by Unknown
I smiled and nodded and then I told him about Mary. “You are truly Lucky Jack. You have more reason to live than any of us. You have two women now in your life. That is twice as many as the rest of us put together. You will survive of that I have no doubt and the rest of us will watch down on you.”
I was shocked, “Harry! This is not like you! You are not usually maudlin.”
“No, but I am a realist, and I don’t have your luck.”
I headed for my tent and Sergeant Major Mulrooney strode over to me beaming from ear to ear. ”I heard that you made it sir!”
“And I am glad to see you too.” I handed him my carbine. “This broke a few days ago. You couldn’t look at it for me could you?”
“Sir, I would be delighted.”
The colonel was still a little hung over when the courier brought our orders. Danny read them. We were not to be with Stuart. We found out later that he spent the day fighting the Union cavalry at East Cavalry Field. Instead General Hill had requested that we support the attack of General Longstreet. We headed south to a date with destiny. We were to guard the right flank of General George Pickett’s division as they attacked the heart of the Union lines at Cemetery Ridge.
We left as the first thin light of dawn peered over the eastern horizon. As we headed down the Emmitsburg Road we could see the fires of the Union pickets flickering on the skyline. The supply sergeant was probably beginning to fry his bacon and brew his coffee as we passed the Confederate troops who were making do with stale bread and watered down coffee dregs. The men we passed were, however, in good spirits.
“Yee haw boys, you give ‘em hell!”
We cheered them back. They probably thought we were going to charge the lines. Artillery men always liked the thought of their own cavalry hurtling across a field with guidons fluttering and sabres shining. The reality was different. Danny waved me forward.
“Jack, you know this area well. The orders say that the attack will go directly east. Where does that place us?”
“There is a stream called Plum Run. We can leave the horses at Codori Farm and head down to the valley bottom while it is still dark.” I looked at the lightening sky. “What time is the attack supposed to be?”
“Some time after noon.”
“Then we better make sure we have plenty of ammunition and supplies.”
Danny nodded. “Sergeant Ritchie, go and see what you can dig up. Do you know where the farmhouse is?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then meet us there.”
I nodded to Danny and pointed at the colonel’s back. He was riding next to Harrison, the bugler and his shoulders sagged. “What is eating the colonel?”
“He enjoyed playing cavalryman; the charges and the fighting with sabres. It is what he always really wanted to do and now he is missing out on a cavalry battle. He doesn’t like us being a supporting regiment. He wants us to be at the heart of the action.”
“I have lost my appetite for action sir.”
“I know what you mean.” He smiled brightly, “Still if this attack works today and General Stuart can attack them in the rear then this war could be over. Abe will have to sue for peace if we are loose in Pennsylvania.”
“I have seen their cannon sir. This will not be an easy battle. Those men will have to charge uphill into the teeth of a fierce cannonade.”
“Well, Jackie boy, at least we will have a front row view of the whole thing eh?”
We left the horses with Sergeant James and four men. We should have left more but we had less than one hundred and twenty men left for this action. I was just pleased that Copper would be spared the fighting. I did not want lose my horse. Copper was worth more than a vainglorious charge. The colonel looked glumly at Major Murphy, “Well Danny, where to? You read the orders.”
Danny deferred to me and I spoke, “Well sir, if we head down to the bottom of the valley we will be in dead ground. We can move forwards when the attack begins.”
“You suddenly seem like an expert, Jack.”
“I have been watching men attack across this valley for two days. The generals might have maps and know where the men are going but once the attack starts then anything can happen. I guess we need to be flexible.”
Sergeant Ritchie and his men joined us. They had some sacks with them. “We managed to get some ham; it’s none too fresh but it will be better than nothing. We managed to get some ammunition off the Yankee prisoners from the other day.”
Colonel Boswell waved an impatient hand, “Come on then; Captain Hogan lead them off.”
The artillerymen gave us a cheer as we marched in single file down the slope. “We’ll blast a hole for you cavalry boys. You’ll just walk right through them!”
Our troopers cheered but I was not so sure. Our guns were effective at close range but I did not think they would worry the Union forces too much. Cecil hurried to catch up with me. “Here sir,” he handed me my carbine, “it sure was in a bad way. Lucky I kept some parts from bust up guns. It’ll work fine from now on.”
“Thanks Cecil, I don’t know what we would do without you.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The colonel was a good fifty paces behind us. “Between you and me sir, I wish I was your sergeant again. I am not cut out to be a Sergeant Major.”
“You are Cecil but I am not sure that any of us are cut out for this.”
When we reached the bottom I sent my company up the slope about a hundred yards. “Tell me what you can see.”
When the colonel arrived I saw him pale as the dawn showed the bodies left over from the previous day. They were still littering the valley bottom. Reb and Yank were entwined in death. The smell would be atrocious once the July sun started to cook them.
“How come nobody moved these bodies?”
“I think they were more concerned with the living, colonel.”
“They are going to stink when the sun gets up.”
I looked at Dago and shook my head, “That’s war sir. Men die and their bodies rot.”
