Jonathan Meyer
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
June 30th, 2013-9:30 PM Local Time
'I still can't believe the big day is almost here!' John thought excitedly.
Meyer had just graduated from High School two months earlier and he had a pretty easy, average life. Now, the history buff had finally arrived at the location he dreamt and read about since he was five as he unloaded the bin containing his Wedge tent from the back of his 2006 Chevrolet Tahoe.
"Hey, John!" Reilly Smith cried out, rushing up to greet him.
"Reilly! You good for nothing damn black hat!" Meyer laughed heartily. "You know where the rest of the unit is at?"
"I'll show you the way, John. We can't keep the others waiting."
John is a member of a reenacting unit called D Company, 19th Indiana Volunteers which is based upon the original Company D who fought in the famed Iron Brigade during the American Civil War.
John looked around and saw rows of tentage with some reenactors already in uniform while others were just like him: dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. The weather was currently a lovely ninety degrees with high humidity. Still, more were just arriving at the already packed parking lot and began to unload their equipment.
The buddies walked for a few more yards until they reached the designated campsite for their unit. Frank, Joe, and Robert were already waiting for them.
"Well well. Look who we have here." Franklin Tucker grinned as he notices the new arrivals.
"Is that John?" Joseph Smith questioned.
"Yep. It's good old me alright." Meyer declared as he sat down the bin holding his tent. "Where would you like me to set up?"
"There's plenty of room next to mine."
"Thanks, Joe."
Meyer began unpacking the A-Frame, rope, and iron stakes along with the three wooden posts he connected to keep the canvas from falling down.
"Need any assistance?" Robert O'Neill asked.
"Nah. I'm good."
Unbeknownst to John, in less than six hours, the man will be heading to war. And they say that Gettysburg was haunted...
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Abigail Foxley-6th Pennsylvania Cavalry 'Rush's Lancers'- Reserve Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Cavalry Corps, Army of the Potomac.
McPherson Ridge, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-8:30 AM Local Time
Eighteen years old Abigail Foxley-known as 'Andy Smith' to her comrades- loaded her carbine once again as the Confederate infantry slowly advanced on the road known as the 'Chambersburg Pike'. The Sixth Pennsylvania Calvary were holding the line against the graybacks who have yet again decided to come up North of the Mason-Dixon line. By holding the high ground overlooking the road and utilizing breechloaders, the Union cavalry was managing to hold their positions against the Johnnies, but Abby knows by now that it's only a matter of time until the Rebs take the ridge with their superior numbers and the Federals need reinforcements soon.
Aiming her Model 1859 Sharps, Foxley sees a grayback Sergeant urging his men forward and the blonde open fired, the .52 Caliber round hitting his leg a few moments later. The man she shot was picked up by two Privates and carried off from the field to the rear.
Abby had grown up in a well-respected gentry family over three thousand miles away just outside of Bristol, England listening to her grandfather's tale of his time in India as well as hearing about the Charge of the Light Brigade during the War in the Crimea. She became fascinated with the idea of war and dreamt of partaking in a glorious campaign against Her Majesty's enemies, but she knew that it would never be possible as it was expected of her to become a mother after being married off to another gentry family or perhaps the nobility. Her own mother, a Scot by heritage, died during childbirth in 1858 and her father never got over the deaths. That was when things began to go downhill after her father remarried. Her stepmother-Jane Farrell- distasted the fact that her stepdaughter was part Scottish and didn't hide it. The final straw was in the Spring of 1861 when her family took a vacation across the Atlantic to Philadelphia. Unbeknownst to her at the time, she was going to meet her future husband, who was looking after his investments. That man was also her step-uncle and after being touched inappropriately against her will, Abby ran off.
Ever since then, Abby wondered what would have occurred if she remained behind instead of running off. This wasn't her fight nor her land but yet she enlisted as a means to escape her situation and to perhaps live a better life.
Shaking her head out of her thoughts, Abby reloaded her breechloader, took careful aim and open fire on another Reb as the endless rows of graybacks marched towards the ridge.
