"I don't like it Charlie." Cavalry Captain James Nichols said to his friend.
"The Major has his orders James." Lieutenant Charles Waverly answered.
"But something does not feel right!" James said as he rubbed down joey, his sleek chestnut charger; Charlie was in the stall opposite James, grooming his own mare, Frost.
"I mean do you really think that a brigade of 200 foot soldier would go out near enemy lines with no means of protection?"
Charlie looked down at his boots. "I understand what you mean, James, and I hear you, but our scouts said there were no battery, no nests, nothing! I just hope that when the time comes I …" his voice faltered. James looked up from the piece of mane he was concentrating of and gazed across the stalls.
"You do not sound so confident my friend." He said smoothly.
Charlie hid his face behind his mares' neck, lest he show his emotions.
"I- I am afraid James!" he spoke urgently, "I'm afraid to …to…" he couldn't finish.
James had stepped out of Joey's stall and crossed over to his friend.
"Charlie?" he said, his voice so low that Waverly could hardly hear him, "you will make it, you hear me? I know you will, you must tell yourself that. You have courage and loyalty, even if you don't feel it, it is there, it is waiting for you to use it, I know it is there, it is time to prove to yourself what is inside you." He forced a smile on his face.
Charlie smiled back; James knew he too was faking.
Nichols put a hand on his friends shoulder and shook it. "You will be fine my friend." With that he quietly went back to Joey. As he brushed the horses sleek neck brick-brown coat, he couldn't help but feel impending doom weigh down his own shoulders.
"You are right!" came a small voice behind. Charlie had gathered himself to his full height and was returning Frosts tack to the tack-room. "I just need to stay calm, just… if only I had the soul courage you do James, you seem so sure, I will trust you." James smiled as he watched his friend leave the room. He took off his hat and raked a hand through his dirty-blond hair. His smile faded as he turned back to Joey.
"I-I am not as brave as he thinks I am Joey!" James said, his voice sounded hurt, "I just can't…" his voice came in a hoarse whisper. "I'm afraid to die, just as much as he is."
Alone in the stables with just the horses for company, Nichols wept; they were not cowards tears, but tears of a beaten man, thrown by fate, who believes he had his company are being sent to an infallible death. The only visible light was certain death at the end of his tunnel.
"Why does the world do this to us boy?"
The horse wrapped his neck around James shoulders, pressing his master to his warm, smooth side.
Major Jamie Stewart had gathered his 400 some horsemen to a clearing, not a thousand yards from the enemy encampment.
James was patting Joey on the neck and making sure all his equipment was in order.
"This seems to be ship shape, Joey, nothing lacking…" he turned and took Joey's bridle.
Looking into the horse's eyes, he said softly, "You going to be my good boy? Eh Joey? That's a lucky boy."
Joey's soft brown eyes calmed James. He sighed, "Ah, Joey! My legs feel so weak!"
The horse whinnied and rubbed his head against his master as if trying to reassure him.
"Thank you Joey." James whispered in the animal's ear.
"Company! Mount!" the cry came loud and strong from the Major's lips.
With creaking of leather and jingling of bits, the company mounted their horses' as one. James heartbeat was ringing in his ears like a drum, he hardly heard Charlie ride up beside him.
"Major wants you beside him James." Waverly was saying.
"Wh-what? Oh! Yes, of course." Nichols responded by turning Joey to the right and going off to find Stewart.
With everyone in formation, Major Stewart turned to face his company.
"Men?" he called out with a strong voice. "We go now to do our King's bidding, do your duty, honor God, and most of all…" his voice faltered but he regained himself and said more loudly than before, "Be Brave!" he paused and looked at his men through moist eyes, "Be Brave!" he said again, "Be Brave!"
The Major spurred his horse, Topthorn, who swung around and stamped his hoofs in impatience.
"Company!" Stewart called, "Forward walk."
Each man clucked to his horse, which in turn began to move forward.
They rode through a wooded area, then a field of tall golden grass. When they had reached the edge of the grass, each man saw what lay ahead, a large field, green and cool in the morning mist; at the far end, a camp of German soldiers who were just waking up. At the Majors order, the swords came out with a ringing hiss. James looked over to Charlie. The man sat rigid in his saddle. James quietly put a hand on his friends shoulder and squeezed. They shook hands and tried to smile for each other.
"I will see you on the other end?" Charlie whispered hopefully.
"God willing, I will see you too, Charlie." James whispered back.
Stewart looked at the two of them and nodded; it was time.
Sitting tall in the saddle, the Major gave the silent command.
It fallowed down the line of officers till every man had seen it, "Full Gallop!"
The horses leapt forward as each rider dug his heals into the animals flank. Away they went, eating up the ground, faster, faster, the sound of thunder was in their hooves!
The two horses in the lead were Joey and Topthorn, each craning his neck and chomping on the bit.
"Come on Joey!" James whispered in the horse's ear, "Come on my friend, let's make it through this!"
German troops scrambled like mad men toward the cover of the forest, each hoping to reach safety.
James heard them before he saw them; planted behind each tree was a Gatling gun!
The rapid fire echoed across the field and into the forest. There were too many for James to count!
The noise came again, a rattling sound that carried imminent death in its wake.
James shoulder seared with pain, the sword fell from his limp hand. Nichols looked down at his right shoulder, a bullet had torn through, just below his collar bone, and blood was soaking the fabric around the fresh wound.
"Keep going!" he told himself as he gritted his teeth.
James looked to his left and his right, more gunfire sang, and with its wicked tune, soldiers and horses fell, never to rise again.
Horror was plain on James face. The first thought that went streaking through his mind was, "I knew it, and now I and many others will die for it!"
There was a deafening roar close to James; two more bullets hit him in the mid-section, throwing him from Joeys back. Nichols hit the ground with a fire-like burn in his shoulder and stomach. The last thing he saw was Joey running in the distance with Albert's flag, flapping from his bridle.
"Go….Jo-Joey….." James whispered; in a sweep of pain everything plummeted into darkness for Captain James Fredrick Nichols."
Charlie looks frantically for James or Stewart. He was beginning to lose hope when he caught site of James. He must have been hit, because at the burst of the gun, Nichols hand flew to his shoulder. Charlie strained his eyes to keep with James, but other riders blocked his view and he lost sight of his friend. Not long after another gun fire, Charlie saw Joey, running rider less. Deep in Charlie's heart, he knew that James was dead. He did not feel the bullet that ripped his leg open, nor did he feel him and horse falling, he did not feel the bone crushing weight on his wounded leg that came from Frost, who had been shot dead. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel; deep in his heart, he knew James was dead. It was over.