Diary of a Confederate Scout

By:Carson Carruthers


This is the first entry into this diary. Although it is not really a diary with a lock and key, these entries do tell what is going on and a history of what has been. I may want to read this account later in life. That sounds so strange when I fear that these sixteen years I have already lived may be all of my life. With the carnage I witness everyday or so, I have begun to feel that I am a very old man. There are days like the past two when I prove that not only am I alive but young and ready. I had just bought this ledger in the General Store in the quaint little town of Gettysburg and was on my way southeast of town on the pike road when I encountered my first troop of Yankee soldiers. I ran off the road and into a copse of trees where I lay on my stomach watching them pass. I counted horses rather than men since this obviously was a cavalry unit. From what I had learned in town, this must be a patrol of some sort and headed in the wrong direction. What am I doing out in a field counting horses? I am the lowest of the low. I am a Rebel spy. I prefer to call myself a scout, but a spy is really what I am. I can pass for a Yankee. In fact I have paper to prove that I am a Yankee. As far as looks, Yankees do not look much different that Southerners. I obviously am pretty good at it since I have this book. The only reason I am hiding is that anytime you encounter the military there are just too damned many questions to answer. What I fear most is meeting someone from Cincinnati, Ohio. I have never been there and if they asked questions about where I lived I could not tell them. It is the one weak spot in my entire spy identity. I chose Cincinnati because if is on the border, and if anyone detected a little of my southern accent that would explain it. I never talk with a Southern accent any more. I feel cheap denying who I really am.

Well, since I have to lie here for a while longer, I might as well write about who I am. I have already stated that I am a spy, so I might as well state my name. Anyone who catches me and reads this is going to know I am not who the papers say in the first place. My name is Jared Adam McCarter, and my family is the South Carolina McCarter clan. We had a lot of land and a good many slaves. I grew up in a two-story farmhouse with a porch running around three sides. The rooms were big and tall so the air could circulate. It was not a mansion. I have heard how these Yankees talk about us all living in mansions and having slaves to wait on us hand and foot. That may happen somewhere, but it did not happen on our plantation. My father, Andrew McCarter, was not a man to lie around and have people wait on him. He was up early and made sure that everyone else was up early. I guess I got special treatment with being a motherless child. I do not remember my mother. She died just after I was born. Any time anyone refers to her, they mention that she was delicate. My father and the slaves took care of me. There was not one slave that took care of me more than any other. I have heard people say that they had a black woman for a mammy. That was not true with me. Whoever was there took care of me. I liked all of them taking care of me, too. As I said I got special treatment in that I did not have to get up when my father did although I did hear him and woke up anyway. It was not until I turned five that my life changed in any manner.

When I was five I got my first tutor. Awful. His name was Ralph Stevenson. Master Stevenson was probably in his early thirties, scrawny, had a huge Adam's apple that could hypnotize you while he droned on and on, a hawk bill nose and was ugly. He was a firm believer in spare the rod and spoil the child. He did one useful thing he taught me how to read. He was there for almost three years. I was just over eight years old when I figured how to be rid of him. We were at dinner one evening. There were just the three of us. I sat squirming in my chair as Master Stevenson droned on about something political. My father was not truly paying attention to him. I asked rather loudly if I might be excused. I knew that my father would ask me why. You always sat at the table until he decided to excuse you.

"I have to get my clothes off...."

"Why? Why do you have to undress? It is not time for bed."

"I know father, but I want to get undress so that Master Stevens can play with my peepee."

You could have heard a pin drop. Master Stevenson Adam's apple was doing a dance. My father's face was florid.

"What did you say?" He screamed at me.

"I said I want to get my clothes off so that Master Stevenson can play with my peepee. I like it. It feels soooo good."

"Go to your room."

"You, you had best get your goods pack and be out of here within the hour."

Something that I planned had actually worked. Stevenson left. As I watched his carriage pull away, I thought that he would probably have liked to play around with me. He is the one that had told me that boys should not do that sort of thing once when he had caught me rubbing my cock. That was what gave me the idea. If it were wrong for me then it must really be wrong for him to do it to me. He was ugly, and he was gone. I had learned to read. I had also learned that I liked rubbing my cock. It was called masturbation or self abuse. Whatever you called it. I liked it. To be honest, I still do.

It must be noon. I hear another troop of cavalry headed toward Gettysburg. I thought that I heard some gunfire toward that way, but I cannot image that our forces have gotten anywhere near here as of yet. I wish I had more water. I am sweating. I just took off my shirt and am lying here in the grass bare-chested. It feels good. I guess that July 1st is hot no matter where you are. It really is the middle of the summer. There seems to be some real activity on the pike road. Looks like a dispatch rider headed south toward the enemy's line. I probably should try to get this information back to camp. If I just knew where camp was. I was told to gather information and return to Gettysburg with it on the Fourth of July. I do not think that I should wait that long, but the forces are not due there until then.

I might as well tell the rest of my life's story since I am not going anywhere for a while. I surely cannot go father toward the enemy lines since there is so much traffic on the road this afternoon. There goes another carriage. Looks like there are several important people in that one. They are headed southeast. Let's see. I had gotten rid of Stevenson. That was when the most beautiful man in the world came into my life. If Stevenson was the ugliest, then Peter Purcell was the prettiest. It was three weeks before the new tutor arrived from Charleston. Master Purcell. He was only just graduated from the College of Charleston and was absolutely beautiful. I was only eight, and he was the age that I am now. Twice as old as I. There was nothing that I would not do for him. He had long delicate finger. Silken blond hair that hung in ringlets to his shoulders. His face was fair, and his body was delicate. Since I have started to relate this I think that Master Purcell deserves his own paragraph at least so in my life.

The day that Purcell came to The Cedars, which was the name of our plantation because of the huge cedars that grew along the driveway up to the main house. He came in his own buggy with his own horse. He was not from an impoverished family, but a family where he had four older brothers and there would be little left for him when they had devoured whatever inheritance there might be. He said that early on he had decided that an education would be about all that he could expect from his family. That and a good horse. He had gotten the education, and when he had completed his course at the College his brothers gave him a good horse and wished him well. I have to say that I was in love the moment that he stepped down from his buggy and handed the reins to the groom standing there. I did not want to appear too anxious, so I stood inside the big door waiting for him to come up on the porch before going out to look at him closely.

"Good day, sir," he said bowing rather lowly for an adult to a mere child.

"Good day to you," I replied.

"I am Master Purcell, and you must be Jared."

"Glad to meet you," I was amazed at the poise with which I was showing since my heart was beating a thousand miles a moment and I could feel the sweat forming on my upper lip.

"Is your father home?"

"Not at the moment, but he will be back soon. He told me to expect you. He said that I should have you shown to your room. "Tom, get the bags, please." Even as a child I was nice to the slaves. I though how little it was to say please even then to get them to do something for you without their cursing under their breathe. I had seen how other people treated their slaves. My father would never stand for it. He always said that had we not escaped the English we would have been no better. I really am rambling in this narrative, but you should know that my grandfather was a McGregor and had escaped from Scotland after the British had won the battle. "Aye, but nae the war." I can still hear him saying that in my own imagination. He was huge. Red hair. Freckles. And could drink ten men under - whatever that meant. My father and his brothers were much like him. I on the other hand look like them but with the rough edges smoothed out. My father says that in many ways I am fragile like my mother. My hair is strawberry blond instead of red. I am thinner that robust like the others in the family and actually a bit taller even than my cousin, Elihu.

