Brevet

Eustace,

I haven’t seen a white face in over thirteen days. We’ve been on the march for what seems like forever. I know you are home because you respect me. You love me. You are waiting for my swift return. You look up to me and worship and adore me because I’ve earned it. This war has taken a toll on many of the men in my camp. We, nevertheless, are strong willed and determined to fight off these imps.

I know you miss me. You want me back home in Delaware. I am the only officer of my skin color who has been awarded the rank of brevet colonel in this regiment. I’m taking it seriously. You know that I’m worthy of all praise. I wouldn’t have the brain or the stomach to do battle with these gray coats without my spine. I’m like a tin soldier walking upright ready to thrash anything in sight. You always liked that about me. I put myself in the position to be your lover. This conflict does not change our arrangement…it enhances it.

I’ve seen great walls crumble down and fold into dust. I’ve watched men with wretched wounds turn and die. There have been multiple amputations along the way. We, yet, keep going on in General Sherman’s Army. Eustace, your love for me is as palpable as the day your glowing smile gleamed upon me. When we first courted, you said we’d be married one day. That came true and now you adore me for my virtues. I respect you as a woman who is about her business. In the North, you can be a hairdresser and own your own shop. Down here, these black women only know about taking after the white woman. It’s a different world.

I know you love me because you wrote to me. I’m writing now because we have a break in the march. The candle that flickers against the wall and the chair in which I sit at the tiny desk gives me the notion that we’re just apart in correspondence. You’re not my equal, I’m superior to you. But that is how it must be. A man without faith must choose a woman who doesn’t cling to any mystical leanings. That’s what I have done. I have chosen you because you are beneath me but still maintain every bit of intelligence, warmth, and character that a proper lady should possess.

Bombs continue to burst and the rat-a-tat of gunfire rattles the mind. I can taste the gunpowder in the air, but I still see no faces in the darkness. My men advance, however, and continue to go on with their fighting. As leader amongst the many, I am tasked with bringing these men to their women and children, too. They want to come home like I want to come home to see you. You will have to bow and scrape at my feet. The way the men under my charge perform is epic. Their strength, their knowledge compel me to drive further and further into the heart of the Confederacy.

By knowing the strategies and the routes in which we find ourselves, we continue all while whistling “John Brown’s Body.” I sip some brandy. Do you remember the time you first drank brandy and you fell asleep just a few minutes after imbibing? You love me for that don’t you? You keep showing me that your devotion to me is a result of love to the point of selfishness. Only self-interested people can be in love. If you ever hear someone say “I’m in a selfless love” run like hell away from that person. It takes a person to fully love and be full of themselves that there is no reason for altruism or unselfishness. That’s what you are not. You’re totally selfish and that’s why you love me.

I know I’m egoistic. I picked you because you’re beyond just pretty. You have a bountiful soul. If I could up your rank I’d do it like they did to me. I’d ensure that you received the rank that is fitting to you because of outstanding service. This war gives me so many ideas about us. As I write this the guns blaze even louder now. I can feel it in my chest, the thump of the cannons. I know you worry about whether I will return whole or not. Do not fret. I am prepared to make my way through the South like an adder snaking its way through the grass. I’m fully equipped with the right armament in my head. Nothing is going to prosper without my say. These men know their roles and are quivers to my bow. Into battle, we tread with the might of our ancestors even though we are our own individuals. The bursts appear even closer. I saw a black face in the flash. He wasn’t wearing a blue coat. He dropped right outside of my tent. The “Brown” tune has grown louder as the skirmish has just finished. Some cheers and hoots go up to the black velvet sky and the full moon hanging over our heads.

You love me so much. I know you do. It is because I am a man of great stature morally and by way of skill. You have been with me for the past ten years. You have birthed my six sons. So little Jepsen and Pharoah didn’t survive. They will be remembered in all of this. In their memory, I carry the torch of knowledge to let our surviving children know about their brothers. That is what quells the raging forces in my mind. Your love for me is a fuel and a stimulant and a vigorous shot of adrenaline. Now, the camp is quiet. A few peals of laughter like joy made real puncture the night. It is not grandeur or happiness that we seek in war, but if we can find little moments of levity that’s all the more purposeful.

As I close, I want you to be aware of the power of love that is what envelopes our spirits and gives us the power to continue on with our lives. You love me. I know you do.

Russell