Revealing Times
There are many worried souls within our regiment. Even some of our trained-to-be fearless soldiers are fearful of what’s coming. I have heard reports and rumors of troops from both sides deserting.
Earlier today, I found David with tears welling up in his eyes. “David, come here. You remember what Mom used to tell us during our storms of life?”
“To hug or curl up next to her if we get scared.”
“No, before that, she’d say, we need not fear anything outside of God Himself. Nothing can harm or kill us without Him allowing it first. We are both His children.”
“I looked into the eyes of a dead man and saw the other men who had died. It burrows in my mind and haunts me.”
I pulled David close and whispered, “It’ll be alright. You are safe with Papa and me.”
He cried for a short while, then stepped back and wiped away his tears. “I haven’t cried like this since our family died.”
I reached over and dried the remaining tears from his face. “It’s okay. I still break down and cry on occasions when I’m alone, and life isn’t forcing me to be strong.” There was a brief silence that seemed to span the entire camp. “Hey,” an idea popped into my head, “you want to help me clean the surgical equipment?”
“Sure, but only if you will tell me what everything is for.”
By the time we arrived, several soldiers were finishing up. The work was all finished, except for a few small things. I felt terrible because I was late, but our neighbor, Sir William, had come and told Papa I was comforting David. He admitted out of concern he had eavesdropped and overheard part of our conversation. David and I walked around and toured the surgeons’ tools. David got sick to his stomach as I described the surgical equipment. It was the amputation saw that got to him. Frankly, the same thought hit me, and I spun around.
“Papa, who could stomach such imagery? All the blood, guts, and gore — apparently only the scarred souls who stand before it.”
I walked away and dropped to my knees in prayer. “Dear Lord, protect what innocence, David and I have left. It is often the faint of heart that is broken and weakened the most. Jesus, please don’t allow this war to destroy us.”
Papa and David had not followed me. They gave me some time and space. It’s been a challenging and emotional morning for everyone.
I recomposed myself, and we continued our tour. We looked at the medications. Some doctors still used whiskey, and they all had opiates like morphine for pain. But the chloroform was their go-to-choice for anesthesia.
Our regiment is packing up and moving out as other battles soon await. Forward and onward, the inward momentum pushes us towards our upcoming onset.
One positive bit of news today was Mr. Anderson, David’s English tutor, said he has the vocabulary of a university pupil or even a lower graduate. Papa told him we were both raised and teethed on the King James Bible. Our dad taught us daily out of God’s word, and it didn’t hurt that our mom was previously a schoolteacher. As a result, we had no leeway or slack in our curriculum and education.
Earlier today, I found David with tears welling up in his eyes. “David, come here. You remember what Mom used to tell us during our storms of life?”
“To hug or curl up next to her if we get scared.”
“No, before that, she’d say, we need not fear anything outside of God Himself. Nothing can harm or kill us without Him allowing it first. We are both His children.”
“I looked into the eyes of a dead man and saw the other men who had died. It burrows in my mind and haunts me.”
I pulled David close and whispered, “It’ll be alright. You are safe with Papa and me.”
He cried for a short while, then stepped back and wiped away his tears. “I haven’t cried like this since our family died.”
I reached over and dried the remaining tears from his face. “It’s okay. I still break down and cry on occasions when I’m alone, and life isn’t forcing me to be strong.” There was a brief silence that seemed to span the entire camp. “Hey,” an idea popped into my head, “you want to help me clean the surgical equipment?”
“Sure, but only if you will tell me what everything is for.”
By the time we arrived, several soldiers were finishing up. The work was all finished, except for a few small things. I felt terrible because I was late, but our neighbor, Sir William, had come and told Papa I was comforting David. He admitted out of concern he had eavesdropped and overheard part of our conversation. David and I walked around and toured the surgeons’ tools. David got sick to his stomach as I described the surgical equipment. It was the amputation saw that got to him. Frankly, the same thought hit me, and I spun around.
“Papa, who could stomach such imagery? All the blood, guts, and gore — apparently only the scarred souls who stand before it.”
I walked away and dropped to my knees in prayer. “Dear Lord, protect what innocence, David and I have left. It is often the faint of heart that is broken and weakened the most. Jesus, please don’t allow this war to destroy us.”
Papa and David had not followed me. They gave me some time and space. It’s been a challenging and emotional morning for everyone.
I recomposed myself, and we continued our tour. We looked at the medications. Some doctors still used whiskey, and they all had opiates like morphine for pain. But the chloroform was their go-to-choice for anesthesia.
Our regiment is packing up and moving out as other battles soon await. Forward and onward, the inward momentum pushes us towards our upcoming onset.
