Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Torn Part Six by Sky Corgan Madagascar 2020, part 6 (Antsirabe, Miandrivazo, road to Morondava) After Rija, our driver in Madagascar, picked us up at the airport in Antananarivo, we first stopped at a largish supermarket to buy water and something to eat along the way and then in the dark we headed towards Antsirabe, a town that is located almost in the very centre of this country and from which roads fork towards west and southwest. The distance between Antananarivo and Antsirabe is around 170 km and it was precisely because of this distance and the time it took the car to cover it (almost four hours) that it was ideal to arrive in Antsirabe that same evening in order not to disturb the remainder of our travel around Madagascar. I presume that after the very odd night, to say the least, and a stressful day filled with worry about whether and when we would arrive by the flight that was moved by around 10 hours at some point I felt very exhausted and then, apologising to Rija, I lowered my passenger seat and even managed a couple of times to doze off briefly which is extremely rare in my case at least when it comes to napping in cars. We arrived at the bed and breakfast in Antsirabe almost at midnight and we had to get up early in order to continue in line with the itinerary. We almost felt very sorry about this, since we had an extremely cute room and although we certainly would not spend our free time inside, it really felt good to be surrounded by beauty and harmonious interior decoration. The surroundings of the B&B, itself located in a very nice house, constituted a direct opposite – there was a torn up, muddy street with improvised stalls, a large number of people going up and down on their business, but I did not mind this in the least. It was just completely different from the nicely decorated and perfectly clean bed & breakfast. Street in front of our B&B in Antsirabe. So, after that early breakfast we were ready to start with the “real” journey around Madagascar by car. In front of us, there was a westbound road leading to Morondava while the distance was around 500 km. The expected duration of the travel was between 8 and 10 hours, but to start with we drove up the steep street with a market that extended in front of the B&B where we had spent our night. By the way, town Antsirabe is famous for its rickshaws, but I must say that we kept seeing them in other places as well. The only thing that made them a little more specific in Antsirabe was the fact that here there were more rickshaws which were pulled by their “driver” while moving on foot. Now would be a good time to say something about the geography of Madagascar. Madagascar is the fourth largest island in the world (after Greenland, New Guinea and Borneo). It surface area covers around 590,000 square kilometres, it is around 1600 km long and 570 km wide. As far as its population is concerned, in 2018 Madagascar had around 26.3 million inhabitants and as I’ve already mentioned, they are mostly young – the medial age is around 20 years. On this day we started with the touring of the country by car and as a reminder here is again the map of our stay in Madagascar. The straight lines mark flights, while the blue lines of an irregular shape show where we were driving. Although the morning in Antsirabe was cloudy, soon the Sun appeared and with time the blue sky became predominant. We had a long day’s drive ahead of us and Rija did not hesitate at all, but rather pressed on the gas. It was actually very good that he was driving and not me, because my drive would take at least 10 days since I would stop every couple of hundred of metres. Namely, behind every curve there was a new sight which to me all seemed stunning and unrepeatable. Was this about the houses made of fired or unfired bricks, possibly covered with some mud, or children who hastily filled up potholes in the road expecting to be given some money for that, or numerous rice paddies that were sporadically arranged on the terraces made along the slopes, or people working these fields, the ploughs and harrows pulled along the road by zebus after they had finished with their work in the fields, or rice that was scattered here and there in a thin layer by the road in order to dry. On the road to Morondava. Zebus on the road. Rice fields surrounded by hills. Some maize and much more rice paddies. Rice paddies tucked in-between hills. Incredibly bright green colour of young rice in the field and the harvested rice arranged on the road in order to dry. Incredibly bright green colour of young rice. Pouring rice on the road where it will dry. Perhaps what delighted me most were the landscapes that were dominated by the amazing red colour of soil which renders the other name for Madagascar – the Red Island – particularly in the combination with green vegetation, whether these were grasses, rice, agaves or trees. On top of this, the addition of the blue sky with a cloud here and there, all lit by the Sun, made these sights magnificent and even the greyness of the road covered in red dust coming from the surrounding earth could not spoil the beauty. I felt indescribable exaltation inspired by that splendour and my heart was filled with happiness, joy, enjoyment and gratitude to my destiny, the Universe, my Holy Guardian Angel or whichever force had brought me here and allowed me to feel my soul by looking at this spectacular beauty. Impressive sights of the Red Island. Impressive sights of the Red Island. Impressive sights of the Red Island. Impressive sights of the Red Island. Parallel to the east coast of Madagascar there are hills and mountains and thus in the middle part of this large islands there are the central highlands that have the average height between 750 m and 1500 m, while the highest mountain peak which is situated in the north of the