The Wahpeton times. [volume] (Wahpeton, Richland County, Dakota [N.D.]) 1879-1919, 1915-09-30
A Battle Within a
Battle
BY M. QUAD
Copyright 1915, by the Mcclure
Newspaper Syndicate.

FlgnI we cOul0 see the shells drop into
the woods and break up the formation
Of the Confederate cavalry every time
they left cover.
We knew where they were. Jeb
stuarts old troopers were there; Wade
aampton's dragons were there-lm-
boden, Rosser, Mosby-every Confed-
crate cavalry command we had fought
in Virginia was making ready in the
shelter Of the woods to charge on our
left flank.
Boom! Boom! Boom!''
The gunners knew what was at
stake. The orders were to die at the
| guns If the position could not be held.
For half an hour their bursting shells
kept the front clear, and we Of the
cavalry cheered them.
| Out from the cover of the forest at
half a dozen places gallop the gray
troopers by hundreds. They wheel to
the right and left, form in two lines,
take their distance, close up with q
trembling motion, and now there will
be grand charge. The shells burst
/
discipline Is stronger than the fear Of
DEATH
Less than 800 of us-all cavalry-to
support the battery. II that mob of
gray riders ever reaches the foot of the
slope we shall be picked up and sent
whirling like dry leaves in hurricane.
The fire of the six guns becomes more
rapid. 1t is truly terrible, but in their
haste the gunners do less execution.
left wheel! Forward! Right dress!"
Just 27S Of us by actual count as we
dress in two ranks. What are we 60
ing to do?
''Draw sabers! Forward! Trot! Gal
lop! Charged"
They are driving us down at that
body of men-ten times our number
4 to break and check the charge. If we
can stop them for ten minutes the bat
terry will be saved by the infantry. We
oblique to the left as we go to close up
We are living wedge, driving down
to enter living mass and split it in
twain.
The wedge enters. The wedge drives
ahead over fallen horses and dismount-
ed men, yelling, slashing, cutting, keep
ing their pace. A trooper slashes at
me, a horse goes down in front OF
mine, I feel myself falling with my
horse, and then l am out Of the fight
for a moment.
things passes away after bit, and l
and my horse lying across my feet
with the saddle flap so holding him
that his dead body must be lifted up
to get me out.
The charge Of the gray troopers
was broken. That wedge drove right
through the mass and turned to attack
them in the rear. Swirling about in
circles like the vulture Of war; the
mass Of men edges away until the
field about me is clear Of all but the
dead and wounded I've got saber
cut ON the shoulder and can feel the
warm blood bathing my arm, but 1
know l could walk away if l could
get my feet clear. l am working to
extricate them when l hear hoofbeats
behind me. The next moment rider
less horse dashes up and comes to a
halt. He has not been hit, but he has
left his rider dead back there in the
stubble, a Federal captain.
The horse stands paving and snort
ing when out from the whirl Of death,
half mile away. breaks a chestnut
charger and comes galloping down
upon us. There is blood on the sad
/ n do, ne I,se, Oh;
tanks. 1t is not his blood, but that Of
the Confederate man who rode him,
and who has been cut down by stroke
of the saber.
1t is gray versus chestnut-Federa
versus Confederate. The newcomer is
still hundred feet away, when the
gray horse rushes at him with ears laid
back and mouth open, and as watch
them I forget that shells are scream
ing, bullets whistling and the saber do
ing bloody work within sound Of my
voice. As the two horses come togeth-
er they rear up, neigh defiance at each
other and a fight begins-a battle with
in battle. Each seems embued with
a deadly hatred for the other, and to
be determined to destroy his antago-
mist.
OF a sudden I realize that they are
close upon me. In their mad fury they
see neither dead nor wounded-hear
not the shout and shot Of battle.
The gray kicks dead man aside as
he backs up for a fresh effort; the
chestnut tramples the life out Of a
wounded man as he dances about
They will be over me If do not stop
them. The heels Of the gray are throw
Ing dirt into my face as I unsling my
carbine and rest it across my dead
horse for shot. fire at the gray, as
be is the nearer and the greater men
ace, but the bullet misses the target.
At that moment they begin to work to
the left, and in the next they are past
me, leaping over dead horses and tram
ping on dead men as they scream and
bite and kick.
Above the roar of battle l hear a rifle
shell coming. It gives out growing,
complaining sound which no man ever
hears without a chill. The sound
grows louder nearer crash! The
horses were f1ftv feet awav and n