Read Online A Blaze of Glory by Jeff Shaara - Free Book Online

to shoot a musket in the driving rain was enough of a challenge as it was. Pretty hard to keep your powder dry. And a musket full of wet powder was a boil-on-a-backside to clean. He thought of McDonald’s words, had no confusion about their mission. Be awful nice to know who you are, General. The whole bunch of you.
    He blinked rainwater out of his eyes, felt a sneeze coming, did all he could to stifle it, bent low, held his nose, the sneeze exploding into his ears. McDonald said in a low voice, “They can’t hear you from over there. Can you hear them? This rain makes a nice damn blanket over all of us. I’ll get these boys back to the horses, make a camp. No fires. We need to eat something. You got any rations?”
    “Yes, sir. Some hardtack, hunk of raw bacon.”
    “It’ll have to do.” McDonald looked around, pointed to the old sergeant, and another man, motioned them forward. “Sergeant, you and Hinkle stay with the lieutenant here, keep each other company. I want to make damn sure those bluebellies are staying the night. Look and listen, any signs of a camp, unbridled horses, wagons unloaded, all of that. Don’t want them marching the hell out of here without us knowing about it. It gets too dark to see, you make your way back to us. Yankees are pretty scared of the dark, so once the sun goes down, they’ll probably stay put.” He pointed back away from the river. “The horses are three hundred yards straight that way. You get spotted, anybody hollers at you or shoots at you, crawl like blazes out of here, and make sure we hear you coming. I’m taking no casualties, and no one gets lost, not in my command. You get close to us, use a password … Beauregard . Call it out. Somebody’ll answer you. For now, as long as there’s daylight, try to see some of those damn flags. They’re supposed to be proud of the damn things. I want to know who they are. That’s the only damn reason we’re here. I didn’t join the cavalry to sit in slop.”
    The captain moved away, leading the others back from the river. Seeley watched him, waited for the last man to disappear into the darkening woods, thought, he sure cusses a lot. Probably not a church man. Don’t hear too many officers in this army tempt fate with that kind of talk. Colonel Forrest, maybe a little. But if I had that much to be thinking about, I’d probably let down a little, too. Just don’t let Katie hear that. Or Mama. Oh Lord, no, not Mama.
    Beside him, the sergeant, Gladstone, growled, “Lookee there. See all that white? They’re putting up their tents. That’ll make the captain happy. Looks like they’re planning on staying awhile.”
    Seeley saw wagons now, gathering on a hillside farther back from the river, supplies unloaded, men in motion everywhere.
    “Tonight anyway. Good.”
    Gladstone pointed at Seeley’s field glasses.
    “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but you ought not be so mean to them things. Can be a man’s best friend out here.”
    “I know. It was stupid. They slipped out the front of my coat.”
    The other man spoke, Hinkle, very young, one of the men from Kentucky.
    “Can’t see much of nothin’ anyhoo. Gettin’ dark fast. You see flags? This is dumb, if ’n you ask me.”
    Gladstone punched the boy in the shoulder.
    “The lieutenant didn’t ask you; the captain neither. Dig the mud outta your ears and listen for bugles. Maybe they’ll tell us something.”
    “Right. Hadn’t thoughta that.”
    Gladstone moved to one side, toward a small crooked tree, stuffed himself against the trunk, a sliver of shelter. He dug into his own shirt, and Seeley was surprised to see a single-lens spyglass. Gladstone pulled it lengthwise, telegraphed it out nearly two feet long, held his hand out over the larger end, sheltering it from the rain, scanned the far side of the river for a long minute. He slid it closed again, looked at Seeley, a broad smile, missing many teeth.
    “My pappy gave me this, sir. Navy man. Said he knew John