The Major

"Major?"

The Major jumped at the sound of her voice. He opened his eyes and tried to focus. A dim light barely shone somewhere as he blinked into the near dark. Then she moved towards him and shook him roughly.

"Sir?"

"All right, Sanchez, I'm awake."

"Yes sir. Good morning, sir, it's 0400. Would you like some breakfast?"

"Just coffee, thanks." He said, trying to shake off fatigue. "Quarters for officers and NCO's at 0600, Sanchez."

"Yes sir."

After she left he sat up and probed with his feet to find the floor. He got up and staggered across the cold steel floor of his stateroom. Still trying to shake off sleep, he slowly found the bathroom in the dim light. It used to be easy to get up early years ago, but now he's painfully aware that he's just getting too old for mornings.

By the time he did his morning routine and was nearly dressed, Sanchez was tapping at his door. He sat down in a chair and struggled to pull a boot on. He told her to enter and started to work on the other boot. She entered and stood at attention ten feet away from him, coffee in one hand and a notepad computer in the other.

"At ease, Captain." He said, grabbing the coffee and the notepad.

"Sir!"

He took a sip of coffee, it was black and was strong enough to send a two ton elephant into orbit. Just the way he liked it. He placed the notepad on the table. He touched the screen and scrolled down through the report. Sanchez was at his elbow by then.

"Latest intelligence on the target, sir. Arrived about thirty minutes ago."

"Excellent. Good coffee." He said briskly. Then he paused and turned to face her. He looked strangely at her. She gave him a puzzled look. She was very attractive with dirty blond hair and dark coffee colored eyes. Her high cheek bones hinted at some ancient Mayan blood hiding somewhere in her genes. He sighed heavily, blowing his cheeks out from the effort.

"I had the strangest dream last night..." He said slowly. She listened patiently, not saying a word. "I dreamt that I was on a battlefield somewhere during the civil war. I was wounded, near death. I was brought to the rear by some Confederate soldiers. It....it seemed so real. I mean, there was the sound of artillery and the heat of the day. I felt the pain of the wounds and the hands of the men carrying me."

She was interested now, her eyes had widened slightly.

"That is very interesting, sir. I...I mean, Patton thought that he was Julius Caesar in a previous life." She said rapidly. "It could mean that you had a previous life."

"Don't patronize me, Maria!" He said angrily.

"I'm sorry, sir." She paused. "It was a little far fetched, wasn't it? I mean, for one thing the civil war was some five hundred years ago and suggesting that you were reincarnated from a previous life. If ...if you believe in that stuff."

"Yes, it is a little far fetched...." He said, sighing again. "...and no, I don't believe in 'that stuff'. I guess it's just pre-combat jitters. Forget it."

"Yes, sir. The mission will just be another job well done, sir."

"Yes it will." He said, becoming serious. "We will kick ass and take names or die trying"

"Ooo-bah, sir!." She said, smiling.

"Ooo-bah, Sanchez. Dismissed"

"Sir!"

She snapped to attention briefly and spun around in a sharp about face. Then she strode briskly out. The door closed silently behind her and he was left alone to ponder on his dream. He chose to mentally file it under "diversions" and turned his attention to the intelligence report.

* * *

The door slid quietly open before him and he quickly entered the room. Twenty or so officers and NCO's were talking as he came in. Sanchez saw him and called the meeting to order. A dull thud sounded as they snapped quickly to attention. Sanchez faced him and saluted sharply.

"All battalion officers present and accounted for, sir!"

"Very well, Captain." He returned the salute. "Company! At ease!"

The company relaxed as he glanced over his notepad computer and waited quietly as he gathered his thoughts. He cleared his throat and then looked up from his notes. Sanchez moved off quietly to his left and stood slightly behind him.

"Our target is less than four hours away and thus far, according to the latest intelligence, they don't know that we're coming. Our target is a known terrorist group specializing in attacking defenseless dumb ass civilians on the outer planetary systems. They have stockpiled an impressive collection of nuclear and biological weapons in various locations. Our orders are to take the target out in an expedient and professional manner."

