Somewhere in the World

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

July 1863

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

As quickly as the ascent of Cemetery Ridge by the waves of charging Confederate forces began, it was over. At least it seemed that way to Higgins. He was amazed that such an ill-fated maneuver had been attempted, given the superior position of Union troops and cannon, and the wide expanse that the Confederates had to climb in order to engage the Union Army. He had heard much in the past year of Robert E. Lee and the Confederacy's chivalry and honor, had heard of the holy aura surrounding the South's "Cause" and the boasts of God being on the side of the Confederacy. Still, he could not fathom the deployment of so many to a certain death.

The carnage surrounding him was beyond comprehension; he had no words to describe its magnitude or its horror in any newspaper dispatch. The image of an abattoir he had visited once flashed through his mind, but even the blood and dismembered animal carcasses he had witnessed in that slaughterhouse were nothing to this devastation.

His ear burned like the devil; rubbing it, his hand came away bloodied. Bullet must have grazed me, he thought dispassionately, as if he noted something that had happened to another. It smarted, but the adrenaline coursing through him kept the pain at bay. Only later would it sting and throb.

"Higgins! Over here!" The sharp cry penetrated his dark reverie. Turning, he espied a private from his outfit waving his arms to get his attention. He struggled toward the distraught man, maneuvering over fallen fence slats and bodies until he reached the side of the private. Before he could frame a question, he registered that the limp body at his feet was that of John Thornton.

Biting off a curse, Higgins knelt beside Thornton and placed two fingers at his throat. He was relieved to find a pulse, faint though it might be. A quick glance showed him that Thornton's right pant leg was soaked with blood from groin to foot. Before Higgins could examine the wound, a hand grasped the front of his coat. Thornton's eyes were opened and trained in desperation on his friend's face. "Higgins," he ground out, his eyes bright with fear. "My leg--I can't feel my leg."

"Your leg is here—let me see the damage," Higgins said in a curiously detached voice. "Quick, man, your knife!" he snarled at the startled private, who fumbled for his blade. Higgins slit the pants leg and pushed the flaps of fabric aside. He swallowed hard at the sight of a deep wound in the muscle below the knee where a musket ball had penetrated to the bone. Dear God, he thought in rising fear, a Union surgeon will take that leg off the moment he sees it.

He tore a strip of fabric from the mangled pants leg and fashioned a tourniquet just above the knee to slow the bleeding. Without taking his eyes from his work, he ordered the private, "Find me a wagon, a cart, a barrow—anything to transport this officer!" The youth tore off in pursuit of transport as Higgins quickly examined Thornton for other injuries. Aside from the leg, all else seemed well—but the leg frightened him, although he fought to keep his fear from his face and voice.

"The battle—" Thornton forced the words from between teeth clenched against pain, "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

"Don't know yet," Higgins replied with forced calm. "It's too early to say. Losses look immense for both sides, but after this last maneuver, I would say the tide has swung in our favor. I fear they have nothing left to hit us with—it looks like mass confusion on their side. I heard that one of their major generals, Pickett, lost all of his officers. They're idiots, all of them."

He clasped Thornton's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. "Listen, we need to get you out of here. I'm going to fetch a surgeon to tend to your wound, and then we're going to take you home." He's going to need proper nursing to save that leg, he thought grimly. Margaret and Dr. Donaldson will know what to do. He bent over his handiwork, attempting to tighten the tourniquet, noting as he did so that Thornton had mercifully slipped from consciousness.