The Diary Of A Confederate

The Diary Of A Confederate

A Story by Napoleon has returned
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Relive the horrors of The American Civil War through the eyes of the side we were taught to hate in school.

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THE DIARY OF ADAM WILKINS



March 14th, 1860


I’ve heard rumours that Lincoln was going to start another war on our soil. Turns to be those rumours ain’t lying for nothing. I reckon, that well, if the North believes that we ain’t good for nothing, not to become a single nation, then I reckon a proper fight is the only way. My brother and I are going to volunteer for the 2nd South Carolina Brigade. I’ve heard from my pals that the military life is good fun and adventure. Well, I can’t wait to have the other end of my rifle on a dirty Yankee.


March 16th, 1860


My brother and I went down to the post here in our town and signed up. My father ain’t speaking’ to us the entire day. He said that war ain’t any fun, and told us something about his old days in the navy. Looks like his his stories have made me want to go even more. I told him that our 3 month contract had been signed, and there ain’t nothing to stop it. He slammed his fist on the table and walked away to bed. The training begins in 5 months.


August 12th, 1860


Dear Mother and father,

My brother John and I took the steam engine down to ol’ Mississippi. A whole bunch of other young men, lads fourteen and fifteen ready to fight for the South. We headed out of the engine and the first thing I noticed was the big ol sun in Missi. Sure was devilish, nobody soul lying about it. John won’t shut up about the heat, his mouth bigger than the sun itself.  A man in a grey suit and cap walked outta the camp grounds. Tents’ so small a dog could crawl through em, them Yankees jested. He shouted formations and we all lined up in single file. Gonna write later, he’s comin my way.


August 15th, 1860


Dear Mother and father,

It’s been three whole days and nobody here's touched a gun. My fingers been itching to touch the smooth barrel of an Enfield. All we’ve been doing is some running and drills. Food here is horrible and scarce, water is not discluded. Men been shouting get whipped and forced to run 10 extra kilometres. Marching is every single day, the sound of the drums been painful to my ears. Another month of this gonna drive me insane.


August 30th, 1860


Dear Mother and father,

It’s been two whole weeks here in camp. Sleepin’ is horrible. Yankee rumors don’t lie; The tents hardly cover the sun’s merciless heat. Don’t know what’s gonna kill me first, the sun or a Northerner. John and I are fine, but Johns big mouth aint. He’s getting whipped almost every day and runs 15 extra kilometres in the field. We’ve done the firing drills. All mighty fun, except for the horrid smell of the smoke. Made myself some friends, William and Billy. They both been fighting for the same cause, brave men of the south. Lieutenant telling us that we almost ready for the first battle.


April 10th, 1861


Dear Mother and father,

Two days ‘till the battle. Pierre Beauregard is going to be leading the armies into Fort Sumter, our homeland. It’s about time to kill some Yankees. Johns thinking the same, he can’t stop ranting about the day.


April 12th, 1861


Dear Mother and father,

The march to the battlefield gave me blisters on my feet, and the music and drums forced us all in line. The shrieking fifes played the tune of ‘The Yellow Rose Of Texas’, father’s favourite. Only this time it wasn’t a dinner song, it was a march to death. We weren’t the prettiest bunch, there ain't no proper uniform for us. Half of our bunch didn’t even have enough ammunition to kill 10 men. Rain pounding hard back at home, worried me sick that the water would dry our ammunition. The boys didn’t have a look of fear, they were battle ready. The wet grass soaked water to my socks. We could see em Yankees over the hill, and hear their piercing fife and beating drums. A cloud of smoke arose from the tip of it, and 4 men of my line fell dead. It was then I was scared to my bones. Death was a strange sight, the men stopped movin, frozen in time and then collapsed forwards, their muskets dropping behind them. More men filled the gaps in between the dead men. We fired back at them, and them distant figures we saw falling. They retreated and our brigade gave a mighty yell. John and I were fine, apart from several scratches from debris. We marched back to our camp, and waited for tomorrow's attack on the fort. It wasn’t a pleasure to sleep last night, men were all awake thinking about the next day.



April 13th, 1861


Dear Mother and father,

Woke up real early in the morning for the next day in the battle. John's been awfully quiet for the past day, after the men who died dropped around him. By the sun’s early dawn we marched out to the fort, where artillery pounded the field around us. As we neared closer the cannonballs got bigger until they broke the brigade next to ours. The men scattered and screamed as they fell and blew in halves. We were on an island, a couple miles away from the fort over water. We fired guns and cannons towards the fort, and they fired back. In the return fire, William was killed. There wasn’t any time to save him. The battle lasted for 10 hours, and in the end we won with a great payment. The North had retreated from South Carolina but souls



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Added on June 27, 2017
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Tags: civil war, history, musket, napoleon, ww2, ww1

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Napoleon has returned
Napoleon has returned

Toronto, Richmond Hill, Canada



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Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these. But of all the world's great heroes, there's none that can compare. With a tow, row, row, row, ro.. more..

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