Civil War Shorts

Divided: A Short Story

The Rebels had attacked our supply base but before we had a chance to retaliate, they had rushed off towards the setting of the First Battle of Bull Run. I heard about a firefight between one of our divisions and Stonewall Jackson's men last night. I hadn't been there to see it, but one of my friends, Lucas, had. I, however, am one of Fitz John Porter's men.

General John Pope is preparing us to mount an attack against the Confederates and to say the least, I'm scared. It may not be my first battle, but with each clash against the Confederacy, any of them could have been my last. With each battle that passes there is a loss on one side, and whether they are my brethren or my enemy, that is the tragedy of war.

But just like every battle, I know that I will see a familiar face fighting for the Confederates. My cousins, my siblings, my friends, people I had grown up with. But I had never had to confront them, and I hoped this battle would continue that tradition.

I hope this will end not at all like the First Battle of Bull Run. I was there to witness that battle, in fact, I even fought in it, but it had been a decisive Confederate victory. We had luckily managed to escape to Washington last time, avoiding being taken captive. Just like last time, I wondered about whether or not I would see my family again.

My wife Elizabeth had only just had Lia when I had left to join the army April of last year. She and her cousin, Rose, were taking care of our daughter while I was away. Lia would be over a year old now. I hated that I was forced to miss my daughter growing up. I wouldn't see her first steps, her first word, anything. Not until I got back. But if I could make the world a better place for my daughter so that she wouldn't have to grow up with slavery everywhere, then I would.

When the sun finally came up, Pope started to send divisions in smaller assaults on differing Confederate positions. Lucas left about a half hour ago and it seems that Jackson's men are holding their ground. My leader and John Pope seem to have gotten into a heated argument, and Porter isn't following orders to lead us against the Confederates. He believes that we'll be facing the entirety of Longstreet's corps. The whole camp has been fairly silent, and it seems that everyone is fearing the battle that is sure to come.

According to General John Pope, the Confederacy has begun to retreat! It seems that a Union victory is imminent. He has even sent word to Washington saying so. The General has renewed the attacks on the Confederacy, but this time, my party was to go. Unlike last time, my leader didn't refuse, most likely due to the fact that we were to be going after a supposedly retreating army.

I strapped on my rifle and my division began to march. I fell into line near the front, so I could see the division leader. Fear wasn't my companion anymore, now, all I felt was nothing. Going into battle, any emotion I had felt was ripped from me, leaving me as only a cold, empty, killing machine.

I refused to let fear make my decisions. I refused to let anything other than logic dictate the moves I made on the battlefield. To determine whether or not I would walk off that battlefield myself. I had already been ready since that morning, we were expected to be ready to fight before we were even sent into the fray.

Our commander must have spotted something because he gave us the signal to stop. His brow furrowed as he looked around. He relaxed and we continued forward. Finally, the Confederacy stood before us. Even with all of the sentries they had, we hadn't been spotted, a generous stroke of luck for us. We stopped, even the sound of our breath was silenced. And then we charged.

But they were ready. Their artillery aimed at us and soldiers were immediately gunned down, but the rest of us charged forward. As I met the Confederates in battle, I didn't spare a second glance as I shot. I didn't pay heed to the soldiers I killed as I shot and reloaded, my mind only on the battle. It wasn't about friend or foe anymore, it was about me and my enemy. A hand gripped mine and I shot out of my focused state. It was our commander.

"Go back to camp. Warn them." He shot off like a rocket before I could even respond.

I sprinted through the frenzy of soldiers and bullets, somehow managing not to get hit. In what seemed like minutes I had gotten back to our camp, but I knew it had been hours. Precious hours where had I run faster, we could have gotten better prepared.

"Confederates..." I gasped for breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "They're coming."

The whole camp was in a rush to get ready and stand a united front. And once we had finally gotten ready, the Confederates rushed out of the forest, barreling towards us.

I looked at Lucas, and he nodded at me. This could be the last time we saw each other, but if we died fighting we would at least die fighting for our country, for the Union. It was a promise we made every battle.

I experienced a moment of deja vu as we faced the troops rushing towards us. But the roles were switched now. And our chances of pulling a win this time were slim to none.

Lucas and I rushed into battle together as our army retreated behind us. The front line continued to fight, buying time for the others to retreat to safety. The second we entered the flurry of weapons and bodies Lucas and I lost each other. And once again I was lost in the battle. Shoot, reload, shoot, reload, shoot, reload. That was the only thing that I knew anymore. At least until I saw Rose, carrying a bayonet attached to a large musket. And she was fighting for the Confederacy.

I faced her in battle, my heart pounding, snapping me back to what was happening.

"Lia?" I asked, my voice breaking. She shook her head, and at that the cold rage of battle overtook me and I pointed my rifle at her. My hand inched towards the trigger, and I fired, not caring who she was anymore.

Quicker than the bullet, she rushed towards me, her bayonet detached from her musket which laid on the ground a few feet from her. The knife opened a gash in my thigh and I nearly fell over in pain.

She was suddenly at my back, pinning my arms behind me. "Tell her hello from me," she snarled, her lip pulled back from her teeth.

Rose ran the short blade through me. Pain exploded through my body, and I fell to the ground, no longer able to stand.

I faintly felt the sensation of a blade being wiped on my shirt and heard her pick up her musket, cooly attaching the bayonet once more. She walked off, her silhouette disappearing as she moved further and further away.

I rested my head on the cool grass, still wet from the early morning dew. I no longer wanted to live. The pain was still coursing through me as I bled out, the red liquid staining the grass as the fighting echoed through the battlefield surrounding me.

"Elizabeth..." I whispered. If something had to be my last words, it would be her.

I let go of the world and found myself falling, falling, falling. Through the black void known as death.