A Tragedy
Author: *P.S.ILoveYou*

Chapter 2
~A Tragedy Chapter Two~

General Frank T. Greger-Union Officer

"Hey you! Blondie!" A drunken Yankee called. "Wanna dance pretty girl?"

She slapped him, and walked off. Her nose held up in the air.

"Damn these proper women, eh Frank?" He chuckled, and downed his fifth beer. "Why do they have to be so uptight, and walk like they have something up their asses?"

The man next to him, patted his shoulder. "I agree with you there, son." He looked around, and grunted. They had done a hell of a job here, he thought. And it's about time these boys had a celebration on gaining the Carolina's back from the Confederacy. As Joe went to drink his six beer, he cut him off. "Whoa there boy. You're gonna have a big enough headache tomorrow as it is, don't over do it." He grabbed the beer from his hands and poored it out. "All right boys." He stood up from his chair, and adressed his group of soldiers. "Time to hit the sack. We leave at o'nine hundred tomorrow mornin' and all of you better be up, and ready to go. Otherwise, you'll be left behind." He looked around, at his troops. They didn't look to eager at the thought of being up so early, but he knew they didn't want to be left behind. A lone Union soldier to an army of Conferderates. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Everyone yelled, mumbled, or just grunted.

"All right. You're dissmissed."

Some stayed, and others went to their tents. Frank stood there, and watched everyone. They had lost valuable soldiers today. One of them being his son. Harold. Only 16 years old. He shook his head. It was his fault. If he wouldn't of pushed him so hard, he'd be here. Standing by him.

"Sir." Someone tapped him on the soldier.

Frank turned toward him. "Yes soldier?"

"The scouts found a plantation, sir. Several slaves, and clearly inhabited."

"How many men do there appear to be?" He began pacing. Most plantation owners had already left, and slaves had left. It didn't make sense.

"They couldn't judge from where they were. No one passed the windows, but lights were on and the cooks were cooking." The soldier looked uneasy. "Could it be a trap, sir?"

"Yes, soldier, it could, but we have to free the slaves somehow." He stopped, and scratched his bearded chin. "Gather three men. The biggest ones you can find."

"Yes, sir." He turned and started walking away.

"Wait. Roger." Frank called.

The man turned. "Yes?"

"Don't tell them what we're about to do."

He nodded, and walked away.

Frank shook his head, and smiled. He could just picture his wife's face when she would tell him, "Frank, what are you getting yourself into this time?"

 

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