The Air in Me ... Yearns for a story

The Air in Me … yearns for a story

“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.”
—Ernest Hemingway

I feel like sharing a story with you, one that I wrote last Spring. It has to

do with something I have always had an interest in, The American Civil War.

Please enjoy.

Sgt. Pickett

The song, “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” was part of the inspiration for Sgt. Pickett. It was written by Patrick Galvin in 1863 and became popular among the north and south as a plea for the end of the war.

(Music: When Johnny Comes Marching Home)

The date is May 21, 1864, in a little over a year from this date General Lee will surrender to General Grant …. The war will finally be over. but on a field once lush and green … not far from where the surrender will take place, six Union soldiers are closing in on a rag tag collection of Confederate soldiers from the Virginia 18^th.

Before long there will be one final flurry of bullets flying and knives clashing in the early dawn of a cool spring day.

(Music: When Johnny Comes Marching Home)

Union Soldier Sgt. John Pickett led our squad of six …

Our small squad had walked for three long days when we came to the edge of a bluff. Just below us we discovered a small meadow. To the left and the right the meadow was open space, up the middle a small grove of sycamores grew tall and lonely; Oh, I thought if those trees could only talk.

That night we kept a low fire but off in the distance we could hear the enemy singing songs, joking with fellow soldiers about how they’d teach ‘them’ Yankees a thing or two.

Sgt. Picket, a builder by trade, he’d built houses and barns up in Pennsylvania, and Pickett was a gambler for fun, that night though he  was quiet, more quiet than I could ever remember. All he said was “Try to get some rest, tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” He assigned watches and before long we were asleep.

Day break came early, Pickett motioned for me to follow him; Privates Mooney and Diggs were to go to the left side of the meadow about 50 yards from where we stood. Belmont and Squires made their way through a stand of trees in the middle and Pickett and me stayed to the right and off we went.

(Music: When Johnny Comes Marching Home)

Like I say, Pickett was afraid of nothing; but this day was different, his foot step’s fell with caution; his motions slower, like I say, this day was different.

It was like he knew something was up … his caution made me to think about each breath I took, each step I took …

We’d gone a short distance; maybe 25 yards … when Pickett stopped, I stopped, when he knelt down to one knee, I knelt down to one knee, when he fastened his bayonet to his rifle and I did the same. But then things changed:

(Music: UPTEMPO When Johnny Comes Marching Home uptempo)

Pickett stopped long enough for me to catch up to him. He motioned for me to stay to his left side … so’s I could keep an eye on any unwelcome movement … the next thing I know is Sargent Pickett is spooked, stops cold in his tracks, looks forward, looks back, then he yells “Rebs” and he moves to his right, hears something moving in the grass … when all hell breaks out, the flash, the bang, Pickett’s on his ass, cold and lonely and dead … Mooney killed one Rebel soldier, Diggs wounded in the shoulder, Belmont and Squires came to help me, when I realized Sgt. Pickett was dead I moved towards him when a young boy couldn’t a been more than 16 stood In the tall grass and pointed his rifle right between my eyes. Squires hollered, “Reb” I fired … he couldn’t a been more than 20 feet from where I stood. I shot first, he went down and before long it was over … a hush lay in the meadow and off in the distance one of the rebels moaned … “no more war, no more war, no more war. Diggs and I soon joined the chant and In a moment everyone alive quietly sang “No more war, over and over and over.

After we gathered up Sgt. PIckett, we went our way…the rebs went their way. Not once did we look back.

(Music: When Johnny Comes Marching Home SOFTLY)

It will still be over a year before this dreadful war is ended; over 600,000 troops give up their life, over 450,000 wounded and maimed and one President is left cold and lonely and dead, just like Sgt. John Pickett.

Chorus:

There was a flash and a bang

Pretty soon the angels sang,

Quiet as the cemetery dead;

lay the body of Sgt. John Pickett

Resting peacefully now down in among the thicket.

The angels sang a simple song ‘cause Johnny Pickett was now marching home.

And I loved him so very much.

(Music fades out)

As always, thanks for reading my blog.

Dan