Fighting Marines- Hardy's Challenge Read online

  Fighting Marines

  Lieutenant Hardy’s Challenge

  By

  Perry Comer

  Copyright (c) 2019 by Perry Comer

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  DEDICATION

  United States Marines Corps

  BOOKS BY PERRY COMER

  The Prize

  (Donland)

  The Messenger

  Donland and the Hornet

  Donland's Ransom

  Donland and the Hornet

  Raid on Port Royal

  Donland and the Hornet

  The Bond of Duty

  Donland and the Hornet

  Seige

  Donland and The Hornet

  The Snake Killer

  (Juvenile Action/adventure)

  God's Broken Man

  (Allan Brooks) (Christian Fiction)

  Myrtle Beach Murder

  (Allan Brooks)(Christian Fiction)

  Fall of Fort Fisher

  (Juvenile action/adventure)

  (Civil War)

  Andrew's War

  (Juvenile action/adventure)

  (Civil War)

  Fighting Marines: Hardy’s Commission

  (Florida Campaign)

  Chapter One

  Hardy woke with the sun in his eyes. He lay still, warm beneath the rough blanket. The weather had turned unseasonably cool after the furious storms, the blanket felt good. He was, for the moment, in no hurry to rise. The woman lay on her stomach breathing softly in deep sleep. The smell of sex still lingered in the room, it wasn’t to his liking, and it was time to be up and about. He carefully, placed a foot on the floor and slipped from the blanket. The room was cool; he picked up his trousers and pulled them on. His blouse and shirt lay atop of his boots. He stooped and picked up his uniform blouse and found his wallet. His money was still inside; he smiled. The doxie knew better than to steal from him for he would take the hide off her. She, like all the whores and wastrels in Saint Marys knew he would brook no thievery.

  He sat down in the chair and pulled on his boots. The woman slept on, he’d not disturb her, the innkeeper would see to her. His stomach roiled with hunger and he needed to piss. He considered the chamber pot under the bed but decided to leave it, he’d not bear the smell of it on an empty stomach.

  Two others had made their way to the dining room; they sat together. No doubt they were merchants by the cut of their dress. There was, surprisingly, more commence in the little town than he expected. He thought it most likely that the smuggling trade in Florida contributed to abundance of traders and merchants. He decided on a table across the room near the fireplace and its smoldering coals. A bit of heat would not come amiss on this cool morning.

  The serving maid came from the kitchen carrying a steaming pot of coffee and a cup. She placed both on his table and smiled. She knew him and his ways and she should for she had slept with him and he had been kind in settling his bills. He spent every Friday night at the inn leaving Lieutenant Brooks in charge of the camp on Cumberland Island. But, he was fair in giving Brooks one night a week in Saint Marys and the men likewise a night each. The arrangement worked well and kept the men’s spirits high. Captain Williams, on his last visit, had not approved. It mattered not that Williams disapproved, what mattered was that these men were ready to answer any order given. They had endured a cold winter in tents followed by a spring with more than its share of storms. There was little more to do than drill, clean weapons and patrol the island.

  Hardy was no fool and he had served under fools. Men under command depend on sound leadership and when they do not have it, the officer over them may well find himself alone in a battle. An officer survives by having those under him respect his judgment more so than his rank. Without trust, there is no loyalty when thrust and parry are the order of the day loyalty will see an officer through the thick and thin.

  The dark-haired girl with the large black eyes paused in the doorway. She caught his eye and smiled then turned away. Hardy smiled to himself, she had been a good tumble and well worth her price. He would consider another evening with her.

  Corporal Jones came through the door, paused and crossed to Hardy. “Lieutenant Brooks sends his compliments Sir. Enterprise has been sighted. He reckons the captain will be aboard.”

  “Aye, he is due to return. Have you a boat waiting?”

  “Aye Sir,” Jones answered.

  Hardy pulled a coin from his pocket and handed it across to Jones. “Buy the lads some bread and a bit of cheese. Keep them at the quay to render honors for Captain Williams when he comes ashore. I’ve time to finish my breakfast before the Captain sets foot on the dock.”

  Jones smiled, “Aye sir, there be time and the bread and cheese will not come amiss, thank you sir!”

  The boat was halfway to the dock when Hardy came from the inn. Captain Williams sat in the stern wrapped in a great coat. He thought it odd but perhaps the morning air was cooler afloat.

  “You men stand to!” Hardy commanded as the boat backed water. Williams looked up at Hardy but did not smile.

  “I’d not expected to be met by an honor guard,” Williams said after returning Hardy’s salute.

  Hardy smiled but remained silent.

  “Let us get out of this wind,” Williams said and set off towards the inn.

  “You are not well,” Hardy said to Williams as they walked.

  “I’ve a chill, had it since before leaving Washington. I believe it is considerably warmer here than there but the chill persists.”

  “Perhaps a night with a lady to warm you would rid you of the chill,” Hardy suggested.

