The Awakening
I finally rode on a train! If only Dad and Mom could have seen our faces all lit up with excitement.
Our regiment and all our supplies arrived by rail in Staunton, Virginia. From here, we’ll begin our advance towards the Allegheny Mountains. This station is in the Shenandoah Valley, somewhere between the Blue Ridge Mountains and where we’re all headed. Colonel Samuel V. Fulkerson is in command of the regiment. He spoke to us of fighting in the Mexican War and being a judge before coming here. He instructed Michael to keep himself and us kids within safety. Papa looked at us a few minutes later and said, “See, not all veterans become stone-hearted.”
My thoughts returned to the moment we stepped off the train. As we edged closer towards the battlefront, I realized we were no longer safe. Yes, it would have been good for our parents to see us riding on the back of that caboose. Now the smiles we once shared and felt have turned into frowns as we face a bleak future of war.
Our regiment and all our supplies arrived by rail in Staunton, Virginia. From here, we’ll begin our advance towards the Allegheny Mountains. This station is in the Shenandoah Valley, somewhere between the Blue Ridge Mountains and where we’re all headed. Colonel Samuel V. Fulkerson is in command of the regiment. He spoke to us of fighting in the Mexican War and being a judge before coming here. He instructed Michael to keep himself and us kids within safety. Papa looked at us a few minutes later and said, “See, not all veterans become stone-hearted.”
My thoughts returned to the moment we stepped off the train. As we edged closer towards the battlefront, I realized we were no longer safe. Yes, it would have been good for our parents to see us riding on the back of that caboose. Now the smiles we once shared and felt have turned into frowns as we face a bleak future of war.
***
We’ve spent five months watching the smoke rising from the campfires of the hostile camps across one of the big valleys of West Virginia. Those were some long, indecisive, and miserable months.
On December 13, 1861, our first battle took place on the Allegheny summit. Mutiny almost began among the men; hungry and frozen to the bone by the cold winter days. The taste of war frightened and shook many of our men to the core. When things settled down, so did our emotions. Our brave soldiers moved forward to our next destination as the camp’s wounded and personnel fell in line behind the troops.
“Children listen,” Papa said to us today. “Many people are referring to this as a racial war. There are only a few slave owners within our part of the state who are relatively wealthy. Most of them oppose the secession, along with many of the townsfolk. It’s the neighboring farmers who support the Confederacy. Those mountaineers and valley dwellers resent the rapid progress and industrial growth. Thus, most soldiers here won’t be fighting and dying for slavery. They are striving to maintain their Southern way of life. See, they’re fighting for their independence from Northern oppression in their eyes. Emma and David understand that even the North have their slaves and slave-owners, but neither is right by doing so. Those opposing the secession see it as a risk to their continuing prosperity. They enjoy the trade and progress from the railroad.”
After listening to Papa speak, David asked, "So, what is our purpose here?"
“We are here to see souls and lives saved and to help heal and mend the broken mind, body, and spirit of those we can.”
Papa’s response caused me to look for better ways to serve and reconsider nursing. I had faced the question long enough.
Later, Papa jotted something down in his notebook, and he handed it to me to read. It was a short poem he’d written about the issue we discussed earlier.
On December 13, 1861, our first battle took place on the Allegheny summit. Mutiny almost began among the men; hungry and frozen to the bone by the cold winter days. The taste of war frightened and shook many of our men to the core. When things settled down, so did our emotions. Our brave soldiers moved forward to our next destination as the camp’s wounded and personnel fell in line behind the troops.
“Children listen,” Papa said to us today. “Many people are referring to this as a racial war. There are only a few slave owners within our part of the state who are relatively wealthy. Most of them oppose the secession, along with many of the townsfolk. It’s the neighboring farmers who support the Confederacy. Those mountaineers and valley dwellers resent the rapid progress and industrial growth. Thus, most soldiers here won’t be fighting and dying for slavery. They are striving to maintain their Southern way of life. See, they’re fighting for their independence from Northern oppression in their eyes. Emma and David understand that even the North have their slaves and slave-owners, but neither is right by doing so. Those opposing the secession see it as a risk to their continuing prosperity. They enjoy the trade and progress from the railroad.”
After listening to Papa speak, David asked, "So, what is our purpose here?"
“We are here to see souls and lives saved and to help heal and mend the broken mind, body, and spirit of those we can.”
Papa’s response caused me to look for better ways to serve and reconsider nursing. I had faced the question long enough.
Later, Papa jotted something down in his notebook, and he handed it to me to read. It was a short poem he’d written about the issue we discussed earlier.
From a Period of Servitude to a Time of Freedom
By Michael James Vass
All the acts and measures of slavery, we must cast aside.
Laws, not war, need we apply before our armies collide.
O’ what power when murderers no longer need to hide.
