Confederate America
Chapter 3
The Beginning of the End
Montgomery or 'Monty' was tired. Four years. Four years of fighting against her brother, America, the northern part of the country. Monty was the south part and she could feel the lands burning like a brand on her skin. Especially, since Sherman was burning the fields in Georgia. She raged when that happened.
"General Jones."
A woman of about 17 or 18 years of age looked up. Her growth as a country has been fast. So fast that it was almost worrying. The war kept her mind off it. A country or a colony grows around a couple of years physically every 50-100 years, depending on their land. In the 45 years she's lived, she's grown 13 years.
Monty was clad in a Confederate Uniform, the General stripes on her shoulders and collar. Many questioned her rank indirectly, but not openly and not except for a select few knew her gender (those who did knew her country status). Her uniform was a pressed charcoal grey, though now it was wrinkled, slightly bloody, stained and ripped, her short brown hair ruffled.
She looked over his appearance, uniform and sword at his side, the blade in his scabbard. He never went anywhere without that thing. He had a white mustache and beard, brisk, but not too long along with white hair on his balding head. He knew of her status as a country. She smiled fondly from her spot in the plush chair, her shoulders a bit slouched. She straightened a little, hiding her wince. "General Lee."
He stood with his back straight, his head tilted in respect. She withheld the tired sigh wanting to escape. Even at the end, her general respected her. She smiled wryly. "You can sit, Robert."
He jolted a little at the use of his first name, but sat across her. She knew the inevitable. "Speak your mind, General."
His voice was grave. "This war is at an end and not in our favor either." His gaze looked over her and at the injuries she gained from the war. From the bandage on her forehead above her eyebrow. Another burn wound covered by a bandage on her neck and the many other burns and injuries unseen underneath her uniform. Mostly burns on her forearms and lower chest.
General Robert E. Lee scowled, hating what he had to say, especially in front of his personification. "We need to surrender."
Montgomery grimaced at the very thought. "Surrender to the North?" She wasn't a fool. She knew the statistics and the loses. She also was tired of fighting. 4 long years. She wasn't alive for it and never met the countries, but she wondered how England and France lasted the 100 year war she learned about. She couldn't imagine doing a century of this. She smirked bitterly. "You're not a fool." She shook her head. "Very well, do what you believe you must. Talk to your men."
"Thank you, General Jones." She had a feeling he was thinking about his daughter who died October 20, 1862. Close to when the war began. Of all the lives who were lost.
She looked past him, lost in thought. "This war was terrible. Father against son. Brother against brother." Brother against sister.
He stood, clasping a hand on her shoulder. She held back another wince. He said wisely. "'It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of it."
She smiled warmly, chuckling a little. "Wisely said, General Lee."
He removed his hand, his softer expression going stern and giving her a crisp salute, his back straightening. She returned his salute and he turned sharply on his heel, leaving the room. She gritted her teeth in pain and anger. Bitterness and shame. How could she face him, face Alfred. She cursed. "Dammit, Alfred! Looks like you won this one, brother." She pressed her lips together at the title.
She bowed her head, knowing she had to admit defeat. She fought America many times in this war, as displeased as she was at the outcome, she was glad it was over. She could feel the burning pain from the Union bastards burning her farms and homes in the Carolinas and Georgia, their lands, the plantations. Monty growled. "Damn Yankees!"
She could feel the pain and hated it. She mourned for her people and their suffering.
April 9th, 1865- Battle of the Appomattox, Noon
It was just after the 'Battle of the Appomattox Court House'. Monty's uniform was even more torn than before, she still had dirt on her face from the fighting. Currently, she and General Lee were on one side of the room. On the Union side, General Ulysses S. Grant and Alfred...America (or North as she was getting to call him in her head) were there. Along with a couple soldiers from both sides, both Union and Confederate.
General Lee finalized the surrender. Montgomery realized it was time to speak as the South's personification. She stiffened her back, managing to keep her pride as much as possible. "I agree with General Lee's surrender. The South will be joined back with the North."
Soldiers from both sides cheered, relief plain on their faces. Monty smiled slightly, despite the defeat clinging to her shoulders, she wished for her soldiers to have peace. She could feel her brother's gaze, but ignored it as best as she could. She couldn't even think about looking at him.
General Grant explained all the terms. The Confederate soldiers would be pardoned, officers would get to keep their arms and the starving Confederates would be given rations from the Union. It was the truth of it, one of the reasons a surrender had to happen. Her men were starving. Monty didn't doubt that not all the fighting would stop yet, even if the war was officially over. She couldn't help, but feel a little smug about it even as exhausting as the war was.
After paperwork was finalized on the surrender (by both her and Lee) most of the room left. Lee clasped her shoulder before leaving. Monty smiled a little. She would visit him in the future, even with the war over. There was an awkward silence between the two halves of the country. One that never happened before the war started. They were a couple feet from each other, both standing and facing each other. Monty absentmindedly rubbed her hurting side.
America winced, he knew she had to have many wounds. He had wounds, but with her losses, she's have more. He sighed, wishing he could be his happier self. "Monty..."
Her head finally snapped up, eyes angry. "No! Don't call me that!"
America's lips pressed together. "Fine, Montgomery. The war is over."
That angered Monty, with him brushing off her hard fighting and her loss like this. Her eyes were blazing. "You happy you won, huh?! You want to brag about how much I lost and ya won!?" Her southern twang came out in her anger.
America frowned, the unfamiliar expression becoming familiar as of late. "No, but like I said, it's over. You're going to stay angry at me, Jules? I'm your brother."
She flinched hard at the human nickname he gave her and his reminder of what he was to her. In that moment, the anger left her and she leveled him with a tired look. "And you talk to England, don't you?"
"Monty..." He trailed off with a flinch.
Montgomery didn't react to the nickname this time, ignoring the ball of guilt in her chest. Anger she clung to, anger was easier and hurt less. She scoffed. "I mean, after the Revolutionary War, when you left him crying in the mud on his knees. Or when he burned your capital down in 1814 alongside Canada!"
America's brow furrowed, the first signal of anger on his face. "Watch it, Montgomery. You started this war. Are you mad the slaves are free?"
She flushed bright red, all the way down to her neck, ducking her head. "...No, I'm not. They deserve the same as my white citizens."
America grinned for the first time in a while. "See, so-"
"But I don't want to see you unless I have to or live with you. End of this war or not." She turned her back to him, getting ready to leave the room, emotionally drained. "I'll accept you, no rebellions out of me, I promise you. But brother or not, I will still live on my own, giving myself that freedom."
She felt the pain of her wounds and the shame welling in her gut.
America's face fell. It was just like with England, except this time he was the older brother. And it hurt, it hurt a lot... "Julia..."
"Goodbye, Alfred. If you need me for country business, you know how to contact me." She decided to use his human name and not by his personification. Also, calling him 'America' was a little strange. She left the room, shutting the door behind her. She felt the longing for her brother, a small part of her hoping whatever happened, they'd be close again. America felt the same. They would need to be with each other at times because they were both halves of one country. But it would be painful.
But both America and Montgomery fixed smiles on their faces and kept going.