Killer Angels, The - Michael Shaara [38]
Buford grinned, baring fangs. Damn fool. He's got a brigade in position, that's all. He's hitting me with one brigade, and I'm dug in. Lovely, lovely He wrote to Reynolds: "Rebel infantry attacked at dawn.
Am holding west of Gettysburg, expecting relief. John Buford."
The fire was hotting up. He heard the first cannon: Calef's Battery opening up down the road, grinned again. No Reb cannon to reply: not yet. He sent the messenger off into the mist, climbed again into the cupola.
The light was much clearer. He saw speckles of yellow fire through the mist: winking guns. The road ran black through misty fields. He saw one black cannon spout red fire at the limits of his vision. On the far side of the road there was a deep railroad cut-an unfinished railroad; he had not noticed it before.
He saw horsemen moving behind the line. Then he heard that ripply sound that raised the hair, that high thin scream from far away coming out of the mist unbodied and terrible, inhuman. It got inside him for a suspended second. The scream of a flood of charging men: the Rebel yell.
It died in massive fire. There was still no cannon on the other side. Calef's Battery blasted the mist, thunder among the lighter fire. The assault began to die away The wounded were beginning to come back off the line.
Buford went down from the cupola, restless, found Bill Gamble in the field by Calef's Battery, checking ammunition. There was blood on his left sleeve. His nose was still running. He grinned wetly at Buford.
"Hey, General. That was quite a scrap."
"How are your losses?"
"Not bad. Not bad at all. We were dug in pretty good.
We got 'em right out in the open. Really got a twist on 'em.
Arrogant people, you know that? Came right at us. Listen, we got some prisoners. I talked to 'em. They're Harry Heth's Division, of Hill's Corps.
That's what I've got in front of me."
Buford nodded. Gamble was talking very quickly, head moving in jerky twitches.
"Sir, as I remember, Heth's got near ten thousand men.
They're all within sound of the fight, back that road, between here and Cashtown."
Buford squinted. The rain had quit but the sky was still low and gray. He could see a long way off through the trees, and there were ragged bodies in the fields, groups of men digging, cutting trees for cover.
Gamble said, "Sir, he'll be back with all ten thousand."
"It'll take him a while to deploy," Buford said.
"Yes, but he's got Hill's whole Corps behind him. Maybe twenty-five thousand.
And Longstreet behind that. And Ewell in the north."
"I know."
"Thing is this. When John Reynolds gets here, he won't have the whole army with him, only a part of it. Point is-" he sniffled, wiped his nose-"as I see it, the Rebs will be here this afternoon with everything they've got."
Buford said nothing. Gamble sniffed cheerily.
"Just thought I'd mention it. Now, what you want me to do here?"
Buford thought: if it was a mistake. God help us.
"Heth will be back in a bit," Buford said. "If he's got any brains at all, and he's not stupid, he'll know by now that he's got a brigade in front of him.
Don't think he'll wait to get his whole Division in line. That would take half the morning."
"He doesn't need his whole Division."
"Right. Does Devin report any activity on his front?"
"Not a thing."
"All right. I'll have Devin pull some of his people out and leave a cover in the north and have him dig in alongside, lengthening your line. When Heth comes back he'll run into two brigades. That should hold him until Reynolds gets here."
"Right," Gamble said. He peered up at the sky. "Glad the rain is gone. Don't want anything to slow up Reynolds"
"Take care of yourself."
"You know me: the soul of caution."
Buford moved off toward the north. He sent a second message to Reynolds. He pulled