Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter!

Prologue
To Arms in Dixie!

The road was nothing more than a hog trail, and yet it was the road we were doomed to follow. How strange it must have been to the troop of boy scouts that we passed on some nature hike, to see four hundred men and boys all dressed in Confederate gray. I include myself in that four hundred doomed souls, I'd found myself kitted out period clothing at my fathers request.

Tough black leather shoes that had to be laced up tight, gray woolen trousers, a matching gray woolen blouse. The blouse had to button up right to the collar, a line of twelve brass buttons ran down the middle. Each of the brass buttons had been proudly stamped with the three letters of “CSA” that stood for the “Confederate States of America”. Lovely.

Upon my shoulder was a musket, and upon my hop a leather box, and upon back a leather knapsack. The knapsack weighed a ton, as it carried my rations, sleeping roll, cooking kit, and a spare uniform. For rations, I'd been given salted pork, dried peas, coffee, and hardtack. I was told that would be our lunch.

I guess I should tell you a little about myself. My name is Ash Albert Fisherman., I was born on Ash Wednesday, and I'm a Sophomore  at St. James the Bless Episcopal Academy. And right now, I'm playing the part of a Confederate Soldier, in a historical reenactment of the Battle of Blue Bayou  Road.

This was no my idea, it had been my father's idea to volunteer me to play the part as a Confederate Soldier, It had been him who had signed me me, and it has been his political pull in town that had secured me a spot among the noble four hundred now marching toward certain doom and gloom.

Now, my father George Albert Fisherman was something of big fish in our small town of Blue Bayou. He owned a small gas station that was located right before you got into town called “Fisherman's Fuel & Food” and billed itself as having some of the best fried chicken around. He also owned the local ice plant.

Civic wise he was a Master Mason, he sat on the parish board of supervisors, down here in Louisian counties are called parishes. And he was president of the board of the Bank of Blue Bayou. Yes our town had it's own private bank, a bank that catered to mostly businessmen and their families.

He was also on the vestry of our local Episcopal Church, Christ Church Episcopal Church, this gave him a ton of political connections and even more political clout. He was always a man's man, he loved nothing more than a good game of poker, often located in the back room of some rural country store, with the air as the morning fog with smoke from cigars and cigarettes.

He lived to hunt, he loved nothing more than to get his picture plastered on the front of the  local paper, the picture normally showed him kneeling down, dressed in full hunting gear smiling, clutching a thick cuban cigar in his mouth as he held up a freshly killed buck. He often use to boast to his hunting buddies that he just loved to kill things and anything that wandered into his line of sight was as good as dead. 

“Look alive boys!” A voice echoed. I lifted my weary head and noticed standing upon a hill was my father. He seemed full of himself. His short brown hair had been greased back, his massive arms were folded across his chest.

“There are twelve hundred Federals waiting for us down the road. But I want y'all to remember that any Southern man worth his salt could lick a dozen of them blue bastards.” He called out. “We'll drive them into the swamps before the days are over with! Then we're going to retake New Orleans and kick them out of this state!”

I cast my eyes down as I passed him by, he and I were not on talking terms. I had been conscripted into this. He'd given me no choice.

“A little music will inspire the men to heroic deeds.” He said turning toward another man who had just walked up and was standing beside him. Her big arms were folded across his chest and he like my father, had his hair slicked back.

“I agree with Colonel Fisherman.” He said smiling. “Bandmaster,” He bellowed out. “Play Dixie!” Tha man said in a loud booming tone of voice that echoed like a bull horn.

“Excellent choice Major Winters.” My dad said smiling.

“Bandmaster, play 'Dixie'” Dad bellowed from a top his half starved steed..

And then small band that was marching behind the color guard that was a quarter of a mile up the road. Came the opening strands of 'Dixie' and then the whole column took up the song. And I was forced to sing along. The onlooking crowd of boy scouts and civilians just looked on in wry amusement.

