Men of War by William R. Forstchen Read Free Book Online

fear. But there are moments, the quiet nights, the army encamped around you, the moment of relief when you know you’ve won, the pride in the eyes of those around you.”
    Surprised Hans looked over at him and nodded. “If this is the last campaign, what becomes of us then?”
    Andrew chuckled softly. “I wish.”
    “Your instinct is telling you don’t attack this morning, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then listen to it.”
    Andrew sighed, “We’ve been over it before, Hans. We can’t flank, we can’t break out from the southern pocket, they won’t attack. We have to end the stalemate. The president ordered this assault. And remember, we planned this one, and all the time we planned it we figured we could pull it off.”
    “So why the cold feet at this last minute?” Hans asked. Andrew looked at his friend.
    “You first. Why you?”
    Hans sighed. “Gut feeling that they’re on to us over there. That this is what they want us to do and fully expect us to do.”
    Andrew plucked up another twist of grass, taking pleasure in the scent of sage.
    “There are no alternatives now,” Andrew said.
    “What Vincent suggested, it is a thought.”
    Andrew shook his head.
    “Maybe six months from now, with four times the amount of equipment to even hope that it’d work. Right now it would be nothing more than a mad suicidal gesture. Vincent’s dreaming if he thinks we could deliver the killing blow that way. There simply isn’t enough to do it.”
    “It’s because you know I would do it—that I’d have to go. That’s what’s stopping you from considering it.” Andrew looked over at his friend in the shadows. “Hans,” and he hesitated for a moment, “if I thought that sacrificing you would end this war, would save your child, my children, I’d have to order it.”
    Hans laughed softly.
    “I’m not sure if you’re just a damn good liar or you really mean that. Strange though, I do hope you’re not lying. We’re soldiers, Andrew, we all know what the job means, and I hope that from the beginning I taught you the sacrifice required of command, even when it comes to your closest friend.”
    “I sacrificed my brother, didn’t I?”
    Hans said nothing in reply.
    Andrew dropped the fistful of grass, reached out, and let his hand rest on Hans’s shoulder for a moment, then shyly let it fall away.
    “So why the butterflies in your stomach now?” Hans asked, shifting the subject.
    “I’m not sure, and that’s what troubles me. At Cold Harbor I knew it was suicide but I went in because it was an order. I knew if I refused they’d take the Thirty-Fifth from me and the boys would have to go anyhow. I saw Chamberlain do the same damn thing two weeks later at Petersburg. He knew it was senseless, but he led his brigade in anyhow.”
    “And he damn near got killed doing it if I remember correct.”
    Andrew nodded. “It’s just that this battle is different. Most all of them were either meeting engagements like Rocky Hill, or we were on the defensive and well dug in, like Hispania or Suzdal. Now they’re the ones dug in, and you’re right, I have to assume that Jurak has this one figured.
    “It’s more than that though. We both know we’re all but finished. Its becoming evident that Jurak is outproducing us. You saw those reports Bill Webster sent us from the Treasury and Vincent from the Ordnance Department.”
    Hans spat a stream of tobacco juice and grunted.
    “They’d change their song if the Bantag were at the gate.”
    Andrew shook his head.
    “We’re running out, Hans. The pace of production, it’s exhausted the nation. The same thing we saw with the rebs by the autumn of ’64. There are too many supply bottlenecks, too many men in the army, too many people making weapons, not enough making the basics for living, and a millton people from Roum driven off the land. In short, we’re collapsing. ”
    “And that’s your reason for attacking here and now?”
    Andrew leaned forward, resting