|Brothers of War (standard:action, 4010 words)|
|Author: Wardog||Added: Aug 08 2005||Views/Reads: 2002/1120||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|AIn 1864 a one-armed Union Sergeant leads his men into battle. After being shot he is placed undercare of his brother. Reluctantly, the doc lets him go to fight another day. Will the doctors worse fear come true and he finds his brother dead, or will he t|
Brothers of War By Brett Holden In the distance the regiment heard thunderous blasts of canon fire. A mist drew toward them, and they smelled the gun smoke. The veterans who to the recruits seemed calm and prepared for the inevitable battle were just as anxious has they were. For a long fortnight they had marched unceasingly, except to make camp. When there was enough moonlight they kept on proceeding until the troops grew too weary to continue. Above them the full moon did indeed shine bright, yet they knew they would soon discontinue the progress and partake in battle. For the past two weeks, the recruits were filled with rumors of the time and place of battle and fellow companies took up even the ones that were true. Yet, this did serve a purpose for the raw recruit's saw firsthand the carnage of war and the battlefields strewn with the dead. Several took this well, but others had an immediate reaction that many of the veterans remembered when they had first seen land that represented a violent conflict. The reaction was vile and involuntary and the veterans most used remarks was: “Better out than in.” It had been three days since their last encounter with the remnants of the war, in which their sergeant had been shot by an injured foe. He had been placed under the doctor's care soon after the demise of the enemy, and he provided his usual remedy of amputation. Although, the soldiers were immediately dumbfounded has the sergeant walked out of his tent one day has, they were beginning preparations to set out, and found him in uniform with a pistol in his right hand, and a stump for a left arm. To the admiration of the soldiers, more so the recruits, he mounted his grey steed and rode out with the boys with every intention of doing his share of the fighting. Up ahead he could be found, behind the regiment's lieutenant holding his pistol with a sawn-off shotgun to boot. Though he lacked a limb, he was still a good shot, and hardly lost anytime reloading. He even wore a sword tucked elegantly into a beautifully crafted sheath. He suddenly turned to face his men. “Today we go into battle, and give the damned Confederates pay for nearly four years of bloodshed. You have witnessed the devastation the war has brought, and the peril it has wrought in the north. Whatever the outcome of the battle, and what is seen on the terrible field, I know will not discourage my men, nor dismay them. Let your stout hearts hold you fast to your place, and let it allow you to defeat the enemy. Today our backs will not be to the opposition, because they will flee from us. Let it be known men will die today, from both sides, but if it is also to be our end we will have caused such damage that they will be crippled, and our fellows will finish them in our honor. To glorious death, and victory” The men jeered and marched quickly to the top of the next hill wear the sergeant was. Fear gripped several of their hearts has they stared at two ravaged masses mingled in a demonstration of blue and grey. Then the lieutenant gave a swift arm gesture and they advanced down the hill toward the formidable conflict. They drew closer while the 12-pounders were turned to face them. In a moment they were hailed with canon fire that filled the valley with a loud resonance. They first few shots landed several yards in front of them. Yet, in the face of danger they held firm. It seemed to them that their comrades already engaged in the strife had renewed vigor at the sight of them. The confederate flag in the midst of the fight fell, and the recruits were overjoyed for they believed they were winning, and then it ominously rose again. They were close now, and the canons were not far ahead, and they were all frightened for a moment, realizing they were within range of the guns. Then they met their first casualties. Artillery fire boomed again, and a shot soared into the front lines and a few soldiers were killed. The lieutenant, sergeant, and foremost soldiers raised arms and gave a volley of musket fire. A couple of artillerymen fell, and then they charged. The moon seemed to light their path has they rushed the enemy. The sounds of war grew intense, and they were greeted with fire, which they returned. They were soon lost in the fight, the veterans remembering other engagements while remembering how they had survived to fight another day. The recruits tried to follow the actions of their superiors, but they were lost in the chaos and were only thinking of determining friends from foes, and then opening up on the opposition. Upon his horse the sergeant fired his pistol, never missing. Once it had been emptied, he pulled out his backup and fired away. The lieutenant was further in holding his sword and slashing down challenging enemies. They fought long carrying the fight closer to a tree line. The moon sank, and while the sky began to lighten they still fought on. Behind them lay the recently late comrades of both sides, and the blue uniforms and grey overlapped and the gaps were crimson. It all led to a line of Napoleons some on their Click here to read the rest of this story (248 more lines)
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