GOD BLESS YOU, AND GOD BLESS AMERICA
To bring the full measure of total sacrifice into focus, there are endless recollections that can say it better than the letters to and from loved ones, from near and far, today and the past ...if you would be kind enough to share your memories with all of us, we would appreciate it..
HERE IS ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVORITES...
I have always been fascinated by how the early Americans, without the advantage of a structured modern education, had such a grasp of our language, and the ability to articulate their feeling in the written word. None are more poignant than the writing of our soldiers to their loved ones describing their plight and emotions between the heat of battle. This letter written by an officer to his wife that was featured on one of the finest documentaries of our Civil War, ever produced on film.
Sullivan Ballou’s letter to his beloved wife Sarah, July 14,1861 Camp Clark, Washington DC, as it was read on the PBS series The CIVIL WAR by Ken Burns series....
On July 14, 1861, Major Sullivan Ballou, of the Second Regiment, Rhode Island Volunteers, wrote to his wife Sarah.
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure — and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows — when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children — is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death — and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles I have often advocated before the people and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me — perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar — that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night — amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours — always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
Sullivan Ballou was killed one week later, at Bull Run.
He was 32 years old.
Amen!
GOD BLESS YOU, AND GOD BLESS AMERICA (worth repeating)
Thanks to all who have served, all who are serving and all who will serve in the future. Thanks to their families. Thanks to their friends.
I’ll always remember my friend Eddie McHenry. He and I were both in Vietnam in 12/68, about 100 miles apart, me in DaNang, Eddie in Phu Bai.
I finished my initial 3 month deployment and returned to the Philippines. Eddie also ended his visit to VN but Eddie left in a body bag.
What a great guy!