The Blood of My Brothers: First Bull Run (IC/Open)

[SaintB]

OOC and Registration

"Whether the Union stands or falls, I believe the profession of arms will henceforth be more desirable and more respected than it has been hitherto."
-Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts

July of 1861

The nation is at war. Twelve of the thirty three American States have broken away from the Union and formed their own Confederacy of States to rival the government in Washington. Their own Capital in Richmond Virginia is tantalizingly close to the border and many believe that one good push could decisively end the conflict before it even really begins. The public and the government of America are calling for a decisive battle to end this rebellion nonsense and President Abraham Lincoln has answered the call by pushing his Generals to march on Richmond sooner rather than later. All that stands before the largest army yet assembled on the North American continent and the City of Richmond are some rebel soldiers camped at a Railway Station known as Manassas Junction and along the banks of a small river named The Bull Run. Nobody yet knows just how dear of a price the nation will pay to stay united.

July 20th, 1861. The eve of battle.

The Union: Army of Northeastern Virginia
Commanded by General Irvin McDowell and 35,000 men strong with an effective fighting force of nearly 29,000 soldiers, it is the largest singular gathering of troops in the history of North America up until this point. They are the pride of the Union, a massive and invincible force of volunteers to the media and the public but as green as the fresh spring grass that they were drilling in only a scant few days ago. While the soldiers are all fresh faced young patriots their commander is a career officer and veteran who has served as a staff officer under some of America's best generals, however, just like his soldiers this is his first time in combat.
On the day before the battle most of the Union Army is still camped a few miles away in and around the small town of Centreville. They know the Confederacy has set up positions along the Bull Run River but their intelligence is two days old meaning they cannot be certain as to the numbers and composition of the enemy. Current orders are to sit tight and maintain a perimeter of pickets and sentries.

The Confederacy: The Army of the Potomac
Pierre Gustave Toutant-Beauregard commands this force of 20,000 fighting men. He is at this time the biggest star in the Confederate Army; hailed as the hero of Fort Sumter and called by his rivals and admirers "Little Napoleon" behind his back. A 42 year old former Superintendent of West Point served the United States with distinction in the Mexican American War. When his home state seceded he resigned his commission to become the first Brigadier General in the new Confederate Army; it was under his command that Fort Sumter was fired upon and then seized.
The Army of the Potomac is nearly outnumbered 2 to 1 and as green as their rivals but they are not afraid because they are on the defensive and possess the superior ground. Soon they will receive reinforcements via rail line, 3,000 more men to bolster their ranks and rumors say the Joseph E Johnston will be arriving with enough men to equal or outnumber the Federals.
Orders are to hold the line and watch for any Union incursion.

[Sheyt Clor]

Captain Ethan Sky of the 26th Virginian Regiment and Company B "the Fire-starters" sat at a table outside his tent looking at a map of Richmond and the surrounding area. His young age and inexperience in the art of war made his fellow commanders and his soldiers think he was weak, until training began. Training was harsh, soldiers woke at the crack of dawn and were put through harsh training such as many, many push ups, CQC, climbing, and more. slow down and sky would speed you up. fights between soldiers would result in the whip. Sky was very anti-slavery, wouldn't support it if you payed him enough to buy every business in New York, but he joined the confederacy because of the lies of the north said about the battle of fort Sumter. A soldier of the scout group came to his table and waited to be addressed. "What is it?" he said in his serious sounding, deep voice. "Sir, the Union soldiers have been spotted, they're preparing to march on Richmond." "How many? When will they arrive?" Sky replied. "About 30 thousand and we predict tomorrow." "God damn it!" Sky said with anger while slamming the table, the soldier jumped at the loud and sudden noise. "Sorry, i can get angry easily. Inform the captains of the other company's. We'll need to get ready and quickly." The soldier ran off.

[Alsheb]

14th Regiment New York State Militia

Captain Isaiah Uffendill stared through the morning fogs of Virginia, in the vain hope of spotting anything in the southern fields.
Somewhere over there, the town of Manassas ought to be, and the creek of Bull Run meandered nearby as well.

