The rain hadn’t stopped since the retreat began. The road from Gettysburg was mud and misery—boots sinking deep, wagon wheels groaning, the wounded moaning under canvas covers. Sarah “Sally” Beauregard trudged beside what was left of her regiment, her kepi pulled low to keep the drizzle from her eyes. The gray coats around her were fewer now, the proud Army of Northern Virginia hollowed by defeat.

A soldier fell down beside her. All the others continued, more focused on their own survival. Sarah couldn't bear to leave him behind like that. She went over to him and dragged him up by his arm.

"Come on. Can you lean on me?"