He had stolen across the Potomac River in Shepherdstown, a maneuver to avoid the Union garrison at Harper's Ferry. Abe had come this way before, but now the mission was urgent. Jubal Early needed his eyes here on the Yankee's back door.

The river was shallow and a man could wade through the fast running water, but it was also dark. The Yankees in Harpers Ferry certainly sent out patrols, and with all the activity in the past few months they might have strung out pickets, but he hoped they didn't. Abe was still scared, even if he did have some experience doing this.

Private Abraham Wheelwright, Class of '67, Virginia Military Institute…or where he should have been if it wasn't for those damn Yankees. But the war had raged for three years now and Abe had grown up knowing all about the fight, even if his mother had said he was too young to go.

His father had gone off to the war in '61, leaving the family farm in Jess's hands. Abe's brother was only sixteen at the time and he left out the following year. They had heard nothing from either of them since. But he had driven his mother into town every Sunday and prayed for their safety.

Quicksburg was just a small community situated in a loop of the Shenandoah River, a farm town that had seen its share of troop movements over the years. Abe remembered seeing General Breckinridge himself heading up the valley; it was a sight to behold. But that was two years ago, a lot had happened since then.

His Uncle Benjamin had been instrumental in getting Abe installed in the new class at the military institute. The Virginia Military Institute had such prestige, General 'Stonewall' Jackson had taught there. But Abe was just one of 'The Rats,' an underclassman in a sea of gray uniforms.

He studied his subjects hard and accepted the discipline with an eye to the future. All the cadets talked about was the war, wondering when they would get into it. And then they did.

The rains that spring had tapered off around the first of May, but everyone knew they would be back. The year was eighteen and sixty-four, Abe had turned sixteen the previous summer. The corps was the largest it had ever been, and yet some had been siphoned off to train the undisciplined troops on the eastern battlefields. Whispers abounded but the officer corps suppressed the wild unsubstantiated rumors until even they wondered what would happen next.

They were assembled on the parade field in front of the Arsenal to hear the Commandant of Cadets speak. Lt. Colonel Ship was waiting as they assembled in ranks, and Superintendant Smith stood beside him. The cadets stood tall as the twenty-four year old Ship strode to the fore and looked out on their ranks. He was one of them, these were his men.

"I have here a message from the Army of Northern Virginia, General John Breckinridge commanding: 'Sir, I call upon you to provide what troops you have on hand to support the campaign that will shortly commence. The Union Army has entered the valley and threatens the flank of our efforts to the east; General Lee needs your help. We expect to meet the enemy in the vicinity of New Market where we are preparing a defense. I will do my best to assure that your cadets will be held in reserve, but their presence may turn the tide in a decisive battle…'"

The Colonel paused and folded the message before assuming the position of attention.

"Destiny calls upon us once again, Gentlemen…and we shall answer. Company commanders will meet in the officer's dining room immediately. Each of you will be prepared to march at first light. Go write your family and say your prayers, for tomorrow we shall seek out the enemy."

With the parade dismissed each company marched back to barracks. Four companies of infantry and one of artillery, just over two hundred and fifty cadets. Abe was trembling in his boots, they were going to war. A dozen times in the past three years cadets had been called out to support the ranks of the Confederate Army, but somehow this was different. This would be the first time Abe went along.

His mother was sure he'd be safe at the institute, boys didn't fight wars. Abe knew better, he'd known this day would come. So many of his friends had run off to the army…boys thirteen and fourteen years old. Boys barely taller than the muskets they carried. The Confederate States turned a blind eye to their age; there was always room for someone who was willing to fight. Two arms, two legs and half a brain was the common joke. A keen eye down the sights of a musket barrel was the only requirement.

The barracks had been a firestorm of discussion and argument about the war. Many sons of the privileged few went to school here; there was no lack of emotion in their talk. But Abe was a farm boy, a fact he tried to conceal to no avail. Having an uncle with important contacts in government had been his way in, but he was on his own when it came to staying there.

Most of them retired to their beds and shed the parade uniforms. It would be a warm, wet march north, could be a hundred miles someone said. Abe checked his equipment and saw many of the others doing the same thing. Their First Sergeant entered the barracks; Billy Cabell was a born leader and was facing his final year as a cadet.

