Guts and Blackpowder: The Brutal Reality of Warfare’s Transition
The Dawn of Gunpowder’s Reign The acrid tang of spent blackpowder mingled with the coppery scent of blood, clinging to the air like a shroud. Private Thomas Baker, barely a man, clutched the splintered stock of his Brown Bess musket, its uselessness mirroring the despair in his heart. The screams of the wounded, a chorus…