Read Online Gallant Boys of Gettysburg by Gilbert L. Morris - Free Book Online Page B

then and walked away down the line.
    Jeff said as soon as he was gone, “That’s great, isn’t it, Tom?”
    “It sure is. I hope Pete doesn’t take a bullet tomorrow, but if he does, he knows the Lord.”
    The next day the attack began again. Maj. Nelson Majors explained to his officers and sergeants what would happen. He drew a map on the ground, saying, “Look! Here’s what we’re facing.” Then he said, “See that long, low ridge over there?”
    They looked to where he pointed with his stick, then down at the map.
    “Over to the north are Cemetery Hill and Culp’s Hill. Way down on the other end—on the south—arethe Round Tops. If we can take either one of those, we’ll have the Yankees whipped.”
    “Which one are we going for, sir?” one of his lieutenants asked.
    “There’ll be three attacks. General Hood will attack at our far right, General McLaws to his left, and General Anderson to his left. We’ve got to break that line. General Ewell will attack the other side of the line at Cemetery Hill, but the main attack will be on our right. Right there at Little Round Top.”
    The attack did not go well. To begin with, General Lee had expressed his intention to strike early in the morning. All of his forces were up and ready, but the Confederate attack did not begin until late in the afternoon.
    The key to the entire Battle of Gettysburg may have been the small rise called Little Round Top. A Union general left it unprotected, and only at the last moment were reinforcements rushed to protect this extreme left flank of the Union Army. Again and again the Confederates attacked the position but were beaten back by the furious defense of the Union troops. All day long the attacks rolled. Cannon thundered as artillery pounded both Union and Confederate positions.
    It was very late in the day when Tom, thirsty and weary from the hard fighting, rose to lead his squad forward. “Come on, men,” he said. “I think I see a gap up there.”
    The soldiers began to advance, but almost at once one man went down and lay still.
    Tom leaped forward, rolled him over, and then cried, “Pete, are you hit bad?”
    Pete Simmons had blood on the front of his uniform. He gasped something that Tom could not understand, and then his eyes closed.
    Jeff too was beside him in a moment. “How is he?” he asked, nervously peering down at Pete’s still face.
    Tom held his hand on Simmons’s pulse and shook his head. “He’s hit pretty bad. Let’s patch him up, and we’ll send him back to the field hospital.”
    Tom and Jeff worked as quickly as they could, stanching the flow of blood from the wound in Pete’s side. He awoke once while they were doing this and blinked. “Guess … I got shot … didn’t I?”
    “You’ll be all right, Pete. We’re gonna take you to the doctors. They’ll take care of you,” Tom replied as firmly as he could.
    Pete’s eyes were glazed, and he had trouble forming words. Jeff leaned forward to hear him say, “I guess … it’s a good thing … I got saved last night, Jeff … isn’t it?”
    “It’s a good thing—but you’ll be all right,” Jeff said encouragingly.
    Tom called two men, who carried Pete away on a stretcher, and then the attack rolled on.
    When night came, both Union and Confederate forces were exhausted. The Confederate offensive had been fierce, but actually they had accomplished little. The lines were approximately where they had been that morning—with one difference. Ten thousand wounded and dying men were lying on the fields where the battles had taken place.
    Tom and Jeff made their way to the field hospital, where they found the doctors still working by lantern light. After some difficulty, they found Pete.
    He smiled when they came in. “Hey!” he whispered faintly. “Glad you two … are all right.”
    “Yes, we’re fine, but how’re you doing, Pete?” Tom asked.
    They knelt down beside Simmons, wrapped in a blanket and lying on the ground.