Uffendill lit his cigar and blow the smoke in circles into the air, his eyes ever serious and pensive. This will be it, he thought. The site of his very first battle. Ever since signing up into the Union army in April, he had served in duties such as guarding the city of New York and raising the numbers of enlistenings through parades and similar activities to boost morale amongst potential volunteers in New York state. Only the end of May had seen the unit officially mustered into action by General McDowell. It was then that Uffendill, First Lieutenant in B Company, had received a field promotion to the position of Captain, and had received the command over said Company. And thus, here he was. Together with his boys of the Fourteenth.

The 14th Regiment New York State Militia, or the 14th Brooklyn, as the men preferred to be called. For that is what they were: all natives of Brooklyn to a man, born and bred in the bustling city of New York. Artisans, traders, lawyers, doctors, bankers and contract workers. And each and every one of them an enthousiastic volunteer in the Brooklyn militia, ready and willing to fight to keep the Union together, and smash down on the rebellious barbarians in the South. A militia regiment, not part of the standard army, but highly localised in base of recruitment. A regiment that consisted only out of volunteers, and refused any conscripts in its ranks. Lincoln's Pups, as they were called back in New York. One of the President's personal favourite units, and the number one to rely on in recruitment rallies.

This had been one of the main reasons for his promotion, Uffendill knew. He, like his father before him, had been a vocal abolitionist and outspoken supporter of the Republican Party during his time in Brooklyn. As an attorney of law, his position as a well respected citizen of New York had enabled him to campaign for the cause of abolitionism and his own views of the necessity of a hard stance against the slave states. Uffendill had never made a secret out of his disgust for the South, a position that in these times of war turned out to be beneficial.

Giving up on the fruitless staring through the fog, Uffendill decided it was time for the morning roll call. Straightening his uniform, he ensured that he would look impeccable before his men. The uniform of the 14th Brooklyn, which had kept the blue colour of the Union army only in the sack coat they wore. For the rest the unit donned bright red trousers and a kepi in red with only the top navy blue. Even the chevrons that showed each soldier's rank was in a beautiful bright red.
The 14th was not only a militia regiment, but also a zouave unit, modelled after the famous French light infantry troops. It noted once again the particular nature of Uffendil's beloved Brooklyn militia.

Finishing up his cigar, Captain Isaiah Uffendill made his way back to he tent camp to order the réveil to be sounded.

[Upiantstan]

Colonel William J. Colvill, Jr. sat at the small campfire in the center of his camp. He commanded Company F of The First Minnesota Volunteer Infantry. His one hundred or so men milled about him. They had no need for guards, he thought, because they were surrounded by other company's. One in particular, however, stood out.

Colvill called to one of his nearby men. "Alexander," he asked. "Could you please find out what company that is over there, in bright red?" He continued poking at the fire with a stick. Muttonchops were the new style, he heard, and he had begun growing a set. Alexander returned. "They are the 14th Regiment of the New York State Militia, sir." William dismissed the man. He looked down at his simple blue, standard uniform with a sword at his hip. Then he looked at the red of the other soldiers. Who are these pretentious blowhards? After pondering about it some more for a moment, he decided that he shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. They could be excellent soldiers, for all he knew.

The fog had only cleared slightly, and for now their orders were to wait. So he waited.

[Alsheb]

14th Regiment New York State Militia

With the réveil sounded, and the morning rituals of getting the men out of bed and into formation for roll call finished, Captain Isaiah Uffendill contently oversaw his company. True-blooded Union boys to a man, and all of them eager to fight the rebels that had massed near Manassas. Isaiah maintained firm discipline amongst his troops, even though they had not engaged in any actual combat yet. It was important for the boys to be prepared though, and right now training and discipline were the best preparations

That's not to say the Captain never let his hair down. He was not shy of going amongst his soldiers in the evening, and to share a story or two and play a game of cards at the nightly campfires. But during the day, he was a strict and serious officer, and his men had grown to expect and respect this of him.

After roll call had ended, Isaiah decided to make way to the encampment that was positioned right next to that of the 14th Brooklyn, which belonged to a regiment of the regular army. As a militia officer, it had occured to the Captain that he hadn't had the pleasure before of making the acquaintance of a fellow officer in a regular Volunteer Regiment yet. So he made his way into the camp of his blue-shirted companions.
Isaiah's bright yet chevrons and pantaloons soon attracted the attentions of the blueshirts, and he didn't have much trouble finding his way to the commanding officer of the company.

Saluting the Colonel in front of him next to a campfire, he made first contact.