country is 2876 m high. In that elevated central section, almost in the very centre of the island, there is the capital, Antananarivo, as well as Antsirabe, the town we left from that morning. East of the central mountains and hills, along the entire island, there is a narrow lowland area, while west of the highlands the lowland area is significantly wider. Also, with majority of its surface area Madagascar is located in the torrid zone, but its south sections lie along the Tropic of Capricorn, which typically means that the climate in these regions is dryer and thus the deserts are usually located precisely in the zones of the tropics. In addition, east of the island there is the vast Indian Ocean, while in the west there is its integral part which is specifically called the Mozambique Channel. The climate is divided into the rainy and the dry seasons, but because of the size of the territory, the direction in which the island extends and different altitudes, you get a very interesting combination of, I would call them, climate micro-zones and this certainly influences the landscapes, the vegetation, as well as human activities. Since I’m mentioning humans, let me say something about the destruction of forests on Madagascar. A good share of the vegetation changes that can be noticed even during a simple car drive are a result of massive deforestation in order to use this timber for industrial purposes on the one hand and on the other in order to increase the surface areas for the growing of agricultural crops. Unfortunately, the humans are not known for their long-term planning, but are more focused on short-term gains. What happens, however, in the long run is that the soil gets degraded very quickly since the Malagasy like to cultivate their crops in the traditional manner, which certainly makes the products healthy and unpolluted, but already after a couple of seasons the soil is basically destroyed and is no longer good for use (since they don’t have sufficient quantities of natural fertilisers, while the artificial ones are expensive and do not fit into the traditional manner of cultivation). At the same time, the lack of the living roots of those logged down trees also leads to erosion and the examples of such “caving in” of the land can be seen along the road we were driving on this day. As Rija told us, once upon a time, all these areas were covered in rainforests. Before reaching the town of Miandrivazo and particularly in the first part of that section we also passed through bigger or smaller villages where people went on about their daily life and they certainly dried their rice there, often not directly on the pavement, but arranged over some pieces of canvass placed on the hot road. Settlement on the road to Miandrivazo. Settlement on the road to Miandrivazo. From time to time, we also crossed bridges that had been constructed over smaller or bigger watercourses which were at this time of the year, during the rainy season, filled with muddy water which on Madagascar, the Red Island, was regularly bright red. One of the rivers on the road to Miandrivazo. Along the way we also came to one particular small river which was interesting for carrying rocks that contain gold. For this reason, it was possible to see on its rocky banks local residents who were getting bigger pieces of rocks from the river, crushing them then in order to pan the obtained powder looking for possible bigger pieces of gold residue. Gold-bearing river on the road to Miandrivazo. Crushing of the rocks taken from the river. Panning of the obtained rocky powder. Some 30 km before town Miandrivazo, where our plan was to have a lunch break, the road became rather bad, but Rija navigated it all very successfully. Road before Miandrivazo. However, the surrounding landscapes continued to be spectacular, although I could clearly see the change in the local climate and the soil, thus consequently in the vegetation as well. On the road to Miandrivazo. On the road to Miandrivazo. Right before Miandrivazo, the road starts to descend towards the lowland areas and there from the height it was possible to see one of a couple of big rivers that flow in this region. This was the Mahajilo which a little farther on joins the Mania thus creating a third river – the Tsiribihina. This third river, together with the river Manambolo that is located more to the north, is known for the cruises that are organised for visitors. Originally, I planned that the two of us should spend some 3 to 4 days sailing slowly down one of the two rivers, but I was told that January was not a good month for something like this since the rivers tend to flood (depending on the quantity of rain) and then the cruise did not make much sense. Town Miandrivazo is the most frequent starting point for these cruises, but it is also an unavoidable place where the travellers going in both directions between the central parts of the country and the town of Morondava on the shores of the Mozambique Channel make a break for lunch. Rija has told us that during the high season it is necessary to book table in the restaurants in advance and that it is impossible to find a free table unless previously arranged. There was no such danger in January, though, so we had a nice meal there and could even choose a table we wanted. The only thing that mattered was that the table had to be in the shade. In January, around noon, the Sun is almost directly above one’s head and then it is really seriously hot unless you are in the shade. After the lunch we continued with our drive. The road which until Miandrivazo leads in the east-west direction turns significantly and continues in the direction of the south. A little later, in the place called Malaimbandy, the road also visibly turns almost at a right angle and continues westwards and towards the ocean. All of this takes place in lowland parts of the country. In