Learning to Love the Other Side

Yes, Drill Sargeant, Sir! (James)

***Hey all! Important info: I plan on doing a journal excerpt for most chapters from now on at the beginning of each chapter, or the very end of the chapter. It will be in the character's "own writing", so please understand this before you start pointing out spelling and grammar mistakes. Unfortunately, many southern boys did not know how to write very well during this time. They didn't have many grammar nazis around ;) Let me know if you like the journal entries, and where you'd like them placed. The PICTURE ABOVE is not James or Adam. These are real Confederate soldiers. The picture shows what the uniforms looked like.***

***********************************************************************************************

James stood in the middle of a tent full of young men tugging and shifting around uncomfortably. The uniforms that had been handed out were all shapes, sizes, and lengths. Despite the vast variances in uniform sizes, it was a rare sight to find a man wearing a uniform that actually fit. The Confederate militia had a hard time fulfilling the demands of supplies and uniforms needed.

"Well shoot. I always knew I was too tall." James shifted and starting tugging on the sleeves of his uniform uncomfortably. 

"You ain't the only one," Adam grumbled, not used to having things not tailored to his exact body shape. 

James let go of his uniform sleeves and looked at his friend. He couldn't suppress his laughter, as he took in the hilarious sight. Adam wasn't very tall, so his uniform was swallowing him up. 

"You look like you're wearin' a fat man's uniform. Geez, they ain't got no better size for ya?" 

Adam was looking more and more disappointed by the minute. His uniform sleeves were too long, his pants were a tad too lengthy, and the circumference of the grey colored jacket was a little too tubby for Adam's more slender and fit stature. 

"Nah, the lady say they don't have any more sizes. Said they were runnin' low on uniforms as is. And don't you start laughin' at me. You look like an overgrown elf or something," Adam replied with a disappointed frown.

James and Adam had a glorious view of the war. They had both imagined themselves wearing smart, crisp, well-fitting grey uniforms marching off to war to preserve their rights. Unfortunately,  right off the bat, their glorious image of the war was being tainted. 

The boys ended up switching uniforms but found they ran into similar issues as before. They didn't have long to joke or grumble about it this time though. 

"Attention!"

James and Adam quickly moved into a straight line with the other boys and men in front of the Drill Sargeant. It was a clumsy process, the newly recruited soldiers not really knowing where to go, and seemingly forgetting how to quickly create a straight line.

James found a spot in the formation and stood tall with his feet together and a hand saluted at his forehead. Adam stood next to him doing the same. The Drill Sargeant walked along the row of grey unformed men, his face sour and his eyes bloodshot. He was in a similar uniform as the rest of them but had a sword hanging from his side, and his uniform seemed to fit, unlike the others.

James immediately did not like the man. He was balding, and his fading black mustache was choppily cut, and frown lines littered the Drill Sargeant's face as if he had spent his whole thirty-something years frowning and scowling at anyone he laid eyes on. His stomach slightly bulged, indicating he had had his fair share of alcohol in his lifetime, and the collar of his coat seemed to be slightly choking him (James couldn't figure out if his face was bright red because he was angry, or if it was the tightness of his jacket). 

His breath smelled foul, like a mix of tobacco and rotten meat. In fact, as the Drill Sargeant stopped in front of James, James was pretty sure he spotted a chunk of meat lodged in the Sargeant's yellowed teeth. He didn't have too much time to think about the man's appearance before Drill Sargeant was yelling in his face.