Wildmen
Copyright© 2026 by acolodude
Chapter 1: Bold Men or Wildmen
I am Deke Bold. My grandfather, Dante Bold, taught both my father, Dean Bold, and me how to live off the land, track and hunt, and kill in combat when necessary.
Grandfather was only eleven years old when the Revolutionary War began, and he fought in many of its major battles. His primary job was to scout the enemy, assess its strength, and report its positions.
Grandfather was ninety-seven when the Civil War began. My father was fifty-seven, and I was only sixteen. When the fighting became ridiculous, Grandfather decided it was time to take us out West.
Each of us carried a Hawken percussion rifle and a .50-caliber pistol, along with two .44-caliber Dragoon revolvers and a .31-caliber Baby Dragoon. We also carried a Bowie knife, a Green River skinning knife, and a hatchet that Grandfather had modified for combat.
He carved a channel along the front of the hatchet’s wooden handle. The channel was a quarter of an inch wide, half an inch thick, and extended halfway along the handle. He then hammered an iron rod into the channel and wrapped the first inch at both the top and bottom with wet deer-hide strapping. As the hide dried, it shrank tightly around the handle. Once secured, it would have to be cut off to remove it.
The modification made the handle strong enough to block a knife, hatchet, sword, or tomahawk without worrying that the wooden handle would be cut or broken.
We wore our weapons in specific positions so that each could be drawn quickly when needed.
The .50-caliber pistol was worn on our left side, slightly forward of the hip. The Baby Dragoon was carried beneath our left arm, while the Green River skinning knife was worn beneath the right arm, angled for a quick, easy draw. The Bowie knife was strapped to the outside of our left lower leg.
The hatchet hung on our right side, slightly behind the hip, with its cutting edge facing down. The two Dragoon revolvers were positioned barrel to barrel in the small of our back.
When we weren’t carrying our Hawken rifles in our hands, a leather loop went over our heads and right arms, allowing the rifles to hang with the grips near our bellies and the barrels three or four inches above the ground.
Before my first fight, I asked Grandfather why we carried our weapons that way.
He simply replied, “Think about how we have trained.”
So, I thought about my training.
At a distance, we fought with our rifles, moving after every kill. We didn’t shoot at a target; we SHOT the target.
When engaging an enemy at close range, we either moved quietly, using our Bowie knives and hatchets, or charged almost at a run with our pistols.
When using our pistols, we ran through the enemy, shooting as we passed. With one pistol and either the Bowie knife or hatchet, we could slash or hack at the closest enemy while shooting at another farther away.
Once a pistol was empty, we switched to the other. After both pistols were empty, we withdrew to a safe place to reload.
The Baby Dragoon was reserved for self-defense or a last-ditch emergency.
Grandfather explained why we carried the .50 caliber pistol in the cross-draw on our hip. The reason was that a bear might not go down after taking a single .50-caliber rifle round. If it kept coming, we might not have enough time to reload before it reached us. The pistol gave us another chance to stop the animal.
He also pointed out that if someone charged us on horseback, a .50-caliber shot might stop the horse and probably kill the rider when he was thrown.
I had participated in only three battles during the Civil War. In each instance, Grandfather, Father, and I had been sent out as scouts to locate enemy positions and movements, then report our findings.
Grandfather insisted that we work as a group of three. We were NEVER to go alone.
The three battles happened only because we were spotted. In two of them, we used our run-and-shoot tactics while fleeing the area.
The third was much closer and more personal. An enemy patrol caught us by surprise, and Father was shot in the shoulder. We used our Bowie knives and hatchets to kill our attackers quietly before escaping.