"Greetings, Colonel. Captain Isaiah Uffendill, B Company of the 14th Brooklyn, New York State Militia."

[Upiantstan]

Colvill was kicking a rock back and forth between his feet, when he heard the talkative men around him quiet down. He looked up and saw the Captain of the New Yorkers walking over. The man walked right up to Colvill's campfire and saluted him. "Greetings, Colonel. Captain Isaiah Uffendill, B Company of the 14th Brooklyn, New York State Militia."

Colvill stood from his seat by the fire, and proudly returned the salute, albeit tiredly. "Colonel William J. Colvill, Jr., Captain. First Minnesota Volunteer Infantry. You can call me whatever you want."

There was a short, awkward pause. Colvill jumped in. "So, haha, uh, those are some high-falutin pantaloons you got there. The camp canard says you guys are brits, but a brit wouldn't have been so polite. There's gotta be a story."

Colvill was trying to keep the conversation away from the coming battle, for his sake and his men's. He knew it would have to come up eventually, though.

[Alsheb]

Isaiah smiled politely at the Colonel's quip. Humour was always welcome at times like these, and it was probably the most enjoyable reaction to the 14th Brooklyn's uniforms that he had heard recently.

"It's French actually, these uniforms. But me and my boys are Yankees through and through, I can assure you."

Seeing that William's curiosity was not yet satisfied, the Captain continued.

"We're zouaves, you see. Specialised light infantry modelled after the French units in North Africa. The pantaloons, red patterns and exotic clothing are all part of the package. But we're also trained in light infantry combat tactics.
The 14th New York is a local militia regiment raised exclusively from the Brooklyn area of New York, and is mostly composed out of abolitionist sympathisers. We've been transferred from guard duty around New York to the battlefield recently."

Stretching out his arm to offer a handshake to Colvill, Isaiah ended his monologue.

"It's nice to meet a regiment of the regular army. And Minnesotans at that. I don't believe I've ever had the honour."

[Upiantstan]

William firmly accepted Uffendill's handshake. "You'll find us to be a ragged bunch, seeing that we're all volunteers. We don't get cold easy!" He announced, chuckling at his own joke. "I am glad to hear that you all are abolitionists though. Most of us are too. I could never fathom how those damn greybacks could keep another like a pet..."

He kept going. "Seeing as you're a little more trained, I'll make sure my men stick by you through battle. Maybe they'll learn a thing or too."

Just as William said that, a disorderly soldier tripped and kicked a bucket of water over the fire near the two men, getting their shoes wet. William grabbed the man by his coat and pulled him upright. "Straighten up and watch where you're going! Put a little stiffness in your gait, and stand proud like the soldier you are!"

Pushing the young man away, he went back to Isaiah. "Sorry 'bout that. So, uh, you hear any rumors about what's going down today?"

[Alsheb]

Captain Uffendill nodded at the Colonel's much welcome words, and amusedly witnessed Colvill's rigid policy on discipline and esprit de corps. He could grow to like this Minnesotan, he seemed to be from the right material for a Union officer.

"If you ask me, those Rebs over yonder have no humanity, Colvill. At least not until we punch some humanity into them. God willing, we'll drive their sorry hides back to Richmond within the next few weeks."

After the two men shared a fit of laughter, Uffendill's expression got a bit more stern as he continued.

"As for what's about to happen the coming days though, your guess is a s good as mine. All I know is that the Dixie boys are holed up south of here, along the Bull Run. Over yonder is supposed to be a junction at Manassas, and that's pretty much as far as I know it. Not much of a strategical value in this area, the way I see it. Seems this is just where the greybacks decided to meet us for open battle."

Evading the uncomfortable talk of the fighting ahead a bit, Isaiah quickly wrapped up.

"Nothing a hardy bunch of Northerners can't handle, I'm sure. Especially if their units are from Brooklyn and the First Minnesota"

[Sheyt Clor]

Captain Sky was still wondering where the commanders were. He has not even heard from the soldier he sent to tell the commanders the information he had learned about.

[Elysian Kentarchy]

Captain Humphrey sits there reading the paper with a few other troops by the firelight. "Those secessionists in Charleston keep stirring up a fuss." One of the soldiers remarks.

