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Authors: Larry Edward Hunt

Tags: #civil war, #mystery suspense, #adventure 1860s

BOOK: Spake As a Dragon
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Realizing the potential strength of
the Yankee defensive position, General Lee orders Lt. General
Richard Ewell to attack and seize the hill ‘if practicable’ before
the entire Union army can concentrate their forces there. New to
command Ewell hesitates, he thinks it not ‘practicable.’

Sergeant Scarburg’s E Company, along
with most of the First Corps has only briefly been engaged in the
first day’s fight. Most of that first day is spent making a
grueling forced march south with the intent of attacking General
Meade’s left flank. Company E’s position in the line of attack is
between two slight hills named Little and Big Round Top.

 

Chapter Two

 

THE SECOND DAY

 

During the first-day skirmishes,
Sergeant Scarburg and his men did not see much of the actual
fighting; however, they did see the horses, lathered up with sweat,
galloping by their marching columns, pulling the caissons and
cannons creating clouds and clouds of choking dust. They could hear
the sounds of the fighting, the rebel yells, the cannons firing,
and the officers issuing orders, but most of the battle is out of
their view. Most of the day has been spent marching to get into
position for their actual fight. They know they are about to become
a part of this blood bath.

The second day of the fight begins
early in the morning. A slight haze of ground fog covers the ground
as Company ‘E’ advances toward the enemy through an area later to
become known as the Devils Den. The entire area between the Union
army and the Confederates is a wide stretch of ground strewn with
boulders the size of small wagons, some even bigger. Interspersed
between the boulders is waist high wild grass that offers no
protection what so ever. The Southerners will have to crawl and
pull themselves over and around these natural rock obstacles
constantly exposing their bodies to the deadly rain of lead from
the Yankee mini-balls. Their objective is a small hill, named,
appropriately Little Round Top.

Up and down the long Confederate line,
officers issue the order,
“Column Forward, Guide Center,”
drummers beat
“Advance.”
Buglers can be heard repeating the
“Advance”
call. The Confederate guides un-furl the Stars and
Bars flags, which begin fluttering in the gentle summer breeze. The
young boys carrying these flags proudly thrust out their breast and
begin the advancement toward the enemy. The drummers continue the
rhythmic beat on the drum signaling the troops to advance. The
remainder of the 12,000 rebel soldiers follows closely on their
heels.

Grimy sweat, mixed with dust and dirt,
drips from the tip of Sergeant Scarburg’s nose. He swings his
musket from his shoulder and begins a shuffling run toward the
large rock formations to his front. He along with thousands of
other rebel soldiers begins the infamous ‘rebel yell’ - a yell hard
to explain, a yell that has to be experienced to be understood. To
thousands of Yankee defenders, the yell is blood curdling. Years
later this spine-tingling scream will haunt the northern veteran
most nights as they try to drift off to sleep.

As the boys in grey run toward the
blue-clad Union Army, bullets begin to whiz by their heads. The
sulfur smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air. The blue-black
smoke is becoming so thick the soldiers of the Federal Army are
becoming more and more obscure. A young boy screams as a bullet
passes through his body – blood spews wildly as he collapses into a
heap upon the ground. Another soldier disappears into a bloody red
fog as a cannon ball hits him squarely in the chest. Mercifully the
grey clad boy dies instantly; he has no time to even emit a scream.
Dismissing these horrors from his mind, Sergeant Scarburg begins to
run faster toward the enemy. He has to reach one of those large
boulders. All he, and hundreds of other soldiers can think about is
the safety of the rocks.

Leaning against the cold, hard stone’s
surface, he presses his face against the coolness of the rock,
sighs, and inhales a deep breath of smoke-filled air. He pulls his
ragged, grey, forage cap from his head and using it as a
handkerchief, wipes his face. He can hear the officers imploring
the men to advance – leave their place of safety and once again
face the onslaught of Yankee bullets. The boys! Where are the boys?
He hates himself – for a brief few moments he thinks only of his
safety and forgets about Luke and Matthew. He tries to look through
the smoke for his boys, but can see nothing

Sergeant Scarburg is beginning to
muster up the courage to began his assault once more when he hears
shouts of the enemy advancing toward his position – all his
instincts are telling him to run – no never! This is unthinkable,
but who are these, outnumbered, defiant Yankee defenders who dare
attack his Confederate comrades rather than turn tail and
run?