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Jonathan Meyer
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
June 30th, 2013-10:30 PM Local Time
John stepped out of the portable outhouse wearing his frock coat, trousers, and the famed Hardee hat used by the Iron Brigade and the Regular Army during the War between the States. He also had on his accouterments and in his hand is a .58 Caliber 1861 Springfield rifle-musket. The Hoosier native was satisfied that everything was in order and he was ready for the next day.
'Well, I guess the ten thousand dollars in equipment was worth it in the end.' Meyer smiled but his eyes widened at a most curious sight. In front of him was a glowing figure in the uniform of a Confederate Brigadier General nodding his disapproval at the reenactor.
"After one hundred and fifty years, the North and the South are still fighting each other. And I thought Yankees were unsophisticated factory workers with no culture. But I am wrong. I once had hope in General Lee, but I lost it after my life was forfeited when I made the charge with Pickett."
John was stunned and he recognized the spirit instantly from a few history books. Before him was the ghost of Lewis Addison Armistead!
"W..What do...you want." The Hoosier stammered. John wasn't sure if his weapon would do anything against a specter, but Meyer raised the Springfield to the ready position and pulled the hammer back to half cock.
"I want you Jonathan Meyer to see what the war was actually like. I am ashamed that society today is looking at the conflict as a political tool, forgetting that over six hundred thousand Americans lost their lives. I need you to experience the conflict and eat, sleep and fight alongside the men who participated in the Second American Revolution John. You are going back in time."
All of a sudden, a lightning bolt struck the reenactor before he could protest and John's vision went to black.
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Abigail Foxley-6th Pennsylvania Cavalry 'Rush's Lancers'- Reserve Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Cavalry Corps, Army of the Potomac.
McPherson Ridge, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-9:00 AM Local Time
'As usual. They don't give up so easily.' Abby sighed in her mind as the skirmish line continued to hold off the Johnnies, but ammunition for the Cavalry units are beginning to run out and Foxley knows that unless reinforcement comes, she and her comrades will be forced to surrender the town to the Rebels and escaped on horseback.
'Pepper better be staying out of trouble because I might need him soon.'
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Major General John F. Reynolds
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-9:00 AM Local Time
Army of the Potomac's I Corps, 1st Division, 1st 'Iron' Brigade.
Major General John F. Reynolds walked down the line checking on his men as they marched to reinforce Buford and his cavalry. He was about to head back to the head of the column when Reynolds saw that one of his men was asleep in a nearby ditch. Understanding that his men were tired from the marching, the man got off from his horse, gave the reins to an orderly, and walked over to him.
"Time to get up Private."
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Jonathan Meyer
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-9:00 AM Local Time
Army of the Potomac's I Corps, 1st Division, 1st 'Iron' Brigade, 19th Indiana Volunteer Infantry Regiment
John heard a voice and groaned...Wiping his eyes, the Hoosier looked at his surroundings in shock. It was morning and not near the outhouses at all. And there was a General before him.
'I must have a massive hangover last night drinking Bourbon with Reilly again...I don't remember anything about last night except for setting up my tent and changing.'
"Are you okay son? Do you need any water?"
"I'm okay sir. Just tired is all."
The unknown General smiled at Meyer and granted him a pat on the back. "I understand son. We got a big battle ahead and now please fall back into the column."
John got up from the ditch and held his rifle in the 'shoulder arms' position, as soon as he got up, the unknown reenactor asked him something.
"What unit are you apart of Private?"
"The Nineteenth sir."
"Ah, the Indiana regiment under Williams... Your unit is just behind the 2nd Wisconsin."
"Umm...Thanks sir." Meyer knows that the current leader of the 19th Indiana reenactors is not under a 'Williams' but Captain Timothy Clark. Shrugging it off as the General's attempt to stay in character, John rejoined the ranks and marched forward to the field to reenact the first day at Gettysburg.
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
Heaven
God looks down in approval as the reenactor from the 21st Century marched alongside the Iron Brigade towards its destiny at Gettysburg.
