Chapter 14: The Confederate Attack
As the battle for the second day begins, we now turn to the Confederate side of the field, to General Longstreet's corps and to Zim. This chapter will be very "real" in terms of what Civil War combat was really like, so be prepared for that, readers. And to one of my readers, and anyone else now pondering Gen. Sickles' sanity and humanity: You must understand the mind of the man. Sickles was a politician, and a ruthless one at that before the war, using his position to finagle a general's commission. Secondly, he was a shameless self-promoter, and wanted the fame of "the man who won the battle/war" He despised West Pointers, and no doubt thought himself a more capable commander than Meade. As with all historical figures, he has his followers and his detractors. I for one am not a Sickles fan-boy. But I'm not here to give you a history lesson, I'm here to tell a historically accurate, semi-educational Invader Zim story. So read on and please keep reviewing!
Zim sat on his pony beside General Longstreet. The attack had finally started. Zim watched as Hood's men marched into the narrow field for the small hill that Zim understood was the key to turning the entire Union flank. He grinned triumphantly as he watched the men, with the formidable General Hood riding along the rear of the entire formation, cheering the soldiers on with a drawn sword. Nearby, General McLaws' men were also on the field, moving toward the enmy. The thousands of men looked unbeatable, and the only person that showed doubt was Longstreet, who watched the attack with a tense, uneasy expression. Zim nudged his pony into walking to where Longstreet sat.
"What is wrong, General Longstreet?" Zim asked. Longstreet looked at him solemnly and nodded. Zim looked back toward the battle when he heard a long, loud peal of gunfire from the direction of the grove of trees.
"Tell General Hood to move up quickly. He may receive enfilade fire from that grove of trees." Longstreet said to an orderly.
"Yes sir." The officer said, riding off toward Hood's division.
"And I want artillery fire on those trees." Longstreet said. Another officer rode off. Muffled explosions sounded in the distance, and cannon shells began to burst amid Hood's men. Zim heard again the horrible sound of screaming that he had heard the day before. He knew it came from men from his own side. Wounded and dying men.
Hood's soldiers were beginning to reach the maze of boulders and rocks at the base of the hill. The field was becoming smoky now, making it hard to see what was going on.
"I say…" Colonel Freemantle remarked, trotting up on his horse. "At this rate, they'll have that hill in a matter of minutes. Oh, marvelous." Longstreet said nothing.
"Take it…take it…" Zim muttered, leaning forward in his saddle anxiously, straining to see through the white smoke.
"Sir!" An orderly called, riding up. "Hood reports that his division is taking heavy fire. Robertson is getting hit hard, sir. He's having trouble pressing forward."
"Damn." Longstreet grumbled. "Tell General Hood…" At that moment, a stray shell exploded near the orderly, sending horse and rider to the ground. Several staff soldiers ran to the messenger, who was badly wounded. Longstreet looked around frantically, finally setting his gaze on Zim.
"Zim!" He barked.
"Sir!" Zim saluted instinctively.
"There's no one left. You must ride out there and find General Hood. You remember General Hood?" Zim nodded once. "Find him. Tell him to hold onto the ground at that grove of trees. We will try to use our artillery to move the enemy off that rise, but he must hold the ground there."
"Yes sir. Zim understands his orders!"
"Good. Son go. Be careful, but for God's sake go quickly!"
"I will not let you down, my general!" Zim called. He galloped onto the field, and toward the fight. "Now is my chance." He mused to himself. "Now I can prove my worth to the Confederacy!" He was approaching a small stream, and just beyond, ranks of men moved forward toward the small rise and the cluster of boulders. Many were already fighting within the jumble of trees and rocks. Further ahead to the right, men were moving up the small mountain. A shell exploded off to Zim's right. He yelped, and pulled to the left, jumping the stream and galloping on.
"General Hood!" Zim yelled over the din of battle. "General Hood!" He rode through gaps in the ranks of men, most moving forward while some limped and crawled back toward the rear with blood on their uniforms. Another shell landed near him but didn't explode. Zim was becoming terrified. Was this really war? It wasn't great. It wasn't fun. It was awful.
Up ahead, General Hood, still atop his steed, rallied men on with his sword, yelling at the top of his lungs. To Zim he looked like a musical conductor, conducting a symphony of death and destruction with a sword as his baton.
