Edmond opened his eyes.  Brown canvas flapped somewhere above him.  He opened his mouth to speak.  Dry.


“You’re awake, Captain!”

The room came into slow focus around the scratchy, blue, wool covered arm holding a shining tin cup.  Edmond tried to sit up and pain lanced through his left arm.

“Just take it easy, sir,” said blue wool as he lifted Edmond’s head to tip the cup against his lips.

Edmond swallowed. “Where am I?”

“Atlanta, or what is left of it, sir.” He said as he lifted the flaps of the tent to let in more light.  Edmond raised his right hand and rubbed his eyes.  The man had a box with bars in it embroidered on his coat. The lieutenant sat down in the chair to his left.

“Sean McIntire.”

“Yes sir, thats me!  Good to see you awake sir.” Lieutenant McIntire said as he pulled the blanket back up over Capt. Drake’s arms.

“What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember, sir?” He looked quickly to the entrance of the tent and then back to Edmond.  “The doctors will be back soon, I’m sure that a bit more rest, and something for your pain-”

“I’d like to know why I’m in pain, Sean.”  Sean opened his mouth and then closed it.  “At least help me up so I can itch my foot.”  Sean stood and moved to Edmond’s side, but did not help when he reached for the tent pole to the right of his bed and slowly hauled himself up.

“Captain,” Sean rushed to the tent opening and bellowed for a doctor.  Edmond grabbed the thin wool blanket and began to pull its great weight back.  He slowly uncovered his right foot, and the stump of his left.  He stared at the protruding shin bone and the bright metal pin that stuck grotesquely from the bottom.  His heart pounded as the stump filled his vision.  He reached blindly for the cot behind him, and realized his left arm was going through the cot.  Confusion turned to revulsion when he saw the stump of his left arm.  He reeled backwards, gasping in the dusty air as he lost consciousness.