The Aftermath
Following the Battle of Belle Grove, a soldier found my journal among some belongings of a young fallen soldier named Alfred Armstrong. Stolen a few years ago from my wagon chest after leaving Manassas, I counted it forever misplaced in another’s hands. Now, I pick up not where I left off, but thirteen battles later. So much unwritten, so much forgotten and lost. I struggle to remember what I can.
This past battle was a crushing defeat. We failed to protect our supply lines through the Shenandoah Valley, making it more challenging to feed our army.
General Stonewall Jackson, a God-fearing man, was accidentally killed by his men. His loss echoed in every corner of the country and throughout the hearts of everyone who knew him. While they bury the dead, we must keep their accounts of history alive. In 1863, the Union confiscated Robert Lee’s 1,100-acre estate in Virginia and converted it into a cemetery.
As I think back to a wintry day at Fredericksburg, I stood there chilled to the bone. Shivering, I felt the blood of the wounded covering my body. Papa’s hands warmed within the mangled abdomen of a man’s open gut. I thought if this soldier finds favor with God, he may even live to see a hospital. When he awoke in anguish, he moaned and groaned as he begged me to let him die. I find so little to be thankful for in these times. Sadness has broken my heart regularly before these men of valor.
David, now seventeen, joined the troops on the battlefield two years ago at Chancellorsville. That battle was a solid victory for the Confederate army. Ross is now a surgeon right beside Papa, saving lives and limbs with the best of them. Rumors have it we are edging towards the end of the war. I can’t wait to settle down and get married. Papa is giving Ross and me a house and a piece of land. David plans to rebuild our old home place not too far from where we will be living. We aim to help him once we return.
We are always looking and coming up with ways to get our minds off the war. Many love to play cards as a pastime between long marches and battles, but a deck of cards is a rare find these days. Reading, writing, drawing, and music are popular activities within the camps. Studying and learning God’s word is a favorite way of passing the time within our family.
I recall one evening as David and I sat around a small campfire. The darkness nearly hid his worn uniform and almost hid the war for a moment.
“David, I’ve enjoyed your Bible studies as of late,” I told him.
“Thanks. I often wish I could hear Dad teach and preach again.”
“I know, but you know he would be very proud of you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey, think of when we get home, we’ll get you to marry Ross and I. Then we can invite our old neighbors and friends to hear you preach a message before our wedding.”
“That will be nice.”
This past battle was a crushing defeat. We failed to protect our supply lines through the Shenandoah Valley, making it more challenging to feed our army.
General Stonewall Jackson, a God-fearing man, was accidentally killed by his men. His loss echoed in every corner of the country and throughout the hearts of everyone who knew him. While they bury the dead, we must keep their accounts of history alive. In 1863, the Union confiscated Robert Lee’s 1,100-acre estate in Virginia and converted it into a cemetery.
As I think back to a wintry day at Fredericksburg, I stood there chilled to the bone. Shivering, I felt the blood of the wounded covering my body. Papa’s hands warmed within the mangled abdomen of a man’s open gut. I thought if this soldier finds favor with God, he may even live to see a hospital. When he awoke in anguish, he moaned and groaned as he begged me to let him die. I find so little to be thankful for in these times. Sadness has broken my heart regularly before these men of valor.
David, now seventeen, joined the troops on the battlefield two years ago at Chancellorsville. That battle was a solid victory for the Confederate army. Ross is now a surgeon right beside Papa, saving lives and limbs with the best of them. Rumors have it we are edging towards the end of the war. I can’t wait to settle down and get married. Papa is giving Ross and me a house and a piece of land. David plans to rebuild our old home place not too far from where we will be living. We aim to help him once we return.
We are always looking and coming up with ways to get our minds off the war. Many love to play cards as a pastime between long marches and battles, but a deck of cards is a rare find these days. Reading, writing, drawing, and music are popular activities within the camps. Studying and learning God’s word is a favorite way of passing the time within our family.
