The heat and humidity tore the hydration out of Johnny's body. Johnny enlisted in a Kentucky volunteer unit when the war started just a year ago and his relatives down south quickly joined the Confederacy. Johnny, only seventeen, enlisted in the Union army when they came to Kentucky to pick up volunteers. Now here he was fighting against the same unit his uncle was in during the ninety degree heat and humidity of summer. He sat and waited in the crude trenches that he had dug with the rest of the nervous and scared soldiers. When flags to mark each unit and a seemingly endless wave of gray appeared on the horizon a scruffy man to the left of Johnny mumbled to himself, “What the hell did I get myself into?” The Union men shifted uneasily in their trenches due to the lack of them and the seemingly endless number of troops that had appeared on the horizon. Johnny counted the number of flags and suppressed fear when he saw that there were twenty-three. Then the order came and the battle was about to begin.
“Fix bayonets and steady yourselves!” shouted the Captain.

The men drew their bayonets with shaky hands and fumbled to fix them. Johnny felt like crying but had to hold it back. He peered over and saw a boy to his right who carried a drum and looked like he was about to start bawling at any moment.
“Don't you worry now, we're gonna walk away from this okay?” said Johnny.
The boy just looked at Johnny and the expression buried itself in Johnny's memory. It simply said, “don't lie to me.” As the wave of gray got to the distance of about one mile from the Union men the cannons behind them shot over their heads and caused an explosion of dirt and men down range from Johnny. About half an hour later, the Confederates were right in front of the Union men and Johnny could see their expressions. None had fear on their faces and they looked aggressive and eager to fight like rabid dogs on a leash, they were confident in victory. All the Union men tried not to show fear to the enemy but it wasn't working; you couldn't just do that against so many soldiers when you had so few.
Then, the Confederate Captain shouted, “Last chance to give up Yankees!”
The Union Captain quickly responded by giving the command, “prepare to fire!”

“Ready!” Johnny brought up his rifle and pulled back the hammer. “Aim!” Johnny pointed straight ahead, it was impossible to miss. “FIRE!” A volley was sent with the loud cracks of rifles and a screen of smoke. The soldiers quickly did all they could to reload before the Confederate troops made their move. Johnny heard shots ring out on the opposite side of the smoke and the hollow sounding thunks it made as the rounds hit their nearby targets. Then, before they had time to get prepared to fire a second volley, Johnny heard the bugle sound on the opposite side of the smoke followed by the distinct rebel yell. Johnny frantically finished reloading and pushed his bayonet out as far as he could get it. The next few minutes of his life flashed by in a blur of survival as he impaled one unlucky man and then as he pulled his bayonet out of the man another hopped in the trench.

The scruffy old man to Johnny's left cursed and shouted as he wrestled with a Confederate soldier on the ground and the little drummer boy had disappeared from Johnny's side. The older Confederate avoided Johnny's bayonet as he locked rifles with Johnny. The man had an odor to him as if he bathed in garlic and brushed his teeth with onions which barraged Johnny's senses and made his eyes water and his nose burn. As Johnny struggled with the old Confederate he paid no attention to his face but on his hands and what he was doing and it was apparent the old Confederate was doing the same. Finally, Johnny managed to slip his rifle loose and stabbed the Rebel under the ribs and pulled the trigger to make sure the job was done. Then looking up with the adrenaline of battle and pulling his bayonet out he met eyes with his uncle and as blood trickled slowly out of his wound his saddened and pain twisted face fell to the ground. Johnny couldn't believe it. Out of all the rebels his uncle hopped in his section of the trench and fought him. “What have I done?” Johnny asked himself quietly ignoring the frantic screams for retreat.

The scruffy man had finished wrestling and was now grabbing Johnny by the collar yelling at him that they needed to go before they were left behind. Johnny still couldn't believe that he had just killed his uncle and the scruffy man had to drag Johnny's rag doll like body out of the trench. The old man started running with Johnny and when Johnny snapped back into reality he realized he wasn't moving his feet he started sprinting almost outrunning the scruffy man. Johnny looked to see men running ahead of him in the huge open field. It was perfect. There were no weeds or blemishes on the field. If he wasn't being pursued he would’ve taken a slow stroll through the field to relax himself.