It was such a shame to see the process repeat itself again. For centuries, humanity had been in constant conflict with itself, but God knows that it was an unfortunate course for men to compete for resources and the creator of the universe never wanted the world that he called 'Earth' to be in such a state. Ever since Adam and Eve screwed things up in the Garden of Eden after being tempted by that snake, the world went from paradise to occasionally chaotic.
"I hope you realize Jonathan that this engagement is more than just about wearing a uniform and utilizing a gun on weekends and eating non-period pizza at night."
God will attempt to protect Meyer as much as possible, but he isn't going to interfere in the American Civil War unless he wants to change history forever.
"And you better not cause history to take an alternate course Meyer." God mumbled.[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
Jonathan Meyer
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-10:00 AM Local Time
Army of the Potomac's I Corps, 1st Division, 1st 'Iron' Brigade, 19th Indiana Volunteer Infantry Regiment
'This is it.'John thought as he continued marching alongside his fellow reenactors to portray the Iron Brigade's arrival to relieve Buford and his cavalry.
"By the right flank, company into the line!" The Colonel ordered. John and his comrades instantly obeyed the command and changed from a marching formation to form a battleline against the opposition and Meyer smiled. This is going to be a day long remembered days to come as the biggest gathering of reenactors portraying the Iron Brigade of the West.
"Forward! For God sake, forward!" The unknown general barked. Meyer witness the man's waving his sword, urging his men to press the attack, before a single shot rang out...He slumped forward and fell off his horse. An orderly came to check on him, but John was still shocked at what he just witnessed.
'What the Fuck! Who brought live ammunition to the event!' Men right and left and in front of him began to drop like flies and the lines of the graybacks received the same treatment of lead.
"Thar ain't no milissy, it's the damn black hats!" A rebel who yelled those famous words declared from their lines.
'Oh, God...I remember now.' John shouted in his head as the event of the previous night came back to him in a flash. 'SHIT!'
The reenactor now realizes that he is in this mess all thanks to a Confederate ghost and that he has traveled back to Gettysburg circa 1863.
Another one of the men next to him went down and the reenactor knows that blanks are not going to be effective against actual rounds, so the 21st Century man quickly knelt down and began to open the corpse cartridge box when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"What are you doing Private!?" A Sergeant asked John.
"My rounds don't have any lead Sarge...Just powder."
Shaking his head in disbelief, the Sergeant handed John a few rounds out of his cartridge box. "After this, I want to personally inspect your cartridges...Is that understood?"
"Yes Sergeant."
"Powder only my ass." The NCO muttered as he fired his Springfield once more.
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Abigail Foxley-6th Pennsylvania Cavalry 'Rush's Lancers'- Reserve Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Cavalry Corps, Army of the Potomac.
McPherson Ridge, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-11:00 AM Local Time
"Here comes our reinforcements men!"
Abby watches as the Black Hat Brigade of the Army of the Potomac marched forward to meet the graybacks head on and potentially drive them back away from the town. It has been a long morning for the cavalry soldiers defending McPherson Ridge and the eighteen year old believe that her comrades deserve some credit from the infantry for managing to hold the line against the Confederates this day.
It wasn't unknown that the infantry and artillerymen despised the Cavalry for not engaging in action enough, mocking their mounted comrades with the sneer 'Whoever saw a dead cavalryman?'
"Prepare to mount!"
Foxley was handed the reins back from the Corporal who was designated as the fourth man and held the reins of the horses while the other troopers fought.
"So did you behave yourself, Pepper?" Foxley jokingly questioned her Narragansett Pacer, which is unusual in an Army of Morgans and Kentucky Saddlers, but the stallion was loyal despite his notorious antics of wanting to run off and explore every pasture.
However, the bugles interrupted her as the retreat call was sounded and one by one the horses instinctively began to run away from the action.
