Surrender

Carlton Walter's POV

Carlton Walters’ POV:

        It was a surprise to me that I met with the exact same person that the letter was supposed to be sent to. He had the same brown eyes and hair as his father. Now I turned back to my horse when an idea struck me.

        My mother has always told me that my curiosity got the best of me. Instead of  going back home with Sarah, I decided to follow Ethan and Alfred in the hospital. Then I wish I had not even think of doing such a thing. Because there were injured soldiers everywhere. Some had large gashes on their heads. Some had broken arms; many with broken legs. What bothered me the most was all the blood. On the walls. On the beds. So much on the floor. I could hear them moaning - some even yelling.

        When I got there Ethan was talking to a man with a bushy beard. As I came closer I heard him say “ no doctors … treating the soldiers.”

        Ethan looked very glum and scared at the same time. Just then I remembered - my fist aid kit.
        “Ethan if there is no doctor, I can help. I used to be a first aid assistant.”

        Relief washed over his face.

        “I just have to get my first aid kit. Which I reckon you will be a predicament, for my house is 3 hours away.” The relief quickly disappeared.

        The man with the bushy beard must have overheard us because he said, “I have an extra kit that you can use. Just return it.”

        The relief spread across his face again. In a different situation, I would have found it amusing, but not right now.

        We started towards Ethan’s house.

         “So judging on the direction we are going, you are a Confederate.”

         “Yes and you are a Union I suppose.” he said.

         “That doesn’t matter though. We are all still human beings but they don’t seem to understand that.”

         “I agree with you in all respects. I wasn’t entirely happy when Abe Lincoln made that speech of his. I already knew it was going to upset people who were seeing that slavery should continue.”

         “To tell you the truth, I really don’t realize why there should be a Civil War at all,” I said, actually starting to feel that the Civil War could be avoided.

         “My father thinks differently, however. He thinks that the Civil War couldn’t be avoided. The Northern States do not understand that slaves are the only way that we can provide for ourselves. Without slaves, we wouldn’t be able to provide for ourselves at all,” Ethan says, and I actually feel bad for him.

         “I used to be in your position a few months ago. I saw how my father treated the slaves. He was a cruel man, who didn’t even treat the slaves humanely. I think that instead of a Civil War, laws should’ve been passed that allowed slave owners to still own slaves but they couldn’t whip or torture the slaves. The only outcome of this war would be death of many people, who could’ve lived longer. But their life is snuffed out of them because of a war that really wouldn’t solve the important conflicts that we have in the United States,” as I was saying this, I realized that for the first time, I spoke my thoughts aloud to a person I just met a few minutes ago.

         We discussed many views of the Civil War and I actually started to feel as if we’ve been friends since childhood. We even started discussing personal things. As I learned more about him, I started opening up more to him. Then I realized one important detail. We were both from opposing sides, yet we share the same ideas and thoughts. The Civil War is referred to as a war of brother against brother. I could understand how that is true.

         I also realized that we have grown a deeper bond than just brotherhood in these mere few minutes.

         I was quickly brought back to reality as my thoughts were interrupted. I heard a sound that seemed very familiar. Then, Ethan looked at me wide eyed and I realized that the sound was coming from the direction of his house. He started to run. That was when I remembered where I heard the sound before. My father was the one who made that sound while practicing to go to war. Again came the sound, only this time I knew what it was.

         Gunshots.