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As dawn
broke, Charlie got stiffly to her feet and made her way off into the
brush to relieve her full bladder. It was always a fearful time,
crouching in the weeds and trying to keep a lookout for any stray
soldier coming across her path. Completing her mission, Charlie went
back to camp and was soon occupied with getting ready with the other
soldiers who were preparing to mount a surprise attack against the
unsuspecting Federals.
“Go!” came
the command and Charlie, with Clarence a few feet away, ran through the
trees, rifle loaded and yelling at the top of her lungs. Leaves, pine
needles and snow crunched under her brogans. She hated those Yankees.
They were the invading army and they had killed Josh! They would die now
for what they did! She repeated this vow each time they encountered the
enemy.
More fallen
maple and pine trees blocked their way up ahead. She could see the gray
and butternut uniforms scattered on both sides of her, all of them
running toward the enemy’s reported position. Some of the Rebels were
firing, but Charlie didn’t see any blue uniforms yet. She didn’t
fire…just held her gun at the ready as she ran with her heart in her
throat.
Shouting
and gunfire ricocheted through the trees. Puffs of smoke from the guns
and the men’s steamy breath could be seen easily in the frosty air.
Suddenly
she saw the Bluecoats. Lots and lots of the despised Bluecoats had
appeared as if conjured up by magic. They leaped up from behind the
fallen logs with rifles blazing. The shots ripped through a soldier on
her right and he went down screaming. Charlie threw herself to the
ground and fired. A Yank fell back, holding his shoulder as bright red
blood streamed down his chest. Her fear of the dreaded enemy vanished in
the next heartbeat as she saw the pain and fear on the man’s pudgy face
seconds before he fell. He was just a man.
There was
no room for second thoughts, no room for doubt now! Ripping a paper
cartridge open, she poured the power in and reloaded her rifle.
Screaming and yelling filled her ears and she wanted to jump up and run
away from the chaos. Gritting her teeth, she clamped down hard on the
primitive flight instinct and took aim once more. Again she hit her
chosen target and he went down on the hard frozen ground.
Bullets
whistled by her ears, plowing long furrows in the ground all around.
More shelter! She had to find something to get behind! A gray pall of
smoke began to gather in the low-lying hollows. Charlie ran behind a
large tree and crouched low behind it, kneeling on a protruding root
that cut into her leg uncomfortably. Using her teeth, she tore open
another paper cartridge, tasting the black powder before going through
the motions of loading once more. By now she was so used to the routine
that it came easily, like second nature.
Load, aim,
shoot. Load, aim, shoot. Where was Clarence? It hit her suddenly that no
Confederate uniforms were in her field of vision. Union soldiers were
still in front of her, advancing through the trees to her left with guns
spitting fire, stepping over dead bodies and abandoned gear lying in the
snow. Panic swept over her and her heart seemed to pound so hard that
she expected the Yankees to all turn and look in her direction. Dear
Lord! Where did they all go? Was she the only Reb left? There was no
denying her instincts this time, when fear shot through her so hard that
her teeth chattered.
Clutching
her rifle to her chest, Charlie ran.
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