Anyway now you are beginning to know something of how I look I might as well finish. I have really fair skin and have to protect it from the sun like a girl would. I usually burn and eventually turn brown in the summer. I seem to go through that every year. Then I have freckles, but they are only across my nose. None anywhere else. Elihu has red hair also, but he has freckles even on his butt. I do know, and I have seen his butt naked many times. It is really muscular which makes it funny since it is covered with freckles. I wonder if his fellow messmates have seen it yet. They are all probably laughing at him for being so manly and having freckles on his butt. My eyes are blue. Let's just leave it at that. I keep wandering off of my story. I think the reason is that it makes me happy to be thinking about these things - home, Master Purcell, Elihu, my swing under the oak tree. Here in all this heat with the Yankee blue coats marching down the pike towards the little town of Gettysburg, me sitting here counting how many in which troop and writing it down to take back to head quarters tonight, thinking about home is about the only nice thing there is.

Back to Purcell. I had decided that he would probably be another version of the last tutor so had the room at the far end of the hall made up for him. When I saw that he was not like the other, I wanted him neared to me. I got Tom aside and told him to make the change so that Purcell was in the bedroom next to mine. There was a door between the two, which normally remained shut at least from my side. I took Purcell into the parlor, which was really uncomfortable. Finally, I said, " How would you like to see the rest of the house? That way you will be able to find your way around."

"That would be nice, Master Jared."

"Please, I think that you and I can be friends just call me Jared. Even in front of the servants." There were people who you called one thing in private and another in front of servants, so I wanted him to know right off where he stood with me.

"Thank you. I do hope that we can be friends." He patted me on the shoulder. It was like electricity went through my entire body. I had never had a crush on anyone before, and I was sure that I was the only one in the world who could feel the intensity of being in love with someone so beautiful. Even now, eight years later, I think I would see him as beautiful. He would be too fragile for me. Even Elihu would be too fragile for me now. I like a rougher sort of man with lots of beard and hair on his chest. Again I am getting ahead of the story.

That evening my father returned. He told Peter, that was the first time that I knew his first name, that he had fired the previous tutor for corrupting my morals. I thought that this was really funny since I had actually done nothing to the tutor or he to me. He could not deny that he had tried to play with my prick. Now I was sorry. I should have gotten rid of him in some other manner since I really wanted to seduce Peter Purcell. What a lovely name. After dinner, we sat on the veranda. I listened while my father and Peter discussed politics. They were talking even then about States Rights. When time came we went to bed. I lay there with my prick like stone. It was sticking straight up. It had been all night. I had learned to play with it from one of the slave boys. I thought about going to find him so that he could put it in his mouth and suck on it like he had done before. A slave boy was not what I wanted. I wanted to be the one sucking, and the prick was lying under the linens in the room next door. I lay there playing with myself. Suddenly, it started lightening and thundering. I thought to myself that God must really love me. Here was my excuse. The storm was violent. I opened the door from my room to Peter's and ran and jumped into bed with him. I had not put on any clothes, and he too had been lying there naked. I grabbed on to him making sure that my hard cock was pushing against him and that his was trapped between our bodies. It was hard. He must have been lying there playing with himself as I had been.

"Whoa. What's the matter?" He asked hugging me to him.

"I... I'm... I'm scared." I was sobbing. I really should have been an actor on stage.

"Now. Now. I kept twisting in his embrace to make sure that his prick stayed hard between us. I think that he finally realized that he was being taken advantage of on some level. He pushed me away from him.

"You need to go put on your night clothes, at least, if you are going to be in my room. Your father will be letting me go before I get started."

"No, he won't. I would not let him. You are not ugly like the last tutor. Your are beautiful." I took his member in my hand. To me it was beautiful. It was at least six inches and the skin was pushed back behind the rim of a tremendous mushroom head. I rubbed it and started to stroke it. I could feel it becoming even harder. I heard Peter breathing even deeper and raspier. I knew from my limited experiences that men, not boys, shot cream out of their pricks. I knew all about screwing to make babies, after all there were lots of animals and the slaves, which we bred to reproduce. Peter tried once more to stop me by pushing my hand away. I let him. While he was doing that I lowered my head and took his member into my mouth and started nursing. This was the first cock that I had ever sucked. I knew that I had to do it right. I improvised. I bobbed up and down on it. I used my tongue on it. I kept my teeth out of the way and then would drag them slowly up his shaft to the edge of his head. I put my tongue in the slit where the piss came out. There was no more resistance. Peter was lying back on the bed. I had pushed my body between his legs. I looked up with his cock in my mouth. He was resting on his elbows looking down at me. Even in the dark his blue eyes were twinkling. He threw his head back with his mouth open and unloaded his man seed into my mouth. I swallowed. It was not so much that I could not take it all. I continued sucking it. He grabbed my head and pulled it from his cock.

"Don't. It is so sensitive that it hurts. It is too painful to continue." Then he let me go and lay back on his bed. I took his cock in my hand and pulled the skin back over the head making sure that I had squeezed ever drop of cum that I could from it. All this time I had been humping the mattress tick which was filled with duck's down. My own prick was hot and red. I grabbed it and, lying there between his legs, I stroked it at a pace that was amazingly fast. Suddenly, it felt as though I were going to piss, but I could not stop. I kept flogging my cock. Then the most intense, wonderful thing happened. My toes curled. My back arched. My hand was still flying over my cock. My mouth flew open, and I had an orgasm. It was dry. I was only eight years old, but I have never had anything that was that shattering before or since. By this time Peter had recovered from his first blowjob. He realized what had happened to me. He took me in his arms and hugged me to his hairless chest as I came down from a splendid place suspended in space. I raised my face to him, and he kissed me.

"No one will ever know," I whispered. "Just make sure that you put the lock on your door at night. Everyone has forgotten that there is a door between our rooms. I will come to you. I know the sounds of the house and when I am sure that it is safe I will come to you."

"How did you get so smart and so wise?"

"Believe me it was not from the other tutor. I told you he was ugly."

Peter laughed at my description of the former tutor. The entire time that we had been talking I had been fondling his prick. Eventually, it had come back to life, as it does not take long for sixteen year olds to recover. He put his hand on the back of my head and guided my mouth again to his cock.

After that night, Peter and I studied in the daytime. We read everything that was in my father's library. We read all of the novels as they came out by Sir Walter Scott. There were people in those books that my grandfather had mentioned in his conversations. We both enjoyed reading history both ancient and modern. We got catalogs from books stores in Charleston, London and Richmond. He taught me to speak French. He and I would go for weeks without speaking English. Then we did the same with German. He knew best Latin. We did not talk it. But we read it. That is when we discovered Catullus. He was one of the Latin authors that Peter ordered from London. We were translating it when we realized that the poet was talking about another male. It had to have been the fastest translation of a Latin poet ever. Peter told my father that he needed more books from London for my studies. Father approved it, and we went through all the Latin poets looking for more male love. I will say that although I did not like mathematics as much as writing essays and translating Latin poets Peter made me learn to do the work. I was as proficient in those areas as I was in anything else before the end of the second year that he was with us.