Such mutiny when fair rules of the state we won’t abide.
When forced to observe the persecuted great and few;
The bloody, darkened veil humanity must see-through.
Brothers, remember the white indentured servants, too.
Colorless slavery is forever blind within its political view.
By Michael James Vass
All the acts and measures of slavery, we must cast aside.
Laws, not war, need we apply before our armies collide.
O’ what power when murderers no longer need to hide.
Such mutiny when fair rules of the state we won’t abide.
When forced to observe the persecuted great and few;
The bloody, darkened veil humanity must see-through.
Brothers, remember the white indentured servants, too.
Colorless slavery is forever blind within its political view.
It looks like David and I have made a new friend today; a white and gray speckled horse we both named Firefly. Her skin is unbranded, but she looks well cared for. We assume she got separated from her owner. I hope we can keep her as an addition to the family, since she continues to follow us onward. I left my brother alone with the young mare as I caught up with Michael this afternoon.
“Papa, we’ve come a long way from home and still have a long way to go. I hate David had to abandon his schooling for now. Maybe we can find time to teach him together?” I didn’t give time for Papa to answer. “For myself, I’ll observe the duties of nursing and surrender my considerations on the matter to God in prayer. I know for now, though, we must continue to march on.”
“Emma, no more worrying about your brother. Concentrate on your studies. I have already found David several tutors. He will work on his education, and I’ll see he gets treated fairly.”
“Papa, we’ve come a long way from home and still have a long way to go. I hate David had to abandon his schooling for now. Maybe we can find time to teach him together?” I didn’t give time for Papa to answer. “For myself, I’ll observe the duties of nursing and surrender my considerations on the matter to God in prayer. I know for now, though, we must continue to march on.”
“Emma, no more worrying about your brother. Concentrate on your studies. I have already found David several tutors. He will work on his education, and I’ll see he gets treated fairly.”
***
Some time has passed now, and David and I are working hard on our studies. Everyone continues moving ahead at a snappy but achievable pace. Many of our days seem to collapse into one another with no end or separation in sight. David rides Firefly a lot in the evenings. Unknowing to us, Papa had bought her from a soldier for a surprise. The man swore the horse loves children. It is apparent she thinks I’m still a child, too. That is why she started following us both that day.
***
On March 23, 1862, we found ourselves in another battle in a place called Kernstown. With the boom of cannons and the crackle of gunfire echoing in the distance, my job was to help ready things in the camp. The cost of war is more than many can stomach, but it arose before us despite our feelings, hopes, and countless prayers.
There was scarcely time to prepare before the wounded came pouring in, paralyzing my immortal soul with fear. It was an unimaginable wave of destruction overtaking me until I was nearly as lifeless as the dead themselves. Cries shrieking for help forced me to keep moving. However, death loomed all around me.
I was given the job of comforting the dying soldiers in their final moments. Despite the many medical marvels of today, there are still many wounded that we are helpless to save. I bewailed the morbid task bestowed upon me, but there was no time to object.
I couldn’t swallow the growing lump in my throat as I stiffly approached the first soldier. Before I could speak, his ghastly hand grabbed my arm, instantly staining my skin with his blood. Panicked, yet briefly strengthened, it was the blood that caused my mind to recall 2 Corinthians 15:1-4 as given to us by the Apostle Paul in the Bible, the Oracle of God. My blood stains became larger and more prominent with each soldier that I visited as I shared the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Some of those who were dying listened intently, but I do not know whether they accepted. The arm of death is strong in this tug-of-war of life, but God is still victorious.
The day turned to night, and my heart and eyes were overflowing with tears. My eyes hadn’t been dry since seeing my first soldier bid farewell. After the last man in my care took his last breath, I got up and ran to a place to be by myself.
Papa found me sitting under an old tree, crying. He laid his hand upon the crown of my head. “Do you need a shoulder to cry on or a pair of ears to hear your grievances? If you would like, I can sit with you.”
“No, Papa, I don’t understand why you asked this of me. You said you wanted me to be a nurse, not a young death’s maid.”
He ignored my decline of his company and sat beside me, putting my trembling hands inside of his. “It’s simple. Today, you were defenseless in every case. Despite your bravery, every encounter ended in another loss. But when you are a surgeon or a nurse, you can often face your patients with an ounce of hope. If you made it through this traumatic event, you have a significant chance of being a wonderful nurse.” Then he hugged me and held me as my parents used to do.
Still, in his embrace, I responded, “I understand you only broke my spirit today, hoping to help me. You always mean well, as you’re not only my mentor but also my loving Papa.” We got up and slowly headed to our beds while we finished talking. Once my head reached the pillow, I crashed from pure exhaustion. David was out like a light; he’d already fallen asleep hours earlier.
