Eyewitness Account
    News that a Confederate army was marching on Salem electrified the region. Your reporter, arriving early in the morning at the crucial road junction just east of the sleepy town, was greeted by a gruff sergeant. His thick brogue identified him as a member of the 69th New York--the renowned "Fighting Irish"--without having to look at his unit badge. That meant that the "Legends Brigade" was defending Salem. This would be a fight to remember!
    The junction was chaotic. Troops were scurrying everywhere. Long columns of blue-clad infantry marched past row upon row of gleaming Napoleon field guns. Everywhere troops were throwing up breastworks and digging trenches. They seemed to be in a hurry. The enemy must be near.
     A few hours later I finally located Gen. Hill (called "Old Kiwi" by his men) at the orphanage, not far south of the junction. "Get those kids out of here" he was bellowing to a Lieutenant. "I want sharpshooters in those upper windows. Tell MacArthur's Wolverines to dig in at the head of the lane where these buildings will channel the attack." With him was his second-in-command, Col. "Buttercup" Smith, known throughout the army as a wily tactician.  I asked him why he did not fall back, if he was facing such overwhelming numbers. "I can't even spell fallback, too many syllables" he growled. "This my town and they aren't the first to try and get off me."
    Too busy to talk, Gen. Hill turned me over to Col. Stahl, commander of the Legends Brigade. He seemed an oddly inexperienced officer to be in such an important position indeed he has not yet graduated. "I'm only a brevet Colonel," he explained. "General Clawson is down with swamp fever and I was pressed into service for the emergency." He seemed unconcerned, even enthusiastic, about the upcoming battle. "Gen. Hill has a few surprises for the rebs," he confided. "They are walking into a trap." Whether this is just bravado or not, time till tell--and soon.
    I was directed to a prominent hill just west of the orphanage as the best place to observe the opening of the battle. The hill is occupied by the First Connecticut Artillery, whose huge Parrot rifles will fire the first shots. From the clouds of dust rising to the south it appears we will not have long to wait.
W. Austin Dwyer
Reporter

In an unfortunate incident one of the Rebel Officers has inadvertently included General Hill in the Rebel's tactical discussion when he dropped some cigars that were wrapped in a scrap of paper covered in notes from an officers briefing. The note was forwarded to General Hill who was observed to chuckle before having the cigars sent to General Voege. The identity of the unfortunate officer concerned will become known should a more deserving nomination not be forthcoming.









Salem Residents "Fickle" Says Reb General!

Upon finally being granted an audience with General Smyth, I picked myself up and quickly made a mental review of my questions. He sat alone at the top of the bluff, on a simple wooden chair beneath a canvas tent, a table with maps was set out at his right, with various ornate paperweights holding down the lightly fluttering maps.
The adjutant assigned to him was a very junior officer, and was bringing the General a thick broth and some hard bread.
The adjutant addressed the general, "Sir, the reporter, Mr. Macray to see you." He set the food on the table.
The General did not take his eyes off of the horizon, "Lieutenant, where are those artillery units?" The Lieutenant looked first at me, and then answered, they are down there about 5 miles distant. They are camouflaged quite well, Sir." "Well, send orders at once that they assemble back into a column after midnight. After the order to advance is given, I do not want to see anything of them but a trail of dust."
"Anything else, Sir?"
The General saw that I was making notes of his discussion, and shot a question to the Lieutenant "Do the men love their general?" Again the Lieutenant glanced at me, then started "Sir, the men know that you are one of the South's most respected field commanders. They will obey your orders, and.."
"Answer!" The General's voice boomed, and my pencil broke. Strangely, the adjutant grew confident "No, Sir. They do not love you."
"Good." He answered flatly, and returned to his observation. "And what of Hill? Do the people of Salem love him?"
"Our spies report that he has toured the local orphanage and poorhouse, and is greeted warmly wherever he goes."
"People are fickle. Soldiers hate unconditionally. Would you like some bread, Mr. Macray? I have kept you all afternoon, with not even a glass of water."
The adjutant left, and I proceeded to pour myself a glass of water as the General continued:
"I have been eating army food since I was a boy of ten. I'm afraid my constitution would not agree with your civilian food."
I sipped thirstily at the water, and the General pointed to Salem in the distance. "Do you see their chimneys there... how they send their peaceful plumes into the air? Tomorrow there shall erupt in their midst the smoke of the Southern artillery, and the counter-fire of Hill's forces."
"Will you remain here, Sir?" I inquired.
He pointed to his leg and smiled. "For an observant man, you have not noticed my favoring of this leg. As a younger man, my horse fell on me. I'll tell you that the first thing I did when I got to my feet was to shoot the beast. I then proceeded to rejoin my unit, and finished leading the assault. I still ride out to observe the ground, but I no longer ride those nasty creatures into battle. I have capable officers for that. They are fearless to a man. Young, Williams, Crowder, Pharr, Guthrie - these names will be sung sweetly by young women, heralded in epic poems, and eventually carved lovingly into stone monuments in the Capital."
I poured myself another glass of water as he spoke. "Up here, I am witness to their glory, as no other shall be. The fluttering flags, the plumes of the Napoleons will all be seen from my chair here. And then the claps of artillery, like an applause, will reach my appreciative ear. And when the wind finally brings those fragrant plumes to me, I shall be transported, like a saint into Heaven itself."
The Lieutenant returned. "Sir, all units report full readiness."
"Lieutenant, gather my company and some wagons. Seize all of the officers' Spirits. Bring the bottles back here, and have the men break them around the perimeter. I will not have one of Hill's scouts coming in here on their bellies and trying to catch me unaware. If I know the officers, you should have plenty of glass to go around."
The Lieutenant wheeled and was gone.
General," I asked, "Why is it that you do not have a scribe about to put down to paper your orders, or to capture your wisdom for Posterity."
The General's face became shocked, and he laughed softly. "I did not bring you up here to question my method. I do not commit orders to paper, my adjutant relays instructions to the various commanders. My officers do not need too much in the way of explicit instruction. Their character shows itself in their ability to make good decisions and work cooperatively. I knew where the horse artillery were located, I was just testing the Lieutenant's ability. I am always testing. My officer's have anoted maps, as do I."
"If you did not wish to give an interview, then why summon me?"
The General stared at me. "I expect if I let people scrawl my every word all the time, I would only be misquoted. I brought you here to give you the opportunity to remove yourself and your family from Salem before the morn."
"I do not have a family," I replied. "My place is where there is news to report."
"No family." He smirked, "That explains a lot. My family is here, and you are welcome to return here for your safety tomorrow. Mind the glass, though. And would you find out whether General Hill has any interesting paperweights? I collect them, you see."
Robert P. Macray
When asked to comment on General Smyth's interview General Hill suggested that perhaps the men of Colonel Smiths 4th US Artillery had something that might serve as paperweights that they could spare. 

As yet not many of the Rebel force have found their way into Salem but those that have find themselves facing a well placed and entrenched force.
As has become his trade mark, General Hill is commanding the operation from the roof of his home which overlooks the Federal position. With him are Commandant-General Wakefield and a number of cadets from the Academy, come to get a taste of battle field conditions. The Commandant-General commented that this sort of field trip has proved most beneficial with one of the more recent graduates, Colonel Smith clearly having gained some tips from just such an experience having gone on to win in her graduating exercise.
In the meantime General Hill is more concerned with the horses of the 4th US grazing on his prize kiwifruit trees and shouting orders at the drivers to get them out of the orchard.