Rebel in Time

'This is what you have come to see, sir,' McCulloch said, carefully unwrapping it. 'I ask your patience for a moment more while I point out some things that I believe are obvious to us both. We are Southern patriots and I know that we both have faith in our just cause. I also have reason to believe that when war comes — and come it shall just as certain as destiny — you will cast your lot unhesitatingly with the South.'

The officer nodded slowly. 'What you say is true, though I have only lately determined that course. And I spoke of it to no one. How could you possibly know?'

'Because I feel that I know you, lieutenant. I know your pride in your ability as a cavalryman — and your unique dedication to that craft. I am now going to show you a weapon that I am sure you will appreciate. But first, might I ask you a question? Are your troops equipped with the new Sharps breechloading rifle?'

'No — but I wish they were. In spite of all the fancy talk the Army has scarcely any of them.'

'A good weapon?'

'The best. Too cumbersome to be used from horseback by cavalry, but still a fine infantry weapon. A trained soldier can get off six, maybe seven shots a minute.'

'Indeed,' McCulloch said, obviously not too impressed. He opened the box and reached inside. 'In that case, lieutenant, what would you say to a weapon that wasn't much larger than a horse pistol — and could fire more than ten shots every second ?'

The lieutenant's voice was hushed as he looked into the box. 'I would say, sir, that if such a weapon did exist, why then that warfare would be a very different thing indeed.'

McCulloch placed the steel form of the submachinegun into his hands.

'Compact, ugly, deadly,' McCulloch said. 'With the metal stock folded it is just twenty inches long. It weighs only six and half pounds. This metal box contains thirty-two rounds of ammunition. It clips into place underneath the receiver, here. Now I will demonstrate how to fire the weapon. This small knob is drawn back fully, until it clicks into place. That is all that must be done — because the gun will do all the rest. When the trigger is depressed it will fire. When the trigger is released it will stop. It will do this until the ammunition in the box is exhausted. Then it will take you only a moment to insert a new box — the soldiers will carry bandoliers of these boxes fully loaded. Now watch.'

McCulloch swung about, the gun at his waist, and depressed the trigger. It roared out, again and again, sending a hail of bullets through the trees and into the grassy bank beyond. Leaves and twigs floated down in the sunlight; a branch broke and dropped to the ground. Then the firing stopped and their heads rang with the echo of the sound. A click and the empty cartridge box dropped to the ground; click, a new one was inserted. He turned and handed the weapon to the cavalryman.

'Hold it firmly. The recoil is slight, but it will climb up and to the right. Therefore you should fire short bursts letting the muzzle drop back on your target again after each burst.'

The lieutenant reached out and took the gun, feeling the cool metal of the stock, the warmth of the short barrel. He raised it slowly to his shoulder, looked over the fixed sights, then pulled the trigger. It hammered loudly, again and again, brass shells raining to the ground, lead bullets screaming out. When the last shot had been fired he looked down at the gun — then up at McCulloch — his eyes wide with excitement.

'This — this is incredible! I never imagined anything like it. A single soldier, a mounted trooper, can have the firing power of an entire squad.'

'And he can also fire while mounted, while riding at the enemy. The sights are fixed at a hundred yards, but they aren't really needed. The gun sprays bullets like water from a hose. Just sweep it back and forth and the enemy is destroyed. This gun is called… the Victory.'

'And it will bring victory,' the lieutenant said, laughing aloud with enthusiasm. 'This will change the entire role of cavalry, turn it into the supreme striking force of a new army. It will make lightning war, hitting hard, suddenly, destructively. With this the cavalry could strike the enemy a mortal blow. They could hit and destroy — and even keep moving on while leaving the infantry to mop up. But how does it operate? How is it made? I have heard nothing of its existence before, not even a whisper of rumour.'

'That is because it is a secret known to but a few, true friends of the South. I make the guns myself, openly in my Richmond plant. The parts, when separate, do not even resemble those of a gun. They are assembled at a secret site where the cartridges are also manufactured. Without these new cartridges the Victory is just a collection of dead metal. With them — why it is the Victory!'