Date: Sun, 10 Mar 2019 00:39:21 -0500
From: jim wicks <wildwing4160@gmail.com>
Subject: Memories of Gettysburg C9

Preface: This is a love story involving gay youth and adults.  There are
vivid descriptions of consensual sex between the characters so the usual
warnings apply.

The story is completely ficticious but is built around the true events of
the American Civil War.  In that regard I have tried to be as accurate as
possible..

Thanks to all those who have responded to my story to date.  Please keep
those emails coming to wildwing4160@gmail.com .  I answer them all, even
those with criticisms.

Please consider donating to Nifty. It is important that we keep this
precious resource alive.

Enjoy!

			  Memories of Gettysburg

Chapter nine.

With the growing light Jordan surveyed his position. He knew he had to stay
concealed from the rebels but at the same time he sought to view all of the
action. Jordan was extremely excited.  This was going to be a grand show.

He soon found what he was looking for.  A large pine tree had blown down
close to the fence line.  The needles had turned brown but they were still
intact.  Climbing a few feet off the ground, he found a spot where he could
sit wedged between two large branches.  Peering out between the boughs
afforded him a perfect view of the wheat field.  The danger of stray
bullets coming into the woods never occurred to him.

Jordan didn't have to wait long.  He spied a handsome young officer mounted
on a magnificent steed brandishing a saber on high.  He raced back and
forth in front of the rebel soldiers waving his weapon about.  He seemed to
be imploring the soldiers to do their duty.  He is so brave Jordan thought.
He wasn't the yellow coward he had assumed all rebs to be.  Hearing a
muffled roar Jordan turned his head towards the Union line. He saw a
thousand puffs of blue smoke.  It seemed the entire Union Army was shooting
at this one brave officer.

\The horse reared up letting out a terrible neigh.  The rider hung on still
brandishing his saber.  The horse hung there for a moment before collapsing
onto its knees. The rider was thrown off doing a neat somersault over the
horse's head. He quick;y bounced up and grabbing the reins he implored the
animal to rise.  The horse tried mightily but failed.  Jordan noticed a
growing red patch on the grey uniform. His hat flew off as he took another
hit to the head.  The officer slowly pitched forward landing face first in
the soil.  He never moved again.

Jotrdan felt his tears. He was supposed to hate the rebs and yet he found
himself totally wrought over the death of the southern officer.  This
wasn't what he expected at all.  He'd played war dozens of times, first
with Ben and later with Joshua. In those games there was no pain and
certainly no blood.  You were either alive or dead.  There was nothing in
between.

Jordan's thinking was interrupted by the sound of thousands of muskets all
firing at once.  The Rebels were answering the Union volleys.  The
confederate cannons from nearby Seminary Ridge added to the din.  He
watched as large puffs of white began to burst here and there in front of
the Union line.  But then one shell struck home. At this distance it was
difficult to see the details but it was clear the shell had caused severe
mayhem to a small portion of the Union line.  Union cannons retuned the
fire and Jordan soon saw first hand what damage a single shell could cause.
He saw bodies and parts of bodies fly through the air.  He heard the
screams of the maimed and the dying.  Jordan was aghast to the point of
being overwhelmed.  He continually had to wipe away a steady stream of
tears in order to see straight.

A blood curdling scream from a thousand throats rolled over the wheat
field.  It was the now famous rebel yell that Ben had mentioned so often in
his letters.  Hundreds of men rose as one, leaped over the perimeter fence,
and charged into the wheat field.  Jordan was mesmerized by their bravery.
Headlong they ran into the teeth of the cannonball barrage.  The shells
were bursting among them creating scenes too horrible to describe.
Elsewhere Jordan saw many a soldier pitch forward as a Union bullet struck
flesh.  The air was filled with the screams of soldiers in terrible pain.
And yet the Rebels never stopped.  They kept moving forward until the last
man fell still short of the Union line.  The Union line was holding firm.

Just when a lull settled over the battlefield another Rebel yell ensued.
Hundreds more men entered the fray and the cycle began anew.  Jordan shook
his head in wonderment at the audacity of the brave southerners.

