I began to awaken. My vision was blurred, my head swam and throbbed with pain, and for a moment, I had no sense of time or place. Nor did I consider any physical aspects of my very being as I lay there, attempting to gain some measure of conscience. As if struck by a lightning bolt I heard the yelling of men, the savage war cries of the enemy and the whistle and crack of shot and rifles. I sat bolt up.
"Captain Davidson! Captain!" quickly I was aware of a soft, cool rag being wiped across my face and gentle hands easing my shoulders back down into what had turned out to be a very soft bed. A bed? How in the hell did I wind up in a bed? It seems like years since anything other than a cot, a tent or the open ground had been my place of rest. Where was I? Who is this? My head slowly rolled to the left. I began to focus now. Things were becoming clear. Next to the bed sat a woman. A handsome woman with dark hair pinned back tightly. An older woman, how old I could not say? Out here on the plains, life has a way of accelerating time far beyond what normally would progress back east. She wore a white cotton simple dress. I began to take stock of the situation. I was in a house. I was in a bedroom, in fact. Pictures of people I did not know hung on the walls, a dresser complete with simple fineries and even thin curtains hung from a glass pained window. Simple striped wallpaper decorated the walls. The sun was shining brightly outside. The woman was making soothing sounds. I could not disseminate a word until I recognized my name.
"Lieutenant Giles? Lieutenant Giles, it is ok. You are safe now. My name is Mary and I have been taking care of you. You were wounded, do you remember?"
Mary? I don't know anyone named Mary. Where the hell was I? I was wounded? I don't remember.
"Do you remember the fight with the dog soldiers? It is ok now. They are gone. You and your captain and the men drove them away. You were injured. I am Mary. You and your men were protecting my family and property."
"How long have I been here?" I mumbled as the haze began to clear. Thank God the pain in my head was beginning to subside slowly.
"Three days. You haven't been awake all that much. I bet you are hungry. I have some simple soup. Would you like some?" Now that she mentioned it, yes. Yes I was very hungry. I nodded. She feed me the first spoonful of what might have been chicken in broth. Hell, it could have been dog or horseflesh, I could not tell. Both are good in a pinch anyways.
"Where is the captain? My men?"
"Your men are fine. Most of them are posted around my property. Sergeant Truman is in charge. He is a very nice fellow. They are fine."
"Captain Davidson?"
"Your captain took a detail back about twenty miles to Ft. Sedgwick, to get supplies, reinforcements and get my daughters to safety until the uprising is fully quashed. I stayed here with you as there was no serviceable wagon in which to move you."
Now it was returning to me. The dog soldiers. Merciless band of renegade Indians having no loyalty to any particular tribe, therefore never feeling any need to observe any treaties or bounds of decent conduct that impaired their own interests. Most of the tribes feared them. Dog soldiers usually comprised mostly of Cheyenne but could include some of the best warriors from any the Sioux nation or neighboring bands. Supposedly they got their name from the French word for dog, "Chien", the original name given to the Cheyenne. This may or may not be true. They were responsible for the most savage attacks upon white settlements, farms, and rail or coach stations, even cavalry troops if they felt they had the upper hand. Often they did. This was a savage war here. Make no mistake; a war is what it was, too. Still, it seemed on the army and the settlers knew it was on. Back in Michigan, there was not a soul who wanted to hear of it. There were no great victories to be won, no triumphant returns for the frontier soldier. Not like there was in the late war, anyways. People either thought we were simply murdering innocent women and children and these peaceable children of nature or they thought maintaining a active army in time of peace was offensive and a grand waste of money to begin with. When I returned from my last furlough home, I had pretty much given up the dream of ever returning. Home no longer existed for me. My home was with my troop now. Reality was a blazing summer sun, snakes as thick as the flies, winters so cold as to be nearly unbearable and most of the time, the boredom so stupefying you could cut it with a knife. Female companionship was nearly non-existent.
"You and your men did a wonderful job,' Mary was explaining, ' you managed to kill maybe four or five, wounded twice that number and drove them away. They have not returned since."