It was 1859. Peter Purcell went home to visit his brothers in the spring. He never returned. He was supposed to go to Charleston and then by packet to Beaufort that was near his brother's plantation. He was supposed to have returned within the month. My father sent inquiries to Peter's brothers. They had not seen him. Then two months later a letter arrived addressed to me. I recognized the script immediately. It was from Peter and the stamps were English. Was this a ransom note? I had been really distressed over Peter's not returning. I took the letter to my room. He apologized for now writing sooner. He thanked me for all that I had taught him. That is when I figured out what had happened. He said that he had met a man on the packet to Beaufort. Peter had taught the man some of the things that I had taught him. I knew that he was talking between the lines about sucking cock and taking a cock in your ass. It was sort of like reading Catullus. I did not just come out and say it incase someone else read it. To make a long story short. Peter had gone on to Savannah with the man and then to England. The man had lots of money and was a Lord in Britain. I could tell Peter loved him. Peter said that if I came to England that I should plan to stay with them at his friend's castle. He was acting as his friend's secretary that way no one was the wiser. A lot of it was written in Latin. Peter knew that my father could not read it. I cried. The next day when my father returned from his visit to his brother's plantation, I knew that I could only tell my father that Peter had been offered a job on the way to Beaufort and was now the secretary to Lord Dumfries and living in England. He had written as soon as his position was secure, and he had an address.

I just awoke. It is dangerous to fall asleep even at night must less in the daylight. I am well hidden here behind the hedges, but it would have been embarrassing to have been found out. I went to sleep with my cock hard thinking about Peter and woke up with an equally hard cock. I have to do something about it. I always have preferred someone else, even a slave boy, taking care of my many hard pricks as they occur, but since there is no one here I assume that it is necessary to do it myself. I undid the buttons on my trousers and reached through my drawers to loosen my stiff member into the fresh air. It was painfully hard. I thought I would have to break it in two to get it out. The foreskin was already back behind the rim. The red head was completely out. It was a joy to see my manhood again. I had measured it, or rather Elihu had done so. My prick was just over six inches according to him. Also, according to Elihu, his cock was just at eight inches. I thought that he might have been exaggerating since it did not appear to be two inches longer than my own. That is when it was in my hand. When it was in my arse, it felt like it was over a foot long and almost as big around. It was a monster cock for a white man. The cocks on slaves appeared to be larger than most of the white masters. I lying under the blue and cloudless Pennsylvania sky in the month of July, stroking my cock and thinking about Elihu and Peter and that black slave at the market called Charles. Oh.... Ohhhhhh.... I could feel the cum rushing up my staff.... I stroked it faster and faster.... Ugggghh... my back arched... it was going to fly and soon... oooooohhhhhh oh my God... the cum exploded from my cock. It flew through the air and sprayed the dried grass to either side of me. I tried to make sure that it did not land on my pants since I had no idea when I would have clean clothes again. I lay there panting. Trying to recover from the orgasm.


This is my second day to write into this journal. I spent the night last night hidden behind some bushes on the road south of Gettysburg. As a scout, it is my job to spy on the enemy. I know it sounds like such a dirty job. I like to think of myself as a scout instead of a spy. Spy is really what I am. I guess if I get caught they will hang me just as high for being a scout as a spy. Anyway. After I had relieved myself of a hard cock, I was exhausted. I had some hard tack with me on which I chewed until I fell asleep. The sun was just peaking over the horizon when I heard voices. There on the road were two young boys. They appeared to be a couple of years younger than I. Maybe thirteen or fourteen. There was no one else in sight. The two were pissing into the ditch on the side of the road. Although they could not see me, they were standing looking directly in my direction with two beautiful young cocks exposed for my viewing. Even younger than I, both of their cocks were larger soft than my cock was soft Although I had just relieved myself the day before, I had a good nights sleep and apparently had recovered my masculinity. My cock rose and pushed against the cloth of my trousers. They stood there with the heavy streams of golden piss flowing from each of their flaccid cocks. When they were finished, it appeared that they were neither one in a hurry to put their cocks back into their pants. Each was shaking his own as thought to make sure that no lingering drops of piss remained. I did notice that each of them appeared to be looking at the other and each of their cocks was growing under the surveillance of his friend's watchful eyes.

Let me say that these boys were not the most beautiful boys that one has ever seen. They were rather skinny and their bones protruded. Their hair was a plain brown color. Their eyes were just a dull hazel. The younger one appeared to have blemishes on his face like so many adolescents get at that age. I wondered when the last time they had bathed when I thought of what I would like to do to them. Standing there in the cool of the morning with just the first light, they were pictures of what youth was all about. My cock was raging hard by this point. The older one turned to the other and took his arm. He guided the boy's hand to his cock. I heard him tell the boy to grab hold and move it up and down. Then he proceeded to demonstrate what he meant by grabbing the younger boy's prick and stroking it. There were gurgle's and oh's as the two proceeded to work on each other. I could see the look of adoration one for the other. I knew then it was time to make my move. Their education needed to progress from this point with an experienced tutor.

I stood up suddenly and scurried through the bushes. The boys were frantically trying to put their cocks back in their pants. It was comical to watch the two boys with raging hard eight-inch cocks trying to conceal them in very tight fitting pants. "No use putting those cocks of yours up. You are already caught, lads. Stand still would you." The boys quit trying to enclose their cocks but instead tried to hide them behind their out stretched hands. "I said to stop trying to hide. I saw you two flogging away at each other's pricks. I just do not think that you should be doing that out here on the public road. Come over the ditch and in here with me."

The boys looked at one another and said nothing. They jumped the ditch and came into the copse of woods where I had been hidden. Once they found that I was not upset with them for what they were doing, it appeared that they were more than willing to continue and even expand their activities. We said very little. When they were both hidden away with me and seated on my blanket, I took the younger one's hand and held it to my raging cock. He started to unbutton my pants and then proceeded to pull it out. Although I was not as big as either of them, I knew that I was the most experienced of the three. I pulled the older boy to me and had him kneel beside me. I just pulled him down onto his knees. He seemed to know what I was wanting because he turned to me and aimed his huge cock directly at my face. I grabbed round his waist and with a hand on one or the other of the dimpled globes of his ass I pulled him toward my open and waiting mouth. He let an audible sigh as I engulfed his cock deep into my throat. After a few minutes I spit him out and pulled his head toward my cock for a return of the favor. He got the message and using his tongue he lathed my head, the rim and the staff unto my balls. The other boy continued stroking it. He moved his hand to avoid the other boy's sucking. I pulled the younger one to me and took his member into my mouth. Again the sigh of pleasure. His eyes rolled back into his head. I could tell that this boy was a virgin. What sweet vengeance on the Yankees to take their budding youth's virginity.

While I was sucking him, I was able to pull his trousers completely down. Then his linens came down as well. He did not have the plump butt that I had enjoyed so on our young slave boys. His butt was really quiet narrow. When I tried to enter the crack with my fingers, he clinched his muscles. What? The taunt muscles in his ass bunched and there was a small handful. Below was the indenture where the skin was pulled tight. It was as though he were flexing his muscle. Like the way some men do their arms. It was very sexy. I thought that I would shoot into his young friends mouth, but I instead pulled out quickly. I wanted this to last and there were lessons to be taught. I pulled both boys to me and sat with one under each arm. I reached through the shirt and pulled and pinched on the nipple of the older boy with one hand and the younger with the other. I learned that they were brothers. I also learned that they were Yankee spies. They had been sent out to scout the area and return with information to their colonel. Instead of being embarrassed, they appeared to be proud to be out spying on the enemy. Of course they did not know that I was the enemy since I talked and acted just as they did. They thought that I was maybe a deserter. I assured them that I was not and was a local farm boy who was out looking for some stray cows that I feared the Rebs had stolen. All of this was being discussed as each of the boys took turns playing with my and their cocks.

