Why, I do declare! My boy is growning up!
He wouldn't even give his Momma any sugar this mornin' on his way out the door - because grown boys who are about to go a fightin' for The Cause
do not give their Mommas the sugar of a five year old, don't ya know?
He's fightin' with Robert E. Lee today. General of the Confederate Army.
The 5Th Grade Classes have got themselves a Civil War Reenactment going on and it's gonna take all day for them to come to the conclusion that the South has, once again, lost to the tenacious hands of those damn Yankees of the North.
I thought Jack would be soppin' mad to be on the losing side. But frankly my dears, he really doesn't seem to give a damn.
He
is excited, though, to be holdin' an imitation muzzle-loading rifle - which, for once - he can legitimately point at another human without hearing his Momma a hootin' and a hollerin' about the evil ways of guns.
And I'm fixin' to go down the road a piece at about noon time to watch Jack and General Lee fire their losing shots.
Not sure if my boy is gonna live or die yet ...
They're handing out the "fate" cards as we speak.
But whatever outcome is handed to him by the larger hands of the Almighty (Mr. Mattioli to be precise) - we will know that he fought with honor and dignity, wearing a designer top costin' nearly a year's salary new, because we just had nothin' else that seemed fittin' enough for an event such as this.
Finally, his dear old heart-sick Momma (that would be me) had to write him a
surprise letter that will be read aloud to him at "Mail Call" time.
Thought I'd paste a copy below.
Fiddel-dee-dee!
December 1, 1864
My Dearest Son,
I’m writing to you today in the hopes that this letter will reach you in time for Christmas. I know this is usually your favorite time of year, as it is mine; but I’m afraid that this year it will feel cheerless and sad without you.
I know you think I worry too much and I probably do. However, the only news we’ve heard recently has been bad news. I’m being told that too many of our boys are being lost in battle, like that awful Siege at Petersburg; and I don’t think my lonesome heart could take it if I were to lose you too. I miss you so much. All I can think about is getting you safely home before those darn Yankies have the opportunity to take you away from me.
I know I’ve been lucky so far. Your Aunt June has now lost three of her boys to those hypocrites from the North. Her only saving grace is that your Uncle Tom is now by her side to help. I wish I could say the same for your own Father. He’s technically still breathing every day - but that’s about as much life as the Old Goat has left in him! Losing both his legs at Gettysburg did something to his mind as well. Sometimes I think he’d rather have died. Having no real use around the farm has made him depressed and I think the fact that he’s watching his slaves disappear every day to the temptations of the North only furthers his frustration. When y’all started fighting it was for the good of State’s Rights. I mean we could see Lincoln’s point about all being created equal and all; but we never were the type to whip our slaves or break up their families, as you know. Your Father thought he was doing them some good by this, and now he feels like he’s been stabbed in the back. Furthermore, we’re hearing about Sherman laying waste to all our good farm and plantation land down here. It just isn’t right.
Of course, it doesn’t help that your Uncle took to fighting for the other side when the Northern portion of Virginia seceded. This is when your Father took to drinking every night. Some of the names he calls your Uncle would no doubt make The Devil himself turn redder than a Beet in the Southern Sun.
Things don’t sound too good, son. I’m not hearing about any more victories. Not since Cold Harbor back in June. Sherman’s march to Atlanta and then its fall on September 2nd has led to massive defeat of both mind and body. There are those who are more scared of the slaves now marching with him than they were of Sherman himself. I also hear that Lee’s army is so thinned by desertion and casualty that it is going to be both tactically and logistically impossible to win anything now. I just think it’s time we cut our losses and just brought all of our boys home.
I did not want to be depressing, but son, with you gone and with all the death and destruction, it is hard to feel any joy. Please. Just come home safe as soon as you can. I miss you and love you so much.
Mom.
