Monday, February 20, 2012


Wallace will outlive the war, but I will not. Early will write his memoirs, but I will not. The Georgetown Pike, after the covered bridge has burned, I will fall there not to rise again.

Pictures of Success

Colonel Truex brought me the order today. We are to decamp in a fortnight. Impending doom and damnation. And all of the whiskey is gone.

The adjutant had received word that few men could be spared from the siege of Petersburg. I would be relying on Ricketts' division, the thousand or so hundred-days' men that remained to me, and whatever of my wits I could muster. The whiskey was gone and not coming back.

Early would have his ransom.