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The Son Of Erin {A Dairy Of A Soldier In BcoF}
O`Finnegan:
Son Of Erin
By: Spencer Alan Kasper
Prelude
There was once a man, a patriot, a son, and a brother. He traveled from the green rolling hills of Erie, to the distant lands of America. That man, torn by fear, became from a rancher to a soldier for the Confederate States of America. When he arrived in the Galveston, Texas in 1859, the dock master estimated he was about twenty- three. His papers read, Le`Roy O`Finnegan of Cort, Ireland. This man had nothing more that pennies to his name and being an immigrant on foreign soil, he was unknown, with no friends, and no family. Little did anyone know his name would become one of the most infamous names muttered in Texas during the American Civil War.
August 13th, 1859. I’ve finally arrived in the great land of freedom; I’ve felt its soil in my hands, Freedom at last I heard someone shout while leaving the dock, I couldn’t agree more. I’m writing from the Galveston Hotel, Texas is a fine place, but I thought the boat was supposed to arrive in New Orleans. Galveston is a large town, where the docks are full of boats shipping cotton and cattle to Charleston. I’ve decided to take up a job here at the hotel. I need to money for a horse, to take me to Virginia.
August 23rd, 1859. It’s been over a week since I’ve written in this journal. I’ve raised enough money for a horse, and I’ve made my name known throughout town. I’m thinking of going to a ranch outside the city, where I hear they are hiring men to be ranch hands. I also saw an article in the paper I read today that should be mentioned, it was on a man by the name of John Brown; it said that he tried to raid a munitions depot in Harpers Ferry. It seems that some people will do anything to bring their opinions forward. I hope there will be no more violence anywhere in America, for this is now my home.
October 15th, 1859. I hate the day I left home to this horrid place. I’ve worked for months, earning nothing. I sit here in my room at the ranch, hoping to find a boat that will take me north, anywhere but here. I cannot sit here while knowing that i'm earning nothing for my love back home. I’ve heard of a boat that takes cotton to Charleston, hopefully I can raise some money enough to pay for passage. I also hear the streets there are paved and I hate the feeling of dust on my face. I must keep writing in this journal, for I wish to tell my children one day the tales of my life, they one day will have a better life than me and I will work for the money that will keep my children from experiencing true oppression.[close]
** This Is Only Fiction, I Don't Mean To Harm Anything Or Really Stay Accurate**
GoblinOverlord:
Nice story! Continue this please!
On a side note, me being a dick and all that:
SpoilerThe Dairy of a Soldier.
[close]
Lantking:
Actually So far I'm liking this logs your making of your character
Soons like you got a some free time don't you xD
Roald Hoffmann:
--- Quote from: GoblinOverlord on April 07, 2013, 08:47:44 pm ---Nice story! Continue this please!
On a side note, me being a dick and all that:
SpoilerThe Dairy of a Soldier.
[close]
xD
--- End quote ---
TheSamuraiOfNapoleon:
Good Luck finishing it!
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