was mystified that such a non-imposing man could indeed be so imposing. His careless dress and posture concealed the rock hard intensity of Jackson’s drive and passion.
No one spoke as the small contingent eased forward in the darkness. Robert was alert to every sound as Granite stepped forward confidently, his gray ears pricked forward in readiness. Thoughts of Carrie on her Thoroughbred and laughing defiantly as she raced across the pastures of Cromwell Plantation rose to taunt him. Firmly he pushed them aside. They belonged to another time - another day. Wondering whether the South would ever again know a time so carefree would do him no good now. He must take care of the business at hand.
Just what that business was he wasn’t sure. It was obvious he had been selected to help protect the general as he inspected the state of events. Practicality demanded acknowledgement that pitch black darkness combined with unknown, rough territory would make any kind of protection almost impossible. Robert understood why the general’s staff had attempted to dissuade him from his action.
A sudden spattering of gunfire in the distance caused him to jolt upright in his saddle. Granite tensed and swung his massive head in an attempt to find the location of the trouble.
“What the....?” Robert muttered.
Moses stumbled and almost fell as the ground sloped away from him. His shoulder slammed into a tree, arresting his forward movement as pain shot through his body. Gripping his gun tighter with his bayonet pointed in readiness, Moses gritted his teeth and continued to push on. “Forward!” he yelled again defiantly.
Quickly he realized the darkness was just as much an enemy as the Rebel forces. The ground they were fighting through was rough and wooded. Hills gave way suddenly to wet ravines, murky and stagnant. Trees mingled with thorny thickets, ripping at flesh as well as clothing. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to see beyond the next tree.
Finally a line of entrenchments sprang into view. “Forward!” he hollered. He could feel his men moving beside him, but there was no way of knowing how many he had lost in the dark chaos. Far to the right, a burst of fire exploded from an entrenchment. He could hear the screams of wounded men as they fell. Setting his lips, he scrambled over an entrenchment, his bayonet thrusting forward. A sigh of relief burst from him as he realized whatever Rebels had lain in wait there had already fled before the attack.
“What now, Moses?” a voice rang from the darkness.
“We continue forward,” he yelled instantly. “Our orders were to keep moving. That’s what we’re going to do!”
Just then a volley of shots rang out in the distance.
“Get down,” Moses yelled, sensing danger before he could identify it.
“I’m hit!” one of his men yelled.
“They got me!” another yelled.
Moses spun around in confusion. There had been no flash of guns in front of them. Where were the shots coming from? A flash from the rear confirmed his worst fears. The second line, just entering the woods, had begun to fire. They were being shot down by their own men.
“Stop shooting!” he screamed.
Seconds later his voice was joined by a hundred others. “Stop firing below! You are firing on us!”
The firing continued, joined sporadically by Rebels fighting to hold their positions. Moses frantically considered his options. The lack of resistance thus far
No one spoke as the small contingent eased forward in the darkness. Robert was alert to every sound as Granite stepped forward confidently, his gray ears pricked forward in readiness. Thoughts of Carrie on her Thoroughbred and laughing defiantly as she raced across the pastures of Cromwell Plantation rose to taunt him. Firmly he pushed them aside. They belonged to another time - another day. Wondering whether the South would ever again know a time so carefree would do him no good now. He must take care of the business at hand.
Just what that business was he wasn’t sure. It was obvious he had been selected to help protect the general as he inspected the state of events. Practicality demanded acknowledgement that pitch black darkness combined with unknown, rough territory would make any kind of protection almost impossible. Robert understood why the general’s staff had attempted to dissuade him from his action.
A sudden spattering of gunfire in the distance caused him to jolt upright in his saddle. Granite tensed and swung his massive head in an attempt to find the location of the trouble.
“What the....?” Robert muttered.
Moses stumbled and almost fell as the ground sloped away from him. His shoulder slammed into a tree, arresting his forward movement as pain shot through his body. Gripping his gun tighter with his bayonet pointed in readiness, Moses gritted his teeth and continued to push on. “Forward!” he yelled again defiantly.
Quickly he realized the darkness was just as much an enemy as the Rebel forces. The ground they were fighting through was rough and wooded. Hills gave way suddenly to wet ravines, murky and stagnant. Trees mingled with thorny thickets, ripping at flesh as well as clothing. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to see beyond the next tree.
Finally a line of entrenchments sprang into view. “Forward!” he hollered. He could feel his men moving beside him, but there was no way of knowing how many he had lost in the dark chaos. Far to the right, a burst of fire exploded from an entrenchment. He could hear the screams of wounded men as they fell. Setting his lips, he scrambled over an entrenchment, his bayonet thrusting forward. A sigh of relief burst from him as he realized whatever Rebels had lain in wait there had already fled before the attack.
“What now, Moses?” a voice rang from the darkness.
“We continue forward,” he yelled instantly. “Our orders were to keep moving. That’s what we’re going to do!”
Just then a volley of shots rang out in the distance.
“Get down,” Moses yelled, sensing danger before he could identify it.
“I’m hit!” one of his men yelled.
“They got me!” another yelled.
Moses spun around in confusion. There had been no flash of guns in front of them. Where were the shots coming from? A flash from the rear confirmed his worst fears. The second line, just entering the woods, had begun to fire. They were being shot down by their own men.
“Stop shooting!” he screamed.
Seconds later his voice was joined by a hundred others. “Stop firing below! You are firing on us!”
The firing continued, joined sporadically by Rebels fighting to hold their positions. Moses frantically considered his options. The lack of resistance thus far
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