The trooper can still hear the rifle fire off in the distance as the two factions continue to take casualties and Abigail lamented at the thought of the loss of life, but the war has been in its third year already and it has no sign of stopping soon. The First Bull Run has put that dream to an end, but the President and the citizens of the United States are determined to
"Ready!... Aim!"
'Great.' The woman thought as she heard cracks of musketry being fired at her and her comrades. She pulled out her personal .54 bore Beaumont–Adams revolver and pulled the hammer back before unleashing a .442 caliber ball. One of the Johnnies went down with a round in his shoulder and Abby proceeded to use the Double Action by pulling the trigger.
The Rebels opened up again with another volley and Foxley attempted to get her stallion to run faster, but the Anglo-Scottish woman didn't realize that she was beginning to slip off her M1859 'McClellan' Saddle and her horse bucked back wildly in fear. Abby tried to hold on to the reins but couldn't and she fell off of the side. Her vision faded to black as Pepper ran off with some of the graybacks taking potshots at him.
Unknownst to the Confederates standing next to her shooting at the fleeing animal, the trooper is only unconscious.[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
Jonathan Meyer
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
July 1st, 1863-11:25 AM Local Time
Army of the Potomac's I Corps, 1st Division, 1st 'Iron' Brigade, 19th Indiana Volunteer Infantry Regiment
'This is just great. Go to Gettysburg they say. It'll be fun they say...Time travel wasn't mentioned at all.' John sarcastically reflected as he aimed down the sights of his 1861 Springfield. The reenactor took careful aim and waited for the right moment to fire since the order was 'independent fire' aka fire at will and your own pace.
The reenactor managed to hit his seventeenth Reb and even though he feels disgusted at the killing alongside the fact that he didn't sign up for this, it was actual combat and he needs to survive.
'It was either him or me.' He reminded himself sadly as yet another order was given.
"Company! Ceasefire!... About face! Forward march!"
'So our asses can be targets...Lovely'
John had a few close calls so far and he was glad that he was in the rear ranks...Now he wasn't so glad since his back is now exposed to enemy fire...At least statistically most soldiers of the period missed. But these were also rifles, not smoothbores, and add to the fact that John is taller than the average infantryman of the time, it's a potential death sentence.
"Halt!... Company about face!"
'Praise the Lord.'
"Ready!"
John prepared his musket and made sure it was loaded with a .58 caliber Minne ball and a percussion cap.
"Aim!"
The reenactor chose a target and decided to pick off a grayback officer...He was leading his men to counter the current position of the Union lines, but this officer is going to have his life cut short.
"Fire!"
The entire company opened up in a simultaneous volley and the smoke generated blocked the view of the line. John watches as the smoke disapates and the officer he aimed at was bleeding out from a head wound. He'll be lucky if he survives the night.
'This is just how I wanted my first time visiting Gettysburg to be like. Haunting the past!'
John is in for quite the ride and he knows it. 'Next thing I know is that I'll find myself a nice ticket to Andersonville...A truly wonderful place.'
But speaking of rides, Meyer and the other Black Hats looked on at an unexpected arrival to the scene of the action.
"You got to be shitting me." The reenactor muttered as a riderless horse literally bolted out of a field and caused some confusion in the ranks.
"Language." One of the deeply religious men scolded John. It not that John wasn't religious, for which he is. It's just that the reenactor occasionally uses foul language.
"Well Parker, I guess the Lord Almighty sent us a horse of all things."
"Guess so."
Even the Confederates were astonished at the sight and some of the opposition held their fire as this horse ran past behind the bluebellies position and created a distraction.
"Somebody take control of that horse!"
Shooting still continued regardless of the wild bronco and the order was ignored for now since the 19th Indiana needed to focus on the task at hand despite the entertainment.
"Meyer!" The Sergeant John meet earlier shouted. "I want you to see if you can control that damn animal!"
"Me?" The reenactor was shocked...More like stunned. John already was surprised that he have traveled back in time and now in the middle of a battle of all things, a Sergeant is ordering him to deal with a renegade. "With respect, isn't better to have a cavalryman or an officer or someone who understands horses better than I do, Sarge?"
