thinking,” the major said.
Two and a half hours later, the game moved into a tight end-game, until the major queened a pawn one move ahead of his opponent.
The lieutenant took the slate with the move out of the tent but was quickly back. “He resigned,” he said.
The major smiled to himself. “What a beautiful game. He’s one fine player. You don’t know how much I needed such an opponent.”
“I’m not that great a player,” said the lieutenant, “but it was wonderful to watch.”
“Shall I take him on again tomorrow?” said the major.
“We usually have started right at eight o’clock.”
“I’ll be here.”
The next morning, as the two officers were setting up the pieces for the game, the tent flaps were suddenly pushed open and a colonel came into the tent.
“Colonel Hutchenson, good to see you, Sir,” said the major as he saluted.
“At ease.” The colonel looked at the chess board. “We’ve had a report this signal station has been communicating with the enemy.”
“No Sir,” said the major. “It’s just a chess game.”
“Chess game?”
The major quickly explained.
“Very irregular,” said the colonel. “Who’s been winning?”
“The lieutenant here won a couple of games, Sir, and then lost one. I’ve played once and won.”
“If you’re able to beat whatever Reb is over there, and I always win when we play, no reason I can’t lick this Reb. Can I give it a try?” said the colonel.
“Of course, Sir. We just set up the pieces. It’s our turn to play black. I should warn you though. That Reb is a very aggressive player.”
“Not a problem. If you stand up to a Reb, he’ll cave in every time.”
The major watched what he knew would be a defeat. After a half hour, the black king was backed into a corner by a well-protected white bishop.
“Help me out, Major,” the colonel said. “You’ve had more experience than I have.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late, Sir.” The major pointed at a white knight and an empty square where it would threaten the black king. “It’s mate in two. I suggest you resign.”
The colonel stared at the board for over two minutes. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m going to lose, but I’ll play it out. None of this surrendering.”
When the lieutenant came back into the tent four moves later, he moved a white rook up against the black king. “Checkmate,” he said quietly.
They all stared at the board in silence.
Then the lieutenant said to the colonel, “Sir, you should come outside. There’s someone you should see.”
Outside the lieutenant handed his telescope to the colonel. “Look to the right of the Secesh flag, Sir,” he said. “There’s an officer over there waving at us.”
The colonel looked and handed the telescope to the major. “What do you think?” he said.
The major took a long look. “He’s an officer, Sir, what with the sword. He’s likely the Reb who was playing white. I think he just wants to see his opponent face to face.”
“Negative,” said the colonel. “I think he’s mocking me, rubbing my face in it.”
“I don’t think so, Sir,” said the major. “He’s probably just trying to say you were not enemies when you played chess.”
“Nonsense. I won’t take that kind of an insult. Come with me.” The major and the lieutenant followed him down the hill and into some works where two cannon stared out across at the Rebel lines.
“The gunner lieutenant standing next to the first gun saluted the colonel. “Sir?”
The colonel handed him the telescope. “Look over across there, just to the right of the Confed flag. You see a Rebel officer?”
“You mean the one who’s waving his hand friendly-like, Sir?”
“Yes. You think you could put a shot close by him. Give him a bit of a fright?”
“If you say so, Sir. You’ve come to the right battery. But I have orders not to fire unless we see at least a dozen Rebs together.”
“I’ll take responsibility,” said the colonel.
“The gunner nodded at his crew who came over to the gun. The gunner bent down and squinted through the gun sight. “Slightly to the right,” he said.
The crew moved the gun.
“Good. A bit more elevation.”
The crew made the adjustment and stepped back away from the expected recoil.
“Ready to fire, Sir,” said the gunner. He handed the colonel his telescope.
“Fire,” said the colonel.
The gun went off. When the smoke cleared, the major and the colonel focused on the place where the distant officer had been standing.
“He just disappeared,” said the colonel.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” said the gunner. “The shot was supposed to go over his head. I gave it too little elevation.”
“You actually hit the Reb?”
“Probably, Sir.”
“Good show,” said the colonel.
“They just fired on us, Sir” said the major, who had continued to watch the Confederate works.
The ground shook as a cannon ball smashed into the earthwork in front of the battery. “Lousy Reb powder,” the gunner said. “You want us to reply, Sir?”
“No,” said the colonel. “No need to start another war.”
He turned to the major and the lieutenant. “I think we’ve taught those Rebs some manners.”
“If you say so, Sir,” said the major.
The colonel turned and walked back to where a soldier was holding his horse. He mounted and rode away. He raised one arm in farewell but did not turn his head.
Back in the signal station tent, the lieutenant put the chess pieces back in their box and folded up the board. “I’m sorry that happened, Sir,” he said.
“Not as sorry as I am,” said the major. “I just found and lost a real opponent.”
“What I don’t understand, Sir, is why the colonel played such a poor game. He said he always won when he played you.”
The major smiled. “If you were a lot better at chess than your superior officer, would you win if you played him?”
“No, Sir,” said the lieutenant. “But I wish I had that problem.”
“I wish you did too,” said the major. “We could have had some challenging games.”
“I shouldn’t be asking this, Sir, but don’t you feel disgusted with the colonel for what he did?”
“No, I don’t. I respect him too much to be disgusted.”
“You respect him, Sir?”
“Yes. At Chickamauga, when Rosecrans and half his army retreated, Colonel Hutchenson stood with General Thomas when he held the line.”
“Thomas, the Rock of Chickamauga?”
“Yes.”
“And were you there yourself, Sir?”
The major frowned as he dredged up some unpleasant memories. “Yes,” he finally said, “I ran for Chattanooga right behind Rosecrans.”
At eight the next morning, the lieutenant went out of the signal station tent and focused his telescope on the Rebel works, hoping to see a chess move on a slate. Instead, he saw nothing. The Confederate flag was gone; there was no sign of life, just empty earthworks.
General Sherman had started to take half his army around behind General Johnston who, seeing the threat to his rear, had retreated.
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