The Special Bullet's Face
as a child my father told me magnificent stories of war, stories where men would run out into the field yelling as loud as they can to die in honour of what they believed in or go home as heroes. He said that these men were brave and fearless. as i grew older i realized that war was necessary to protect the things that you believe in and to protect the things that you hold near and dear to your heart. little did i know that those things are not as necessary as we think. i enlisted into the confederate army on june 11th of 1863. i enlisted to become the hero my father talked about when i was a boy, by the time i actually got to see any action i had marched all the way to gettysburg pennsylvania from a small…show more content… i was forced to dig 3 mass graves and had many of my friends die from diseases. the bodies of the deceased had been more mutilated than i had ever seen before, broken arms, broken legs, exit wounds the size of my fist shredded from a new kind of ammunition and burnt from the gunpowder coming out of the end of the rifles. each war torn cotton field i walked through was dyed red, all i could smell was decomposing flesh mixed with burnt gunpowder and the occasional union soldier moaning for help. we had been given orders to proceed marching to gettysburg, and at this point i didnt want to fight i wanted to go home where i was safe and didnt have to see these “heroes” who were honored for doing these horrific things. as the days went on we were getting closer and closer to gettysburg. we arrived at the field on july 1st 1863 the union attacked us from the side killing many of our men we fought back and we fought hard screaming, crying, blood and death the sounds of the guns, cannons and men could be heard from miles around. we pushed them back and they pushed us forward. we soon cornered them on a fence line as we fired upon them behind the