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  1. #141
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Being a 'Duke of Sung' is a old chinese saying I believe.
    It means that one is a losing commander or just a foolish commander.
    'we are not dukes of sung' sounds pretty wise.

  2. #142
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    Happy's St. Patrick's Day Everyone!

    A little enjoyment on everyone's favorite holiday, for tomorrow is National Hangover Day!

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  3. #143
    Second Lieutenant Erie_Patriot's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by volksmarschall View Post
    A little enjoyment on everyone's favorite holiday, for tomorrow is National Hangover Day!

    LOL!

  4. #144
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    For a moment I thought that Tom would leave Bill on his own. Great AAR!
    "Cum boni nihil faciunt homines, malum praevalet"

    "A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it." -

    “Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.” -Gandalf the Grey

  5. #145
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Auray View Post
    For a moment I thought that Tom would leave Bill on his own. Great AAR!

    Thanks! But we most remember that they are still brothers, even though they are trying (not actually though) to kill one another...
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  6. #146
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    Chapter Four

    "Forward! For God's sake forward!"

    Tom with Bill on his back, flanked by Paul, Justin, and Adam ventured away from the combat going on in the "Butcher's Nest" and made their way to the Central Field Hospital on a small ridge some miles from the current battline. They looked back, slowly the woods and uniforms behind them became less noticable, until finally they were unseen, only being able to hear the dying battle behind them. Tom began to talk to Bill as they made their way through the forrest heading for the field hospital.

    "It's for your own good Bill," said Tom to his brother, "if you're not taken prisoner, you'd been left to die on the fields this very day."

    Bill only looked at his brother, in pain too far to speak to him, only able to look at his brother's long hair buzzing out of his Union cap. In and around a half an hour they reached the hospital where they were greeted by the sights of turn limbs, blood-drenched uniforms, and doctors with red paint all across their arms and outfits.

    "What's the problem soldier?" asked a doctor to Tom.

    "Rebel prisoner, he's wounded," said Tom to the Union doctor.

    "Set him down by that tent, I'll take a look at him soon enough."

    "Soon enough?" replied Tom with a shrugg on his shoulder.

    "Sadly. An officer inside needs his leg amputated otherwise disease from the wound will eat away his leg, then I'll look at our rebelious American and then promptly send him off to the prisoner block."

    "Thank you sir," said Tom as he re-shouldered his arm that was being held by Justin and began to walk back to the battle.

    Bill looked around the hospital, terrified at the sights around him; most of the soldiers around him were far older than he was and in more critical condition. He looked at a Union cart full of motionless bodies being taken to a ditch in the ridge where they were dumped into and marked "Soldiers from Clinch Mountain, 1861." Bill took a deep breath and spoke to God in his mind, praying that he would watch over he and his brother. An arm stained in blood quickly slammed on his shoulder frightening him, Bill turned around to see the soldier behind him, the soldier had a gash on his head and arm, his face not being that recognizable to anyone who wouldn't had known him.

    "Colonel Chapman?" questioned Bill in face of his officer.

    "William Smith is that you? I can't really see anymore."

    "Yes colonel."

    "You were one of the few soldiers I had gotten to know in terms of names. My sergeant was always saying something about you. Not that being the reason I wanted your attention, but I couldn't help but hear that you were praying," said the colonel as Bill was having a hard time looking at Colonel Chapman who couldn't see, having one eye patched, the other full of blood and his arms stained like a deep juice, "I just wanted you to say a kind word to the lord for me. Now that you are a member of the Seventh Tennessee, can you?"

    "Ofcourse colonel, I'll send a word for you into the lord," answered Bill.

    He glanced back at the colonel who rested on a small log behind him. He took a deep gasp of air, reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigar. Bill took the liberty in taking it out for him, placing it in his mouth and getting a Union doctor to lite it for him.

    "Thank you," said the colonel as he smoked on his cigar, calming him down.

    Bill began to pray for Colonel Chapman. He was soon to finish, then quickly began to hear the screams of the officer in the tent behind him, as the amputation was begining. Blood began to stain the outside of the white tent as Bill took immediate notice. The doctor walked out with a red rag and wiped his hands with it, looking at Bill he walked over to him.

    "Where are you hit son?"

    Bill turned to show him his shoulder, gashed with a large wound and the bullet lodged in a bone, the bone being slightly noticable by the doctor. The doctor helped him up and told him it was going to be fine, that they only needed to remove the bullet from the bone and all should revert back to normal. The only thing after that he told him was the fact that he was a Confederate and was going to be sent to the prisoner block after a successful operation, and the end of the battle. Bill took his place on the bed, looking at the man who just had his legs cut off, rocking back in forth in shock and pain.

