DESTINATION CLIFFORD

Looking around, it suddenly hit me. I was the only NCO left alive. I was the ranking person. I was it. It was my duty to save what little there was left of this once fine artillery detachment. This unit and the men involved had served so well over the past years; had done so much when called upon in so many battles and skirmishes, never failing. Now it was down to twenty or so men with two guns and a supply wagon with only a portion of the ammunition normally available.

The war must surely be in its closing days. Would I be able to survive until the end? General Lee couldn't possibly hope to continue on and win. The Confederate States of America had attempted to win its difference with the Federals, but their abilities had been exhausted. There weren't any more resources available to wage such a conflict. There were no more allies to come to our aid. Our ports were blockaded, which shut down help from overseas. Further efforts to continue this conflict would appear to be futile. It would seem we were whipped. Just look at this once proud unit, only a few men remaining out of over a 120 on the original roster. No food, few shoes, no warm clothes to keep the rain off, a desperate group to say the least.

Not too many choices left at this juncture. We could sit down here on this lonely road and wait for the enemy to capture us. Or, we could all scatter and each try to find their way home. If given the opportunity, many of these boys might select one of these options. But, I wasn't going to give them the chance.

I didn't come into this army to sit down and wait for capture. My daddy has given his blood twice, and my older brother has a wounded head to show for his efforts. Too many Virginians have given their lives for the cause, including my brother Ben. I'm a Virginian and to the best of my knowledge, we aren't quitters. I know for sure the McGradys aren't, and I'm not ready to be the first one who does. Let me get this group together and move out of this place.