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The Call-Up
February 1909

Scanning the terrain below him in the late evening hours, the young captain could faintly make out the silhouettes of his fallen comrades, as each flash of lightning revealed their presence. It was as though the darkness refused to claim them, reminding the survivors of their own culpability. Two days of intense, bloody fighting had resulted in the greatest slaughter experienced on Braelander soil. Now, with the guns having fallen silent due to the unusually heavy rainfall, the exhausted captain and his men began their descent from their lookout to identify those still living and to retrieve the dead. As frequently happens to soldiers who are permitted time to reflect in such circumstances, Captain David Westfall, a medic, was moved by the bravery of his fellow men while at the same time sickened by the senselessness of it all.

Growing up in a life of privilege as a member of the extended royal family, Captain Westfall nevertheless viewed himself as an outsider, identifying little with the House of Brunswick and indifferent to the Monarchy in general. But he recognized early on that the Republicans were less interested in democracy than in power itself. So he cast his lot with the Loyalists immediately following the assassination of King Malcolm in November 1908.

Upon receiving news of Prince Henry’s coronation overseas, the Loyalists became hopeful that help would arrive from Great Britain. But such military support never materialized. With tensions smoldering on the European continent, Braeland’s political turmoil could not have been lower on British Prime Minister H. H. Asquith’s agenda. Sporadic fighting had continued through the winter and ensuing spring but with the Armed Forces firmly behind the new government of President Kildron, the civil war in effect was over before it really began.

The Battle of Embro removed any doubt. But what was planned as a final death stroke to the Loyalists initially turned into a bloody stalemate. The battle was actually fought along a portion of the Pincher escarpment overlooking Embro itself. The skirmish commenced in the early morning hours of February 6, 1909 with unrelenting volleys of artillery meant to soften the Loyalist forces that were ensconced high above the Armed Forces. However, their advances up the escarpment were repeatedly hurled back by infantry rifle shots. At first, it appeared the Loyalists had won a strategic victory, halting the Armed Forces’ advance and perhaps – just perhaps – swinging the momentum in their favour.

But then the long-delayed winter rains finally came. Braeland had endured one of the worst droughts in its history over the previous two years but now the torrent was unrelenting. The Armed Forces, instead of retreating, quickly recognized the Loyalists precarious situation along the escarpment with its unstable rock base and penchant for rock slides. Before the Loyalists could adequately retreat from the rock cliffs, the Armed Forces began hurling more rounds of artillery – this time to dislodge the Loyalists from their perch. The maneuver was an unqualified success. A slaughter ensued: soldiers that initially survived the slides and mudflows were cut down as they tried to flee. Only a remnant of the Loyalists managed to escape by successfully seeking higher ground through the now treacherous gullies and ravines.

Regroup

The decimated Loyalist forces now recognized their situation as untenable and desperate. As they finished filling in the mass graves and reading off their fallen comrades’ names, the uncertainty of their future began to take hold among Captain Westfall’s remaining men.

“Well, what’s left for us to do? Wait for them to come and finish us off?” asked Private Crowther, to no one in particular.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit, bloke”, sneered Private Reid. “How about we nominate Crowther as morale officer, what do ya say, eh? I think the position is open, what, with the last one getting his head blown clean off and all!”

The other men laughed and jeered, eliciting “ayes” and “motions carried” in response to Reid’s suggestion.

“I was just saying –“, Crowther attempted to reply.

“Just saying what, that we give up now? That we just walk into their camp and say, “Hey, we’re on your side now”? You think they’d welcome us with open arms?”

“Yeah, with arms firing!” chimed in Private Payne, soliciting even more guffaws from the others.

“OK, now hold it men; ease up”, appealed Captain Westfall, as he stepped out of the makeshift medic tent. “Crowther did ask a legitimate question in his own way.”

“Thanks, I think – sir!” replied Crowther, correcting himself as Westfall glared at him for his impertinence.

“The fact is we are awaiting orders from General Fisher himself. Be prepared to break camp and move out of here before daybreak – come hell or high water. Reid, Payne - gather up the gear and get the horses ready. Take the other men with you. Crowther, I’ll need your help in triage. Let us see whether or not we can save some of these boys.”

New Orders

They did not have to wait long. The pounding of hooves alerted the men of General Fisher and his entourage’s arrival. Captain Westfall, after quickly rinsing his bloodstained hands in the pouring rain that showed no signs of letting up, saluted the General who remained mounted on his horse.

“Bloody business this is Captain”, the General remarked as he looked over their squalid surroundings. “Is this all the men you have left?”

“Yes sir”, replied Westfall, unsure as to how he should respond. “We had a bit of a rough going, sir. We got caught between the pursuing enemy and the river. The flood waters had washed out the last remaining bridge, making our escape rather treacherous. Fortunately, our horses were able to navigate the current and the fall of darkness provided much needed relief.”

“Bloody business”, the General observed again. “Well Captain, you’re going to need both this morning – your horse and this darkness. There is a train heading out from Fort Richmond to Queensland as we speak. I want you on that train. There is a steamship leaving port to San Francisco by 0800 hours. I want you on that ship as well.”

It was precisely what Captain Westfall did not want to hear. He abhorred the idea of receiving preferential treatment simply because of his background.

“If I may sir, I feel I would be much more useful here.”

“And I would have you continue on my staff, if I had my way”, the General replied, aware of Captain Westfall’s reservations. “But reality is reality, isn’t it Captain? No, there is no point wasting good men such as you on a useless exercise. The country shall soon be completely under the Republicans’ thumb. That agony is over. It is now our mission to keep the flame of freedom alive in the minds and hearts of Braelanders who are not fooled by these corrupt swayers.”

Then the General retrieved a sealed envelope from his inner coat pocket and handed it to Westfall.

“King Henry - based upon my recommendation - has personally selected you to organize the Resistance from oversees. A representative from the British Consulate in San Francisco will meet you upon your arrival. But time is of the essence. I suggest you prepare for your flight immediately. A cavalry division will be dispatched to provide cover for you on the first leg of the journey until you reach Grand Bend on the Sydenham River. Avoid entering St. Vincent itself for we suspect Republican spies are present there. You should then be clear to meet up with the Downie & Pacific. It’s carrying all freight, so it will be heading straight to the Queensland docks. I've dispatched a cipher telegram notifying them of your boarding but I cannot guarantee that they will stop for you.”

Learning of his new mission and the weighty responsibility it carried invigorated Captain Westfall. He also immediately recognized the narrow window of opportunity he had with which to make good his escape. Queensland stood as the last remaining port city not completely controlled by the Republican forces. But it was only a matter of time before it too fell.

“The ship you are to board is the S.S. Waverley”, the General continued. “Captain Toulson has been notified of your arrival as well. But he cannot wait should you fail to arrive at the appointed time.”

“Yes, sir”, saluted Westfall, “I will leave immediately. I will not fail you.”

“God speed, Captain”, replied General Fisher, returning his salute. “Long live the King!”

“Long live the King!”, shouted the other soldiers in unison.

At that, the General ordered the rest of the men to break camp. The Loyalists would soon begin their retreat deep into the Amethyst Mountains to carry on the fight. For them, it was now guerrilla warfare. For Captain Westfall, it was an exciting new mission.

Excerpt taken from the forthcoming book At The Wall: How Baseball Saved A Nation, by Paul Shirley, senior sports editor of the Brunswick Courier. Reprinted with permission.