The road to Antietam was bumpy and dirt-filled. Ethan sat in a carriage, jostling back and forth as the horses pulled it forward. He held a map in his hands, studying it intently. The map was old, hand-drawn, but it was accurate enough. He had marked the key locations— the river crossings, the high ground, the rail lines.
He was on his way to meet with General McClellan, the Union commander at Antietam. McClellan was a cautious man, a man who liked to plan every detail. Ethan knew that convincing him to change his strategy would be difficult. But he also knew that it was necessary.
The carriage arrived at McClellan's headquarters— a small farm house on the outskirts of Sharpsburg. Ethan was shown inside. McClellan was sitting at a table, surrounded by his staff. He was a short, stocky man with a thick mustache. His eyes were sharp, his expression serious.
"Mr. Voss," McClellan said. "The President has told me about you. He says you have a plan to stop Lee."
Ethan nodded. "I do, General. But it requires us to change our approach. We can't just sit back and defend. We need to attack. We need to cut off Lee's supply lines."
McClellan frowned. "Attack? That's risky. Lee's army is stronger than ours. If we attack and fail, we'll lose the high ground. We'll lose the battle."
"I understand the risk," Ethan said. "But it's the only way to win. Lee's army is dependent on supplies. If we cut them off, he'll have to retreat. He'll have to fight with his back to the wall."
McClellan studied the map. He pointed to a bend in the Potomac River. "Lee's supply trains are crossing here. They're protected by two regiments. If we attack, we'll have to fight through them. It won't be easy."
"I know," Ethan said. "But we have the advantage. We know where they are. We know their strength. We can surprise them."
McClellan thought for a long moment. He looked at his staff. They were all silent, waiting for his decision.
"Very well," McClellan said. "I'll give you two regiments. You can attack the supply trains. But if you fail, don't come back complaining."
Ethan smiled. "Thank you, General. I won't fail."
He left the farm house, feeling confident. He had convinced McClellan. He had the troops he needed. Now, he just needed to execute the plan.
He walked to the camp where the two regiments were stationed. The soldiers were lined up, ready to move. They were young, mostly boys in their late teens and early twenties. Their uniforms were worn, their shoes were tattered. But their eyes were bright with determination.
"Men," Ethan said, standing in front of them. "We have a mission. We need to attack Lee's supply trains. We need to cut off his food and ammunition. We need to show him that the Union is not to be messed with."
The soldiers cheered. They were ready to fight. They were ready to win.
Ethan led the soldiers toward the Potomac River. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and red. The river flowed gently, its surface reflecting the colors of the sky.
They arrived at the bend in the river. The supply trains were there, just as Ethan had predicted. They were guarded by two regiments of Confederate soldiers. The soldiers were sitting around campfires, eating, talking, laughing. They were not expecting an attack.
Ethan signaled to the soldiers. They spread out, taking cover behind trees and rocks. They loaded their rifles, their hands steady.
"Now," Ethan whispered.
The soldiers opened fire. The Confederate soldiers were caught off guard. They jumped up, reaching for their rifles. But it was too late. The Union soldiers were too close. They charged forward, their bayonets gleaming in the sunset.
The Confederate soldiers fought back, but they were outnumbered. They were outgunned. They were outmaneuvered.
Ethan watched as the battle unfolded. He saw Union soldiers charging forward, shouting, screaming. He saw Confederate soldiers falling, their bodies hitting the ground. He saw the supply trains catching fire, the smoke rising into the sky.
It was chaotic. It was brutal. It was war.
But it was working. The Confederate soldiers were retreating. The supply trains were burning. Lee's supply lines were cut.
Ethan smiled. He had done it. He had attacked. He had won.
But the battle wasn't over. Lee's army was still nearby. They would be angry. They would be looking for revenge.
Ethan signaled to the soldiers. "Retreat!" he shouted. "Back to camp!"
The soldiers began to retreat. They were tired. They were wounded. But they were happy. They had won.
As they walked back to camp, Ethan thought about what had happened. He thought about the soldiers who had died. He thought about the ones who had been wounded. He thought about the cost of victory.
But he also thought about the future. He thought about the Union. He thought about Lincoln.
He knew that this was just the beginning. He knew that there would be more battles. He knew that more lives would be lost.
But he also knew that he was on the right track. He knew that he was saving the Union.
He arrived back at camp. McClellan was waiting for him. He had a smile on his face.
"You did it," McClellan said. "You cut off Lee's supply lines. He'll have to retreat."
Ethan nodded. "He will. But he won't be gone for long. He'll regroup. He'll attack again."
"I know," McClellan said. "But now we're ready. Now we have the upper hand."
Ethan smiled. He knew that McClellan was right. They had the upper hand. They had the momentum.
But he also knew that they couldn't let their guard down. They had to stay focused. They had to keep fighting.
As night fell, Ethan sat by a campfire. He looked up at the stars. He thought about his own time. He thought about Elise. He thought about the life he had left behind.
But he also thought about the life he was building. He thought about the Union. He thought about the future.
He knew that he had made the right choice. He knew that he was where he was supposed to be.