When I was sure that I was stoked but not ready to explode with an impending orgasm, I turned to the younger boys and questioned him as to what experiences he had sexually. I was correct in assuming that his ass was virgin territory. I determined that would not remain the case. I told his brother to feed the boy his cock. He did not have to be asked to do so but the once, and immediately slid his pecker into the boy's mouth. I continued to play with the younger one's cock until I was sure that he was near the throes of orgasmic bliss. I then spanked him good. I had found that with slaves if you spanked them or whipped them the pain took their mind from protecting their virginity. Just as I felt him relax I flipped the boy over onto his back, threw his legs onto my shoulders, spit in his ass and rammed my cock into his asshole. It was as quick as it took to say Jack Robinson. There was a stunned look on his face. He had finally realized that he had a cock up his ass. His older brother moved back into position and fed him his cock. The young boy moaned. I was still holding my position since I was afraid that I would shoot my load on the first thrust since the boy's chute was so tight and hot. I eased outward and then back in. He started to writhe on the blanket. Twisting his body. This only increased my pleasure. I pushed back in and saw the look on wanton pleasure in his eyes. I knew that I had found his spot. I started hitting it with ever-downward stroke. I hit and them go all the way to the bottom. Hit and then go to bottom again. He moaned even with his brother's huge cock lodged in his throat. The older boy was starting to sweat. I knew that he was close. I could not last much longer. Then I hit the spot again and the boy lying there with his erection waving in the air with no help from his hand or anyone else started spraying his cream in all directions. The first shot was so intense that it hit me in the forehead. One went up his brother's back. That was all that it took. I emptied my load into his ass. The brother must have unloaded his load into his mouth at the same time because I heard his moans mixed with my own. We lay there on the blanket spent. They may not have been beautiful boys, but lying there in the early morning sun with their cocks long and limp they were truly sexy.

We finally recovered and cleaned our cocks. Each of us adjusted his clothes. The two brothers were talking quietly to each other. We never really talked. I did not even know their names. We got out kit together. They went their way, and I went mine. I was headed back toward Gettysburg. They were headed south. I wished them luck as they did me. As they were walking away down the road, the younger one turned and waved, "I'll always remember you, Reb," he said as he turned to catch up with his brother. That was when I realized that they had caught on to my charade. This was a conundrum I needed to solve. I pondered over it for a while. Finally, I figured that I had probably returned to my native accent when I experienced the climax in his virgin ass. Well, next time I would be more careful. I just hoped that here would be a next time.


I finally have made it to the outskirts of Gettysburg. It is the second of July. There are already flags and bunting on the fronts of the stores here. I can see the smoke from the enemy's campfires from here. I am safely tucked in the woods across the plain from the town. I have already made contact with the Confederates. It seems the firing that I heard yesterday was from a skirmish between that troop of Yankee cavalry that I had seen and our won troops who were out looking for forage. They made contact and fought. More troops were moved in during the night. They are moving in large numbers of troops just behind me. From here I can see just how little the town is. I can also see that he enemy is in position in the rocks and boulders on the little mountain across from here. As there does not appear much for me to do I shall continue to write my history.

I had met my uncles and cousins usually once or twice in the summer and then always at Christmas. We would always go to my Uncle George's plantation at Christmas since there was no closer family. With no woman in the house, we were not expected to entertain a lot of guest. Usually, we only entertained men who came by to see my father on business. I liked my relatives. Most of the boys were good looking. I found little to like about my female cousins, but they all made over me since I did not have a mother. Since I was so pretty as a child, even the older men would hold me in their laps and fondle my butt. I might mention that my butt was one of the better features that I had. It was round and soft. Men loved playing with it. I usually got a hard on when they did. If they noticed, they would just smile and continue rubbing my ass. I might add that I noticed that most of the ones on whose laps I sat usually got stiff pokers as well. Did you get the poker joke?

The way I got into this scouting business was that while I was studying languages with Purcell, he had taught me how to mimic the accents of the various nationalities as we learned them. Once we had visited a friend of his in Charleston who was a German. I listened intently all afternoon to the man speaking. I could understand what he was saying and before I left he could understand me. We were actually talking in German. He said that my accent was perfect had I been born in Hamburg. After I had been in the army for a short time, I feel in love with my colonel. He was big and hairy. I did not care that he had a small prick. He was so manly elsewhere. There were hairs on his shoulders. I had seen them when he had bathed at his washstand. I was not able to take the sexual frustration, so I slipped in his tent during the night and sucked his small cock. He had never had anything happen to him like that before and fell in love with my services. I was made his valet and given the rank of sergeant. I was moving on up in a hurry. When the soldiers moved, I was on a wagon riding. When we got there I picked out the best place to put my colonel's tent. I told people what to do, and they did it. I was just a lad, but I had the stripes on my uniform. They all knew that somehow I was important. One night when we had been lying in bed, I had said something in French about how hairy his chest and belly were.

That French may have cost me my life. I hope to finish this journal, but if I don't then it was because of my speaking French in the heat of passion. That was my clue as to why the boy had caught me at being a rebel. I tend to be very vocal when I climax.

"You sound just like a Frenchman, Jared," my colonel whispered in my ear.

"Oui, mom colonel. Aye en lad 'e ld thank I wus a Scot nae less."

"How many languages can you do?" he asked as we lay there. His cock was still going soft in my ass. I was snuggled up against my big hairy colonel. I guess I was a little bold because what I said was that I could mimic most accents.

"Could you mimic a Yankee?"

"I suppose I could if I were around one long enough and listened to it."

My colonel was no longer interested in my ass. He got out of bed and told me to get a lantern. "Get dressed and get my uniform." He went outside the tent in just his long john underwear. I could hear him talking to the sentry. When he came back, I had a lantern on his map table. I had on my uniform tunic. I still had not buttoned it since it was so hot. I went to the bed and knelt there getting his clothes together. He had stripped them off when he decided he wanted to ram his cock up my ass. I was glad that I had had so many cocks there before I met him. It could not have been more than five inches although he told me that he was at least seven inches. In my ass it felt maybe five or six not even seven there. I took his clothes to him. I heard voices outside the tent. One of them had a strange accent.

Whoever it was spoke English. That is when I recognized what was up. My colonel wanted me to speak like a Yankee. I thought that this was something to do with our sex play, but he soon told me that I would be earning my sergeant stripes for real. I was going to sound like a Yankee, think like a Yankee and spy on the Yankees for him.

I felt my heart go to the ground. What had I done to myself? Here I was going to be in the most dangerous job in the army. No one on either side liked spies. Not even your own spies. The job of spy was probably the least respected job in the army. Even the camp whores were considered better than a spy. I enjoyed being my captain's whore. I had rank, but being a spy had nothing rewarding about it. I changed my mind when I saw the Yankee prisoner that I was to learn the accent from however. The guards brought him into the tent. He was almost twice my height it seemed. He was at least a foot taller than my five foot four inches. I would guess at lest six four or five. When you consider that my colonel was six foot and the tallest man in our regiment, this man was a giant. He was bare from the waist up. I could see the welts on his back where someone had whipped him obviously trying to get information from him. His chest was hairless. I thought that was a draw back until I saw that there was just above his trousers a line of beautiful golden hair leading to his prick. I could see his member and the outline of its huge head lying along his left leg under the tight blue materials of his Yankee uniform. I have saved the best for last - his head. It was a globe of massive golden curls. He looked like the pictures I had seen of the statues of Greek gods. His blue eyes were flashing. His white teeth were flashing. He was straining against the ropes that bound his arms to his sides. The guards pushed him down onto his knees in front of the colonel.

"Listen to him and see if you can learn to speak like him. You can do whatever you want with him. He belongs to you for as long as you need him."

"I can't keep him here."

"Then commandeer a tent for yourself. You have the authority. Set up housekeeping with him if you want. Whatever it takes. I just want you to be the most convincing Yankee there has ever been before the Fourth of July."

