a matter of moments the Pry house was empty with one, very lonely exception.
Ambrose Burnside remained seated. His normally soft and friendly eyes
were hard and angry -- his balding head wet and red. He couldn’t comprehend
the injustice of it all. Not only had Hooker been given independent
command, he was to commence the battle and would retain overall command
of the most vital part of the field. Burnside, however, was a “diversion.”
The humiliation was unbearable. The friendship was over. McClellan had
not spoken to him. He had not even looked his way.
all they had done together -- this.
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