Mentally he calculated the time the enemy would be in range:
“Ten minutes,” he said aloud to no one in particular.
He stood and faced his men on the right.
“Prepare to fire!”
He turned to his men on the left.
“Prepare to fire!”
Turning back to his men on the right, he shouted, “Fire on my says so!”
He turned to the men on his left and relayed the same order.
Looking up at the bluff thirty yards away, he dashed off to deliver further orders.
-----*-----*-----*-----
Earlier:
Geoff heard the sound of the incoming shell and instinctively ducked. With his head buried in the grass, his body shook with a violent jolt as he heard the shell explode in the tree behind him. In reflex, he turn his head to investigate and watched in horror as the top half fell forward and crushed a man beneath it.
Panic coursed through him. He wanted to run but was paralyzed with fear.
Seconds later, another shell exploded in the trees further down the line. He heard the screams from the wounded private and lifted his head to investigate once more, only to feel the heavy weight of a hand on his head, forcing him to the ground.
“Stay down, you damn fool. What are you, touched?” the private lying next to him shouted.
No further words were needed. Geoff instantly pressed his face into the grass and waited. As he stared out to his right, at the far end of the skirmish line, a series of shells exploded just short of the wall. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and flinched at the tremendous sound. As he opened his eyes, he watched a young private fire his rifle into the air. A moment later, the angry sergeant shouted his order to ‘hold his fire’.
Staring across the row of men, Geoff spotted David. As he aimed down the barrel of his rifle, his focus was intense and determined. He neither flinched nor moved a muscle. Bravely he stared out across the field and waited on his future.
Geoff looked back to the private on his left. He was crouched below the large log, with his eyes raised just above it. Like David, he too stared down upon the enemy with fearless determination. With his firearm ready at his side, he was an inspiring sight.
“Aren’t you scared?” Geoff asked, in fearful tone.
Private Alvin Holley glanced toward Geoff. He could see the panic in his eyes.
“First time?” he asked, almost in casual tone.
“In battle? Yeah,” Geoff responded nervously.
“Look, you’re either going to die or you’re not. It’s that simple,” Pvt. Holley responded
“What do you mean?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear more.
“You either fight like you’re going to live or fight like you’re going to die. You have to make a choice.”
“What’s fighting like you’re going to die?” he asked, now puzzled.
“When you fight like you’re going to die, you don’t give it your all because you know even if you do, it won’t matter. You might as well not fight at all… just let those Yankees run right over the top of you.”
“So what’s fighting like you’re going to live?”
“When you fight like you’re going to live, you give it everything you have because you know you can without fear of dying. You don’t give up… ever. You fight making the right choices knowing you are going to survive, instead of making the wrong choices due to your fear of dying. It’s the wrong choices that will get you killed for sure, Pvt. Holley explained.
“But what if you fight like you’re going to live and you die anyway?”
“If it’s your turn to die, there’s nothing you can do about it. When death comes, you’ll never know it because you’ll be dead anyway. So until then, fight like you’re going to live,” he responded with conviction.
Geoff thought about the private’s words. They were profound and inspiring.
“Wow… fight like you’re going to live. Man, you’re so right,” he said confidently.
In his mind, he pictured himself alive and would still be after the battle. For that moment, he stiffened his resolve. Just like the private next to him and David down below, he positioned his rifle and prepared himself to fight for his life.
Seconds later, Sgt. Cooper shouted his next command: “Prepare to fire!”
-----*-----*-----*-----
Sgt. Cooper charged up the hill. With shells exploding nearby, he flinched with each report, and continued on. Geoff watched him approach and instantly felt apprehension.
Turning to Pvt. Holley, he said, “God, what does he want now?”
“Don’t know, but he sure looks like he’s onto something,” the private responded with agitation in his voice.
Even before he arrived, Sgt. Cooper shouted out his new orders.
“Y’all listen up. Them Yanks is on the move.” Pointing to a tree a quarter of a mile away, he continued, “Soon as they all reach that tree out yonder, y’all lay down a bead on them, ya here?”
Seven men stared out across the field at an approaching enemy, then tried to gauge the distance to the tree.
“I’m a’guessin’ it’s about four hundred yards out. Should be aim-able,” Sgt. Cooper continued.
With the focus on their jobs, they nodded simply in reply.
“If y’all can slow ‘em down out yonder, it’ll give the other fellers time to cut ‘em to ribbons. Shoot fast… Shoot accurate.” He turned to head back down, then stopped and said to Geoff, “And boy… I know you’re a shooter, so you can stop faking it. Shoot far and get them damn blue bellies.”
David watched the short encounter at the top of the bluff and wondered about Geoff’s safety.
“What the heck’s he doing now?” he said to himself under his breath. “Probably some stupid suicide mission.”
Moments later, Sgt. Cooper took his position several feet to the right of him.