the meantime, I watched the clouds piling up in the west where we were heading and I wondered if we would be caught in the rain that had been forecasted so often. We also came across a large bridge over the river Mania. Clouds in the west of Madagascar. In addition to the river Mania, we saw along the way other, bigger or smaller watercourses and their levels depend on the quantity of the rainfall. What I found more exciting during this afternoon, in addition to the again different landscapes was the dramatic sky covered with clouds. Clouds above a shallow river on the road to Morondava. Road to Morondava. It was interesting that Rija told us that between Miandrivazo and Morondava we should not make any stops for any reason whatsoever, which confused me since if people talk about road safety it is usually emphasised that it was not safe to travel during the night, but our journey was taking place during the day. However, on the one hand, there are very few settlements in this particular part of the country and on the other, as far as I understood it, these areas are known for their zebu thieves who are ready, if they have nothing else, to take advantage when tourists make stops. I think that Rija was probably too strict and too careful, and that the situation was not that bad, but I also thought that there was no reason not to trust him and his good intentions, and there was certainly no need for us to stop. Along those almost 300 km, which is the distance between these two towns, there were very few villages. What happened more often was that we passed by a few huts made of mud, straw or wooden boards. From time to time I saw people lying down on the ground by the road in the shade made by some canopy, but there were also those who were working on something, such as, for instance, women who almost regularly carried different loads on their heads. Generally speaking, it was completely clear that the Malagasy start carrying things on their heads already as children. One gets an impression that this is done only by women, since they are seen like this more often, but I also noticed some men from time to time and this carrying of larger loads on one’s head seems like a skill that could not be learned at an advanced age, although it certainly ensures a very good posture. Houses beside the road to Morondava. Houses beside the road to Morondava. Houses beside the road to Morondava. The load is not carried only one one’s head. It is certainly more interesting in a company. And just as we were approaching Morondava we started to see them – the baobabs! The main reason for this long drive which we planned to repeat in the opposite direction in two days in order to continue visiting the rest of the country was precisely to come here and see baobabs from up close. Already back at home, I got this desire to approach a baobab and, if possible, hug it, but I was not sure it this was feasible. Let me say immediately – it is! Moreover, there is one that grows right beside the road to Morondava and Rija stopped there in order for us to take photos and in order for me to hug this fantastic and impressive tree. Baobab by the road. Baobabs are deciduous trees, so that at this time of the year, during the rainy season, their tops were filled with green leaves. Green top of a baobab. View upwards when one hugs a baobab. After this close encounter, we continued by car and soon we arrived in Morondava on the shore of the Mozambique Channel. Verica Ristic. Born and lives in Serbia. Free-lance interpreter/translator for English, but also speaks other languages (this helps a LOT when travelling). Grateful to the Universe for everything. Share this post. Subscribe for free to Svuda podji - travel stories. Get the latest posts delivered right to your inbox. or subscribe via RSS with Feedly! Madagascar 2020, part 7 (Morondava, Alley of the Baobabs, Kirindy Forest) After we had arrived in Morondava and left our things at a hotel, Sneža and I got out onto… Madagascar 2020, part 5 (Nosy Be) After the walk around the part where the animals were kept within a private reserve-distillery close to town Hell… Fox’s Mike Joy, Larry McReynolds, Matt Yocum, and Chris Myers look back at the first Daytona 500 on Fox 20 years ago. The 2001 Daytona 500 race was perhaps most notable for the death of Dale Earnhardt. Joy, McReynolds, Yocum and Myers all had thoughts to share on that, starting with Joy’s commentary on calling it from the booth : “The first thing we saw was the contact with Sterling Marlin, and then Dale’s car ending up hitting the wall at a glancing blow, which we regarded as significant but not overly so, so we turned our attention to calling the finish of the race. It was the last lap of the race, they were three-quarters of a mile from the finish line when that happened. But we called the finish, and that’s when Darrell expressed ‘Gee, I hope Dale’s okay.’ And we kind of from there went through the motions of Victory Lane and the order of finish while knowing something up there in turn four was not right.” “And we had no information at all from the track or the sanctioning body to go on. We could see them in the next booth, they were tight-lipped, ashen-faced, no communication at all, which told me that something was wrong. But I tried to run through the gamut of what could have happened. At the one end Earnhardt was seriously injured, perhaps fatally, but at the other end of the spectrum, he may have simply had a superficial wound that was bleeding profusely and been knocked unconscious. So we just didn’t know. The one thing we knew for sure was that if he was at all ambulatory, he would have found a way to make it to Victory Lane. Instead, we watched the ambulance going slowly towards the hospital.” McReynolds said it was a jump into the deep end for him. “We were probably a quarter of a lap away for having one of the most amazing, best