The first shot spooked the horse pulling the howitzer. It broke from the formation at a gallop, its dead rider falling from the saddle. A second shot boomed. Fritz figured it for a buffalo gun...probably a .50 caliber Sharps. Trooper Willis reined in, his face in shock. It probably saved his life. The round meant for him smashed into his mount’s head, killing it instantly. Then fire erupted from the left flank. “Lower caliber, probably Winchesters,” Fritz thought, reaching for his Navy...which of course, was gone.
He was unarmed.
Captain Fields screamed “Ambush left!!!” He wheeled his mount and drew his pistol. “Lead element on me! CHARGE!!!”
A dozen troopers came about as the trumpeter sounded the charge. Fritz had seen this before. He knew the charge was doomed.
Fritz leapt off Buddy and pulled Willis to his feet. The boy had a saber strapped to his saddle.
“Is that thing sharp?”
“Yes.”
“Then cut the traces loose! We’ve got to get this gun in action!!!”
Horses thundered across the open valley. The sound of the bugle filled the air. Guidons flapped in the breeze. It was very romantic.
The Winchesters volleyed from the treeline. Men and horses fell. After the second volley crashed, riders appeared and countercharged. They were headed for the riderless horse, haplessly pulling the howitzer.
Fritz yelled over the din. “Form skirmish lines!!! Load...CARBINES!!!”
The remaining troopers took a knee, feeding rounds into their Springfields.
The riders closed on the field piece.
“Ready...Aim...FIRE!!!”
The line burst into read flame. A third of the enemy fell, but still they came on.
Fritz and Willis manhandled the Gatling into position. The boy pulled a magazine from the caisson. Fritz snapped it into the gun.
“Fire at will!!!”
The line erupted again, more of the enemy falling. Fritz spun the crank. The Gatling came to horrible life, chewing at man and horseflesh in equal parts. Divots of earth flew skyward.
His attention was focused on the countercharge. Fritz didn’t see the two riders entering the opposite side of the field. They reached for the horse’s loose reins. Fritz swivelled the gun.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.
“Dammit! Give me another magazine!!! KILL THOSE SONSABITCHES!!!
The troopers fired as fast as they could, but to no avail. The riders were running hard, and were almost out of range. One looked back, his hat falling on its stampede string. A shock of white hair fell loose. His skin was the same color. Fritz could tell he was smiling.
“Cease fire! Cease fire! They’re out of range!”
Fritz mounted Buddy. “Trooper Willis! Keep that gun loaded and ready. I’m going forward to check the wounded.”
“Yes Sergeant!” The boy wore a new confidence on his face. He’d seen the elephant, and lived.
Fritz stopped at the first casualty. It was Sergeant Carter. He had two holes in his chest. His dead eyes peered skyward. Fritz took his gunbelt off the dead boy’s saddle.
The Guidon bearer was next. He was dead too, still clutching the staff. He didn’t let it fall.
He heard the cries of the wounded. Of the dead, only silence.
Fritz reached Captain Fields. He’d been hit in the right shoulder, and twice in the thigh. He’d bled a lot, but wasn’t dead. Fritz pulled his canteen from his saddle. Taking a knee, he offered it to Fields.
“...Sergeant Carter...?”
“He’s dead, sir,” Fritz replied.
“Then...you must...”
“I’ll get you home sir.”
“This...isn’t over...” Fields passed out.
“Nope...guess not,” Fritz said.
He hoped Ella and the rest had heard the shots.