Diamond Resolution

Chapter 3

Coming On

October, 1864

Adolphus burst through the opening to our shack, making a beeline to the stove. He gathered his tattered coat about him and stamped his feet.

“Such cold I have never see at this time of year. I bet it is near freezing!”

“I know it is,” I called from my bed, where I lay under every piece of cover I could find. I could see my breath in the air above me, which is why I knew it was freezing.

Adolphus bent down and looked into the stove. “This is almost burned up. Do we have more?”

“We don’t, and I don’t know when we will have more. You will have to get in bed like me and cover up with everything you have!”

Adolphus got into his bed and pulled three blankets over him. “This isn’t enough! I’m still cold.”

“Just lie still for a while and you’ll warm up. This is unlike you to complain so.”

“I’m not used to such cold, but I do apologize for my going on about the cold. I know you understand.”

“Yes, I am experiencing the same thing. In any case, it is time for me to stand guard duty.”

“I hope it goes well and that you return safely.”

“Thank you. I am certain that I will.”

I reluctantly got out of my bed and put on my coat and cap. Taking my rifle and back pack, I went back to my familiar station. A soldier I hadn’t see before stood on the parapet. I hailed him.

“Halloo! My name is Caleb and I’m here to relieve you.”

“I am glad to see you. My name is Roger, and I will also be glad to quit this post.”

“It is extremely cold, is it not?”

“The coldest I have ever experienced, but of course I am from Alabama.”

“I’m from Virginia, and this is still the coldest I’ve ever known.”

Roger climbed down from his post, and I took his place. Again it was quiet, but then I heard something that sounded like someone was crunching the ice that covered the ground between the two lines. I raised my head above stockade, which I later realized was a foolish thing to do. I felt something buzz across the top of my head, and then there was darkness. Only darkness.

 

 

 

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Diamond Resolution

Chapter 2

A Letter from Laurel

August, 1864

                                                                                                                        August 22, 1864

My dearest husband and my best friend,

I think of you so often in those awful conditions, but try not to think of the peril you find yourself in. I pray that God will keep you and that you will take care for yourself as much as you can.

I am well, as is Clinton and little Caleb. In truth, he is not so little any more. You should see him, toddling around the garden and helping us pick up sticks. He cannot carry very many, but he is a persistent little fellow, and I must tell him to rest, or he will work himself into some sort of illness. He obeys me cheerfully, and I should want no better son.

Clinton continues to be a Godsend, working with me to put in the garden. He also is a cheerful, industrious worker, and I count myself blessed to have him here. He never speaks of his family, although they wronged him so sorely. He has a sweet spirit, and I thank God for him.

Any news we receive of the war comes a week after it occurred, which makes the situation even worse. I try not to imagine what has already happened, but do not often succeed. You must pray for me and my worries. Our Saviour told us to take no thought for the morrow, and I must endeavor to do better.

The weather has been fair here, with just enough rain overnight to profit the garden. If that continues, we shall have a fine harvest. I will put up as much as I can, and I find myself wishing that you could eat here, with us, fresh from the garden. I am told, however, that the war will continue at least several months into the future. No one except God knows how long it will last, so I continue to occupy myself and not think about it.

Well, I have complained enough. Please write me a long letter when you can. I can imagine hearing your voice when I read your words. I continue to pray earnestly for you and all those in perilous circumstances, and I pray that this war will cease, sooner rather than later.

I am your loving, adoring wife.

Laurel

I read Laurel’s letter through twice, and could not help brushing a tear from my eye. She was such a pure, righteous woman, and I counted it a gift from God that she was my wife. Adolphus came into our shelter and saw me holding the letter.

“News from Laurel?”

“Yes. I have no one else who writes me.”

“Is she well?”

“Yes.”

“Count yourself fortunate that you have her to write you. You know that I have no one.”

“Oh, I am sorry to have brought that up. Of course I knew that. Please forgive me.”

He waved his hand. “I do so, right readily.”

“Thank you. What news from the ramparts?”

He sighed. “Nothing, which is good, of course, although the only way to end this thing is by fighting, so I find it hard to know what to pray for.”

“I understand what you mean.”

“I know you do. I have the same difficulty. For now, I plan to take a nap. Remember that you have the watch now.”

“Yes, I am preparing what I need for that. I hope you have a good rest.”

“Thank you. I am in need of it.”

