Horrible Harvest

The strike force was 16 soldiers strong – Felix, Liddle, and we, the former Miller men. The captain fount us stood at attention and ready to move out on his command.

“Stealth is the order of the day, gentlemen. Our footfalls soft. Our communication silent. We have learned of a barn in disrepair that is being used to treat escaped slaves for various ailments and injuries. It is guarded by a small number of Union soldiers and an even smaller number of civilian personnel are serving as caretakers.”

He give pause.

“It brings me no joy to give the following order, but it is what is demanded of us on this day. None shall experience the next sunrise. Armed, unarmed, northerner, southerner, soldier, civilian, white, colored – All who occupy the barn are deemed enemy combatants and will be cut down as such. Blades only. Bayonets and Bowies, and it is incumbent that we do not let the guards fire their weapons. Understood?”

He give his madness an out. He blamed the orders he give on the war. We was to kill whoever or whatever dared draw breath once we was inside the barn, and our souls not be damned because the fucking war called for it. Killing for country. It’s a hell of a free ride on murder.

Me and Evers was ordered to move to the North side wall with our Bowies in hand. We were to take out whoever exited the building once Lieutenant Duggars’ men begun to fire.

A full fifteen minutes passed ‘fore the first shot was fired. A second followed and then a volley of shots. A chorus of yells from our fellow Rebels filled the air between the shots.

The camp of Yankees, separated from the barn by a small pasture, come to life. While we couldn’t see what was happening, one could imagine Yankee soldiers filing out from their tents in various stages of undress, rushing to retrieve their firearms from their stacked positions.

“Find the direction,” come the command.

“East,” come the reply.

“Companies D, E, and F – Hollow square – center camps – ”

A Union soldier come out the barn as the unidentified general barked out formation positions in the distance and another controlled volley of shots filled the night air.

Evers lurched forward and knocked the soldier face first to the ground. The Yankee landed with his rifle pinned underneath him. Evers quickly jumped on his back, forced his victim’s face into the dirt to muffle his screams, and repeatedly stabbed the defenseless man in the back.

A second Union soldier stepped out the barn and was stunned numb at the sight of Evers stabbing his fellow Yank to death.

I let out a whistle, and thunderstruck, the bluebelly turnt to me, only to be met with my knife coming toward his head. He stepped back just a stitch, and the knife didn’t enter his ear as was my intent. Instead, I sliced him open from his cheek to the tip of his nose. He give out a yelp and put both hands to his face. I grabbed him up by his collar and stuck my Bowie deep into his chest. My blade was true. He died right off. ‘Fore he hit the ground. It gives you a gust of fire in your innards, it does – killing a man. You feel a surge of – everything. The universe entire swims through your veins and the power of it feels like it’s gonna turn you to ash, but it don’t. The feeling lasts but a second or two and instead of feeling full of energy and life when it’s gone, you feel empty.