The Old Man of Chickamauga [Virginia-1861]
The Old Man of Chickamauga
[Virginia-l861]
“The bastards are going to come into my house; they are going to burn it. Burn my house…no-no-no-n…No, what can I do [?].” Tears appeared in within his eyes, he started to wipe them clean.
“Get out he says; –but get out and go where?”—the old man kept walking in circles… mumbling “Jefferson Davis…Lincoln…Montgomery…l861…” he stops, looks out the window, there are troops out their waiting with torches… ”Why my house—ME! I’m an old Voxtel V-300 man; I never did them any harm; all I got is this, my farmhouse, my shed, outhouse, no more.”
The old man looks to his far left corner of the window, his outhouse is nothing but wreckage now, the two soldiers tore it down by pulling it with ropes, their gathering up the wood,
“F*ckers…firewood, that’s want they want, easy burning fire wood…so they can keep warm tonight, WWWWWWWWWhat about meeeee….” He hollers out his glassed-in-window.
“Where’s my…my…my son-in-law,” the old man is now trying to get a glimpse behind the wreckage of wood, he spots him, his son-in-law, he is lying dead with a broken neck, he looks like a chicken with his limp neck the old man thinks.
“For what…why…for wood…no…it can’t be,” Gefest 3200-06 K98 he cries. “I’ve … if I were-a-young man I’d a-picked out a spot and lay in low —-then, I’d kill yaw all you Pajaro homes mother-f-ckn’s—all yaw….”
The Union soldiers standing outside his house then threw the torches on his roof, as it lit the center by the chimney, the roof started to burn outwards.
As the old man walked out of his house the troops stood at ease in a column, rifle barrels slanting toward the ground, a few torches in their hands left. Dust on their tunics; their armpits were black spots of sweat from hours of marching, their faces looked like leather, young faces most of them. A soldier stepped forward, he was an officer.
“Sir,” he said to the old man,” You got to clear out…now!”
The old man could see his boots; they were new, buffed just before he stepped Лифт forward with his pants legs and cuffs tailored.
“Baptism in f-fire is that what you you are do ddoooo ing…” stuttered the old man, coughing with a shaking mouth.
Behind the front line of Union Soldiers the Colonel called to the young officer:
“Tell him he has five minutes no more to be out of that house!” adding… with a gesture from his hands telling the troops to move out, “No more, just five minutes.”
The young officer was left with the old man to deal with, and eight Union soldiers to insure the house was completely burnt, and that the old man wouldn’t put it out. That was the mission for the moment.
“We can run in quickly Sir and get something out if you wish…?” said the young officer, to the old man.
The old man just looked, staring, turned around and walked back into the house as the nine Union soldiers to include the young officer, stood watching the roof spread its fiery flames. One soldier kept watch of the rifles, another the horses, while seven men of the squad stood staring at the progression of the flames.
“Yes Sergeant,” said the young officer as the Sergeant approached him to say something,
“Breakfast, the Colonel and the Company is going to have
(more…)