Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2011
We started out with Armistead
from the shelter of the trees.
A jackrabbit raced past to the rear,
no dumb bunny was he

The heat rose up to meet us
As we started up the rise-
The prospect of the copse of trees
Before us was the prize.

The flower of Virginia here
displayed upon Parade
We must have looked magnificent
Just before the cannonade

They piled on Double Cannister
and tore holes in our line
We staggered from the weight of shot
that fearful hissing whine..

Then enfilading fire came
From the Yanks behind stone walls
Just then post fences six feet high
briefly caused our charge to stall

Brave **** Gannett was unhorsed
Upon this very spot
Kemper, wounded mortally,
Was retrieved from shell and shot

We made it past the final fence
And up the grassy knoll
Defiant in the cannons mouth
"Turn those guns!" I'm told.

But at that very Moment
General Armistead was downed
The attack lost its momentum
Our wave crested on high ground..

The blue bellies yelled Fredericksburg
As the Crimson tide retraced
Half in Anger, Half in relief
that the challenge had been faced.

The hill before the copse of trees
Pocked with our dead and dying
While the remnants of Picketts men
Towards Longstreets line were filing

Matthew Brady took my photograph
before I was led away
My face a study in defiance
A true man of the gray.
Gettysburg, the third day. This is from the Confederate point of view.
John F McCullagh
Written by
John F McCullagh  63/M/NY
Please log in to view and add comments on poems