"General Hood!" Zim screamed. Hood turned as he rode up. He looked down at Zim, as if surprised he had made it this far through the devastation unhurt. "Sir…General Longstreet…"
"Yes son…what?!" Hood demanded.
"General Longstreet said to hold onto the ground at this grove of trees. He said they will try to use the artillery to drive the enemy away. He says to hold this ground."
"I understand son, but my boys are gettin' shot to pieces! Tell Longstreet I'll try to hold, but I may have to move further right!" He turned to an officer. "We have to hold this ground! Bring up Anderson now. My orders to Anderson, come up now!"
"Yes sir!" The officer replied. He ran off, holding onto the sword on his belt.
"Damn it all!" Hood bellowed. He looked back to Zim. "You have to tell Longstreet I can't…" Just then, a shell exploded close to the two. Everything went black for a moment, and Zim came to on the ground with a ringing in his head. He painfully got to his knees. His horse lay beside him, not moving.
"My pony…" Zim said mournfully. He looked around. General Hood's horse was also down.
"General…Hood?" Zim called. He crawled over to the other side of the fallen mount. "Sir!" He called out. Hood was laying on the ground, writhing in pain, clutching his left arm. Zim noticed that Hood's sleeve was soaked in blood, and blood was running out of his cuff. Zim made his way to the General. "General Hood, sir. Are you…okay, what can I do?"
"I'm…afraid I'm…I'm badly hurt…" Hood groaned.
"Help!" Zim called. "Someone, General Hood's hurt!" Two men rushed over. "We have to get him medical help." Zim said urgently. One of the men grabbed Hood's collar, and the other took his right leg in hand. Zim, despite the throbbing in his head and the pain from his fall, grabbed Hood's left leg. They lifted the moaning, wounded man, and began carrying him away from the action. Zim felt a pain in his right arm and looked down. There was a small cut in his uniform coat, and he was bleeding a little.
"Musket ball…" The man on Hood's right leg grunted as they hefted the general on. "You're alright, reckon…it just skint 'ya." They found a depression in the ground, and lay Hood down. The man that had spoke to Zim ran off, calling for a medic. Soon he returned with two men, who began working on Hood.
"You can go now." One of the medical soldiers said to Zim. "We got a litter comin' you'd best get back to yer post boy." Zim looked once more at the wounded Hood. He was still groaning agonizingly. He looked away sadly, then saluted Hood respectfully, and began running back to Longstreet. Explosions still blasted around him, and the occasional bullet whizzed by, but Zim tried to block it out. He tried to block it all out as he ran. He just wanted to be back in the safety of the trees with General Longstreet. Far away from the death, from the noise. From the blood.
Soon, he found himself running into the tree-line. He looked around, and saw the men on horseback down the path, and ran toward them. The men all wheeled their horses around and watched, eyes wide, as he approached. He made it to Longstreet, and weakly saluted. He was unaware of the fact that tears were falling from his eyes, and blood was running down the arm of his jacket.
"S…sir…" He gasped, his lungs hurting almost as bad as his arm and his side. "General Hood is…he's hurt. Bad, I think. He said that…" Zim panted a moment and sniffled. "His boys are getting shot to pieces, but he will try to hold." Longstreet looked down at him with concern.
"Zim…are you injured, son?"
"No…I..don't know…" Zim replied. "It was horrible over there!" He cried.
"I know." Longstreet said gravely. Zim fell to the ground, and sat in the dust. He looked at his hands. Freemantle stared, his mouth agape.
"I…I helped carry General Hood…he was…it…they killed my horse…"
Longstreet waved a soldier over. The man took Zim by the shoulders and helped him up.
"He needs to be taken back to headquarters." Longstreet said. "See about his wound, and…make sure General Lee knows about the brave deeds he did today."
"Yes sir." The soldier replied. He helped Zim to a horse. They climbed on, and began riding back toward town.
Now if that doesn't paint a fairly accurate portrait of "the Civil War in all its blood and guts in spades" as Longstreet phrased it, I don't know what does. It looks like Zim finally understands what combat is all about, eh? What will become of Longstreet's attack? What about Tak and Dib on the other side of the assault? The next chapters will tell. Until then, please keep reviewing! Cheerio.