4120. 1863

1863

(as found unfinished)

'In the sputtering mass of that moment, Mama,

they took me down. I had shot in my leg and it

was making blood run. The pain it was steely,

Mother, as it ran down my calf. I remembered,

or tried to, Decauter's directions, yet only could

remember having just entered Virginia. This hard

life was becoming a dream; like, as I screamed

with my newly-found verve.

-

The man who'd shot me was aimless and without

face  -  there was a flank of riflemen along the ridge

as we ran, and they were shooting as we were running.

It seemed no cannon, or nothing big  -  just the swift

form-rustle-snap of rifle-shot and gauge. Oh it hurt,

and I went down.

-

As I did come to, Mother, in this wall of pain, I

saw I was still alive, had all my limbs and could

still sense my moment. A man was coming slowly

towards me  -  in another uniform hat and clothing,

though as dishevelled as me. A warbler something

warbled, and it seemed a mean horse whinnied.

-

Mama, though now I will probably die, I grabbed

my gun and shot him in the throat  -  he went down

before me, and I watched his gurgling blood ebb

and finish. And oh, so soon after, I found this stub

to pencil and finish this note to you. Mother Lynette

Farnes Fitzgerald, Canterfield Georgia and Roxthan's F'

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