Other shots followed from the same direction. The woods behind us
were evidently occupied by the enemy's skirmishers. A captain
volunteered to take his company and clear the woods, but ammunition was
too scarce to waste on sharpshooters.
Word came at last, in some way, that Thomas, whose firing we heard far
to the right and rear, was sorely pressed. A consultation was held by
the four division generals. They needed a commander, but who should it
be? Who would take command of that beleaguered force and undertake to
extricate it from its surrounding peril or deliver it over to Thomas?
Would Palmer? No. Would Reynolds? No. The stern duty of fighting their
divisions until they could fight no longer, and doing then whatever
desperate thing might be possible--that they would not fail in; but that
responsibility was as great as they cared to assume. Up came Hazen then.
"I'll take my brigade across that interval," said he, "and find Thomas
if he's there." Palmer objected: it would make a gap in his line; it
would expose one of his brigades to a thousand chances of
destruction--for who could tell what forces of the enemy were in that
interval or watching it?--and finally, it would take away the brigade
which had most ammunition, for Hazen had husbanded his store. But
something must be done. If the four divisions could hold out until
night, somebody must command them and take them out if it could be done.
Thomas was the proper commander, and he was needed.
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