Daytona 500s that that racetrack had seen in years. You probably would have had to go back to either 1998 or 1979 to have a bigger storyline. Michael Waltrip, making his first start for Dale Earnhardt, had never won a Cup race. Everybody had told Dale he was out of his mind for hiring this guy. And here his brother is part of the broadcast team, and Michael’s going to win his first race, and lo and behold, it’s going to be the Daytona 500. So that made it stand out and that made it very special. Obviously the thing that offset it was something that happened in turn four with the checkered flag waving, that honestly changed the sport, and that was where Dale Earnhardt was killed.” “Thank God we had Mike Joy, the ultimate professional, guiding the ship. Because remember, Darrell and I were absolutely raw rookies right in that booth, and I think we were a little bit in shock. Darrell and Dale were close friends, I was friends with Dale and had worked with him for two years, had won the 500 in ’98, and I think Darrell and I were a little bit lost. But Mike Joy took the ship and guided it and got us through that. Because as a broadcaster, the worst thing you can do is speculate when it comes to possibly an injury or a tragedy and a death. Mike Joy guided us through that and got us through that.” Yocum said Earnhardt had been particularly welcoming for him, adding an extra layer of difficulty to covering that crash. “When you look at everyone on who was on our broadcast, everyone had a relationship with Dale on some level, Darrell, Hammond, Larry, Mike, Dick Berggren, Steve Byrnes, myself. And Myers and Jeannie met him and got to know him during Speed Week. But the majority of us had different relationships with Dale. When I first moved to Charlotte, he was sort of like the Welcome Wagon. He told me the person to go to to get my hair cut, I still go to that same person, Steve Ellsworth. He told me to go to Steve Cook for my Nationwide insurance, I’m still with Steve Cook.” “And I remember the 2000 banquet, I could only get 5:55 a.m. because I was leaving that day to go to New York. And I pulled in and there was a orange-red Silverado catalytic converter ticking when I walked in, and it was the big E. And he goes ‘What are you doing?’, and I say ‘You’re in my seat, this is my slot.’ And he goes ‘Sit down, hey, I want to talk to you about this whole network TV thing. You tell me why this is going to be a game changer for the sport.’ And I started giving him different why it’s going to be bigger and better and the different tools and toys that we were bringing. And then when he was done, he sat back in my chair for 30 minutes, asking me questions because he wanted to know. That was the man; he didn’t see the forest through the trees because he was already on to the next forest. He had such vision. He always asked questions, he always educated himself. So to me, it’s tough to put words to what that day meant just because of what happened with him. I’ve never watched that race to this day.” Yocom also said that was hard, considering that he’d interviewed Earnhardt that morning. “My interview with Dale Earnhardt the morning of the race at his motor home was so funny, because he came out of his bus, sat down in the chair, and he said ‘Hey, how much time?’ I said ‘All right, here’s the deal; they’re going to come out of commercial and they’re going to come right to us.’ And they came out of commercial and they went to somebody else. ‘And he turns to me and says ‘The media, they lie to us every time!’ And I started laughing, and he was chuckling, and then seven months later, a friend of mine who was a close friend and my pit spotter, says ‘I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen this, but I wanted to send it to you.’ And I opened up the attachment, and it was a picture of Dale at that very moment, when I’ve already said to him what I’ve said and he’s replying and I’m laughing. So I was grateful to have forever an image of that moment.” Myers said Earnhardt’s death made the 2001 Daytona 500 a challenging introduction to the sport for him. “It was our first Fox network broadcast, so there was a lot going on. And I still am in disbelief that you lose the headliner of the sport in that first time you’re doing it. I had had experience, unfortunately; in my time at ESPN, my first year at ESPN, I was the reporter on scene with Chris Berman and Bob Ley at the earthquake World Series (in 1989) between the A’s and Giants. And then in 1996, I was doing the Up Close show and was on the air over the late SportsCenter from the Olympics when the bomb went off, and I stayed on through the night reporting. So I had had, unfortunately, experience with sporting events that went way out of line and became real-life human events. And so as the host in the chair of the pre-race and post-race coverage, once we got confirmation, I had to deliver the news.” “And it was a lot of, you know, we know it, but we can’t announce it until the family knows. Because when it happened, we all thought, even those who knew the sport much better than I, it was a tough wreck, but guys had walked away from a lot worse. And with Michael Waltrip racing and winning, and with Darrell Waltrip in the booth, there was so much emotion that it went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in a short span of time. …And we had to put on in a short amount of time, I’m the sports guy, I’m the news guy, and then there’s the human element, and we have to deliver this news as best we can.” “It’s a little bit of a blur now, and I was with guys who were numbed by it. They were torn apart. And just watching them, and I’d interviewed him that week and I’d interviewed him before, that was very difficult on all of us. But certainly, once you start out with something like that, anything after that is it is a big improvement. It did change the sport. And his great