Dying Right

Tomorrow is Remembrance Day. There are so many stories of the courage and bravery of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for those of us who followed.
Here is one.

Richard Rowland Kirkland was eighteen when he enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1861, shortly after war had been declared. 
By 1862, Richard had seen many of his closest friends from Kershaw County killed and had fought in some of the largest battles. 
In December of that year, his unit found itself in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

This is the story of that battle...

Richard Rowland Kirkland

Just eighteen when he enlisted,
Richard offered his support,
Of Confederates, his group consisted,
They, the Union army’d thwart!
 
Within a year, from Kershaw County,
To closest friends, he’d said adieu,
In battles, large, they’d paid the bounty,
And death’s dark veil they hurried through.
 
In Fredericksburg, there came that fight,
8,000 Union soldiers shot,
Though some were dead at Marye’s Heights,
There’re many hundreds that were not.
 
Their cries and moans of pain and thirst,
Assaulted ears of South and North,
T’ween this and battle, this was worst,
They needed aid. Someone go forth!
 
For hours those cries were unrelenting,
But no one hearing, offered aid,
For fear they, too would be consenting
Targets. If from their lines they strayed.
 
Then Richard, he could stand no more.
Defied the band of army ‘law’,
Behind the lines of his own corps,
Approached his gen’ral Joe Kershaw.
 
“I’ve got to help!” young Richard told him,
“A flag of truce to bring me home?”
The older officer just looked grim,
And told him he was on his own.
 
So Richard packed what he could carry,
Blankets, canteens by the pound,
Crossed that ‘No Man’s Land’ so scary,
Reached the first, then started round.
 
No one fired as our young ‘fighter’,
Dealt compassion by the hour,
Making wounded’s burdens lighter,
Serving with empathic power.
 
Kindnesses are oft found missing,
When we tell the tales of war,
One fact, we should not be dismissing,
Of Richard Kirkland’s we need more.
 
Our Richard took a fatal blow,
During Chickamauga’s fight,
"I'm done for," said the 20-year-old.
“Tell my Pa that I died right."