He turned to Sanchez and told her to bring up the 3D graphics link. She moved to a small wall panel and punched several buttons rapidly. A large hologram of a stone castle emerged directly in front of the Major. He walked through the hologram and stood in front of it.

"Unfortunately, our job isn't as easy as my walking through this hologram. This castle was built nearly seven hundred years ago. The material of the castle is not cemented together but actually fused together atomically. This makes the castle nearly indestructible. Therefore we must attack the interior of the structure and take out the people inside. We will do so by employing hand held rocket and grenade launchers.

"All squadrons will co-ordinate their movements with various gunboats acting as artillery. Do not advance on the target until ordered to do so. This must be a smooth operation, these people are just as trained in combat operations as we are. It may seem more than a little bit obvious that they will not be very happy to have us drop in on them."

He got a few laughs on that last sentence. A few "Ooo-bahs" and "Waaahs" arose from the group. Sanchez smiled and chuckled. He cleared his throat again and they fell silent once more.

"We must remember that we are Mobile Infantry and we will do what it takes to get the job done! We do not call ourselves 'Rangers' for anything less than that! We are trained in the latest combat situations and with the latest weapons! We will kick ass and take names or die trying, anything less would be unacceptable! We will not be nameless casualties on a battlefield. We will make nameless casualties on the battlefield instead."

He paused briefly, just long enough to get the desired effect. A few "Ooo-bahs" came from the group. Then he raised his hand and clenched it into a fist.

"Glory for one....!"

"Glory for all!!" The group shouted.

"RANGERS......!!!"

"HO!!" They finished.

"Sanchez...." He turned to leave. "You have the hot seat!"

"Sir!" She snapped a salute. "Attention on deck!"

The group once again stiffened. Sanchez waited until the Major was out the door until she faced them.

"Company! Dismissed!"

The group spun around in an about face, paused briefly, and then broke ranks. They rapidly filed out the door leaving Sanchez to be the last one out.

* * *

The Major was examining a potted plant when the corporal quickly entered, saluted, and stood ten feet away at attention. The Major looked up from his task, straightened, and returned the salute.

"What is it, Corporal?"

"General Morgan on the FTL, sir!"

"Very well!" He said. He motioned towards the plant. "Water that fern, Corporal."

"Sir!"

After the corporal left he went to his desk and punched some buttons on a notepad computer. A 3D image appeared over his desk. It was the Mobile Infantry insignia. Some text appeared next telling him to wait. He waited patiently, Faster Than Light communications took some time to initiate, but he didn't dare break the connection.

A noise came from the other side of the room, it sounded like a cricket. He couldn't believe his ears, after all he was on a starship at least a hundred light-years from Earth. No cricket should here at all! Yet there it was again, it was a cricket!

"Ahem!"

The Major came to attention and snapped a sharp salute. He had failed to notice that the hologram had changed and was replaced by an older black man in a crisp Mobile Infantry uniform. The man's face was wrinkled with a look of impatience.

"Major Wilson reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Wilson, it has been reported to me that your battlegroup has been detected by the enemy. Obviously, this will make your mission much more difficult. Position your troops on the other side of the larger of the planet's two moons, then send your gunboats as a screen for your landing force..."

The cricket chirped again. This time it was louder than before.

"WILSON!"

"Sir!"

"Are you paying attention to me?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Get your head out of your ass and straighten up, trooper! I can't afford to loose your lily white ass to mistakes! Your combat record is the envy of the fleet, you've been decorated so much that your picture is on the front page of Better Homes and Gardens, so don't screw it up now!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Now, because of this change of events, I'm downloading your new orders. Remember that you must ascertain the feasibility of those changes and act accordingly. I can't be there to hold your hand so you'll just have to be a big boy and do it all by yourself! Is that understood, trooper?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Good! Morgan out!"