I took my rifle and backpack and made my way to the rampart where I stood with poor Johnston the night before. Who knows what would happen to me? I didn’t certainly. That is a knowledge that  only God knows, so I said a prayer for myself and all the others I knew. I found my words turning  to asking God to end the war soon. That was my greatest dream, for it would allow me to be with Laurel and little Caleb and live in peace. Peace, I thought. What a beautiful word.

I reached my duty station and climbed up on the rampart. A soldier I had not seen was standing watch. “Hello,” I said. “My name’s Caleb, and I’m here to relieve you.”

A look of relief came over his face. “I am right happy to see you. My name is Simpson.”

We shook hands, and I said, “Last name or first?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My first name is Mordecai. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here. Has it been quiet?”

“Yes. Too quiet, if you know what I mean.”

“I see.”

“There’s a sniper over there, so keep your head down. And you know what to do if something starts.”

I nodded. “I have been fully briefed.”

“Good-bye, then,” Mordecai said. “May you have a peaceful watch.”

“Thank you. Good rest to you.”

He climbed down, and I was left alone at my station. I wasn’t truly alone, because another soldier stood watch about 500 yards away, and of course, there were our troops behind my back. There were also Union forces about 1000 yards away, and as I stood there, I saw that Mordecai was right. There was no sound from across the way, and I saw no activity. Maybe they have all left and we can all go home, I thought. Then I laughed at the absurdity of my thought. And so I stood through the long morning.

 

 

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Diamond Resolution

Part Four of the Diamond Destiny Series

Chapter 1

Night Watches

July, 1865

It seemed that I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I was suddenly awakened by someone kicking at my feet with his boots. I sat up, exclaiming, “What the Devil are you doing?” It is well that I am not a man given to strong language, for I would have made full use of it if I were. But I am not, so when my vision cleared, I saw Adolphus’ smiling face.

“Time to get up. You have the next watch.”

“I thought Francis had that assignment.”

Adolphus shook his head. “He has the dysentery, and you wouldn’t want to be around him any more than he wants anyone around.”

“All right. Give me a minute to get dressed and assemble my necessaries. How did your duty go?”

“Well. All was quiet my entire watch.”

“That’s good. I hope that continues.”

I struggled into my clothes and picked up my pack and my rifle. “You didn’t hear any troops moving up?”

“Not a one.”

“Maybe there won’t be an attack today.”

“As we talked about, it’s very hard to tell what will happen next.”

“Yes, but still it would be nice to not have to fight today.”

“It would be nice not to have to fight ever again.”

“I say ‘amen’ to that, my brother.”

Adolphus went into the tent to have a few hours of sleep before reveille. I picked my way through the trenches to the forward observation post. I greeted a sleepy sentry named Johnston whom I had talked with briefly before. “Hello, Johnston.”

“Hello, Dillard.”

“How does it look?”

“Very quiet, almost strangely so.”

“That’s what Adolphus said. I hope it continues.”

“As do I. In fact, I wish it would be quiet the rest of my life.”

I chuckled. “So do I, but you know what they say about wishes.”

“That beggars could ride them?”

“Indirectly, yes.”

I climbed onto the parapet and looked across to the Union lines. Adolphus and Johnston were right—there was no sign of activity on the other side. I had not reason to doubt them, but there’s something in us that makes us want to see for ourselves. “It is quiet,” I whispered over to Johnston, who had joined me on the parapet.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“You surely did.”

Since our position faced east, we would see the sun rise in about an hour. That’s when the reveilles would sound and the troops begin stirring on both sides.

“Not too long until dawn,” Johnston whispered.

I nodded.

“When that comes, we’ll know if they’ll attack us or not.”

“We will.”

We both fell into a long reverie, which was unusual. It seemed I was always around noise and clatter, and I preferred quiet, but there was precious little of it in my situation. I looked across the fields to the emplacements across the way, ghostly and strangely beautiful in the pale moonlight. That is truly an illusion, I thought. There is no peace for us. Not now or anytime soon.

We kept our heads below the top rail of the parapet, although we would pop up if we heard something to see what it was. Just before dawn, we heard a heavy thud from the direction of the Union lines, and Johnston raised his head to see what it was.

There was a loud report, and Johnston fell backwards. I crawled over to him, but he was dead, shot in the forehead by a sniper. We hadn’t had too many snipers during this campaign, so I guess we had grown complacent. And our lack of attention cost Johnston his life.

