CHAPTER FIVE
AT ONE-THIRTY P.M., Edward Baker, dressed in proper 1850’s United States soldier attire, stepped up in full view of what looked to be a record crowd and raised his left arm high into the air, preparing to signal to the cannon crews.
He smiled and held his pose a moment, building the excitement for the crowd, then yelled, “Fire!”
The three cannons sounded mightily, one after the other, smoke billowing up from each cannon’s barrel as the crowd clapped and cheered wildly.
But the crowd’s cheers turned to gasps of concern as Edward Baker suddenly lurched to his right, then collapsed. Shocked troopmates surrounded him to check on him but were confused – they couldn’t see anything wrong.
Until someone attempted to move him, and the large pool of blood staining the grass led to
