Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.135.209.180

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

It was cold that snowy December night, 1862. We took the hill to stand and fight against the Yankee coats of blue. We charged towards their army near the river down below. From the blades of our Rebel swords the Yankee blood did flow. Their troops had us outnumbered that frigid winter night. But Stonewall Jackson rushed the left while Stuart flanked the right. That dreary night we took the town of Fredericksburg by storm, we fought for Dixie the next 3 nights and through the early morns. Death fell upon the Union troops taking many lives. The wounded laid there crying, wishing they had died. And when the battle finished and the smoke had cleared the air, we looked behind and on that hill our flag was still there. And as the sun went down that eve with harmonica in hand, I sat upon that hill and sang, My Home's In Dixieland. Evermore a soldier, I'll fight until the end. And when my war is over, I'll see my home again. But if I should die tomorrow one thing will sure be true. I survived the battle of Fredericksburg, 1862.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required