Torn Apart

“Alright, once you’re out, start forming into your companies!” I awoke to the sound of our Colonel Toothpick ordering us out. He was the commander of our regiment. We didn’t know much about him. I grabbed my hat and rifle and walked out of the car. It took a while for my eyes to get adjusted to the light. Once we were all formed up, we were formed into a long column of fours and marched about all day. We passed miles of farmland, which made us feel like we were getting no where. I used up all my water in my canteen. My feet were really starting to hurt. I had a huge sigh of relief when we were ordered to make camp for the night. I slept with Bulls-eye that night. He was the only one I knew the most. He seemed like a nice pony. Around midnight, I heard a series of shots coming from the woods. I had dismissed it and tried to get back to sleep. But the gunfire seemed to increase in volume and intensity. I finally emerged from my tent, only to find our pickets scrambling back to the camp, out of breath. They said they were met with, what at first seemed to be enemy skirmishers, but eventually turned out to be a large attack force.

Toothpick alerted the camp. “To arms, to arms!” Stallions were emerging from their tents. They grabbed their cartridge boxes and other leathers, struggling to get their gear on. “Form a line on me!” Toothpick exclaimed. Our company was formed. In the middle of the woods, a long river separates the two sides. We were deployed on one side, while the rebels were deployed on the other. We were given orders. “Load!” We brought out a clip, inserted it into the rifle and primed it. “Ready! Aim!” Our sights were set on the enemy, our first taste of combat. “Fire!”. At that moment, our side of the woods was ablaze with the flashes of rifles. Ponies on the other side were mowed down like cattle. The rebel commander spoke up. “Dress your ranks!” “Ready! Present! Fire!”. Men in our line were cut down. A stallion to the immediate right of me fell, wallowing on the ground in agony. Toothpick’s voice again spoke up. “Ready! Aim!”. Smoke surrounded the entire area. I couldn’t see 10 feet in front of me. I could barely make out the faint silhouettes of ponies. “Fire!” I saw the pony of which I was aiming at be struck down by my bullet. The 23rd Regiment of Hoofburg volunteers came in to reinforce us. They were very much needed. By 2AM, the battle was still going on strong. I thought my barrel was going to melt it was so hot. I had no rounds left. The ranks of both sides were severely dwindled.

The rebel commander withdrew his men. We had our muskets at the ready, just in case. A few minutes past, we all stood, not knowing what would happen. At that moment, I heard a sound, which will forever stay with me. It was the neighing of ponies, but it was….demented. It sounded like some sort of barbaric war cry. Out of the smoke, emerged a full battalion of rebels with bayonets at the ready! They proceeded to cross the river! Finally, we were given a change of orders. “Company, cease fire! Right Face! By files right, at the double quick, march!” We were run out of that hornet’s nest. We ran for our lives. Our entire line broke. We ran out of the woods in a mass rout. As we reached a large hill, I was met with a site for sore eyes. The cavalry was here!  Pegasi from the 3rd Cloudsdale flew up from the cover of the hill. Armed with carbines, they took down our pursuers until they retreated back into the woods. We wouldn’t have made it without them. As we organized back into our separate regiments, we marched back to HQ.

Upon reaching it, we were met with the General, who said he had just sent couriers to tell them to retreat to Ponyville. Apparently, the very same thing that happened to us, had happened to the whole army. The rebs were closing in on our position. At 4AM, our company, along with the rest of the army, began its long march towards Ponyville.