"Are you ready to report, sir?" Grant asked.

"Yes, sir."

Haupt stood, leaning against the table for support, and pointed to the map of the entire eastern United States, which was spread on the table.

"We've moved over forty thousand men east in the last three weeks and I must say that it is a unique accomplishment in the history of warfare. It has of course created certain problems, which my staff did anticipate but could do nothing about during the movement of forces, and now it will take some time to straighten out."

"What problems?" Burnside asked.

"Locomotives and rolling stock. We commandeered over two hundred locomotives from different lines and over two thousand flatcars and boxcars. Repositioning them back into useful service after their express run east is taking time. I could not ship them back while the entire road, involving several different lines, was cleared for eastbound traffic. Therefore these last two weeks have created some depletion o'f available trains in the West. Once the last of Burnside's men are in, we need to take a breather, to reposition that rolling stock back to their owners, who are screaming bloody murder."

"Can't they wait?" Ord asked. "We still need to bring more men in, tens of thousands more."

"Yes and no, sir. We will continue to bring in troops. I'm preparing for the next big trans-shipment of Nineteenth Corps from Philadelphia as they arrive by sea from New Orleans, but in order to keep other activities moving, including industrial and even commercial movement, we have to slow the pace slightly."

He paused, looking over at Grant, who nodded his approval.

"Go ahead, General. I'm in agreement. Our presence here, at this moment, has at least alleviated any defensive concerns; in that capacity we are fully ready to fight. It was beyond my hope that General Lee might actually attempt to sally forth from Baltimore and try to strike us here. We knew that wouldn't happen, but our friends over in the state capitol building are now relieved. We are not yet however, an offensive army."

Ord grinned, chewing meditatively on a wad of tobacco, leaned over, and spat on the ground.

'Tell that to my boys; they're eager to get at it, sir."

McPherson grinned and nodded in agreement

"Our little skirmish a couple of days ago got their blood up, sir; I kind of agree with Ord. Perhaps a demonstration down towards Carlisle?"

Grant shook his head.

"General McPherson, your men did admirably driving back Stuart's pickets. One brigade across the river, to deny them the ability to see us, is sufficient for now. We move when ready, and not before."

"I concur," Haupt said, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

"The big problem of logistics now is horses. As General Grant said, we are a defensive army at the moment; we can fight in place, but to move? Not yet, I am sorry to say."

"How soon?" Ord pressed.

"Sir, we need over twelve thousand more horses and at least six thousand mules for our supply trains, and we don't even have the wagons yet for the mules to be hitched to.

"Moving men is simple in comparison. Pile a regiment on a train, get patriotic civilians to pass up hampers of food at every stop, have wood and water in place for the locomotive, and you can go clear from Wisconsin to Maine in a week if you wish. Horses are a hell of a lot more difficult.

"At best we can maybe load a hundred horses to a train, but that is pressing it, a hell of a lot of weight for the steeper grades. They have to be unloaded every day, exercised, fed, watered. We can't go too fast A bad bump or shift, and you have a trainload of horses with broken legs. A trip of three days to move five hundred men will equal a week or more with five trains with incredible amounts of fodder placed along the way. Then, once here, sir, ten thousand horses means four hundred thousand pounds of fodder a day. Granted, we can pasture a lot of them in nearby farms, but they'll eat that out in a couple of weeks."

He shook his head wearily.

"How many of our own horses from Vicksburg will come up?" Ord asked. "A lot of my men in the cavalry and artillery are upset about losing their old mounts and trace horses, which are trained to their tasks."

"I'm having near five thousand moved by steamers up to Wheeling. From there they'll be loaded on trains. That cuts six hundred miles off the train run, but it's a lot slower and the Ohio is still in flood from all the rains, so it's even slower than expected. The first trainload should be coming in next week."

"And the others?" Grant asked.

"I'm ordering in trainloads of remounts from as far as Maine. It's a little complex, since the actual purchasing of horses is not in my department, only the transporting of them. I can have a procurement officer in Vermont tell me that he has a hundred mules, the train gets there, and half of the poor beasts are on their last legs, shipping them here a waste. The system is riddled with corruption, paybacks, purchasing of animals just about ready to drop; it's a nightmare."

Grant tossed down the butt of his cigar after using it to puff a new one to life. "When?"

"I think by the end of the month, sir." Grant exhaled noisily.

"I'd prefer sooner. That gives me only four to six weeks of campaigning weather before the onset of autumn."

"I know that, sir, I'm moving hard on it."

‘I know you are, Haupt. What else?"

"Sir, with the delay we'll need to start shipping in fodder as well for the horses already here, not much at first but it will quickly increase to ten to fifteen trainloads a day. Three to four times that amount if we are stuck into late fall. Purchasing agents are combing upstate New York for fodder, which is our best route for bringing it down to here."

"We won't be here by late fall," Grant snapped and then nodded for Herman to continue with his list.

"We need fifteen hundred wagons for supplies. Again that has to go through a different department than mine. I can cram twenty-five of them onto a train. We have orders in to factories and suppliers across the country. I think we can make good on those in short order. Fortunately there's a lot of wagon-makers right here in Pennsylvania and we're offering a premium for quick delivery. There's a purchasing agent in Reading buying them up now. He's efficient, and as fast as a trainload of them is assembled, they're shipped here. We also need three hundred more springed ambulances, twenty more forge wagons for the artillery batteries, roughly a hundred wagons for headquarters baggage, and, most important, two hundred heavy wagons for the pontoon trains."

"Why so many?" McPherson asked. "We never had that many down in Mississippi."

"I want two pontoon bridges across this river when we move," Grant interjected, "and I want enough bridging material together to throw two more bridges, across the Potomac. If the campaign then presses into Virginia, we will need additional bridging for half a dozen rivers from the Potomac down to Richmond."

"You plan to go that far this fall?" McPherson asked, surprise in his voice.

Grant looked up at him and shook his head.

"I'm not ready to discuss that yet, and let me remind all of you here that what is said in this tent stays here. I misspoke to even mention the bridging requirements."

Haupt, who by the simple process of planning the transportation of supplies already had a good sense of what Grant was indeed planning, lowered his gaze for a moment He knew men like Ord, McPherson, and Burnside were burning with curiosity about the forthcoming campaign, and though he could surmise what was to come, he would never breathe a word or give something away. Haupt knew Grant would reveal his plans in his own good time, and he was not about to risk Grant's wrath by hinting at anything.