The Last Full Measure by Jack Campbell Page A

with Armistead, seeing an elderly man clasping a vintage musket in one hand. The man came to attention and saluted. “Private John Burns, reporting for duty, sir.”
    Armistead returned the salute solemnly. “You appear to have fought your battles long before this, sir.”
    “I fought against tyranny in the War of 1812 and I can fight against it now. I have no horse, but your cavalry captain suggested you could use reinforcements here on Cemetery Hill.” Burns must have read the hesitation in Armistead. “I have seen seventy years on this earth, sir. I do not fear dying now in the cause of liberty.”
    “Then take your position in the line, sir,” Armistead ordered, waving Burns toward the positions occupied by the defenders on the west side of the road. “Inside the gate house. Fire from the window along with the men already there.”
    “Yes, sir.” With another salute, the old man marched behind Sergeant Maines toward the gate house.
    Armistead caught Chamberlain’s look. “He has spirit, captain. A vital element in any group of men, but especially important now. These are good men, but they lack enough experience fighting alongside each other, especially against regular troops in force. When Lee begins his attack we must give them simple and clear orders, and ensure they see us during the action. Do you understand?” His arm raised and swept across the hill top. “They must stay under cover as best they can for protection, but you and I must be seen by them if they are to remain steady. Unfortunately, that means the enemy will see us as well.”
    Chamberlain managed to smile. “Like Julius Caesar or other Roman generals. They had to lead their legions from the front.”
    “Exactly, sir.” Armistead paused, his eyes on the regulars. “They’re on the move. Still in column, but only a company. Surely Colonel Lee would not attempt that, but that is Sickles leading the company. He is rash enough to try such a move without waiting for approval from Lee.” Armistead indicated the stone wall to the east of the road. “If you will take up position there, captain, I will command from the right. Wait for my command to fire, and ensure you have enough force at your bastion near the road to hold it against a rush.”
    His throat suddenly felt very dry, but Chamberlain saluted. “Yes, sir.”
    He walked over behind the stone wall, but close to it, seeing his men crouched behind the wall and the dirt they had thrown up while digging shallow entrenchments. His men. It didn’t feel real at the moment, nor did the steady march of the regulars on the pike, who had now brought their rifles to port arms but were still coming up the pike in a column.
    Sergeant Maines walked up beside Chamberlain and shook his head. “It’ll be more murder than battle in a moment, captain. Those regulars are going to try to bust through us in column instead of forming a line for fighting.”
    “Why are they doing it?”
    “Because they’ll think we’ll break at the first blow, sir, and a column makes a fine hammer against light resistance. But if you throw a column against those determined to hold their ground, it is nothing more than a mass of men forming a target a fool could not miss.” Sergeant Maines moved along the stone wall, checking to make sure every man was ready to fire.
    To Chamberlain, the marching regulars already seemed far too close, an officer riding before them with casual arrogance, not even having bothered to draw either sword or pistol. Now the officer called out. “On the hill! Surrender in the name of the Army of the United States!”
    Armistead replied, his voice carrying easily down the slope. “The Army of the New Republic holds this hill, sir, and will hold it in the name of liberty for the people and for the Constitution of the United States of America.”
    The officer seemed to hesitate, as if surprised to have his order rejected, his horse dancing as its reins were jerked in different directions.