He noticed a small soldier banging away on a drum moving forward as bravely
as any of his comrades. Jordan realized he was looking at a child. He could
not have been more than a year or so older than Joshua.  He found himself
silently hoping the boy could somehow survive the carnage.  How strange
Jordan thought.  An hour ago he hated every reb and now he found himself
rooting for one.

He saw another soldier proudly carrying a large rebel flag on high as he
ran forward.  He ran perhaps thirty feet before clutching his chest and
falling to the ground.  Another soldier grabbed the flag and continued
forward.  Jordan watched in awe as no less than four rebels fell trying to
move the flag forward.  The flag advanced perhaps a hundred feet in all.

Jordan now turned his attention to the Rose residence. As if he wasn't
feeling bad enough already his pain increased five fold as he spied a large
hole in the roof of the house.  He could see smoke pouring out.  Obviously
a Union shell had inadvertantly made a direct hit.  He prayed that if the
Roses were still inside that they had miraculously survived.  He stared
long and hard at the door of the house hoping that at any moment the Roses
would burst from the building.  The door remained closed. Without
considering the danger he found himself screaming as loud as he could, "Get
out! Get out!"  Thankfully for Jordan the Rebel yells together with the din
of the battle completely muffled Jordan's yells.  Sadly the door remained
closed. Jordan thought momentarily of dashing across the field of battle in
an attempt to save the Roses.  He quickly realized that such an attempt
would be suicidal.

Jordan had seen enough!  Like Ben before him the realities of war had
matured him.  The excitement he had felt that morning had vanished to be
replaced by the brutal honesty of what war was all about.  Like Ben too he
had done a one hundred and eighty degree turn on how he felt about war.  He
decided he hated it!

He did a final check of the farmhouse.  Flames were now shooting high into
the sky.  It looked as if the roof was collapsing.  He knew no one inside
could survive that inferno!  There was now no point in moving closer.  His
mission had failed.  His only hope now was that the Roses had changed their
mind and fled the farm before the Rebels arrived.

His thoughts turned to his parents and he knew they must be worried about
him by now.  He had to get back, but how?  Any movement in the trees could
result in a hail of bullets coming his way.  He decided to close his eyes
and wait for darkness.

Yet another rebel yell assaulted his ears.  But this yell did not come from
in front of him.  It was behind him!  He realized he was no longer watching
a battle.  He was in it!  Confederate forces were in the woods and
advancing fast.

Recognizing his vulnerable position in the tree he felt he had no choice
but to climb down to seek a safer refuge.  He spotted a small depression in
the soil situated between two enormous trunks.  Quickly getting on his
knees he scooped out all the dead leaves and lay in the depression.  Then
starting with his feet he pushed every dead leaf he could reach back on top
of himself.  He placed a small hollow log over his face.  He prayed as hard
as any athiest could pray.

The Union artillery redirected some of the cannons towards the woods.
Shells began bursting all around him.  How ironic Jordan thought.  My own
brother is trying to kill me.  He could hear trees and large branches come
crashing to the ground.  Though his eyes were closed he was still aware of
the flashes of the exploding shells.  Worst of all, new screams of pain
assaulted his ears as the shells struck their targets.

The shelling failed to stop the Rebel advance.  Hundreds threaded their way
through the trees.  On several occasions he heard the crunch of leaves as a
rebel passed nearby. He prayed no one would step on him in their haste.  He
dare not move for even a twitch might give his position away.  Jordan could
feel his heart pounding.

Jordan held his position for hours.  He had no choice.  With dusk
approaching the woods finally began to grow silent.

The cries of the wounded could be heard clearly now.  One yelled simply,
"Help me please.  Help me," over and over.  Another cried out for water
while still another, a little further off, cried out for his mother.

It was quite dark when Jordan finally arose.  He was afraid if he waited
any longer he might be discovered by rebs looking to care for their
wounded.  Once again he stealthily moved from shadow to shadow hiding
behind the trees to continually reconnoiter.  He tried to avoid each rebel
he heard by giving them a wide berth.  Jordan tripped again.  He reached
ahead to push away the offending log only to grasp the leg of a dead
southerner.  He grimaced and moved on.  He had travelled perhaps three
hundred yards and was quite satisfied with his progress.  He stopped to
rest.

