Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (57 page)

“Sir, with all due respect, I fail to see how this is our fault. We informed you that Schofield was on the move. You practically ignored our pleas to engage, merely sending a small detail to harass them as they passed by. Short of acting with insubordination, I believe we did all we could under the circumstances.”

“Enough of these illogical rationalizations!” Gen. Hood roared angrily. “I believe that you three have acted in error and I will not debate this further. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir,” the three answered obediently.

Pointing to the enemy, Gen. Hood continued, “Gen. Schofield has built his defenses around the town. I’ve decided to attack him on the southern front in three stages, starting from west to east toward the river.” Pointing to Gen. Cheatham, he said, “You’ll be sending your men in first, between Carter’s Creek and Columbia Pike. Next, will be Gen. Stewart’s men, fighting between Columbia Pike and Harpeth River and lastly, Forrest will cross the river and try to outflank Schofield’s left.”

As Gen. Hood continued to discuss his plans for engagement, the three subordinate generals listened intently to their instructions, all the while taking note of the time. By three o’clock, the four men had concluded their meeting and rushed to position their men for battle.

4pm…

Gen. Hood sat on his horse and viewed his army through his field glasses. He smiled confidently to himself as he envisioned a victory that had eluded him for weeks. Stowing his glasses, he drew his sword and raised it above his head triumphantly. In one swift movement, he dropped his hand and shouted out his command:

“Commence firing!”

As canister fire roared over their heads, three divisions of Gen. Cheatham’s men advanced north along the Columbia Pike. Within minutes, they were in range and prepared to unleash their first volley. Two hundred yards away, Union Gen. George Wagner watched in fear as the wave of men charged his forward position.

“Here they come boys. Ready at the trigger,” he shouted.

A feeling of impending doom swept his body as the rebel force stopped momentarily and lifted their rifles to fire. Staring out at the impending volley, he glanced at his men, realizing many were about to die.

The roar of rifle fire echoed across the field. In an instant, loud cries of pain sounded out from behind the Union breastworks as dozens of unlucky soldiers received the first volley of incoming fire.

“FIRE!” Gen. Wagner shouted loudly.

Instantly, the Union line open fired on the advancing Confederates. Within seconds, dozens fell face down in the high grasses, dead or mortally wounded.

Rage welled inside the advancing Rebel soldiers at the sight of their fallen comrades. They fired another volley and charged with heightened furor toward the Union line. Dozens more Union men fell as their comrades reloaded.

Staring down their barrels at the wave of charging men, fear and desperation raced through the minds of the Union soldiers. As more men fell, several broke rank and retreated. Seeing their comrades flee to the safety of the extended line of breastworks behind them, others turned and followed.

“Stand your ground boys,” Gen. Wagner shouted above the roar of rifle fire. “Reload and fire!” he commanded.

Fifty feet away, the Confederate wave stumbled momentarily and continued on through the Union soldier’s next volley. Determined and unrelenting, they charged at greater speed.

Gen. Wagner stood stunned by the Rebel’s advance. Suddenly, a private fell dead at his feet, shocking him back to reality.

“RETREAT!” he shouted frantically. “Retreat!”

Instantly, Gen. Wagner’s line turned and ran. Like a predator hunting its prey, the Confederate horde leaped over the now abandoned breastworks and pursued the fleeing Union line. Electrified by the promise of victory, they chased the men even as they neared the main skirmish line. With mere feet separating the Confederates from the Union men, those waiting behind the breastworks held their fire for fear of wounding their own approaching comrades.

Gen. Wagner rushed to a break in the wall of logs as he led his men toward safety. As his men hurried through it, so too did the Confederate line. Instantly, the fighting turned savage as the two adversaries engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Knives, bayonets, rifle butts and fists became the weapons of choice as the melee raged.

“We have ‘em now!” Gen. Hood shouted excitedly as he watched the action through his binoculars. He turned to a lieutenant waiting nearby and shouted, “Signal Gen. Stewart to advance.”

“Yes Sir,” the lieutenant shouted back.

Returning to his field glasses, Gen. Hood watched one man signal another half a mile away. In seconds, artillery from Gen. Stewart’s forces echoed across the field, as his soldiers began their advance.

“Take cover!” Union Col. Stiles shouted loudly to his men as he rode down the line.

Seconds later, canister artillery roared over the Union soldier’s heads as they crouched behind the breastworks and exploded in the ground far behind them.

“Prepare to fire,” Col Stiles shouted once more, then added, “Fire on my command.”

Seeing the exploding shells landing behind the skirmish line, David immediately sprang into action. Riding his horse up the line, he repeated the same orders other commanders were delivering to their men.

“Prepare to fire!” he shouted.

His men stared with intensity down their barrels and watched the distant Rebel force approach. With nervous anticipation, they rested their fingers near their triggers as they waited on their next command.

