Shun

Alice the morning after our night together; she stated that it was urgent that she get a move on and head up to Kentucky as Grant had instructed her. I hadn't protested, even thought I kind of wanted to, for I had no idea when I might see her again, if ever.

I recalled how the night before I made the promise that after the war, I'd find her. There was no telling how long that could take; she could have gone anywhere in the North during the current time and whenever the war ended. But if Dan could make a nearly impossible promise and keep it, then so could I, right?

For the time being, I was back at the camp, awaiting our next orders. It felt like after the bloody events of the Chattanooga Campaign, battles had started to erupt all over the South, and they were in full swing. I didn't have much knowledge of how they were going at the time, but I knew that there would be letters sent to Grant shortly after the battles, telling their outcomes.

To pass the time until orders came in, I walked around the camp, paying attention to details that I hadn't noticed till now. Such details like the expressions of some of the soldiers. Some of their faces were blank, and rather difficult to read, but others were like open books.

You could see in their eyes that many of them were here fighting for something, whether it be their freedom, or to protect their home from possible Confederate dominance. As I saw this, I couldn't help but wonder if I was the open book, or the unreadable one.

Up until now, I hadn't had anything to fight for back home, and still didn't. But with Alice clearly in the picture now, I had a reason to keep fighting and making sure that I stayed alive till the end of the war, for I was going to do everything in my power to keep my promise. Suddenly, a hand slammed down on my shoulder, startling me and causing me to jump a bit.

When I turned around to see who it was, I saw it had been Dan. "Hey, buddy. How's it going?" he asked and took his hand off of my shoulder, then stepped in front of me. I shrugged and said, "Alright, I guess." He then draped his arm over my shoulder and had a sly look in his eyes.

Dan then said to me, "You know, I haven't really seen you around the camp since Alice showed up here last month. You've gotten all shady. Must've been some night." He raised his eyebrows a bit as he continued to pry. I cut him and glare and told him, "Regardless, it's none of your concern."

Dan took his arm off of my shoulders and laughed a bit. "Aw, now, come on. I'm just picking on ya, Shun. Can you blame me? I mean, my friend's finally growing up," he said with a sly grin and nudged me a bit. My glare at him only intensified, but I also felt my face heat up a bit, which fueled my momentary anger towards the ignorant brunette.

I stepped away from him and said flatly, "Don't get mad at me if I trip you on the next battlefield." Dan rolled his eyes and told me, "You wouldn't do that to me…..Right?" I grinned evilly and started to walk off, leaving Dan behind me. I heard him yell at me, "You really wouldn't do that, right? Come on, Shun! Tell me!"

I turned down another row of tents, making sure that I was out of Dan's sight; I was going to let his paranoia eat at him for a bit as a means of revenge. But I was surprised when I encountered one of Jones' old 'friends.' It was Mathis, who might as well been a carbon copy of Jones before he betrayed us.

The oily, black-haired man was helping fix a fallen tent, and when he got the last stake in the ground, he glanced over and saw me. I had a special hatred for this guy, for he had tried to help Jones hurt Alice a while back. But after Jones' betrayal, we all began to notice that Mathis acted differently.

Although, that didn't completely change my outlook on him; he still tried to hurt Alice, and that was all I needed to see what kind of person Mathis was. "Morning," he said calmly as he wiped the dirt off his hands and onto his pants. "Morning," I replied flatly.

There had been one time when Mathis and my group of friends had actually spoken to each other like civilized people, and that was only because we were helping load supplies to be sent to a nearby battle. On any other occasion, things might have turned ugly.

I started to walk past Mathis, but stopped when he said, "Still pissed at me for what Jones and I did to your little friend. I don't blame you," he told me. For a second, I thought I had picked up a hint of regret and guilt in his voice. I turned around and said stoically, "Quite. You tried to hurt somebody that was defenseless, and you all seemed mighty proud of it."