Cabell ran Company 'D' and not even the officers stood in his way. His family in Richmond often sent him sweets which he graciously shared amongst his boys. But then he was just as likely to drop a handful of demerits on a defaulter and put them on sentry duty at midnight. No one would ever mistake Cabell for a babysitter, least of all Abe.

Tonight Sergeant Billy moved down the row of beds, stopping to talk with his boys, listening to their questions. His presence brought about a most welcome calm; he was their older brother in arms. He stopped beside Abe's bed, watching the boy apply another layer of oil to his boots.

"You have the right idea," Billy said. "But then you're off the farm, you know what a muddy mess plowed fields can be."

"Yes, Sergeant ... I've plowed a few myself."

Billy smiled. "Be sure and bring all the extra socks you can, going be a long wet road the next few days." And then he moved on.

Abe knew they would march out in style; the corps had an image to maintain. He looked over at Charlie and watched the boy sharpen his bayonet with a stone. He managed a smile once he saw Abe watching.

"I might get to use this thing so it better be sharp," Charlie said.

"If the Yankees get that close then we'll be in a heap of trouble," Abe replied.

"Oh, I already think we're standing knee deep in trouble. I just hope the officers ride their ponies on the sides of the road otherwise we'll be marching in something else besides mud."

He was referring to the officers of Company 'A' and their ignorance. They had marched through Lexington the month before with their boys, just out showing the flag. But the officers had ridden in the middle of the road and by the time they got to Main Street the boots of their cadets were covered in horseshit. Colonel Ship was not amused.

Charlie was one of the first boys Abe had befriended when he arrived, and they had shared the misery of underclass life. The Institute was spit and polish, marching and drilling until their legs collapsed. But they were fed well and the barracks was heated in winter.

The Confederacy was filled with shortages of basic essentials and that soon became apparent in the packages they got from home. The Yankees blockaded the harbors, and supply lines were disrupted by troops of marauding raiders from the north. And from all this the State of Virginia had suffered most since all of the major battles had been fought within her boundaries.

Now the Yankees were determined to make another push into the Shenandoah Valley. It would allow them to turn and attack General Lee from the flank; they could not be allowed to do that. Abe had no idea just what two hundred and fifty boys could contribute, but they would do what they were told.

Each boy moved slowly about their tasks, talk was confined to quiet conversation. Charlie finished with his bayonet and slid it back in the scabbard.

"Guess we won't be going in town this weekend," He said. "So much for courting the ladies."

Abe smiled. "You'll make a bigger impression after they pin that medal on your chest for bravery."

"There is that to consider," Charlie laughed.

The barracks settled down, but no one slept…not for a long time. They faced days of slogging down muddy roads to reach New Market. The last time Abe had been that way was on his way home for Christmas, it would be different now.

He worried about his mother; the Yankees would pass by Quicksburg on the way south. The Marsh plantation house ten miles the other side of town had been burned the year before, but they had owned slaves. Of the boys around him Abe knew many of their families kept Negros as well, his father had not.

The whole argument about slavery had started this war Abe figured, at least that's what his uncle had said. They were property and had been since the colonies were founded, now the Yankees wanted to change all that. Abe didn't see he had much to say about it, only wealthy land owners could afford to have slaves. But he understood how hard they must toil; even a small farm was backbreaking work.

The barracks became silent and Abe could hear the rain begin again. Eighty some miles away lay their destiny, some would not return. If God had it in mind to protect him Abe knew he would fight hard, it couldn't be done any other way. He would fight beside his friends and pray for victory. Now he prayed for his mother's safety and his father and brother to return.

The drum roll awakened them all at the same instant and the barracks came alive.

"Feet on the floor," Sergeant Cabell yelled from the doorway. "I want to see motion, and I don't mean in your pants." There were snickers around the room in response, but they were all on their feet.

"Lord, Pickens…your cock will get to the battle an hour before the company arrives," Charlie joked. Pickens groaned and tried to hide his erection.

There was nothing mean about Charlie's comment; boys had erections all the time. The tight gray uniform pants tended to rub the crotch; it was a great inspiration for the occasional stiff one. A boy's body could be a source of embarrassment; Abe was quite familiar with that.

Bathing was sincerely encouraged since a clean boy didn't develop heat rash or tender feet. The baths were not private enough for any personal exploration, which was reserved for the toilets. Abe was no different than the others, but when he had the need he did it quietly in bed or took a walk down to the river.

