The Killer Angels - Michael Shaara [100]
Four regiments would be perhaps two thousand men. Chamberlain was impressed.
“We got five hundred prisoners,” Tom insisted.
The figure seemed high. Chamberlain: “What are our casualties?”
Tom’s face lost its light. “Well, I’ll go check.”
Colonel Rice came up. Much darker now. He put out a hand.
“Colonel Chamberlain, may I shake your hand?”
“Sir.”
“Colonel, I watched that from above. Colonel, that was the damnedest thing I ever saw.”
“Well,” Chamberlain said. A private popped up, saluted, whispered in Chamberlain’s ear: “Colonel, sir, I’m guardin’ these here Rebs with an empty rifle.”
Chamberlain grinned. “Not so loud. Colonel Rice, we sure could use some ammunition.”
Rice was clucking like a chicken. “Amazing. They ran like sheep.”
Woodward said, “It was getting a bit tight there, Colonel, I’ll say.”
Rice wandered about, stared at the prisoners, wandered back, hands behind him, peered at Chamberlain, shook his head.
“You’re not Regular Army?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh yes. You’re the professor. Um. What did you teach?”
“Rhetoric, sir.”
“Really?” Rice grimaced. “Amazing.” After a moment: “Where’d you get the idea to charge?”
Chamberlain said, “We were out of ammunition.”
Rice nodded. “So. You fixed bayonets.”
Chamberlain nodded. It seemed logical enough. It was beginning to dawn on him that what he had done might be considered unusual. He said, “There didn’t seem to be any alternative.”
Rice shook his head, chuckled, grunted.
Chamberlain said, “I heard about Colonel Vincent.”
“Yes. Damn shame. They think he won’t make it.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Not by much.”
“Well. But there’s always hope.”
Rice looked at him. “Of course,” Rice said.
Chamberlain wandered among his men. Ought to put them in some kind of order. He was beginning to feel an elation in him, like a bubble blowing up in his chest. A few moments later, Rice was back.
“Colonel, I have to ask your help. You see the big hill there, the wooded hill? There’s nobody there. I think. General Warren wants that hill occupied. Could you do that?”
“Well,” Chamberlain said. “If we had some ammunition.”
“I’ll move a train up. That hill’s been unoccupied all day. If the Rebs get a battery there … it’s the extreme flank of the Union line. Highest ground. Warren sends you his compliments and says to tell you he would prefer to have your regiment there.”
Chamberlain said, “Well of course, sir. But the boys are tired. May take a while. And I sure need that ammunition.”
“Right. I’ll tell the general you’ll be up soon as possible.”
Chamberlain squinted. A wall of trees, thick brush. He sighed.
Tom was back. “I count about one hundred and thirty men, Lawrence. Forty to fifty already dead, about ninety wounded. Lot of boys walking around with minor stuff, one hundred thirty for the hospital.”
Chamberlain thought: one hundred thirty down. We had three hundred in line. Almost half the regiment. Kilrain is gone.
He told Spear of the move. He was becoming very tired. But along with the weariness he felt spasms of pure joy. Spear formed the company, Rice took over the prisoners. Rice came by to watch them go.
“Colonel,” Chamberlain said. “One thing. What’s the name of this place? This hill. Has it got a name?”
“Little Round Top,” Rice said. “Name of the hill you defended. The one you’re going to is Big Round Top.”
Little Round Top. Battle of Little Round Top. Well. I guess we’ll remember it.
“Move ’em out, Ellis.”
He went back to say goodbye to Kilrain. The white head was visible from a long way off, sitting stumplike, motionless in the dark of the trees. He had leaned back and was staring at the sky, his eyes closed. He had welcomed Chamberlain to the regiment and there had never been a day without him. He would be going back to the hospital now, and Chamberlain did not know what to say, did not know how to express it. Blue eyes opened in a weary face. Kilrain smiled.
“I’ll be going, Buster,” Chamberlain said.
Kilrain grumbled, looked sourly, accusingly