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  To my dismay I saw that the leading elements of the Corps we had seen were forming up on the ridge. “Let’s get out of here!”

  We had done all that was asked of us and now it was time to escape the two rocks which threatened to crush us. I saw a trooper fall but I had no idea which one it was. This was no time to stop. A blue coated trooper ran from the woods with his rifle aimed at me. He pulled the trigger and I expected a flash and then my demise but his gun either misfired or he had forgotten to load it. I grabbed the end of his rifle and pulled him towards my boot which crunched against his chin. I spun the rifle so that it was like a lance. It still had the bayonet attached. We galloped down the creek. General Hill’s men must have been pushing the vedettes back for blue troopers streamed down the slope to cross the creek. I slashed the bayonet across the face of one trooper and speared a second. My men were still firing as we galloped away from the fray and soon the creek bed was filled with dead Yankees.

  We rode until our horses slowed with exhaustion. I turned in the saddle. I had six men left. We had lost two troopers. Climbing the bank I headed for our own lines but I kept a good watch; General Jackson had not been killed by our enemies but our own men. Soldiers would be more than a little nervous this day.

  We reached the headquarters without incident. General Hill strode towards me. “Captain Hogan. Have you news?”

  I knew then that Trooper Grant had perished. “I sent a trooper sir. The force in front of you is nothing more than a dismounted Cavalry Corps but the Yankees have reached Cemetery Ridge and are digging in.”

  “Damn Pettigrew. Thank you sir. When you have rested could you ride to the Chambersburg Pike. Your men have not reported yet from the north.”

  “Gladly sir.”

  I made sure the men dismounted and watered their horses. The nearby creeks were a godsend but soon they would be brown and salty with men’s blood. I had now lost three men and it was barely eleven o’clock. General Hill had been correct; had General Stuart been on hand then the battle might already be over. A handful of troopers had caused a near collapse of part of the line. I imagined the effect of the best Confederate Cavalry.

  “How are we for ammunition?”

  The two sergeants went around the men. “We still have twenty or thirty rounds apiece.”

  “Corporal Lowe, take two men and see what you can get from the dead Yankees.” While they were gone we reloaded our weapons and made sure we grabbed something to eat and drink. This promised to be a long day. I could not remember the last time I had slept. I could see stretchers returning with the dead Alabama men. I watched each one in case my men were amongst them but they were not.

  Corporal Lowe came back with a healthy supply of balls and powder. We shared them out and then I mounted the men. “We are heading north. Keep your eyes open for our men.”

  We had to navigate through brigades which were hurriedly being sent to shift the Union cavalry. They had sharpshooters who fired at us as we passed. Bullets and balls zinged around us. When we reached the Chambersburg road we could see heavy fighting. A major from a North Carolina regiment grabbed my reins. “Who are you boys with?”

  “We are General Hill’s scouts, the 1st Virginia Scouts sir.”

  He pointed to an unfinished railway line. “There are some Yankee cavalry holding us up there. Could you and your boys get around them and flank them?”

  I almost laughed at him; seven men to make a flank attack? It was ludicrous but I could see the pleading in his eyes and the dead men lying on the Pike.

  “Yes sir, we will do our best. Follow me.” I led the men down the Pike away from the battle. It would have taken infantry much longer to cover the same distance. I could see the ridge ahead and I took us towards the railroad line.

  I was about to begin to move down it when there was a sudden movement from our left. All hands went to our guns until I saw it was our men. It was Sergeant Ritchie and seven men. “Thank heavens it’s you sir. We were knocked about a bit. “

  I gestured with my thumb. “As was I. Come on Sergeant Ritchie, we are going to make a flank attack on the cavalry.”His eyes widened in surprise but he said nothing.

  We approached in single file. We passed the bodies of the men killed in the earlier encounter. I held up my hand and slipped my carbine out. I dismounted and gestured for horse holders. Two men took the animals and I crouched as I led the men forwards. The men to the right of the railroad were firing at the major’s men and they were exposed. I knelt and took aim. When I was sure that we were all in position I shouted, “Fire!”