A sergeant whose name I did not know came crawling along the parapet. “What happened?” he whispered. I supposed he thought there might be another shot.

“We heard something from the other side, and when Johnston put his head up to see what it was, a sniper shot him. He’s dead.”

The sergeant grunted. “We tell you troops to be careful but look what happens.”

I thought that was a cruel thing to say. Johnston didn’t ask to be shot. He just did what any of us would, except for the sergeant, apparently.

“All right. Stay at your post. I’ll get someone to take Johnston away.” He crawled off a ways, and then turned back. “Do you want me to send someone to help you?”

“No,” I called. “It’s close to dawn, so I think I can handle it.”

“Suit yourself.”

I knelt behind the parapet, careful to keep my head down no matter what I heard. As it happened, I didn’t hear anything. A few minutes later the sun came up and reveille sounded from both sides. The army is consistent in that, at least, if little else.

Two soldiers I had seen around camp came long. “We’re your relief,” one said. “Where’s the other fellow?”

“Dead. Sniper got him.” I didn’t feel much like talking.”

“Well, too bad for him. Anything we should look out for.”

“Snipers.”

“I figured.”

I made my way back to our tent. Adolphus was up, as he always was. “How was the rest of the night? ” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not good. A sniper got Johnston just a few minutes ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “He seemed like a fine fellow.”

“I’m sure,” I said, but I thought, we’re all fine fellows, and look what happens to us. It doesn’t seem right.

“It looks like they won’t attack today. That’s good.”

“There’s always tomorrow.”

“Let’s take one day at a time, my friend.”

“Good idea,” I told him, but I thought, that’s not so easily done.”

 

 

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Imaginings for the Month of April Part 2

Imaginings for the Month of April, Part 2

The fire at Notre Dame

Restless and dissatisfied cats

Baseball

Never catching up on reading

Writing a poem

Aging cats and humans

Catsup

Giving permission that is really not permission

The value of silence

Markings

Front and back

Elephant ears

Running out of ideas (or not)—

They’re all there.

 

Dan Verner

April 30, 2019

 

 

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Imaginings for the Month of April Part 1

 

Imaginings for the Month of April Part 1

Bronze door handles and

Opening a new book for the first time

Cat “organs” and

Ideas lost and found

Writing a poem

Auto-complete and

Potatoes

Writing a poem (again)

Lies and chocolate

Black holes

Beauty and nature

Scenes from an Easter week

Intimations of mortality

And shoes.

They’re all there.

 

Dan Verner

April 29, 2019

 

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Day Twenty-Eight

Day Twenty-Eight

On this, the twenty-eighth day of

National Poetry Month,

I have run out of ideas

For poems

Like a guy who has run out of gas

On a desert highway

Where no one comes by.

So he starts walking

Hoping for a ride

Hoping for an unexpected gas station

Hoping for an idea.

 

Dan Verner

April 28, 2019

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Pachy Dermis

Pachy Dermis

Asian elephants cool themselves

By moving their ears

Which have blood vessels

Near the surface of the skin.

This is fortunate since elephants

Would find it difficult to

Put on a hat or hold a

Fan.

It works out well.

 

Dan Verner

April 27, 2019

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Front and Back

Front and Back

The azaleas along the front of our house

Are in full bloom.

Bright red, they go by the name of

Mother’s Day.

They were there when we moved in

Nearly 31 years ago and have bloomed

Most years.

In the back of our house

Some wild azaleas without a name

(As far as I know) grow in the back

Of our house. They are pink and white

And came from the woods behind my parents’ house.

My mother planted them there and

I think it right that in the front

Of our house

It is Mother’s Day

And in back

I am reminded of so many

Mother’s Days

As well.

 

Dan Verner

April 26, 2019

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Markings

Markings

In a room on the third floor

Of a church are small indentations

In the tile floor.

They don’t seem to be natural

And they’re not,

The remnants of who knows

How many cellos

Resting on their pins

While students played

And the teacher taught.

All these are invisible

To those walking by in the hall

As are the hours of practice and

Hard work

All to produce something

Audible and

Beautiful.

 

Dan Verner

April 25, 2019

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Silence

Silence

Four-part vocal groups

May make a great deal of

Sound, of course,

With crescendos

In fortississimo passages

With overtone series

And yet

They may also be

Silent

Before an entrance

During instrumental passages

And at the cutoff.

Silence defines sound:

Listen:

 

 

Dan Verner

April 24, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

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