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Since we write so often on this forum, lets produce a novelette of the war.
Let's see if you can write as well as you critique. A compilation.
My character is Pvt. Edward McMillan a fictional Georgia soldier of Co. A. Limit your contribution to the story at 500 words or less. Base your contributions on known facts of the war, no silliness. Edward must survive as a old man all the way to 1902, however you can add or kill any other characters. Kind of a folk story, like Beowulf. Story starts at Petersburg, VA in July, 1864, you can flash forward or back. You must allow for other contributors before reposting, one per day. Use you imagination and feeling, use some of your first person experiences go light on the technical stuff. AC keeps the rights. Use another thread to critique or advise.
"Edward! Edward! Come into the house son! dinner's almost ready, holler for your brother he's down by the creek. Tell him that chicken and dumplings and blackberry pie are on the table!"
Ed woke up startled, the dreams became so real that he almost dreaded sleep. He went to bed hungry and woke up hungry. He dreamed of home and he dreamed of food. Where was Albert? Killed at Gettysburg last year, along with most of the men from Jefferson County. Ed missed his younger brother and he remained with the Army as long as there was fight in him and blood to avenge, although he still yearned for home.
The front was quite at night, rarely would a Yankee sharpshooter waste ammunition in the darkness so he felt better at moving about. The war wasn't supposed to go on this long. "Over in ninety days are less", the old Colonel had said at the recruiting station. The boys from Jefferson County were worried that they would miss all of the action. Three years of constant war had now made him an old man at the age of twenty-two.
He felt like an old man after he rose from his blanket and knapsack. He had to relieve himself, but he didn't want the Corporal of the guard to see him or he would be up the rest of the night on duty. The fancy red trimmed jacket that was issued to him last month was a better fit than his old Georgia issued jacket that was torn and re-sewed a hundred times. It didn't match his old hat or his mud stained trousers. He had a new jacket, but the rations were still spotty and insufficient
After relieving himself in a nearby drainage ditch, he gazed upon the Milky Way and the clear summer night sky. It was a new moon and the stars shown like a million diamonds.
"Couldn't get no sleep Ed?"
Ed turned and looked upon the broken teeth, grubby face and gaunt build of Gilbert. Gilbert rarley slept except after a battle or a pint of whiskey. Neither of which they had seen lately. He was the company wag and constantly awake in fear that he might miss something, but mostly just in fear.
"Nah Gilbert, no man can sleep like this, I feel uneasy, lets head to the magazine if we are going to converse, lest Corporal Matthews sees us up and moving about."
Gilbert had connections and always seemed moderately supplied and often traded with the Union pickets. Ed was scheming for a cracker or a piece of sweet potato. A lot of eating was done covertly, so as to avoid sharing. Gil would share, all you had to do was listen to his rambling.
"Billy Yank has been awful quite these last two days, they haven't came up to the line for any trading here lately. I wonder what they're up to?"
The magazine was filled with artillery ammunition, so they wouldn't smoke, though often fools would. Ed stared at Gilberts haversack with interest.
"Want to give me some pay-day credit for a bite of a cracker Gil?"
"Here have a piece on me." Gilbert handed Ed a small 1 inch sqaure of Union hardtack. Ed carefully brought the piece too his mouth and slowly began to nibble on the cracker as his mouth watered freely. Ed knew that he would have to listen to Gilbert for at least one hour in payment.
"They never seem to run out of them Nothern fellars and it's quite rare to find one that speaks English nowadays. The ones that do speak English are always shouting and teasing us about food. I wish General Lee could get some more reinforcements so that we could drive them back to Washington like we did in '61."
Ed thought back on what seemed like a hundred years, Manassas, our first victory. The long lines of volunteers, the gaudy uniforms and eagerness for war. It seemed more like a county fair than the preparations for battle during the time. We were so fat and saucy then. Albert his seventeen year old brother was so proud in his crisp new Georgia uniform. The first train ride out of the state and their first trip from home, the Virginia girls blew them kisses and folks cheered as they marched by. Being a soldier was the best thing that ever happened to the common laborers, clerks and farm boys of Jefferson County back then.
Now he stared at the dark mud of the Petersburg trenches as the hard cracker went down to his growling stomach. The civilians rarely cheered anymore, nor did they visit the trenches outside of the embattled city. War ceased being glamorous. Albert was still gone, why?
Gilbert gabbed on about camp gossip and the latest desertions, Ed feinted listening and often nodded his head. The evening sky changed from indigo to a deep purple. Ed thought of home and his mother. "I wonder how things are in Georgia" he muttered under Gil's endless chatter.
