Margaret jerked awake at the sound of a distant boom.
Beside her, Colonel Chamberlain stirred a bit. Kilrain and Lieutenant were still asleep. While still a bit groggy, Margaret was immediately alert, her eyes scanning the skies. Nothing but blue as far as the eye could see.
So what could've made that sound?
BOOM!
This time, Colonel Chamberlain bolted upward followed soon by Kilrain. Lieutenant Chamberlain went on sleeping, his mouth slightly open and looking rather young.
"That's mostly in the west." Colonel Chamberlain said, still sounding as though he was still asleep. Margaret cocked her head as she listened to another resounding boom. Margaret stood, ready and alert while the other two men just sat and listened.
Kilrain also cocked his head. "I thought the Rebs were all up in at Gettysburg."
Something in Margaret's blood went cold. "You don't suppose they'll be trying to flank us, do you?"
There was one boom after another, the cannons in the distance filling the air with thunder. It was far enough that it was a slightly softer roll, but it still filled the sky with a growl that grew every so slightly.
"At Chancellorsville, they came in on the right. This time they could be on the left."
Kilrain glanced at her. His eyes, as well as his voice, held some barely controlled anger as he said, "Our goddamn generals never seem to learn."
Chamberlain shook his head, "Wait."
The men in the field behind them were stirring. Margaret watched with some interest. She found the two different groups, those who Margaret dubbed the Greens (new soldiers) and the more seasonal soldiers. The Greens stood and started pull their tents down in halves, while the more seasoned soldiers just rolled back over and tried to sleep some more. Margaret could see the wheels and gears turning in Colonel Chamberlain's mind, as though he was trying to weigh the next actions he would take.
Kilrain shifted beside her. "That's a whole division."
"How can you tell?" Margaret asked.
"You'll know when you get to be my age. Good thing their artillery isn't very good."
She smirked, about to open her mouth to give another snarky reply, something along the lines of the fact that the artillery the Confederates were using probably used to belong to the United States until something on the horizon caught her eyes. Narrowing her eyes a little bit, squinting against the harsh sun, Margaret had a cold chill run down her spine as she realized that the 'something' she spotted was getting closer and closer to their location.
She drew her pistol. "We've got a rider, incoming."
The two men beside her straightened and tensed, only to relax a bit when they realized that the person heading this way was a Union courier, who saluted when he stopped in front of them. Colonel Chamberlain saluted back.
"Colonel Vincent's compliments sire. You are instructed to form your regiment."
The courier rode off, leaving Margaret and the two men stunned. She glanced towards Colonel Chamberlain, noting that he silently, and hurriedly, buttoned up his jacket and straightened up his sword. Once finished, he smoothed his hair and turned towards the man that approached.
"Sergeant, have the regiment fall in."
When the sergeant had walked away, Colonel Chamberlain kicked Lieutenant Chamberlain's foot to stir him. The younger man groaned, licking his lips as he did before he opened his eyes.
"Lawrence? What going on? What's happening?"
"Let's go." Chamberlain said brusquely.
"Right." With the energy of a spring chicken, the lieutenant leapt to his feet. Margaret followed Colonel Chamberlain as some men instinctively formed their companies. Her heart was pounding with her steps as she side glanced at Kilrain and as a brigadier general approached, and started the call for all men to assemble, including the cooks, prisoners and sick-call people.
"I don't think I'll be able to stop this."
"If the Lord wanted ya to stop it, then you would have, dearie." Kilrain muttered.
Margaret felt her mood darken drastically, and took a deep breath. She inhaled the deep scent of the wet grass and the mud that scented the air, entering her nostrils and embedding this scene in her mind for the rest of her life. Kilrain left her side to fall in with the others. The rest of brigade had formed, while the guns thundered beyond the hill. Everyone was waiting for Colonel Chamberlain silently. There was a tenseness in the air that could be felt by all, even if some men were a little sleepy, a little on the tired side as some of them had been asleep when the courier came.
This was it….this was the last ditch effort.
For the Rebels.
For the Union.
And for the Assassin siblings.
