America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 2)

Episode 24: Love from Lydia

"But..." She held her tongue. "May I leave, sir?"

"... You may leave."

She bowed her head and left the tent.

He rumbled to himself, "This is only a setback, America. I ain't done fighting yet." He coughed onto the sleeve of his uniform, scowling at the blood on his arm.

☆☆☆☆☆

On a muggy and humid morning, Vermont encountered a pale-faced Wisconsin while moving through the Union camp. He asked where Pennsylvania was because the Union Army's makeshift hospitals were short-staffed. She told him she was still sitting on that hill before proceeding to throw up behind a tree. That prompted him to worry about her health, yet she claimed she was alright. It was the smell that was the problem.

The summer air above the bright green fields of Gettysburg used to be fresh with the light aroma of aster and goldenrod. That changed after the three-day battle. It was difficult to tell how many bodies were left on the blood-soaked field, veiled by the smoke that accumulated from the hard-fought conflict. The Union soldiers did their best to take account of casualties for both sides. Injured soldiers for the Union were carried off in cots. Injured soldiers for the Confederates were dragged off as prisoners of war. The bodies of the dead were quickly buried in shallow graves in the hopes they could be given a proper burial later on. Their names were unimportant right now. All they needed to know was the uniform they wore and the notion they died in the act of valor.

In addition to death among humans, there were also casualties among mules and horses. Thousands of dead equines littered the fields, getting cooked under the heat of the sun for multiple days. It was near impossible to give their bloated corpses a burial without puking from the putrid odor. Especially in fear of the spread of various diseases, the living soldiers decided it was best to burn the corpses instead. They hacked, dragged, and stacked the body parts into one of the multiple pyres before setting them ablaze. That seemed like a good idea until the horrid foulness of cooked rotten horse flesh permeated the air. Anyone within the radius of the burnings became nauseously sick of the toxic miasma.

Shockingly, the burnt smell from hell didn't bother Pennsylvania. She remained sitting on a hill that overlooked the bloody landscape, writing in her journal with dark bags underneath her dull eyes. Her hearing was slightly impaired after hearing rifles and cannons go off for three straight days. Thus, she didn't hear Vermont call her name until he hunched over by her side.

"P-Penny!" Vermont panted. "Why are you still here? You can get sick if you continue to sit around here. Blurp!" He quickly covered his nose and mouth.

She shrugged as she continued to write. "How are the others doing?"

"We're doing alright for now. Wisconsin is likely sick from the stench, but she's being a trooper, providing meals for the soldiers. As for America and New Jersey, they're currently arguing whether to stay put or lead another attack on the rebels."

"I see."

He gulped. "The makeshift hospitals are short-staffed. We need help tending the wounded."

"... Alright." She closed her journal and stood up from the ground. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll lead you there." He quickly scurried down the hill while Pennsylvania followed behind him at her own pace.

Not long after they left the hill, it began to rain heavily.

~ .......... ~

The small town of Gettysburg—with a population of 2,400—was suddenly transformed into a hospital caring for over 20,000 soldiers, both Union and Confederate. There was not enough food, not enough clothes, not enough supplies, and not enough room for everyone. Yet, there was a critical need for everything.