(Greentext) The Siege of Tillsburg (Part 2/2)

>When Dixie's corps arrived, the attack was postponed until the following day when General Lee saw the state of them
>Ragged, starving, and their moods sour, Dixie was given permission to prioritize feeding them while Longstreet offered what little spare clothes his own corps could find
>As the sun set that evening, the men were told of the coming battle in the morning, and that they should get as much sleep as 8 free hours could offer
>Tomorrow would be a very interesting day, the General thought as she watched the silhouettes of her men ease themselves onto the soft ground
>Some had enough energy to assemble and sleep in their tents, while others were content with laying under the night sky
>Satisfied with her day's overall efforts, she wheeled around and decided to call it a night, stepping through patches of tall grass towards the officers' tents
>She unbuttoned her tall coat as she walked, her hard eyelids growing heavier by the second
>Up ahead, the lantern hanging off her tent was lit, guiding her fading consciousness towards her soft cot like a moth to a light
>Suddenly, her leg collided with an invisible object on the black ground, instantly waking her up as she fell forward with an abrupt "woah!"
>She was fortunate enough to catch herself on the dirt with her arms rather than her swollen gut, narrowly saving her pregnancy from disaster
>"Hey, watch it!" a cranky, yet familiar voice groaned from below
>"...Dixon? Hon, is that you?" she asked, realizing she tripped on someone rather than something
>"Mama? Sorry, I thought you already went to bed!"
>She carefully rose from the ground and extended a hand out to pull him up too
>"No, but I was just about to," she replied, confused, "What are you doin' sleepin' out here?"
>Dixon accepted her hand and stood up while fixing his cap
>"That bastard over there," he huffed, pointing towards the shadowy outline of an officer standing guard, "didn't believe me when I said I was your new aide-de-camp because of my cavalry uniform. Wouldn't let me near your tent to say goodnight!"
>"Hmm," she mumbled, "Must be someone else's guard. I'll sort him out tomorrow, but just walk with me and he won't say a thang."
>"Walk WITH you?" he asked
>"I didn't put a second cot in my tent for no reason, hon, so don't let me catch you sleepin' on the ground again," she said with a smile behind her voice

>An uncertain amount of time later, Dixon slowly woke up to the sound of rustling outside the spacious tent
>Just as soon as he perked his head up, a figure entered and quietly sighed
>He knew who it was; who else would carelessly waltz into a corps commander's tent, after all?
>"Another staff meeting... Is it too much to ask for five hours of sleep?" the General grumbled to herself, removing the coat he saw her take off before they both fell asleep
>Dixon didn't say anything to announce his presence, instead wondering to himself why she appeared to have left in the first place
>In the dark, he saw her drape her coat on her desk's chair, slip her tall boots off onto the ground, and walk over to her cot on the opposite end of the tent
>To his surprise, she bent over and started dragging it towards him without a shred of hesitation
>Still, he chose not to interrupt her as she gently pushed the bed into its place: less than an inch right next to him
>She sunk into its canvas center with an exhale of relief, shifting herself so she lay on her side with her shut eyes facing his
>"Mmmh," she hummed before draping her arm over Dixon's chest, "Love you, hon," she whispered as she quickly dozed off
>He stared at her cracked wooden face for a minute before likewise closing his eyes again
>Despite her questionable attraction to a few Yankees, he was overall glad he had her for a mother

>Suddenly, he was jolted awake by a 'boom' echoing in the distance, a noise just loud enough to wake the light sleepers
>Immediately after he shot his upper body up, several more louder booms followed in quick succession
>The General groaned and reluctantly opened her eyes before an incoming screech entered both their ears
>Dixon couldn't get a word in before she gasped and quickly threw herself on him, acting as a meaty shield against the incoming shells
>A split second later, a deafening explosion rang out mere yards away and brought down their tent on top of them
>Their ears ringing, they did nothing but hold each other and breathe heavily until the shock wore off
>Though muffled, he heard similar bursts and panicked shouting nearby outside
>As an alarming minute slowly passed, Dixie looked down at him with terror in her eyes and whispered, "Are you okay?"
>He nodded, feeling near equal relief that she was unhurt
>She slowly stood up and fumbled around with the canvas ceiling until she disappeared out the exit flap
>Before Dixon could do the same, the tent was pulled off him and thrown aside, the early morning sun harshly meeting his eyes
>He stood up from his cot and gazed around, witnessing the chaos of men and officers rushing out of their tents, ducking for cover at every incoming shell
>His eyes met the tent that his mother was holding, a good chunk of it from the left side of it messily torn off from the explosion
>He didn't know if the General did, but he quickly realized that if she hadn't moved her bed last night, she would be dead
>Dixie dropped the shredded canvas and sighed just as the bombardment seemed to end, then looked up at her son
>"Could you pass me my coat, hon?" she calmly asked
>He blinked, then turned to find the garment thrown on the ground yet unscathed apart from a large splotch of dried dirt
>She took it from his hands and hastily threw it on, buttoning it up all the way to the collar
>Harshly kicking one foot up on her damaged table, she slipped on her mostly padded boots over her hooved feet, growing angrier with each passing second
>"By God," she snarled aloud, "If those Yankee bastards want to play rough, I'll do the same thang to them!"