There I was with this giant Yankee soldier bound and kneeling in front of me. What and how was this going to work? I first found a basin of water and started washing the wounds on his back. He flinched at first, but the cool water soothed his burning flesh. I had some salve that one of the slaves had given to me when I left home. I thought that might reduce his pain. It did. For the first time, he spoke to me civilly instead of with profanity and growling. "Thank you."

I ran my fingers through his golden curls. "My name is Sergeant McCarter. What is your name soldier?"

I saw that he was trying to decide if he should even tell me his name. I smiled at him. My hand left his hair and rubbed the muscles in his neck. I walked back in front of him and continued rubbing the bulging muscles of his chest. His tits were large brown circles filled in with a lighter brown. The nipples were big. Although my nipples had been pulled on and twisted many times, his nipples were naturally bigger and longer than my own. I let the back of my hand rub across each of them. That is when I noticed his cock was stirring and growing even longer. I put my finger to his lips. I knew that either I would loose a finger or I would be able to trust him from then on. He took my finger into his mouth as sucked it. His eyes were watching my cock tent my gray trousers. We had come to an understanding. We both knew what we liked and what we wanted. Man sex.

"If I take the ropes off will you promise not to hit me?"

"I might," he laughed. "Then I might not. It depends."

"What does it depend on?" I knew that we were now playing. We both were smiling.

"It depends on whether I have something to keep them busy instead."

"Oh, you will have plenty to keep you busy."

We both laughed as I took his ropes away. He stretched his arms. I rubbed them up and down to return the circulation in these. He then grabbed me and hugged me to his huge form. My face was in his face, and we were kissing. Smiling and kissing. Here was a prisoner who was happy that he had found someone in the rebel South who was interested in the same thing that he was. Sex.

I commandeered a tent, and the two of us literally set up housekeeping. He continued to wear the shackles on his ankles. I explained to him that I could justify letting him be free except for that. The men had to know that he would not run away. I also told him that eventually when we were near enemy lines that I would let him go if he would promise to go straight to his home and not fight any more. He said that after everything he had seen he was sure that he would never fight again. The only reason that he had joined the military in the first place was that his brother was keen on going and did not want to go without him.


I had a true Yankee living with me. We had been together for the past two months. How can I hate the Northerners as a race and yet love one of them so much? His name I learned was Otto Gunther. His grandparents had come from Saxe-Gotha and settled in New Jersey. His parent still lived there on a farm in Monmouth County. His brother's name was Herman. They were only a year's difference in their age. Otto was not twenty-one and Herman was nineteen. They had gotten separated in Fredericksburg after the battle there. He had been looking for his brother when he was captured. He was still very sad that he had not found him. In a war like this one, it was surprising that we could find anyone since there was so much confusion. After we talked for a while and then I had gotten us something to eat, it was evident that my new slave needed a bath. His body odor was rank and unseemly. I suggested that we go to the river for a bath. He agreed wholeheartedly but could not see how he could without drowning. I asked him if he could swim, and he said that he could but not shackled. I then called a guard and had his manacles removed. The guard looked worried about what I was doing. I told him to come with us. He was not a bad looking soldier himself. The three of us went to the river that ran behind the encampment. I removed all my clothing. Then so did Otto. This was the first time that I had seen his manhood. What a sight to behold. It was at least eight inches long and the girth was tremendous. The purple head was already pushing out of his ample foreskin. I could tell that he was at least semi-erect. My own however was totally straight and hard. I glanced at the guard and could see a tenting in his uniform trousers as well. We hit the icy water. The river was fed by numerous springs high in the Virginia mountains. No longer did either of us have to worry about showing a hard on. My cock had shrunk into my pubis. My testicles were up in there somewhere as well. Even Otto looked like a gelding. We laughed and splashed in the icy river. I soaped his back and butt, and he did mine. There was no inhibition on either of our parts. The guard obviously was enjoying out interplay since I noticed a wet spot on his trouser front when we emerged from the water. I pointed this out to my prisoner. We both laughed. I then told the guard to give me his rifle, and I would guard the prisoner while he took a bath. He refused several times, but since I was of higher rank I ordered him to strip and bathe. When he was undressed, Otto and I both assured him that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. He had a seven and a half inch cock dripping pre cum and waving in front of a pair of oversized balls. He bathed quickly, with the same results that the icy water had on us, and then dressed again.

I found out the guard's name when we got back to camp. He was Randolph Purcell from Charleston. I immediately asked if he were related to Peter. Peter was his uncle. That was all I needed to know. He would never know the debt that I owed his family. I immediately left him to guard Otto and went to my Colonel's tent. There I asked that Randolph be assigned as permanent guard for my prisoner. My Colonel objected at first, but after I had wiggled my butt several times into his crotch and sat upon his lap he gave me what I wanted. Randolph would be Otto's personal guard. The fact that Randolph had indicated that he was interested in our bodies allowed me to think that he would be discrete about what Otto and I decided to do with those bodies. I did not have to worry about discretion, because when I opened the flap to my tent upon my return Otto was kneeling in front of young Purcell and had Purcell's cock lodged in his mouth. It was extremely erotic, and my member sprang forth fully blown. I told them to carry on. I started removing my uniform while watching this spectacle before me. I then lay on my cot and watched as the play moved toward its climactic conclusion. Randolph's dark brown hair fell loosely around his shoulders and over his forehead. He was fine featured similar to his uncle. Thin lips. Chiseled chin and jaw line. His nose was starkly pointed, but it was small and fitted excellently with the rest of his features. You could see the fine French pedigree in his deep brown eyes. They were almost black. His body was thin but well defined. He had a nicely turned leg with a masculine calf that had developed from riding I assumed. His arms too were muscled. In all I would say that he was a fine figure of a young man. I noted how he shivered and then arched his back as he ejaculated down the throat of my prisoner, Otto.

"Bravo. Bravo. You have both done a job well there. Bye the bye, Randolph, you have been permanently assigned as guard to our prisoner, Otto. I doubt that will be the last time you will have to make sure that he is fed properly."

We all laughed. Randolph was blushing slightly just realizing that he had been performing for an audience although it was an audience of only one. He quickly pulled his trousers up. Otto was still kneeling with his huge cock laid out on a blanket in front of him like some German sausage that I had seen on a visit to Peter's German friend in Charleston. Well, since I was already naked and so was he, we might as well do something to relieve the tensions. I told Randolph to keep guard outside and not allow anyone to enter. He took up his post.

Otto and I lay out on the blanket. He and his brother had experimented and what he knew they had discovered together. I quickly saw that I was going to have to add to his rough knowledge a more sophisticated learning. He was fairly proficient in oral sex, but I had to demonstrate how one could take much more cock by opening ones throat and allowing the cock to enter. After gagging several times and choking, I keep my encouraging demonstration going. I held his head and pushed into his throat refusing to allow him to back off. It slid farther and farther with each of my thrust. I told him to breathe through his nose. I slowed down and let him get the hang of it. That was what he got. The hang of my cock all the way down into his throat and his nose in my pubic hairs. We had much the same sort of gentling to do when it came to anal sex. He learned about opening the hole before ramming home. I felt for his poor brother. Within the month he was a much more sophisticated lover, and both Randolph and I were having an excellent time riding that huge cock. I was also learning to speak like a Yankee. That was when we had moved over the Potomac River into Pennsylvania.

