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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1059986-The-Way-Home
Rated: E · Short Story · History · #1059986
A young civil war soldier longs to return home to be with the one he loves.
It had been a long day’s march for the men of Company G. Actually, it had been a long hard march for the entire eightieth Indiana regiment. They had covered twelve miles from somewhere north of Willisburg to Mackville. Private Samuel Thacker was glad when they finally came to a halt.

They had left Louisville just six days ago, October the first, covering over sixty miles to where the company was now camped at Mackville. Thacker’s feet were very sore, but that did not bother him so much. What did bother him was an unquenchable thirst. The ground they had covered held very little water. This was largely due to the dry summer that Kentucky had been through.

The only bit of water Thacker had been able to find was in farm ponds along the way. Most of those either had dead livestock lying in it or were full of mud. At first, he refused to drink from them, for fear of catching some unknown disease. But after marching for a while in the hot sun, Thacker quickly changed his mind.

That was not the only thing the soldiers had to deal with. Since Thacker and the eightieth Indiana were fresh new recruits, they had to put up with all kinds of abuse from the veterans. In Louisville it was little things, mostly name calling. But as they march began and continued on for some time, they began to steal blankets and shoes from them. When some of the other new recruits hopped in the ambulance wagon from exhaustion, they were greeted with relentless taunts from the veterans.

Thacker tried his best to ignore them, but as their attacks grew more and more ruthless, Thacker began to detest them. After one had stolen his blanket during the night, he began sleeping with his rifle by his side. He really didn’t think he would have to shoot anyone, Thacker thought the sight of the weapon would scare them off.

Some of the other recruits could not deal with it though. Thacker had heard rumors
that several from his company had deserted. He couldn’t blame them, deep down Thacker wished he had never signed up.

At the time, it was the thing to do in Decker Station, Indiana. Several of his friends had enlisted to go fight the rebels. They convinced him that it was up to them to defeat the enemy and reunite the Union. Thacker really didn’t want to go, he had just got married and he really wanted to be with his wife Bethany. But his friends talked him into joining.

Thacker looked up into the sky as the sun was just finishing setting. He walked over to a nearby tree. Placing his bag and rifle on the ground, he plopped down and pulled off his shoes. He rubbed his terribly sore feet and then reached into his bag. In the bag was a small pan, some matches, and a blanket.

He took the blanket and covered up with it as he leaned up against the tree. Thacker closed his eyes and began to dream of home. The summer fields of Indiana filled with rows of fresh corn entered his mind. Then it wandered on to a little a house in southern part of the state, in the small town of Decker Station, not far from the banks of the White River.

A brown ragged fence stood in front of the house, with chickens running loose in front of it. The barking of his dog, Biscuit, could be heard off in the background as the mutt chased after the squirrels. Coming from the house was the smell of freshly cooked bacon and the sound of eggs crackling in a skillet, making his mouth water. It had been a long time since he had tasted a home cooked meal. All these things made Thacker long for home, but none more so than the person sitting on the front porch.

On the porch sat a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed angel, gently swinging back in forth. She looked up and smiled at Thacker as he approached the house. He ran and embraced her in his arms, as tears of joy streamed down his face. Suddenly he heard a large boom and everything went black. Seconds later, Thacker felt someone shaking him.

He opened his eyes to find Private Kimens standing in front of him. Thacker and Kimens were two of the six that came from Decker Station, all of them had some how ended up in the same company. He was glad too, because Thacker knew he would not have lasted this long without his buddies being around.

At this particular moment, Thacker was not thrilled to see Kimens. But he knew something was up because Kimens’s face was pale.

“What time is it?” asked Thacker.
“Around three in the morning,” said the obviously frightened Kimens.

“Then whatever it is can wait ‘til morning.” Thacker rolled over and tried to back to sleep. That is when he heard the same boom from his dream. That was when he heard the same boom from his dream. Then it clicked, the boom was the sound of canon blasts off in the distance, explaining why Kimens was so scared.

“General McCook just received orders to march to Perryville, we need to start getting ready,” said Kimens as another canon sounded off in the distance.

A wave of fear came over Thacker. If they would be in battle tomorrow, there would be a good chance he could die. He did not want to die, nor did Thacker want to fight at all. Home is where he wanted to go. Yet he could not go back.

Thacker knew if he went back now, the Union could lose the war. He knew that one lone soldier probably would not make the difference, but if the Union lost this battle it would bring them closer to Indiana. Closer to Bethany, and it was hard telling what those dirty rebels would do to her. As long as he was still breathing, nothing would harm her.

***
It took them two hours to finally get prepared for the march. In that time, Thacker had learned they were heading to Perryville to engage a large army of rebels that were camping there. Some of the recruits in his unit were excited. They had been training with their rifles for several months and were ready to put them to good use. Others were scared; the veterans had told them stories of previous battles. They told them about the cruel and brutal things that were seen in battle.

One story in particular talked about how one of the commanding officers was killed. He was giving orders during the battle to the men when the rebels started pounding them with artillery fire. A solid shot from a Napoleon was fired and struck the officer, passing right through him. The shot embedded the unfortunate officer’s innards in the ground several feet behind him.