High upon Little Round Top the Union
men of the 20
th
Maine under the command of Lt. Colonel
Joshua Chamberlain, are running out of ammunition. Chamberlain
orders his men to fix bayonets and “
Charge
”, unknowingly
down the hill directly into Sergeant Scarburg’s place of
safety.

No longer able to ignore the screams
and cries Sergeant Scarburg jumps from his hiding spot. He moves
around the large rock and is immediately met by a blue-bellied
Yankee bearing a long rifle with a shiny, razor sharp, steel
bayonet attached to its business end. Sergeant Scarburg did not
have time to react; the bayonet is already at his breast. Time
seems to stand still; he wants to raise his own weapon, but cannot;
the Yankee steel begins to penetrate his tread-bare shirt. He can
feel the sharp, cold metal penetrating his skin. Strange, he always
had thought it would hurt, but he does not feel any
pain.

With a fast thrust and quick
withdrawal of the blade it is over – Sergeant Scarburg falls
facedown to the ground.
‘Am I dead? Surely I must be,
’ he
thinks, but he can still hear the musket fire, and the whine of the
cannonballs as they fly overhead. He can smell the acrid smell of
the gunpowder.


Why am I unable to
move
,’ he thinks?
‘My boys! Luke, Matthew, I promised
Malinda...’
He can feel something warm and wet trickling down
the front of his shirt? Surely it is not blood he feels no pain.
‘Why is the world moving so slowly?’


Father! Father! How badly
are you hurt?” Luke asks, pulling his father back against the
shelter of the huge boulder.

Sergeant Scarburg looks at the young
man. His eyes blurred he cannot quite make out his
features.


Matthew! Matthew is this
you son?”


No, Father, it’s me Luke.
Your son Luke.”


Luke, Luke!” Robert
whispers, “bend down, I need to tell you something. Please son, it
is imperative. This was told to me by my father and I need to pass
it on before I die.”


Hush Father, conserve
your strength, you’re not going to die!” Looking at the bloody hole
in his father’s chest made by the bayonet, Luke thinks otherwise.
“Hold this handkerchief tightly against your wound Father.” Trying
to bolster his father’s spirit he continues, “Do not worry Father
it is only a scratch, lie still I will get help.”

Struggling to speak, “Wait Luke!
Please! Luke closer, come closer.” Whatever he has to say is
crucial. Luke realizes it too, bends down and places his ear close
to his father’s mouth. The noise from the on-going battle is
deafening. Luke is close enough to feel his father’s breath on his
cheek.

Barely able to hear his father’s
whispers, he remarks, “Father? Father? I do not understand! Bible?
Bible? I don’t have a Bible!”

The words have no sooner left Luke’s
lips when a lead mini-ball ricochets off the boulder above his head
raining lead and rock fragments into Luke’ face and forehead. Blood
gushes into his eyes. For a second, Luke thinks the bullet has
found its mark, but a swipe with his hand indicates it is only a
superficial scalp laceration.


Luke! Luke, is that you?”
Someone screams from the direction of the field of tall
grass.

Even though he only can see a few
yards into the thick, blue smoke, Luke recognizes the voice. It is
the frightened voice of his younger brother Matthew.


Here Matt! I’m here with
Father he’s hurt. I think he wants a Bible, do you have one
Matthew?”

Matt shakes his head then asks, “Is
Father dying”?


Yes, I think so. Stay
with him Matt; I’ll try to find some help.


No, Luke don’t
leave...!”

Luke grabs his musket, rounds the
boulder, and dodging bullets runs into the thick smoke.

