Saturday, September 28, 2013

Sweet Saturday Samples - September 28, 2013

Welcome back to Sweet Saturday Samples.

During the American Civil War, brigade-level commanders often led from the front. As you can imagine, this led to an awful slaughter of leadership. This letter from Peter to his mother, Julia Owen, illustrates such a loss, when Col. Turner Ashby was killed in a skirmish on June 6, 1862.
~~~

Der Ma,

You may have herd of our misfortuneate encounter near Harisonburg the other day. We ar distrawt at the loss of Col. Ashby. Where will we find another leder of his dash and skill? The boys are very loe of mind at his passing, as am I. We do not know who will become our comander. Pray for us to get a good'un.

I will leave off whinin, altho I coud speak my grieef all the day.

I hope to be able to see you again next time we pass nearby. If not, I will wave my hand in fond greetin. Does Pa ever stop by?

How big is the Baby now? Do you see him or does the Hilbrands family keep you away from him? I recall Rulon wanted Mistress Mary to live with you at the farm. Will she be moving there, now that she has presented Rulon with an eir?

The fellows are hounding me to go over the hill with them, but I told them I'm too yung to risk getting diseased. Yore teachin has sunk deep into my heart, Ma, so I will forebear.

I must close now. We are told we will be riding tonight.

Affectionately,
Your son, Peter
~~~


I hope you enjoyed this sample from my work-in-progress, Gone For a Soldier, set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Sweet Saturday Samples - September 21, 2013

Welcome back to Sweet Saturday Samples.

In this tidbit from my work-in-progress, Gone For a Soldier, Mary Owen and her family are experiencing war on the home front in the Shenandoah Valley during the American Civil War:

~~~

Mary cowered in the cellar of the house, arms wrapped around her baby. Another shell whistled overhead and exploded in the distance. Ida shrieked in her ear, and Mary elbowed her sister in an attempt to quiet her. Sylvia and India huddled together. Mama sat in the corner, covering Baby Eliza with her shawl.

Poor Papa. He must be taking cover in the storeroom, Mary thought. She was glad the little girls had come home for dinner. She wondered how long the school would remain open. She shuddered at a boom that was too close at hand. God, help us, she begged. Help Rulon. She wasn't sure where he was now. She had lost track of all the different armies while these invaders were threatening her baby's life. God, please don't let them kill my baby.

Dust drifted down from the ceiling as a shell thudded into the ground nearby. Sylvia and India joined Ida's outcry, and now Roddy also raised his voice.

"Hush, hush," she said, trying to sooth him.

~~~

It must have been a hellish experience to live in that war zone. Have you ever had to deal with such an occurrence? I pray that I never have to live through such an event. I don't have a cellar!

Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please bookmark this site so you can find it again when you come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Sweet Saturday Samples - September 14, 2013

I apologize that this sample is late. I've been battling some health thingies, and they have sapped my strength, not to mention taken a lot of time out of my schedule for doctor visits.

Anyway, welcome back to Sweet Saturday Samples. In this tidbit from my work-in-progress, Gone For a Soldier, Mary Owen is nearing the end of her wait for Rulon's child to appear.
~~~

Mary sat at the dinner table at noon, more for appearances than to actually take nourishment. She was so large in the belly that the mere thought of trying to fit food in with the child gave her qualms of anxiety. When would this torture be over? She waddled when she walked. Her arched back ached. Every little occurrance irritated her. A great sense of heaviness lay upon her soul, and she had not heard from Rulon for longer than she cared to think about.

Since entering what Mama had called "confinement" a few weeks ago, she had naturally not been to church services. Mama had tried to bring Mr. Moore around, but Mary refused to see him, begging off with so much force that her mother had given up trying to persuade her that she must needs prepare her immortal soul for her coming journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. She could scarcely stand to be in the company of family members, and entertaining visitors was more than she could support. Her only desire was to build a cozy nest in her bedroom and retreat into it.

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this sample from Gone For a Soldier, set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!

Saturday, September 07, 2013

Sweet Saturday Samples - September 7, 2013

Welcome back to Sweet Saturday Samples. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen difficulties, the list and link to it will not be available for a while. I hope our hostess soon gets to a place where she can do it again. I will continue to provide a sample each Saturday.

In this sample, Ben Owen has been battling with the Yankees up and down the Shenandoah Valley under General Early's command. He has just been wounded.
~~~

Why is it always my leg? he thought, fighting to reach something to tie around the wound. This wasn't the inconsequential leg injury he had suffered before. This one was bleeding to beat the band, and he had to stop it.

He found his belt would do to wrap around the leg above the flow. Now he had to get out of the field before the Yankees renewed their attack, pressed forward, and captured him.


He struggled to his feet, bearing his weight upon his musket. The leg was not broken, he was relieved to discover. He looked around him. A body or two lay in the field below, but the losses weren't great this time. His company had left him, it appeared, as he was the only one of his fellows still here.


Hunched over, he dragged his unresponsive leg and the rest of himself toward a hill covered with broken apple trees. Not the best cover, but perhaps it would serve until he located his company or someone who could take him to a surgeon to stitch him up. Once he achieved the shelter of the trees, he would allow himself to rest and survey the ground.


Fortunately, the rails of the fence surrounding the orchard were missing, so he didn't have to make a struggle to climb over. He found a spot high on the side of the hill where he could keep watch for anyone passing, and sat down with his back against a trunk. He promptly fell asleep.


Night came before he awoke. He could see campfires of the Federal troops off in the north, but the hill impeded his sight to the south. How far could the company have retreated before it stopped to regroup?


He checked his leg. The bleeding seemed to have ceased, and he loosened the belt so the flesh would not die. Good. The wound was crusted over, and the flow of blood did not seem to begin anew.


Where was he? He couldn't be far from Mount Jackson, or maybe his own home, but in the darkness, he had lost track of his precise location. Who still had an apple orchard that hadn't been entirely cut down for fuel?

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this sample from my work-in-progress, Gone For a Soldier, set during the American Civil War. Thank you for visiting. I love to read your comments, so if anything in the sample compels you to speak up, rest assured that I eventually read what you write and will reply, if needed. Questions? I'm open to them, too.

Please come back next Saturday for another sample. Thank you!
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