“Good God, sir, you gave us a fright! Thought you were dead an’ gone out there.”
“No, not yet, gunner, but I surely do appreciate the help. Aren’t the Rebs running now? Seems like they are turning back.”
The sound of the muskets from the opposing forces was different enough to discern that the louder reports from the naval muskets, with a higher caliber and powder load, were more numerous than those of the enemy.
“Their shootin’s slowed down, Captain. I think you’re right about their powder an’ shot. They’re runnin’ out o’ cartridges an’ slowin’ down for sure. We’re holding the village.” Wake nodded and told McDougall of Meade’s wound and to seek help for him. He then turned and followed the men with Robbins as they reclaimed the ground initially lost to the Rebel charge. They had made it to the original defensive line and stopped advancing by the time he caught up with them.
Stepping carefully in the darkness, Wake made his way up to where Robbins stood looking down at a group of men sitting close together on the ground. As other sailors manned the defensive line, six seamen guarded fifteen Confederate soldiers who sat with their hands on their heads. Robbins reported the situation as Wake looked at the prisoners.
“They just laid down their arms and surrendered, sir. Just gave up. Rest of ’em ran off back to their lines. They’re all gone now.”
No shooting could be heard now by either side. Only the moans and occasional screams of the wounded were disturbing the night. Wake stood over a Rebel sergeant, then knelt down beside him.
“That was a brave charge, sergeant. You ran out of ammunition though, didn’t you?”
The sergeant had a lined face with many days’ stubble apparent even in the dim light. He might have been twenty years old. He shook his head and looked at Wake.
“They said y’all’re navy sailors and would give in quick-like. Said we could get more rounds off’n y’all, like we used to up in the mountains. Hell, we’d get ’em all the time off’n dead Yanks up there. But tonight we jus’ ran out of shots an’ couldn’t use yores. Yore bullets ’re too damned big for our barrels. Jist don’t fit. Guess they didn’t think on that.”
McDougall came up, heard the sergeant’s comments and spoke to him. “Our army uses fifty-eights, but we don’t. You can’t use our rounds without recastin’ ’em.”
The sergeant nodded.
“Damned fools. I been from Tennessee to Georgia an’ back home to Florida, jus’ to get caught ’cause some fool didn’t know that. Fought all that way jus’ to get caught back home here. Brings a man down, it does, sir.”
Wake shook his head. “Rest easy, sergeant. No more fighting for you. You can sit out the rest of this war, but we’ve got to go on with it. Just rest easy knowing someday you can go home to your family.”
Wake turned away and peered out toward the Confederate lines. McDougall and Robbins stood next to him as Chase walked up. The gunner’s mate broke the silence. “I hate to have to tell you, Captain. Meade’s dead. Never had a chance with that wound.”
Wake nodded and waited as Chase began his report.
“Captain Wake, it appears the attack is broken and over. Our losses are three men killed and eight wounded. Our lines are reestablished and secure. We have fifteen Rebs captured here and another five over where Faber is. He’s bringing them here. Included in the prisoners are two sergeants and a wounded lieutenant. We’ve also got around twenty other Reb wounded and about a dozen dead, from what we can tell. We’re putting their wounded over here with the prisoners so they can try to take care of them themselves. Easier to guard them, sir.”
“Very well, Mr. Chase. Did any of them say anything about their plan tonight?”
Chase nodded his head. “Said they thought we’d run. They ran out of ammunition and had to stop. Those that didn’t run fast enough back to their regimental lines got caught by our sailors. Ridiculous idea, sir. Charging us with almost empty cartridge and bullet bags. What the hell were they thinking, sir?”
Wake saw the eastern horizon was getting lighter as he responded. “Mr. Chase, they were thinking just what they told you. We would run. It’s all perception. They perceived that we would run because they were convinced we believed they had us outgunned and outnumbered, that it would be hopeless to stay here. But we saw through it and didn’t run. They paid a terrible price for their bluff.”
Wake didn’t want to discuss it further and walked away from the gathered men, calling for McDougall to gather the officers and petty officers together for another meeting. He found himself walking toward the line of blanketed bodies on the other side of the crossroads. He was angry and needed to be alone for a few minutes. He watched as the sailors brought the recently killed men, both Union and Confederate, to the place now being called the “morgue” by the seamen. The enemies were placed in two separate lines, as if even in death they were not allowed to mingle and must maintain their political animosity. But they’ll all stink the same when the sun comes up, Wake thought as he watched the bodies being laid out.
McDougall roused him from his morbid thoughts and told him everyone was waiting at the house where they had had the other meeting. Trudging slowly across the muddy road, Wake entered the still dark room and looked around at the faces showing in the faint glimmer from the relit lantern.
“Gentlemen, I have received the casualty report from Mr. Chase. Now I want to know about your ammunition supplies. Give your reports.”
Each man advised how much the men of his detail had left, most reporting ten rounds or more. Wake waited for them all to report and spoke again.
“Well, the enemy has done what we thought they might.