"Please help me sir, I'm hurtin something awful!"

John was startled for the voice was literally beside him.  Turning his head
to the right he could barely make out the small form partially hidden in
the shadows.  The voice was not that of a soldier.  It was too high
pitched.  He realized the form before him was that of a young boy.  He felt
compelled to investigate.  He stared down at the crumpled lad.

"Please don't leave me sir.  I don't want to die here.  Help me. PLEASE!"

The boy's predicament tugged at Jordan's heartstrings.  What to do?  He
could make out large patches of liquid glistening in what little light
there was.  He knew the liquid was blood, a lot of it.  Jordan's mind
drifted back to Ben's letters.  I'd be proud to call them Americans Ben had
said.  When he thought too of the bravery he had witnessed that day his
mind was made up.  He knew what he must do.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Andrew sir.  I'm with the Fourteenth Tennessee Volunteers."

"Can you stand Andrew?"

"I don't think so sir.  I can't feel one leg.  My side is hurtin real bad
and my head is hurtin some too."

"Look," Jordan explained, "I am by myself. If I am going to help, you have
to co-operate. Okay?"

"I'll try sir."

Jordan didn't know exactly how badly Andrew was wounded but he felt he had
to get him home as quickly as possible.  Ma would know what to do.  Life
had new purpose.  He was on a mission again. Gone was the fear of being
discovered.  He had to get moving.

He carefully lifted Andrew up onto his one good leg.  He then had Andrew
wrap his arms around his neck while he lifted the one good leg piggyback
style.  The second leg dangled helplessly to one side. It wasn't ideal but
it was the only way Jordan could think of to carry him.  Thankfully he
found Andrew to be surprisingly light as he manouvered around the trees.

"Sir, I don't think this is the way back to our camp."

"It isn't," Jordan confirmed.  "I'm taking you to my home."

"You're a Union soldier?" Andrew asked.

"No, not at all.  I'm a civilian.  I live in Gettysburg."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Of course not Andrew. We're going to fix you up good and proper. Okay?"

There was a long pause before Andrew responded.  "But why would you do
that?" he asked.

Jordan felt pride well up inside him as he answered.  "Cuz we are all
Americans Andrew.  After this war is over we have to learn to live
together. All right?"

There was another long pause before Andrew whispered, "Okay, I guess."
Andrew then went quiet.

Jordan didn't know that much about first aid but he did feel it was
important to keep a badly wounded person awake, especially with a head
wound.  Accordingly he kept up a steady banter.

"Were you a drummer boy Andrew?"

"Yes sir, but I lost my drum.  It got smashed to pieces when I got hit."

"Why did you join the army?"

"I didn't want to join. I hate fightin. My pa made me."

Jordan explored further.  "Why would your father do that if you didn't want
to join?"

"He said I was too much of a sissy.  He said the army would make a proper
man out of me."

Jordan could see the edge of the woods approaching.  He felt Andrew was
slowly falling asleep. He quickly restarted the conversation.

"How old are you Andrew?"

"I'm .......  I'm twelve sir.  Well .......  almost thirteen," he
whispered.

Jordan could sense the tiredness in his voice.  "Look Andrew, I need you to
stay awake.  All right?"

"I'll try sir but I'm awfully tired and I'm hurtin somethin fierce."

At that point in their travels they had their first fence to get
over. Jordan knew he had to hurt Andrew some to manage it but it could not
be helped.

"I don't think I can go much further sir.  The pain is getting worse."

"Hang in there," Jordan implored, "It ain't much further."

They travelled another field before they came up against yet another fence.
That was it.  Andrew's body gave out.

"Please put me down. I can't go no no more."

Jordan knew he would probably kill him if he insisted on carrying him
further.  They lay down together.  To Jordan Andrew seemed to be such a
sweet boy, the very last kind of boy one would expect to find on a
battlefield. Jordan made a pledge to himself.  He wasn't giving up!

"Look Andrew, I need to get some help.  My pa will know what to do.  You
hang in there.  Don't you dare go to sleep cuz if you do you may never wake
up. You hear?"

"Yes sir," Andrew mumbled, "I'll try my best."