He was proud of the way his body appeared stronger than many of his comrades. Walking a plow and baling hay had given him a definite advantage. The life of a 'Rat' was very physical, the upperclassmen saw to that. Abe was working on his third pair of boots since donning the uniform.

The boys all dressed and stuffed their haversacks with all the extras they might need. Abe only hoped the supply wagon didn't get lost in the shuffle; he would need those extra socks. In fifteen minutes they were presentable and piled out the door loaded down with everything they could carry.

The bags were piled outside under shelter until the baggage wagons came. Now they were formed up and marched to the mess hall for what might be their last hot meal for days. Grits and eggs, bread and butter, the food shortage was not apparent here. Each boy would carry a canteen, cup and mess kit along with his rifle.

The matter of arms had become a bone of contention between the companies. For ten years the cadets had trained and fought with a short, smooth bore musket that was designed for parades and not war. And then just a few months before, Richmond had forwarded two hundred Austrian made weapons, rifled muskets, a real soldier's tool.

There weren't enough to equip all four companies and so those designated as rear guards for the baggage train still carried the 'cadet muskets.' Abe liked his new rifle, even though it was heavier. Between rifle, cartridge box and bed roll, each cadet had a tiring weight of equipment to carry. It would all get heavier as it got wet.

The cadets sat upright and silent until the Commandant entered and then they all stood to attention for the blessing. No sermon this morning, a few words of thanks and they were ordered to sit and eat. Abe could see that some cadets at his table didn't look hungry; a nervous stomach would do that to a growing boy.

Charlie sat across from him and they tucked away the food in silence. There was something about Charlie that Abe sincerely liked. The boy was always there to offer a hand when needed even though Abe was the better student. On the march they would share tent space unless the wagons got lost, and then it would be a long miserable night.

Last fall they had shared a moment together unlike anything Abe had ever experienced. Like many of the boys they had slipped into the Arsenal and appropriated two of the muskets for a little hunting expedition. Back home it was deer hunting season, the animals at their fattest with the upcoming winter ahead.

They had walked for miles along the Maury River without seeing anything. Charlie had bread and a small cheese, having splurged in town for their lunch. Abe knew he came from a wealthy Richmond family, but he never acted like something special. They decided that shooting a deer this far from the campus and having to carry it back didn't appeal to either of them, besides all their talk was sure to scare off any game.

"You ever?" Charlie finally asked after a long discourse on the fairer sex.

Abe shook his head. "I never kissed a girl much less…well, anything else."

"Kissing is good, stokes the fire. Yeah, well I never did much of that except with Jenny Mills. It was either talk or walk, but mostly after church with her momma right behind. I went to her birthday party once and she kissed me in the kitchen in front of the cook, but that was it."

Charlie sighed. "Suppose you could put everything I know about sex on the head of a pin."

"I've seen goats do it," Abe said. "Cows too."

Charlie laughed. "Ah, the educational life of a farm boy…did it excite you?"

Abe blushed and then nodded. "I was twelve, what do you think?"

"Twelve, I spent that whole year with my hand in my pants…guess things don't change much, I've just become better at it," Charlie said, shaking his fist over his crotch to signal the activity.

"My brother says guys never stop doin that for their whole life, even after they get married."

"I can see that," Charlie said. "It's the ultimate personal pleasure…and now my cock is so hard it's gonna break off, see any goats around?"

Abe laughed. "I wouldn't do it with a goat, that's disgusting."

"Well I need to do it now, Abe…how do you feel about that?" Charlie asked.

"You mean now…as in here?"

"Care to join me? You might learn something."

Charlie was hard, Abe could see the swelling quite clearly and his own body reacted. But the boy wasn't going to wait for an answer; he found a fallen tree and sat down where the bark had peeled away to open his pants. Abe looked around and could think of no place to go while Charlie did it, so he sat down.

He'd seen Charlie and the rest of the boys while bathing, but he'd never seen Charlie quite like this. The pants slid off and the underwear was pulled down revealing the source of the boy's need. Abe gave it a glance and then looked away.

"Aww, come on…you need this as bad as I do," Charlie said.

That was true, but Abe couldn't say why. Another look around and Abe unfastened the buttons on his pants. They shared looks and then did a quick survey of the competition.

