The sun rose over Antietam, painting the sky pink and gold. But there was no beauty in the morning. The air smelled of gunpowder and death. The fields were littered with bodies, blue and gray, like broken toys.
Ethan stood on a hill, watching the battle unfold. He could see the Union lines, a long blue snake, holding the high ground. He could see the Confederate lines, a mass of gray, charging forward. He could hear the sound of gunfire, a constant roar, like thunder.
Callie stood beside him, her face pale. She held a telegraph machine in her hands, her fingers shaking. "Burnside's men are holding the bridge," she said. "But they're taking heavy casualties."
Ethan nodded. He knew the bridge was critical. If Burnside lost it, Lee's army would pour across the river, flanking the Union lines. "Tell him to hold on. Reinforcements are on the way."
Callie sent the message, her hands still shaking. "McClellan's men are fighting hard. But Lee's troops are relentless."
Ethan studied the battlefield. He could see Lee's reserves, massed behind the lines. They were waiting for the right moment to strike. "Tell Hooker to send two regiments to the right flank. Lee's going to try to break through there."
Callie sent the message. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an hour. The gunfire continued, the roar never stopping. Bodies fell, one after another, like wheat before a scythe.
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. He thought of the men who were dying. He thought of their families, waiting for them at home. He thought of the choices he had made. He knew that every order he gave cost lives. He knew that every victory had a price.
But he also knew that this was necessary. He knew that if the Union lost this battle, the war would be lost. He knew that thousands more would die if Lee was not stopped.
He opened his eyes. "How's the left flank?" he asked.
Callie checked the telegraph. "They're holding. But just barely. Lee's throwing everything at them."
Ethan nodded. He made a decision. "Tell McClellan to send his reserves to the left flank. I want Lee to think we're weak there. Then, when he commits his reserves, tell Hooker to attack the right flank with everything he has. We'll hit him where he least expects it."
Callie looked at him. "That's risky. If it doesn't work, we'll lose the left flank."
"I know." Ethan's voice was steady. "But it's the only way to win."
Callie sent the messages. The battlefield changed. The Union reserves moved to the left flank, strengthening the line. Lee saw the movement, and he smiled. He thought the Union was panicking. He ordered his reserves to attack the left flank.
But that was what Ethan wanted. As soon as Lee's reserves were committed, Hooker's men attacked the right flank. The Confederate lines crumbled. The Union soldiers charged forward, their bayonets gleaming in the sun.
Lee's army was caught off guard. They tried to fight back, but it was too late. The Union lines pushed forward, inch by inch. The Confederate lines retreated, step by step.
The gunfire began to die down. The battlefield grew quiet, except for the moans of the wounded and the cries of the dying.
Ethan let out a breath. He had done it. He had stopped Lee. He had saved the Union.
But the cost was high. Thousands of men were dead. Thousands more were wounded. The fields were covered in blood.
Callie looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. "We won," she said. "But at what cost?"
Ethan didn't answer. He knew the answer. He knew that the cost was too high. But he also knew that there was no other way.
They walked down the hill, toward the battlefield. The air smelled of death. Bodies were everywhere. Wounded men cried out for help. Medics rushed from one man to another, doing their best to save lives.
Ethan saw a young soldier, lying on the ground. He was bleeding from a wound in his chest. His eyes were open, but he was not breathing.
Ethan knelt down beside him. He closed the soldier's eyes. He said a silent prayer.
He stood up. He looked around. He saw a Confederate soldier, lying on the ground. He was still alive. He looked at Ethan, his eyes filled with fear.
Ethan walked over to him. He knelt down. "Are you hurt?" he asked.
The Confederate soldier nodded. "My leg. It's broken."
Ethan called for a medic. "Help him," he said. "Treat him like any other wounded soldier."
The medic nodded. He began to treat the Confederate soldier's leg.
Ethan stood up. He looked at the battlefield. He looked at the dead and the wounded. He looked at the future he had helped to shape.
He knew that this was not the end. He knew that there would be more battles. He knew that more lives would be lost.
But he also knew that this was a beginning. He knew that the Union had a chance to win the war. He knew that America had a chance to be reborn.
He turned to Callie. "We need to go back to Washington," he said. "We need to tell the President what happened. We need to plan for the next battle."
Callie nodded. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Let's go."
They walked away from the battlefield, leaving the dead and the wounded behind. The sun was setting, painting the sky red. It looked like blood.
Ethan knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. He knew that there would be more choices to make, more lives to sacrifice.
But he also knew that he was ready. He was ready to fight. He was ready to win. He was ready to build a better future.
And he was ready to pay the price.