With the lack of adequate manpower available to prosecute the retaking of Tennessee, the Army shuffled units to that theatre of war from the Virginia battlefields. The Army pleaded with state governments to turn over militia units and to raise more volunteers for Army service. Eventually, the Army searched its outposts, its invalid lists, and begged its sister service for men to use in the Tennessee Campaign, and it was then that the Navy realized that it could supply some men for the undertaking.
Jack was told to report to the Army of Tennessee, which was engaged in the siege of Chattanooga, on or about the twenty-sixth of November. This gave him almost two weeks to get new uniforms, specifically the uniforms of an Army Captain. Although he would be getting a raise in pay, Jack could only feel as though the Navy were selling him down the river.
On the day that he left to join up with the Army, Jack rose early, and he walked over to the kerosene lamp, which was already lit, and adjusted the wick until the room was fully aglow with light. The cool wind stirred outside, but only a small cold current prowled about the room. The lamp did not even acknowledge the draft; instead, the flame burned a healthy warm amber flame, projecting shadows of his form that danced around the room.
At an enamel basin, Jack poured some water and splashed his face and hands. The cold water rejuvenated his tired brain, and he wanted the memory of this moment to be fresh in his mind. If this was his last day with his family, he wanted to be able to recall it. He had no photograph of the boy, who lay quietly asleep in the small crib, and he stared down at the boy's peaceful expression. The curly wisps of downy soft hair, hung like a halo above his head. Standing beside the baby's bed, Jack etched the child's features into his memory. Finally, he placed his only photograph of Shelby into a small tin box, which also housed some cigars, paper money, some thread, two needles, and a small card with his name, and the address of his parent's home in Columbia. He had thought of getting a new photograph of her, but he had not taken the time, justifying the failure to do so, by telling himself that he could trace every line of her face and form in his mind. As he wrapped the box up in a fraying piece of canvas, he felt the air gently stirring at his feet and decided to return to his intended task.
After mixing the soap in the mug with his brush, Jack painted the harsh stubble on his face. Carefully, he scraped the lather from his face. Looking into the mirror at himself, he felt a tugging feeling in his chest as his brain raced with fear.
"This is all I need, but how long will it last. I will probably be killed. I have only now begun to live, and for what - to be killed!" His mind could not stop, "this is what life is for, to have a home, a family, and now...," his thoughts still stirred, "I shall be killed! The world will become cold and damp, and so shall I. I will be placed in some shallow grave and rot. Or if I am unlucky, I will be left out in the field until I am bloated and reeking of death, and the birds of the field and the swarms of insects shall pick and pluck at my bones..." He felt the despair in his heart, "...and I will cease! I will no longer know of the joys of the flesh. I believe in the Kingdom to come, but I still have a need for the warm wet kisses of my wife and the innocent laughter of my son. Please, dear God, do not take these away. I don't fear death so much, but I wish to stay a little longer to enjoy the gifts of this world that you have bestowed upon me." He began to shed a few tears and continued to pray silently, "She has been a good woman, and a friend, and well more than I ever deserved, and I thank you!" He paused a moment to take in a calming breath, and he realized that there were probably tens of thousands of men who were sharing these same thoughts and prayers and that God could not grant them all the same wish. "And the boy...the boy has been a delightful blessing, and I hope that he never knows of a time of such waste and bloodshed. I am thankful for my life, and if it be Your Will to spare me, I..." Jack paused, and thinking that he was being rather selfish, he returned to his prayer “Give me the courage to face the enemy and be with me in the hour of battle. Watch over my family, and keep them in the center of Your Will, and be with both sides on the battlefield. And if it be Your Will, let this war be over soon...Amen!"