  We were only a handful of carbines but the shock of that volley on an unprotected side was devastating. “Pour it into them boys!”

  We were either kneeling or lying down and the uncoordinated rifles did little damage as the Union soldiers fought back. Suddenly my carbine jammed. I slung it across my back and drew my Colt.

  “How are we doing, Sergeant Ritchie?”

  “Trooper Wainwright is dead and Trooper Dunn is wounded, otherwise we are doing well.” He paused, “Considering our asses are hanging out in the wind here.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll move as soon as we can.”

  I was contemplating pulling back to the horses when the troops before us ran back to form a new line. I heard a bugle sound the advance and knew that they had reinforcements. We had done enough here. “Pull back.”

  As we passed the dead Yankees we took their weapons and ammunition. I hoped that my carbine could be repaired but our master gunsmith, the Sergeant Major was many miles away. We rode back the way we had come. The major swept his hat off. “Thank you very much Captain. You bought us just enough time to bring up some fresh troops.”

  We waved and galloped back to General Hill. Even as we rode I could see that we were advancing, albeit slowly. There was no one taking pot shots at us this time. The camp appeared devoid of any senior officer and I was directed towards Willoughby Run.

  “Sergeant Ritchie, get the camp organised and find some food.” Although we could still fight our horses were so exhausted that another patrol might result in a serious injury and we had no way of gaining remounts. I stood patiently while the general spoke to his colleagues. He gestured me over when he had finished.

  “Sir, we now have a continuous line to the north. When I left the Chambersburg Pike the Yankees were throwing in their reserves.”

  He clapped me around the shoulder. “That is excellent news. Now if General Ewell can do as General Lee has ordered and take Cemetery Ridge then we can win this battle tomorrow.” He suddenly seemed to see me for the first time. “Captain you get some rest for you and your men. We will need your eyes and ears tomorrow. I can guarantee that.”

  I was dog tired and I think the general’s words had made me realise just how tired I was. Walking Copper back to our lines I heard the crump of the cannon as they added their firepower. This was no longer a skirmish. This was the battle which would decide the war and the future of America. The Confederacy had their best generals and their best men. If we could not defeat them now then we never would. It was a sobering thought.

  Chapter14

  Gettysburg- Day Two

  Attribution: Map by Hal Jespersen

  Sergeant Jones and his men had arrived and, like us, had lost men. We had lost men before but never so many and in such a short space of time. I hoped that the rest of the regiment was faring better.

  We had food and we sat around our fire as the afternoon drifted towards evening. We had no tents but it had been a hot day; it was still warm and we would sleep beneath the stars. As Sergeant Jones pointed out, we were better off than our dead comrades.

  After we had eaten I fiddled on with the carbine but it stubbornly remained broken. It would have to wait until the Sergeant Major returned for a repair. The whole company sharpened swords and cleaned weapons while there was still light. I berated myself for allowing the carbine to become damaged. It had been a lack of care which had caused it. I knew that I could pick up
a single shot carbine but I would stick with my three Colts. Perhaps I would pick another up the next day anyway.

  Just then we heard some soldiers marching and singing as they came towards us. The song was the ‘Mountains of Mourne’ and the voices were Irish. I looked up and suddenly realised that they were Union soldiers. They still looked aggressive and full of fight. It made me wonder what had made them surrender. When they saw our badges I saw them halt. The guards with them looked confused.

  “Come on you Micks move on now.”

  One of them, a sergeant, tried to lurch towards us. “It’s them murdering bastards. The ones who killed our boys!”

  The corporal guarding them tried to hold the big sergeant but he broke free and swung a haymaker at me. I moved my head out of the way and as he lumbered he lost his balance and I hit him on the side of the head. He fell like a sack of potatoes. My men had their Colts out, trained on the rest in an instant.