"You have a fat one," Charlie said, "A real handful."

"You might be longer, better to plumb the depths of the hole," Abe chuckled.

"Yeah…soon as I find such a thing."

Charlie was rubbing himself pretty much the same way Abe did it. "I guess everyone does it the same way," Abe said.

"Pretty much, long as it feels good," Charlie said. But Abe saw Charlie had more foreskin and rubbed himself with short quick jerks. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off what the boy was doing.

"You work it harder than I do," Abe said. "I like it slow."

Charlie laughed. "I got three sisters and two brothers; there was never any time for goin slow if I had to get the job done."

Suddenly he stopped and smiled. Looking Abe straight in the eye Charlie reached over and grasped Abe's cock. He started with the short quick jerks and Abe suddenly stiffened. He looked down at that hand working his piece…Oh Lord, this was different…better even…and then Charlie stopped.

"So did that feel better?" He asked.

"Different, it was all good," Abe said.

"Show me how you do it," Charlie said, and Abe knew he had to.

His hand tentatively surrounded Charlie's cock and pushed the foreskin up and down.

"Oh ... oh damn, that's gonna drive me crazy," Charlie groaned, but he did nothing to stop it. Abe could see the boy's body tense up and relax; it felt like Charlie was thrusting up into his hand. It felt good to be able to please the boy like this.

"Good ... my turn again," Charlie said. Abe was ready this time and braced his hands on the log. Yes, this was wonderful and he groaned ... then Charlie stopped again.

"Let's do it together to the end," Charlie said. "Take off your pants."

Abe was mesmerized by now, whatever Charlie said was good. They shucked their boots and pants and then sat facing one another on the tree trunk, only now their knees were touching. Charlie leaned forward and put his forehead on Abe's shoulder as his hand grasped flesh once again, Abe followed suit.

Yes, this was better, and the stroking resumed. Abe could smell the sheen of sweat on Charlie's skin, the odor quite pleasing. But he could also look down and see both cocks being rubbed and that was exciting. The sound of Charlie's breathing became harsher, he was feeling it.

Abe knew once he began to feel that special tickle deep inside that things were about to happen. Charlie moaned in his ear and Abe figured that meant the boy was getting there too. His cock felt extremely swollen, Charlie's hand was working magic…ahh, and there it was.

"Oh…ahh," Abe said as he felt the pressure rise up inside.

"Yeah…me too," Charlie gasped. "Oh Lord…here I go."

And Abe felt the boy's cock throb in his hand as he watched the head flare and release a gush of creamy fluid. That did it; he cut loose as well, covering Charlie's hand with juice. Both hands slowed down and then stopped. They were panting from the exertion and neither of them moved.

Abe could see the pool of sperm laden fluid on the tree between them. But their hands were covered in the essence of life that still bubbled out in dribs and drabs.

"Oh ... thank you, Abe ... that was almost like real sex, if I knew what sex really was I mean." There was silence and then Charlie began to laugh and Abe joined in. Yeah, neither of them knew the first thing about real sex, but they had come close.

Abe sat up and Charlie looked up at him before glancing down at the shared pool they had created. "You know about blood brothers…right?" Charlie asked. "This is beyond that…this is closer."

Abe nodded, he understood the meaning and then he watched in awe as Charlie licked the cream from his hand…Abe's cream. It had to be done and Abe tasted Charlie's juice, it was much like his own. Their eyes met as they licked away the remains, they were brothers under the skin.

Nothing like that moment had presented itself again, and to Abe that was disappointing. He wondered if Charlie finally found the idea repulsive. Maybe he felt that what they had done was somehow wrong. But nothing was ever said, it just was. Tonight they would sleep together, in a figurative kind of way, maybe something would happen?

From the mess hall they marched to the Armory to receive their weapons and cartridges, a full load of ammunition this time, fifteen rounds. Each of them had been trained how to load and fire, some were faster than others. The training had often seemed cruel.

Ten man squads were lined up behind a cannon and told to load and fire on command. The objective was thirty yards away and the first salvo met the target dead on. The command to reload was given and cartridges were opened just as the cannon fired. That's when the yelling started.

