I met Washington Perry on the day he died; that is to say that I began coming to know him that day, though I had first made his acquaintance 3 weeks prior. Truth be told, I did not have many interactions with him – far fewer than one might expect as soldiers of the same company.
Our Union troop was battle worn by the time Washington joined our ranks (with special permission from the General) in Mid-March of 1862. We had taken heavy casualties in the Battle of XXXXXX and the entire company had been whittled down to no more than 2 dozen men. With such small numbers, a man has got to go out of his way to not interact with another soldier – but I did my damndest.
There was t something about him I could not stomach. I knew nothing about him personally, but what I could see about him told me everything I needed to know. I thought to myself, “you just don’t see niggers joining up with the Union Army every day” at least not that early in the war. And to say he, “joined up” is not totally true since he didn’t have a uniform, firearm, or provisions provided by the quartermaster. As far as I was concerned, he was “just some nigger on the run looking for protection in the rank and file of honest men like me;” or so I thought.
I didn’t understand this man, this scoundrel, this …show more content…
It was enough to boil my blood. What if it had been my father who had been so wronged? Could I sit by idly, as all my fellow soldiers have done, content to watch this criminal infiltrate the ranks of the great Union Army with a clever song, a jaunty dance, or witty joke? Beguiling the company, as he must have done the General, into the damnable belief that he is rightly
Our Union troop was battle worn by the time Washington joined our ranks (with special permission from the General) in Mid-March of 1862. We had taken heavy casualties in the Battle of XXXXXX and the entire company had been whittled down to no more than 2 dozen men. With such small numbers, a man has got to go out of his way to not interact with another soldier – but I did my damndest.
There was t something about him I could not stomach. I knew nothing about him personally, but what I could see about him told me everything I needed to know. I thought to myself, “you just don’t see niggers joining up with the Union Army every day” at least not that early in the war. And to say he, “joined up” is not totally true since he didn’t have a uniform, firearm, or provisions provided by the quartermaster. As far as I was concerned, he was “just some nigger on the run looking for protection in the rank and file of honest men like me;” or so I thought.
I didn’t understand this man, this scoundrel, this …show more content…
It was enough to boil my blood. What if it had been my father who had been so wronged? Could I sit by idly, as all my fellow soldiers have done, content to watch this criminal infiltrate the ranks of the great Union Army with a clever song, a jaunty dance, or witty joke? Beguiling the company, as he must have done the General, into the damnable belief that he is rightly