Chapter 5

It was a morning like any other except there was a sense of tension in the air.

I could not help but notice the lower ranking officers were scurrying around like restless ants fussing about this or that but all obviously restless with the knowledge that in a matter of hours we would all be engaged on the field of battle with death at our shoulders like some great black bird from the depths of hell.

In a way, I found it all too familiar after a long career in the military service in a far future world but it was fascinating none the less.

The dismounted Infantry was finished with their breakfast and had already lined up near the line of departure with some sort of eager urge to be the first ones on the battlefield. I was curious at their attitude but I put it down to their wanting to get the fighting out of the way so they could be reunited with their beloved mounts and ready to move on to the next campground and start the process all over again. At least, those of them that was still in a combat-ready condition. My memory of the fighting of that period was certainly not extensive but I did remember that the usual casualties on a major engagement were in the thirty percent range and that meant almost one out of three of us would not be rushing on to the next battle after all was said and done.

We could all hear sporadic gunfire from the West and I assumed that was the direction of the movement to contact with the enemy. I imagined that the distance between the two forces was certainly less than two thousand meters and dropping with each passing moment. I was surprised that the artillery was not already engaged but the artillerymen were all relaxed and still eating their morning meals and drinking coffee like they were out on a picnic. Most of the pieces were of the short range category and would start to fire as soon as the enemy position was confirmed as stationary and within range. It was a far cry from the long range dueling between artillery batteries and counter batteries of modern day warfare. I thought about how the artillery became the key element of victory by the North Vietnamese over the French at Dien Bien Phu and that the Chinese guns dominated the valley below with complete coverage of all defensive positions. The fact that they were even present in the mountains surrounding the outpost was a shock to the high ranking French officers who had been assured by their Intelligence Section that such a development was completely out of the question because of simple logistics. They protested vehemently that it was "Simply impossible!"

I watched the batteries start to pack up and get ready to move to positions overlooking the battlefield. It surprised me that they would be so close to the action because their value would seem to be in a more protected area in the rear lines far away from the battlefield. Apparently, the gun Captains still liked to use the more direct line of sight methods employed back in the Napoleonic Wars with great success. It was more probable they had not been able to master the art of indirect fire that would insure the safety of the batteries providing their position was not known to the enemy. Then again, it might have been the best solution to employing the canon because the thick smoke from indiscriminate firing was already partially obscuring the huge battlefield making it difficult to pick out targets at even short distances of five hundred meters.

Of course, five hundred meters was a bit too far for accurate shooting by most of the Union forces and even a fair number of the rifle savvy Rebels preferred much closer ranges for picking out targets. After test firing the Spencer, I had decided it was quite accurate out to about three hundred meters but had the advantage of holding seven rounds ready to fire without reloading and that was a major benefit in close in fighting. There were quite a few snipers on both sides armed with excellent older long guns that were accurate out almost to one thousand meters. Those snipers were slow and cunning and knew enough to pick their targets carefully. I made a point of keeping my head whenever there was sniper fire in the area.

I had been wondering what the Company of black soldiers were doing sitting at the side of the compound just waiting for their orders that were slow in being delivered. They all mustered on the road and shortly after he saw them riding and leading the dismounted Infantry mounts to the rear areas to get away from the danger of being accidently caught in a cross fire of artillery from either side in the chaos of the battle. It was strange to see the white Infantry soldiers lining up and marching into the wall of smoke with the unknown on the other side and the black uniformed soldiers leading the horses to safety.

The clear sounds of bugles mustering men and the drums of unseen drummers came out of the mist like ghosts of a bygone era and I wondered if it were all a dream and I would soon wake up and see that I was still in my future home.

I looked left and right and saw men and boys just like me lined up and with weapons at the ready. Our artillery started firing right about then but I couldn't see what they were firing at the smoke was so thick. I heard the sounds of screaming from nearby and knew it was probably one of my lines of fighters moving into position to attack the Rebel front line. The men were all shouting and yelling promises of what they would do to the Johnny Rebs if they caught them in their sights. Most of the men had their bayonets fixed but I think they realized it was futile in the scheme of things to think a knife on the end of their rifle would make any difference at all.