It seemed to me that the reality of the situation finally sank in. This was not the glorious picture of war envisaged by the colonel. His dream of leading a regiment behind Jeb Stuart in a charge to win the war was a pipe dream. He sank to his haunches.
Danny looked at him sadly. “Right, let’s get the men organised. Sergeant Major Mulrooney, spread the men out below Captain Hogan’s skirmishers. Tell them to rest while we can. Sergeant Ritchie, distribute those supplies.” He looked at the stream. “I was going to say fill the canteens but I ain’t going to drink that water.”
I pointed to the north. “There are two good streams just the other side of the Emmitsburg Road.” I saw Sergeant Jones on the hillside. “Sergeant Jones, collect some canteens and head for Pitzer’s Run and get them filled with clean water.”
While the sergeant and four men went back up the slope Danny and I slithered forwards to join my men. We could see, in the distance the ranks of cannon arrayed on the top of the ridge. Behind them we could just see the officers of the infantry regiments on their horses. I looked to the right and saw the Irish flag which marked the position of Mick O’Callaghan’s guns.
“Those are the fellows who want us dead, Danny.”
He looked in the direction I was pointing. “Where the flag is?”
“Yup. We know he is a sergeant but each gun will have one of those.”
Danny looked at me; he had a wild grin on his face. “When the battle starts it would be nice and easy to crawl close to them guns eh? Mebbe end this once and for all.” I nodded. Yes, I would like that too. I hated looking over my shoulder and wondering if they were just the enemy or murderers. But we would obey orders and follow the colonel.
It was just after noon when the one hundred and fifty Confederate guns began to roar across the valley. Soon the whole of the Emmitsburg Road was wreathed in smoke. We heard the whistling as balls and shells soared overhead. Strangely the Union guns remained silent. We could see nothing of o
ur own lines now save a fog of smoke which rose in spirals. We knew that the men of Pickett’s division would be assembling and preparing to charge the Union lines. I did not know how they would charge for if we tried it as cavalry we would have to pause before the final assault. They would be running uphill and I did not think they would move very fast. The temperature was soaring. Although I would not drink the polluted water of Plum Run I did soak my jacket in it to cool me down. Others followed suit.
The cannons fired for almost two hours and then they stopped. We all knew what that meant. The attack by the infantry would soon begin. Danny mobilised us. “Sergeant Major, get the men spread out. We will approach to within carbine range and harass the gunners.”
I turned to Sergeant Ritchie, “Let’s go sergeant.”
I made sure, for the umpteenth time that my carbine was loaded and we began to move up the slope. The shape of the hill meant that we saw nothing until we crested a bump and we saw the guns. I could see they were ready to fire for each gun captain had his lanyard in his hand. We still had another hundred yards to go before we were in range. An officer saw us and I expected an order from them to fire but I suspect we were too few in number to worry about. I risked a glance back to our own lines and saw that the smoke had cleared. There was a line of men a mile long and they were marching resolutely towards us.
“Good God Almighty! Will you look at that?” There was wonder in Sergeant Ritchie’s voice.
“Back to business, sergeant. We need to annoy these gunners and make them miss!”
We scrambled to a point some hundred and thirty yards from the guns. If they took it into their heads then we could have been brushed aside like flies but the mile wide column of men which was advancing was a much better target and we would be an annoyance only.
“Pick your targets and fire at will!”
I aimed at a gun captain who appeared to be ready to fire. I hit him and he fell. As he did so he pulled the lanyard and the gun went off prematurely. There was a ripple of carbines and then our sound was drowned out by the wall of noise and concussion as seventy nine guns belched forth flame and lead. Fortunately for me I had taken a prone position but I saw some of our troopers knocked down the hill by the concussion.
I saw that some of my men were staring up the hill, “Keep firing!”
I shot again and hit the artilleryman with the rammer. Others hit the crew as well and one gun, at least was out of action until they could man it again. Someone had had enough already and a line of skirmishers appeared at the ridge line.
Danny yelled, “Yankee infantry!”
We switched targets. The skirmishers had the Enfield rifle which was more accurate than our weapons. Our only advantage was that we could fire from a prone position. I aimed at a sergeant who was urging his men forward. He fell clutching his arm. I heard cries from around me as men fell. I kept firing until I had emptied my gun. I drew my pistol. The range was too great but the skirmishers were closing with us. All the while the guns behind them could not fire. We were, at any rate, still helping our comrades who were now almost at the bottom of the valley.
The colonel suddenly shouted, “Fall back!”
To my horror I saw some of the men with him turn and begin to run down the hill. It was the wrong decision to make. Our pistols would be more effective the closer the Union skirmishers came. The fleeing men were thrown to the ground by the volley from behind.
I turned to my men. “Face your enemy!”
I slung my carbine and fired four shots from my Colt in the direction of the blue uniforms heading for me. I stepped back a few steps and fired my last two shots. I changed guns. I could see the bodies of our troopers lying to the left of me. The skirmishers had now dropped to their knees and the cannon fired again. Glancing over my shoulder I saw that there were huge gaps appearing in the mile wide column. The men of Pickett’s division were no cowards and they closed the gaps and relentlessly marched up towards the top of the ridge.
