More Project Backwards

Time travel, comedy, hopefully!

     Steve came out of the usual fog, and blinked against the harsh light.  Where was he?  He blinked again, and moved his head, trying to see his surroundings. 

 

     "I said to stay absolutely still; crap, now all the work I've put in on this photograph is for nothing; it may as well be flushed down the shitter!"  

 

     "I'm sorry, I forgot," he replied, even though he didn't really know what was going on.

 

     "Oh, well then, everything is forgiven.  I'll just tell President Lincoln that his new Secretary of S**t just forgot; no problem!"

 

     "Now Mathew, remember, the doctor told you not to get upset," said a dark-haired, rather attractive man; he looked to be about 5-8, with a mustache, and appearing to be not much older than 30.  "Little Mac", and Steve would recognize him anywhere, thanks to a Civil War class in high school, better known to history as George B. McClellan.

 

     The photographer scowled in his direction and just rolled his eyes. 

 

     McClellan then turned to Steve, and said, "As my aide, it is crucial that you and all  my forces look sharp, and that in turn makes me look good.  After all, we can't have 'Young Napoleon's' army looking ragged, and it starts at the top.  If I learned anything during my first go-round as Supreme Leader, it's that.  Look at me now, for example, I look fabulous, and I want my staff to look fabulous for my second go-round as the general in charge."

 

     "Well, whatever, the Studios of Mathew Brady can't do any justice to 'sharp-looking' photographs, if dip-s**t's like this clown can't keep their head still.  How hard is that?" said Brady.

 

     "Look, I'm sorry," Steve remarked.

 

     "Well, I'm too busy trying to decide whether to withdraw all Union Forces to Washington to worry about if one of my aides keeps his head still," interjected McClellan.

 

     "But sir, we've seen no evidence of concentrated Confederate forces; I recommend carrying the attack forward," Steve replied, fully aware of McClellan's reluctance to fight, and constant over-estimation of Confederate troop strength.  He knew he shouldn't be messing with any events that might effect the time line, but if he could save lives by doing so, he felt he should try.  It was one thing to read about it in history books, and quite another to be here with a real chance to change things. 

 

     McClellan turned to Brady and smirked, "Oh, I guess making coffee and sweeping up around the office makes this guy an expert; he was the janitor, before I made him my aide.  I thought he'd just keep his mouth shut, but oh how wrong I was!" he said.

 

     Like you were on damn near everything else, thought Steve.

 

 Then McClellan turned back to Steve, "I hate to tell you, Mr. Expert, but we're damn near surrounded.  What you're advocating, pushing forward with the attack, will more than likely do nothing more than see the decimation of our entire army."

 

     Boy, the history books weren't kidding, this guy's deluded.  "But sir, by trying to save lives, you'll only prolong the war, and cause untold numbers more casualties.  What evidence that you're outnumbered do you have?"

 

     "Look, when the entire fate of the Union rests on your shoulders, you get a sense for this stuff, and I'm telling you we're vastly outnumbered and damn near surrounded.  In fact, I want to thank you Steve, The Fricking Janitor; our talk has helped me to decide; I'm ordering the end of The Peninsula Campaign and the withdrawal of all Federal Forces back to Washington.  We'll get better trained, resupply, and then we'll be in a much better position to attack."

 

     "When, by the end of the decade, sir?" Steve responded, the scorn evident in his voice.

 

     McClellan turned bright red with outrage, and called out in a loud voice, "Guard, guard!"

 

     The door opened, and a man wearing a military uniform stuck his head in the door and asked, "Sir?"

 

     "Arrest this man for questioning a direct order, and just for being a major pain in the a*s!"

 

     "Yes sir," and the guard started towards Steve.

 

     He figured it would be a good time to say, "Get me out of here," and that's exactly what he did.

 

     McClellan started to say, "Who in the Hell are you talking to?" and then everything went dark around Steve.

 

The End

 

    

 

       

 

      

 

        

 

        

 

      

Reviews

[Marie]

THis is not only amusing but informative. You've obviously studied the Civil War.

[Michael Stevens]

Thank you, and I do know a little about the Civil War; what I didn't know I can encapsulate in one word; Wikipedia!