legacy was he made it better for future drivers and really forced that change.” Myers said the NASCAR community also rallied around him after a loss of his own. “With the death of Dale Earnhardt and knowing Dale Earnhardt Jr., I lost my son eight years ago, and that was the only races I missed when I was working NASCAR on Fox. And the NASCAR community was very supportive and helped my family through this. And the irony is this Daytona 500 will fall on on that exact day. And I don’t know what that all means, but it is something I’ll be thinking about.” About Andrew Bucholtz. Andrew Bucholtz is a staff writer for Awful Announcing and The Comeback. He previously worked at Yahoo! Sports Canada and Black Press. Die größten Hörerlebnisse nur bei Audible. Erlebe Audible auf dem Smartphone, Tablet, am Computer oder deinem Amazon Echo. Auch offline. Die größten Hörerlebnisse. Entdecke genau das, was du hören willst: Wähle aus 200.000 Titeln und inspirierenden Audible Original Podcasts. Natürlich werbefrei. Genieße dein Hörerlebnis ohne Unterbrechung. Einfach ausprobieren. Teste Audible 30 Tage kostenlos. Du kannst jederzeit kündigen. Hör die Welt mit anderen Augen. Mit Audible Originals und exklusiven Geschichten. Wir können dich kaum erwarten! Entdecke Audible einen Monat lang völlig kostenlos. Genieße jeden Monat ein Hörerlebnis deiner Wahl - und so viele exklusive Audible Original Podcasts, wie du willst. Keine Bindung, keine Frist – du kannst dein Abo jederzeit pausieren oder kündigen. THE STORY OF GETTYSBURG Part Six: "The Best Three Hours' Fighting. " The 6th installment of an 8-part series on the Battle of Gettysburg in remembrance of its 150th anniversary. July 2, 1863. DAY TWO. Lee's most trusted soldier and second in command, Lieutenant General James Longstreet, arrived in Gettysburg ahead of his powerful 1 st Corps in time to observe the end of the first day's battle. He took stock of the victory, but unlike the jubilant Rebels all around him he was not pleased. The Yankees were clearly visible digging in on the hills south of town and he could see they had the better position supported by a wall of cannons arrayed along the hilltops. Longstreet, unlike the colorful Jackson, was a somber man, having in the span of one week lost three young children no older than six to scarlet fever in January of 1862. He was also a student of modern warfare; when it came to a contest between high powered artillery supported by rifled muskets firing from cover versus attacking out in the open en masse he came down hard on the side of the defensive. It was his 1 st Corps in December 1862 at the Battle of Fredericksburg that massacred waves of massed Union troops who repeatedly charged across open ground towards his well-entrenched positions, leaving a blue carpet of 10,000 dead and wounded in the field before him. Now, studying XI Corps and I Corps positions, he could envision a Fredericksburg in reverse should this accidental battle continue. Having struck a punishing blow against the enemy, Longstreet reasoned the best move now was to disengage and swing south to get between the Army of the Potomac and Washington, D.C., take up a strong defensive position and wait for the attack that Meade would be compelled to launch, otherwise the Union capital would be threatened. He offered this advice to Lee, but, as Longstreet would later say, Lee's blood was up. Lee had tasted victory. "If he is there tomorrow," Lee declared, gesturing at the Union lines "I am going to attack him." But Longstreet rebutted: "General, if he is there tomorrow it is because he wants you to attack him. A good enough reason in my judgment for not doing so." Find out what's happening in Westfield with free, real-time updates from Patch. So began a major point of contention between the number one and two commanders of the Army of Northern Virginia in the midst of a desperate battle that would have a deleterious effect on the fighting yet to come. Meanwhile on the Union side, General Meade, tired, stressed, and ill-tempered, reined up at the gatehouse of the Evergreen Cemetery with his staff at around midnight. Hancock and Howard briefed him on the day's fighting. III Corps and XII Corps commanders Major Generals Sickles and Slocum respectively also reported the arrival of their fresh forces. Chief engineer Brigadier General Gouverneur Warren accompanied Meade as he toured the site. Meade approved the choice of battlefield and offered laconically: "Well, we may as well fight it out here." Orders went out to the Army of the Potomac's three remaining corps—Hancock's II, Sykes' V, Sedgwick's VI—to concentrate on Gettysburg on the double. Some units would log forced marches of thirty-five miles that night to arrive by the next afternoon. The exhausted men were given no lee-way by Meade who issued stern orders: "Officers are authorized to order the instant death of any man who fails to do his duty at this time." By the dusk of July 2, with the army united, Meade would have close to 95,000 men covering the three-mile long "fishhook" position. He decided to wait for Lee and his roughly 77,000 men to attack him. Find out what's happening in Westfield with free, real-time updates from Patch. That morning Lee, noting that the enemy was indeed still there, laid out his attack plans, much to the dismay of Longstreet. Ewell would try again to take the hills just south of the town on the Union right. Simultaneously, Longstreet's two fresh divisions, newly arrived and bivouacked on Seminary Ridge, would strike the Union left en echelon , one going in first then the other progressively moving northwards along the axis of attack. (Longstreet's third division under Major General George Pickett was not expected on the field until too late in the day to participate). The mauled two-thirds of the sickly A.P. Hill's 3 rd Corps would remain in reserve on Seminary Ridge while Hill struck