Major General Blewitt read the report. He then re- read the report. And then again.
He was silent.
He felt very alone.
Two minutes later, he relayed the contents to his subordinates.
His officers stood there looking at him, awaiting his orders. They were also very silent.
Major Blewitt had never experienced an actual battle before.
He'd never even been involved in an actual fist fight before.
And now a full blown war was arriving - right on his doorstep. Hell, it was knocking down his front door.
He's been stationed to the Delaware peninsular two years ago to 'search for a box'.
His family and their close political connections to government, had ensured that his time in the civil war was spent trudging around a peninsular that was far away from any fighting involving the southern army.
He was sure that one of his uncles had made up a whole story of 'the box' , just to keep him from harms way.
Only minutes after hearing about Lee's defeat at Gettysburg, the rider had arrived with this information.
While people's shouts could be heard outside, cheering the defeat of the southern army, he was reading about the invasion of the peninsular.
'How could this be?,' Was his first reaction...and then he realized that Lee's battle of Gettysburg may have well been a ruse, a elaborate diversion to hide the true intent, which was this action.
Maybe the story of 'the box' wasn't one of his uncles concoctions after all....
What was for sure - is that he was on his own.
Lee's army had the entire focus of the Union forces and they were chasing him southwards - Directly away from where he now found himself.
"Denton...," He said quietly...."Denton..".
" Sir? " , Said Brigadier General Doomsday - Chassis.
"The Rebels are at Denton, goddamn it! They're in Denton!.."
"You're orders, sir?" , Said Doomsday-Chassis.
Major General Blewitt had no idea what his orders were.
He was frozen.
Thirty minutes ago, he was cheering the victory at Gettysburg... and now he was facing god knows how many, screaming rebels heading right in his direction.
'Why couldn't this be in three days?', He glumly thought to himself.
He was on due to be on leave in two days, and was headed for Washington for an international comic convention. (his secret passion).
He was really looking forward to it to, hearing of the rumors of the imported french 'risque' photography, only adding to his excitement..
There was masses of it reportedly, doing the rounds at the convention.
There was so much of this new erotic photography from Europe in fact, that the comic meeting had now acquired the name 'Eroticon..'
"Okay, gentleman, where exactly are our forces, at the moment?" He said. (he didn't have a clue, he'd just left his brigadiers to coordinate the search).
The brigadiers looked at each other nervously.
" They're spread out all over the place, sir!," Blurted out Doomsday- Chassis, " We weren't exactly deployed expecting the enemy to arrive."
Brigadier Doomsday- Chassis had no idea where any of his regiments were! - he'd just left his colonels to coordinate matters concerning the search for a non existent box.
He was far more interested in building things , and he spent his hours in a shed, constructing wagons. He had no interest looking for box. Not unless he had built it himself.
Wagons, not war, was his way of thinking..
Brigadier Dexterdumb was sweating profusely.
He knew roughly where his regiments were positioned.
What he didn't quite understand, was what the hell was going on.
Two of his colonels and himself had spent the last two days drinking whiskey, and eating masses of mushrooms that the natives had procured for him, and his officers.
General Blewitt now looked very strange to Brigadier Dexterdumb, as did everyone else in the room in fact.
Their faces kept sliding down off their faces, if that were possible - and then resetting back to 'normal' every few seconds.
He felt like giggling, but knew that wouldn't be appropriate.
'Appropriate', He thought to himself, 'How do you get so many 'P's in one word? That made him want to giggle some more, but knew he shouldn't. War was a serious affair.
It must be , there were no 'P's in a war, unless it was in a pea field of course...
He looked out of the window, trying to appear in deep thought. He was actually thinking how pretty the roof of the building opposite, looked.
He knew that the roof was made up of grey tiles, but his eyes told him a very different story.
Cascading multi-colors of tiles, sliding off the roof, and then resetting again....
He then burst out laughing, uncontrollably...
Brigadier General Baah looked over at Dexterdumb, in total disdain.
His fellow officer was bent over in paroxysms of laughter, muttering something about ' too many p's to be appropriate'...
'Quite bizarre', Baah thought.
He couldn't work out the 'why' of Brigadier Dexterdumb's mirth, but he did know that oncoming invading hordes of the southern army, was no laughing matter.
' Has he wet himself?' Baah thought, looking over at the mess called Dexterdumb, leaning heavily against the window...
Brigadier General Belemo wasn't laughing. He hardly ever laughed.
He was known to his men as the most humorless man in the Union army. And not just known about in his own brigade, either.
Letter's were received from their friends in the western theater - over a thousand miles away- asking ' Has Belemo cracked a smile yet?'
But at least he knew where all his regiments were.
He wasn't a hundred percent sure, in all honesty.
The truth be told, he had lost touch with his colonels over this last few days.
He had been studying in his room, cut off from the outside world, and quite, quite alone.
He was studying literature from New York. He was studying comedy.
He wanted to be on stage as a comedian when the fighting was over, and he was studying hard for his new career.
It was no laughing matter.
....and after this awful war was over, he wanted to be strutting the boardwalk, making people chortle.
He knew he had a talent for it...