    "Just take it easy son, and everything will be just fine."
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  7. #147
    Second Lieutenant Erie_Patriot's Avatar

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    Amazing update! I hope the colonel is going to be alright, seems to be the inspiring officer type.

  8. #148
    Captain TheEnlighted1's Avatar

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    Excellent work my friend!
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  9. #149
    Well done since I last saw this, volksmarschall! Truly staggering losses at the butcher's nest!
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  10. #150
    Marshal of the Empire BritishImperial's Avatar

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    i'm glad to see brotherly love won out in the end. i wasnt sure what the attitudes of the sides were to each other - whether they'd be relatively good to them as they are after all americans, or whether they'd shoot them all as rebel scum.
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  11. #151
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    take it easy when you are a rebel soldier put into enemy camp waiting for your death sentence?

  12. #152
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    @ Erie_Patriot: Thank you good sir, officers who lead from the front are the most inspiring although they most likely end up being killed and or wounded. That's what happened in WWI with the German and British Junior Officer corps, most were killed because they were the first to go over the top.

    @ TheEnlighted1: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.

    @ TheHyphenated1: Thanks! As you may or may not know, General Bragg; although a major Confederate figure, wasn't a brilliant strategist and is one of the most contraversial Confederate Generals of the war, so I'm sticking to a historical basis (and have to put casualty numbers somewhere into the battle based on the results in the game).

    @ BritishImperial: Sometimes, family is just to hard to let go. They is still some compasion between the *Americans* but some hardliners from the North wouldn't do so, but just remember; now his going to be a prisoner.

    @ Enewald: Wouldn't you? No, it was the only way Bill was probably going to survive, from his brother's side at least.
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  13. #153
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    Chapter Four

    "Stay still!" yelled the doctor as he peeled the skin around Bill's wound to allow a surgical tool, more like scissors, to remove the bullet inside of his shoulder.

    "Hold still," said the doctor as Bill's leg shook violently as the assisting doctor moved in with scissors and began to touch certain parts of Bill's inner muscles and flesh. Bill was screaming inside of his mouth, not wanting to let a huge outburst when he knew his wound wasn't a severe as others around him or who have already died because of it. Bill began to breath heavily as he could feel the scissors tough his bone then his bullet. The scissors opened to get a grip on the bullet, the doctor was unable to remove it without it slipping out of the claws.

    "Damn't," he said. "I'm gonna have to ply and push it out," he finished.

    "Sergeant," yelled the main doctor, "towels quickly, we may have some blood in a while," he said turning to Bill. "Don't worry, we just have to push the bullet out as it is lodged very good into your bones, no sweat," he finished with a smile as the sergeant walked in and handed him a towel. "A tourniquet too," added the doctor to the sergeant. The sounds of artillery sounded in the distance as night was coming over the mountainous battlefield.

    The doctor moved the scissors once more into Bill's shoulder, passing a small ligiment in front of him, and placing the scissors between the minieball and crack in the bone, positioning it so he could apply leverage with his hand and Bill's collarbone to ply it out (as that seemed to be the only way of removing the bullet at the moment). He began to ply it forward, pushing against the bone causing Bill to wince in pain; feeling his bone being chipped apart by the scissors themselves. The bullet then raced out of his bone and quickly moved up into the air and landed nearby the sergeant who was returning with the tourniquet. A small stream of blood shot up into the air, quickly stopped by the towel the second doctor applied to the hole.

    "Sergeant, alcohol!"

    The sergeant raced to bring in alcohol as a means to stop the bleeding as the hospital was depleted of its normal supplies. The alcohol had a hard sting when applied to Bill, but Bill was soon to get out and walk towards and sit next to Colonel Chapman outside once again. He sighed and talked to the colonel who had just asked who had sat down beside him, to which he was happy to hear the name 'Bill,' replied to him.

    "Colonel," began Bill, "I always wanted to ask you a question about something I could never figure out."

    "What is that?" questioned the colonel.

    "Why do you carry that golden watch with the marking 'Mark of Twain?' " asked Bill.

    The colonel smiled, "Ahh, you musn't know then, then your not a sailor. When I was little, I fell overboard my father's ship on the Mississippi, believing that I was going to drown but the river was shallow. Only twelve feet deep they were able to jump in a save me because I was at the base of the river. If it was any deeper I would've died that day, so I keep the watch with the 'mark of twain' meaning the water is only twelve feet deep."

    "You fell overboard as a child?" laughed Bill.

    The colonel laughed and sat back, "Yes," he finished

    Bill had a smile and began to talk to the colonel again, the colonel wasn't responding this time around. "Colonel? Colonel?" questioned Bill until he felt the head of Colonel Chapman rest along his shoulder, he knew that the colonel had now died; leaving Bill in a camp of unknown men, both wounded and not.



