Ryden Oneshots

The Menu Entrée

It’s July 27th, 1864. The war’s been going on for a couple of years now and I’ve been one of the few lucky ones to have survived it since the very beginning. My friends have been split up from me and I wonder each and every day if they’re alive. My dad was killed about a year ago in Virginia. He had done everything in his power for us to be in the same camp during the registration and training processes. I still can’t believe that I’m out here on my own without him and the rest of my life after this will be without him, too. Even now, it hasn’t hit me that he’s just another body count.

A friend I gained, Jon, was transferred to my regiment at the start of the past winter. We hit it off because he lost his father, too, along with uncles and nephews. Some were missing and I pitied him, realizing that my situation wasn’t as bad as his and some of the others out there.

We were based in Chattanooga, Tennessee after winning over the Confederates a couple months prior. It’s right next to North Carolina and Georgia and is considered “the gateway to the South.” It was a major victory for us, but that didn’t mean the Confederacy wouldn’t try to take it back. Most of our unit was sent to Atlanta after we won, but Jon and I remained. I was happy because I was born and raised Mayfield, Kentucky, and there were rumors going around that Columbus was attacked, which was near there. I was worried for my mother and two young sisters. I always wrote from day one and haven’t received anything back except for a letter last year, saying they only got one letter from me and I should write more.. Bad thoughts frequently ran through my head, but I tried not to let them control me. The mail service was unreliable and that was my only hope.

We were done with drills for the day and the sun was just starting to go down. It looked beautiful and instead of running to the food tent or towards downtown to the bars, I stood in the middle of the field and stared. No matter how many times I saw the sun rise and set, it never seized to amaze me. Every day, the colors were somehow different and the mood given off varied. Sometimes the mornings were fresh, sometimes they were gloomy. Sometimes the evenings were relaxed, sometimes they were dark and mysterious. Unknowing. Just like life.

I walked back to the tent that I shared with seven other soldiers and sat on my cot. It was empty, of course, because all of them went to town and wouldn’t come back until the middle of the night. Luckily, I was a hard sleeper, so I never heard them.

Jon poked his head between the flaps seconds later, smile on his face. “You’re coming with me,” he demanded, stomping in and grabbing both of my wrists.

I stood up when he pulled and let him drag me outside. “Where?”

“Town.”

My feet froze and I pulled back in retreat. I know what happens in those bars. It’s not just men sitting around a table, playing a game of poker with a round of beers. No, it was more dirty than that. Much more dirty. It wasn’t my cup of tea.

Jon tightened his hold on me and pulled even more. “No, you’re coming. You have to get a life other than here, Brendon.”

“You know that right this very second, our men across the country could be falling to the ground for our safety? That we could be beckoned to their aid at any moment?” I reminded him, his statement angering me.

The war was a joke to some people. An automatic win for the Union because, really, the traitors have no chance in hell. No chance. The time off was to party and celebrate before the official word comes to let us know when we can go back to life as we knew it three years ago. Not to me. My father died in front of my eyes and I was aware what was happening and what was going to happen. This was no joke to me.

Jon rolled his eyes and yanked me, causing me to stumble forward and therefore letting him get the upper hand on my unbalance. He pulled me away from camp and towards the path that would lead us to the main road and, essentially, downtown. “The colonels and generals all go. They’ll be there if something happens.”