The Story of a Slave

Swish! Crack! The whip flew through the air and cut into the back of the slave working next to me. I dared a sideways glance, it was my friend Ernest. "Work harder!" the slave master yelled. I bent down and carried on working as fast as I could, hoping I wouldn't be the next victim. As I worked my thoughts were filled with anger and hatred toward the whites. "What right did they have to own us, and make us work. Who gave them the right to beat us when we didn't work fast enough." My thoughts were interrupted by the slave master yelling at us to stop work and gather in front of the Big House.

Once we were all gathered together in front of the Big House the master came out with a man I had never seen before. Master said that he had been told that a man had been seen around the neighbouring properties and that he was a danger to us all. The stranger held up a photo of a man with curly brown hair, laughing eyes, and a bandanna tied around his neck. We were told that he was an abolitionist, and if we ever saw him we had to tell the master. We were told that if we did, we would be rewarded. I didn't know what to do, the man didn't look dangerous, and could anything be worse than the life we were living now?

Over the next few weeks I overheard talk of someone called Abraham Lincoln who wanted all the slave owners to free their slaves. Some said he was going to start a war to try free us. I didn't know what to think of all this. Why would people risk their lives to free us when they didn't even know us? All I knew was that I wanted to be free.

A few weeks later, we were woken up in the middle of the night by the slave master coming in and herding out all the males. Once we were all gathered in front of the Big House the master came out and told us that a war had started. Major Robert Anderson had surrendered Fort Sumter. We were told that we would have to fight to protect the South. I was shocked. We were being made to fight to stay slaves! That was the last thing I wanted. I didn't want to be a slave, I wanted to be free. To live my own life. But there was nothing I could do. If I tried to refuse they would beat me. I knew I had no choice, I would have to fight.

Battle of Saratoga

September 18 1777 - Battle of Freeman's Farm - Slowly we moved forward in the dusk. I might have been tempted to admire the beautiful farmland if we hadn't been heading into battle. As we moved on I tried to decipher my feelings. I was excited, I'd trained hard to get to this, an American sniper, but I was also scared. This was my first real battle. I knew I was good enough, ever since I was young I'd had a very good aim, but how would I handle a real battle.

There was no more time for wondering, it was time to attack. I saw our General, Daniel Morgan, give the signal. All 500 of us knelt and readied our guns, waiting. There it was, the signal to fire. The night erupted in the thunder of guns. I saw many British solders fall, around me I saw my companions fall. Blood everywhere. The sound of not only gun fire, but also the agonizing screams of wounded and dyeing men. I tried to block it out, the sound, the smell, the realization that I was ending others lives.

Suddenly I heard Morgan shout for us to retreat. We all turned and made our way to Bemis Heights. We had suffered 320 casualties, the British had suffered 600.

October 7 1777 - Bemis Heights - After our retreat at Freeman's Farm we had come to Bemis Heights. Here more men joined us until we had an army of 20,000. I was wondering if the British where going to attack again, and is so when, when a solder came running over telling us all to prepare to fight, the British where attacking. I jumped up, grabbed my gun, and raced out. This time I found that it wasn't as hard to kill.

It didn't take long to set the British to flight. I and most of the army followed General Gates to purse them. After several days we caught up to them, and surrounded them. The British surrendered on October 17 1777.

The War Nurse

The War Nurse
By Rachel Buckland

Boom!!!!! The ground shook from the impact of the explosion. The air was filled with the deafening noise of guns, and blood chilling cries of the wounded and dying. I felt sick. I wanted to run and hide. To hide from the stench of death. To hide from the reality of war. But there was nowhere to hide. No matter where I went, I would be surrounded by death. I was trapped.

Why am I here? You might be wondering. Why am I in the middle of a war? The answer is simple, I am a nurse. When the war started I decided to train to become a nurse, then I would be able to help the wounded. Little did I know of the horror of war. I thought I was brave and strong. Now I know that I am not.

My days are spent scouring the battle field for wounded men who could be saved. I take them back to our makeshift hospital and do my best to help them. It is like nothing I could ever have imagined. I see men lying mutilated in there own blood. I sit with men who have been crushed, who have no hope left. I have heard men breath their last. Husbands, fathers, brothers, sons.

As I look upon young men lying dead, I think of the life they could have had. The life that has been stolen away from them. I think of their families back home. Did they have family waiting anxiously for them? Mothers, wives, children, sisters, sweethearts? I cry. I cry for those who have been lost. I cry for those who are still to die. And I cry for those left behind.