A man approached the Colonel on a horse. He reined up, the horse kicking and neighing into the air. All eyes were on him. "Colonel, column of fours. Follow me."
The order was given and the Colonel and Margaret mounted their horses. The man on the horse, Vincent she was told by the Colonel softly, turned to them, his eyes dim.
"They're attacking the left flank. Sickles has got us in one hell of a jam."
They began to move. The terrain started out flat as green-tinted glass, and then slowly, it began to slope upwards. The Twentieth-Maine moved as one, four-abreast, moving up between rocks and through the ever-increasing cannon fire. There was a narrow road that they took, towards the high ground up ahead. Vincent spurred his horse forward, waving for Chamberlain to hurry. The firing grew even louder until it was almost deafening. A shell tore through the trees ahead, smashing a limb and even blasted a rock. Fragments spattered the air. Margaret's horse reared up nervously, letting her rider know how much she didn't like this situation right now. It took her a moment to get the mare under control, during which she missed Colonel Chamberlain glancing behind him to look at his brother.
She didn't miss the warning the man gave his brother though, something that she would tell her brother often: "Listen, another one a bit closer and it will be a hard day for Mother. You get back to the rear and watch for stragglers. Keep your distance from me."
"Right. Fine." The lieutenant touched his cap, and moved off thoughtfully.
"Smart." She commented over the loud firings.
Colonel Chamberlain gave her a small smile, ducking his head as another shell passed by overhead. "I made a promise to watch after him, and by God, I'm going to do that."
She smiled before directing her eyes to the break in the trees, where blue hills rested very far away from where they were, hazy ridges miles to the west. No, not ridges…...mountains.
They were on high ground. They had the advantage.
"That damn fool Sickles, you know him?"
"Know of him."
Another shell passed close, fifty yards to the left. It clipped a limb, ricocheted up through the leaves. Vincent glanced that way, then back and went on.
"The Bully Boy. You know the one. The politician from New York. Fella shot his wife's lover. The Barton Key affair. You've heard of it?"
"Politicians were the reason for this war." Margaret muttered while Chamberlain only nodded.
"Well, the damn fool was supposed to fall in on the left of Hancock, right there." Vincent pointed up the ridge to the right. "He should be right here, as a matter of fact, where we're standing. But he didn't like the ground."
Margaret rolled her eyes. Damn fools, all politicians.
"He didn't like the ground." Vincent said with an unamused chuckle. "So, he just up and moved his whole corps forward, hour or so ago. I saw them go. Amazing. Beautiful. Full marching line forward, as if they were going to pass in review. Moved right on out to the road down there, leaving this hill uncovered. Isn't that amazing? Politicians. Well, let's go."
They moved again, moving almost at double-time. Shells were falling up there, and shrapnel falling all around them. Margaret pulled up her hood to protect her head from the wicked sounding shrapnel as it fell on them. As they climbed, running upwards into the shade of the tree. They passed massive boulders, the stumps of newly sawed trees, splinters of shattered ones. Margaret glanced outward, and could be begin to see out across the valley: a mass of milky smoke below, along with yellow flashes. Booming thunder sounded moments following the flashes.
The Twentieth Maine paused for a moment, where Colonel Chamberlain, Margaret and Vincent gathered. Vincent pointed down the ridge, raising his voice as he said, "Whole damn Reb army hitting Sickles down there, coming up around his flank. They'll be here any minute. We've got to hold this place. This way."
He pointed and Margaret surveyed the land. It appeared that they had crossed the crown of the hill, with a brief glimpse all the way out across Pennsylvania, in a view that would've been breathtakingly beautiful if not for the feeling of death that lingered in the air and the stench of gunpowder. Beneath them, there was a line of batteries that had massed and were firing, men moving in the smoke and rocks below.
They were directed to the base of the hill, down into the dark woods. Shells passed over them exploding in the dark far away. Vincent led them down and to the left, stopping in the middle of nowhere, with rocks and small trees.
Vincent turned to Colonel Chamberlain and said, "Alright. I place you here. You'll hold here. The rest of the brigade will form on your right. Looks like you're the flank, Colonel."
