Read Online They Met at Shiloh by Phillip Bryant - Free Book Online Page B

of the day before left his brogans soaking wet, and his toes squished about in wet woolen socks. Robert’s company was third in line of the column. All he could see in the front was a line of heads and rifles. The still, dark forest put Robert on edge. They had marched silently, not by order but just by the thought of not being caught unawares after leaving the picket post half an hour before. The blackness made it exceedingly difficult to see but a few feet in any direction, and the general downward slope of the track forced him to control his stride lest he blunder into the back of the man in front. The lead company was extended in a skirmish line and as flankers, spread out at five pace intervals in front and on flanks parallel to the march column. Despite the chill, Robert was sweating as the tension built.
    He could see his pards well enough in the darkness to see they, too, were uneasy. Every shadow they passed, each odd grouping of trees or bushes, looked like bandits ready to attack. Each sound or break of a twig sent shivers down him as they waited on another halt. Peering into the thickness of the woods to the side of the trail, he saw numerous ghostly apparitions flitting from shadow to shadow, blending in with the trunks and shrubs. Sudden movement in the distance would form silhouettes and then morph into something different as he stared. He imagined an army of ghouls moving about, only to freeze at the right moment just as his gaze fell upon them.
    “Forward, march,” Captain Schmitz said softly.
    The silence was broken again by the shuffling of several hundred foot falls upon the track. Resuming the march allowed Robert to relax once again. He concentrated on keeping the pace, which was preferable to imagining Rebels lurking in each change of shadow.
    Without warning, the report of a musket rang out. Robert jumped at the sudden sound breaking the relative quiet. A string of individual shots followed from the skirmish line ahead. In between he could make out the fire of pistols and the pounding of hooves.
    “Halt! Halt!”
    Like an accordion, the company columns compressed at the suddenness of the command. Cursing rang out when men blundered into the backs of their fellows. They heard wild and irregular firing ahead in the distance. For brief moments, the horizon was lit up as a musket discharged. Robert craned his neck to make out what was going on in the distance.
    Captain Schmitz returned to the company and loudly ordered, “By the right oblique, forward march!”
    Sluggishly, the men stumbled forward off the rough trail and into the underbrush. From Major Powell, the command rang out, “By company into line, form battalion!” With unsure footing stumbling on numerous obstacles in the dark, the marching column changed into a double rank front. Robert kept his arm in touch with the man next to him. Others were similarly groping along.
    The next command heightened the tension. “At the double quick, forward march!” Captain Schmitz shouted as the column broke into a labored trot through the thickets and toward the next company forming in front. Robert struggled to keep his balance. Every man grabbed the one ahead of him to follow the pell-mell race to form a line of files.
    Each company found its place in the line for battle. All were breathing heavily and struggling to maintain balance in the midst of the rising tempo of musketry to their front. Officers moved about nervously, animated by the adrenaline that came with the nearness of action.
    “Forward, march!” commanded Major Powell, and the battalion lurched forward. Company officers and file closers in the rear kept up a constant stream of commands and admonitions to keep the pace, keep the guide to the right, keep their resolve. With a full view now of what lay ahead, Robert kept his attention glued to what might appear in front of them. To his relief, the trees gave way to the solid blue of an opening in the forest. He made out the bobbing