To General Halleck
War Department, Washington
Sir. At seven this morning Westminster fell to Confederate forces of at least division strength. Supplies set afire, but must assume significant amount will be captured, enough for the enemy to sustain operations for at least a week or more. Hundreds, perhaps thousand or more wagons, fully loaded, captured as well Believe attack is supported by Longstreet's entire corps.
Last communication with Army of Potomac received shortly after dawn, from Hancock, reporting army was moving from Gettysburg to Westminster.
I am proceeding to Washington and will report on arrival.
Haupt
The message went out, and Haupt turned to the men gathered round him.
"Sir, it's a mad panic in town," a captain announced. "Damn mule drivers came storming in here at dawn, screaming the Rebs were right behind them. Pro-Union civilians are already clamoring to get on trains to get out, while others are supposedly hanging out rebel flags. Hundreds of drunks and copperheads are tearing up downtown. Several have been shot Sir, is Lee coming here like they say?"
Haupt shook his head. '1 saw no cavalry up at Westminster. I think Lee will hold there."
"Why, sir? He could have all this, if he wanted it There ain't an organized regiment in the entire city at the moment"
"First the Army of the Potomac. That's what Lee will go for. He will want to destroy it before he turns toward us, and that's what we have to get ready for next"
Haupt turned and looked at the rail-line map pinned to the wall of the station. It was most likely overstepping his bounds, but he sensed he had better act and do it now. To simply leave these trains here in Baltimore was a waste.
He looked back at his men.
"I want the line cleared up to Philadelphia. Get ready to move everything we have up there." "Philadelphia, sir?"
"From there to Harrisburg. I think that is where we'll be needed most"
The men saluted and started to scramble. He saw a pot of coffee sitting on a small wood stove. The fire was out, the day far too hot to have the brew warming. He took a tin cup from the windowsill, poured it full, and drank the black syrup down cold, the drink jolting him awake.
"Get me an express down to Washington," Haupt snapped.
2:00 PM, JULY 3, 1863 TANEYTOWN
"We're going in!"
The cry was like a shock from a galvanic battery. Joshua Chamberlain, half dozing in the midday heat, back against a lone elm tree in the corner of a field, was instantly awake and standing up, as one of Vincent's staff officers galloped through their ranks, waving his hat
The struggle for Taneytown, less than half a mile away, continued to rage, the battle lines that had surged into the edge of town wreathed in smoke, soaring pillars of smoke and fire marking where part of the town, including a church, burned. The air pulsed with the roar of battle; and yet amazingly, here in reserve, only hundreds of yards away, he had actually dozed off, ignorant of the occasional bullets slapping into the tree branches over his head, the men of his command hunkered down behind a low barrier made from a split-rail fence. It wouldn't stop the random shells that winged overhead, but it could at least absorb the stray bullet
The staff officer raced down the line of four regiments, men standing up as he passed.
"Is this it Lawrence?"
Joshua looked over at his brother, Tom, now a company commander. The boy was all eagerness, nervously fumbling to button his uniform up so that he looked "proper" for what was to come.
"We wait for Colonel Vincent" Joshua replied calmly.
The men of his command looked over anxiously at Joshua. He extended one hand in almost a soothing gesture. Several of the men sat back down.
The heat was oppressive, the air thick with humidity made worse by the choking clouds of smoke, which slowly twisted and coiled on the field. The place they were resting had been hotly contested only a couple of hours ago, and the field around them was littered with the dead. In the area where they had halted, at least half a hundred wounded of both sides were piled around the broken-down fence.
Joshua had ordered the dead moved to one side and laid out in a row, the regimental surgeon coming up to help with the wounded, both Union and Confederates from Johnson's division.
That bit of intelligence had been disquieting. They were supposed to be facing Hood. He had talked briefly with a captain from the Twenty-seventh Virginia, the old Stonewall Brigade. The poor man was gut shot, obviously dying, and yet still game, boasting that this time Lee had the ground and then begging for a drink of water, which Joshua gave him before stretcher bearers from his regiment carried the casualties to the hospital area in the rear.
'Here comes Strong!" Tom cried.
Joshua fixed Tom with a chilling gaze. "Officers do not get excited in front of their men, Tom," Joshua said coolly.
"Sorry, Lawrence."
"Just go to your company, Tom. I think we're moving out now."
"Yes, Law… yes, sir." "And, Tom."
His brother looked at him carefully, caught off guard by the suddenly solemn tone in his brother's voice. "Keep back from me today." "Why?"
"A shell. Well, if we both got hit, it'd be a hard day for Mother."
Tom hesitated then extended his hand. "Luck to you, Lawrence." "God be with you, Tom."
Strong rode up to the edge of the fence farther down the line, shouting orders; and within seconds the other regiments started to fall in, forming a column by companies.
Without waiting for Vincent, Joshua shouted the command. His men, coming out from the shelter of the low fence, raced to fall in. Company A, in two lines, led the way with the colors out front, Company B behind them, and so on back through the ten companies of the regiment Three-hundred-odd men forming a column fifteen-men wide and twenty ranks deep. It was a formation that in less than a minute could go from column into line of battle facing any direction.
Joshua, mounting, rode down the length of the column, saying nothing, ignoring the inferno ahead, the tearing thunder of volleys, the steady stream of walking wounded heading to the rear and the lolling heat that made him feel lightheaded.
'Twentieth Maine!"
Joshua turned and saluted as Strong came up to his side.
"Hell of a fight in the center. They're into the town, and it's hand-to-hand in places, but ammunition is running low. We're ordered in on the right Warren came in a few minutes ago. Reports that Confederate troops are deploying on the flank."
"How many?"
"Don't know. He tried to go forward, heard he almost got killed, lost most of his cavalry escort" Joshua nodded.
"We advance by column; Warren will show us where to deploy. You're last in the line, Chamberlain, so you'll be on the right flank."
Joshua nodded again.
"Nothing beyond you. You're the end of the line. Do you understand that?" "Yes, sir." "Let's go then,"
Vincent reined his mount around and galloped off, waving for the brigade to follow. First off was the Sixteenth Michigan, followed a moment later by the Fourty-fourth New York and then the Eighty-third Pennsylvania. Joshua ordered his small column to move out on the double. The men surged over the low wall and started across the open field, the inferno of battle engulfing Taneytown now on their left as they raced on the oblique to the right.
Men from the column ahead started to drop, falling out of the ranks, in most cases hit by random shots that plucked into the field. Joshua spared a quick glance over his shoulder. So far, at least, discipline was holding. The shirkers had been weeded out long ago; all that was left now was the solid core of steel.