One positive bit of news today was Mr. Anderson, David’s English tutor, said he has the vocabulary of a university pupil or even a lower graduate. Papa told him we were both raised and teethed on the King James Bible. Our dad taught us daily out of God’s word, and it didn’t hurt that our mom was previously a schoolteacher. As a result, we had no leeway or slack in our curriculum and education.
***
The battles between McDowell and Winchester both took place since I last recorded our travels. Our regiment got assigned to Thomas Jackson. He’s been instrumental in our victories in these continuing battles within the Shenandoah Valley.
We are running low on food. I still have a canister of wolf lichen. Some Native American tribes used it like us to make tea, while others made poisoned arrowheads out of it.
I convinced David to go looking for wild berries with me.
“Emma, are you sure you remember what plants are fine to eat? Neither Papa nor I want to suffer or die an agonizing death.”
“No worries. I memorized Mom’s handwritten book of edible and medicinal plants, like nuts, mushrooms, herbs, etc. We could live off the land if we get hungry. It’s always been fascinating to me. Here, let’s have some tea before we go out looking for other edible goodies.”
“David, Emma, we are heading out. Front Royal is calling the men to arms.”
“Okay, Papa, David, and I will go vegetation hunting another day.”
“Both our crates are full; I topped them off early this morning. The dead and wounded left us all some provisions. So, you young foragers, get ready now and know that I love you both.” Papa rushed back to help finish packing the surgical supplies.
Despite the exorbitant food prices, our soldiers make ends meet on their monthly salaries. A low-level private earns only $11 per month, while higher-ranking personnel earn slightly more. Potatoes are $4 per quart, while onions, tomatoes, and cymlings, a type of squash, range from 75 cents to $1. Depending on the size, a slice of pie can cost anywhere from $2.50 to $3. Cider costs $1 per quart, but apples cost between $2 and $3 per dozen. The Confederacy attempts to provide adequate rations, but it is hampered by monoculture farming. It is the planting of a single crop in a specific location. Then there are the blockades and lack of transportation that hinder their efforts. As a result, we’re frequently forced to eat cornbread.
I must scramble to tidy up the wagon, then make sure David and Papa don’t forget any of their belongings.
We are running low on food. I still have a canister of wolf lichen. Some Native American tribes used it like us to make tea, while others made poisoned arrowheads out of it.
I convinced David to go looking for wild berries with me.
“Emma, are you sure you remember what plants are fine to eat? Neither Papa nor I want to suffer or die an agonizing death.”
“No worries. I memorized Mom’s handwritten book of edible and medicinal plants, like nuts, mushrooms, herbs, etc. We could live off the land if we get hungry. It’s always been fascinating to me. Here, let’s have some tea before we go out looking for other edible goodies.”
“David, Emma, we are heading out. Front Royal is calling the men to arms.”
“Okay, Papa, David, and I will go vegetation hunting another day.”
“Both our crates are full; I topped them off early this morning. The dead and wounded left us all some provisions. So, you young foragers, get ready now and know that I love you both.” Papa rushed back to help finish packing the surgical supplies.
Despite the exorbitant food prices, our soldiers make ends meet on their monthly salaries. A low-level private earns only $11 per month, while higher-ranking personnel earn slightly more. Potatoes are $4 per quart, while onions, tomatoes, and cymlings, a type of squash, range from 75 cents to $1. Depending on the size, a slice of pie can cost anywhere from $2.50 to $3. Cider costs $1 per quart, but apples cost between $2 and $3 per dozen. The Confederacy attempts to provide adequate rations, but it is hampered by monoculture farming. It is the planting of a single crop in a specific location. Then there are the blockades and lack of transportation that hinder their efforts. As a result, we’re frequently forced to eat cornbread.
I must scramble to tidy up the wagon, then make sure David and Papa don’t forget any of their belongings.
***
We’re on the move. All this traveling is exhausting for everyone, especially those on foot. We have a long way to go and a limited amount of time to get there. I pray God blesses Jackson as he leads our troops into battle. At the First Battle of Bull Run, he earned the nickname Stonewall after rushing his troops to close a gap in the line against a powerful attack by the Union. However, I best try to get some rest before the wounded require my assistance. David is with Papa, driving the wagon, so Firefly’s back will get a rest today.
***
David said I was quiet as a baby, but Papa says I snored a tad. Ladies, don’t snore, do they? Well, Mom never snored that I know of; I often checked to see if she was still breathing.
“Come sit in your brother’s place and let him rest awhile,” Papa told me.
I rubbed my sleepy eyes as I stirred around a bit. “Okay, wait for a moment or two; I need a second to comb my hair; it’s a mess.”
David crawled in the back of the wagon for a nap. It had been a bumpy ride so far. I woke up sore with kinks in my neck and back. “Papa, when do you think we’ll get to go home?”
