The Lone Battery
I
was ordering the cannoneers to limber up the cannons onto the mounts. I was
anxious that morning to get going. It was a beautiful day, the sun shone high up
in the sky, birds sang in the trees and the smell of success filled my nostrils.
I had never been in combat before so I was anxious to see what it was like. My
battery and I had been ordered by Major Smith to move our battery to the crest
of a large hill. Once the limbers were on their mounts we hooked up the horses
to the limbers. That took a few minutes. A sergeant in my battery by the name of
John Cooke came to greet me in the morning. "How’s it going sir?" He asked.
"Just great and I want to get going as quickly as I can" I replied. Sgt. Cooke
was a stout man, about 5'5” and quite stocky. He was the one who never worried
about anything. I admired him because he was a fearless man. He went off and
inspected the cannons while I mounted my horse. In a minute we were off. I led
the battery, six cannon, all 12 pounders. I looked ahead and saw a surgeon’s
tent along the road. As we passed they came out and wished us luck. The men
tried to act in a calm manner but I knew they were as nervous and scared as I
was. We finally reached the crest of the hill. "Unlimber!" I shouted. The men
began taking the cannons off the mounts. I took out my binoculars and looked
ahead but saw nothing. I heard shots off in the distance but saw nothing. When
the cannons were unlimbered, we just sat and watched. About 10 minutes later the
rebels appeared. I watched them go 100 or so yards out into the open field
straight ahead of us. "Open Fire!" I ordered with anticipation on my face. I
watched the first few cannonballs hit yards away from their targets. "Move to
the left 8 yards!" I ordered. The men moved the cannons. I had them open fire
again. The shots were direct hits on the enemy! I yelled "Keep firing boys!
We’re hitting em!" A cheer went up from the men. I was still watching from my
binoculars when I saw a cannonball hit right next to a man on a horse. The horse
and the man went down immediately. Then the rebs stopped and looked around as if
confused. They soon began their march forward again. We never let up our firing
though. We kept blasting them with shots. I didn’t know how they could stand it.
Then they began to run towards us. They were charging. I had the cannons aim
right at them. They got with 50 yards of the crest of the hill and I let the
cannons roar. The rebels suffered devastating casualties at close range but kept
coming. All we had for weapons were 5 pistols and 15 muskets. I had the men run
and get them while the cannons were reloaded. They got back with the weapons
just in time to let the cannons fire one last time. BOOM! went the cannons. More
casualties for the rebels. Then they overran one of my guns. I had the men with
muskets and pistols open fire on the rebels. I reared my horse and charged
forward with my pistol in hand. I fired a shot and saw that there were too many
rebels to even attempt to hold them off. I told the men to try and hold the
rebels off but it was no use. We were overrun. I ordered the men to retreat. We
had no cannons and very little weaponry. We hid in a large wooded area. I
watched the rebels with our guns for a number of hours. Then they limbered the
cannons up and left. I took my men and we went and investigated the battlefield.
I saw that we had lost 17 men killed and 4 wounded. I then went down and saw
what the rebels had for casualties. Then I remembered the horse and rider that
had been shot down. I saw the horse and I galloped to it. When I got there I saw
my father! He was still alive, but barely. I dropped the reins of my horse and
ran to his side. He saw me and all he said was "Take care of yourself boy cause
your on your own". Then he closed his eyes and let his final breath. I leaned
over and began crying. If I had known I would battle my own father I would have
disobeyed my orders and stayed back at camp. Sgt. Cooke came to me and asked
"Shall I get you some coffee sir?" "No", I said "I need to be alone with my
father for a while".
| Justin Sly is a 13 year old who loves to study and read about the Civil War. He hopes to write about the Civil War when he gets older. |