    ~ Tom and his companions were returning to the battle by nightfall, the beautiful orange crackling lights of artillery and rifles were a sight to see during the night. Tom could only see a few out in front of him and was re-assured by his commanding officers and junior officers that the day was won and the battle was over or would resume at day-break. He set his rifle down beside Justin and rested his head by Paul and tried to get some well deserved sleep that he and the Union Army had finally and rightfully deserved and won.

    Tom eventually closed his eyes, finally seeing nothing but black spaced volume. Tom and his friends slept well for a short while. Midnight passed and early morning was creeping up on the Union Army, the time most likely being just after two in the morning. Tom was asleep like a giant not knowing or aware of anything going around him. The Union sentries were busy smoking and not paying much attention to the Confederate controlled fields. One sentry was stabbed through the back of the neck, the other was taken by the mouth and brutally murdered by several Confederate soldiers.

    Behind them, the entire Confederate Army was moving forward, this included General Johnston who was there to show some influence and install courage among his battle-tested men who had finally been beaten back during the midday hours before. Whispers spread like wildfire across the Confederate lines who inconspiculously eliminated the Union sentries, now the Confederates were posed to strike over the defenses and move directly on top of the Union soldiers below them. One of the Confederate soldier's advancing, only a few feet from the Union lines snapped a twig.

    Tom opened his eyes and saw the glistening glimmor of a Confederate bayonet above him. Tom grapped his rifle shooting it in the air and quickly stabbing the Confederate soldier, killing him instantly.

    "Get up! Get up!" shouted Union soldiers, "they're here!" they said as the Confederates yelled and jumped forward into the Union lines. Nasty fighting and hand-to-hand fighting ensued, the majority of the casualties being the tired and weart Union soldiers as random rifle and the occassional artillery fire was the only light that was seen in the darkness of the "Butcher's Nest." Tom clutched his rifle and moved his hat in front of his face as he hoped the Confederates would think he was already dead. Union soldiers began to flee backwards, shooting at the Confederates blindly.

    It was so dark that men were killing, shooting, and running into their own friends and comrades. From Tom's position he could hear his friends begin to talk; Paul and Justin had just ran into one another. "Justin?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Let's get the hell outta here!"

    "Where's Tom?"

    "He's probably already left, he's the smart one."

    Screams and sounds of death engulfed the dark air once again, Tom closed his eyes and shook as he heard the sicking noises of blood and organs being blown out of men nearby, and bayonets ripping into wool uniforms; especially the screams that followed. A Union cannon fired one last shot and fell silent, a rocket went screaming into the air, illuminating the grounds below it. The Confederates had just taken the "Butcher's Nest" with minimal losses, but one they could ill afford to lose, General Johnston was shot by a stray bullet, Union or Confederate; that no one knew. But for Tom, he was in a sea of dead soldiers, piled under dead comrades and surrounded by Confederate soldiers all around him. Tom was trapped in Clinch Mountain.

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  14. #154
    Second Lieutenant Erie_Patriot's Avatar

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    A nice night attack it seems.... seems like Bill and Tom are both trapped in Tennessee right now.

  15. #155
    Human Enewald's Avatar
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    Blood, blood and bloodless corpses. Sweet bloody victory.
    Nice writing as all the time!

  16. #156
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    Just got caught up and I must say that this AAR continues to be excellent. With both brothers in a very desperate situation, I'm eager for the next update.
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  17. #157
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    @ Erie_Patriot: Right on, sometimes a concealed attack works better than a glorious and deadly (unsuccessful) charge of the soldiers.

    @ Enewald: Thanks, but what was it worth as General Johnston was wounded and his command in peril and the Union army under Banks still largely outnumbers mine in Tennessee and not to mention the Union Army under Freemont in Missouri...

    @ Hardraade: Why Thank you! I'm glad you still enjoy it.
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  18. #158
    Sturm und Drang volksmarschall's Avatar
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    Chapter Five: Escape from Clinch Mountain

    Chapter Five

    Tom was sunk in a flood of dead bodies, not willing to move through much of the night, weary of the Confederates all around him. Through the small cracks that he had left with the men covering him, in order to see and breath, the early rays of the sun were piercing through the cloud clover; causing him to steer away from openings. Tom was caught, frozen in his body caught in a tough situation as Confederate troops were moving closer and picking up the fallen Union and Confederate soldiers alike. He listened in on their conversation as he grew increasingly nervous of the actions coming closer to him. As the men picked up the bodies and dumped them in a mass grave, marked only with "Dead from the Butcher's Nest, Battle of Clinch Mountain," Tom could hear the rebel soldiers talking about the events that ended the battle.

