|
Gray Becomes Black |
|
After Chancellorsville, the two brothers individually struggle on and begin questioning their prior belief system. Through the zenith and defeat at Gettysburg they grow sickened by the senseless killings they’ve witnessed and participated in to the loss of friends they will forever mourn they share a common goal. Getting home. |
|
The following is an excerpt from Gray Becomes Black |
|
The Invasion of Pennsylvania June 1863-Caleb |
|
Limping away from Chancellorsville, bloodied, uniforms in tatters and smelling of smoke we resumed our positions overlooking the Rappahannock. We had defeated the Yanks once again yet they still lurked across the river. Although it was not mentioned thankfully amongst our group, the North Carolinians and me, news of the mortal shooting of Stonewall hung in the air and blew across the entire army. The guiding light or at least my guide into this damnable war in the first place I had killed. The wisp of news spoke of the amputation of his arm, his apparent recovery which lasted only a brief time, and then he was gone. In endless dreams I watched my shot slowly tumble in the air before tearing into Stonewall's arm shredding part of his uniform in the process. In my waking hours I saw the look of shock and pain in his face so clearly it seemed to bore right through the patch of my blinded eye. That sight will never leave me. Days later with the news of his passing Sim broke the uncomfortable silence. Approaching the small lean-to, I had built against some hewn logs he said "Mind if I sit with ya awhile? You sure was right about that Wilderness. That sure ain't no place to be fighting and then it caught fire! Damn!" Fingering his shredded uniform, he continued "Never in my neck of the woods have I seen such a mess of brambles quite like that. Got some cigars here. They ain't in the best condition I got to admit. Got a little wet and crumpled but they still smoke fine I'm bettin'. Better than nothing at all" "Got an endless supply of these?" I asked Sim. Chuckling he said "No, but I had a right goodly supply coming out of Richmond and there ain't no supplies around here so…" I accepted it mutely concentrating on the flickering light of the match as he lit my cheroot hoping to stall him from talking. "It is not all your fault you know. Deaths are unavoidable and certain ones you don’t want to happen still do. The scars of the dead are placed on us living and for the most part good people to bear." "I killed him though. I think he was our best hope. The entire South had rallied around him, praising his exploits I hear and I…I ended it," I said with a catch in my throat. "Accidentally though. You can't rightly know that your shot even hit the mark. The Gen'l got struck what two or three times. Remember back to that night. I thought when someone called out to stop shooting at our own that it was just a Yank trick. I hollered to keep shooting so by yourself, you are not to blame," he said most strongly before drawing on his own cigar stub. "You know Sim I followed Stonewall out of the institute, I've told you that before. When I was wounded and laid up in Richmond I argued with my fiancée and father insisting that I must come back to follow Stonewall." "Fancy?" he said. "I didn’t know you had a girl back home. I don't remember you mentioning it before." |
|
|