near the Union center with parts of his one unscathed division under Major General R.H. Anderson. Lee mistakenly believed that the Union left was exposed and vulnerable, and envisioned a massive flank attack the same as at Chancellorsville. But because he still lacked Stuart's cavalry to be his "eyes and ears" and reconnoiter the ground, he had to rely on his staff officers to feel out the Union positions. They got it all wrong. It took almost until mid-afternoon for Longstreet to gather his two divisions under Major Generals John Bell Hood and Lafayette McLaws and move them into position. First off was his concern that one of Hood's brigades had not yet arrived on the field. Opposed to staying and fighting here at all, Longstreet at least wanted his attack to be made with the full weight of his two divisions. "I don't like going into battle with one boot off," he grumbled. But Lee grew impatient; he ordered him to make do with what he had and get moving. (The brigade arrived in time to join the attack.) Longstreet's march from Seminary Ridge to the jumping off point well south of town required several backtracks to avoid his 14,000 man force being spotted by Union observers high up on Little Round Top. In fact, it was nearing 4:30 p.m. before Longstreet, openly harboring a lack of enthusiasm for the plan, was in position for the assault. The Rebels expected to see an exposed Union left flank. Instead, as Genl. McLaws recalled, "the view astonished me as the enemy was massed in my front, and extended to my right and left as far as I could see." They faced a solid wall of blue in the form of Union General Dan Sickles' entire III Corps anchored on high ground 900 yards out in front of, and detached from, the rest of Meade's battle line on Cemetery Ridge. Lee's scouts somehow missed this new enemy position. Dan Sickles was a turbulent New York politician best known before the war for having shot and killed his wife's lover. Now a general in charge of a Union corps, he was unhappy with his placement on the southern end of Cemetery Ridge that is basically flat. So he took it upon himself to move his III Corps out to slightly higher ground farther forward by farmer Sherfy's Peach Orchard. In so doing he'd opened up a half-mile gap in Meade's line as the newly stretched out position was too wide for III Corps' 9,800 men to cover and also stay connected to Hancock's II Corps on his right. This move also left the strategic Little Round Top undefended. Sickles' move did have the effect of further delaying the Confederate assault as Longstreet's battle plan had to be changed at the last minute. Hood's division was re-positioned farther right to accommodate the new Union flank. He now would have to charge uphill through a curious field of massive boulders, shallow streams and stone fences called Devil's Den at the base of Little Round Top; this was "broken ground" unsuited for maneuvering large bodies of troops. Hood protested. Three times he asked Longstreet for permission to move farther to the right for better positioning. Three times the agitated Longstreet refused. It was getting late. He sent Hood a final sharp reply: "It is General Lee's orders. The time is up. Attack at once!" Meanwhile Meade, known for his atomic temper, had galloped out to Sickles and screamed that his position was indefensible because Rebel gunners could sweep it and their infantry could attack his salient from two sides with no close support on his flanks. But it was too late to pull back. When Sickles asked Meade if he should withdraw, as if on cue the guns of the South opened fire. "I wish you could," shouted Meade over the noise, "but the enemy won't let you!" Finally, at five o'clock in the evening, with the sun already low in the western sky, the Confederate artillery roared and wave upon wave of Rebels burst towards the Union lines. On Culp's and Cemetery Hills on the northern flank Ewell's assaults got underway. At the same time, in the Devil's Den, Peach Orchard and surrounding farms on the southern part of the field, first Hood and then McLaws on the Union left, then Anderson in the left-center launched a two-mile-wide offensive that would see of some of the fiercest attacks of the Civil War. In just a few hours of concentrated violence the Rebels and the Yankees slugged it out like demons possessed—Confederate troops screaming the Rebel yell as they crashed upon their Union adversaries who fought with equal determination to hold their ground. "The balls were flying so thick," wrote a Texas veteran, "that you could have held your hat up and caught it full." Men fell by the thousands with woodlots, plowed fields, ravines, barns, even fence rails and single boulders changing hands many times as unit after unit was committed by both sides into the melee. Rebel and Federal artillery pieces ringed the battlefield, either engaged in counter-battery fire or directly in the field supporting their respective infantry. The guns blasted away non-stop, filling the air with deadly projectiles—solid shot that tumbled and plowed through ranks like bowling balls, time-fused case shot that exploded in starbursts over men's heads and rained deadly chunks of metal down on them, and, at close range, canister which fired little iron balls that turned artillery pieces into massive shot-guns, ripping swaths into infantry formations. The din of battle could be heard for miles as the very ground over which the men fought shook. As Meade predicted, Sickles' III Corps could not hold its exposed salient. It was mercilessly assaulted by a tightly packed line of McClaws' Rebels spearheaded by a brigade of Mississippians led by the white-haired Brigadier General William Barksdale that rolled like a juggernaut through the Peach Orchard, unchecked by Union muskets and cannon tearing through their lines. (Barksdale would be mortally wounded leading from the front, dying