Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter

-4-
What is the price to pay? Hell the prince to pay!

According to the history books, the rag-tag, half starved, shoeless Confederate militia force that had been mustered or summoned to defend the town of Blue Bayou, seeing that they were indeed outnumbered, and out gunned. Surrounded on and at sea, as the Union navy had sailed a quadron of ironclad battleships into Lake Pontchartrain and had firmly fixed their brass twelve pound naval cannons on the tiny force, they wanted to strike the white flag and march out and surround their arms.

But their commander had other plans. Instead of doing the most logical thing, that is sparing the lives of his men and sparing the the town he in all his military wisdom decided that his rag-tag band would make one final charge on the Federal Forces and with their undefeatable southern pride and spirits they would drive the Federal army away from their shores and back to far away Washington. And as expected the Federal forces formed into ranks, and blasted away at them for twenty solid minutes. By the timea stiff breeze had blown away the smoke from the battlefield it was clear the charge had been a waste of men. For six hundred and seventy Confederate soldiers lay dead or dying on the field. The remaining one hundred and twenty or so were so scared and shocked out of their minds that they quickly tossed their muskets down upon the ground and pushed their hands high into the air.

Later that evening the UnionNavy floating by Blue Bayou would shell the town till it was nothing more than a skeleton of burned out houses and shops. It in effect became a burned out wasteland. All because of some misguided action of the town's guard. Who according to legend had opened fire upon the squadron of floating warships. The cannon in question had been an old relic that had been left over from the war of eighteen twelve.

And that is why, early on the morning of the second day, I found myself standing in the front ranks, shoeless, capless, dying of thirst, wanting food and feeling a fever coming over me. I think I'd caught something from the raw salted pork I'd been given as rations. Because every five minutes I found myself having to squat down in some bushes and relieve myself. It was not solid, but a torrent stream of brownish water with what looked like hunks of half melted chocolate bars mixed in. This was often followed by a fever and the urge to vomit.

We were standing on the south north side of a field. The field was covered in sawgrass that reached up to a man's waist, the stalks of grass swaying in the field caught by some remote breeze. Cattails as tall as a man could be seen growing in patches. Dragon flies with their clear, almost plastic like wings darted from one end to the other. I knew it would hell crossing that field.

And on the other side waiting for us in the morning more dew was a long phalanx of Federal soldiers, all dressed in dark blue tunics and light blue trousers. The rays of the early morning sun caught their highly polished brass buttons and they all looked well fed, healthy and eager for the coming struggle.

Then my dad rode out in front, he trotted up and down the line until he stopped in the center of our formation. He then wheeled his mount around and then facing us he called out in a loud clear voice.

“Gentleman of the South.” He began. “It has been a pleasure to lead you fine men into battle. Through our valor, and strength of arms we have delayed the Federal Army. Though, I am ashamed to say it, we can not carry the day by valor alone. We are indeed outnumbered, the rumors of the navy sailing into the gulf behind us is true. This shall be our last battle together. I'm sorry I could only feed you men, corn meal, raw salted pork and a bit of tack.”

At that moment I found myself wishing to empty my bowels again. But since I was standing in formation, I was forced to do so standing. I whimpered as I felt the seat of my trousers expand and felt the warm liquid run down my pants leg.

“This is to our last stand.” Dad said building a fine head of steam as he carried on with little speech. “This morning we stand among the living, this evening we shall dine in Hades. I want to remind you of the famous Battle of Thermopylae. Were three hundred spartan warriors under the command of their good king, Leonidas, defeated some twenty thousand of the best warriors of the persian king Xerxes. And though they were killed to a man, they by their heroic sacrifice won fame for their little citystate and found themselves forever enshrined in the annals of history. The bard still sings of their heroic deeds to this very day!”

I took a deep breath and shivered again as I peered across the field.

“Now, gentleman.. do your duty to your god, to your native state and to beloved Dixie.” He said as he reached down to his side and quickly he pulled out his sword. He thrusted the sword into the air and then at the top of his lungs he shoulder.

“Battalion! Attention.” He bellowed.

We all snapped to attention.

“Battalion! Fix Bayonets!” He bellowed again.

I fumbled with my bayonet for several long seconds before I finally managed to get it locked into place. Again my bowls decided to purge themselves and again I felt myself go weak in the knees as the seat of my trousers expanded and another stream ran down my legs. The urge to vomit was greater this time around. And then before I could catch myself I found myself throwing my head down and from my throat came a swelling wave of yellowish liquid. It spilled down upon the ground, my head started to spin as I looked down and noticed pink pieces of pork floating around in a greasy sea.

“Battalion! Make ready!” Dad bellowed again.

Stumbling, I raised my musket and tried my best to focus on what was in front of me.

“Battalion..” Dad paused. “Will advance to the rolling of the dum. Give them hell boys! And remember the Federal boys hate the cold steel, so you must give them the cold steel. Drive them back to washington.” And with that he wheeled his mount around and started to trote toward the Federal forces.