  There was no humor in Williams’ voice when he said, “You would know, would you not?”

  Again, Hardy did not reply. He opened the door to allow Williams to enter first. “Coffee sir?” he asked.

  “Aye, and a dollop of rum in it,” Williams answered.

  They sat at the table near the fireplace. The serving maid came straightaway and Hardy ordered a pot of coffee and laced with rum.

  “John, you’ve more’n a chill if I’m any judge,” Hardy said.

  “Perhaps but it will pass in time. Is there a surgeon in this place?”

  “Aye, a bit of a snob but decent enough. I’d trust him.”

  “Very well, send a man to fetch him once we’ve concluded our business. What of the rooms in this inn, I’ve not stayed here before and I care not seek a room at the inn I stayed before.”

  “The rooms are sparse but I will have a word with the proprietor to have a room prepared and a fire built in the grate. It will be ready by the time we’ve the pot.”

  “Make it so if you please Tom, I’d be most grateful.”

  Hardy rose from the chair and crossed the dining room to find the innkeeper. He returned to find Williams with coffee in hand standing in front of the smoldering hearth. There was no one else in the dining room.

  “Your room is being prepared. A girl na
med Laurel will be seeing to your needs,” Hardy said.

  “And I have little doubt you have instructed her just how to care for my needs and paid her to do so,” Williams said without humor.

  “Aye, I have, as I would think you would do the same for me.”

  Williams managed as smile. He then said in hushed tones, “I’m to establish a permanent camp on the island.”

  “Gawd no, not on that sandspit!”

  “Aye, it is so. Commandant Wharton believes it is necessary to keep the Spaniards in check.”

  Hardy spoke his mind, “I’d hoped you had come to take me off and to some decent duty. Marooned on that sandspit, living in a tent keeping a log of ships coming and coming is not a fit duty for fighting men. The lads will not be taking to it no more than I will.”

  “You won’t be here Tom, I’ve enough men aboard for those duties. You will be going to Florida to patrol and discourage the smuggling trade.”

  Hardy’s attitude changed immediately, “Aye, I’d welcome a go at more of those bandits.”

  Williams pursed his lips as if to say one thing but said another. “I will discuss the details with you tomorrow. For now, go across to the island and see to settling the men coming across. Sergeant Austin will have charge of them.”

  “Aye sir, and what of you?”

  “To bed, one that does not swing and is laden with at least three blankets.”

  “Aye, just remember the maid Laurel will do your bidding.”

  “Speaking of maids, I’ve a letter for you,” Williams said and reached into his tunic. He handed the letter across to Hardy.

  Hardy’s eyes betrayed his curiosity and surprise.

  “A lady, I presume,” Williams said.

  Hardy examined the letter; it was posted in Boston and sent to the Marine Barracks in Washington. The handwriting was definite female.

  Hardy carefully lifted the wax with a fingernail. His eyes went first to the signature. “With heartfelt fondness, Julia.” He smiled broadly.

  “Good news?” Williams asked.

  “I’ve not read it yet, just the signature,” Hardy looked up and said.

  “I shall leave you to it,” Williams said while rising.

  Julia’s letter contained very little news. She stated she was well and that Archibald had sailed to England on business. To Hardy’s surprise, she said she missed him and would long remember their meal together at Applewhite’s Inn. He remembered the evening, remembered being enchanted by her and remembered being waylaid and beaten by Archibald’s bullyboys. There was a debt to be repaid. Sadly, he had to admit the debt would most likely not be repaid nor was it likely he would dine with Julia again. It would be for the best for she was, after all, his cousin.

  Coffin was waiting on the beach as Hardy’s boat crested a wave and was propelled onto the sand. “New men come ashore,” Coffin announced.

  “Aye, and their sergeant?”

  “More’n that, another young lieutenant,” Coffin answered as they strode across the sand.

  “What of him?” Hardy asked trying not to sound surprised.

  “Young chap, crisp uniform; put me in mind of Pissy Higgins, remember him?”

  “Aye,” Hardy answered and recalled the young man, an earl’s son who was not old enough to shave properly. Little bastard pissed himself when the Spaniards fired a volley from beyond musket range. From that day the men took to calling him Pissy Higgins.

  Coffin continued, “Sergeant with them, his name is Austin, seems a right proper soldier. He’s set his lads to clearing brush while they wait for their dunnage and supplies to come across.”

  “The lieutenant?” Hardy asked.

  “With Lieutenant Brooks, I figured it be best they met without you so Mister Brooks could sort him out without you having to do so.”

  “Wise choice,” Hardy said and patted Coffin on the shoulder.

  Coffin stated, “Austin said they was to make a proper camp.”

  Hardy grinned and said, “Aye, but we’ve no part in that. Captain Williams confided in me that we are bound for patrol. My guess is we’ll have another go at some bandits.”

  It was good news to Coffin’s ears.“ That would suit me, better than sitting and picking fleas off my arse.”