the next morning.) After bitter fighting Sickles' line collapsed under the weight of Longstreet's powerful two division assault in what was looking like a repeat of the first day's fighting. Sickles himself would have his leg torn off by a solid shot…he was carried off the field leaning up in his litter coolly smoking a cigar. Meade could hear the fighting on the high hills on his right flank and sensed that Lee was trying a double-envelopment. But it was his left that was in jeopardy as Hood's and McLaws' howling men seemed on the verge of breaking his lines by hitting them with what their proud 1 st Corps commander would later hail, with some justification, as "the best three hours' fighting done by any troops on any battlefield." But Meade remained calm. Taking advantage of his concave interior lines, he methodically stripped troops from one part of his position or from his reserve V and VI Corps and fed them in to support Sickles' disintegrating front, plugging gaps in the line to prevent any Confederate break-through from becoming a rout. The seesaw fighting swirled unabated, ripping through once obscure landmarks that now occupy hallowed places in U.S. history: the Peach Orchard, the Rose Woods, the bloody Wheatfield, the rock strewn Devil's Den, the Valley of Death. On Little Round Top itself, Union Chief Engineer Warren, sent by Meade to inspect the summit, was stunned to find it virtually empty; he could see the grey tide of Hood's charging division headed his way. He immediately spurred his horse down the reverse slope and sent his couriers off to inform general Meade and find help. The first unit to answer Warren's calls was Col. Strong Vincent's Union brigade of the V Corps coming to Sickles' aid. Vincent took it upon himself to bypass the chain of command by not seeking corps commander Sykes' permission but scrambled his brigade up to the top just in time to throw back the climbing Rebels in a desperate struggle that was often hand-to-hand. Had Hood's men taken Little Round Top, their guns could have dominated the Union position below. Sadly, Vincent (a Harvard Law graduate turned soldier) was killed. He was posthumously promoted to Brigadier General, earning much-deserved accolades along with Warren for quick thinking that quite possibly saved the Union army that day. Meanwhile on Culp's and Cemetery Hills the fighting was ferocious as the Rebels attacked, were pushed back down the hills, re-formed, attacked again, were repelled again far beyond twilight, the muzzle flashes piercing the sinister nightfall like angry fireflies. But the Yankees were dug in too well and they held the high ground. Eventually the Confederate attack lost steam, slowed by Union reinforcements, heavy losses, fatigue and darkness. Without Picket's division Longstreet had no fresh reserves to exploit his gains and was finally compelled to call off the attack. As the fighting subsided, a new chorus of moans and screams of the wounded to be added to the previous day's harvest of misery once again replaced the sharp echoes of battle. Meade would conclude, as Wellington had at Waterloo forty-eight years before, that it was a close run thing. "But it's alright now," he said with relief to his gathering generals as the last of the Rebels withdrew. "It's alright now." By sundown it was clear that, though grievously wounded (especially Sickles' ruined III Corps), the Union Army was still holding firm as neither flank was broken. But Lee knew he had come so close. At one point during the height of the evening's fighting, he witnessed one of Anderson's brigades, advancing from McLaws' left, rush towards the Union center. They penetrated all the way to the crest of Cemetery Ridge by a clump of trees that stood silhouetted against the sky before they were beaten back Union reinforcements. Lee wondered: If one brigade could get that far what could an all-out assault of full divisions on the center achieve? July 2 was the bloodiest of the three days' fighting at Gettysburg and in fact saw some of the severest combat of the entire war. About 9,000 Confederates and 10,000 Union men were scythed down in just a few hours. Among the casualty rolls were several senior officers including CSA General Pender mortally wounded, and Hood, struck by shrapnel early in the fight, losing the use of an arm. Harry Heth had been hit and incapacitated late on July 1, his skull cracked by a bullet. For the North, not only had they lost Reynolds the day before, but several division and brigade commanders had fallen as well. Gettysburg was taking a toll on the high command of both armies in a manner unheard of on modern battlefields. And the issue still had yet to be decided. That night, Longstreet, lamenting the damage done to two magnificent infantry divisions for no significant gains, once again pressed Lee about moving south and taking the defensive. Lee at this point had had enough of his recalcitrant lieutenant and would hear none of it. "I am going to whip him here," he insisted. "Or he is going to whip me." The Desert Crystals – Part Six: The Sweet Night Air. Lord Emmaline Corshorn’s airship The Dove’s Eye raced through the night sky, propellers forcing her forward, in hot pursuit of the creature that had torn the nightwatch mate, Jacob Bublesnatch, from the cockpit while they were thousands of feet in the air. The airship had reached unheard of heights – no one knew what might dwell in such a rarefied and chilly band of the atmosphere. The deck was jammed with men – the full complement of crew and passengers gaping at the sight that offered itself to their curiosity. To those standing agog on deck it seemed as if a black twisting mass were being vomited upon the airship. In reality it was just the caves of a vast floating cliffside disgorging its armada of winged and clawed monsters upon the airship. That didn’t help with the panic. The presence of the Sky