AUTHOR'S NOTE Sorry this is short, but it was a short story!
Time moved like a dream. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Smoke filled the air as a clear voice rang through the trees.
As if watching ghosts, I stared through the smoke of battle. There below me, in the face of an advancing enemy, an entire regiment acted as one. Bayonets were fixed and time slowed almost to a stop.
Then, a single figure stepped to the front. Sword brandished high, he called out to his men. "Charge!" And at that moment, I knew that hope remained.
A single blue wave washed down the hillside, sweeping away those boys in gray. Our flag, the American flag, was victorious. Whoever that man was, he earned my unconditional respect in that one moment.
"The schoolteacher did it," someone whispered behind me. The whole 44th New York had gathered where the Colonel and I stood. We all watched, transfixed, as the fishermen and lumberjacks of Maine overtook the Rebs that continued up the hill.
I have no idea how long the charge took. I just watched. Then it was over. Colonel Rice left us and headed for the man who'd led the charge. I followed.
The man was Colonel Joshua Chamberlain. I'll remember him forever. He taught me that faith in country is strong enough to overcome many obstacles. I never got to meet him.
The Battle of Gettysburg lasted three days in July. By July 4th, the Union Army had won. Our first major victory.
Somehow, I knew that what I had seen was what defined Northern victory in that Battle. Colonel Chamberlain had saved us.
I've never forgotten it.