Earl hung back from the rest of his family. He stopped a minute to over look the terrain as he had so many times before. “The Angle” was his favorite spot for some reason. He had been coming to the Gettysburg Battle field for as long as he could remember. That’s not usual for a Pennsylvania boy. His grandfather was in the Civil War, combine that with all the stories he heard and it’s easy to see how it made him a Civil War Buff.
He wasn’t exactly sure where his grandfather fought but he knew it was around that area somewhere. His grandfathers name was on the Pennsylvania monument His grandfather had made it through the war and had raised a family near Bally, Pennsylvania
He looked off in the distance and leaned his arm again one of the cannons. For a moment he thought about how those men must have felt over a century ago. He recalled the information on the markers that told the story of the three day battle. He had paid attention to the details engraved permanently
in the paintings and documentary programs so the generations in the future would not forget.
He mentally replayed some scene, he had seen about the battle. Most were very realistic, the click-click sound was almost hypnotic. In his mind he could hear the cries of pain as he replayed that scene. It was easy become connect with this sacred ground. He had read somewhere that the ground was so covered with blood that it ran like a small stream. The tree at the Angle,in the corner by the stone wall had its roots watered by human blood.
As an EMT he empathize with the men and even though it was over a hundred years ago, he felt a adrenalin rush. It was a little like the feeling he gets when he hears “the tones”, that alert him to a call. He though about the medics during that battle. Where would a medic start? What could he do with so many wounded? How would he decide who to help first and who to bypass.? How did the medic feel as he turned his back on someone so desperate for help, but knowing there was nothing he could really do. There was no choice. They were already as good as dead. How did the men feel knowing there was no one to help With his knowledge and training he could have been very helpful during that battle, he may have helped save a few more, but would it have made a difference,
Earls wife and daughter had gone on ahead to look at something at the High Water Mark They didn’t shares his obsession with history. They paid a respectable appreciation of the events of the past but Earl could quote data about America History as well as any history professor. His family were use to Earl taking a few minutes longer to look at something.
It was a pleasant day and they wanted to move on and get on to other things.. They were not aware of what happened to Earl. It was as if he had simple vanished for a little while.
Earl was still leaning against on of the cannons. He was looking across the stone wall to the field where the Rebels had crossed. He squirted to get a better idea of how far the a Union soldier could see. He shifter his position slight as he concentrate on the field ahead of him.
Suddenly he had a sharp pain in his left shoulder. It almost took his breathe away. He gasp and put his hand on his shoulder , Before he could conscious determine what caused the pain, he felt another graze the side of his head. He was confused. He felt like he had been shot, but by who and where did it come from ? A second shot had grazed his head.
He didn’t hear a shot, but he put his hand on his shoulder, and shaking looked at it He wouldn’t have been surprised if he saw blood on his hand.
He looked around and nothing seemed any different from the hundred or so visits he had made to this spot during his life time. He just had this mysterious pain that somehow made him feel like he had been shot.
He was just trying to cope with what had happened. He reach up unconsciously and rubbed his shoulder. Once again he looked at his hand to see it there as blood on it. There was none.
Several months later he was visiting the Battle field again. Nothing seemed usual. He ended up back at the Angle and was standing near the second row of cannons. After his last visit he was more observant. He still had not figured out what had happened to him.
He felt a little anxious as he looked over the field ahead of him. He saw a slight shimmer of sunlight being reflected off in the distance. He couldn’t make out what it was. He placed his hand on the cannon closest to him to steady himself while he tried harder to make out what was out there.. Things begin to change around him . There were more shimmers of light in the field ahead.
His first thought was maybe there as an reenactment taking place. But with a closer look he saw nothin even the shimmer was gone.
He turned slightly. At that instance, it was as if he had been snatched back in time. He could see and hear it all. He heard the sound of bayonets making contact He saw the dark smoke as the cannons fired. It hugged the ground back as death as the cannonball sough out its victims The dark cloud choked out the sunlight. He heard the man voices yelling orders, voices he didn’t recognize. He smelled gunpowder and hot blood.
He felt like he had a rifle in position to fire, but he wasn’t sure if he had gotten off a shot. He was quickly scanning the area but he didn’t know for what or who. He was totally confused. Both sides here fighting around him. He couldn’t focus on any one target.
He repositioned his rife as he placed his finger on the trigger. He felt his whole body spasm and the most terrible pain he had ever felt engulfed him. He was suddenly down on the ground on all fours. His gun had fallen to the ground . He struggled to keep his face out of the dirt, his arms could no longer hold him.
He rolled on his back and tried to sort what was going on. He was anger that he had left himself open to be an easy target. The pain wasn’t as bad.as it was. He was lying face up to the sky. He felt the warm wet blood as it was flowing out of him. His heart was pounding wildly. He could hear his heart beating like a drum in his ears. He couldn’t speak, he could no longer move .He was frightened, he was sad , Imagines
flashed rapidly through his mind He knew he was dying., and there as nothing he could do. He knew all that was left was to pray. There was simply nothing he could do about any thing. His lips quivered as he recited the Lords Prayer . He managed most of the Hail Mary and everything went black. He was not here.
How much time passed he had no idea. Next thing he knew he was getting up off the ground. There was no battle. Just tourist with cameras clicking as they took pictures of the tree by the stone wall and the field beyond that. Its as just a normal summer day at Gettysburg 150 years after the battle.
No one seemed to be aware of Earl or what had happened to him.
Earl brushed the grass of his clothes but he still felt weak and very confused. No one offered to help him up or no one notice him on the ground. That was not normal, surely someone would have come over to check on him.
He had something similar happen to him a few months earlier and he still didn’t understand what had happened. with that incident. This time it was more intensive
His family was only a few feet away from him. They were not aware of him falling or anything that happened to him.
Earl quietly excused himself and walked back to the car and sat there. He was overcome by emotions and just needed to get control of his breathing , his heart was still racing and he felt very emotional.. He was flooded with every emotion and totally confused He was just trying to understand what had happen to him and why.
He felt a sense of loyalty to the men that died there. Could they want him to go with them? Did he let them down or did they let him down? Why was he having these incidents?
This as the second time something like this had happen to him at the same place.
He knew he was being pulled to Gettysburg. but why?
One thing for sure, Earl knew he had died at Gettysburg