Mountain had already shaken the nerves of a superstitious crew, and the frothing flock of teeth and claws heading their way might have inspired a marine crew to abandon ship. But it was a long way down and aeronauts are of sterner stuff. Still, the crew dallied; agape and with shaking fingers they muttered, shouted and wailed. Their passengers, by way of contrast were engaged in an escalating argument about the nature of the beasts: “They clearly have wings of skin – see how their shape is so clearly lined by the moon. Therefore they must be mammalian. How else could they retain their body heat?” demanded Rosenhatch Traverstorm. “Well, first I’d dispute your assertion by the distance over which you judge them. A closer inspection will doubtless reveal their reptilian nature. Furthermore-” Harvey’s critique was interrupted by a bellow from their captain. “Man your posts for battle!” cried Lord Emmaline, “Jasparz to the armaments – arm the crew.” His words cut through the nervous confusion, his crew swiftly moved to their places and began handing out the airships weapons. He grimly laid his own pistol on the sill of the cockpit and hardened his grip on the wheel. The creatures flew directly for the speeding airship. To Traverstorm it seemed like just moments before they met. His eyes were fixed on the incursion, spotting and identifying characteristics, comparing them with his encyclopaedic knowledge of beasts known and rumoured. He cursed under his breath as the first of the swarm approached. Their wings were arranged in pairs, with two pairs of black leathery wings beating in alternate rhythm. Beneath and between the wing beats hung long distended bodies, like the tortured thorax and abdomen of a Gorilla Beetle; hanging off them a thrashing mass of jointed tentaculate limbs, viciously clawed, reaching out for the crew. The face… the head seemed nothing but teeth, slavering lips drawn back taut leaving a ring of fangs to thrust forward, ridged larval tongue lashing out – tasting the air. Traverstorm hunkered down, telescope in hand, between a pair of burly crew toting rifles and gave them a wide-eyed look, “I’d shoot first if I were you.” The first wave of winged monsters came within reach of the guns; tattered wings and holed bodies spiralled downwards. The crew were admirable shots, but the flock was undeterred. Thicker and heavier they swarmed the airship. Rifle and pistols discharged, killed, were reloaded and found yet more targets. Presumably drawn by the presence of the men on deck, it took the creatures a few waves before they noticed the balloon hanging above the ship. Dozens of them peeled off from the attack to rush, claws extended at the vulnerable bag of gas. The crew kept their shots away from the balloon. Jasparz, the man who had handed out the armaments watched the beasts begin to alight on the ropes and network that bound the airship together. He waited far longer than Traverstorm was comfortable with before finally calling to the captain, Lord Emmaline grimaced and flipped open a panel on his console, then flicked the pair of switches beneath. A terrific surge of electricity roared through the cables winding about the balloon, and through the sky beasts clinging to them. They convulsed, then dropped steaming out of the air. “That should deter them. Keep it up lads.” The crew continued to fire into the horde, but they were relentless. The first of the beasts gripped the rail of the airship and seized a mate by the face. He fired directly into the creature’s body and it fell back, hauling him over the side. His safety rope snapped out, swinging the hapless man under the airship. His mates moved swiftly to reel him back in, but their action left a gap in the line; the creatures filled it. They swarmed into the space, over the bodies of the men engaged in rescuing their friend. Abruptly they were on deck and behind the crew – as well as in front. Men began to fall under the clawed onslaught and the crew turned to vicious knives and axes for close quarters combat. A violent stuttering roar filled the air and the wave of crawling stabbing monsters exploded in gouts of gore and chitinous flesh. The crew cowered under the slashing rage of the sound, as their foes were cut to ribbons and hurled from the airship. The roar paused, as did the steady chink of brassy shells that bounced off the deck and out into the void. Harvey had rejoined the crew, a massive spinning cluster of barrels bound to his segmented armour. Firing controls were gripped firmly in his foremost appendages and he clacked his mandibles in satisfaction . “Apologies for the delay gentlemen, this takes some time to strap on,” the centipede stalked up to the centre of the foredeck and let loose with another pounding salvo into the encroaching pack of demons. “Captain,” cried Traverstorm, clinging to the glassless hole of the cockpit, “we’ll never hold them off here – they can attack on all sides and their numbers seem undiminished.” “Once more, my gratitude for your keen observation overwhelms my natural irritation at being instructed in the how best to apply saliva to an egg,” Traverstorm had the grace to at least blush, “that is precisely why we are going there-” the captain thrust his arm forwards. Traverstorm followed his finger. It lead to a vast cave that loomed before them. In the heat of battle Traverstorm had barely noticed that they were still heading for the sky mountain. They were now merely a hundred feet from the cliff – it stretched high above and below them, as if they were falling to earth. “But captain, we have no idea what lies within!” “We know what’s out here and we can’t survive it for much longer. In there they will be unable to surround us,” he turned from Traverstorm and bellowed to the crew, “Clear the decks! Prepare yourselves!” The cave mouth yawned over them and they were swallowed, deck, rigging and balloon all.