"New moon coming," a gritty voice said from someplace
above us.
John looked about at his comrades, victims of the war, a war
that shouldn't have been. Then he glanced at himself: tattered and bloodied
Union uniform, missing arm, and broken leg. Sure, he was dead, but he still
had feeling and there was excruciating pain. Judgment of those in purgatory
was held in the dark of a new moon. He'd been waiting since Friday, February
13 and it was now the beginning of March with a new moon quickly approaching.
At last, his spirit could be set to rest and quit wandering the fields of
Fort Donelson.
* * * * *
John had joined the 76th Ohio Regiment during one of its major
recruitments and went to Camp Sherman at Newark, OH for a couple of month's
training. He remembered the start of this trip which began on February 9,
transporting down the Ohio River from Cincinnati to Paducah. He and his comrades
heard the great news regarding the capture of Fort Henry shortly after their
arrival at Paducah on February 11. With lifted spirits, John's regiment left
on February 13 to go up the Cumberland River to make an attack on Fort Donelson.
They reached their destination at sundown.
Men were detailed to stand guard on the line until morning
with shifts lasting two hours. It was cold and the new falling snow swirled
about John, chilling him so that even stamping his feet failed to keep him
warm. The almost full moon reflected on the snow to display the area between
him and Fort Donelson.
When he was relieved from watch he quickly hustled to the
bivouac which was behind the hilltop away from the enemy. Some men dared fires
for warmth and heating of water for broth. The captain suggested they not
have fire, but it was cold and the enemy was on the other side of the hill.
John and his buddy, Bill, stood near a fire, both leaning
on their rifles, hoping that some of the flames heat would penetrate and warm
their young bones before they turned in for the night.
A randomly shot shell by the rebels from Fort Donelson hit
three feet from John.
* * * * *
Demons moved about the gathered masses of the dead, shoving
those who didn't move from their path.
"What month is this?" a gravelly voice challenged
and echoed through the cavern. The largest of the beasts strode to the dais.
"March." The voice came from nowhere in particular
inside the huge chamber.
"Then I judge those who've entered since February's new
moon." The demon on the dais turned to face the lost souls and leered
at them menacingly. "I'll not be tricked by those who would try to sneak
through purgatory."
John moved forward, assisting Bill who had taken most of the
shell's damage.
"You there," the demon thrust a pointy nailed and
knarled finger at a person near John. "Did you not fail judgment in January?"
Suddenly a befuddled look struck the fiend and he cocked his
horned head in thought.
"Did I not judge in January?" he boomed to the assembly
and stomped across the dais.
"Yes," came the reply from his assistants.
"Did I not also judge in February?"
The silence echoed.
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