Itinerant Chronicler

Rally

I had to search out General Ennis after I caught word of his exploits. I traveled to his home and he graciously accepted me a stranger into his home. We talked for a long time. The conversation did not end until his wife had long gone to bed. When the retired General told me his true feelings I had to resist the urge not slap him on the back of the head. I believe he only thought I was impressed that he manages to snag a victory from should have a disaster, but no. What impressed me the most was his remorse over the loss of so many men, even after all these years.

Captain Ennis walked through the encampment heading for the command tent. He ignored the wide eyed stares he got from his comrades in arms with stony silence. Most of the gawkers were of lower rank and he could have berated them for their disrespect, but he couldn't blame them. He was not a man who deserved any respect.

His dented breast plate was caked with dirt and spattered with blood from both friend and foe. The seasoned and weathered warrior had been called to the general's tent to confer on the outcome of the battle. Amazingly it had ended in a victory, no thanks to him.

His command had been responsible for guarding the army's left flank. The very flank the enemy hit the hardest. Most of his top lieutenants were killed early in the battle and he was left with much less experienced and jittery officers. Ennis barked orders to them and they obeyed, fighting with all their might.

From his vantage point Ennis could see the chaos as it unfold before him. His men fought longer and harder than he could ever have hoped. He thought of each and every one of them as nothing less than heroes. The onslaught was the worst he had ever seen so far in the war. Despite all odds his men were somehow holding the line. It was then Ennis gave a fateful order.

Disaster struck, suddenly a hole got punched in his line, all because Ennis had spread it too thin in a key position and the enemy exploited his mistake. Knowing death was about to greet him Captain Ennis drew his weapon and along with his aids rode directly into the breach. As Ennis hacked and slashed furiously through his enemy from atop his warhorse he barked commands to his soldiers and his remaining officers trying to rally them.

All Ennis could see were his men being cut down all around him. Amidst all the death he nearly called for a retreat despite the fact it would have meant the collapse of the flank which would likely have collapsed the entire line and turned the battle into a rout. Then something miraculous happened. His men rallied around him and together they pushed the breach back and even mounted their own counterattack.

In the bloody end his troops won out along with the rest of the army, but the cost had been staggering. Ennis had lost half of his command, half. Included in that were nearly all of his officers. He learned of the sickening figure when he went to the medic tents where the clerics were tending to the wounded; of which there were too many to count.

Ennis cursed his own incompetence as well as his own survival. He firmly believed he should be out there on the field where his men had paid the price for his blunder. The Captain even considered running himself through with his own sword, but he refrained. What kind of example would that set for his men? He had already failed them enough.

The clerics tried to console him by reminding him that the day ended in victory and that his men did not sacrifice their lives in vane, but those words sounded so hollow. Captain Ennis would not listen. He fully expected a court martial and then a slow execution after such a disaster. It was then that he received the summons from the general.

Ennis departed immediately for the command tent without even bothering to clean himself up from battle as would be customary. He could have stolen the time to do so, the general was a reasonable and just man and would have understood, but Ennis felt it only fair the General saw him for the failure he was.