With shells landing before and beyond the skirmish line, David ducked in reflex as they exploded. He righted himself in the saddle and continued to charge up the line. Nearing the end of those in his command, he spotted Doc and Geoff kneeling against the wall of logs. For a moment, he felt saddened he couldn’t be with them. Quickly, he trotted over to their location.

“How’re you guys doing?” he said in a tone loud enough for the two to hear.

Doc turned and forced a smile.

“I’m watching the lad, David. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be ok. Just take care of yourself,” he shouted as another shell exploded far out in front of them.

“Dude, what the heck are you doing up there, man?” Geoff shouted to David as he ducked momentarily behind the wall. “Don’t be a hero. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Not much choice Geoff. It’s the only way to effectively lead a group of men this large,” David shot back. “Believe me. I’m not doing this to earn a medal.”

“Well, be careful just the same Lad, “Doc responded, glancing nervously back at the enemy.

David watched Doc’s white beard whip in the cold November’s wind. As the old man shivered slightly, David suddenly sensed a frailty about him, like the vulnerability of an unprotected child. Instantly, he called over to the teen.

“Geoff, can you come here for a moment,” David asked.

Without a word of question, Geoff instantly jumped to his feet and hurried to David’s side.

“What is it? You need my help with something,” he asked.

David leaned over quickly and spoke. “Doc’s tough but he hasn’t been in battle for years. Keep an eye on the old guy, huh?”

Geoff smiled coyly and said, “I’m all over it man. If they so much as fart on him, it’ll be the last thing they do.”

David grinned momentarily then ducked again as another shell roared over their heads.

“Better get back. I’ll be giving the order to fire shortly,” he ordered with a friendly nod.

“Gotcha, I’m ready,” Geoff responded, lifting his Henry rifle with pride.

“I almost feel sorry for them,” David replied.

As Geoff hurried back to the wall next to Doc, David pulled on the reins and rushed back down the line, reviewing one last time before the final order.

“Here they come Lad. Don’t hurry your shots. Make every one count,” Doc said, leaning over to Geoff.

Geoff looked into Doc’s eyes and for the first time he saw fear. He rested his hand on the old man shoulder and smiled confidently.

“Doc, I got your back. Don’t worry. The only way they’ll get to you is through me,” he said bravely.

Doc smiled in thanks. As he turned to face the enemy once more, he pulled the hammer back on his rifle and aimed. Placing his finger on the trigger, he murmured under his breath.

“The missus isn’t going to like this.”

-----*-----*-----*-----

As Gen. Stewart’s Confederate line raced across the field, they dodged trees and steadied themselves through the tall grasses that grabbed at their ankles, threatening to trip them as they ran. Closing in fast, they could now make out the faces staring back at them behind the long series of breastworks that stretched from east to west. With less than two hundred yards left, they brought their rifles up to the ready.

David turned his horse at the river and started back. He stopped for a moment, realizing the shelling had stopped.

“This is it,” he said to himself.

He squinted out across the field at the approaching enemy and noted their range.

“Two hundred yards… in range.”

He pulled his sword from his scabbard and raised it high above his head. With a slight kick, he spurred his horse to a fast trot.

“Commence firing!” he shouted loudly over and over as he now charged up the line.

The roar of guns instantly sounded. Those with muskets fired and quickly reloaded, while those with repeating rifles continued to fire. As David’s men fired, Col. Stile’s men took their cue and fired also.

Out in the distance, men in gray fell to their deaths. Undaunted and undeterred, the enemy continued on. Charging across the field, they stopped, fired and reloaded on the run.

In a minute’s time, Geoff fired all seven rounds, reloaded and repeated the routine three more times. Feeding more rounds into the magazine, he looked over to Doc. Quickly and methodically, the old man loaded powder and ball into the barrel and pushed the contents down with his ramrod. As he raised his weapon to fire, he caught a glimpse of Geoff watching him.

“How’s my time,” he asked.

“For a geezer, you’re pretty quick… almost four rounds a minute,” Geoff responded.

As Doc pulled his trigger, he stood the rifle upright and prepared to reload.

“Geezer huh? You’re just lucky there’s already another fight on, else I might be inclined to tangle,” Doc responded with a nervous smile.

Suddenly a bullet impacted the top log to his left, sending splinters into the air. Doc flinched in reflex as Geoff reached over and instinctively pulled him from the danger.

“You Ok Doc? You hit?” Geoff asked in frightened tone.

“And to think I was cold just a moment ago,” he said aloud, catching his balance.

“Stay low Doc. They can’t hurt you if they can’t hit you,” Geoff responded in relief.

“Quite right lad,” he agreed, now concentrating on his reload.

With bullets whistling over their heads, the two crouched behind the wall of logs, reloaded, then stood quickly to fire. Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded to their left. Doc turned quickly and froze. Standing beside him, a soldier clutched his throat as blood spewed from his fingers. He shot Doc a desperate stare, wavered momentarily, then fell over backwards.

Doc dropped his weapon and rushed to help the poor wounded private. As he kneeled over the top of him, the soldier’s eyes quickly faded, becoming dull and lifeless.