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Ned & Will Stevens
16th Maine
  T he
men of the Blanket Brigade – the 16th Maine – had been in the rear of
John Gibbon’s initial assault, but now, through a stroke of luck – good
or bad – they marched in the lead. Ned Stevens’s eyes were filled with
tears. Not since they had left Winterville, with the bands playing and
the flags waving and the girls and children cheering, had he ever known
a prouder moment. For him and his brother and the rest of the men of
the 16th Maine, the time of truth had finally come. This was truly God’s
army, hell bent on freedom for the slaves. Modern Crusaders with God’s
‘terrible swift sword’ at last unsheathed. Ned watched his big brother,
Will, marching just to his front, his saber over his head, leading his
company forward in grand style. If pride is a sin, he thought,
then I am surely going to hell. There is not a man in this world
better or braver than Will.
Somebody
began to sing.
John
Brown’s body lies a moldering in the grave…
The
rest of the regiment joined in.
The preceding
passage is an excerpt
from No Greater Courage, and may not be reproduced or reprinted
without permission in writing from the publisher.
Read more in No Greater Courage:
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