“Who said you’ll be going home? You may meet a young man and marry before that time comes.”
“Oh, hush — quit your teasing! You know I don’t have time to court. I’m married to the army, aiding the wounded and taking care of you and David.”
“Come sit in your brother’s place and let him rest awhile,” Papa told me.
I rubbed my sleepy eyes as I stirred around a bit. “Okay, wait for a moment or two; I need a second to comb my hair; it’s a mess.”
David crawled in the back of the wagon for a nap. It had been a bumpy ride so far. I woke up sore with kinks in my neck and back. “Papa, when do you think we’ll get to go home?”
“Who said you’ll be going home? You may meet a young man and marry before that time comes.”
“Oh, hush — quit your teasing! You know I don’t have time to court. I’m married to the army, aiding the wounded and taking care of you and David.”
***
The battle erupted as we all expected. I can hear the distant guns and cannons firing. I’m frequently terrified, but I’m numb to it all on some level. Regardless of my firm faith, if I were on the actual battlefield, I’d most likely be in complete terror with the Union soldiers shooting at me. The part that gets to me the most is when the dead and injured arrive at camp. That is when my life forces me to take on the role of an intern nurse. David is now doing a lot more to assist, bringing supplies and water. And, as a surgeon, Papa has gotten much faster with reaching and assisting more casualties.
Even in this large regiment, it seems to be only the three of us here at times. Perhaps it’s where all of our activities are so intertwined. With our hectic schedule, I don’t have the luxury of making friends, despite the countless souls that make up our camp. Our family is my whole world within this vast universe known as the Confederate army. I want to learn more about the Christian faiths of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. But, for now, though, I must wash up as the wounded will soon be arriving. Even as I finish this sentence in my journal, I’m reminding David that God understands our fears, but people here rely on us.
“Okay, I’m here and ready. I pray God will guide the surgeons’ hands today.” I just heard him respond. He is turning into quite some man.
Now, it will only be moments before medics lay the first wounded on the table, presenting our first challenges.
Even in this large regiment, it seems to be only the three of us here at times. Perhaps it’s where all of our activities are so intertwined. With our hectic schedule, I don’t have the luxury of making friends, despite the countless souls that make up our camp. Our family is my whole world within this vast universe known as the Confederate army. I want to learn more about the Christian faiths of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. But, for now, though, I must wash up as the wounded will soon be arriving. Even as I finish this sentence in my journal, I’m reminding David that God understands our fears, but people here rely on us.
“Okay, I’m here and ready. I pray God will guide the surgeons’ hands today.” I just heard him respond. He is turning into quite some man.
Now, it will only be moments before medics lay the first wounded on the table, presenting our first challenges.
***
I’ve learned a lot under Papa’s supervision and guidance. I shadow him and his attendant, who I only know as Ross — observing as they train me to be a surgical nurse. Many opportunities may arise from this over time if I’m still single or need an extra income. I will have options. For that gift, I am forever grateful and blessed.
At McDowell, we had thirty-four wounded and five men killed from our regiment. Many more have died in previous engagements. The blood trail continues, but for now, we must carry on.
“God, sustain our faith in these trying and troubling times in Jesus’ name. I pray, amen!”
Today I wrote a poem in my head and recited it to Papa and David. Ross and a few others overheard and even complimented it. So I thought I would jot it down in my journal for future reference.
At McDowell, we had thirty-four wounded and five men killed from our regiment. Many more have died in previous engagements. The blood trail continues, but for now, we must carry on.
“God, sustain our faith in these trying and troubling times in Jesus’ name. I pray, amen!”
Today I wrote a poem in my head and recited it to Papa and David. Ross and a few others overheard and even complimented it. So I thought I would jot it down in my journal for future reference.
A Country at War
By Emma Cornelia Vass
White smoke laid across the hallowed field,
Those smoky barriers were our only shield.
We viewed from afar with a face of gloom.
Thousands of soldiers have met their doom.
At the leadership and command of Stonewall,
Our brave men marched united, all standing tall.
To the loud pounding of the cannons and guns;
Both sides have lost fathers, brothers, and sons.
By Emma Cornelia Vass
White smoke laid across the hallowed field,
Those smoky barriers were our only shield.
We viewed from afar with a face of gloom.
Thousands of soldiers have met their doom.
At the leadership and command of Stonewall,
Our brave men marched united, all standing tall.
To the loud pounding of the cannons and guns;
Both sides have lost fathers, brothers, and sons.
Under my breath, I said, “Goodnight, everyone.” Sometimes, I feel like I’m a social hermit. I care for the people here but am frightened to tell them. So, I keep to myself, but anyway enough thinking, for now, it’s late, “Goodnight, Jesus, I love you."