Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 When the fighting began, explosions of cannon fire were booming from both sides. The explosions got louder and louder, and came so quickly that there was just one tremendous noise, as though every tree on earth was crashing to the ground at once. The earth under their feet shook. The noise pounded in their ears. Birdie stayed in the wagon with Les, whose leg was in such bad shape that he could barely walk. Homer and Thomas stood on a big rock near the wagon. They could see the hills and the fields

below. Right now, there was too much cannon smoke to see much. But earlier that morning, when all was still quiet, Homer had pointed out the spot where the men from their regiment were positioned: a small hill covered with scrubby trees and big rocks. It didn't look like much, especially from far away. But it was one of the highest points in Gettysburg. "It's worth fighting for," Homer said. "And our men are tough. By God, we'll fight for it. If those rebels want it, they're going to have to try to rip it out of our hands." He'd pointed to the meadow, just below the rocky hill. "I'd guess that, within a few hours, there are going to be thousands of rebel troops charging across that meadow to try to take the high ground." Thomas kept his eye on the smoky scene below. Every so often a gust of wind would clear the

smoke for a few seconds, and Thomas would catch a glimpse of the field. So far there were no soldiers charging across it. Maybe there never would be. Suddenly a messenger on horseback came galloping up. "The captain needs the ammunition wagon right away!" "We were ordered to stay here," Homer said. "They need more cartridges now!" "All right," Homer said. "We'll get it right up there." Les got up and tried to hop over to the ammunition wagon, his face sweaty and white with pain. "Let me go," Thomas said. Birdie was fast asleep. He would be back before she woke up. Homer and Les looked nervously at each other, but then Homer gave a nod.

Thomas hopped onto the wagon, and Homer snapped the reins. The horses moved swiftly, out of the field and up a dusty road. "Keep your head down," Homer said. The horses faltered, struggling to get up a rocky stretch of the road. They'd barely made it to the top of the hill when there was a whistling sound. "Look out!" a voice screamed. There was a deafening explosion. Kaboom! And a tree right behind them shattered into a million shards of wood. The horses panicked, and Homer quickly unhitched them from the wagon. "Come on!" he called. "Let's grab some boxes and run up there!" But then there was more whistling…. "Thomas! Run!" Thomas sprinted away seconds before a cannonball smashed into the wagon.

Kaboooooom! Thomas felt as though his head had been smacked into a stone wall. A shard of metal sliced his forehead. Another carved a jagged gash into his right thigh. The wagon erupted into a fireball as he hit the ground. Flames chased after him. Men groaned and screamed. "Thomas!" called Homer. Thomas gasped in the smoke. Blood spilled into his eyes. He couldn't breathe. Burning wood surrounded him. He crawled away, his leg throbbing with pain. He was desperate to escape the flames and smoke. He rolled down the hill, down, down, down, until he reached the flat grass of the meadow.

His head pounded. He could feel the blood gushing from his leg. It was a bad cut. Very bad. The smoke burned his eyes and his lungs. It was hard to breathe, to even think. Down in the grass, there wasn't as much smoke. A breeze blew and for a few seconds the air cleared. Thomas could see across the field. He froze in terror. There they were, rebel soldiers ready to charge. There were thousands of them — men in front on horseback, waving gleaming swords. Behind them, two lines of men stretched across the entire meadow, soldiers with their rifles raised.