Jordan felt Andrew needed more moral support before he left but what to do?
Then it came to him. He didn't put too much thought into it. He just did
it.  He bent over and kissed Andrew full on the lips! The boy did not
recoil.  In fact to Jordan he seemed to welcome the kiss.

"Thanks," he responded quietly.

Without another word Jordan took off for home.  He should have been bone
tired for he hadn't slept for almost two days.  Yet his legs felt light.
He flew over obstacles as he reached his own property. He didn't stop until
he burst into the kitchen of his own home.  He found his father crying for
just the second time in his life.

Pa leaped out of his seat.  "Jordan!  Thank God! You are alive!"  He
wrapped his arms around his son. He kept crying but now they were tears of
joy instead of sorrow. "In my mind I had you dead and buried son," he
sobbed.

"I'm real happy to see you too pa but this has to wait.  I got a soldier
out in the field who is hurtin real bad. I need you to help me save him."

"You are not going anywhere son, We gotta fix you up some first. Where ya
hurtin?"

"I'm not hurtin anywhere pa.  I'm fine!"

"Look at all the blood son.  You gotta be hurtin somewheres."

"Ain't my blood pa.  It belongs to the soldier I'm trying to save."

Satisfied that his son was in good shape pa went into action.  "He must
really be hurtin bad to spill that much blood.  Let's go!"

Jordan retraced his steps once again this time accompanied by his father.
They found Andrew where Jordan had left him.  For one horrible moment he
thought he may be too late.  Andrew did not stir.  Jordan did not think he
could absorb another setback that night.  He implored Andrew to speak to
him. "Wake up Andrew. Wake up!"

Andrew slowly opened his eyes and in a voice so quiet he could hardly be
heard replied, "I'm awake sir. I done what you told me to.  I didn't
sleep." Despite the pain he smiled and added, "I knew you would come back
for me."

Jordan expected pa to leap into action.  Instead he just stood there
staring at his son.

"What's wrong pa?"

"Jordan, you didn't tell me he was a reb."

"It don't matter none pa. He's just a boy and we gotta save him."

"Son, do you know what they do to people who help the enemy?  Joshua might
be okay but you, your mother, and I, will be shot.  It's called aidin and
abbettin and there ain't no excuse for it!"

"Still don't matter pa. What would Ben want us to do?"

Pa stood there mulling over Jordan's question.  A worried look was slowly
replaced with a wide grin. "You are right son. I am proud of you.  Ben
would want us to save him!  Let's do it!"

With that pa swept Andrew gently into his arms like he was holding a new
born baby.  They marched quickly across the fields and on to their own
property.  As the party approached the cave pa yelled out a warning of
their presence.  Ma rushed out to see what the commotion was about and
almost collapsed when she spied Jordan.

"Oh my good Lord," she cried as she rushed into his arms.

As tall as his mother now Jordan bent forward and kissed his mother on the
forehead.  "I'm glad to be home ma."

While Mr. O'Reilly carried Andrew into the cave ma hung on to Jordan for
dear life.  Then just as quickly her mood swung and she vent her
frustrations on her son.

"How could you do this to your own mother?  I died a thousand deaths
worrying about ya.  You may be as big as I am but I an here to tell ya you
ain't too big for a good whippin and that's a fact."

Jordan wasn't too worried about the threat of a whipping.  He'd never been
whipped on his life and he knew his mother wasn't going to start now.

Ma suddenly recognized the blood covering Jordan and her mood swung yet
again.  "You're hurt son. Where ya hurtin?

Once again Jordan explained, "I'm fine ma. Tain't my blood.  It belongs to
the boy I'm trying to save. C'mon, we got work to do!"

Before the pair could move Joshua burst from the cave toting an empty
bucket.  "We got us a real live reb ma!" he shouted.  I gotta get some
water for pa."  Spying Jordan he added, "Hi Jordan. Where ya bin?"

Jordan opened his mouth to answer but it was already too late. Joshua had
dashed off to the creek.

Jordan was surprised when he entered the cave.  While not as cozy as home
the cave was more inviting than it had ever been. A large part of the floor
was now covered by a mat.  A second lamp had been added to make it brighter
and ma's favorite painting hung on the wall.  Additional furnitue had been
added too including a second and third bed.  Best of all the air was filled
with the delectable aromas of ma's cooking.