Margaret saw some apprehension on the man's face, even more so heard it in his voice, when he said, "Right."
It looked like he was taking everything in. And she had to agree that it was a strange place to stand in fight, considering you couldn't see very far down. Colonel Chamberlain called in the company commanders and gave them the position. Right by file into line. Margaret's heart was pounding her chest as too much artillery was fired upon the crown. Movement to the side of the ridge caught her attention, a Confederate regiment forming along the ridge in the dark. The sun was moving behind the hill, on the other side of the mountain.
"Colonel?"
Margaret turned her attention to the two men, feeling as though history was being made and she was bearing witness.
Colonel Chamberlain acknowledged the man.
"You are the extreme left of the Union line. Do you understand that?"
"Yes." There was a brief pause of hesitation in the Colonel's voice. Margaret heard it.
"The line runs from here all the way back to Gettysburg. But it stops here. You know what that means."
"Of course."
Margaret glanced around. "I don't know. Explain for me?"
"Colonel Chamberlain cannot withdraw." Vincent stated. "Under any condition. If you go, the line is flanked. If you go, they'll go right up the hilltop and take up in the rear. You must defend this place to the last."
Margaret's heart thundered. Colonel Chamberlain nodded.
"I've got to go now." Vincent gave a smile. "Now we'll see how professors fight. I'm a Harvard man myself."
There was a moment where the artillery fire had slackened. Margaret and the Colonel handed their horse over to a private, who took the animals away somewhere, hopefully safe. The men started to dig, piling rocks to make a stone wall. The position was more than a hundred yards long, and Margaret could see the end of it, saw the Eighty-Third Pennsylvania forming on his right. The colonel called on Kilrain, ordered him to check the flank and to see that the joint between regiments was secure. The man wandered off, probably to survey the lands.
Margaret stayed where she was, watching the men move about, while mind went through a million different thoughts. Vincent's orders to Colonel Chamberlain echoed through her mind as though they were her own.
Hold to the last…. but what did that mean? To the last what? Strange….it was an exercise in rhetoric. To the last…..man? The Last shell? Last food of ground, last Reb?
She hoped that it didn't come to that.
Colonel Chamberlain returned, looking a bit frantic. He gestured for a man to come to him.
"Captain Morrill. I want you to take your company out there." The blonde man pointed to the left. "Got out a way, but stay within supporting distance. Build up a wall, dig in. I want you there in case somebody tries to flank up. If I hear you fire, I'll know the Rebs are trying to get around. Go out a good distance. I have no idea what's out there. Keep me informed."
About fifty men moved off. Artillery was coming in now, behind them. All the way down the line, in front of them, men were digging, piling rocks.
Nothing happened.
"Reminds me of the stories at Fredericksburg." Margaret commented. The colonel remained silent. "This could be a good place to fight. To the last."
Movement down below them, followed by shouting and sounds of men screaming. Her eyes went wide.
"Sounds like they're being overrun." Her heart was thundering. "There's an awful lot of people heading this way. I can feel it."
"Colonel?" A man with a bayonet gave gestured to three men. "Colonel, what about these here prisoners?"
She gave the men some time, figuring that it was something that she shouldn't be witnessed to. She turned to Kilrain, her heart suddenly growing sad and heavy. Margaret pushed the feeling away.
"How much of a chance do we have of surviving this?"
"It's all in the Lord's hands now, dearie."
There was movement, men in grey and yellow. A wave of men was climbing up the hill, dressed in tattered uniforms. Margaret glanced down at herself, noticing how defenseless she was, with on her pistol, a few rounds and her Hidden Blade. She whirled around.
"I need some ammunition."
Kilrain hefted his service weapon, grappling with his own ammo. He handed her a few rounds. "Just make sure you come out in one piece. No need for your father to come and shot me 'twixt the eyes."
"I can take care of myself." She shot back, a little too forcefully.
There was a sudden scream, a terrible sound that rattled Margaret's skull and chilled her blood. Then….they came.
And then….there was an explosion of smoke and fire.
The second day of battle had begun.