“My company! To me!”
I was on the extreme right and I did not want to become isolated. Sergeant Ritchie appeared with a handful of men. “Let’s hold them here.”
The ten of us knelt and began to fire as fast as we could reload. When I looked up the slope I saw that the skirmishers were falling back. I wondered why. When I looked behind me I saw the column had crossed Plum Run. It was now just half a mile wide but they were still marching relentlessly up the slope. They were singing patriotic songs. I could see that they only carried single shot rifle muskets. When they charged it would be with a bayonet; they were courageous men indeed.
I began to reload my carbine. I had a terrible thirst but I had no time to drink. “Right boys, let’s go back up and annoy them some more.”
Just then Cecil appeared at my shoulder. “Do you mind if I join you sir?”
“Shouldn’t you be with the colonel?”
In answer he pointed to his left and there was the body of Colonel James Boswell bleeding his life away on Cemetery Ridge. His grand adventure had come to an end. “And the major?”
“He’s been wounded too I had the lads carry him back to the farm.” He pointed to Harry and Dago who had a knot of troopers with them and were making their way back up Seminary Ridge. “That’s all that is left sir. The rest are dead or wounded.”
I was as angry as I had ever been. What a waste of good men! “Right lads! We are going up that hill and we aren’t going to stop until we have that flag with a Shamrock on it!”
They gave the rebel yell and we began to dodge and duck our way up the slope. The infantry column was now less than six hundred yards from the guns and the canister was sweeping all before them. Everyone in the Union lines was firing at Pickett’s men. They had forgotten about us. They would pay for that error.
“Don’t fire until I give the order.” We got to within a hundred yards of our target. We were looking directly at the guns operated by Sergeant O’Callaghan and his men. “I want both of those gun crews killing! Fire!”
There were eleven of us and we fired our carbines at the two crews. They stood no chance. We were aided by the fact that, even as they died they fired their guns and we rushed the last few yards through a wall of smoke which hid us from view.
I found myself close to the limbers. A major rushed at me with his sabre. I fired my Colt at point blank range and his head disappeared. I saw blue everywhere and I fired until my gun was empty. I took my carbine and used it as a club. I had battle madness within me. Every face in a blue uniform was someone for me to kill. I was afraid of no-one. I felt my arm being tugged and heard Cecil say, “Sir. We have done enough. Let’s get back!”
I nodded. I saw a charge lying on the floor next to me still in the gunner’s hand. I picked it and threw it towards the limber some forty yards away.
“Irish, shoot the bag and then drop to the ground!”
He laughed, “Sir, you are a mad bugger. Go on then!”
I picked up a second one and hurled it after the first. I threw myself to the ground. Cecil followed its arc and fired. He dropped almost immediately. The explosion deafened me and a wall of air knocked other gunners from their feet. I groggily stood as quickly as I could. I helped Cecil to his feet. “Get the men back to safety. I’ll be right behind.”
I was lying for I had one more job to do. I ran to the sergeant of artillery who was lying next to the flag with the Shamrock on it. He was barely alive when I reached him and was trying to push his guts back inside his body. He looked at me strangely
I put my face close to his, “Are you Mick O’Callaghan?” He looked confused but nodded. “I am one of the Wildcats you have been hunting. I guess I will claim my reward now eh?”
I reached inside his jacket but I found no wallet. Instead I found a bundle of paper. I took them anyway. “Rot in hell O’Callaghan!”I turned and ran. As I ran down the ridge I was forced to witness the slaughter of the men of Pickett’s division. They were enfiladed by muskets and cannon and their flanks we
re filled with their dead and dying. I saw that it was enough for one Virginia regiment which fled down the hill. I did not blame them.
As I ran I passed familiar faces; they were the dead troopers we had led towards the guns. I felt balls and bullets buzzing around me but I led a charmed life and they all missed me. I almost fell in Plum Run but I managed to stumble across and up the other side. Suddenly there was a blinding light as a shell exploded above me. I found myself lying on the ground and looking up. Was this what death felt like?
I briefly closed my eyes for some peace and, when I opened them, there was Sergeant Ritchie and Sergeant Major Mulrooney standing over me. “Come on sir. I think you have just about used up all of your luck.”
They half dragged and half carried me back to the farm. There was David, our doctor, seeing to our wounded. I looked for the faces of my friends. There was Dago, having his head bandaged and Harry lying on a cot looking white. At least two of my friends had survived.
I turned to look back at Cemetery Ridge; the survivors of the failed charge were flooding down the hill. Lee’s gamble had failed. We would now lose this war. Of that I was certain.
“You had better lie down sir.”
“It is alright Ritchie; I just had the wind knocked from out of me. Sergeant Major, see what the butcher’s bill is.”
“Sir!”
Ritchie handed me a canteen. “What were you doing at the end sir? With that sergeant?”
“I was laying a ghost to rest. That was the man who put a price on our heads. He won’t be paying it any more.” I suddenly looked around the farmhouse. “Where is the major?”
