Captain Jinks, Hero by Ernest Howard Crosby (story read aloud txt) 📕

“A bullet’s just hit him in the head,” said one of the men. “I’m glad it wasn’t me.”

One of the doctors looked at the wounded man.

“He’s dead,” he said. “Damn you, what do you mean by bringing dead men here?”

The two bearers took up their load again and dropped it out of sight in the bushes. Sam did not like to interrupt the doctors, who were overtasked, so he dismounted and tried to find a wounded man well enough to answer his questions. One man at the end of the row looked less pale than the rest, and he asked him where he could find the 43d.

“That’s my regiment, sir,” he replied, as a twig, cut off by a bullet, fell on his face. “You’d better lie down here, sir; you’ll be shot if you don’t. A lot of the wounded have been hit here again.”

Sam sat down by his side.

“Our regiment is over that way,” he said, pointing in the direction of the firing. “I don’t know where the colonel is. We haven’t seen him for hours. The lieutenant-colonel is down with fever. I think the major’s in command. You ought to find him at the front. We’ve been falling back, and the firing sounds nearer than it did. I’m afraid the enemy will catch us here.”

Sam did not wait to hear anything further, but, leaving his horse tied to a tree, he ran toward the front. He found many soldiers skulking along the path, and they directed him to the major. He discovered him sitting on the ground behind a stone wall.

“Here, major, are your orders. I understand you’re in command.”

“Not much,” said the major. “The colonel’s in command. You’d better find him.”

“Where is he?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since six o’clock.”

“But this is your regiment, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes. It’s part of it.”

Just then a young captain came running up from the front, and cried out to his major:

“Major, we’re having a hard time of it there. Won’t you come up and take charge? I’m afraid they’ll force us back.”

“No,” said the major, “I won’t. I’m going back there to that last village. It’s a much better place to defend. Besides I’m not feeling well. You fellows can stay here if you like. I shan’t order the regiment back, but I’ll go back and get ready for them there. We ought to have trenches there, you know,” and he got up and walked rapidly off down the road. The captain turned to Sam.

“I beg your pardon, captain,” said he, “but what are we to do? Our officers have given out, and we’re a new regiment and haven’t any experience. Won’t you take command?”

Sam was by no means satisfied in his mind that he would behave much better than the major, but here was an opportunity that he could not afford to lose.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said he. “Let’s see what the orders are.”

He opened the document and saw that it was a direction to keep on to the front until they arrived before the town of San Diego, which they were to assault and capture.

“Show me where your men are,” said Sam. “Who have you got there?”

“We’ve got our own regiment, the 43rd, and six or eight companies of the 72nd⁠—I don’t know where they came from; and then there’s a battery, and perhaps some others.”

They hastened along the road together, urging the stragglers to join them, which many of them did. The way became more and more encumbered with men, and the bullets came thicker. Sam was thoroughly scared. He could feel his legs waver at the knee, and it seemed as if a giant hand had grasped him by the spine. They passed several musicians of the band.

“Start up a tune!” cried Sam. “Play something and follow us.” At the same time he instinctively thrust his hand into his breast pocket and felt for his traveling Lares and Penates, namely, his tin soldier, his photographs of East Point, one of Marian, and her last letter. Meanwhile the band began to play and the bass-drummer wielded his huge drumstick with all his might. Sam began to feel happier, and so did the men about him. One of the musicians suddenly fell, struck dead by a bullet, and just then a shell burst over them and two or three men went down. With one accord the soldiers began to curse and swear in the most frightful manner and to insist on speedy vengeance. Sam was surprised to find himself enjoying the oaths. They just expressed his feelings, and he hurried on to the edge of the woods. In front of them they saw a line of their own men lying on the ground behind stones and logs, shooting at the enemy, whose line could be distinguished hardly more than a third of a mile away.

“They’re nearer than they were,” whispered the captain. “We must push them back or they’ll have us. The men on the firing line are getting scared.”

“We must scare them behind more than the enemy does in front,” said Sam, drawing his revolver. “Here you, sir, get back into your place.”

A man in the ranks, who was beginning to creep back, saw the revolver and dropped back in his position with an oath.

“Forward!” cried Sam, now thoroughly in the spirit of the occasion. “Come up to the front, all of you, and extend our line there to the right. Lie down and take careful aim with every shot.”

The men did as they were told, and Sam took up his position behind the line with the captain, both of them standing in a perfect gale of bullets, while all the rest were lying down.

“Lie down,” said Sam to the captain. “You’ve no business to risk your life like that.”

“How about yours, sir?” said the captain, as he obeyed.

“I’ll take care of myself, if you’ll be good enough to let me,” answered Sam.

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