"Don't spill your powder." "Jenkins you dropped your ball." "Pickup that ramrod." And then the cannon went off again. "By the rank…fire." And three of the five muskets in the first row went off. "By the rank…fire." And the second row got off four shots, and then the yelling really started.

The nerve shattering crash of the cannon took away the senses, but they were told to get used to it. They drilled under all kinds of conditions and the only caution they received each time was to keep their powder dry. Battle was anything but a quiet engagement, no one mentioned the smells.

Abe stood at attention in the Company 'D' ranks and stared at the back of the head in front of him. This was the moment he wanted to carry with him over the coming days. The clouds parting and the sun shining down on their backs. God was on their side.

The drums began to beat and the color guard brought the flags out of the Armory to stand at the front. The corps snapped out a salute, muskets slapped by hands filled the parade ground. And then a moment of silence as the Commandant stepped to the front.

"Shoulder arms," the command, and the corps moved as one. The moment made Abe swallow hard as he was reminded this could be the last time he ever saw the Institute.

"Company…left face," Cabell called out and they all turned. "Forward…march." And fifty left feet stepped forward. The drum's cadence kept them moving as the other companies joined the line. Company 'D' had won the honor of leading off based on points.

Now there were four drummers beating the same marching cadence as they approached the edge of the parade ground. Here stood the Superintendant and the entire faculty; the cadets would pass in review. Abe caught the flash of swords as the officers saluted, and then they were through the gates.

There was a sound ahead and it took a minute for Abe to figure it out, it was the sound of voices cheering. The citizens of Lexington had turned out this fine morning to see them off and the cadets gave them a fine showing as they reached Main Street.

And here the crowd was larger and the band from Washington University played 'Dixie.' The noise echoed off the buildings and yet Abe heard only the solid thud of the drums counting off the cadence as they marched.

The tension of the morning eased as they crossed the bridge over the Maury River and the Commandant called a halt. Sergeant Cabell put them at ease and then walked along the ranks telling them what a great display they had made for the town. Now they could resume the march after a five minute break and they were dismissed from ranks. A lot of the boys headed for the verge of the road for some relief.

They marched all morning with rifles slung from their shoulders, but walked is a better term for their movement. Without a drum to beat cadence the boys stayed in columns and covered the miles. Abe learned that the wagon train was up ahead and not behind them, that was a good sign. Cabell spread the word that they would not break for lunch; instead they would be given rations to eat as they moved.

The artillery company was to the rear of the formation, six cannon pulled behind caissons that dug ruts in the soft spots on the road. Abe had watched the artillery drill, those cadets knew their tools of war. If they engaged the Yankees that skill might be the one thing that saved them.

Charlie had moved back in the line until he walked beside Abe. "What ya thinking," He asked.

"Lots of things. Mostly wondering if we'll get a tent for the night or a hot supper."

"Yeah, we are spoiled. Did you know that guys in the regular army eat rats?" Charlie asked.

"No…I couldn't do that," Abe replied.

"I heard it was true. Wonder what they'll pass out for lunch?"

"Hardtack…at least you can soften that in a cup of water," Abe said, and then he chuckled. "Wonder what kind of gravy you get from a rat?"

"That's not even funny," Charlie said. "You think the Yankees eat regular?"

"Probably roast beef every night. If they came down the valley they certainly helped themselves to our herd of cows," Abe said.

"You worried about your farm?"

"Some, Momma won't stay there if the Yankees come. If we're supposed to meet up with them in New Market they'll have gone past our place. Wonder how many there will be?" Abe said.

"I know they have more soldiers than us, we just fight better," Charlie said.

"They have better rifles, I know that much."

"Yeah, but it's hard to shoot at someone when you're running away, and that's all they've been doing," Charlie said. "Maybe I can pick up one of those Enfield rifles from a dead Yankee?"

"I think we're gonna be too busy to look for souvenirs, Charlie."

Lunch was a hardtack biscuit. Abe's mother had made something like this from cornmeal. Winters in the valley were unpredictable and if they got snowed in they might need something to eat. His momma was like that, always prepared for the worst. Abe just hoped that was still true.

He wasn't the only boy with family in the Shenandoah Valley, he was sure all of them were aware that the battle ahead was meant to drive the Yankees back north. That was the problem with marching; it gave a body too much time to think.