There was scarcely time to prepare before the wounded came pouring in, paralyzing my immortal soul with fear. It was an unimaginable wave of destruction overtaking me until I was nearly as lifeless as the dead themselves. Cries shrieking for help forced me to keep moving. However, death loomed all around me.
I was given the job of comforting the dying soldiers in their final moments. Despite the many medical marvels of today, there are still many wounded that we are helpless to save. I bewailed the morbid task bestowed upon me, but there was no time to object.
I couldn’t swallow the growing lump in my throat as I stiffly approached the first soldier. Before I could speak, his ghastly hand grabbed my arm, instantly staining my skin with his blood. Panicked, yet briefly strengthened, it was the blood that caused my mind to recall 2 Corinthians 15:1-4 as given to us by the Apostle Paul in the Bible, the Oracle of God. My blood stains became larger and more prominent with each soldier that I visited as I shared the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Some of those who were dying listened intently, but I do not know whether they accepted. The arm of death is strong in this tug-of-war of life, but God is still victorious.
The day turned to night, and my heart and eyes were overflowing with tears. My eyes hadn’t been dry since seeing my first soldier bid farewell. After the last man in my care took his last breath, I got up and ran to a place to be by myself.
Papa found me sitting under an old tree, crying. He laid his hand upon the crown of my head. “Do you need a shoulder to cry on or a pair of ears to hear your grievances? If you would like, I can sit with you.”
“No, Papa, I don’t understand why you asked this of me. You said you wanted me to be a nurse, not a young death’s maid.”
He ignored my decline of his company and sat beside me, putting my trembling hands inside of his. “It’s simple. Today, you were defenseless in every case. Despite your bravery, every encounter ended in another loss. But when you are a surgeon or a nurse, you can often face your patients with an ounce of hope. If you made it through this traumatic event, you have a significant chance of being a wonderful nurse.” Then he hugged me and held me as my parents used to do.
Still, in his embrace, I responded, “I understand you only broke my spirit today, hoping to help me. You always mean well, as you’re not only my mentor but also my loving Papa.” We got up and slowly headed to our beds while we finished talking. Once my head reached the pillow, I crashed from pure exhaustion. David was out like a light; he’d already fallen asleep hours earlier.
***
A few days after the battle, David confided in me how Papa had asked him to bring me some water to drink and wash with. He had wanted to help me, but couldn’t approach all the dying and dead bodies. Papa had told him it was okay, but that he had to find someone else to help me because he was busy saving as many lives as possible that day. I brushed David’s hair with my hand that seemed would never fully lose the stain of blood and told him I completely understood.
It’s early morning, and a sense of apprehension is in the air. I walked with Papa and made our rounds of checking on patients. David snuck up and laid his head on my arm. He has decided he wants to become a scientist. We felt it would be very fitting, as he could work with Papa and me. I pray today is brighter than days passed as I shadow my favorite doctor and surgeon.
“My dear children, remember a daily walk with God strengthens us against the temptations and the afflictions of the flesh. Please don’t allow this Civil War to destroy and devour you.”
David and I both nodded in agreement. I never intended to set Jesus aside. As I gaze across the camp, I’m thankful for those who are still alive. My sincerest hope is that at least a few of the men who died accepted Jesus.
Papa is teaching David how to make Johnnie Cakes this morning. Their occasional laughter is a tremendous blessing amongst the heartaches and stress around us. I often regret never trying to get close to other people here. I didn’t ask their names in fear of them dying. I see now that I was wrong.
Dear Lord, please send me a Christian friend. Someone who will bring much joy and comfort in these troublesome times. I’ve faced tragedies that will trouble me all the days of my life. God, please grant us all refuge and peace beyond understanding.
It’s early morning, and a sense of apprehension is in the air. I walked with Papa and made our rounds of checking on patients. David snuck up and laid his head on my arm. He has decided he wants to become a scientist. We felt it would be very fitting, as he could work with Papa and me. I pray today is brighter than days passed as I shadow my favorite doctor and surgeon.
“My dear children, remember a daily walk with God strengthens us against the temptations and the afflictions of the flesh. Please don’t allow this Civil War to destroy and devour you.”
David and I both nodded in agreement. I never intended to set Jesus aside. As I gaze across the camp, I’m thankful for those who are still alive. My sincerest hope is that at least a few of the men who died accepted Jesus.
Papa is teaching David how to make Johnnie Cakes this morning. Their occasional laughter is a tremendous blessing amongst the heartaches and stress around us. I often regret never trying to get close to other people here. I didn’t ask their names in fear of them dying. I see now that I was wrong.
Dear Lord, please send me a Christian friend. Someone who will bring much joy and comfort in these troublesome times. I’ve faced tragedies that will trouble me all the days of my life. God, please grant us all refuge and peace beyond understanding.