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The
Young Soldier
- - By Dawn Jackson - age 9
September 19, 1864
"March!" The word rang in my head as it had when we were
training. It seemed just yesterday that I had been a little boy
wishing for something. I could just remember how we were so excited
about going into battle. It was like an awful dream that I could
just wake up and everything would disappear. We marched up the hill
as the opposing army approached. We were all firing cannons every
which way. I looked around in horror as people fell to the ground
in pain. I felt something hit my shoulder. I reached up to touch
it and my hand turned red.
September 20, 1864
I woke to find myself at camp in my tent. My arm is bandaged but
it throbs continuously. I wrap extra bandages around it. It takes
all my strength to stand in great pain. Bob offers me some breakfast
and fetches my musket. He walks over to me and asks, "Sleep
Okay?" He helps me to the line but I trip over my musket unable
to regain my balance. I fall to the ground. "You Okay?"
Bob asks. I nod helplessly. We make it to the field and the shooting
begins. The smoke billows around me. I hear a yell of pain. I turn
just in time to see Bob fall to the ground. Kind Bob who had bandaged
me up and was my closest friend was dead. That evening, my arm continues
to hurt. I write to my mother. Here is what the letter said.
9/20/64
Dear Mother,
It seems like yesterday that I would cuddle in your arms as
you held me close. I'd give anything to be with you today. War
is not what I thought it would be. My friends are dying. There
is such pain and destruction. I hope it ends soon. Give my greatest
love to Father. Hope to see you soon.
With much love,
Frederick
P.S. I have a deep wound in my shoulder. |
I put
down my pen and drift off to sleep.
Sept. 21, 1864
I am forbidden to go to battle today, so I'll just rest.
Sept. 25, 1864
I receive a letter from my mother
9/22/64
Dear Fred.
I am deeply sorry to hear about your shoulder. Tis quite lonely
without you. Papa and I want you to hurry home. I wish you didn't
have to experience these horrible things. You know we love you.
Try to do your best in everything. May God watch over you.
Your loving Mama |
Sept. 26, 1864
The battle is over but the war continues. Will write to Mama. Am discharged
today and will come home soon. I can't wait to see my family. |
