I arrived at six am with the Army of the Gulf Medical corps. Because of the extreme heat, I sat on the sidelines. I was happy to be with my friends and I prayed none of the participants would suffer heat prostration. I watched the artillery set-up cannon.
Amblance drawn by mules arrives to load with wounded and dead.
People filled the stands. Over fifteen thousand sit in the beachers in the blazing sun.
Cavalry lead the way. The anticipation is high.
Flags flutter in the breeze. It’s too early in the war to display the battle flag, that came later.
Halting under the trees for water and rest. Soon they’ll face bullets and cannon fire.
Cutting through the crowds to get on the field.
Ready to Advance into battle. The rowds cheeer.
Keeping strong in the face of horror.
March into the faces of the foe.
Advancing across the field. Cannon smoke billows over the fighting.
Too many to see who is on what side.
Can you see? Who’s fallen? Where are the doctors?
Now the only thing left to do is to find the medical tents.
After many battle, both sides lost a generation of vital young men.
the South was decimated and the western emigration was born.
I saw this at the Manassass Battlefield Visitor’s Center.
It is an epitaph worth remembering.
“I had a dim notion of the ‘romance’ of a soldier’s life. I have bravely got over it since.”