Rebel Angel: By Laura Guenot
The young Rebel knelt by the stonewall, listening to the cries.
He looked across the battlefield, tears springing to his eyes.
They were dying, both Blue and Grey, and no one was willing to come to their aid.
The Rebel pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out the sound,
But could still hear the agony in the background.
All around him the other men sat, ignoring the suffering and continuing to chat.
Was no man brave enough to venture over the wall?
With a heart full of mercy, the young Rebel arose,
He was willing, even if it meant he would be in the firing range of his foes.
The others thought he was crazy,
And joked that his mind was perhaps quite hazy.
Ignoring their taunts, the young Rebel pulled himself over the wall,
The sharp stones cutting into him as he crawled.
A dozen canteens swinging at his side, the young Rebel hit the ground as a bullet whizzed by.
Alone on the field with the dead and the dying,
The young Rebel would not turn back without at first trying.
Before him lay, a sweet-faced boy,
Who, was most likely his mother’s pride and joy.
The young Rebel looked past the uniform of blue,
And knelt in the snow, knowing exactly what to do.
At first, the soldier fought him, a chest wound causing him to wheeze,
But the young Rebel’s gentle voice soon put him to ease.
He bound up the wounds, and gave him some water, telling him he’d be better tomorrow.
Both armies separated by the field of death watched,
Their cowardly hearts hanging heavy like stones.
A boy had shown more courage than they.
For hours, the young Rebel worked,
Bringing comfort and aid to all without a smirk.
For he was loyal and good, just like we wish to be,
And when he saw those suffering, he was willing to bend his knee,
Giving aid to all, even his enemies.
You may ask who this young Rebel was,
For many do not know his name.
He was Richard Kirkland from Kershaw County…The Angel of Marye’s Heights.