>Ten minutes later, the General and her son stood in the circle of other commanders, preparing their collective answer to the bombardment
>All the remaining troops that somehow slept through the cannon fire were shook awake and formed into long columns, waiting for the orders to kick off the day's fighting
>To Dixie's left included Generals Hood, Ewell, and Hill; to her right were Dixon, Longstreet, and Gordon, along with others she rarely interacted with and didn't remember the names of
>Some looked shaken, others determined, but standing between them and a full-scale battle was General Lee's permission to start it
>Him and his aide Colonel Taylor had to hastily alter their orders to account for the early attack, and were briefing the inner circle about their premature assault
>Dixie's mind was elsewhere as Lee instructed the others about troop placements and strategy; her attention could not get off the fact that death missed both her and her son by only a few feet
>She was no stranger to combat, but certainly not to being attacked beyond the evening tattoo, let alone in her own tent behind the safety of her lines
>With a solid grasp on her intended positions from last night's meeting, she figured she could afford to space out a little
>"...General Hill, you will circle around the east end of the town and strike there with General Dixie's corps in support."
>Upon hearing Lee mention her name, she abandoned her thought and locked eyes with him
>She was promised to be LEADING the southeastern attack, not be put in the rear
>"In support, sir?" she questioned with clear discomfort, "All my divisions?"
>He either didn't seem to catch her tone or expected she'd protest, as he offered a fast explanation
>"General, I had to take Gordon from your front and reposition him to the western attack to quickly silence those guns that hit us minutes ago," he promptly said, "Both yours and Hill's artillery will bombard the wall at the same time, allowing your men to rush in while the enemy is concentrated along the western rampart. Whether your infantry is leading the breach or not makes little difference today."
>"Right," she replied, slightly embarrassed, "I understand, sir."
>"Are there any questions, gentlemen?" Lee raised his head and asked the group, to which he was met with shaking heads and quiet "no"s
>"Good. We must move swiftly this morning. God go with you," was all he said before motioning them away to their commands
>The generals broke rank and walked to their horses with varying haste, but Dixie did so with the least enthusiasm
>With Dixon in tow, she mounted her horse and rode to her own gathering of division and brigade commanders not far away
>Coming to a stop and returning their salutes, she sighed, feeling defeated even before the battle began
>"Well, boys," she glumly said, "Looks like we came all this way just to sit behind Hill like a damned..."
>She stopped herself and forced her to put her pride aside; she was a general, after all, and she had to act like one
>"...We're in support behind Hill on the eastern assault. Place your divisions in a long line beside each other directly behind his own," she said before turning to the clean-shaven young artillery officer in the pack, "Nelson, put your cannon just south of them and aim where they're facin'. Hill's artillery will be there to point you to your spot."
>"My pleasure, ma'am," he said with his typical eagerness, glamorously removing his hat in salute and immediately riding away without permission
>The other generals watched him leave in confused silence, then looked back at their commander, wondering if she'd attempt to stop him as usual
>Instead, Dixie smirked and exhaled, then matter-of-factly stated, "Sumbitch could give Jeb Stuart a run for his money."