"As expected." The Captain replies. "Virginia decides her destiny and weak willed people decide to try to resist such a destiny. That has always been the way of the world. Thus it is our duty to drag such cowards along kicking and screaming."

"Aren't you from Charleston, Captain?"

"I am but I am also a Virginian. Deciding what the state does... well that is well above a simple soldier like myself but it is the duty of people to go along with the state. If you ask me if I think politicians are the ones who are our best guides I would disagree. Politics are what got us into this mess and blood and lead will be what gets us out of it."

"So you think this will be a mess?" The soldier laughs. "Surely you heard what everyone said, that this thing will be over after a quick brawl."

"Mark my words, this will not be a simple battle where we fight once and go home. Rather this will probably last for a while. Plenty of West Pointers joined up with us certainly but even more joined the Union. They are tenacious and won't give up easily so I am doubtful one win will end this. that Lincoln feller seems determined too despite everyone deriding him so I think he will put up a good fight." He warns them but then breaks out in a grin. "On the other hand I have always wanted a war, a great war where I could fight and be a real soldier, I had dreamed of it since I was a child. So I sincerely hope this doesn't end in a couple weeks and instead lasts for years. A grand old war for years... sounds like paradise."

The Captain's words take them aback and one asks. "So is that the only reason you are even fighting? To have your war?"

"Don't get me wrong. I love Virginia dearly, that is why I fight for her, but loving war for your state is just an extension of the love for your state. Politics is simply something I do not grasp and the issue of slavery does not concern me too deeply. It is something beyond me." The Captain closes his eyes, people have described him as someone who is a pure soldier and it suits him well. Now instead of being a soldier he must now be an officer and a leader. He smiles a simple smile while the thought goes off in his head. "I thank God for this grand battle. May we have a grand old war to give a soldier like me purpose. May we continue to have fun. For this I pray to you Almighty God. Amen."

[Republic of Coldwater]

Harper's Ferry, Virginia
Upon the two rivers which conjoin upon this bijou stead, the men of the 2nd Virginia march and conglomerate. Armed with their muskets, their knapsacks and their kepis, most have never smelled the fray of battle, only recruited into the army to protect Virginia from the incursions of the Yankee invaders.

The 2nd Virginia was apart of Thomas Jackson's brigade, a former Captain in the U.S Army, and professor at the Virginia Military Institute in Lexington, the town which is home to both Washington College, and the VMI. Jackson was known for his peculiar behaviors and the antipathy that many students of the VMI reserve for Captain Jackson and Captain Jackson alone. He memorized every intricate facet of a lesson and exerting it upon his students word for word like a seemingly monotonous imbecile. As Jackson mounts upon a wonderfully sorrowful horse, one so small, so timid, so seemingly weary, some could only laugh at his asininity, for out of all the proud and grandiose horses at his disposal and choosing, he chose this 15-hand gaunt, of a dark persuasion with little, if any external exquisiteness or splendor.

For Lieutenant Daniels, he cared little for what Jackson decided to ride on. All he knew of Jackson was his assiduous attitude to his labors and bequeathments. As his men laugh and chatter amongst themselves, Daniels walks along the road, waiting for orders to be bestowed upon his green recruits. His late father had told him about the Battle of Buena Vista and how valiant the president's Mississippi rifles fought, and how brave were the cavalry against equally fearless Apache. "If my men can be as dauntless as the Apache, there will be hell to pay for those Yankee federals" thought Daniels as he raised his head.

In front of him was now Colonel Jackson. "Men of the 1st Brigade, we shall march to aid those in Manasass!" yelled Jackson. His men cheered and jeered as they prepared to march to aid their comrades in their efforts.

[Upiantstan]

"Especially if their units are from Brooklyn and the First Minnesota." The two men looked at each other, and after a brief pause fell into a fit of laughter.

"Well, it was nice to meet you Isaiah. It makes me proud to know that there are others like me who are willing to fight for the same thing our grandfathers did. Freedom." He looked back and saw a couple of his youngest men having issues with their rifles. "I had best help them. I'm sure we will meet again soon."

Colvill walked off to help the boys.

[Dosteovania]

Captain Malcolm Jamison Butler was standing in front of his mirror, carefully swiping at the stubble on his chin with his straight razor when his young orderly, Corporal Harland Soames, came bustling into his tent, holding out an envelope.

