"He got it off a dead Frenchman," Armistead said, stepping up beside Pickett.

Longstreet raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Hey, Lo."

"I did not either get it off a dead Frenchman," Pickett retorted. "I bought it in a store in Richmond with Sallie. It did have a French name, now that I think on it, but Miss Corbell likes it." He nodded.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Longstreet remembered. "Colonel Fremantle?" he called to their guest. "Allow me to introduce Major General George Pickett. General Pickett, Lt. Col. Arthur Fremantle of Her Majesty's venerable and elite Coldstream Guards. Britain's military attaché to the Confederacy and you might say, the eyes and ears of Queen Victoria."

Armistead didn't say anything else, looked at Pickett with slight amusement. He then turned and looked at Fremantle.

"Oh hardly sir, I am only an observer. And your humble guest."He smiled, extended a hand in greeting, pleased to be meeting so many people in a day.

July 5

Lee sighed and stared at the status report, felt a familiar sinking feeling as he read the tallied losses. Why? He shook his head slowly, sadly. Seemed that His will was often so...blurred, and when...When one tried to follow it, they didn't always succeed...

He folded the map and various papers and put them in his pocket, felt his hands prickling with discomfort.

Longstreet stepped through the camp that was quickly being taken down, made ready to move. He stopped outside Lee's tent. "Sir?" he called softly, not wanting to disturb his general.

"Come in, General." He nodded to him.

Longstreet stepped inside, removing his hat. "We're almost ready to move, sir," he said quietly. "The boys at the hospital should be ready soon."

He nodded again, swallowed. "...It could have been prevented...This could have been prevented."

Longstreet nodded silently. He'd known the attack had been doomed, had tried to warn Lee. But the old man had been proud, too proud. He refrained from speaking aloud. No need to compound the guilt now... He sighed slowly, looking at the grass near his boots.

He was silent. "It's...I had been warned." He finally forced it out, felt a deep unsettlement rushing through his veins and tinging his thoughts, too depressed to be humiliated at this point as he admitted his shortcomings.

Longstreet nodded, not looking at Lee. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. He knew how hard it was for Lee. He'd been so sure he was right... And they had lost so much.

"...Thank you, Pete." He swallowed, "...For trying. For trying to warn me."

Longstreet looked up, saw the pain in Lee's face. "General..." He reached out to touch Lee's shoulder, stopped himself. It hurt to see his general like this, so... dared he think it? Weakened.

"...It's not your fault, Pete...It's...." He was silent, unable to continue.

"Sir?" Longstreet asked softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head. "...No."He closed his eyes for a long moment.

Longstreet nodded slowly, looking down again. "We're almost ready to move," he repeated quietly. "What are your orders, sir?"

He swallowed, silent, almost unable to follow. "...Depart through Fairfield. we should be able to cross the Montery Pass."

Longstreet nodded. Through Maryland. "The Federals will most likely pursue us. We will probably be engaged again, sir."

((From Confederate Hospital))

Curtis stumbled back into the camp and headed towards his tent, stumbling a few times on his way.

He nodded, sighed. The last thing they needed were more losses, once more his fault. "..That is inevitable..."

..

Reginald hurried after Curtis, frowning. "That was crazy! You could've been killed!"

Longstreet drew in a slow breath, but nodded silently, not knowing what to say.

"I wasn't," Curtis said simply, looking at her.

Lee sighed. "...I should have listened to you, General." The words seemed so incredibly difficult to say, yet were a weight off of his shoulders.

..

"YEah. You just feel at least three times, busted your head, and nearly got stabbed." She rolled her eyes, snorted.

Curtis shrugged. "I'm alright though."

"...youre bleeding. And if you pass out again, I'm not helping you." She folded her arms.

Longstreet nodded in acknowledgement. "Sir, we must focus our energies on saving what we can of our army," he said quietly, gently. "There will be time to mourn later."

He nodded, felt the pain in his hands returning again. "You're right. We'll get through this yet."

Longstreet straightened, looked at Lee again. "Yes, sir." He felt a sudden rush of gratitude to have Lee as their commander.

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