The baggage train and the kitchens awaited them as they marched into the temporary camp set up beside the road. Sergeant Cabell sent his corporals to pull tents off the wagons and assigned squads to set them up. Six men to a tent, it would be crowded and Abe would find no time to be alone with Charlie.

A hot meal consisted of beans and cornbread, and then as the sun faded many of the cadets were falling asleep by the fires that lined the road. Abe saw a couple of riders pass them on the road and head for the headquarters tent. The officers gathered around the Commandant in his tent to discuss what the scouts had seen ahead.

All day there had only been a few wagons heading south, families with their belongings headed for safety. It was the only sign Abe saw that the Yankees were on the move towards them. He rolled up in his blanket, ignoring the smell of damp socks and flatulence caused by the beans.

They awoke to rain showers and puddles of mud in the road; it would be the same the next day and the next. Abe and all the others wore their cartridge boxes under the oilskin rain gear, rifles slung barrel down over their shoulders. From what Cabell said they would have time to dry out their weapons, but no one wanted to feel the frustration and shame of a misfire because their powder was wet.

They camped one last time on the fourteenth of May, within an hour's march of New Market. A captain from General Early's force rode into camp with a small escort and the boys all stared in awe as he dismounted and saluted the Commandant. The two privates remained in the saddle knowing they wouldn't be here long.

But some of the boys gathered around and asked questions about what lay ahead, the talkative army men answered. The word soon spread, the Yankees had entrenched in New Market, they would do battle tomorrow.

General Early had six thousand troops; the Yankees were estimated to have twice as many. But the order of battle would hold the VMI cadets in reserve at the rear.

"One Reb equals ten Yankees…we'll run 'em over," Charlie bragged.

Abe wasn't so sure. Cabell was called to the command tent along with the other sergeants, and the captain rode off with his escort. The beans had a little pork in it tonight, but the cornbread was slightly burnt. By now they knew to eat ravenously, their bodies were tired, they needed the nourishment.

Cabell visited the squad fires telling them that they would be up and out of there in the morning. The camp would remain, their haversacks would be returned to the wagons. The sergeant was excited, and Abe could sense the change in the cadets around him. Some sat around the fires until another passing shower drove them into the tents. Sleep was elusive but Abe lay in the darkness next to Charlie and wondered if they would be brave in the face of Yankee artillery and bullets.

A fitful sleep gave Abe some rest, but then the drums shook the cobwebs from his brain just before dawn. They were five miles from New Market; they had a brisk march ahead. No fires this morning, the cadets were on the move.

Corporals circulated, checking gear, making sure nothing was left behind as they formed ranks. The Commandant sat astride his horse and led the colors to the front. The Institute flag and the Confederate Battle Flag snapped out in the morning breeze. Abe looked up, knowing it would rain again soon.

"Column right…March," Cabell yelled, and they were bound for glory.

They came upon the rear guard of the Army of Northern Virginia almost right away. A cluster of wagons, hospital tents and kitchens filled the fields beside the road. Battle hardened men who stopped to stare at these young boys in their clean gray uniforms. And then the cadets all stood up straighter as the men cheered them, it was so unexpected.

Company 'D' was still at the front as they passed through a wooded area and came out at the bottom of a long undulating field. Abe could see a captain ride up and speak to the Commandant pointing towards the left side of the road. The sudden boom of artillery swept across the field as they were ordered into column left.

'D' Company left the road and proceeded a few hundred yards into the field before they were halted. Companies 'C, B, and A' marched past them and they all formed a line facing north. Abe watched the artillery company ride on up the road towards the sound of cannon fire, and the rains began.

Commensurate with the rain was the distant sound of rifle fire and further artillery rounds. Smoke rose in the distance and seemed to become part of the cloud cover. Abe could see the nervous glances of the other cadets around him; no one knew what was happening.

Over to their right were buildings Abe identified as part of New Market, he tried to remember what lay beyond.

"What's up there?" Charlie asked. They were standing at ease, the non-coms out ahead just staring off at the battle.

"I think there's a farm up there, I saw it from the road when I came down to school," Abe replied.

"Bushong's farm," One of the other cadets said. "I used to live here."

"Lord, then they're right in the middle of the battlefield, hope they got out," Charlie said.

It wasn't long before the wounded started to trickle back from the front, and then from the road the sound of horses as a group of officers approached. The cadets all stood up straight as the uniforms came in view.

