Then she knew exactly where she was. Little Round Top.
Jeb Stuart was finally back. There was firing all along the front as Stuart arrived, exhausted from five straight nights of marching. Lee’s staff fell silent as the dust-covered · cavalry commander rode up. the stare with which Lee greeted Stuart was as cold as any had ever seen their commander give.
“General Stuart, Where have you been?” He didn’t give Stuart a chance to immediately respond. “I have not heard a word from you in days, and you are the eyes and ears of my army.”
Stuart stiffened. “I have brought you one hundred and twenty-five wagons and their teams, General.”
“Yes, General, but they are an impediment to me now.”
Stuart’s head dropped and all in earshot turned away, pretending not to bear. As if sensing the profound effect his harshness had had, and that the battle was far from over, Lee stepped forward and put a tender hand on his cavalry commander’s shoulder. “Let me ask your help now. We will not discuss this any further. Help me defeat these people.”
The lead units in Hood’s division were two regiments from Alabama. They made a beeline for Big Round Top, and except for a handful of Union snipers that they quickly ran off, found the hill undefended. They charge up the hill and took it in a few minutes.
The commander of the Fifteenth Alabama looked over to the next hill, little Round Top, and saw no activity on it. it. His men were tired from charging up the hill, so he gave the order for a short period of rest before they would resume the attack and seize Little Round Top.
There were some Union soldiers on Little Round top, not far from where Amelia Earhart was hiding her Valkyrie suit. Meade had not completely ignored his left flank and sent his chief engineer, General Warren, there to ascertain the terrain and the possibilities for defense.
Warren was astounded to find only a handful of signalmen on the hill, and these were preparing to leave hastily as they had seen the gray wave sweep up Big Round Top and knew they were next. Warren ordered the signalmen to stay in position and sent runners off, one to Meade and the other to Sickles, recommending that troops be sent immediately to hold Little Round Top.
Once more luck and good leadership played a role as · one of the runners passed by Colonel Vincent’s Third Brigade. Vincent had the runner show him the message he carried and recognized the importance. Disregarding the orders he had received earlier, Vincent ordered his thirteen hundred men toward Little Round Top, at double time, with Colonel Joshua Chamberlain’s twentieth Maine in the lead.
From her vantage point, Earhart saw it all unfold and with what she had studied on the flight from San Diego to the Devil’s Sea Gate, she knew the history of what she was witnessing.
A wave of blue came rushing in from the east and raced up the hill and then partly down the western and southern sides, halting in a thin defensive line. Directly below Earhart was the Twentieth Maine, now the southern-most end of the Union line, facing to the south 1D a curving line.
Fewer than five minutes after Chamberlain’s troops arrived in position, the Confederates from Big Round Top arrived at the base of the hill and began charging up the steep incline, weaving their way through the trees, undergrowth and boulders.
The men from Alabama ran right into the men of Maine. At stake was the entire fate of the Union Army, because if the Confederates could turn the Twentieth Maine, they would turn the flank of the Union Army and accomplish What Lee had set out in the morning to do.
Earhart watched as the Confederates charged, to be met with close-range volley fire from the Union lines. The effete of the 50-caliber minie balls fired from the muzzle-loading rifles was devastating. Even a hit on an appendage caused so much trauma that many men died from such wounds. The screams of the wounded and dying mixed in with the rattle of musketry. Earhart felt as if she were in some strange, dream world as the air around her filled around him and gave his orders quickly, trying to take advantage of the brief lull before they were attacked again. The shocked looks on the company commanders reflected the audacity of Chamberlain’s plan. Despite their surprise and misgivings, the officers went back to their men and relayed the orders.
Sunlight glinted off steel and the Maine fixed bayonets. With a yell, and Chamberlain in the lead, the left branch of the V, began to charge downhill. In less than ten seconds they were into the startled Confederates who were hiding behind trees and rocks, gathering their strength and courage for the next charge.
Men finally broke. The Confederates had charged uphill, again and again, over the bodies of their comrades, into a withering fire, and they could take no more. The Rebel line broke and ran, the Twentieth Maine sweeping down among them.
Earhart watched as I Confederate officer offered his sword to Chamberlain in surrender even as be pointed a pistol at the Union officer’s bead and pulled the trigger. The gun was empty and Chamberlain knocked it from his hand, sending him back with the detail that was gathering the prisoners.
Little Round Top was clear of Confederates and the Union left flank was secure.
Earhart stayed hidden in her tree and hoped that when nightfall came she could climb down and reclaim the skulls. This brutal fighting had to have charged them, of that she had little doubt.
She wanted no more of this fighting.
The news coming from Pennsylvania was spotty at best. Lincoln sorted through telegrams, but could not get a feel for what was happening, as many of them were contradictory. The South was attacking in some. The North in others. Meade was retreating. No, Lee was retreating. Stuart was reported riding on Washington.
“Tomorrow,” Mary said.
“More death?”
“Yes,” Mary confirmed. “But also hope.”
Wrong. Ahana remembered Amelia Earhart’s last words to her before they parted; that she had to be going to a better place than Gettysburg. And she now knew those words were dead wrong.
Ahana came out of the gate into night, but there was enough moon light to see that she was surrounded by thousands of Zulu warriors. Cries of alarm were sounded at the sudden apparition of the white creature coming out of the black circle, floating a few inches above the ground.
Within seconds she was encircled by a ring of warriors brandishing short, wide bladed spears. One jabbed it forward, the point bouncing off the Valkyrie suit armor. The blow slowly spun Ahana about and as she turned she could see that she was in a valley and the ground was literally covered with warriors, thousands and thousands of them.
She brought the suit under control and raised her arms in the universal signal of surrender, but that didn’t stop a half dozen warriors from trying to skewer her. Their efforts were to no avail, as the blades didn’t even scratch the hard white shell she was encased in.
After several minutes the warriors moved back, leaving a ten-foot-wide empty. Circle around her. Ahana wasn’t certain what to do. The strange stalemate continued for thirty minutes before the circle parted and two people stepped forward. One was an old man, obviously someone of great importance given the deference the warriors showed him; the other was an old woman, wearing a long cloak and with a crystal amulet around her neck.