The general's hologram disappeared abruptly as Major Wilson snapped to attention once again. The cricket sounded again and again. He went on a search and destroy mission to find it. He wandered the room, stopping and listening occasionally. Finally he narrowed it down to the potted plant. He poked his fingers into the dirt and parted the stalks of the plant.

"Major?"

"Well, sir, we are in a field. Crickets do live in fields."

Sure enough they were in an open field. He looked at his companion and found him wearing Confederate gray. Sergeant stripes were emblazoned on his sleeves. He looked down at his own uniform. He was a major in the Confederate States Army. Stunned, he slowly tried to take it all in.

"I...I know it may sound strange to you...." He said, sighing heavily. "....but humor me."

"I....well, yes, maybe it is the heat." He said. "Thank you Sergeant...."

"It's the battlestations alarm, sir."

"Huh....?" The Major sat up in his chair.

He was back in his office aboard the starship Collin Powell. The corporal had just finished watering his potted plant. The room started to lean to starboard as the starship turned right. He stood up and blinked in confusion several times. The corporal gave him a strange look.

"Are you all right sir?"

"Yes, I am! I wish everyone would stop asking me that!" He snapped.

"Sir, yes sir!" The corporal stiffened in reaction.

"Oh, never mind, Corporal. Dismissed!"

"Sir!"

The corporal snapped to attention and about faced quickly. He strode quickly towards the door and it slid open quietly. Sanchez came in and the corporal stood aside at attention to let her by. She came in and the corporal ducked out quickly.

"Sir! We are breaking formation to enter orbit."

"Change of plans, Sanchez. Bring our ships to the far side of the largest moon."

"With all due respect, sir, we should have done that before we broke formation." She said, standing at attention. "Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"

"I know, I know. I was just..." He said throwing up his hands. "Just get it done, Captain!"

"Sir!"

She gave him a concerned look and exited swiftly. As the door closed behind her he sank slowly into his chair. He put his head into his hands and leaned on his desk. He began to develop a severe headache. What is going on here? Is he beginning to lose touch with reality? Is he losing his ability to command? He must keep himself together, if not his troopers will suffer a senseless defeat, or be killed in battle because of his mistakes.

The Corporal stumbled through crew's berthing as if in a fog. Two women were changing into battle fatigues as he walked by. They were both nearly naked. He didn't pay them a bit of attention. He found he way across the room and finally plopped down on a metal bench. A Sergeant was just pulling her shirt on when he sat down.

"Hey, Sarge, I think the Major is loosing his mind!"

"Care to elaborate, Jones?" She said, donning a bullet proof vest. She had a nasty scar on her right cheek, which marred her otherwise pretty face.

"Well, I had told him that General Morgan was on the FTL. He told me to water his plant. So I go get some water and came back. All the time I was there he stared out a window. I guess I was there a couple of minutes." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, anyway, when the battlestation alarm sounded he jumped out of his chair and asked me what that sound was. It was like he'd never heard it before! When I asked him if he was all right he nearly bit my head off! He had the strangest look, like he was lost or something."

"Well, maybe the Major's concerned about the mission." She said. "That doesn't exactly qualify him for the padded room, now does it?"

"No, ma'am, it doesn't." He said slowly.

"Besides, the Major's personal problems are none of your concern, Corporal! Get over it, that's an order." She said as she watched an officer enter berthing. She rolled her eyes and stood up quickly. "Oh, hell! OFFICER ON DECK!!!"

Everyone in berthing jumped to attention. The officer picked his way through several troopers in various stages of dressing. He passed a man who rolled his eyes dramatically. The officer was a beefy asian. Stern faced and very extreme, Lieutenant Ping was not to be messed with. He finally stopped and faced Jones and the sergeant.

"Skomski, Jones." he said with a grim look. He pointed at an overhead speaker. "You know your conversations are being monitored for security reasons. Jones, stow the scuttlebutt about the Major, now."