  They arrived at Hardy’s tent and he lifted the flap and went in. He removed his hat and plopped down into the chair. Coffin also sat and asked, “When do we march?”

  Hardy lifted the bottle and poured a generous amount of whiskey into a tin cup. “Captain Williams is ill so it may be a day or two before he sends for me. We have time to prepare.” Hardy said and downed a gulp from the cup. “You fancy a drink?” he asked.

  “Thank you but no, I’ve my own,” Coffin said and produced a flask from inside his blouse.

  There was a scrunch of sand; boots appeared under the edge of the flap.

  “Enter!” Hardy shouted.

  Brooks lifted the flap and entered followed by a young man about his size but younger. The two could have been brothers. The most notable difference was that Brooks’ hair was darker.

  “Beg pardon sir, I’m to present Lieutenant Nichols attached to Captain Williams,” Brooks stated sheepishly while saluting.

  Nichols also saluted.

  Hardy returned the salute but did not rise.

  Nichols stepped past Brooks. “Captain Williams respects Sir, he has sent me across to liaison with you as we make preparations for a new camp. I am to relay his orders to you and to assist you in implementing such orders.”

  Hardy was not amused. He turned to Coffin, “That will be all Sergeant Coffin, you may return to your duties.”

  “Aye, sir,” Coffin replied. He was still grinning as he brushed past the officers.

  Hardy asked, “Are you to remain in the camp until Captain Williams comes across?”

  Surprised showed on Nichols’ face, he answered, “Aye sir, those were his instructions.”

  “Very well then, you will share Lieutenant Brooks’ accommodations. I’m certain you will find them suitable.” Before either could reply Hardy added, “That is all gentlemen!”

  Hardy remained in his tent until the sun was low in the sky. When he came out he called to Corporal Jones, “I’ll have the boat.”

  “Aye sir, I’ll fetch a crew.”

  While he waited he surveyed the small camp of a half dozen canvas tents. He tried to imagine a camp of wooden and brick structures. He mused that Captain Williams would find the construction of such a camp a challenge. “Better it be his,” he whispered and started for the beach. He would welcome a jaunt into the jungle.

  The first person Hardy saw upon entering the inn was Laurel, he went to her. “Have you opportunity to see to the needs of Captain Williams?” he asked.

  Her face twisted into a frown, “I tried but he’d not allow me to enter.”

  “Did you go in while he slept?”

  “I attempted to do so but he placed a chair against the door,” she answered.

  “Has the surgeon been round?”

  “No, shall I fetch him?”

  “No, let us go up and I shall bang on his door.”

  She nodded and followed him up the stairs. He stood at the door and listened, hearing nothing; he banged on the door and called, “Captain Williams!”

  There was no answer.

  “Captain Williams!” Hardy shouted.

  Again there was no answer.

  Hardy shouted, “Report Mister Williams!”

  A weak voice said, “aye” from beyond the door.

  Hardy smiled and said, “Captain Williams it’s Hardy!”

  From beyond the door came the sound of feet on the wooden floor followed by the scraping of a chair being moved. The door opened.

  Williams stood in the doorway wrapped in a quilt. He was wearing socks on his feet and his uniform pants were visible from the knee down. “What is it Tom?” he asked.

  “I’ve come to see about your health,” Hardy answered.

  Williams turned
from the door and crossed back to the bed. He sat down, ran his tongue across his lips and said, “Better.”

  Laurel brushed past Hardy and lifted the water pitcher from the sideboard and poured water into a tin cup. She held it out to Williams. He took the cup and drained the contents. “Thank you Miss,” he said as he handed back the cup.

  “Will you come down and dine?” Hardy asked.

  Williams stared at Hardy and nodded. “I’ll meet you in a moment,” he managed but did not rise.

  “Laurel assist the Captain, I shall go down and see to our meal,” Hardy said and turned for the door.

  Williams came down a quarter hour later. He was freshly shaved and appeared to be a bit stronger although his eyes were dull and sunken.

  “I’ve ordered a stew of rice and chicken,” Hardy said as Williams sat.

  Hardy poured wine into the glass in front of Williams. There was no recognition in Williams’ eyes. He sat blank-faced staring into nothingness.

  They sat neither speaking until the bowls of stew were placed on the table.

  “What’s in it?” Williams asked.

  “Rice, chicken, tomatoes, peppers and potatoes, sometimes they add bits of shrimp. You’ll be needing a goodly amount of wine because of the seasonings.”

  Williams studied the bowl and sighed. He picked up a spoon and dipped up a piece of chicken. He sighed again and put the spoon in his mouth. After a moment he said, “Better than I expected.”

  The serving girl reappeared carrying a large loaf of bread. “Fresh just this morning,” she said while placing the bread in the middle of the table.

  Williams ate slowly and with great care. It seemed to Hardy that his friend was forcing himself to eat. He considered that the stew may not be to his liking or his stomach troubled him. It mattered not; he did not comment and chose instead to devour his meal.