  Sergeant Jones’ Welsh voice sounded in the silence which followed. “Listen you bog Irish. One more move and we will save the Confederacy the trouble of feeding you! Pick up your thug here and in your words, feck off!”

  There was a rumble of discord and suddenly twenty Colts were cocked. The corporal in charge shrugged apologetically, “Come on boys, its Andersonville for you.” They picked up the unconscious sergeant and trudged sullenly off.

  Sergeant Ritchie lowered the hammer on his Colt and said. “Next time I see a Union Irish man I shoot first and ask later.”

  The last guard escorting the prisoners said, “Well there are thousands out there. This is the Irish Brigade and they are the craziest fighters in the whole Union army.”

  I was almost shell shocked when they had gone. They had not even known my name and yet they were willing to kill me, or die trying. I had to do something about this. I had to find Sergeant Mick Callaghan and end this.

  I ached when I awoke the next day. I was as tired as I had ever been. The guns had awoken me before dawn as the first cannons fired over the field of Gettysburg.

  General Hill had secured Seminary Ridge and the cannons were arrayed along its top. Across the valley, along Cemetery Ridge, we could see the bristling Union guns. Ewell had not removed the threat and now the Confederate grey would have to rid the hill of the blue by its red blood. We now held the high ground to the west but the crucial ridges were held by the Union. I also heard that they had control of the rocky land in which we had hidden a couple of days earlier. It would be like getting a winkle from its shell to remove the Yankees from there.

  General Hill summoned me to his early morning meeting just before dawn. I was grateful for the good nights sleep and felt more refreshed than I had for some time.

  “Ah Captain Hogan, you are refreshed I hope, for today we will need you and your invaluable scouts even more than we did yesterday.” He lowered his voice and put his arm around me. “General Stuart, it appears, is stuck close to Hanover where he and the Union cavalry are fighting their own battle. You are our only eyes and ears. I need you to infiltrate their lines and find out their numbers.” He saw the look of horror on my face. “Oh, come sir. I know you have been behind enemy lines before now.”

  I had but then I had been with Dago Spinelli, a man I trusted implicitly and whom I knew would get me out of any jam I might find myself in. Of course I could not say that. “Of course sir. What are your instructions?”

  “I wish you and one of your comrades to get to Cemetery Ridge and ascertain what their dispositions are.”

  I bit my tongue. Had General Ewell done as ordered we would know that already. “Very well sir. Give me an hour to make my preparations.”

  I took a detour to the medical tent where the Irish prisoners who had been wounded were being treated. I saw the orderly at the entrance and I waved him over.

  “Yes sir. How can I help you?”

  “Those Irish boys who were just brought in have you any who have head wounds?”

  “A few of them sir. Why?”

  “I need to ask one a couple of questions.” He gave me a questioning look. “Listen orderly the general has asked me to go behind the enemy lines. If I am to return than I need all the information I can get.” He still hesitated. “I promise that I will not endanger the man’s life.”

  He nodded. “But I will be with you.”

  “Very well.” I pointed at his white coat. “Have you a spare one?”

  He went into the tent and brought one out. “There is this one but it is a little bloody.” He smiled at me as though he expected me to baulk at the sight of blood.

  I put it on over my uniform. “I have waded through blood. This is nothing.”

  Once inside I was pleased to see that the interior was dark and it was difficult to make things out. He led me to a bed where there was a soldier with a heavily bandaged head. It covered his eyes. I knelt down next to the bed. I put my mouth close to his ear.

  “Listen friend, I am Mick Geraghty from the 28th. I have just found those boys Mick O’Callaghan is looking for.”

  I heard him start. “The Wildcats?”

  I was putting the accent on heavily. “Aye. I’ll split the reward with you.”

  I heard suspicion in his voice. “I don’t know you and besides how will you get to him?”