    "General Polk has recalled his troops now, they have another five-thousand or so prisoners."

    "Is that so?" questioned the other soldier as the picked up a body of the soldier covering Tom's feet, Tom's eyes grew wide open.

    "True. The Union army is in rout, falling all the way back to Kentucky; just wait until Colonel Forrest hits them in the woods of Tennessee."

    "I almost feel bad for General Banks, he can't win a battle."

    "Neither can the entire Union Military," commented the other soldier as they removed a body beside Tom, Tom closed his eyes and began to bite his lips and tounge, hoping they wouldn't reach him.

    "Some things just never change."

    "The hell they don't. Have you heard anything about General Johnston?"

    "He was shoot in the neck, he's in the field hospital. They're talking about making Polk or Bragg the new general in chief, and promoting Cheatham up to Major General."

    The Confederates lifted off the body over Tom's face, Tom realizing the situation was now in the worst position of his life. His eyes closed, he slumped his head to act like he was dead, the blood of the soldiers covering him, and the mud of the battle stained his face and clothing well enough to make him look like a dead Union soldier. The Confederate soldiers were still talking about the battle, as they removed another soldier that was laying across Tom's stomach. Tom could feel that final soldier covering him, he began to panic inside his body and mind as that soldier was lifted off of him. He could feel the ground beside him rumble with the footsteps of the soldiers marching towards him.

    Tom was at first stunned, they didn't pick him up to place him in the grave. The soldiers were called over to help bury a few unlucky soldiers who were missing parts of their body, the scene being to cruel and bloody for the young nurses who were also helping with the burial of the soldiers. Tom lay along the wall, exposed and nervous. He could hear the chatter of the two soldiers returning. Their hands took a firm hold of his legs and head, he tried not to flinch; well enough that when the two men reached the grave, they casually slid him in and he tumbled down the side into a pit of hundreds of dead bodies. Tom opened his eyes, he nearly puked at seeing the head of the man next to him completely blown off, his brains and insides were only inches away from him.

    In the sea of Union dead, he slowly moved to a better location, sitting in and waiting for the dumping of the dead to cease. He could see several Confederates with shovels now, they began to toss dirt and gravel back down on the Union grave. Tom really began to panic, he was at a point of just giving himself up rather than be killed, being buried alive. A hand appeared behind him, from underneath the deceased bodies, grabbing Tom by the mouth. Tom freaked out, looking down he saw the eyes of a soldier open; nearly giving him a heart attack.

    "Shhhhh!" the soldier whispered to him. He pointed down and said, "Make your way under the dead." Tom did so, after about ten minutes he made his way under the plain of the dead without causing any alarm. "I'm lieutenant Richard Seth, my friends call me 'Dill'."

    "T-T-T, Tom Smith, private," he responded.

    "Becareful, I've been moving through this trench for several hours now, I've gotten perhaps several hundred feet. Take it nice and slowly. A guy who was beside me got up and was captured, you may have heard some gunfire."

    "Yes," answered Tom.

    "We have to get moving, I can feel the dirt beginning to reach us."

    The two Union soldiers slowly crawled their way through the sea of dead, arms and blood among other things were dripping and becoming obstacles for the two soldiers. Tom was nervous, Dill wasn't.

    "Stop," said the lieutenant, as he could see footsteps coming closer.

    "Okay, right here sergeant," said the voice above them. Tom could feel the impact of another dead body as it landed directly above him. "Be calm, they're not yet gone. Okay, begin moving slowly again," he said to Tom who complied.

    Both could see the end of the grave, a large wall of mud and dirt was only a few feet in front of them. They made their way the top of the pile and waited, hoping they wouldn't be rained upon by dirt and mud. They saw a group of Confederates with the work tools, Tom looked at the lieutenant and he nodded; knowing what was about to happen.

    "There's nothing we can do now but pray," he said with a light voice. He closed his eyes just as dirt fell upon his face. Tom did the same, feeling the impact of millions of small pieces of rock, sand, and gravel impact his face and body. The two were slowly being buried alive, unsure of what was going to happen to them. Tom's face, clearly visible moments ago, was now buried deep beneath the earth; he was alive, but for how much longer. Tom was beginning to gasp for air.
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    I am a historian, philosopher, and research economist (BA in those 3 subjects) | "The Church is the foundation and pillar of truth" (1 Tm. 3:15) - ex-Protestant convert to Catholicism.
    The Paradox Historiography Society, a group for historians to discuss theories of history and historical work, and for those interested in the actual professional.

  19. #159
    Grim stuff indeed!
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  20. #160
    General Hardraade's Avatar
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    I second the TheHyphenated1's comment. Very grim stuff. The passage was very well written, the last couple of paragraphs in particular.
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