Andrew was propped up in one of the beds.  Pa was sitting by his side
holding a cup of fresh water to his lips.

"Drink as much as you can son. We need to replace all the fluid that you
lost."

Andrew stressed, "I don't aim to be a burden to ya's all."

"Nonsense," pa replied, "You aint no burden.  That's for sure.  We're going
to fix you up proper like."

Pa was treating Andrew like his own son.  It made Jordan smile.

Unlike pa, ma didn't hesitate in treating a rebel.  She was color blind.
To her Andrew was simply a boy who obviously needed her help.  Her motherly
instincts kicked in.

Ma took a pair of scissors and began to cut away the shredded uniform.
Jordan winced as the wounds gradually came into view.  When it came to the
leg it took ma over an hour to separate the uniform from the dried blood
and bloated raw flesh.  Jordan steeled himself but it was no use for he
turned away.  He felt nauseated.

Joshua of course was curious and wanted a close look.  Pa was working
overtime to prevent Joshua from seeing the worst.  It was ma that came up
with the solution to that little problem.

"Joshua I want you to be very brave and help me save Andrew. All right?"

"Yeaahhh!" Joshua replied.

"I want you to go to the bog and fill two buckets with sphagnum moss."

Joshua grabbed the buckets and was off in a flash.  That gave ma all the
quiet time she needed to finish the job.

Out of the picture for the moment Jordan lay down on one of the beds.  His
mind wandered again to the Rose family.  Oh John he thought, where can you
be?  The noise in the cave began to fade.  He fell into a deep sleep.

The O'Reillys awoke the next morning to the sound of more cannon fire,
well, at least three of them did.  Jordan remained fast asleep.

"Land sakes," ma complained, "Just how long is this battle going to last?"

"I don't know ma," pa replied, "But I know we'll stay here until it's over.
I reckon it's as safe a place as any around here."

Pa did head out to the house for a while to tend to the animals.  He
brought back some fresh eggs and some milk.

As pa was to find out later the fighting was hot and heavy again that day.
Lee threw in all his reserves determined to break the back of the Union
Army. His forces attacked with great courage marching right into the
withering Union fire.  At one point a Major Pickett managed to withstand
the Union barrage and reached their line.  Hand to hand combat ensued.
Unfortunately the reinforcements lay dead or dying in the wheat field and
the Union line repulsed the attack.

Both sides suffered grevious losses in the three day battle. Over fifty
thousand men were killed or wounded in the battle.  It remains even today
as the greatest loss ever suffered by American forces in a single
battle. The Confederate forces retreated never to cross the Mason Dixon
line again.  It wasn't the end of the war but it was certainly the
beginning of the end.

Of course the O'Reillys knew none of this on the third day of the
battle. Pa was still deeply concerned that if the rebs won they and all the
good people of Gettysburg wouls fall under the control of the rebel forces.
He shuddered to think of it.

Jordan oened his eyes near noon.  He looked about the cave in a fruitless
search for John.  He knew he was hoping for a miracle.  Next he inquired as
to Andrew's health.  Ma relayed a report on his status as gently as she
could.

"It ain't good son.  He's restin some now but he is very weak.  His leg is
mangled something awful. His head is okay but I found a hunk of metal
stickin out of his side.  It has to come out or he'll die for sure. I'm not
a doctor son and right now Andrew needs one bad."

Jordan lay back own.  He had some heavy thinking to do.  He had risked life
and limb to save John. Now he was prepared to take the same risks to save
Andrew. A knowing grin gradually spread across his face.  He shot bolt
upright.  "Doctor Richards of course!  He promised me he would come if we
needed him.  All I have to do is ask!"

"Hold on son," pa interjected, "Before you get wound up like a jack rabbit
in heat you've got a few problems to think about.  First off until the
battle is over your mother and I absolutely forbid you to go gallivanting
about the countryside scaring the bejesus out of us again.  Second the
battle passed through the town of Gettysburg. I'll expect the town isn't
much more than smoking ruins by now.  There's a strong possibility your
doctor friend is dead.  Third even if he did survive I'm sure he's busy
saving Union lives.  He won't want to ignore them in order to save a reb."