I recall one evening as David and I sat around a small campfire. The darkness nearly hid his worn uniform and almost hid the war for a moment.
“David, I’ve enjoyed your Bible studies as of late,” I told him.
“Thanks. I often wish I could hear Dad teach and preach again.”
“I know, but you know he would be very proud of you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey, think of when we get home, we’ll get you to marry Ross and I. Then we can invite our old neighbors and friends to hear you preach a message before our wedding.”
“That will be nice.”
***
There was a brief pause between treating the wounded after a recent battle. I don’t even remember which one it was, there has been so many. Ross and I spoke while we caught our breath before returning to work.
“Ross, are you afraid of dying?”
“No, but I am afraid of losing you.”
“Ah, that is so sweet.” I gave him a quick kiss. “I’m afraid of losing you, too.”
“How many children do you want?”
“A boy and girl would be nice.”
“A house full would be nice, too.” Then he smiled, and we both giggled. “Okay, two will be enough, but we should stop talking and get back to the regiment for now. It’ll be dark soon.”
“Okay, I’ll race you. Get set, run.”
“Hey, no fair, you cheated. You got a head-start.”
“Ross, are you afraid of dying?”
“No, but I am afraid of losing you.”
“Ah, that is so sweet.” I gave him a quick kiss. “I’m afraid of losing you, too.”
“How many children do you want?”
“A boy and girl would be nice.”
“A house full would be nice, too.” Then he smiled, and we both giggled. “Okay, two will be enough, but we should stop talking and get back to the regiment for now. It’ll be dark soon.”
“Okay, I’ll race you. Get set, run.”
“Hey, no fair, you cheated. You got a head-start.”
***
The Union has won more battles this far, though we have seen many notable successes. At the Seven Day Battle, a third of the men were dead or dying. There were enough living men left to make the field appear as if it was crawling. Two of the most significant battles we fought were at Antietam and Gettysburg. Antietam has stood as the bloodiest day on American soil. Pursuing a lead that led to the most crucial fight to date, Gettysburg originally began as a quest for shoes as many Confederate soldiers were shoeless. When clothes are scarce, we will use the Union’s captured uniforms. Then boil them in walnut hulls, acorns, and a lye solution to a light tan color known as butternut. Half-starved, many of us are still in threadbare uniforms seven conflicts later. Gettysburg was a turning point, sadly to our loss. By Spring, only three hundred men were present for duty from our regiment, as many deserted.
“Papa, it seems we’re losing the war.”
“Perhaps we are, but it has been a long road for both sides. Regardless, it is still in God’s hands. In the greatest sense, we have all lost. The entire country is mourning.”
“I’m tired and just want to go home.”
“Papa, it seems we’re losing the war.”
“Perhaps we are, but it has been a long road for both sides. Regardless, it is still in God’s hands. In the greatest sense, we have all lost. The entire country is mourning.”
“I’m tired and just want to go home.”
***
We were en route to Danville or Lynchburg in hopes to re-supply. The Union army had been on our heels every step of the way. Preying on our vulnerabilities. While bottlenecked at Sayler’s Creek, the enemy closed in on us while attempting to flee. We lost about a quarter of our remaining soldiers, including several generals. Papa sternly said, “Ross, get Emma out of here.” As I looked over towards Papa, he yelled, “Ross — now!” I saw the fear in his eyes, and then I looked down to see David lying on the ground. With a blood-covered shirt and blood dripping from his head. I screamed as Ross put his hand around my waist and shoulder to pull me away. He handed me to two soldiers as he ran to offer Papa a pair of helping hands. I heard Papa say we have to hurry. He is in a lot of trouble. They both worked to lift him to a nearby wagon. It was then I saw David’s pale face as I fought to be free. My legs and arms went limp with an outcry for God to help us to safety. Then I fainted from the exhaustion and terror on the battlefield.