The mud stuck to the boots of the men heaving the cannons into position on the hill to the north end of the field. The first glow of morning was turning the eastern sky's clouds yellow, orange, and red, as the General looked up from his lantern lit map on the table in his tent. He faced the opening the pulled back heavy canvas made. The night's preparations, in his mind, returned little hope of glory of the coming history his men would be making.

Caught with too few troops, the General knew from the scout's reports, the day ahead could only be won by surprise and shear mad determination. Stepping away from the table into the door of his tent, his tall figure was black against the red sky. His staff's eyes were still tuned to the lantern light as they waited in silence in the tent. One by one, they each picked up their gloves and moved towards the opening. The time was as perfect as it would be.

The General let his eyes adjust to the new morning's brightness. He surveyed the field rolling out before him. His men ready. The plan set. He called for his horse to be brought to him.

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