Sergeant Able had been one of the last of the Union soldiers off the North River Bridge over the south fork of the Shenandoah River, where it was formed by the meeting of Broad Run and the South River. The Union troops under Brigadier General Erastus Tyler had made a stab across the middle of Virginia to try to trap the legendary Confederate general Stonewall Jackson and had only managed to back themselves to the in-flood south fork of the Shenandoah. Tyler had counted on being joined by Fremont's army, which never appeared. Now Tyler's forces had to get across the one bridge on the Shenandoah at Port Republic to escape a pincher movement of southern troops coming up from the south and down from the north on the river's western bank.
Once across the river, Tyler's forces had to quickstep back to Harrisonburg to avoid being enveloped by Jackson's army. The pursued had become the pursuer.
Sergeant Able's problem was that he couldn't quickstep. He'd barely made it over the North River Bridge when the Southerners had reached the eastern end of the bridge. They had snipers set up on the eastern bank who were shooting anything that moved. A bullet had gone through another soldier running away from behind him and had grazed Able high on his thigh. The other soldier had been shot through and through, and had landed on top of Able, dead before they hit the ground.
Able heard the Southern troops running across the bridge and deploying themselves along the western bank. Then he heard the bridge blow. There'd be no regrouping by Tyler's troops for another go at Jackson in Port Republic.
Able wasn't dumb. He knew the blowing of the bridge would signal Tyler just not to stop his retreat to Harrisonburg. And Able couldn't walk that far in front of a Confederate advance, even if he dared rise from the scant cover he'd gained when he'd hit the ground. The wound in his leg wasn't fatal, but it would slow him down too much to make a run for it. And it might, indeed, be fatal if he didn't get the bleeding stanched soon.
The first wave of Confederate soldiers fanned out parallel to the river bank and moved toward where Able lay, prodding Union soldiers who had been felled by snipers and helping along those mortally wounded but not yet gone. Able played dead, his body pretty well covered by that of his dead compatriot, as a battle-worn Reb passed him by.
Able waited for as long as he felt he dared after the Rebs had passed and then he pulled himself along the ground to the only cover he could see, an old mill house not far to the south of the blown bridge. As he reached safety there, he could hear the second wave of the Confederate troops fanning out from the river bank across the fields to the west. Able pulled himself into the dark building and burrowed into some burlap sacking behind a stack of barrels.
Able's wound was bleeding badly, and he couldn't suppress a moan when the young Union private, Josh, crept into the building in search for exactly what he found—a wounded Union soldier.
A very dangerous moment punctuated the scene when Josh first saw Able. He instinctive lifted his rifle and he could have shot the enemy soldier right there and then and no one would be the wiser, in fact no one other than Able would care or, probably, ever know the circumstances of his death. It would be less of a hassle all around for the Southern forces. And Josh did raise his rifle, and Able did lift his hands in defense and supplication. But then Josh saw the sergeant's stripes on the arm of Able's blue Union jacket. Josh had been told that they wanted to capture anyone with any rank if they could in case they could find out more about Tyler's troop strengths and plans.
Josh lowered the barrel of the rifle, and at that point Able nearly swooned into a faint, both in shock for what had been narrowly avoided, at least for the moment, and from the loss of blood from the wound on his inner thigh.
Now focused on providing a captive for the revered General Jackson, Josh bustled into a preservation rather than a destruction mode. He propped his rifle against a nearby post and grabbed for his canteen and the pack on his back.
Josh stripped Able of his britches and tore strips of cloth off this to use as a tourniquet. He poured water from his canteen on Able's inner thigh wound and then doused it with the whiskey he kept in another small flask in his pack. The wound didn't look so bad now.
Able snorted back to full consciousness when the liquor hit his wound. And he was fully conscious as he watched Josh wind the strips of material around his inner thigh and tie them off snugly. While Josh did so, he couldn't help but brush the backs of his hands across Able's quite able cock, which had been exposed when he'd been stripped of his britches.
Able knew instantaneously from Josh's response what the young soldier's inclinations were and that he'd had some experience. Able also knew quite a bit about the strength and Shenandoah Valley Campaign plans of Tyler's forces, so he had a good idea what he faced if he was sent back to Jackson's camp. And he knew that there was little or no chance he could get out of this predicament, but that he had to try to do so anyway
Josh was young and not that experienced as a soldier, Able could see, whereas he himself was not so young and was battle tested and resilient. He gauged the distance from where Josh was tending his thigh and where he had propped up the rifle.
Able had never fucked a man before, but if this Reb could be distract by that and if it required that to get at the rifle, it was something he'd try doing. There wasn't much other choice that he could see of getting out of here. In all likelihood getting to the rifle and killing this Reb would be the easiest part of his attempt to reach the Union lines.
The pursued turning into the pursuer.
The opening was right there beside Able, where it had fallen out of the Reb's pack when Josh had fished around for the flask of liquor.
"He's handsome," Able murmured, pretending now to be weaker than he really was, as he beckoned to the worn daguerreotype of the young man that had fallen out of the Reb's pack.
Josh's head snapped up in embarrassment and surprise. The Union soldier was conscious. Josh wondered, blushing at the thought, whether the Yankee had seen him dreamily eyeing that nice plump cock of his.
"Umm, yes. Ya'all shouldn't try to speak now. I'se afraid I'll have to find something to bind you with. But at least I stopped the bleeding now, so that's to the good."
"Kin of yours, is he?"
