July 2nd 1863

Confederate Camp

Morning

The Englishman, Henry learned one bright and hot July morning, was a bit chattery in the morning. It threw Henry off, since he was, nor ever will be, a morning person, and the coffee that he was sipping on was far from drinkable. Henry was chatting with Major Sorrel about the times before the war and such, when the Englishman arrived, bright and chipper.

"Major Sorrel, sir! Good morning! I say, could you direct me to the battle?"

Henry chuckled into his 'coffee', as Sorrel, neat and natty, stood, smiling brightly and bowing at the waist.

"Would you care for a bite to eat before the assault? We can serve Yankees done to order, before or after breakfast." Sorrel glanced down at Henry. "Uh, beggin' your pardon, Mr. Phillips."

"No. I like to think that I would taste quite well when roasted and served with a bit of garlic sauce."

The two in front of him gave an uncomfortable chuckle. Freemantle cut himself to yawn, politely smothering it with his hand. When he was finished, the man said, "I suppose there is time for a bun or two. How's General Longstreet this morning? My compliments and I trust he slept well."

"Doubt if he slept at all. He's gone over to speak with General Lee."

Henry sighed through his nose, not looking at the men in front of him as he asked, "Does he ever sleep? It's kind of amazing, since I've never seen him actually sit down."

Major Sorrell cocked a smile. There was a bird, annoyed that it had been woken up really early (Henry was right along with it, to be honest), began chattering in the tree above the trio. Henry sighed as he relished in the community that had started to gather around him, Major Sorrell and Colonel Freemantle. It felt strange, the atmosphere that was sparked at breakfast as more and more men gathered for something to eat. A light and happy affair this morning was, despite the threat of battle and death that loomed just a few hours ahead of them. Henry sipped his coffee as he reexamined the air. There was an air of regret at the table, a sense of seize the day, as if these bright moments of good fellowship before battle were numbered, that the war would soon be over and all this would end and….they would all go back to duller pursuits of peace.

Henry blinked as he set his coffee cup down and took a deep breath. Peace…..

It was a word that his family were complete alien to. They never knew true peace, only a lull in the ages-long fight that had plagued the shadows of the world. Henry hoped that some of these men, these fresh-faced boys and young men that were laughing and enjoying life at that moment, would live to see the next sunrise.

"Mister Phillips?"

Henry blinked. Colonel Freemantle was looking at him with this sort of funny look, one that suggested he had been speaking to him for a while, but he had been too distracted by his own morbid and depressing thoughts to pay attention. He snapped his mind back to reality.

"Yes, Colonel Freemantle?"

"Would you care to join Major Sorrell and I? We are going to the front lines, to see about the view. Would you wish to join us?"

He smiled. "Yes. I would."

Henry downed the last bit of his "coffee" before standing, joining the two men as they made their way across the green to where the horses were being kept. Once their steeds were chosen and the three of them mounted, they rode out at a trot through a grove of trees to higher ground. They passed some poor unburied souls rotting away in the summer heat, the remnants of the first day of the battle here at Gettysburg. Henry said a soft prayer for their souls before turning his eyes to the blue ridge that was laid out before them to the east, soft in the morning haze, where the Yankees were kept. While he couldn't see any movements or troops from where he was, Henry could practically feel his sister's presence on the other side of that vast, green field.

His fingers tightened on the reins as they passed a battery of Southern artillery, mixed Napoleons and Parrots, served by wagons stamped USA.

Major Sorrell noticed him staring and said, "We get most of our wagons from the enemy. Many of the guns. Their artillery is very good. But ours will get better."

Henry gave the curtsey of a smile. His eyes, however, remained fixed on the horizon. He sighed before turning towards the gathering of men, too many men if you asked him. Sorrell made a suggestion to the British Colonel that if he wished for a better view, he should find a convenient tree. Henry followed him through the cool shade, though the humidity unfortunately did not go away. The two wandered forward, through the cool woods, to the same commanding position Colonel Freemantle had the day before, stopping beneath a wide oak. Henry spotted Longstreet not fifty feet away from them, with Lee standing by his side. He recognized the atmosphere that surrounded the group of officers, as officers in consultation.

The Old General, Henry noted mentally, was standing with his back to the group, bareheaded and gazing out towards the Union Lines. His white hair flickered in the breeze as he gazed solemnly to the east.

"He's quite the man, isn't he?" Freemantle whispered, almost in reverence.

Henry glanced towards the Englishman, before returning his gaze to General Lee, who had placed his field glasses to his eyes. "That he is."

The two men watched the group of officers mingled and discussed the day's plan in silence. There was a breeze that would blow by, a stale breeze that didn't do anything to cool either of them down. Henry spotted someone whom he didn't recognize was sitting on a stump next to Longstreet, whittling, a tall thin man with an extraordinary face, with eyes that had a cold glint in them, sitting as erect as he could while doing his whittling.

Freemantle probably spotted him, as he asked, "Who is that?"

A young man, Lawley, who had joined the two men suddenly perked up. "That's Hood. John Bell Hood. They call him 'Sam', I think. He commands one of Longstreet's divisions. From Texas, I believe."

Henry cocked an eyebrow. "Does his behavior in battle match his appearance?"

"He does his job." Lawley said laconically.

"An interesting army," Freemantle muttered, "Most interesting."

Henry sighed through his nose, tuning out the chatter between Lawley and Freemantle, and instead turning towards his own inner thoughts.

An army of farmers…up against an army that was better trained, better equipped and outnumbered and outgunned them by a million.

It almost seemed like they were living in another Revolutionary War, but why fight this ghastly thing? The people here had lives that were better spent feeding their families then fighting a war.

"You know, I realized…..something the other day."

Henry blinked, pulling himself back into the presence again.

"This is the most interesting army that I've seen."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Virginia gentlemen fighting alongside Texas frontiersmen, and bayou bushwhackers from Louisiana Drawn together from across a continent." He shifted in the saddle. "Having travled a good piece of it myself, I feel apart or almost a member of this enterprise at least."

Henry nodded absently.

"You know, you call yourselves Americans, but you're really just transplanted Englishmen. Look at your names: Lee, Hood, Longstreet, Jackson, Stuart, Phillips, even." There was a twinkle in the Colonel's eyes, almost as though he knew something. The twinkle lasted a moment before it disappeared, and the man continued, "The same God. Same language. Same culture and history, Same songs, stories, legends, myths. It's so sad, so very sad."

Henry couldn't help agree.

"If you don't mind me saying, good sir, I honestly hope that we shall become allies with the Confederacy."

"Your government would never ally itself with a Confederacy that had the institution of slavery. You know that and so do I." Henry glanced back, only to see the man's face fall in a solemn thought. He sighed as he shifted in his seat. The feeling in his stomach increased as he continued to watch the generals move about.

Lord, watch over us today, He prayed. Keep all of us safe from the future that You have planned and help us understand Your will. Keep Margaret safe from harm, wherever she might be.

Longstreet and several other generals approached him and Freemantle. His face was lined and tired. "Gentlemen? If you don't mind to follow me, I would like to take you up to the front line. We're about to start."

Henry nodded hesitantly before he dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to a private. With Freemantle a couple of steps in front of him conversing with General Longstreet, Henry followed.

A new day has started, but who knew who would be around to see it end.

AN: Sorry for the inconsistent updates guys! I've started a new job and just got done with training! Thank you for your patience!