"Yes sir!" Jones said nervously. "It was just that he was acting a little strangely, sir."

"A little strangely?" he said. He motioned to the room full of troopers. "Look around you, mister. Do you see anybody normal here? Just who in their right mind would travel half way across the galaxy just to fight wars? If my parents had lived to see me right now, they'd disown me. We are Mobile Infantry, mister, it's our job to be a little strange!"

Lt. Ping stepped closer to Jones. He put himself as close to Jones as possible. They were almost nose to nose. Jones stood as still as a statue, knowing full well that if he flinched, the lieutenant would have him for lunch. He glared at Jones for a minute, giving him the full effect of extreme intimidation.

"If I hear any more scuttlebut about the Major from your dumb ass I will personally strap you to this starship's main turbo thruster and open the throttle all the way!" He spat. "And if there are any pieces left of you after that then I will personally hunt them down and incinerate them! Is that understood, trooper?"

"Sir! Yes sir!

"Skomski, you will personally see that the Corporal here gets his head out of his ass and does not become a battlefield casualty!"

"Sir!"

"One more thing, Jones, years ago when I was a screwed up corporal like yourself, I was on the verge of washing out of the Mobile Infantry. But a lieutenant saw a glimmer of hope in my sorry ass and straightened me out. And that lieutenant is now the Major, and I am now the Lieutenant! Get the picture, trooper?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Ping turned to leave, putting on a dramatic show of disgust. He made his way through the room, all the while the troopers were still at attention.

"As you were, troopers!" he barked.

The troopers finally relaxed. A private stared at Jones as she pulled up her pants.

"What are you looking at, trooper?" he asked.

"Nothing, sir!" she answered.

Beethoven's 5th Symphony thundered down the ship's corridors as Sanchez made her way to the Major's stateroom. There were troopers standing around in battle fatigues that snapped to attention at her approach. She strode through, barely acknowledging them, telling them to be at ease. They relaxed as she turned the corner and was out of sight.

The Major was humming along with the music as she approached him. He was fully dressed in battle fatigues. He straightened his bullet proof vest and then donned a helmet happily. He smiled as she stopped and saluted him. He returned the salute and told her to be at ease.

"Looks like a good hunt, Sanchez!!"

"Yes, sir. The personnel boats are ready to be loaded and the gunboats have entered formation."

"Excellent!!" He said as the music slowed dramatically. "Have the men fall out and load up!"

"Sir!" She said and gave a concerned look. "Is everything all right sir?"

"Yes, Sanchez, just a little pre-combat jitters, that's all." He replied, taking a pocket computer out of his shirt pocket. He touched the screen and highlighted a new music selection. "Let's hit the beach, Ranger!"

"Yes, sir!" She spun around and joined him as he strode down the corridor.

Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries dramatic symphony assaulted them as they neared the personnel boats. Troopers everywhere were snapping to attention as they came through. They ignored the men as they talked.

"I watched an old 20th century movie one time where this music blared from the speakers of a gunship as it attacked an enemy village. It had a most profound affect on me." He smiled strangely. "Ever since then I play it whenever we go on a mission."

The troopers were strapping in one by one. Skomski barked orders constantly at her charges. Other troopers were checking their weapons and adjusting their helmets. The Major strapped himself in and watched his troopers carefully. Sanchez consulted a pocket computer briefly and then strapped herself in next to him. The boat's pilot gave a thumb's up and the Major raised his fist up in acknowledgment.

"LET'S HIT THE BEACH, RANGERS!!!" He bellowed.

"RANGERS...." Sanchez joined in.

"HO!!!" Was the trooper's reply. "OOO-BAH!!!"

* * *

A weathered old man of about seventy rapidly ascended the stone steps of a large castle. He reached the top and turned left down a hall. He opened a door at the end of the hall and found himself outside in the cool night air. A slight breeze was blowing sand around in little swirls here and there. He looked out over the dessert that stretched for hundred of miles. Blazing hot during the day, mildly cool during the night.

