"OK, this is what is going to happen. J. N., you are to stay close to these two, your creative and daring cousins. All three of you are to stay close to me. First Sergeant, you've lost a farrier!"
Taking a long pause, "We'll be in your home country within the next week or so. You three are going home."
"No Sir. No," Lou found her voice and it carried authority beyond her gender and age.
"Alex and J. N. here didn't do anything wrong. No one ever asked them if I was a boy or girl. They kept quiet because, well Sir . . . . "
"Because, because, young lady!" the major barked at Lou.
"Because, Sir, I had a duty, we all had one." She went quiet, her anger and nerve modified by grief. Then she looked the major in the eyes, a custom she struggled to adapt to but she needed to join his spirit, to connect.
"It was because of the killing last year of your daddy and brother. Girl, is that what you're telling me?"
Lou's eye contact broke and she looked down. "Yes Sir, the murders, Sir. Murders."
The major's displeasure, sternness and resolve were broken by Lou's words, her eyes and then her diverting gaze. They had to go, but he didn't like it.
===
The next morning at an hour before sun-up, Major Stevenson, astride Cousin, came up to the campfire as J. N. put a small rotten sycamore log on the small fire.
"You three. Listen up!" he ordered as he patted Cousin's reins. "When we get within twenty miles of y'all's place, you Mayberry, take these two home. Swap for some civilian clothes all of you before we leave here. Girl you keep that hat off. Find a kerchief or bandana. No hat. You need to look something like what you are. There's Union patrols and partisan reported all over that area. You all are three farmers coming home from town. Understand?" No answer. "Understand!"
"Yes Sir," J. N. responded with a bit of energy.
The twins mumbled, "Yes Sir."