Okay, this is a project I've been slowly working on that started towards the end of last summer after taking a wonderful, but heartbreaking trip to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The concept of Hiccup in the American Civil War had bounced around in my head for a couple of years now. It was hard to conceive a plot to include the themes from How to Train Your Dragon and I'm not entirely convinced that I can connect these two different things together. So I just took some similarities, tried to apply in historically and hopefully, it'll do something good. So, the story deviates from the plot most of the time but I've snuck in a few familiar things.

Also, there is going to be a lot of mature themes (not exactly sexual) but this story will heavily touch on the War and the causes of War itself. Keep in mind, I am nowhere near a professional Historian but I have tried to make this as true as possible and I do have some credibility, albeit limited, because I have studied the American Civil War my entire life, I am a History major who has taken a recent course in African American History and I am fully aware that I am tackling a very touchy subject and I hope that I do not offend anyone. Nonetheless, with a lot more to learn about being a professional Historian, if I wrote something completely out of line, please alert me so. I repeat, I DO NOT MEAN TO OFFEND ANYONE!

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this story and please review it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and greatly appreciated as it will help me in ways to improve this story and to improve my skills as a writer in historical fiction.

And one last thing, with the year now 2015, At this time, 150 years ago, 1865 would mark the last year of the bloody American Civil War.

Happy New Years!

~Soldier78~

What They Did

Summer, 1866.

Berk, New York

A Note from the Hero:

There were soldiers when I was a boy. There was the New York Militia which my father, Lt. Sean "Stoick" Haddock led a fraction of these brave men. In his free time, he'd reside in Berk, a small town just a little south from the big city. He was friends with his Sgt. Gilbert "Gobber" Belchan, a Scot and his brother-in-law, and my uncle, was 2nd Lt. Torsten "Spitelout" Jorgenson. So, I practically grew up around the military lifestyle.

Then came the Secession in 1861. I was just 18 at the time, just the right age to enlist. In the beginning, I wanted to enlist, I wanted to prove to my father that I wasn't a terrible son. I wanted to prove to him that I could become a soldier just like him. Yet, I had some doubts after the newspapers started to report heavy losses at Bull Run, Virginia and Wilson's Creek, Missouri.

My name is Henry, er, Hiccup, Haddock. Great name I know, but it isn't the worst. Some say that hideous names will ward of your enemies, like those rebels down south. Like our charming Irish demeanor wouldn't do that already. Yet, I'm not the greatest fit boy in the world either. It is also tradition, at least in this community, to call the runt of the litter, a hiccup, and…I guess that's what I kind of am, or was at the time. No one thought that I'd become a soldier, nonetheless, an officer by the end of the war.

But it did happen, and it's a story that I would like to share whether it is just a curious descendent of mine or some American Civil War enthusiast who reads this work.

I guess the good place to start is putting it in the context of the time.

After seven southern states, beginning with South Carolina in December, 1860, seceded from the United States to become their own government, things grew much more intense between the two governments. The South declared themselves in a new nation after President-elect, Abraham Lincoln, won the 1860 National Election, the south said that Lincoln was a tyrant because he spoke out against slavery. The northern states were trying to prevent the expansion of Slavery, a sickening practice that, in hindsight, is the only difference between the Union and the Confederacy.

By April of that same year, a total of eleven states made up the Confederate States of America, all slave states. Clearly, that angered us and the United States Government did not recognize the new nation. And so, on April, 12th, 1861, a prompted Confederate garrison fired upon our flag at Ft. Sumter, beginning what would be a horribly, bloody four years that touched every single one of us whether we were Union or Confederate.

Now, it is September, 1861, Lincoln has issued a call for more volunteers after the failure at Bull Run, reports of casualties count at least over 4,000. No other battle, this civil war or past engagements, exceeded this mark. Recruitments stations are popping up like rabbits in nearly every town and city, men are rushing to join the ranks, to fight for the cause, to preserve the Union! And, for some of us, also to emancipate the slaves.

After Ft. Sumter, Dad was serviced to Washington with the New York Militia. They saw action at Bull Run. It seems that Bull Run quashed the idea that this rebellion wasn't going to be a short three-month confrontation, at least in the North. Dad's back now with intentions to enlist in the Regular Army. Many of the boys from the New York Militia are re-enlisting into Federal regiments, one of them would be the 69th New York, my unit.

Even in Berk, boys from all over flooded the station and signed up. They hopped on horse-drawn carts, waving to the women and children they're leaving behind, waving their hats in the air with whooping pride as they begun the road to become soldiers. It grieves me to think about that happy day when hundreds of boys flocked the stations, only to have so few return to their home after their papers were done.

So, with now caught up to the moment of my enlistment, here begins my own recollection of an adventure that taught me many things about becoming a man but also, taught me about the true horrors of war. Even General William T. Sherman had said "War, at best, is barbarism."

It was. It is.

This is the story of becoming a soldier, the Hard Way.