Ambrose Burnside

In a matter of moments the Pry house was empty with one, very lonely exception. Ambrose Burnside remained seated. His normally soft and friendly eyes were hard and angry -- his balding head wet and red. He couldn’t comprehend the injustice of it all. Not only had Hooker been given independent command, he was to commence the battle and would retain overall command of the most vital part of the field. Burnside, however, was a “diversion.” The humiliation was unbearable. The friendship was over. McClellan had not spoken to him. He had not even looked his way.
After all they had done together -- this. 

The preceding passage is an excerpt from To Make Men Free, and may not be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

No part of these excerpts may be reproduced or reprinted
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