He approached a group of guards that were standing around talking quietly. A man broke from the group and gave him a notepad computer. Its screen glowed faintly green and illuminated the old man's grizzly face.

"The preliminary perimeter scan has been confirmed, sir." The guard said. "Mobile Infantry ships, possibly a battlegroups' worth. In formation and armed to the hilt."

The older man grimaced and shook his head slowly. He peered at the faces of the group thoughtfully. He cleared his throat loudly and the group stopped talking.

"You people have gathered here, to risk your lives, because you choose to. You are here because you do not want a government to tell you how to live, dress, behave, eat, or sleep. You think your own thoughts, read what you want to read, and say what you want to say. You believe that citizenship comes not by mandatory military service but from being an inhabitant of the region you were born in.

"If those ideals are so strictly forbidden then we are indeed a treacherous lot, aren't we? We rebel against a totalitarian government whose tentacles reach every facet of society, whether that facet be large or small, public or private. We rebel to not become a mere number in the great number crunching machine we call the federal government.

"Once again, the government, in its infinite wisdom, has dispatched its troops to beat us into submission. This reminds me of a very similar situation that occurred nearly 500 years ago. In the civil war of what was then The United States of America. The "rebels" thought that the government back then was too intrusive and decided to act accordingly. Later, the war became a moral issue that changed the very ideals that the combatants had fought for. The abolition of the institution of slavery and not the preservation of the Union became the primary vehicle of the war. Centuries later the civil war still rubs raw the unhealing wounds of racial intolerance, hatred, and mistrust."

The old man paused to let this sink in to their heads.

"The vehicle of our war is freedom. We are fighting for the abolition of our slavery. We are fighting to break the chains of government intrusiveness and its cancer of bureaucracy. We are fighting to regain all of the freedoms that our ancestors had fought and died for. Those freedoms have been slowly eroded away through the centuries to appease a vocal and controlling group of individuals who think that government and religion should provide all the guidance of its citizenship. We fight to provide our own guidance and..."

"Commodore! They have landed!" A woman shouted suddenly. She pulled off a headset, folded it up, and put it into her pocket. "They have very high frequency, scrambled digital communications..."

"Damn!" The Commodore spat.

"I'm sorry sir!" She said.

"People, the government sent us their best." The Commodore said with clenched fists. "They sent my son---Major John Calhoun Wilson, Jr.---with his Rangers! Good luck to all of you, happy hunting."

A sergeant ran to his station. He plopped down beside an asian woman checking her weapon. She looked up at him and blew a bubble of chewing gum. The bubble popped loudly. She removed it from her chin, wadded it up into a ball, and plastered it against her helmet.

"Rangers, huh?"

"Yeppers, girlfriend!"

"Sounds like fun, Sarge!"

"Oh, yeah, lots of fun!"

The Commodore looked off over the desert as the sun slowly appeared over the horizon. He slapped his thigh angrily and turned to an officer consulting a notepad computer.

"Activate the robot sentries, Commander!" He ordered. "Put on some battlefield music. Let's let them know we're here!"

The commander nodded and touched the notepad's screen. Within minutes a Schubert sonata sounded from the castle's speakers. The music blared loudly enough to be heard perhaps miles away.

* * *

The Major crouched behind a rock outcrop, Sanchez was to his right about ten yards away behind a low sand dune. The Major's knee was buried in the sand at the rock's base. He peered through a split in the rock that divided it in two clumps. He looked at the castle through a pair of binoculars.

Then he stared at Sanchez until she looked his way. He held up two fingers and moved them back and forth. Then he pointed at the castle and made a waving motion over his head. Sanchez understood and left the dune in search of a rocket launcher. She had moved on to another low dune and found two troopers with one in their hands.

"Pettigrew, Cooper, you're with me."

"Ma'am!"

