James Myers. 1779. (Complete)

[Durandal!]

August 12, 1779.

 

He was only seventeen when he asked me to join the continental army. To dawn the blue and white coat that was only given to those brave enough to fight off the arm of a tyrant half a world away. He was only seventeen when he came back to me in pieces.

 

Nathaniel was his name. Some days I sit and remember not the day I gave that name to him, but the quiet whimper and the loud crash of cannon fire in the distance. The day the british army took Savannah, I could almost hear my son off in the distance. Musket fire mixed with cannons and the cries of men. Over the hills I could almost hear him. The slight limp in his left leg. I could imagine him standing in formation. Fighting just to keep still.

 

I let him enter that world. He begged for weeks. Rumor of the british marching south spurred the boy's interest beyond something a father could contain or persuade. Yet he grew in those two months more than I had in fifty years. I couldn't keep telling him no, knowing I would gladly fight for the same cause if I were able. I reluctantly granted my only living son the blessing to fight in my stead. A mantle I had no child to pass on to. Nor a wife to help conceive another to carry on my name. I made the decision to let him go. And I carry the blame for his death.

 

A sickly father caring for his dying son. God himself couldn't be asked for forgiveness for what I had done to him. I remember that day in November. Careful knocking. The smell of iron in the air. The heavy steps on the dry, wooden porch. I had no slaves to consider. I had no family to call on. I was the only one to answer the door to our tiny house. And as the door opened, all I could see was the look on my son's face. A captain at his side. And the space where his left arm once was. The space from his right ear to his left eye was wrapped in a blood stained cotton bandage. Yet he still carried little strength to call me father. I helped him to the only other bed we had. The captain called me aside and explained the casualties were high in Wilkes county. Nathaniel had volunteered to be moved from the medical tent in use there to come here. Less than an hour away.

 

He also told me I may want to keep him close during the coming night. The were able to close the wound, but he had lost a lot of blood. He would probably not make it through till morning.

 

Lord, I do not deserve to be in your graces. Nor do I think the devil himself would accept me. The breath in my lungs is that which should be with my son. I would have gone in his stead. I would have if I could. Though my son gave his life for something greater than himself or I, I gave up my son due to a weakness of character. I have only become weaker from this. This house echoes with the memories children taken from me before their time. In my days I have seen three of my own children and one loving wife taken from me. They are with you now. I trust they are in a better place. My punishment is the echo in this house. This purgatory. I wish they had taken Georgia one year ago. I would have been hung at the gallows for my beliefs. And I would have welcomed that a fine promotion from the echo in this tiny house. Confined to the same bed my son had died in. Forced to stare at the same ceiling he stare at as he took his last breath.

 

Lord, tell them I cared.

 

 

-James Myers.

1779

[Sasori]

Nice D!

 

That is really good, seems you did your research on this. Keep it up!

[DarthBrendo]

You've really sprung out with some gems in FF lately D. Keep up the good work. That was very personal. Very open. Read wel.

[Durandal!]

Thanks guys.

[NavyGal]

That was excellent Durandal. Nice work!

[Zero]

Very tragic. I like tragedies.

[Anakin T Skywalker]

Nice story, good concept, and good period style. Just a few grammar errors:

 

He was only seventeen when he asked me to join the continental army.

 

Did he ask the speaker (his father) to join the Continental Army? Or did he ask permission to join himself?

 

To dawn the blue and white coat

 

To don

 

And watch your capitalization.