Oh, I wish I was in the land of Cotton,
Old Tymes there are not forgotten,
Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land!

In DixieLand where I was born.
Early on a frosty morn',
Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land!

I wish I was in Dixie, Hurray!  Hurray!
In Dixie Land I'll take my stand.
To live or die in Dixie!

Away, away, away down south in Dixie!
Away, away, away down south in Dixie!

Old Missus married will, the weave,

“I thought the war was in far flung Pennsylvania!” I heard a voice call out. “What are you boys doing marching toward New Orleans! Has Jefferson Davies abandoned us? What happen to the cry 'Onward to Washington!' now must the ruins of war be brought to our southern homeland because the night of the Federal army has crushed the head of our gallant southern boys?!” The voice belonged to my cousin Isabella who had gotten herself all dressed up in a old fashioned southern belle dress.

“Has Jefferson Davies stooped so low that we are now sending children to fill the hallowed out ranks! Has our noble cause flattered so much, that now in our  fair southern wind the flags of the north flutter! Has the ruin of war and the melee of combat now been pushed into our own backyard?” Cried another voice, this one belonged to my cousin Jasmine who like Isabella was dressed in a old fashion southern belle dress.

“Sister! In yonder ranks do I behold our fair cousin! Ash! Oh sweet gentle boy! Has now gone for a soldier in the army of Jefferson Davies! Cousin! Oh gentle boy!” Cried Isabella upon seeing me, she then rushed up and wrapped her arms around my sunburned neck and then she pulled me tight to her breast.

“Oh what a shame! That the youth of this country must give their life blood upon the altar of cotton, so the horrible institution of slavery must somehow exist. Is it not morally wrong to have men and women work from the first crow of the rooster to the setting of the sun for no wages? To hold them in such horrible bondage that even the peasants of Europe must think themselves blessed not to count among their number? Such shameful morals  this army of our husbands, brothers, uncles, sons, and nephews has been raised to defend all for that old God forsaken Jeffersn Davies.” Jasmine growned.

At this time all attention had been shifted away from the advancing column to the pair. And my father, who was quite annoyed for he hated the pair, because both were transgender and were living examples of how morally corrupt we'd become. But because they were 'In Character' if you will, he had to treat them as 'Ladies'. I'm sure if they were in their street clothes they would be molested and abused by him.

“Ladies.” My father said from atop is starving steed. “I ask you to clear out now, we are an army on the move. Please return now to your homes. You need not trouble yourselves with worry. For soon we shall smash the Federal army moving the north and this fair land will once more be free from the threat of war and enjoy the peace it's entailed to.” He then paused.

“For me and my band of brave men, all true hearted southerners will see to it that the conscripted hords of the Republican Government of Washington are smashed into a thousand tiny pieces and torn to pieces. One Southern Solider is worth ten of their conscripts.”

“You are a bastard sir!” Jasmine said. “Has not word already reached you that Vicksburg has fallen and that General Lee has been turned back at Gettysburg.” Jasmine shouted. “All you are doing is sending  our boys to die in a fruitless battle! All for your own personal glory! You sir, are a bastard!”

Dad took a deep breath and peered at Jasmine who planted her hands upon her hips and glared at him.

“Cousin.” Isabell said to me. “When you get into the Kingdom of Heaven this afternoon, please wait for me just beyond the gates. Along with my dearly departed mother, who has died from a broken heart because of this cruel war. And my darling father who fell in the opening shots. Send them all my love, all my kisses, and all my hugs.” Isabella then kissed my cheek.

“Go now.. I shall not keep you from thine appointed task! Farewell Cousin! I know in my heart I shall see you no more! Good-bye gentle boy! And a curse upon you Mr. Jefferson Davis, and you too General Lee and you too General Jackson who have taken from our heaths and from around our tables, our husbands, our brothers, our sons, our nephews, and our cousins!”

End Prologue.