Jordan knew his father was right.  "Damn war," he murmured to himself.

"I sue hope Ben is okay," ma added.

Pa tried to soothe her fears.  "Well he's gotten this far hasn't he.  I'm
sure he will survive this battle too."

Ma went back to her cooking.

Joshua was almost invisible.  With an injured soldier in their midst he
knew he had to tone down his natural enthusiasm.  The whole family was
proud of him.  Joshua was growing up!

Jordan spent much of the afternoon at at Andrew's bedside.  Only now in the
flickering light of the coal oil lamp did he realize how handsome he was.
He found he couldn't stop staring at his sparkling green eyes, his finely
chiseled nose and his ruby rose bud lips.  All of his features were
delicate and they reminded Jordan of a fine piece of china; the kind of
china ma only brought out when her very best friends came calling.

He felt his eyes beginning to water.  "Hang in here Andrew.  I'm going to
get a doctor for you. I promise!"

"Please hold my hand," Andrew whispered.

Jordan wrapped his hands around Andrew's much smaller hand.  Andrew's
fingers were tapered like those of a concert piano player and not at all
like those of a soldier in the midst of a battle. John was his first love
and Jordan felt he always would be.  However at this juncture he recognized
he had strong urgings for Andrew too.  He felt Andrew's vulnerability.

Andrew eventually stirred, opened his eyes, and declared, "I gotta pee."

Hearing Andrews statement ma handed Jordan an empty bottle.  He knew what
was expected of him.

Jordan carefully pealed back the blanket.  Ma had cleverly designed a very
loose bandage around the side wound.  The ugly gash was still weeping for
Jordan could see where ma had piled several bandages to catch the blood as
it fell.  Save for a small abrasion, his stomach and chest were free of
injury.  It seemed the exploding drum had taken much of the blow and had
prevented further insult to Andrew's body.  Jordan caught himself staring
at Andrew glistening in the light.  He pulled the blanket down further
revealing his mangled leg, now swaddled in a thick poultice containing the
moss that Joshua had found.

Carefully undoing the drawstrings of his underwear Jordan reached in and
withdrew a penis that was as delicate and perfect as the rest of his
features. He pushed the flacid organ into the mouth of the bottle.

"Okay Andrew," he said.

Jordan continued to hold Andrew's penis in place.  A yellow stream began to
fill the bottom of the bottle.  Jordan stared at the appendage and allowed
his fingers to run up and down the shaft a little. He could feeel his own
member begin to rise to the occasion. Andrew finished much too quickly for
Jordan's liking.  Using a thumb and finger he shook the penis to rid it of
that final drop.  Reluctantly Jordan returned it back into Andrew's
underpants. He sighed wistfully.

Ma soon insisted on taking Jordan's spot.  She lovingly ladled some soup
down Andrew' throat. Then she spent nigh on an hour changing every
bandage. A spare cotton sheet had been cut into strips giving ma lots of
ammunition to work with.

Ma and Jordan played musical chairs once more.  Jordan grasped Andrew's
hand anew.  They stayed that way into the early evening. Jordan could feel
himself begin to nod off for he hadn't completely overcome his sleep
deprivation.  He began to rise when Andrew spoke.

"Kiss me please," he said quietly.

Jordan smiled, bent over, and kissed him on the forehead.

"No, no, not like that," Andrew whimpered, "Do it like you done in the
field last night."

Jordan had no trouble recalling the fond encounter.  He bent over and this
time he kissed Andrew square on the lips.  He savored every morsel of the
kiss for he could feel Andrew's lips respond in kind.  They lingered there
for a few moments before separating.

Andrew smiled for the first time in the light of the lamp.  He smiled with
his eyes as well as his mouth. It made Jordan weak in the knees.

"That's better," Andrew whispered, "Now I know I will be okay until
morning." He closed his eyes.

Jordan soon joined him in slumber.

Several hours later a rough hand jostled Jordan.

"Wake up son. Wake up."

Jordan rose to a sitting position rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  "What's
up pa?  What's happening?"

"I just checked up the road some.  They're gone!"

"Who's gone pa?"

"The rebs son.  They're gone, every last one of them!  The battle is over!"



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