This story was inspired by a documentary that I watched about the Civil War, and still watch from time to time. This story is not very long, and describes an event that, although is fiction, may have happened at one time during the tail end of that war.
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B. C. Halving was a soldier in the Union army. He had seen many terrible battles throughout his time in the army, and the worst came during the last few months of the war. The young private was tired.
The North had won the War Between the States, and his regiment had been dispatched to return to their homes.
No sooner had their commanding officer given them the news and having had dismissed them, that many of the soldiers raced back to their bunks to collect their things. Some of them served for a few weeks, and others as long as a year or more.
B. C. Halving had served two years and seventeen days when the war was finally declared over.
Now it was early June, 1861, and he was heading back home, home to his wife, his two sons and his daughter. He longed to see his farm back in Ohio, his horses, cows and his lambs and the mountains that stretched across the western horizon.
B. C. Halving was truly exhausted.
He set out with a group of fellow soldiers, soldiers who had also seen the horrors of war and who, like he, were eager to return home to live out a quiet life with their families, or start families of their own.
As they traveled along, one by one, some went off in their own separate directions.
Most of the men lived in different states, and the company grew smaller as the days passed. By the seventeenth evening of his long trip back to Ohio, he was alone. B. C. Halving set camp under the stars.
The sounds of insects filled the air, and lone wolves howled at the moon in the far distance places.
He put his pack and propped his rifle onto a nearby boulder and spread his blanket across the ground. He satisfied his hunger with a ration of salt pork, some bread and a few gulps of water by the fire, and lay down for the night.
He unbuckled his knife sheath. It was empty. Looking up at the stars, he started thinking back at all that he and the others had experienced on a wooden bridge in Pennsylvania in the last few weeks of the war.
He fumbled with the knife sheath, and started to think.
Two months before, Benjamin C. Halving was in Pennsylvania.
He and his fellow soldiers had just lost their commanding officer in a raid conducted by a man that they only knew as a Willis Younger. Major Willis Younger was from Louisiana, and a staunch confederate supporter.
He, like his father and grandfather before him, had become wealthy from tobacco and sugar, and he was sternly opposed to Lincoln. Younger enlisted in the confederate army and quickly rose in rank in the time that he served.
During the war, he gained the reputation of being fearless because of the fact that he himself would volunteer for especially dangerous assignments. In time, his subordinates and compatriots called him names like “the invincible” and “the fearless major”.
With all of the accolades, he began to believe that he was truly invincible. He began to bask in the light of his new fame.
For more than a year, Willis Younger, “the invincible”, led successful raids and received favorable mentions from his superiors for it. He was instrumental in thwarting many secret weapon and supply wagons that would have reinforced his enemies.
He couldn’t allow that.
It was April 2, 1861, and B. C. Halving was in Pennsylvania. The regiment was ordered to protect a bridge that was later to be used by Union troops on their long road to Gettysburg.
B. C. Halving, as well as the others in the regiment knew that without that bridge, the Union soldiers, and their cannons would not make it to Gettysburg on schedule.
The sky was dark for being three in the afternoon, and rain began to fall hard. B. C. Halving’s regiment, led by Captain Allen, waited in the pouring rain for sign of Confederate resistance.
The regiment waited for hours, and the rain seemed to fall harder as time went on.
B. C. Halving sat at the end of the wooden bridge, in the rain. He unsheathed his knife, and started to carve out his name on a plank of rotting wood.
“My bridge,” he said silently to himself.
Suddenly, a regiment of Confederate, led by Major Younger, the invincible, and undoubtedly sent to destroy the bridge, noticed Allen’s troops, and engaged them in battle. The conflict was hard and especially violent.
In the fourth hour of fighting, the regiment lost Captain Allen, and by then, most of its troops.
Private B. C. Halving, along with the remaining soldiers of the regiment, fought hard to protect the bridge from the confederates.
When the confederates realized that most of their opposition was gone, Younger “the invincible” decided to rush them, and he led the charge, followed by his lieutenant and his confident troops.
B. C. Halving knew that they wouldn’t stand a chance against the thirty remaining confederates and their infamous commander. He decided to face Younger “the invincible” on his own.
The last remaining members of the Union regiment watched in awe as Private Benjamin C. Halving took his rifle and walked out in the open, in front of the advancing confederate troops.
Younger “the invincible” noticed the young private making his stand against his men and signaled them to fall back. He wiped the rain from his brow and grinned.
In an instant, Younger “the invincible”, in order to impress on his soldiers his reputation, decided to face the Private himself. “By defeating this Private, my troops will exalt me even more, after all I am invincible,” he thought to himself.
The bulky Major walked confidently through the rain, towards the Union soldier.
They fought first with rifles from a distance, both of which missed, then with knives.
Younger “the invincible” swung, becoming more agitated as to not having defeated the Private quickly in front of his men.
To save face, he foolishly lunged at the Private to finish him, but B. C. Halving was an expert with the knife. B. C. Halving dodged Younger “the invincible” again and again, finally seeing his opening, struck Younger “the invincible” in his right side.
The confederate staggered in the heavy rain. Again, Younger lunged forward, and again was struck by B. C. Halving’s knife in the same side.
Younger “the invincible” clutched his side and staggered back. He looked down in disbelief, and noticed the blood on his right hand.
Again he charged at the young private.
Again Younger “the invincible” was struck, but this time, B. C. Halving’s knife struck him in the chest. The blade broke away from the force.
Neither man looked to see the knife handle fall onto the wooden bridge, but they clearly heard it amidst the rain and thunder.
Younger “the invincible” took two steps back.
He staggered as he turned to face his men. He turned back to face the young private.
Younger “the invincible” fell back, breaking through the rotting timber of the old bridge and plunged into the dark water several yards below.
Private B. C. Halving stood in the middle of the bridge, facing the remaining confederate soldiers, while a lieutenant, who now led the confederates, and his men stared back in disbelief.
“This man who was unbeatable and survived many a dangerous assignment, was now being carried away by the currents of an unnamed river, and put there by a lowly Private,” the lieutenant thought to himself.
They believed that Major Younger was indeed invincible because his reputation said so, and that since Major Younger of the confederate army could not be defeated, then some of that invincibility had to have passed onto them.
But, Younger “the invincible” was gone, and the confederates stood confused and in astonishment.
One by one they turned and disappeared into the darkness, until the Confederate lieutenant was left alone with Private B. C. Halving.
The lieutenant turned and slowly walked away, disappearing in the dark and heavy rain.
B. C. Halving and the last of the regiment waited on that bridge until daybreak when Union reinforcements arrived and passed onto Gettysburg.
In a few days time, B. C. Halving and the other soldiers that had been on that bridge that hight, received word of the terrible battle that took place at Gettysburg, and that the Union had been victorious.
B. C. Halving woke the following morning and packed his belongings. He brushed dirt over the smoldering embers of his fire. He noticed the empty sheath on the ground, and picked it up.
After a few moments, he dropped the empty sheath, and set out for the rest of his long journey.
The sun shone brightly as he came across a familiar wooden post. It was a corner post to a fence that he had built years before the war. Soon he saw smoke coming from the chimney of his home on the Ohio plains.
As he reached his farm, he was greeted by his faithful dog, and then by his children as they ran through the wheat field towards him, then finally he saw his wife standing at the doorway of their home, his home.
A smile crossed his face that hadn’t been there for a very long time.
His long tribulation was finally over and he knew that he would never have leave his family again. He dropped his belongings on the porch and went inside with his family, to eat, to talk, to laugh to live.
B. C. Halving shut the door behind him. He was home.
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