My Colonel was happy with the results of my learning from Otto. I was to be given papers to prove that I was a Yankee. I would be from Cincinnati since the border states sometimes had a combination of accents. That way I would be able to explain any slips of the tongue, so to speak. I would have all that and be able to go out by the next afternoon. When I told my comrades what was going to happen, they were not happy. Neither was I. Then they informed me of their plans. We would all have wonderful sex that evening. The next morning when Randolph took his prisoner to the latrine they would both just keep walking. Randolph had a bundle of civilian clothes hidden a half mile away. He would then become the prisoner of Otto. They planned to return to his home in New Jersey where they would sit out the rest of the war regardless of the outcome.

I took Purcell out of the tent so that we could talk privately. I asked him if he understood that his family would never condone his living with the enemy and that he could possibly end up in a Yankee prison camp. He said that he trusted and loved Otto. He said that they had discussed all of the ramifications. His parents had ten other children. He was about midway through as far as age and, like his uncle, not probable to inherit the family plantation. If the North won then he would be in a position where he could help them. I thought about all that he was saying and considered going with the strange lovebirds. What sort of life was I going to have as a spy? Well at least it would be interesting and exciting before I was hung.

That night, after we had eaten what little we had for our supper, we retired to our tent. Since we most probably would never see each other again, the two wanted to make it a night for me to remember. Randolph started the evening activities by undressing both Otto and me. He then pulled a wooden tub into the tent. It was filled with water that he had left sitting in the sun all day. Both Otto and I bathed in the water using some soap that I had on hand. Then Randolph did the same. We were all going to be clean and smelling of soap for our last night's adventures. None of us pretended that we needed to put our clothes on. I have no idea from where he had gotten them but clean linen sheets were produced and over a pallet of blankets and quilts formed into a lovely large bed. The three of us then lay head to cock and proceeded to service one another. I was sucking Randolph and Randolph was sucking Otto and Otto was sucking me. After a bit, we reversed the order. I could feel the cum building at the base of my cock. Otto had learned a great deal of expertise in the past month. His tongue was lapping up and down my staff and then running around under my foreskin. He would then give a tongue lashing to the piss hole and the helmet of my cock's head. I was getting close very quickly. I could feel young Randolph's balls moving closer to his scrotum. I knew that he was close to cumming was well. All of us having serviced each other and sharing similar taste in sex, we knew what pushed each of us over the edge into that orgasmic state. I reached out and rolled Purcell's balls as I sucked him. At the same time I felt Otto's finger invade my asshole. I immediately unloaded my cum into his mouth and received a load from the cock in my own mouth. It was as if it were coming in one end and going out the other. I knew what Randolph had done to Otto to trigger him into climax. Otto had those large nipples that were extremely sensitive. We had all reached our climaxes within seconds of one or the other. We were truly brothers. That night for the first time we all sleep naked with our bodies entwining. I was sure that no one would come into the tent, because I had put my colonel's tunic over a chair outside. No one would have dared to bother him except in dire emergency and then they would have called out first.

The next morning they left and I was sad. I hope that they succeed in getting away. After the war I am supposed to visit them in New Jersey regardless of who wins. Otto told me how to find his farm in Shrewsbury Township. I was to find the church and tavern that were on the Monmouth Pike near the old battlegrounds from the Revolutionary war and then ask someone there for directions to the farm. Everyone knew where his family lived. I kissed each of them God sped. I have never had a brother, but should I ever have had one I would have wanted him to be like either one of those two. How could we be fighting people like Otto or vise versa? Randolph may be deserting the cause. I do not see it that way. His own cause seems more important. I watched as they disappeared down the road. I would not report them missing. Later in the day I would no longer exist as Jared Adam McCarter. By nightfall I was Benjamin Brown. Is that not an exciting name?


Now, diary, I have told enough that if I do not get caught by the Yankees and hung then I will be hung by my own side for aiding a prisoner to escape. Well, that was several weeks ago although it seems like a year. There has been firing and skirmishing going on all day. They say that there it is a real battle although no one ever thought that it was to take place here. It was like the two sides just bumped into each other, started fighting and then send for everyone else to join in the free-for- all. It is even rumored that Marse Robert is here or on his way. Well, General Lee is here. I saw him for the first time and he rode by just now with a group of other generals. I got a hard on just standing there at attention as he rode by. He is so lovely to look at. Those gray whiskers. Those piercing blue eyes. He is not as old as I thought he would be. At least he does not look that old. He did not frown or smile. He looked really serious. He saluted. I swear I thought I would cum in my uniform when it seemed that he looked right at me. I could have died and gone to heaven if all those generals had been naked. Every one of them had a beard. I could just tell that they were all hairy and virile men. Hairy men are real erotic stimuli for me. General Longstreet is moving his forces in just north of where I am sitting now. They have a big day planned for tomorrow.

Later, July 2nd 1863. It appears that my Colonel no longer needs me since he chose another boy to be his valet while I was out being the brave spy. I think he did it because I had neglected him while Otto and I had been living together. I had to learn to speak like a Yankee. After all, it was his idea. Also, he informed me that should there be a retreat it would be back towards the Potomac where we had crossed into Pennsylvania. He never mentioned where we would head if we won. General Longstreet thinks that he can take out the enemy's position with a cannonade. I really cannot see how this would help since one man sitting on top of what they are calling "little big top" could probably take out an entire platoon. It is a huge rock that juts out of the earth. Not a mountain but more like a tower where one can look down on at least three sides. Between you diary, and me I do not think anyone would miss me if I started on my own retreat. Let's see what tomorrow brings. Although it is late, I still have enough light to write. Again, as I so often do on nights when the stench of death is hovering over the battlefield, I think about how wonderful life was at home. Well, most of the time it was wonderful, and it was surely better than being in battle.

Once Purcell had left, the hunt for another tutor was begun. We spent Christmas with my Uncle George and his family as usual. As usual I had been harassed by my cousin Elihu who was just a year older than I. Elihu was not only a year older than I but at least a half-foot taller and a lot of pounds more. He was not fat. He was big. Already he had reached manhood, which you could see, prominently in his tight trousers. He tended to strut when he walked. This was the winter before I had turned twelve. I had only had my first wet cum some a few weeks before Christmas. Already there were a few hairs around my cock, which would get hard at the most reckless times. It was over Christmas that one night Elihu came into my bedroom stark naked and jump upon me. He was astute but not intelligent. He had waited until he knew that I was asleep. The surprise tactic worked. At first I thought that he was just being mean. He spanked me on my bubble butt really hard. My mouth was pushed into a pillow so that I could not scream. Just as I though the pain unendurable, he flipped me on my shoulders, put a glob of grease on my asshole and drove his cock up my chute. I was skewered in less than a minute. He stopped and just held me down as I came to the realization of what had happened. He put his hand over my mouth to stifle the screams. Suddenly, it seemed that my innards were accommodating his cock and making him welcome. There was a nice full feeling and a tingling in my testicles. He started to ride me as he would a horse that he was trotting. Up and down. His heels were near my back and mine were over his shoulders. It was not long that I was playing the part of the horse and rising on the opposite beat. We were together. It felt so totally complete except that it was Elihu who had tormented me. It was Elihu, my nemesis. He smiled that cocky smile of his.

He said in a whisper, "You wanted this to happened, didn't you?"

I lay there thinking what the truth was. I guess I really had wanted it to happen. Elihu was beautiful. He was so masculine. He may have had freckles, but he was definitely from the masculine side of the family. He continued to ride me as if I were a young colt that he was breaking.

"I... I ah... " was all that I could get out at first. I was still taking his cock, which although never as big as he claimed was still ample to fill my ass. "I guess I have. I just never thought that it would be you. Do you like this sort of sex?" I finally asked him.

