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Amidst a Storm of Bullets |
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This was a story assignment for my English class Sophomore year.....a view from the Seminole Indian War....
December 8, 1835. We marched on foot from Fort Brooke to Fort King; traveling through Seminole country we had only three more days until we reached our destination.
While moving at a leisurely pace we prayed we would avoid any Indians during our trek; crossing the Hillsborough River we continuously looked behind us to see if we were being followed. What would we do if we were attacked in the water? We would have no chance of escape.
We climbed out of the river and had a good laugh about how silly we sounded about Indians attacking us while we were crossing.
Safely on the opposite bank we had a chance to let our clothes dry a bit; taking off my blue uniform jacket I hung it up on a nearby branch and made sure no damage had been done to it. I then began to layout my belongings which consisted of my daily rations, a change of clothes, my canteen, ammunition, and various writing materials.
Once the company was situated we headed west to finish our mission. As we made our way through the brush we entered a clearing of tall grass and Spruce trees; with General Dade in front we were led through a dirt path oddly covered by twigs and bits of grass. We weren't more than twenty paces from the clearing when all of a sudden we found ourselves amidst a storm of bullets.
Left and right my comrades were dying, fifty of us began our trek and in less than three minutes we lost about twenty. Scared and unable to pull themselves together soldiers coward behind trees and in the tall grass. Suddenly we heard a booming voice rise above the hum of bullets.
"Stand up and fight you cowards!! Show these Indians who's bo..."
General Dade was cut off. We watched in horror as Dade's lifeless corpse slid from the saddle to the dusty ground below. Feeling stronger and more confident Company K crawled out from their hiding places, the cannon was brought out and we began our defense.
We were loading the last of the cannon powder when we realized the firing had ceased; we attended the wounded and collected the remaining ammunition from our fallen brethren. Going from body to body we saw a group of thin sickly trees and decided to cut them down and create a blockade that would hopefully stall the Indian advance.
Our assumption was false, just as the last log was placed they returned. However their tactic this time was similar to Whack-a Mole; they would stand and fire then drop back into the grass. As I covered for an injured soldier I felt a sharp pain in my right arm, then my right leg. Going numb I collapsed on the ground only to hear the final scream of a dying soldier.
I lay on the ground motionless, face down so as to help hide my breathing as several steps were heard. The muffled conversation of two Indians fell on my ears, they went around from body to body taking anything they could. Finally, one of them reached me. My head throbbed like an overworked drum and i could swear my heartbeat would give me away.
Just as he leaned down and place a hand on my pack another voice was heard and his motion stopped. The other Indian probably told him that they had found enough. Probably.
With an angry grunt he walked away leaving me alone, I stayed put for a while to make sure they were officially gone. With no returning footsteps I managed to raise my half-limp body to a sitting position.
Once my eyes adjusted to the light I observed the horror of what once was Company K. Crawling on my belly I maneuvered over their bodies, but the sound of a quiet and almost whispered voice made me to pause.
"Johnson. Johnson is that you?"
"Yes," I replied. "This is Johnson. Who's calling?"
"Mathews. Thomas Mathews."
My heart lept with joy as i hobbled towards the voice. There, lying under the General's horse was Thomas Mathews. We managed to remove the carcass from Mathews legs and I saw that he had only minor cuts and bruises. Grasping his outstretched hand Thomas helped me up and together we hobbled west hoping for a rescue.
No sooner than we exited the clearing the sound of hooves was heard and we knew we had been found out. Unsure of what to do we split; Thomas to the left and myself to the right. As we split we dove into the tall grass and lied perfectly still; but then the horse went from a brisk walk, to a trot, and finally to a full gallop. I prayed and prayed that he wouldn't right, but soon after I heard three gunshots and knew he had found Thomas.
When I was sure he was gone I rose once again and headed to Fort King. Two days had gone by and I was hot and thirsty, my wounds had grown worse and I feared what would be done to them at the hospital. My legs buckled and I fell to the ground; I lied there and stared at the sky when I heard a faint shout. I disregarded it as an hallucination but then it got louder.
"Hello? Whose there? Stand up slowly and tell me your name."
Well standing was out of the question, so I rolled to my stomach and crawled towards the voice.
"Mark Johnson. Company K, 7th Florida Infantry."
With blurred eyes and a dizzy head I beheld the welcoming presence of a blue angel. My muscles stiffened and I fell at his feet.
"Hold on Johnson. Hold on, the medics are coming."
That's all I needed. Staring up at the blue sky I saw faces looking down on me and, closing my eyes, I knew that Company K had finally made it to Fort King.
 ~Cries_With_Wolves~ · Mon Mar 17, 2008 @ 01:30am · 1 Comments |
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