Excerpt

From Chapter Sixteen: Day Three

Get up, Culp. Get up! frothed Major Hartshorne. Cant you hear those Reb bullets ricocheting off the wall?

Bucky sat up wearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His head pounded from the stress of yesterdays battle, and he was disoriented and sore.

Hurry, Culp! Hurry! Today, youre going to earn those stripes youre so proud of. Sergeant, I want you to lead a party to the Devils Den and see how many Confederates are dug in up there.

Bucky cringed as another Minie ball sang off the stone fence. Ill do my best fer ya, sir, he muttered sarcastically, giving Hartshorne a tired salute. Jess like always.

Staying on his haunches, Culp crept to join an already assembled company crouched near the end of the wall. The sergeant led them into the forest to where Colonel Taylor had been killed. There, he signaled for the men to spread into a thin skirmish line and to advance through the dew-slick underbrush. They moved noiselessly within a hundred yards of the Reb infested jumble of boulders when Jimmy Jewett slipped on the wet grass and toppled grunting into a patch of tall ferns. Sharp-eared gray sentries immediately sprang to life, and the woods again echoed with the steady pop of muskets.

Looks like them Rebs we run inta last night, growled Hosea from behind a mossy oak.

Lets give em hell! yelled Bucky.

Amen! seconded Jimmy. Lets see if I can shoot better than I kept my footing. Sorry, fellas.

Hidden behind rocks and trees, the Bucktails poured a withering fire into the Devils Den with their breechloading Sharps. Their shots were so fast and accurate that the Rebels spent more time ducking than shooting back. Each time a gray arm worked a ramrod in the rocks, it was spotted by a keen set of eyes. Instantly, a deadly blast rang out, and another Reb flopped over, struck through the vitals.

Lookee there, hissed Boone from behind a boulder. Aint that the fella who killed the colonel?

Yes, siree, whispered Bucky. Id know that squished hat o his anywhere.

The Reb sharpshooter was hidden behind a beech tree. The Bucktails had spotted the corner of his broken kepi peeping from the brush. The only shot that presented itself was through the three-inch crotch of two branches. Bucky and Boone drew careful aim and fired simultaneously. As the Rebel threw up his arms and keeled over backward, Boone hollered, That boy aint gonna blast no more officers. I got im!

What do ya mean? I got im! insisted Bucky.

By the red spray in the air, Id say ya both nailed the rascal, barked Hosea. Keep shootin!

The Bucktails continued to decimate the Reb ranks until the enemy came boiling out of their protective dens. Incensed by the loss of their comrades, they charged in a swelling gray wave that was irresistible in its size and fierceness. The Confederates swept into the woods shrieking like dispossessed fiends until Bucky yelled, Theres too many o em. Fall back!

The Pennsylvanians worked crab-like down the slope, keeping to cover and firing just often enough to hold the Rebs at bay. They scurried from tree to tree until they reached the shelter of the stone wall where their comrades laid down a covering barrage. The Confederates fired a few parting rounds and slowly melted away to their rocky refuge on the ridge.

Bucky had no sooner reported to Hartshorne when the feisty major growled, I see you stirred those Rebels up pretty good, Culp. Being youre familiar with the terrain up there, I want you to guide Lieutenant Kratzers company and make another attack. The enemy wont expect you again so soon. Youre sure to take the fight out of them this time.

Yes, sir, the sergeant answered grimly.

Sergeant Culp directed Kratzers party back up the ridge, through the thick forest, and right to the doorstep of the Devils Den. No Rebs opposed them as they sneaked silently along and then dispersed into a battle line. At the lieutenants signal, the Bucktails dashed forward and got within a few feet of the enemy before the waiting Rebs leaped up and poured a murderous fire into the Pennsylvania ranks.

The Bucktail next to Bucky fell with a fatal head wound as another screaming bullet creased the sergeants ear. The sting of his wound so infuriated Culp that he tackled the nearest Reb and brutally bashed his head against the rocks until he quit moving.

Kratzer, meanwhile, was engaged in a hot pistol duel with a lean Confederate officer who had a saber scar on his stubbly cheek. Both men fired twice at point-blank range before the Confederate collapsed with blood oozing from a neat bullet hole in his forehead. Kratzers left arm, pierced through the elbow, hung uselessly at his side. Clutching his wound, the lieutenant screamed frantically for the men to retreat.

Bucky shot a charging Reb square in the face. Then he caved in the throat of a second attacker with his rifle butt before fleeing with the other Bucktails. He had just reentered the woods when there was a wild volley of musket fire behind him. As leaves showered from the surrounding trees, Bucky lowered his head and sprinted down the hill with amazing agility. He dodged oaks, hurdled rocks, and didnt stop running until he had vaulted the stone wall sheltering his squad.

As Culp collapsed in a panting heap beside his mates, Jimmy cried, Look! Hes bleeding! Where are you hit, Bucky?

Probably in the backside, replied the acerbic voice of Major Hartshorne. That was the only target the sergeant presented.

That aint true, gasped Lieutenant Kratzer, staggering around the end of the wall holding his shattered arm. The Rebs was layin fer us, Major. They waited til we was ten feet away be-fore blastin us. An Culp was right there in the thick o it. Its a miracle any o us sur-vived.