"Hell, yes. I love fucking a bubble butt like yours. I get tired of the slaves and rather have white meat ever so often for variety. You have a beautiful bubble butt. The problem is that you know it and use it to get what you want. If you were not such a prig and a prude, I would have fucked you long ago. Finally. I just could not take your teasing everyone, so I figure why not me. I get a piece of virgin ass; you get what you have been craving, and hopefully you stop fucking with all the old men's heads." He laughed about that. "Do you realize that you even had old man Hargrove hard at the table tonight when you were rubbing you ass against his leg?"

"No. You are kidding me?" I knew that I had that sort of effect on some men but not the preacher. He should never get a hard on over me.

"Well, he did. That was the straw for me. I had to have you. So, just shut up and let me finish."

All the time that we had been talking he had continued to fuck me. We both came to climax at the same time. I had never had an orgasm without at least someone stroking my cock before. It was so intense I was afraid that I was going to faint. Elihu pulled out and rolled over on his back. He pulled my sheet up and cleaned his cock. I would have never done that knowing that someone would see it when they washed the sheets. Why would he care? It was my sheet. I was thinking all this when he pulled me to him and kissed me. It was passionate and yet gentle. Here was an Elihu I could love. I was thinking about not hating him when called me his boy pussy and other humiliating names. I started to cry. He would never know how much he missed by being so insensitive at that moment. Elihu was here somewhere. I had a letter from his mother, Aunt Elizabeth. However much I disliked him, we were still kissing cousin. That is not the end of the story however with Elihu.

As I said Purcell had gone to English with his friend. We had Christmas and New Years with Uncle George and Aunt Elizabeth. I got a cock up my bum even if it was Elihu's. After New Year my father and Uncle George were talking about finding a new tutor for me. Uncle George had mentioned how it was a pity that we lived so far away since Elihu had a wonderful tutor and was advancing really quite well. I shuddered until Uncle George called the tutor, Michael Pettigrew, into the parlor to talk with my father. If I thought that Peter Purcell was beautiful, this man was gorgeous. I had seen a drawing of the statue of Adonis from Greek times. This man was a spitting image of the statue had someone put clothes on the stone. He had golden curls which held close to his head like a cap. He had a chiseled nose, chin and jaw. His eyes were limpid pools of blue. Why was he not naked and standing on a pedestal was all that I could think. I had to have him. I would turn over mountains. But Michael Pettigrew was going to be my tutor not the tutor of that clod Elihu.

After a brief conversation with my father and Uncle George, I knew that Michael had gone to the College of Charleston just as Peter. He remembered Purcell but was several years younger than Peter. Yes, he had Latin, German and French. He was quiet well founded in mathematics and logic. His concentrated work was in elocution and semantics. Then they had asked him how much would he charge to teach both Elihu and myself. He looked directly at me.

"I am not sure how much young Jared knows. It was a stretch to get Master Elihu caught up on his languages, and, as you know Mr. McCarter, your son is only now becoming as proficient as he should be. If Master Jared is in the same shape I would not undertake to teach both because I could not succeed."

I knew it was time to act. I told Michael in my best Latin that I thought that he was an Adonis and that in the words of Catullus I would feast at his rear tables and sup from those that were before. This got his attention. But, then when I went on to tell him in my best-accented French that nor only was he getting both Elihu, who I assumed he had already had sexually but me as well, and that I could help him control my cousin in his stupidity. Then in German with an Hamburg accent, I finished by stating the obvious that he should get as much as he could from my father and uncle so that we could travel and explore the world of sexuality. He paid rapt attention. When I finished I asked him if there was anything that I needed to repeat. He said not. He thought that he had the meat of the matter translated. We both chuckled at his choice of words. He told them that after hearing me speak three languages he had no question that he could tutor both boys effectively given that they could compensate him in like manner. It was then decided that he and Elihu would move to our house and that Uncle George would pay double in cash since my father was feeding and housing both Elihu and Michael.

It was glorious for the next few months. There was a cock somewhere near me every time I looked. Most of the time they were hard and usually ready to be either rammed in my ass or placed gently in my mouth and then rammed down my throat. I might say that my cock got just as much and just as good attention. It looked more and more like war. South Carolina was pulling out of the Union. Michael did not want to fight. He said that he had no qualms about telling anyone that he was a coward through and through. Of course Elihu thought that was despicable. Michael held the same opinion as Chestnut and Bobo as to remaining in the Union. Elihu was an avid states-righter. I finally boiled down to Elihu being proslavery and Michael being for abolition. There were evenings when the discussion at the dinner table threatened to be far worse than the actual battles to come. By April my father agreed that if Michael wanted to leave he should do so as soon as possible. He advanced him his salary from his own moneys and told him that he would get it back from his brother. I think he thought that George might renege on the man's salary since he was as rabid for secession as his son. Elihu had already returned to his father's plantation swearing that he was enlisting as soon as war was declared. There did not appear to be a question that there was to be war. Michael took his money, invited me to join him in Europe and left. I gave him Purcell's address and a letter of introduction to him in England. My father and I were alone from then until the war was officially declared. The first shot fired on Fort Sumter was known to everyone in the state in less than a day. As soon as the shot was fired riders were headed out to inform the rest of the population. I hoped that Michael had caught his ship and was on his way. I had been a wonderful experience having sex with such a beautiful man.

Those were my three tutors. They were as different as night and day. Stevenson was the one that taught me how to read and in a funny way opened up the world of intrigue that surrounds sex. Purcell opened up my world to sex and a thirst for intellectual pursuits. Michael was beauty. He taught me lots about math and science, but it was the fact of just looking at his beauty that made you appreciate everything else around you. Well, the oil is running low. I still hear firing near the town of Gettysburg. I can see the lights from the campfires along the ridge and the craggy outcroppings. We cannot say that we won the day. Rumor is that we probably lost more than gained. I wonder if anyone would miss me very much if I just left. I have thought about going after Otto and Randolph or going back toward Virginia and home. I am not sure which I should or would do. I really do not want to stay here. I have seen too many battles in my sixteen years to want to see another. I have not seen Elihu. Maybe I should find him. I wonder if he is still alive. If he is, I am sure that he is here. Tomorrow I will try to find him. After all, he is family.


There was little sleep last night. Troops were moving all night. It is lunchtime now on the third day of July. It is impossible to escape the fact that this is the day of decision. Longstreet has all his cannon out on the field. It is impressive the massive array of artillery. I can see most of it from here lined up across from the enemy lines upon the ridge. Pickett arrived yesterday and is to charge the hills just after the cannons have done their work.

I wrote that at noon. No one will believe what happened between noon and now. Just after I wrote the cannons started. The noise was so bad that I had to hold my hands over my ears. I feared that my eardrums would burst. It was most painful. Then Pickett did lead his men across that field. What a slaughter. You could hear the wounded screaming. The Yankees on those ridges just mowed them down. Lee keeps sending more of the boys after the ones that had already fallen. Being a scout and my colonel's aide I was not expected to go. I am not sure that I would have gone into that killing field had I been ordered to do so. My tears stain this paper now as I sit writing for all those beautiful boys who are no longer capable of sex and love. I pray that Elihu somehow escaped their fate. I no longer think ill of Michael for escaping to England. I am headed back to Virginia. Since I had so little time for sleep last night, I keep nodding off to dreamland. I am sure that my dreams will be nightmares from what I have seen this day. Sleep I must.