"Sir! We've had word that the Yankees are on the move. This dispatch came for you with the morning post."

Butler glared at Soames' reflection in the mirror, his grey eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Christ on the cross, boy. Haven't I told you before to warn me before you enter into my tent? I could have sliced my damned throat open, had I not been more careful!"

Soames was instantly contrite.

"I'm sorry, sir. I guess in my excitement, I just plumb forgot! But it's the Yankees, sir! And they're headin' towards Richmond!"

Butler finished shaving and wiped his face off with a towel. He turned towards Soames, pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders as he did so. He held out his hand for the dispatch and Soames quickly handed it to him.

"Go get me some coffee, please," he said as he took the missive.

Butler sat down at his camp desk and ripped the envelope open. His eyes quickly scanned the smudged writing.

"Jesus Christ," he said quietly as he finished reading. "This is it."

He got up and went outside. The camp was still somewhat quiet, as the sun was just barely coming up over the hills in the horizon. A light fog hovered just off the ground, and the day was already warm and sticky.

Soames came up beside him and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. He took it gratefully, blew on it for a second, and then took a sip of the bitter brew. He grimaced at the taste.

"Sorry, sir," Soames said as he saw the look on his commanding officer's face. "The Quartermaster's wagon hasn't arrived yet, and we're plumb outta sugar."

"Of course we are."

Butler rolled his eyes. The Quartermaster's wagon always seemed to get lost whenever Company C needed things. It seemed to Butler that he and his boys were on the bottom end of the totem pole at times, when it came to supplies and such.

"Oh, well. It makes no nevermind anyway. We're to meet up with the rest of the 1st Maryland Battalion, and then we're to rendezvous with the rest of the army somewhere around Blackburn's Ford."

Soames's eyes widened.

"You mean, this is it, sir? We're headin' off to fight?"

"It certainly looks that way, Corporal. I don't think it can be avoided. Now, go tell the bugler to sound reveille and get the men assembled. We need to get moving."

"Yes, SIR!" Soames said enthusiastically. He saluted and ran off.

Butler shook his head.

War is certainly not something I'll EVER be excited over, he thought to himself as he ducked back into his tent to finish getting dressed.

[SaintB]

OOC: Check your inboxes!!!

July 20th, 1861
Army of Northwestern Virginia
The 20th of July passes by peacefully with no significant movements by the Union Army. Unbeknownst to the Army of Northwestern Virginia however General Joseph E. Johnston, commanding officer of the Confederate Army of Shenandoah evades Major General Robert Patterson's American Army of Shenandoah and marches into Piedmont Station where he debarks by train to reinforce PGT Beauregard's men. By the time the sun rises on the 21st both armies will be more or less equal in size.
That night as the men settled in for dinner General Irvin McDowell finally revealed his plans to the officers below him for the battle that is about to ensue. McDowell's strategy is simple and straightforward sounding but still proves to be more complex than his green army can handle. With 12,000 soldiers McDowell plans to pin down and outflank the Confederacy by attacking them on their West flank at Stone Bridge with 2/3 of the mobilized force while the remainder moves around the flank to Sudley Springs where they can ford the river and attack the enemy from the side.

Confederate Army of the Potomac
PGT Beauregard is not content to sit in silence while his enemy counterpart plots against him only a few miles away. He draws up a plan of his own to execute the following morning. Joseph E Johnston's reinforcements have emboldened him further and he thinks he may be able to dislodge the Union from Centreville by making a series of attacks on the Eastern flank. He does not schedule his maneuvers for the dark of night unlike his Northern rival, preferring to wait until the daytime to avoid any hazards and confusions in the darkness. His initial strategy for the upcoming battle is oddly almost the exact same as General McDowell's.


July 21, 1861
Army of Northwestern Virginia
The Union attack begins at 2:30 in the morning and almost immediately runs into issues as nearly 20,000 green recruits take to the Warrenton Turnpike and lose cohesion. An entire brigade of soldiers gets turned around at about 3am and causes such chaos that the flankers bound for Sudley Springs are delayed by several hours. Meanwhile the attack on Stone Bridge happens too early...