The three went to a dune that was a few yards behind the Major. Sanchez estimated the distance and told Pettigrew to lock and load. Pettigrew swung the launcher to her shoulder as Cooper readied the rocket. He dropped it down the launcher's barrel and tapped her on her helmet. A series of beeps came from the launcher as a cross hair armature swung out to sight the target. She squeezed the trigger slowly, the beeps became a steady tone. Then she jerked the trigger.

The rocket left the barrel with a deafening roar. It arched up into the air, looped down over the castle's wall, and disappeared from sight. An instant later a bright flash came from the interior of the castle and a muffled explosion rattled the dunes. Debris blasted from the interior slowly drifted down from the walls of the castle.

"RANGERS, HO!!!!"

The Major stood up and waved slowly, bellowing the command to move forward. A line of troopers rose and advanced over a sand dune. They advanced rapidly and commenced firing in short, rapid bursts. They gained considerable ground and neared the base of the castle's walls. They stopped abruptly as a line of enemy soldiers rose from a hidden trench. The enemy returned fire, the troopers dropped to form a skirmish line. A fierce gunfight erupted briefly. The troopers fell back shooting and dragged their wounded with them.

* * *

From behind a sand dune Skomski and Jones watched in horror as their comrades retreated from the enemy. A large explosion erupted near the enemy's trenches as the gunboats announced their presence. Under the cover of the artillery barrage the troopers fell back to the safety of the dunes. Skomski and Jones high fived each other in triumph.

Skomski started chatting on her headset as Jones peered though a pair of binoculars. He named off several targets for the gunboats and Skomski relayed it to the gunboats. Several explosions rocked the battlefield as the gunners found their marks.

Jones heard a faint buzzing to his right and turned towards the sound. He saw a silver cylinder rise from the sand a few feet away. He felt a pang of fear as the top three feet of the object split open and revealed a gun barrel that was starting to swing up slowly. He yelled and pulled Skomski to him. They both fell down and rolled together out the barrel's line of sight. The barrel swung around to find them and they separated to make two different targets for it. It shot at Jones and he rolled again. Skomski brought up her weapon and fired. The cylinder fell apart as she blasted away. Jones joined her with his weapon and together they destroyed the thing.

"What the hell was that?" Jones shouted.

"A robot sentry. A real nasty thing to have against you." Skomski replied. She tapped her headset lightly. "Major Wilson, this is Skomski, they have robot sentries, I say again, they have robot sentries. Do you read me, sir?"

* * *

"Yes, I read you, Skomski." The Major said, poking his headset closer to his ear. The gunboats were blasting away at the battlefield in front of him. "Nicely done, Sergeant!"

He turned to a trooper to his right and grabbed the man's arm.

"Paxton, get on the perimeter scan and find those robot sentries!"

"Sir!"

Paxton ran off to another dune and started to work a perimeter scanner. He soon found several and relayed their positions to the gunboats. The explosions on the battlefield became more sporadic as one by one the sentries were found.

"Paxton! Start scanning for mobile sentries also!" The Major bellowed through the explosions. Apparently Paxton didn't hear him so he tried his headset. "Paxton, do you read me? PAX-TON!!!"

"Yes sir, Major!" Paxton answered from behind him.

The Major turned and then realized that he was back at Gettysburg again. His cousin Clem had answered him. They were at the edge of a stand of trees. The Major was sitting on a tree stump. He stood up at Clem's approach. Clem swung his leg up and put his foot on the stump.

"Not again!" The Major said, disgusted.

"What do you mean in the open...." He said, ducking from a near explosion. "...and how did you get here?"

"What do you mean, sir? You're within range of the castle walls!!"

"Castle walls..."

He was back in the dessert again nearly five hundred years in time and nearly a hundred light years in distance from were he was just a minute ago. He looked around him and looked at Sanchez strangely. Then he shook his head several times.

"Are you wounded, sir?

"No, Sanchez, I'm not." He said slowly. "This may sound a little strange to you but I have just realized something. You should never take for granted the reality that you perceive as true."