Just then, David heard the high-pitched whistle of an incoming shell. He rolled flat on his stomach and lay perfectly still. Seconds later, the shell exploded just in front of the skirmish line, several yards away. It tore through the flimsy logs and hurled projectiles in all directions. One man was instantly killed, another lay mortally wounded.
David rolled his head to one side to investigate. As the young private lay dying, Sgt. Cooper stood over him and spoke words of comfort. Seconds later, he patted the private’s chest, then knelt beside David at the wall. Pulling his field-glass from his pouch, he looked across the field and acknowledged the enemy’s position.
“Are they going to be all right?” David asked.
“Not when we all get through with ‘em,” he responded, in distracted tone.
“No, I meant the guys up on the bluff. You went up to talk to them. Are they going to be all right?” David asked once more.
Sgt. Cooper stared at David, pulling his mind from his current thought and focusing on David’s.
“It’s not them fellers up there I’m worried about. They’re safe enough up on that bluff. It’s y’all down here I’m fearin’ for. Hopefully, they all will slow them blue scum down enough for you boys to shoot ‘em to pieces. If they start to get through our line, it’s going to be a hot time for y’all.”
David nodded, then turned to check the progress of the approaching enemy. Well past the halfway point in the one mile clearing, he knew the real action was about to begin. Turning back to the sergeant to ask a question, he noticed he was gone. David looked further down the line and spotted him engaged in serious conversation with a corporal. Suddenly, rifles roared from the bluff. In that instant, five men fell dead a quarter mile away.
-----*-----*-----*-----
Just moments before:
Union Privates Andrew Jacobs and Robert Corso marched double time across the field. With the Confederate’s skirmish line looming larger and more distinct, so too was their fear and anxiety. The two had fought in countless battles and emerged unscathed. Although they knew they were lucky, they also knew at
some point, their luck would run out.
Pvt. Jacobs’ hands were covered in nervous sweat. He wiped the moisture off on his pants and re-gripped his hold on his rifle. Looking over to his friend, he saw him staring back at him and in his eyes, he saw the same emotion he was feeling.
“You scared?” Pvt. Jacobs asked.
“Nah, we’ll be ok. Don’t worry,” Pvt. Corso lied, hoping to ease his friend’s mind.
Pvt. Jacobs stared out at the haphazardly thrown line of logs in the distance. He couldn’t yet see the rifles pointing back at him, but he knew they were there. Off to his right, he noticed a large tree.
“About halfway now,” he guessed.
Pvt. Corso looked back over his shoulder, then back to the tree.
“Yup, not too much longer now before we give those Rebs a thorough whooping,” he replied proudly.
As they jogged at a slow run, Pvt. Jacobs noted the obvious.
“The shelling’s stopped.”
Pvt. Corso looked back once more. Turning his attention to the skirmish line, he said, “I sure hope the general gave them boys a good tarring. My guess is he did. I don’t see anyone moving up there.”
“Maybe he missed. Maybe they’re just hiding and waiting for us,” Pvt. Jacob’s said in fearful tone.
He stared at his friend, waiting for an answer.
“I’m sure he got ‘em,” Pvt. Corso responded confidently. He raised his hand up under the visor on his cap and squinted. With an exaggerated stared, he said, “Yup, he got ‘em for sure.”
Looking back to his friend, Pvt. Corso’s eyes betrayed his words. Deep and intense, his worry radiated out from them. Instantly, Pvt. Jacobs face fell flush.
“This could be it,” he said solemnly.
Pvt. Corso glared at his friend. His words felt insulting.
“Don’t say that… don’t even think that. We’ve come this far. We’ll be just fine. I promise,” he said resolutely.
Pvt. Jacobs nodded reluctantly, then forced a smile.
As his friend turned away, he blessed himself with the sign of the cross and began to pray under his breath.
Suddenly, Pvt. Jacobs’ chest exploded. Blood and tissue burst from the gaping wound in a shower of brilliant red. He let out a guttural moan even before he heard the shot. A split second later, the sound from a quarter mile away, rang out across the open field.
As Pvt. Jacobs collapsed to the ground, five more shots echoed across the field. In that instant, five more fell dead.
Pvt. Corso turned and stared at his fallen friend. Shock and disbelief caused him momentary paralysis. As other soldiers rushed past him, he fell to the ground to comfort his fallen friend.
“Andrew… Andrew!” Pvt. Corso moaned loudly.
He rolled his friend over onto his back. The sight of the gaping wound made him sick, but he swallowed hard and forced the bile back. Staring at Pvt. Jacobs, his mind was consumed with sadness. He looked into his eyes and they were already glassy and distant. His friend was gone.
Pvt. Corso leapt to his feet. Seething anger raged within him. His mind had gone mad. He bent down, grabbed his rifle and sprinted off toward the skirmish line. As the tears dried to his cheeks, he quickly caught up to his comrades. In an instant, he rushed past them. Out in the lead and closing in on the enemy, he brought his rifle up to the ready.