"The officers are busy ordering us around and the cavalry is retreating Meyer...Do you want a court martial?"
John gulped since some sentences through Court Martials literally were firing squads. "I'll get right on it."
The reenactor fell out of the ranks and proceded to try to grab the animal's harness. Occasionally Jonathan ducked his head as he heard the distinct whistle of bullets zinging nearby and he slowly approached the horse as it ran in circles behind the Union ranks.
'At least its smart enough to stay out of the way.'
The horse continued to prance around as if it was looking for something...or someone and John's gut clenched at the thought of its caretaker has been killed, which could explain why this animal is acting wildly.
The fighting continued all around him and the unruly mammal continued to snort and neigh in anguish. The horse finally stopped running around, stood still near a large boulder, and lowered its head depressingly.
John couldn't help but feel bad at the horse's current welfare. 'I guess it did lose its owner.' He judged as he slowly approached the silver-gray animal. The horse look up and saw Meyer walking towards him, snorting in response.
"Hey. I'm not going to hurt you...Nice horse. Be a good horse."
The farmboy admittedly didn't know much about horses and the closest experience he haves is with a few cows back home, not to mention riding a horse at the fair when he was five or six alongside fighting alongside reenactors who portray cavalry. But other than those three exceptions, John is not knowledgeable in horses at all.
The horse allowed John to touch it and grab its reins.
Meyer turned and saw a sight he didn't want to see yet. The Iron Brigade is retreating!
In fact, Meyer is going to be left behind and maybe be sent to Andersonville if he doesn't catch up. But the horse had other ideas and began to pull Meyer in a direction he didn't want to go.
"Surrender Billy!" One of Tennesseans cried out.
"Enough you stupid animal!" John is thinking that this idiotic mammal is going to get them both killed and Meyer doesn't desire to be taken prisoner to one of the southern POW camps, which had a notorious history of malnutrition and Andersonville was one of the worst next to Libby Prison.
But this mustang was being stubborn as a mule and lead John to a direction it wants to go, no matter what John opinion on the matter was.
"I said surrender Billy!"He ordered again as other southerners backed him up.
John had thought about just giving up and take his chance at one of the era's POW camps and hope for the best when he spotted a 1858 Remington in the saddlebag. Meyer pulled it out and yelled at the deranged, yet patriotic fool.
"Screw you!"
The revolver fire a single .44 caliber ball and John hit the grayback in the neck, severing an artery and blood sprayed out of the mortal wound.
'Let's hope I remember correctly how to ride.' John pondered as he leaped onto the 'McClellan' Saddle.
"Ya!"
The Rebs began to fire at the fleeing man, attempting to avenge their brother in arms to no avail.
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Heaven
God shook his head at the scene as a horse of all things is causing havoc but for now, history has not been changed and the timeline is still intact.
But God wished that the wild Narragansett Pacer would not have been at Willoughby Run near Herbst Woods as the 19th Indiana fought the 1st Tennessee.
'Oh Well. At least John is learning about history and experiencing it for himself.'
Okay. I did a few changes.
It seems like John is in for quite the ride and a fight for his life.
Poor John. The Iron Brigade notoriously suffered from a high causality rate throughout the war and the 19th Indiana specifically lost one in four men at Gettysburg-either killed or wounded.
Yep.
And don't get me started on Small Pox:P
Well, regardless, he is either the luckiest or unluckiest reenactor depending on one's point of view.
And for your information regarding the Adams revolver, .54 bore is .442 caliber...The Brits during the 19th Century interestingly used the Bore (also known as Guage) designation for handguns in addition to shotguns.
And it seems like something alternate history wise is happening...All thanks to a horse.
P.S. Yes, I'm totally aware that I've brought God himself into the story and I am not going to change it. The men during the Civil War were highly religious, not to mention superstitious and John is a Christian. Besides, both the Simpsons and Family Guy depict God in a few of their episodes. Complain all you like, I'm not going to listen.
