This is more of an awesome loss, but still interesting anyway.
So there we were, the entire 102nd regiment lined up and marching along the river. We had just fought off an enemy regiment and a few friendlies were cleaning up the stragglers as we moved to defend the river crossing. We spotted an enemy regiment lining up on a hill to our left, and our commanding officer ordered us to form up. We exchanged volleys, and lost three people, including the CO. The next man in charge took immediate command and ordered us to cross the river. We were, after all, a melee regiment.
We waded into the water, guns above our heads when the next volley hit. Half of us went down then and there, and those who didn't either drowned or fell in the next volley. After the chaos, three men were left; me, another ranker, and our flag bearer hiding behind a tree on the friendly bank. The flag bearer, next in line for command, ordered us to retreat. Our blood filled the water seconds later.
As our flag bearer dropped the colours to reload, a random pub took the flag and started running off with it. The bearer told him to drop it or he'd fire, so he did. Just before our bearer got to the flag, a bullet hit him square in the chest. The pubbie spun, grabbed the flag, and waded into the water again.
This happened in a matter of minutes, and the icing on the cake was that it could all have been avoided if the commander had noticed that the actual river crossing was two feet to our right.
It was hilarious at the time, trust me.