He closed his eyes. He said a silent prayer. He prayed for the soldiers. He prayed for the Union. He prayed for peace.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a figure standing in the shadows. It was a man, tall and lean. He was wearing a Confederate uniform.
Ethan stood up, reaching for his rifle. "Who are you?" he asked.
The man stepped into the light. He had a weathered face and a scar across his cheek. His eyes were cold, but there was a hint of respect in them.
"I'm Silas Hale," the man said. "I'm a scout for Lee's army."
Ethan frowned. "What do you want?"
Silas smiled. "I want to talk to you. I want to tell you something. Lee's not going to retreat. He's going to attack. He's going to attack at dawn."
Ethan's heart skipped a beat. He knew that Silas was telling the truth. He knew that Lee was not the type to retreat. He knew that he was going to fight.
"Thank you," Ethan said.
Silas nodded. "I don't agree with this war. I don't agree with what the Confederacy is fighting for. But I'm a soldier. I have to follow orders."
He turned to leave. "Good luck, Mr. Voss. You're going to need it."
Ethan watched as Silas walked into the shadows. He knew that he had just received a warning. He knew that he had to prepare.
He ran to McClellan's headquarters. He burst inside.
"General," Ethan said. "Lee's going to attack at dawn. We need to prepare."
McClellan's smile faded. He stood up. "Are you sure?"
Ethan nodded. "A Confederate scout told me. His name is Silas Hale. He's reliable."
McClellan thought for a moment. He nodded. "Very well. We'll prepare. We'll set up defenses. We'll be ready."
Ethan smiled. He knew that they would be. He knew that they would win.
As dawn approached, the soldiers prepared for battle. They dug trenches. They set up artillery. They loaded their rifles.
Ethan stood on a hill, watching the sunrise. The sky was pink and gold. The air was cool. The birds were singing.
But there was no beauty in the morning. There was only war.
He saw Lee's army approaching. They were a mass of gray, stretching as far as the eye could see. They were marching forward, their steps steady. Their flags were flying.
Ethan took a deep breath. He was ready.
The first shot was fired. It was a cannonball, soaring through the air. It hit the ground, exploding.
The battle had begun.
Ethan watched as the two armies clashed. He saw Union soldiers fighting. He saw Confederate soldiers fighting. He saw bodies falling. He saw blood flowing.
It was a nightmare. It was hell on earth.
But Ethan didn't look away. He couldn't. He had to watch. He had to make sure that his plan worked.
He saw Lee's army pushing forward. He saw the Union lines beginning to waver. He saw McClellan looking worried.
Ethan knew that he had to do something. He had to turn the tide.
He ran to the artillery battery. "Fire at the center of Lee's line!" he shouted. "Concentrate your fire!"
The artillerymen nodded. They loaded the cannons. They aimed. They fired.
The cannonballs soared through the air. They hit Lee's line, exploding. The Confederate soldiers fell, their bodies flying.
The Union lines rallied. The soldiers charged forward, shouting, screaming. They pushed Lee's army back.
Ethan smiled. He knew that they were winning. He knew that Lee's army was beginning to crumble.
But Lee was not done. He ordered his reserves to attack. The Confederate soldiers charged forward, their bayonets gleaming.
The Union lines were pushed back again. The soldiers were tired. They were wounded. They were beginning to lose hope.
Ethan knew that he had to do something else. He had to give the soldiers a reason to keep fighting.
He climbed onto a horse. He drew his sword. He shouted, "Follow me!"
He charged forward, toward Lee's line. The Union soldiers saw him. They cheered. They followed him.
They charged into the Confederate line. They fought with everything they had. They stabbed. They shot. They clubbed.
Ethan fought alongside them. He swung his sword. He killed Confederate soldiers. He was wounded, but he didn't stop.
He saw Silas Hale. The Confederate scout was fighting, his rifle in his hand. Their eyes met. Silas hesitated. He lowered his rifle.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He swung his sword. Silas fell to the ground.
Ethan looked at him. He saw the life leaving his eyes. He felt a twinge of sadness. But he also knew that this was war. This was necessary.
The Confederate line crumbled. The soldiers retreated. They ran. They left their weapons. They left their wounded. They left their dead.
The Union soldiers cheered. They won. They had defeated Lee's army. They had saved the Union.
Ethan dismounted. He walked over to McClellan. The general was smiling. He extended his hand.
"You did it," McClellan said. "You saved us. You saved the Union."
Ethan shook his hand. "We did it, General. We all did it."
As the sun rose higher, the soldiers celebrated. They hugged. They laughed. They cried.
Ethan stood there, watching them. He felt a sense of pride. He felt a sense of accomplishment.
But he also felt a sense of sadness. He felt the weight of the lives lost. He felt the weight of the war.
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 looked up at the sky. He thought about Lincoln. He thought about the future.
He knew that he had answered the first summon. He knew that he had made a difference.
And he knew that there would be more summons. More challenges. More battles.
But he was ready. He was ready to fight. He was ready to win. He was ready to build a better future.
The first summon had been answered. The war was changing. The Voss Dynasty was beginning.