Mathis sighed and told me, "Trust me, pal, I've done a many of thing I'm not proud of. What Jones tried to get us to do to that girl, is no exception either." I turned so my back would face the oily-haired man. "So, why'd you do those things then if they brought so much guilt to you?" I asked harshly, but still kept my voice calm.

The last thing I needed to do was lose my temper in the camp and start something that I didn't want to finish. Mathis told me, "I was forced into it. During these kinds of things, the strong normally survive. So, it only made sense for me to be around those that would most likely make it out of the war, even if that meant doing a few things along the way to hold my place within the group."

It made sense when I thought about it. Jones was strong, and obviously skilled in fighting, making him all the more likely to make it out of a battle. And when compared to somebody like Joe, who should have been killed after the first or second battle, this survival of the fittest theory made all the more sense.

Mathis shook his head and told me, "All I'm trying to do is right what wrongs I've sewn, before they all catch up to me." I couldn't help but wonder what had given Mathis such a sudden change of heart over what he has done, but it then hit me; he hadn't really wanted to do any of those things.

It was only a means to make it back to his home, and most likely back to a family he had left behind in the war. With that realization in my mind, I found it rather difficult to hold onto all of my hatred for Mathis, but some of it was still there.

His apologies didn't change the fact that he tried to hurt Alice, despite whether or not he was doing it to make sure he made it out of the war. I finally said, "You can ask for forgiveness all you want, and people may forgive you as well, but that doesn't change their memories of what you've done in their lives.

The world is filled with hollow words. Keep that in mind before you go and take them to heart." With that being said, I continued on down the rows of tents, leaving Mathis where I had found him. Behind me, I didn't hear him say another word, and I had a feeling that my words had offered him a realization into how the world really worked.

In a way, I didn't want any tragedies to befall him during the war; I didn't want any to befall anyone else, for that matter. So much life had already been lost and altered, and any more would just be one too many. But if fate was going to get Mathis back for the crimes he committed, then so be it. Who was I to try and alter fate?

Shun

Towards the end of the month, Grant got word of how things had gone in several battles in the South. As I had previously stated, it felt like an explosion of battles broke out during the month of February, and I had not been over-exaggerating.

Sherman, who had been sent off for battle back in Mississippi at the beginning of the month, had taken the city of Meridian, and word was that they were hard at work dismantling the railroad lines and destroying trains as a means to help cripple the supply lines to the Confederates fighting elsewhere.

Winning the Battle of Meridian had brought forth a bit of an advantage to the Union, but it seemed like the North had lost more battles this month than any other time, such as the Battle of Okolona and the First Battle of Dalton. There had been heavy bloodshed at those two, and the Union had been given no choice but to retreat.

Although, there apparently was a more major loss that we suffered from; the Battle of Olustee in Florida. The Confederates had total control over Florida, and the Union had their eyes set on the state. But once there, it was clear that the Union wasn't going to be able to take it, no matter what they did.

And this proved to be true, for even one of the iron-clad warships of the Union had been sunk, which was of much of a surprise to Grant. I could feel the doubt starting to creep along our Union camp. What if the tides were turning for the Rebels, and everything up until now had been a fluke?

We can't start thinking like that, I told myself, for I knew that if those thoughts took hold of the camp, then we would end up losing the war for real. I walked past Grant's tent. He was standing outside, Sherman with him from where he had returned from the Meridian Campaign.

I had to admit, Sherman was intimidating, not only on a battlefield, but also in person. He and Grant were talking, and I caught bits of their conversation. "We're going to have to start cracking down on battle techniques and strategy. No more of this running into battle blindly," Sherman said sternly.

Grant nodded. "I agree, William. It's time to start cracking down on our fighting style….We can't afford to lose this war. Not after how far we've come along in it," Grant said flatly.

Before I was seen eavesdropping on the General's conversation, I left and started to head back towards my tent, unable to shake the feeling that some major changes were about to come to our camp, and the rest of the Union at that.

baaaack (on this story at least). i hope everyone had an awesome, and safe, Christmas! check out my poll please! read, review, and other things. ~Copperpelt~