July Fourth and no celebration. I hope that I can read this entry since I am writing in while riding in the back of a wagon. Well, so much for trying to write while riding in a wagon. What was that two lines. It was impossible and a waste of a page. We are camped just over the Potomac River. There are hospital tents and surgeons everywhere. I have never seen so many wounded men. Men with a leg gone. Men with an arm gone. These are more normal that excepted among the survivors. What a loss of virile manhood. There are more young men missing than remain. There are rumored totals as to thousands of men who died on both sides. It seems remarkable that so many could die in the span of a day. I have cried myself out for the misery of this army and my homeland. I have been helping with the surgeries, as I cannot find my colonel. He may be delayed in his retreat. He is such a smart man that I am sure he will be here eventually. I saw him just before he sent me off with the wagons yesterday. I am sure that I will find him. There is so much confusion.

This afternoon was more of the same. I saw so many young men with gapping holes in their arms and legs that I finally went outside and vomited. It was in this state of absolute revulsion that I found my dear cousin. I was outside the tent looking for water to wash away the horrid taste of my bile, and there sitting against an old oak tree was Elihu. He had taken his shirt off and was bare from the waist up except for his braces. His skin was so tanned that it was impossible to see his freckles. He had his slouch cap pulled over his eyes. I could see that the effect of the war did little to calm him since you could see his erect penis standing at attention. I could not help from smiling after so many days of sadness and mourning. Here was Elihu McCarter ready to ram it into any available hole and to hell with what is happening around him. Lying in camp with a hard cock and dreaming about sexual matters. I went on and found my water, washed up and cleaned my mouth of the bile. I then went and woke Elihu from his slumbers and brought him back to my tent to stay with me. He has not been able to find his platoon since the battle. There may be no platoon for him to find is what I fear. He is still arrogant and cocky. Once we were in the tent he threw me on the cot and started molesting me. Of course I molested him as well. We shot our loads very quickly. There was a difference in our sex. Elihu held me when we finished and kissed me repeatedly on the lips. Not the harsh kisses that I have grown accustomed to from him, but tender kisses of true love. I returned his sentiment as best I could trying to let him know that I felt the same.

I left Elihu to sleep and went back to the surgery to help. I worked all afternoon. As the evening was making it more difficult to see, I made my way back to the tent. To my surprise, Elihu had our campfire going. He had found my provisions that I kept well hidden I thought. There was a pot of coffee. Somewhere he had procured a rabbit and it was roasting on a spit over the fire. This was a veritable feast. After we had eaten, I lay back with my bedroll as a pillow, and we talked. We talked about home, the war and what we had each done and seen so far. There were bright stars overhead in the dark night. It was hot. Both of us had stripped to just our pants in order to catch what breeze there was. I delighted in looking at Elihu's strong and manly chest. He seemed so much more a man that he did before we left home. I told him about Otto and Randolph. He said that after the war that he would go with me to New Jersey to visit them. He had met a soldier from New Jersey who had been wounded at Fredericksburg. Elihu had taken a shot in his butt. Where else would Elihu get shot? He took down his pants and showed the wound to me. I laughed about his wound, and he pouted. We were almost like boys again. It seems that from the description of the Yankee soldier in Fredericksburg and Otto, that must have been his brother. Elihu said that he though his name was Herman. I asked what happened to him. He said that he had opted to take a parole and no longer fight. He was allowed to return home. I was so glad for Otto. After I had told him about the adventures Otto, Randolph and I had, Elihu admitted that he had bedded a Yankee as well. I laughed when he said that it was not something he was proud of. The campfire was now just a flicker. The cool of the evening, a star filled sky, a full stomach for a change and the boy who I loved --- who could ask for anything more. I stretched out next to Elihu. I lay my head upon his breast. He stroked my hair and let it run through his fingers.

'I love you."

"I love you, too."

We lay there on the warm ground in the Virginia night in a loving embrace. "Elihu, let's go home."


I found that old diary and realized just how much our lives and the life of our nation were described on those few faded pages. Sitting here with Elihu in our rockers looking out over the farm. We no longer call it a plantation. I recall what happened those years ago.

The next day two boys, not men, packed the wagon I had with our gear and commandeering the two mules. We had each brought two bloodline mares into the army, so me felt that was a better than even exchange and that we were not horse thieves. We rode south toward Richmond and home. The two boys who returned to The Cedars were men. They realized that the war was over, at least for them. I had found that my colonel had been killed while leaving Gettysburg by a sniper. Elihu's entire platoon was killed in the battle. We had no place to go within the army. We were the lone survivors, and, as such, felt that we had done our duty. What more could anyone ask of us? Each night we spent in each other's arms in the high ceiling bedroom. Some nights one would comfort the other when the nightmares of war disturbed our dreams. We vowed to never spend another night without the other. So far we have been together. He has mellowed with time. I am no longer the bubble-butted kid that turned heads. There are gray streaks in both our hair. I still think that he is lovely to look at, and if the way he treats me at night is any indication the he thinks the same of me. We were lucky in that we were able to save the farm. My father died soon after we returned to South Carolina. Elihu and I sold as much as we could and traded in out Confederate notes for gold. By then the Confederate notes were not worth their face values. I wrote to Purcell and told him that our plans were to come to England. With the blockade I was not sure he would get the letter. Elihu knew the cotton factor that his father had used. This man was able to smuggle us aboard a French ship bound for England. Three weeks later we left a lot of happy French boys behind aboard that ship and made our way toward London. There we were able to find Purcell. He put us up until we could find suitable lodgings at Oxford. There both of us studied for several years. Elihu studied law, and I studied languages. We saw Michael frequently since he was in a position as tutor for a prep school near by. It would be ten years before we were to return here. Michael apprised us of what was happening to Randolph and Otto. It seems that Herman was the one Elihu met at Fredericksburg. They all were doing quiet well on the farm in New Jersey. Randolph had opened a general store there. The two brothers were farming. They sold most of their produce through Randolph's store. Uncle George and Aunt Elizabeth passed away while we were abroad. Elihu's eldest brother, Zebulon, had inherited what was left of the farm. We heard from him or his lawyers infrequently. He told me that a Negro family had moved into my house at The Cedars. For some reason that did not bother me that they were living there. What memories I had of home were just those memories. We had sold most of what was valuable before we left. I had no family other than Elihu, and he was with me. It just did not seem important. Most of the plantations in the South had been confiscated and given to the Negroes by the government. South Carolina was especially in bad shape. Sometimes Elihu would mention someone or something he missed. I felt sorry for him since he was not able to attend the funerals of his parents. Aunt Elizabeth had written up until she died. Then Zebulon had written about her death and burial. We both were employed at Oxford as tutors. We had a cottage outside of town where we spent our nights together. It was irregular but we were Americans and the locals overlooked a lot for just that. We are now on our sabbatical and have returned home. We took ship to New York. Stopped for a month in New Jersey with Otto and Randolph. I met his brother, Herman, who was quiet as much a man as Otto. We then came to The Cedars. I had sent word to the Negroes living there through Zebulon, that I was returning. After all, the house and the farm were still in my possession. When we arrived, I was most surprised. The house was spotlessly clean. What possessions I had left were in good order. The family who had been living there were extremely impoverished, but they had some how managed to grow vegetables and obtain pork with which to feed us. They treated us as though we were visiting royalty. We will only be here for one more day. I have packed all my father's and my books that we are shipping back to England. I have also shipped what I could find of the silver that my father had buried before the war. Someone, other than I, must have known where his cache was since a great amount of it was missing. Next week we spend with Elihu's brother, Zebulon, and his family. Then a week in Charleston. We go from there to New Orleans to visit the Westlakes, who we met in England where they had sought refuge during the war. We will sail from there stopping at Jamaica Island, then Bahamas and finally home. I hope that our journey is a safe one. It is so good to find this diary. I am glad that I got to update it. My life has been blessed with the love of a good man and lots of happiness since the tragedies described in the first of this journal.

May love reign eternal.