Thacker was frightened by this story. He could imagine one of those shots passing through him and the unbearable pain that would follow. The upcoming battle frightened him as well. He really was not sure of what it was, but something was making him nervous.

He kept trying to think to tomorrow, about the aftermath of the battle. But something inside Thacker was telling him there would be no tomorrow; that he was going to die today. He hoped it would not be as gruesome as the stories, actually he hoped not to die at all. Thacker had big plans for when he came home. And the thought of leaving behind Bethany, not coming home to see her was almost enough to kill him.

As they began to march, Thacker tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind. But they didn’t want to be put back. He was beginning to get frustrated when suddenly he heard the song ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’ being played off in the distance.

Thacker quietly began to sing the song to himself. As he uttered the last line, a strange peace came over him. He realized that no matter what happened, God’s truth would march on. If Thacker died, the Union would march on and continue the fight because God’s truth was that no man should be the slave of another.

***
After arriving in Perryville around nine o’clock, Thacker had been in complete confusion. First, they sat there for a long time doing absolutely nothing as canons and gun fire could be heard all around them. Then around noon, McCook received orders saying that the battle had been called off for the day, but some must have forgot to tell the rebels that because they were still firing. As a matter of fact, the fighting sounded even more intense. Now Colonel Webster had received orders that the eightieth Indiana was supposed to cover the Widow Gibson house.

Thacker tightly gripped his rifle as they marched toward the house. Canon blasts could be heard as they moved forward. Soon, shots began flying over their heads and they began passing bloodied soldiers lying on the ground. The sights and sounds of battle were all around them.

Colonel Webster had them load their weapons and prepare to engage the enemy. He said some words of encouragement to the young soldiers, on the verge of their first battle. After today, they would no longer be the same. They would all know the struggles and horrors of battle, now they would be veterans.

Thacker began plotting on the things that he would do to the new recruits he would come across. How he would steal their blankets or tease them for stopping during the long marches. Then he realized how that treatment, that rejection from the veterans had made him feel. So Thacker vowed to himself never to mistreat the young soldiers, but treat them with the respect he had wanted.

As he stood there, in a daze of his own thoughts, bullets began to whiz past him. Startled by the sudden interruption, Thacker looked and saw a group of rebels approaching them. Thacker looked at Colonel Webster expecting some kind of advice, but he too seemed to be wondering where the enemy had come from.

The moment of confusion lasted only a few minutes for Webster, he quickly positioned his men and started barking out orders. With his hands nervously shaking, Thacker raised his rifle at Webster’s command. Then the command to fire was given.

Thacker pulled the trigger and watched as a line of rebels fell to the ground. He quickly then tried to reload. As he took aim to fire again, the rebels began to return fire. Several men dropped to the ground.

He took aim on another advancing rebel, and fired again, missing a little to left. Another volley from rebels came as Thacker once more attempted to reload. As he went to raise his rifle, Thacker felt a terrible burning sensation hit his stomach. A pain unlike any he had felt before. The rifle dropped from his hands and he collapsed to the ground.

Thacker reached down and felt his stomach. His uniform was already soaked in blood. A burning pain began to go through out his entire body. He began to realize he was going to die. Even though Thacker had no idea where the bullet had hit, he knew that the situation was serious and he was losing too much blood at a rapid rate.

A slow numbness began to creep up his body from his feet, as it became harder to breathe. Thacker’s mind began to think back to the warm summer days that he spent working in the fields. He longed to return to Decker Station and sit under the trees and feel the warm breeze that made his fish lining dance as it passed by. He longed to see the beauty and vast array of colors of the Indiana autumn trees. But never more would his eyes be able to behold such things.

Never more would Thacker be beckoned home by the smell of fresh baked bread. Worst yet, never more would a beautiful blonde girl run out to meet him as he came up the dusty road. He would never again be able to feel the warmth of her embrace.

Tears swelled up in Thacker’s eyes and began to stream down his cheeks. A longing for the comfort of home filled his heart. As the world and the sounds of battle around him started to fade, Thacker began to wish for someone to take him home. But in his heart Thacker knew no one would come, that he would die.

Soon each breath became difficult, every one seemed harder than the last. As Thacker struggled to breathe, the darkness and cold of despair filled him. Then, suddenly, he felt a strange warmth come over him, covering his battered body in a blanket. A bright light began to shine all around him, a light so bright that it beat back all the darkness.

From within the bright light a hand reached out to him. Thacker trembled as he reached out to take the hand which looked as if it had been pierced by nail. He looked to see who the hand belonged to, but the brightness of the light blinded him. All he could so was the outline of a man with long dark hair.

Thacker wanted to ask the man who he was and what it was he sought after, but his mouth could not form the words. Then the man placed his hand on Thacker’s shoulder. All the pain amazingly left his body, the difficulty to breath vanished.

“Who are you?” asked Thacker in astonishment.

“ Someone who has come to show you the way home,” said the man.
© Copyright 2006 Jason Barnett (xenophen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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