Remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice for the freedoms and rights that we enjoy on this Memorial Day weekend!
July 12, 1861
Dear Mom,
It’s been so long since I’ve heard from you, all the way in California. I hope you and dad are still healthy and kicking butt. Thanks a lot for the that huge yellow scarf you got me. I had no need for it back at home, but here, up North, it’s one of my top ten most needed items. Try to say hi to our neighbors for me if you can. You know, like old Kingsley, Ms. Patty...... and the dog, Bonny. I miss everything there.
You know about the war that’s brewing, right? Everyone’s taking sides, North or South. I am supporting the North, just like you told me. Now I see the sense in your reasons about not helping slavery continue. I mean, African American people are still people. We can’t just let them continue to be treated like animals. I have a new friend, Billy, who’s from a rich South Carolina plantation family. He and one of his brothers came up to support the North, and he’s told me the truth about the slavery in the South. Billy says that his dad is a harsh man, and deaths among the South’s slaves were common. As far as Billy could remember, six slaves have died on his family’s plantation, four from infections due to beating, and two from disease. I know this isn’t happy talk, but I just thought you’d like to know that I am more assured about the choice we made in this war.
For the past six months, I have been working at the main telegraph station where President Lincoln and his advisors send messages to the Union’s field commanders. Usually, the messages are about the overall strategies of which towns to take and things like that. President Lincoln seems like a nice enough man, although he always has a lot of information for us to tell the field commanders, keeping us working most of the time. The amount of work pressed upon us was to the #1 reason I couldn’t write to you sooner. But still, the pay is surprisingly good, as I am one of the primary telegraphers, and the load has slackened, as the oncoming battle is Bull Run, one that every Union general thinks is going to be an easy victory. By the time you receive this letter, Bull Run will most likely have been already won.
I am feeling conflicted about joining the Army. I have seen many headstrong, impulsive young men charge off into war, swayed by experienced officers’ speeches. The speeches talk about none of war’s bloodiness, pain, and discomfort. They only talk about killing successfully, hardening your personality, and getting educated about “important things.” But even though these inspiring speeches got my spirits pumped up, my feelings toward war changed after the excitement of the speech subsided. I think about peaceful debates between the North and South, instead of solving problems by going onto the battlefield. Why does everyone have to go for a violent approach when people disagree on something? But even though all my instincts and common sense tell me not to embrace the unorthodox method of war, the idea of signing up to be a soldier has its merits. Almost all my friends have signed up except for Joe, only because he was too fat to join. And shouldn’t I support my side by bearing up arms too? I know that telegraphing for President Lincoln and the Union Army is a good, non-violent way of serving the North already; it just does not seem to be exciting enough for me to see myself as patriotic. I am struggling over this hard decision. I hope you can give me some help on this issue, Mom.
I really hope that this war won’t be long and bloody, and that it will blow over soon. I just want the Union to get a swift victory over the Rebels and end slavery once and for all. This war definitely seems easy for us, don’t you think, Mom? I mean, the Union’s got the numbers and the equipment. Well, enough of this war talk. It’s almost time to fill in the shift for my fellow telegrapher, who is in bed with a bad cold. Hopefully I can get you guys to move over here to the East when this hostility is over. I can’t wait to see you and dad again!
Love,
Charles