The stench made the strongest a cryer,

But, we all knew,

That fighting is what we had to do

Fear spread over all the men,

Like a forest fire spreading over the land,

And this same question wrung in my head,,,

Will I be dead? Or just lie in a hospital bed?

Will all men and women remember these days?

The days when we fought the blues against grays,

Brother against brother,

When we fought in a field of death,

When we fought for three days,,,in Gettysburg.

By Koren Dickinson age 11