And then we started to advance across the first and once more history repeated itself. Like the Confederate forces on the third day of the Battle of Gettysburg we were mowed down. The Federal army, dug in snuggly behind a crumbling stone wall, poured volley after volley fire on us. Some fellows fell down, the colors dipped, and somebody rushed to pick them up. The field became clouded with white smoke. I dipped down because I felt a sharp pain in my left foot and my leg seemed to give out. I looked down to see what was the matter and then I noticed to my horror that coiled my leg was a gray diamondback rattlesnake. A moment later I screamed out again this time in both pain and horror and the snake slunk away.

“My God!” Help me,” I bellowed as I forced myself to stand up. I was then shoved back down to the ground.

“Carry through with the attack soldier!” A big buff man yelled as he reached down and picked my musket up off the ground. He pushed the musket into my trembling hand. At this point I could see two red bite marks forming on my ankle, my head felt it was on fire and my whole body felt lik it was made of lead. And well I carried on, because I knew my best chance of getting out alive was surrendering. I limbed toward the Federal lines, at this point the tide of gray had fissled out and people were rushing away, retreating. But once I was within sight of the Federal line I called out.

“I surrender! I surrender!” I called out as I dropped my musket down upon the ground. I then raised my hands high into the air and a pleading tone of voice I called out. “For the Love of God gentleman I surrender! I need help, I've been bitten!”

A sudden silence fell all alone the line. All faces turned toward me. And then from the ranks of blue, a blue clad Federal boy came out. He eased toward me, the first he did though was to sling his musket over his shoulder and then he took mine. And then he ushered me behind their lines. Once I was safely behind their lines, he walked me to a nearby log and eased me down. As far as I was concerned the war was over for me.

“Are you okay Jonny?”A man in a blue uniform asked as he walked out from a nearby tent. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and he looked like a doctor. His eyes zoomed in to mine.

“My name is not 'Jonny' , it is Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman.” My breath was hard now, and I could feel myself starting to break out in an ice, cold sweat. I turned my head over to the side and I vomited once more, another stream of yellow fluid with chunks of pink, salted pork floating around. I then wrapped my arms around me and I could feel myself starting to shiver.

“I don't to die here.. I'm too young to die.

The man looked at me for a solid thirty seconds. “Okay Ashley.. My name is Ben Husk, and I'm a doctor.” He said as he walked over and knelt down on the ground beside. “And you're not going to die today, not if I can help. He then looked down at my foot that was swelling to the size of a watermelon.”

“What happened?” He asked as he looked at my foot.

“Got bit by a diamondback..” I muttered.

His face went gray.

“And why are you here and not in an ambulance young lady?

“My daddy don't want to break the scene.” I muttered.

At this the man reached up, took his hat from his head and slapped his knee with it. He then looked into the heavens and took a deep breath and muttered something under his breath.

“Somebody call me an ambulance! Somebody get hold of the hospital! Stop the shooting, we need to get this young lady to the hospital!”

“Please don't call my daddy.” I want to say 'Dad' but I thought a young lady would mutter 'daddy'. “He would just tell me to walk it off.” As weak as I felt I reached up and wrapped my fingers around Ben Husk's shoulder. “Don't call my daddy, there are some personal numbers in my tunic. Call one of them. And if something happens to me, tell my mommy I loved her.” I was pleading with him, almost begging him at this point tears started to roll down my sunburned cheeks and clear away some of the dust. “Please tell my mommy I loved her.” my world started to go blurry.

At this point I found myself surrounded by a few women, all wore period dresses, all seemed fawning over me. One even lifted my head and placed a old pillow under me.

“Let's get her out of that tunic.” A woman to my right said to me, “Poor dear is burning up, get out of those woolen trousers too, it's too hot for all of this. Oh dear lord.. the child has soiled herself.”

“What monster would put a child through this?” Another woman said as she covered her mouth. “I have never seen such a sight! She should be at home in bed, not here, not in uniform.”

“The smell.. She needs a bath.. Poor dear she has soiled herself from the bottom down, these clothes are ruined and need to be washed or burned.. and her face, it is so hollow. Her skin is so dry. Her cheeks are so red. She looks like she is going to die.” Another woman muttered. And soon I found myself dressed in nothing but an undershirt. My uniform was stripped from me along with my underwear.

“Do any of you ladies have anything to spare? To save her modesty of course.” Ben Husk said as he looked over. He was talking to a young man who appeared around my age.

“I have some bits and pieces.” Another woman said. “Move her to one of the tents and we'll do our best to get her cleaned up.”

“Dear..” The same woman before said. “When was the last time you had anything to drink?”

“Since yesterday, we don't have water fit to drink in camp.” I muttered.

“Don't give her anything to drink.. I'm sorry, but until we get you seen about we need to avoid giving you water. I got hold of an ambulance. It should be here in a few minutes, we're going to need to carry you to the pick-up point. It's two miles to our rear..”

At that point I was sure I was going to die. And amidst the sea of faces that surrounded me I saw a man who was dressed up as a priest. I reached out my hand and called out to him.

“FATHER! FORGIVE ME FOR I HAVE SINNED!”

The priest blinked and walked toward me, he kneeled down and took my hand into his hand. I then started to babble. I felt surely I was going to die and that if I was going to die I should at least be given the last rites of the church.

The priest listened and then placed his hands upon my forehead and muttered a prayer and then he made the sign of the cross above my face. As I watched him make the sign of the cross I felt myself give away again. The woman shivered as they held their noses. My day had gone from bad to worst.