Confederate Army of the Potomac
The first shots of the battle are fired around 5:15am, almost three full hours after the Union Army began its attack in the dead of night. A Union battery of artillery is attempting to range in on the Confederate soldiers across the Stone Bridge while 8,000 Union soldiers prepare to attack. Many of those shells miss wide of their target and instead land around the Wilmore McLean house where Beauregard has set up his headquarters and interrupts his breakfast. He quickly sends orders to his right flank, ordering them to begin their attack ahead of schedule but somewhere his orders are misinterpreted and his generals are told to hold their position and await the order to attack. It never comes.

[Upiantstan]

Colvill ran his fingers through his hair as he yelled out orders to his men. Orders to advance on Rebel forces arrived today. His men were nearly assembled. Many were already at attention. William looked around at the other regiments around his. The New Yorkers were in as much a rush as Colvills men.

As soon as his men were ready, they hurriedly began to march down Warrenton Turnpike to their position at the bridge.

Colvill was hurriedly getting his men into position when the Union batteries began to pound away to the west. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a family bright red. It comforted him to know that he would be sent into battle with a new friend.

"Alright men, breath deeply and stay calm! Things are going to start happening quickly!"

[Alsheb]

14th Regiment New York State Militia

With the first rays of sunlight slowly rising in the east, the 14th Brooklyn marched towards the Stone Bridge over the Bull Run stream. The contrast of the Union blue and the bright red of the zouave uniforms made for a majestic sight. Colonel Alfred M. Wood, having given a rallying speech for the New York zouaves when they left camp, led the Regiment from A Company. But in the heat of battle, it was up to each individual Captain to take care of his own men. As it was for B Company, a heavy responsibility laying on the shoulders of their commanding officer.

This is it, Captain Isaiah Uffendill thought to himself. The moment of truth, the moment where we have been living towards for months has finally arrived.

Fastening his grip around his officer's sabre so firmly that his knuckles turned white, Uffendill turned to his men just as the first shots of the Union artillery barrage strike on the far side of the bride.

"Forwards, 14th Brooklyn! Let's show those Rebs that Lincoln's Pups got a bite!"

[Elysian Kentarchy]

"Captain, orders from command!" A soldier yells handing Captain Humphrey a note which he immediately reads. "Right. Listen up my fellow Virginians of Company D of the 1st Virginia Volunteers!" He yells. "We finally have our orders!" He is cut off by some cheering. "We have our orders, secure Stone Bridge and don't let them Yankees cross it. They do that then they can march right on Richmond and we won't let some Yankees march over our fair land now would we?!" A unison of the word 'no' echos out amongst them. "You're right and don't you forget it!" The Captain yells back. "So drummer boy sound up a beat. We march for Stone Bridge!" There is a cheer and we march out. As they do the Captain mutters under his breath. "Holding the bridge will be a death trap without reinforcements if the Yankees come at full force but we need to hold it at all costs." A few people flinch as cannonballs fly over head. "Ignore them boys! Them Yankees couldn't shoot straight at us even if we were standing out in front of them!" The Captain yells marching at the front of the group.

[Upiantstan]

The Minnesotans had frozen in place just short of the bridge; despite William barking orders at them. "What in god-damn are you doing?!" Colvill turned to see what they were looking at as the sound of drums began to near.

A wave of grey uniforms was approaching Stone Bridge, the same bridge they were supposed to defend. William stared for a moment himself before shaking his head. Few U.S. cannons were pointed this way and none of them were hitting the rebels, despite a stray ball landing close once in a while. He turned back to his men.

"Okay men! Lets keep moving! Get into position at the east end of the bridge!"

The young soldiers hurriedly got into position. Around half formed a block on the east end of the bridge, and the others formed lines on either side.

"Remember to leave room for anyone else that wants to join in our fight!" He mumbled under his breath. "We're going to need it."

[Alsheb]

14th New York Militia

The 14th Brooklyn had almost reached the Bull Run river bank. The small stream, glittering in the light of the rising sun, was still untouched by the scourge of war that was approaching. But not for long.

"Take up positions, boys! We keep the left side of Stone Bridge. Here we stand! Here we fight! No matter what hell those godforsaken Greybacks unleash upon us, we stand here and we fight! We are the Fourteenth Brooklyn!"

Captain Uffendill cried out to his Company, shouting on the top of his lungs over the noise of the upcoming battle. Having sheathed his sabre, he had pulled out his revolver to join in the bloody business of the day. The 14th would hold the left side of the bride, and secure the main assault force would be able to cross and drive the Greys away from the Bull Run. If today the Southerners would be defeated, the road to Richmond would lay open, and the rebellion itself could be vanquished ina matter of weeks.

