About this story
You play Henry Fleming, counting your cartridges twice and asking a veteran whether any training survives the first loud minute — while the friend beside you thumps his chest and swears he cannot picture himself running. Then an officer rides across the clearing with paper in his hand, and the order is ten minutes to form with full packs.
Who you’ll meet
Wilson, the loud young private in your hut, counting somebody else's cartridges out loud so the whole room hears him, with Jim Conklin and his rumour close behind and the one veteran whose kit has miles on it saying nothing at the wall.
How it opens
Cold dawn found the regiment sprawled beside roads churned into mud by army wagons.
Smoke from low fires clung beneath the trees and sharpened every unwashed uniform.
Jim ConklinHenry, I heard we move tomorrow, and this time the word is certain.
You called yesterday's word certain too, Jim.
CorporalPack what you own and believe nothing until the bugle agrees.
Choose
Who gave you the order this time?
I will believe the road when our feet are on it.