  “I promise that if I get the reward I will share it with you. You have my word on that.” I was not lying for I had no intention of getting any reward. “As for how I can get away, well they thought I was dead and left me with the corpses.”

  He reached up and grabbed the bloody white coat. He rubbed the sodden material with his fingers. Seemingly satisfied he laid back down. “He is with the gunners at the southern edge of Cemetery Ridge. Just before the Devil’s Den.”

  “Thank you son. Now you rest.”

  I stood and left. The orderly followed me. As I handed him the bloodied coat I said, “Satisfied?”

  He nodded, “But why are you looking for this man?”

  “He has put a price on the head of a couple of friends of mine and I want to make sure that he isn’t around to pay it.” I realised how cold and hard my words and voice sounded when the orderly shuddered.

  “I wouldn’t want you to be on my trail.”

  “Nor will this sergeant either.”

  When I reached my men they gathered around expectantly. I felt that I was letting them down but I had no choice, I had my orders.”I have been ordered by General Hill to go behind enemy lines.” There was a collective gasp from my men. “I need a volunteer, a foolish volunteer, to come with me. I am not certain if either of us will return.”

  Every hand went up. I caught my breath. I was touched as never before. “Thank you for your support. Sergeants and corporals, I cannot take you for you will need to lead the rest of the men. I cannot take the married men, that would be unfair and I cannot take a recruit. That leaves Trooper Duffy.”

  Trooper Duffy had been with us for a year and had come from the 2nd Virginia. He was quiet but I had noticed that he was both reliable and never panicked. He was also single. His wife and child had died of the influenza. However the other factor in his favour was that he was Irish and that would help with our deception. He was my only choice.

  I saw the disappointment on the faces of the others, especially my two sergeants. “Trooper Duffy, go to the medical tents and see it they have two uniforms from dead men. Try to get us a couple of Irish regiments.”

  Duffy nodded. “Any particular rank sir?”

  “Not an officer; we don’t want to get noticed.”

  I turned to the two sergeants. “You two will need to take the rest of the company and scout for the general. Do the same as you did yesterday. I should be back by late afternoon.”

  “If you aren’t sir then we will come looking for you.”

  “No Sergeant Jones. Your job is to keep as many men alive as you can. If I don’t return then the colonel will need as many good men like you as he can get.” I paused. “Sergeant Ritchie, watch Copper for m
e. I’ll be on foot today.”

  Duffy came back with two uniforms, a corporal and a private. “I had little choice for you sir. This was the only one big enough to fit you. He handed me the corporal’s jacket. I could see blood on the chest and a small cut. I shivered. I was stepping into dead men’s shoes. The kepi fitted well. I did not need to change my gun as Colts were used by the Union.

  Sergeant Ritchie handed us our muskets. I noticed that they were smoothbore. He saw my look. “The Irish Brigade uses these with one large musket ball and four smaller ones. It makes them like a shotgun.”

  General Hill’s aide appeared and nodded his approval. Then he saw our guns. “That won’t do. Your uniforms are for the 28th Massachusetts; they use Enfield rifles. Wait here I’ll get a couple.”

  I handed them back to the sergeant. “Keep these close they may come in handy.”

  By the time the aide returned with the guns dawn was breaking. “You had better get off captain. Good luck. Have your men escort you through our lines. We don’t want your head blown off by our own side, do we?”

  With that grim thought we headed east. We reached the Emmitsburg Road and saw that there were no Union forces before us. The gunners looked askance at us as we were escorted by our comrades. We could see the early light in the east and we said our farewells.

  One of the artillerymen said, “You letting those Yankees go?”

  As Duffy and I ran down the slope I heard Sergeant Jones say, “Those are our boys. You see them later and mind that you don’t shoot them.”

  That thought had worried me. How would we get back? I could see how we could infiltrate their lines before the battle started but not when it was in full swing and we would have to return to our own lines when the battle was at its fiercest. We would cross that particular bridge when we had to.