Uffendill felt te rush of battle come over him. A rush as if drugged, in a trance of combat. Not free from fear, far from it. Fear held his heart in a constant firm grip, a cold feeling inside him. But maybe it was this very fear that caused this trance in the first place.
Isaiah stretched out his arm, prepared his revolver and fired the first shot, over the waters of the stream into the waves of grey on the far side.

"Fourteenth Brooklyn, today we fight!"

Immediately, the zouaves from New York broke formation and started firing at will. Some of them taking a knee, others even laying flat on their stomach on the floor. The line of blue and crimson that had been so intriguing to the eye seemed to shatter. But that was far from the case.
A Zouave was more than a fancily-dressed infantryman. He was trained from the start in light infantry tactics and irregular warfare. A zouave does not stand in line to fire at command. He fires when his shot is best, loads in a way that gives him the most cover, and analyses the situation to gain the most momentum in battle. And while the city boys from Brooklyn were not raised with a weapon in their hand the way rancher lads do, the 14th New York Militia was determined to bring honour to the uniform.

Left and right, Isaiah Uffendill saw men fall under the returning fire of the Confederates. He know each and every one of his B Company, and held the lives of his lads dear to heart. But today was a day of battle, and the Fourteenth would come through, no matter what the cost.

[Upiantstan]

William joined his men near the front of the bridge.

Stone Bridge arched slightly, but he still had a clear view of the rebels marching towards him. Their drums were carried through the air towards the sun at Colvill's back. Then he had a brief moment of realization. The sun would be in the rebels eyes. That could come in handy...

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar red file in to his left, on the South-East corner of the bridge.

"Alright men, stay calm! You've all been hunting before, or at least you better've. This is the same thing!"

The grey's were quickly approaching. For now, a cannonball would only hit them once in a blue moon. William looked over to the left once more, and saw the men stirring. Then he saw the American Civil War begin. Isaiah had drawn his revolver, and fired into the reb forces. His men instantly followed suite. As did everyone else. It was a domino.

Colvill drew his revolver and saber, and gestured to the Western sky. "Fire, men, fire!"

All of his men raised their weapons, but he stopped the ones immediately on the bridge. "Let the rest of the company do the fighting for now; you'll get your fun shortly."

He planned on holding them off until the gray backs came to a closer distance to the bridge.

[Upiantstan]

OOC: bump

[SaintB]

July 21st, 1861, 5:30 am
The morning sun is barely above the trees and already it's heat can be felt by the soldiers who are getting their first taste of combat. For many this will be the longest day of their lives, for others their last.

Stone Bridge
The Confederacy is slow to respond. Their soldiers where still sleeping or having breakfast when the Union Assault began. Fortunately for the South the Union is almost as unprepared as they are. A misplaced company took position in front of the assaulting troops and began firing on the few Confederate soldiers to respond to the attack and Union Artillery is positioned too close to the bridge for their long range rifled cannons to fire effectively on the enemy. To be properly emplaced they need to move over 200 yards farther back to get a suitable view of the battle for accurate fire. It would take nearly an hour to redeploy and so they continue as they were and hope that the intimidation factor is enough to help turn the tide.

14th New York Militia Company B
Orders followed correctly
There is hardly any shooting going on at all. Each man was ussued sixty rounds of ammunition and has barely fired three in the last fifteen minutes. Some Confederate soldiers have shot a few rounds back but no solid volleys or real attempts to dislodge your unit.
Casualties: 2 wounded, 1 dead.

First Michigan Volunteers
Misread orders
Your position by the bridge has gained the attention of the Confederate soldiers that responded and you have taken more fire than most of the other units, its light and inaccurate but persistent. A number of your soldiers lay dead and wounded, perhaps nearly one for every minute of fighting, and while they try to fight back morale is wavering among some of the men. A general rides from the rear toward your position and demands to see the captain of this company; William J. Colvill recognizes him as General Tyler, "You're out of position and blocking the regiment prepared to cross the bridge! Fall back and reform with your own regiment in the reserve before you cock up this whole assault!"
Casualties: 10 wounded, 3 dead.