Soldier's Heart Read Online Free PDF

them and kill them all, each and every Rebel’s son of them. Not one would be able to get up. Not one. Kill them all.
    Before they could kill
him
.
    He was out of himself, beside himself, an animal, and it is difficult to say how far he would have gone; certainly he would have caught up with them and since he was nearly alone, and would have been alone when he did so, he would have been killed. But one of the sergeants stuck the butt of his rifle between Charley’s ankles and brought him down.
    â€œBetter hold up there, gamecock—you can’t take the whole Rebel army. Besides, they don’t want any more of you. Let them go.”
    Charley sat on the ground, still snarling, watching the retreating Rebels. “We have to kill them.…”
    â€œYou’ll get another chance,” the sergeantsaid, smiling. “Now re-form and let’s get a line fixed again.” He turned away and yelled at the other men. “On me—line-of-battle! Form line-of-battle!”
    Charley got up and reloaded his rifle. The Rebels had gotten back into the trees and were firing, sniping at the Union lines, but the bullets all went high.
    â€œWithdraw!” the sergeant yelled. “In formation, in good order, withdraw!”
    They moved back across the field and had gone perhaps forty paces when Charley saw Nelson.
    He was sitting on the ground, one hand holding his stomach. Charley broke rank and went to kneel beside him.
    â€œWhere are you hit?” He already knew the answer. Blood and other matter slid through Nelson’s fingers onto the ground.
    â€œBelly,” Nelson said. “I got me a belly wound. Wouldn’t you know it? First fight and Iget me a belly wound.” He gasped the words. The pain was already making it hard for him to breathe and Charley knew the real pain hadn’t truly started yet.
    â€œYou’ll be fine,” Charley said. “The ambulance will come here and get you and you’ll be back in Minnesota in no time—”
    â€œDon’t,” Nelson said through his teeth. “Don’t lie. They don’t pick up men with belly wounds and you know it. They’ll give me some water and leave me to die.”
    Charley didn’t say anything but knew it was true. Stomach wounds were fatal. The surgeons could do nothing. The ambulance drivers would go through the wounded—when and if they got to the field—and jerk shirts up checking for stomach wounds. Those soldiers would be left. The surgeons were too busy with amputations and treatable injuries to spend time on those with stomach wounds.
    It was an agonizingly slow death—it mighttake two days—and the pain left men screaming until they were too hoarse to make another sound.
    â€œI don’t want to die like this,” Nelson said. “Just laying here waiting for it …”
    Charley didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say.
    â€œLoad my rifle, will you, Charley? I fired it just as I was hit. Load it for me just in case the Rebs come back, will you?”
    Charley hesitated, then nodded and picked up Nelson’s rifle, tore a cartridge off with his teeth, poured the powder down the bore and settled the bullet on the powder.
    â€œDon’t forget the cap, Charley. Seat the cap good.”
    Charley pinched a cap and set it on the nipple, pushing it down tightly with his thumb. He put the hammer on half cock.
    â€œJust put the rifle next to me, with the butt down by my foot. Yes, like that. Now cock thehammer, will you? Thank you. That’s right kind of you, Charley. Just one more thing. I can’t reach down to my foot and there’s a powerful itch on my right foot. Would you take my shoe off before you go so I can scratch it?”
    Charley unlaced the shoe and pulled it off. The foot was white, so white it looked like marble, as if it wasn’t alive. Well, he thought, soon enough.
    â€œI got me a letter back in my