"Oh Lordy me," Charlie said. "That's General Breckinridge."

Company 'D' was all but at attention now as the Commandant rode up to meet the General. Their voices carried but a little way above the din of cannons in the distance. The Commandant snapped off a salute which was returned, and they spoke for a few minutes. The General gazed out at the cadets as they spoke, nodding his head.

Breckinridge turned his horse towards the cadets and stood up in his stirrups.

"Gentlemen, I trust I will not need your services today; but if I do, I know you will do your duty." He shouted, and then he turned back towards the road and rode up towards the battlefront.

"At Ease," Cabell yelled.

The firing in the distance increased and Abe was sure the cannon fire was coming from part of the town, which would be the Yankees. And then over the crest of the hill Abe saw men coming towards them streaming towards the road.

"What the hell…are they retreating?" Charlie asked.

The soldiers falling back were hardened veterans, and Abe felt a shudder of fear. But they had no time to think about it as Cabell ordered them to load their rifles. Abe's hand slid under his oilskin and pulled a cartridge from his box. He bit off the end and kept the powder charge close to his chest as he turned his rifle over.

He could see his fingers trembling as he poured the charge down the barrel and stuffed the paper wad and ball in behind it. He almost dropped the ramrod, but managed to tamp the load home. The rifle took a percussion cap which he shoved in place, now he had to keep a hand over the firing mechanism to keep water out. The whole process took him thirty seconds, about his best average.

Soon the entire company was standing at port arms, hands in place to keep things dry. And that's when a captain rode up and pointed, they were being ordered to the front.

"Form your firing ranks," Cabell yelled and they shifted into two rows, twenty-five cadets per rank. "Forward march."

The sound as they crested the hillock increased tenfold. The artillery rounds could now be seen bursting in great clouds of soil, smoke and flame. But what riveted Abe's focus was the field of battle, for up the slope past a group of buildings he could see the enemy.

The Commandant rode up between the companies and dismounted, joining his captain and lieutenants in front. The flags were there too, always advancing towards the farm. The company shifted right to avoid the obstacles. 'A and B' to the left, 'C and D' to the right, skirting the farm house and forming back up in the orchard behind it.

Abe could see thru the sparse growth of trees that a split rail fence barred the way and beyond it stood elements of the Union troops. Artillery rounds burst in the orchard and there was a new sound, the zing of musket balls as they flew past. It was now apparent why they had been called forward. The only elements of the Confederate army were far to the left and right, there was a damn big hole right here in the middle.

An explosion to Abe's left and he felt soil rain down on them. He didn't dare look, but that had to have killed some in the ranks. The Commandant turned back towards them and Abe could barely hear the shout. "Fix bayonets," Ship yelled.

"We're goin in," Charlie yelled as his bayonet locked in place.

"Forward," Cabell yelled, and the lines began to move.

The next fifteen minutes felt like hours, and Abe would feel the horror of it all for the rest of his life. But at that very moment all he could think of was the mass they presented to the Yankee infantry out beyond that fence. The Commandant was the first to reach it and he swung himself over just as a cannon ball exploded close by. When the smoke cleared Abe thought he must be dead, and so did all the cadets.

A roar went up from the cadets and they charged the fence line. The whiz of musket balls was heavier now, the Yankees had their range. Abe hopped the fence and saw several cadets go down, but Charlie was still with him. The Institute flag made it over the fence and Cabell led the way.

Out across the field Abe saw a line of blue advancing towards them, the Yankees were charging. "Ranks," Cabell yelled and the cadets formed up. "Forward…fire," Came the command and the sound of a hundred muskets spilt the air. Abe managed only a quick look before he retreated behind the rear rank to reload. Dozens of Yankees had fallen in a hail of musket balls.

The rain was at his back now as Abe reloaded to the crash of the second rank firing, he snapped in a percussion cap and stood forward. "Fire," Cabell yelled and the rifles went off yet again. Abe felt a tug at the knee of his pants and glanced down at the rip caused by a musket ball.

Damn, they almost got me, he thought. Shoot, reload, Abe must have done it half a dozen times before he heard the cheering. Looking up as he rammed the load home he saw the Yankees retreating. But they were at the edge of the plowed field now and Abe knew what was coming.