He thought to himself that after the battle the field would never be the same, it would be riddled with craters from cannon balls and littered with bodies and equipment and filled with the ghosts of the dead. As Johnny ran with the rest of the panicking soldiers he heard shots from behind and watched men next to him fall over when he heard the familiar thunk of a round. The Union men would occasionally stop to shoot but no one formed up in an organized formation. The Captain had disappeared and was presumed dead by all the soldiers so they took their lives into their own hands. The scruffy man had disappeared from sight and the Union men were becoming close to the wood line which symbolized safety and possible escape. Johnny's second wind hit him as he passed up about thirty other soldiers while he was sprinting to the woods.

Once Johnny reached the wood line, he ducked for cover in a giant hole from an uprooted oak tree to catch his breath. Then he heard the familiar and winded voice of an old acquaintance.

“They must have put us against the entire damn Confederate army!”
Johnny turned to see the scruffy man panting sitting in the same hole.

“Name's Charlie, but my friends call me Hickory. I figured you may want to know that since we may not be around for too much longer.” Johnny sat and stared at the man who then gave him a look.
“the hell you lookin at me like that fer?” asked Hickory.

“You saved my life back there and now you're telling me I'm going to die? What kind of sense does that make?” asked Johnny. Hickory just shook his head and continued going through all his equipment looking for either water or ammo Johnny assumed. Johnny happened to look up and saw the enemy gaining on the edge of the woods. He then looked to see Hickory peering over his shoulder. “Well it seems like the good Lord's about to call me home,” said Hickory as he leaned back up against the dirt wall of the hole.

Johnny then, without thinking, grabbed Hickory by the collar and drug him out of the hole with him and started sprinting again deeper into the woods. After running about a mile he saw another familiar object. A drum with the drum skin and drum sling tattered and he then heard a gentle sobbing. He told Hickory to wait and be watch while he did a quick look see. He walked to a tree and saw the same little drummer boy hiding behind the tree.

“Hey son why doncha come out I ain't no Rebel,” said Johnny. The boy seemed to come out a bit and looked at Johnny with curiosity.

“I know you from the beginning of the battle. I got scared and ran away but the branches tore up my drum,” said the disappointed little boy.

Johnny looked at him with sympathy for the scared boy but he knew he needed to work fast. “Why doncha come with me 'an Hickory over there 'an we'll take you to the Union safe zone son?” asked Johnny.

“Call me Anthony and stop acting like I'm little I'm ten years old,” said Anthony. Johnny pulled Anthony out from behind the tree just in time as a distant shot rung out and a round smacked the tree next to Johnny's head.

“Rebs are comin!” yelled Hickory. Johnny just picked up Anthony and ran. After being pursued for almost two hours Johnny's legs felt like lead weights and they saw no other friendly soldiers around until they hit the bridge that crossed into US territory. The shouts of the pursuers still filled the forest and occasional shots rang out from when they found an unlucky US soldier trying to hide. Johnny couldn't help but to ask himself how the country could have been reduced down to killing each other even if it meant killing your own kin. The Union men on the other side urged them to cross so they'd be out of the cross fire when the Confederates approached the border. Johnny's lead legs managed to sprint the rest of the way and they were quickly greeted by a soldier who sent them behind the lines for food and rest. Johnny and Hickory almost collapsed from the relief of surviving that ordeal. Johnny put Anthony down and looked him in the eyes and managed a weak grin.

“See I told you we'd walk away from this,” Johnny said.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind,” said Anthony. “About forty soldiers passed me. They were in too much of a hurry to even notice me. You and Hickory were the only ones who stopped.”
That statement made Johnny feel sad, no man stopped to take notice and pick Anthony up and take him to safety. This battle had struck fear into the US soldiers who fought. Johnny was extremely thankful for surviving the day but as Johnny reached safety with his new friends his mind was still focused on the pain twisted face of his uncle which had burned itself into his memory.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know. Please forgive me wherever you are,” said Johnny quietly to himself. This had been, without a doubt, the longest day in Johnny's young life.