>The General stared up at the courier's dirty gaunt face in sheer disbelief
>"Fall back?!" she parroted his order in frustration, "HE thinks he's had a little whoopin' and he wants ME to fall back too?!"
>It was midday by now, the first shot of the assault having been fired a couple of hours ago from her own cannon
>The unexpected but welcome gift of five of Longstreet's mortars allowed heavier firepower to be placed on the outermost ring of trenches, forcing the Yankees to retreat to the inner circle within only a half hour of shooting
>Her and Hill's corps quickly charged across the trampled grass field and poured into the earthworks just as fast as the Federals left them
>The trouble was, she and Hill were stuck in their current position; the artillery had torn a large hole through the ramparts protecting the town, but the stubborn entrenched Yankees stood between them and the entrance
>Behind the relative safety of a few thick trees 200-odd meters away, she, Dixon, and the rest of her staff watched her men's progress through binoculars
>The next thing she knew, half the rebels suddenly up and evacuated the trench as a messenger galloped up to her small headquarters
>"...Yes'm," the horseman replied bluntly, "Wanted me to remind you that you're only supportin' his advance."
>Within less than a second, something in her brain snapped; there was absolutely no reason for him to retreat now, so why should she pull out as well?
>From nearly being blown apart that morning to being essentially demoted for the assault, all the anger from that day climaxed into a single act of defiance
>"Okay, that's it!" she roared, ripping off her kepi and turning to her division commanders, "Gentlemen, y'all order your boys to take that last Yankee trench and the town behind it RIGHT NOW! Hill's got a victory starin' him in the face and won't take it... but we will!"
>Many of them were taken aback at her tone, but shared her resentment of the retreat order, so they swiftly mounted their horses and rode off to their brigadiers at the front
>The courier was at a loss for words, merely expecting her to gripe for a moment before complying with Hill's order
>"And YOU, boy," she snarled at the innocent courier, "Tell that sumbitch he'll regret not joinin' me in the charge!"
>The messenger was wide-eyed, but spurred his horse without a word and turned tail back to his sender
>The only two remaining behind the trees were the General herself and Dixon
>He finally spoke up, albeit nervously, "My god, Mama. You think we can take the town without him? We don't know how many could be waitin' inside."
>She took a deep breath and quietly answered without taking her eyes off the fight, "The Yankees in there are starvin' worse than we are... My boys could whip 'em with one hand tied behind their backs."

>Though missing half their strength, the front lines received the order to advance across the dirt in the path of thousands of whizzing bullets
>It would be suicide, some men and officers alike protested, in rare reluctance to their commander's orders
>Numb to the sting of battle, the rest of the veterans grabbed whatever they put aside in their trench in between shots
>As the uneasy minority of the corps' troops grumbled prayers to themselves, there was suddenly a commotion behind them
>The men turned around and witnessed their commanding general standing within their trench, coolly marching along the line with her sabre in hand
>"Come on, boys!" she shouted over the gunfire, "Make this charge and I promise y'all will eat real good tonight! I hear them Yankees got fresh beef and fruit in that there town!"
>Some laughed, knowing she was joking, but seeing her in the same danger they were in put the remainder of her reluctant troops at ease
>She raised her sword as high as her height permitted, giving a signal to Colonel Nelson's artillery behind her
>Just as a Yankee bullet grazed the edge of the blade, the cannons let loose a unanimous volley that whistled over the heads of the Second Corps
>The thousands of Federals staring at them from their trench opposite vanished in a thick cloud of dust; Longstreet's mortars proved especially effective at landing shells IN the earthworks
>"CHAAAARGE!" Dixie yelled, climbing out of the pit first as a nearby bugler sounded the corresponding call
>She could hardly see in front of her as she ran, but she at least could hear the deafening rebel yell ringing out behind her back
>What she didn't hear, however, were bullets whizzing around her
>As the sea of tattered gray coats surrounded and shielded her from whatever may strike through the dust, she saw her men briefly step into the enemy trench to continue forwards
>The indescribable horror in the dirt was an awful sight, but her job had made her as numb to it as one would be staring at a dead squirrel
>Pushing it out of her mind, the screen was just beginning to dissipate, and she could make out a swarm of retreating silhouettes running through the large gap in the ramparts
>Finally escaping the cloud, her and the corps gave chase and finally saw the state of Tillsburg as they entered
>Skeletal building frames riddled with shell holes stood on both sides of the main street, wounded Yankees stood or lay around them with their arm or arms raised in surrender, and the swarm of blue coats seemed to suddenly stop at the center of town
>Some rebels fired at the blue cluster as they continued to advance, but Dixie knew the Federals were completely disorganized; by the time they form into firing lines, they would have unnecessarily lost more of their ranks
>Unbeknownst to her, the reason they could not reach the opposite end of town was that General Gordon had accidentally torn his own opening in the wall and spontaneously ordered his men to rapidly pour in
>After a minute of desperately exchanging their last shots, the outermost Yankees in the mass raised their muskets above their heads or simply dropped them
>Dixie exhaled and sheathed her sabre as she watched a tattered square of canvas slowly rise up the center flagpole
>Her men began to cheer at the sight of the off-white flag, a sound that she enjoyed just as much as they did the sight
>Out of curiosity, she pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time of the Federal surrender
>It was just shy of 2:00, and she knew the rest of the day would be just as busy