"Watch your step," He yelled, and turned to tell Charlie they were headed into mud. Charlie wasn't there. "Forward," Came the command. Where was Charlie? The line moved with Cabell in the lead and then he went down. Abe seemed to be viewing all this from a great distance, his only thought was that Charlie had been hit.

The Union line was moving back, their charge was broken. Abe could hear the cheers as the whole Confederate line moved forward, but the cadets were in the lead. The mud sucked at his boots and Abe was worried about losing them. But he had double laced them this morning, the smart thing to do. He began to see other cadets in bare feet, their shoes sucked right off their feet.

Abe saw the Yankee cannon ahead, but they were abandoned. They had routed the enemy, and then a bite as a musket ball struck his upper arm. Damn, he'd been hit, but it didn't feel bad. Abe was mad now, and fired at a Yankee a hundred yards away just heading into the trees. The man threw his arms out, struck square in the back, and he went down.

Abe stopped to reload and saw Cadet Evans with the Institute flag mount the cannon and wave it boldly. The cadets cheered at the sight, all but Abe, he reloaded fast…there were Yankees to kill. He looked for another target but the blue uniforms were deep in the trees now, out of range.

Colonel Ship appeared, a bloody bandage held to the side of his head. Captain Wise spoke to him and then yelled for the cadets to halt. The Confederate army continued to pursue the Yankees, but the battle was over for the cadets.

Abe slumped to the ground and began to scrape the mud off his boots. Once again the sound of horses and General Breckinridge appeared. He doffed his hat to the cadets and yelled "Well done." Then he followed his troops.

Sergeant Stone wandered among the cadets of Company 'D' and Abe stood up.

"Sergeant…what about the wounded?"

"I need to organize a party…you volunteering?" Stone asked.

"Yes, Sergeant ... I saw Billy go down."

Stone nodded and then wiped his eyes. "He's dead, Wheelwright. I think we lost three or four."

"I'll go look, Sergeant," Abe said.

"Thank you," Stone said, and he turned away.

Abe walked back through the mud towards the fence line in the distance. Lord, had they come so far? The plowed ground of the wheat field would have left them exposed for several hundred yards; it could have been a slaughter.

But Abe remembered the sound of the cannon had stopped as they entered the mud, probably because of the Yankee charge. What stupid timing, didn't they see the cadets coming? Abe saw several wounded cadets sitting in the mud, but there were medical orderlies already moving about. And then Abe came upon Billy Cabell's body.

He was only eighteen or nineteen, Abe had never learned which. He stood looking down on the boy that had led them, cared for them and he felt the tears hot on his cheeks. He's with the Lord, Abe thought, and he turned away.

He found Charlie within twenty feet of the fence. He was sprawled out on his back, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the swollen clouds overhead. Charlie's face was wet with rain as Abe knelt down and closed his eyes. The ball had hit him square in the chest, a heart shot, instant death.

"Lord, grant him peace," Abe began, and then the sobs obliterated the rest of his prayer. He wanted to scream at the injustice of this death, he wanted to kill Yankees; he wanted…it didn't matter anymore. "I loved you," Abe said and knew it was true.

The wagons came and Abe helped an orderly lift Charlie up. There were other bodies on the wagon and Abe looked at the orderly. What a terrible job to have.

"Your friend?" The man asked and Abe nodded.

"His name was Charles Crockett, he was my best friend."

Abe walked back through the orchard and around the house. He didn't know where he was going. But there were other cadets wandering around as well. A sergeant from Company 'A' pointed towards the road and told a few of the cadets to form up over there. It would be a five mile walk back to camp.

Abe walked to the road and crossed it, looking up at the buildings of New Market. Some of the battle damage had shattered homes, but there were still no people out on the streets. The Yankees were gone now, they could come back…and then it hit him. The Yankees were headed back through Quicksburg right now.

If their camp was five miles south, his home in Quicksburg was only eight miles north. Abe looked at the cadets assembling up the road and knew this was his only chance. He stepped off into the woods and stopped when he was back in the trees to see if he had been noticed. No one had looked his way.

Abe pulled the bayonet off his rifle and slid it into the scabbard. He checked the load and saw it was still in good shape. He had eight cartridges left just in case he ran into any Yankees. Then he slipped through the trees towards the back of town and disappeared.


On to Chapter Two

Chapter Index

Chris James Home Page