1861

oldmainer

cannon

Dust rises from the rutted road. Cannon laden caissons rumble slowly forward. A red sun competes with the campfires glow. Weary troops break camp, joining the ranks of colleagues on the move. An enemy, unseen, lays before them, waiting to exact a deadly blow.

Bellowed orders cut through the hushed encampment, bugles sound, urgency pervades. Battle lines are drawn, men marching, resolve and fear etched upon their hearts.

Artillery from behind sing the opening anthem. Flashes on the horizon acknowledging their song. In quickstep they press toward the waiting army, searching til they face the long gray line.

A fusillade rips through the forward soldiers, leaving death and carnage in its wake. A row of men drop in lines of destruction, their cries of pain soon muted by the battles call. Panicked faces seek cover as their Captains yell and threaten, urging them on.

Deadly canisters scream overhead, delivering their…

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About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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2 Responses to 1861

  1. Theresa says:

    Great post, oldmainer, from a Civil War buff. Keep an eye out for my Gettysburg posts July 1st-3rd.

    Like

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