Falling for the Enemy

War, What is it Good for?

                                                                                Henry

“I am Henry Washburne a soldier in the United Army, I was in the battle at the Goldsboro Bridge and was injured. A family nursed me back to health and I have returned to complete my duty to the United Army.”  

Upon finishing my statement five men dressed in familiar navy blue uniforms walk out from the bunkers, they still have their rifles aimed at me.  

“Get down from your horse. We will take you inside to speak with our military governor Edward Stanly.” 

I do everything I am told without hesitation.  Instantly dismounting Brennan and guiding her reigns behind me I follow the soldiers towards the entrance of the fort.  I do not know if the men believe me or not but they seem more at ease.  I am assuming it is due to my lack of weapons and a southern accent. The men lead me inside the fort and take me directly to Stanly’s location.  I replay my story to Stanly and I am soon on my way to join the army of the Potomac which is under Major General Joseph Hooker in Northern Virginia.  When I reach the Army of the Potomac’s location we spend most of June drilling and practicing various war techniques.  In fact, our division sees such little action that most of the men begin passing time by playing dominoes and cards.  I, however, spend most of my time thinking about Catherine and the last few days we spent together.  I can still easily picture her in my mind, and I am often brought back to the morning after we first made love and how she looked lying beside me sleeping so peacefully.     

There is a lot of talk of removing General Hooker from command in the camp. Prior to my return to The Army of the Potomac, General Hooker had just lost The Battle of Chancellorsville and political winds were blowing strongly towards his ousting.  I do not know the man personally but from what I have heard of him, he is an amazing leader who is seen as a hero in the eyes of many of the men.  However, The Battle of Chancellorsville has upset many people higher up.  After spending a few days in camp with the Army of Potomac, Hooker is soon overthrown and replaced with General George Meade.  The Army of the Potomac relocates and I officially come under the command of General Meade in Maryland.  It is when we arrive in Maryland that we hear news of a planned attack by the Rebel's General Lee in Pennsylvania.  So after being under General Meade’s command for a mere three days we are soon being led into battle in a town called Gettysburg in Pennsylvania. My small unit is directed by Major General Daniel Sickles and it is on July 1, 1863, that we learn of a battle that has occurred between the two opposing forces and we must rush to join our comrades in battle because they are sorely outnumbered and we need as many men as possible.  

On July 2nd we arrive in Gettysburg and we are given orders to set up defensive positions on various ridges in the area.  The ridges on which we set up our defensive positions are referred to as Cemetery Hill, Culp’s Hill, Little Roundtop, and in a peach orchard about a mile away from Cemetery Ridge.  I know that the battle yesterday on the first of July was a bloody battle and that both sides lost a lot of men.  From what I can tell this may be one of the biggest battles of our entire war up to this point.  I can see tens of thousands of men joining together on both sides, and even though this is not my first battle of this war, I feel as if I am in a whole new league.  The feeling is ominous and all the men are on edge.  This is going to be an immense battle and there are going to be a lot of lives lost and every single man, whether they are Rebel or United can feel the end approaching.   

This is unlike any battle I have ever been a part of and this is the first time I will be seeing any battle since leaving Catherine.  I thought of the promise I made her as I sit looking over the rolling fields waiting for the battle to begin.  I promised Catherine I would come back for her but sitting on this ridge staring out into the field, I am no longer sure I can keep that promise.    I am sitting next to a boy from Maryland, who has only just turned 18 years old; I never do get his name before the battle begins.  We don’t know each other well but sitting next to him on the ridge for hours waiting for the bloodshed to begin can create a lot of nervous conversation.  

The boy and I are soon lost in conversation trying desperately to hold onto our sanity while we wait for hell on earth.  I learn that he was the only boy in his family and that he has six sisters and this would be his very first time in battle. When I learn that this is his first time seeing battle I feel ill.  This young boy has no experience in battle and his first experience is going to be in a battle of this magnitude, I silently pray that the boy from Maryland will stay safe and live to see another day of battle somewhere else outside of Gettysburg.   

We sit into the day with our musket rifles aimed and ready and waiting for the end to begin.  I tell him about Catherine and how she was a southern girl who took me in when I was close to death.  I talk of her beauty and he shares a photo of the girl he left behind.  Looking at his photo, I am very disheartened by the fact that I do not have a photo of Catherine to gaze at while I am sitting here waiting for death to be upon me.  I would have liked to stare at her face while we waited for the war to begin but her memory is still fresh in my mind.  I can easily picture her blue eyes and tanned skin from being out in the fields.  I can also easily picture Moher, the fields, Samuel and his family, and the pond where Catherine and I first bathed together.  

Being pulled from memories the boy from Maryland is speaking to me.  

“May I have a drink from your canteen?  I seemed to have misplaced mine." 

I hand the boy from Maryland my canteen and one moment he is taking a drink from the canteen and in another, I hear a loud multitude of booms surrounding us.  Musket balls are flying and buzzing through the air.  Turning my head for just a moment to pick up my rifle and then turning back to the boy from Maryland who was just drinking from my canteen; I see that he is no longer drinking. He is now covering my body with pieces of his head and flesh.   A cannonball has struck him directly in the head decapitating him instantly.