Nearing the low section in the wall, he spotted a man kneeling. With his body half exposed, he made himself a conspicuous target. He quickly came to a stop, cocked the hammer on his rifle, aimed at the soldier in blue and pulled the trigger.
Instantly, Pvt. Corso felt the bullet smash through his ribcage and explode out his back. He dropped his weapon and clutched his chest in reflex. As he gasped for air, there was none to be had. His knees buckled and he fell forward.
Less than a hundred yards ahead, a blue coated soldier lay on the ground, blood pouring from his throat, while one brave man rushed to save him.
-----*-----*-----*-----
Just moments before:
“Y’all take aim,” Sgt. Cooper shouted.
The company of men held their rifles steady. Staring down the barrel’s sights, their fingers curled around their triggers as they waited on the sergeant’s command. Nervous sweat saturated their clothes. With each step of the soldiers in blue, the Confederates grew more inpatient.
Loud reports from the sharp shooters rifles echoed across the valley. Staring at the line of humanity marching toward them, they watched with morbid fascination as men began to fall.
“Steady boys,” Sgt. Cooper shouted.
Staring down his sights, David watched a crazed Union soldier break out in a run. Sprinting hard, he could see the young man arm’s pumping wildly. Far out in front of his comrades, his suicidal charge did not go unnoticed.
Inspired into action, the remaining Union soldier’s broke out in a sprint. Covering ground quickly, they were now less than two hundred yards away and closing fast on the Rebel lines. Several raised their weapons, taking aim on the run.
“FIRE!” Sgt. Cooper shouted his command.
Simultaneously, the entire company pulled their triggers and unleashed a volley of horrific death on the Union soldiers. Nearly thirty men fell as lead minie-balls tore through tissue and bone, creating gaping wounds and leaving them dead or dying.
Instantly, the enemy came to a stop, aimed and fired. Their bullets race across the land. Most smashed into the breastworks and stopped. A few continued on. Cries of agony sounded out down the skirmish line as some bullets found their mark.
David rolled on his back, and laid his rifle across his chest. His hands shook while he tried to reload. Panic raced through him as he watched the soldiers race closer. With powder and ball loaded into the barrel, he rolled back onto his stomach and took aim.
Looking down the end of his barrel, he spotted his target: the crazed Union soldier. He cocked his hammer and tried to fire, but his nervous shaking made aiming impossible. With his mind racing, he took a deep breath and exhaled. He refocused once more and fired.
David heard a cry of agony. Instantly, he looked to his right and saw a kneeling man clutching his throat. Blood poured through his fingers. With shock and disbelief registering in his eyes, he wavered in his stance, then fell forward.
“Oh my God!” David shouted in fear.
He grabbed the young private and pulled him off the log. Rolling him onto his back, he tried to examine the wound. Suddenly, bullets smashed into the log near him. He flinched instinctively, then dropped to his stomach. Looking over to the wounded man, he placed his hand on his neck and checked his carotid artery.
“No pulse,” he huffed frantically.
Quickly, he placed his hands on the soldier’s chest and attempted compressions in desperation.
“Come on buddy, stay with me,” David shouted.
High on the bluff, Geoff caught the dramatic scene unfolding below. He stared in amazement as David risked his life to save another.
“Holy shit!” he shouted. “Dude, get down man,” he added helplessly.
Down on the breastworks, several feet away, Sgt. Cooper glanced over to David in disbelief. Instantly, he shouted out in anger:
“Get down you damn fool! Leave ‘im be and get to fightin’,” he ordered, enraged by the scene.
-----*-----*-----*-----
Geoff looked down from the bluff at David with fear. He could see the log in front of him erupt into splinters as bullets impacted the nearly non-existent wall.
“Get down, get down,” he whispered over and over under his breath. As angst raged, he shouted out loudly, “David! Get down!”
Suddenly, he saw Sgt. Cooper shout something in anger. Instantly, David dropped back to his stomach, retrieved his rifle and continued firing. Although the sound of gunfire was deafening and the exchange between David and Sgt. Cooper could not be heard, Geoff knew exactly the words the sergeant used.
“Yeah man, stay down,” he said, concurring with his commander.
<
br /> He heard several bullets stream by his head and realized his exposure. Jumping down to his knees, he lowered his body behind the hastily assembled wall. A shiver ran up his spine as he thought about how close to death he had almost come.
Kneeling in a crouched stance, he reloaded his weapon swiftly and efficiently. Fifteen seconds later, as he watched the enemy advancing, he took quick aim and fired. Far out in the field, a man in blue uniform dropped to his knees. Reloading again, his heart raced and he hyperventilated. Scared and confused, he discharged his rifle.
Prisoner in Time (Time travel) Page 20