intervene, as another horse dashed through the woods and approached Jackson. The general was toppling from his saddle as the man reached out and caught his lanky body.
Robert groaned and spurred Granite onward, mindless of the danger. “General Jackson is with us. Quit firing! You’ve hit the general!”
The firing ceased, but distant argument and cursing indicated it could start up again any second. Robert sagged in his saddle then turned back to see what he could do. Moments later Yankee artillery again split the night with fire and destruction. Robert groaned as more of his party fell from their horses, screaming and moaning in pain. Was there going to be no end to this night?
“Fall back to the left!” Moses hollered. Ducking low, he darted to the left, uncertain as to how many men in his unit were still with him in the dark chaos. If his men could circle around the entrenchment blocking the Rebels’ way, maybe the North could surprise them from the rear. Suddenly a spattering of fire opened from directly in front of him. Seconds later, shooting erupted from the right. Moses stopped, totally confused.
“Who’s who?” screamed a frightened voice behind him.
Moses shook his head, his mind swarming. Who was the enemy? Who was on their side? He realized with a sinking heart that he wasn’t sure of their location or even which direction they were supposed to be headed. The obscure labyrinth of ravines and hillocks, of dwarfed thickets and giant trees, combined with the deadly crescendo of gunfire, had completely bewildered him. “Stay down!” he yelled frantically, trying desperately to make some sense of the nightmare he was living.
Moses groaned as he heard some of his men - at least he thought they were his men - scream in agony but then fall silent. The dark forest was becoming its own cemetery. Gunfire sounded from all directions. He could see no more than ten feet in either direction. He cringed as a nearby explosion of bullets struck the trees surrounding him.
“Good Lord, man. What we gonna do now?”
Moses heaved a sigh of relief as Pompey crawled up next to him. He had no answer to his question, but it was good to know he wasn’t totally alone. “Our men?”
“Ain’t no way of knowin’ where they be or how many still be livin’,” Pompey gasped. “I reckon we be in a mess sho nuff!”
“We don’t move till we have some idea what we’re moving into,” Moses said sternly, then hugged the ground more tightly as another barrage of lead passed overhead. Groans of the wounded, distant orders and curses, the whistling and roaring of guns, the crackling of branches, and the thunder of artillery all joined together in one diabolical crescendo.
Suddenly there was a break in the fire to the right. Moses reacted instinctively. If they were running toward Rebels, they would at least be giving chase and obeying the order to keep moving forward. If they were Federals, they could find out where they were and what was going on. “Forward!” Moses cried, springing up, dashing toward the darkened area, and holding his bayonet in readiness. He could hear men crashing through the brush behind him, but there was no way of knowing how many there were. He could be moving into more danger than he had already been in. Sucking in his breath, Moses charged over the entrenchment and expected at any moment to have gunfire explode in his face. Only dark emptiness met his searching eyes. “Whoever it was took off!” he crowed triumphantly, relief causing him to sag against a tree.
“What now,
Robert groaned and spurred Granite onward, mindless of the danger. “General Jackson is with us. Quit firing! You’ve hit the general!”
The firing ceased, but distant argument and cursing indicated it could start up again any second. Robert sagged in his saddle then turned back to see what he could do. Moments later Yankee artillery again split the night with fire and destruction. Robert groaned as more of his party fell from their horses, screaming and moaning in pain. Was there going to be no end to this night?
“Fall back to the left!” Moses hollered. Ducking low, he darted to the left, uncertain as to how many men in his unit were still with him in the dark chaos. If his men could circle around the entrenchment blocking the Rebels’ way, maybe the North could surprise them from the rear. Suddenly a spattering of fire opened from directly in front of him. Seconds later, shooting erupted from the right. Moses stopped, totally confused.
“Who’s who?” screamed a frightened voice behind him.
Moses shook his head, his mind swarming. Who was the enemy? Who was on their side? He realized with a sinking heart that he wasn’t sure of their location or even which direction they were supposed to be headed. The obscure labyrinth of ravines and hillocks, of dwarfed thickets and giant trees, combined with the deadly crescendo of gunfire, had completely bewildered him. “Stay down!” he yelled frantically, trying desperately to make some sense of the nightmare he was living.
Moses groaned as he heard some of his men - at least he thought they were his men - scream in agony but then fall silent. The dark forest was becoming its own cemetery. Gunfire sounded from all directions. He could see no more than ten feet in either direction. He cringed as a nearby explosion of bullets struck the trees surrounding him.
“Good Lord, man. What we gonna do now?”
Moses heaved a sigh of relief as Pompey crawled up next to him. He had no answer to his question, but it was good to know he wasn’t totally alone. “Our men?”
“Ain’t no way of knowin’ where they be or how many still be livin’,” Pompey gasped. “I reckon we be in a mess sho nuff!”
“We don’t move till we have some idea what we’re moving into,” Moses said sternly, then hugged the ground more tightly as another barrage of lead passed overhead. Groans of the wounded, distant orders and curses, the whistling and roaring of guns, the crackling of branches, and the thunder of artillery all joined together in one diabolical crescendo.
Suddenly there was a break in the fire to the right. Moses reacted instinctively. If they were running toward Rebels, they would at least be giving chase and obeying the order to keep moving forward. If they were Federals, they could find out where they were and what was going on. “Forward!” Moses cried, springing up, dashing toward the darkened area, and holding his bayonet in readiness. He could hear men crashing through the brush behind him, but there was no way of knowing how many there were. He could be moving into more danger than he had already been in. Sucking in his breath, Moses charged over the entrenchment and expected at any moment to have gunfire explode in his face. Only dark emptiness met his searching eyes. “Whoever it was took off!” he crowed triumphantly, relief causing him to sag against a tree.
“What now,
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