Let's see if you can write as well as you critique. A compilation.
My character is Pvt. Edward McMillan a fictional Georgia soldier of Co. A. Limit your contribution to the story at 500 words or less. Base your contributions on known facts of the war, no silliness. Edward must survive as a old man all the way to 1902, however you can add or kill any other characters. Kind of a folk story, like Beowulf. Story starts at Petersburg, VA in July, 1864, you can flash forward or back. You must allow for other contributors before reposting, one per day. Use you imagination and feeling, use some of your first person experiences go light on the technical stuff. AC keeps the rights. Use another thread to critique or advise.
"Edward! Edward! Come into the house son! dinner's almost ready, holler for your brother he's down by the creek. Tell him that chicken and dumplings and blackberry pie are on the table!"
Ed woke up startled, the dreams became so real that he almost dreaded sleep. He went to bed hungry and woke up hungry. He dreamed of home and he dreamed of food. Where was Albert? Killed at Gettysburg last year, along with most of the men from Jefferson County. Ed missed his younger brother and he remained with the Army as long as there was fight in him and blood to avenge, although he still yearned for home.
The front was quite at night, rarely would a Yankee sharpshooter waste ammunition in the darkness so he felt better at moving about. The war wasn't supposed to go on this long. "Over in ninety days are less", the old Colonel had said at the recruiting station. The boys from Jefferson County were worried that they would miss all of the action. Three years of constant war had now made him an old man at the age of twenty-two.
He felt like an old man after he rose from his blanket and knapsack. He had to relieve himself, but he didn't want the Corporal of the guard to see him or he would be up the rest of the night on duty. The fancy red trimmed jacket that was issued to him last month was a better fit than his old Georgia issued jacket that was torn and re-sewed a hundred times. It didn't match his old hat or his mud stained trousers. He had a new jacket, but the rations were still spotty and insufficient
After relieving himself in a nearby drainage ditch, he gazed upon the Milky Way and the clear summer night sky. It was a new moon and the stars shown like a million diamonds.
"Couldn't get no sleep Ed?"
Ed turned and looked upon the broken teeth, grubby face and gaunt build of Gilbert. Gilbert rarley slept except after a battle or a pint of whiskey. Neither of which they had seen lately. He was the company wag and constantly awake in fear that he might miss something, but mostly just in fear.
"Nah Gilbert, no man can sleep like this, I feel uneasy, lets head to the magazine if we are going to converse, lest Corporal Matthews sees us up and moving about."
Gilbert had connections and always seemed moderately supplied and often traded with the Union pickets. Ed was scheming for a cracker or a piece of sweet potato. A lot of eating was done covertly, so as to avoid sharing. Gil would share, all you had to do was listen to his rambling.
"Billy Yank has been awful quite these last two days, they haven't came up to the line for any trading here lately. I wonder what they're up to?"
The magazine was filled with artillery ammunition, so they wouldn't smoke, though often fools would. Ed stared at Gilberts haversack with interest.
"Want to give me some pay-day credit for a bite of a cracker Gil?"
"Here have a piece on me." Gilbert handed Ed a small 1 inch sqaure of Union hardtack. Ed carefully brought the piece too his mouth and slowly began to nibble on the cracker as his mouth watered freely. Ed knew that he would have to listen to Gilbert for at least one hour in payment.
"They never seem to run out of them Nothern fellars and it's quite rare to find one that speaks English nowadays. The ones that do speak English are always shouting and teasing us about food. I wish General Lee could get some more reinforcements so that we could drive them back to Washington like we did in '61."
Ed thought back on what seemed like a hundred years, Manassas, our first victory. The long lines of volunteers, the gaudy uniforms and eagerness for war. It seemed more like a county fair than the preparations for battle during the time. We were so fat and saucy then. Albert his seventeen year old brother was so proud in his crisp new Georgia uniform. The first train ride out of the state and their first trip from home, the Virginia girls blew them kisses and folks cheered as they marched by. Being a soldier was the best thing that ever happened to the common laborers, clerks and farm boys of Jefferson County back then.
Now he stared at the dark mud of the Petersburg trenches as the hard cracker went down to his growling stomach. The civilians rarely cheered anymore, nor did they visit the trenches outside of the embattled city. War ceased being glamorous. Albert was still gone, why?
Gilbert gabbed on about camp gossip and the latest desertions, Ed feinted listening and often nodded his head. The evening sky changed from indigo to a deep purple. Ed thought of home and his mother. "I wonder how things are in Georgia" he muttered under Gil's endless chatter.