 

Chapter Three

 

THE HAWK

 

About seven hundred miles southwest of
the hot battle taking place in Pennsylvania it is also hot on this
Thursday the 2
nd
of July on the Scarburg farm in
Alabama. Mattie Ann and Elizabeth, Sergeant Robert Steven’s two
youngest daughters are playing under the large tulip poplar at the
edge of the yard. They are startled by a hoarse, screaming
kee-eeeee-arr
sound from a large bird circling overhead.
Looking up they see nothing, the bird flew behind the branches of
the tree where they are sitting. Scared and trembling Mattie Ann
drops her shuck doll to the ground and the girls run toward the
safety of the house.


Mama! Mama, there is some
kind of big bird screeching at us out yonder in the yard,” she says
slamming the screen door behind her. “What is it Mama?”


Hush child, hush don’t
tell me! I don’t want to hear you say it!”


What? Say what
Mama?”


Hawk! That... that was a
red-tailed hawk!”


But Mama, it acted like
it was screaming at me and Elizabeth!”


It probably was Mattie
Ann. Sit down baby and I will explain. Your Granny Scarburg had
lived with us right before she died. She told me the tale of the
hawks.”

Mattie Ann sat at the kitchen table,
wide-eyed as she listens to her mother tell Granny Scarburg’s story
of the hawk.


Granny, a full blood
Cherokee Indian, named Running Doe got the story from her mother. I
suppose Granny wanted to make sure she had passed it on before she
died.”


Passed on what
Mama?”


She said the hawk is a
messenger from God or as Granny said the Great Spirit. She said He
sends warning to us through the spirit of the red-tail hawk. The
hawk is the messenger! Hawks warn of enemies, or foretell of
tragedy. Seeing or dreaming about a hawk can be seen as a warning
of danger too.”


Mama, what did the hawk
say that me and Lizzie saw?”


No baby girl, they don’t
say
anything. Once you hear the hawk’s screeching it is a
warning that something is going to happen. You must watch carefully
to see the direction the hawk flies. Danger or death will come from
that direction.”


What was my hawk’s
warning?”


Baby girl, I don’t know.
Go back and watch, if he is trying to talk to you he will come
back. Watch which way he flies as he leaves, the direction will
tell you.”

Later while playing Mattie Ann is
startled by the shrill cry:
kee-eeeee-arr
. She looks up her
hawk is back. Around and around the beautiful red-tailed bird soars
screeching its mournful cry, Lizzie is scared and begins to cry.
Mattie Ann stands watching, mesmerized by the flapping of the
hawk’s wings and the hypnotic sound it constantly emits; finally,
it flies off and does not return.

She runs back into the
house.


Mama! Mama, it flew off.
What does that mean?”


Which way? Which way did
it fly?”


North! North Mama, it
flew off toward the north.”

Malinda grabs the tail of her
beautifully embroidered apron her mother had given her when she
married Robert, places it to her eyes as the tears begin to
flow.


Mama! What’s the matter,
why are you crying? What did the hawk mean?”


North my baby north is
the direction of your father and the boys.”

 

Chapter Four

 

SCARBURG MILL

 

The Yankee’s bayonet hole in Roberts’s
chest hurts. It hurts something awful. Sweat runs down his face in
beads. The sweat drips into his eyes, but he does not have the
strength to wipe it away. He lays his head against the stone
boulder – it is cool, it feels good on his face. The dampness smell
of moss and rotten wood envelops his nostrils. The scent reminds
him of the caves behind his house that overlook Hog
Creek.

He is alone bleeding to death
abandoned by his son’s Luke and Matthew. He wishes he did not have
to die forsaken; although, hundreds of his fellow soldiers are
suffering and dying within earshot he still feels neglected and
forgotten.

He drifts in and out of consciousness.
When awake, he is living a nightmare, a terrifying nightmare; the
battle, a terrible battle is still raging in all its fury. When
unconscious, which is a blessing, his mind lets him dream of home
and his family. Especially Malinda, he can almost feel the soft
blonde curls, which cascade down around her shoulders. He can smell
the soft scent of the lilac water on the nape of her neck. Please
he thinks let this dream continue.

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