Any attempt Lieutenant Pace made to control failed. The battle narrowed for each man to the condition of his own skin and what lay before him. Pace continued to shout unintelligibly, firing his pistol at the Confederate skirmishers, dropping two of the men.
As he gasped for breath, Robert ignored the sound of hissing bullets. The battle could not continue this way for long. There were not enough rebels to keep pace with the carnage; the Union would win by sheer number remaining alive and soon the intensity would be too much and one of the battle lines would break as men fled the punishing attack. He looked for Anders and found him through the haze of smoke, watching Robert intently. In his loudest voice, Robert gave the order he knew was the only resort for the Rebels if they were to avoid defeat, if they were to avoid the surrender of all the Confederate troops on Coal Island. “Fix bayonets.”
Anders ran across the face of the Rebel line until he had parceled out thirty men from the flank of the formation. Pointing at the thirty men, he shouted, “Fix bayonets.” The men stopped loading their rifles and drew their bayonets from their belts and connected them to the end of their rifles with a hard twist.
“Skirmishers to me,” Robert beckoned to the four men who remained standing. Leaving them out in the field only made them easy targets, and these men had served their purpose.
Union men were dropping, but it was not enough. At this rate, the last rebel would face three angry Union guards.
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“Charge bayonets,” Anders men thrusting their rifles forward with the long knives forming a lethal hedge.
“Keep their heads down,” Robert shouted to the rest of his men. “Suppressing fire.” The skirmishers reached Robert and once again kneeled in the snow and reloaded their pistols as the rest of the rebels fired their rifles as fast as they could with little regard to aim or precise loading. It was volume they needed now.
“Forward march,” Anders glanced at Robert with a fierce grin and nod. “On the double,” and the men broke into a run, charging the Union line as quickly as possible in the deep snow.
The Union men were so focused on their plight, they failed to notice the rebel charge from their extreme right until it cleared the smoke of battle. Some men in the Union battle line faltered, stepping away from the approaching danger.
Turning his back on the enemy, Robert faced the rest of his men with a wicked smile touching his lips. “Fix bayonets.”
Anders men screamed rage as they crossed the snow, sweeping to the right and falling on the exposed flank of the Union army, rolling into the thin line with incredible viciousness.
Gunfire faltered as the Union troops looked to their right where men were screaming in fear and pain, men fighting hand to hand in the thick smoke. They did not know where to turn as Pace stood awestruck and unable to shout any order to counter the appearance of the Rebel attack. Many of them turned to face the new danger.
The rest of the Rebel army appeared out of the smoke and snow, a horde of men gleefully bent on destruction, led by a crazed man oblivious to his wounded arm.
Not even Lieutenant Pace could stand against the charge.