"What?" Sanchez exclaimed. She looked deep into his eyes and then studied his face for a moment. He seemed a bit distant to her, as if he was in a deep trance. "Major, request permission to take the hot seat!"

The Major looked around him again and rubbed his hands together. He licked his lips slowly. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head some more.

"SIR!"

"Negative, Sanchez, I am still in command here!"

"Then do something, Major!!!"

"All right..." He said and nodded. " Let's go!"

"This way, sir!"

He followed close behind her for a few yards as they ran clear of bomb craters and the bodies of their fallen comrades. He saw that the battle was going badly for them, hardly any of the bodies he avoided were the enemy. When they ran about twenty yards the sand started to puff up around them. Sanchez realized that they were being shot at so she stopped and swung her weapon up. She turned and shot at something high over their heads.

"Let's get out of here!" She turned and ran towards a sand dune.

He turned to follow but was stopped by the sight of a silver cylinder rising from the sand. He slowly realized that the object was a robot sentry and lunged towards the dune. The sand puffed up around him, the bullets tracing a line towards him. It was too late. He had moved too slowly. He had been hit. He tumbled forward onto the sand.

"JOHN!!!" Sanchez screamed.

Pettigrew appeared at her elbow and commenced to destroy the robot with her weapon. Sanchez leaped to grab the Major and pull him to the safety of the dune. Another trooper came to help her and they both dragged him to the dune. Pettigrew bellowed for a medic as Sanchez and the other trooper rolled the Major onto his back.

Blood bubbled from the Major's lips as he let out a moan. The medic finally arrived and dropped down beside the Major. He went over the Major's wounds with a portable MRI scanning device. Then he sighed loudly and looked Sanchez straight in the eye.

"He's not going to make it, ma'am." He said. "If he had worn his bullet proof vest..."

Sanchez gritted her teeth, Pettigrew fought back a tear, and a nearby trooper clenched his fists. The medic was called for again and he looked at Sanchez.

"Go!" Sanchez said.

"Ma'am!"

After the medic left she bent down to examine the Major. She pulled off his helmet and then his head set. She gingerly touched his chest. He moaned in agony.

"He did have his vest on, Captain." An officer said from behind her. It was Lt. Ping. His face was bloodied and dirty. "I saw it myself."

"So did I, Lieutanant."

Through a haze of pain the Major watched them gather around him. He saw their faces one by one and recognized their undying loyalty to him even up to his own death. In his mind he heard the angelic chorus of the final movements of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. It was if grand old Beethoven himself was beckoning him to join the dead. The sounds of the battle faded away slowly as the chorus grew louder and then gradually faded away.

"MAJOR!!!"

Clem bellowed at the still form lying in the grass. He grabbed the Major's shoulder and turned him face up. Blood splattered from the Major's lips as he let out a low moan. Clem looked around and found two able men walking towards him. He waved at them frantically.

July 5th, 1863

To John Wilson, Sr.; Commodore, USN (Ret.)

Dear sir:

It is with great sadness, dear uncle, that I write to you. As you have heard by now, the army of Northern Virginia has recently fought a great battle at Gettysburg. Sadly your son, my cousin, died of wounds he had received on the field of battle. He fought bravely that day, though under a cloud of confusion due to the heat. He did not shame your family's name or mine. He was a soldier to the very end, bravely facing death without remorse.

I stayed with him to the end. His last,noble words spoken on earth stirred me in a most peculiar way and I wrote them down to better remember them. They were something I have never heard him say before, but what one says with their last breath can only be described as a vision of the hereafter. He said: "Glory for one, Glory for all!"

Norman Hess is 39 and works as a technical support personnel in Cartersville, Georgia. He is currently attending a techical school pursuing a career in computer networking,

E-mail: rothise@yahoo.com

URL:

Visit Aphelion's Lettercolumn and voice your opinion of this story. Both the writer and I would love to read your feedback.

Return to the Aphelion main page.