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15 Ocak 2023, 20:32
Corporal John G Stephens,*25 years-old, 5th Regiment Infantry U.S. Colored Troops-Formerly 127th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment, Camp Delaware, Ohio. March 1865, General William Tecumseh Sherman's Carolinas Campaign, assault on Kinston and Goldsboro, North Carolina. March 6, 1865. We walk and walk, carrying our guns high on our shoulders, packs strapped tight against our neck, the sweat rolling down our brow. It was an early hot summer in the South, and being a black man, dressed in a full wool Union Blue uniform did not allow for any circulation to cool the skin. But we were proud; we were finally going to fight the fight, not for America or the US, not for unification, but for the freedom of our brothers and sisters from slavery in the Deep South. We had joined in with some other regiments to increase our numbers, and of course; they were black like us. Together we had swept through Savannah fast without much loss among the ranks. General Sherman was dead set on heading the troops north to Virginia and putting an end to this war before Christmas. We had been lucky to avoid the skirmishes in Georgia, there; the fighting was fierce, and losses were heavy for both side. Shiloh, Big Shanty, Chattanooga, Atlanta, Rome, and Macon, those damn Rebels just weren?t going to go easy. I couldn?t blame them, we knew slavery was wrong, but this was the way of life in the south. I was not the man to make order, only to follow orders. We pulled into the little town of Kinston, NC with little fighting or resistance, but then we arrived in Goldsboro. We took the city with the help of another two regiments that day; losses were not heavy, but not light either. Any loss though, brought a tear to my eye, knowing the truth was; this war was not about slavery, it was about sustaining the states and preventing cessation from the North and also the lifestyle of the South. The white officers and enlisted of the Federal Troops were not real different than the people of the south. The northerners just did not call us ?property? and trade us like a mule or grain. As the fighting ebbed late that afternoon, camp was all set, we were instructed to pillage the town for much-needed supplies. Sherman?s idea, travel light, take what you need by defeating the enemy and use their resources. This idea being the reason he was successful. We made out for the inner city from the fields on horse-back for gaziantep escort (http://www.gaziantepkuruyemis.com/) a faster roundtrip, guns in hand, torches ready to ignite. This job of routing had become a job for the black regiments. We split off in pairs for safety, and each headed toward stores and homes or any place that may have had some food or supplies. I took along a Private that had joined us in Savannah, not much older than eighteen, if. We saw just on the outskirts of town what looked to be a little farm and made way toward the location. It was dark and looked to be unoccupied. I ordered the Private to have a look around as I went to the barn. Suddenly, I heard a shot ring out very close. Gun-fire was a norm when breaching a city as many of the citizens tried to protect their lives and property. But this shot was close, very close. I peeked out through the barn door, and there stood in front of me the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my life, holding a shotgun aimed right at my head. She was a lean but petite woman, wearing tethered clothing, with blonde hair and small breast. She looked to be around twenty-five, and other than the clothing; she could have been an angel. She stared me down and said, ?One move, and I will shoot, Yankee!? I lifted my hands above my head, and said, ?Ma?am; I am just following orders and did not come for trouble. I wouldn?t hurt a woman, no matter what my orders were. If you let me, I will leave the Private's horse for you, get on mine, and return to my regiment. But, I certainly could use a few of those chickens for the trade.? She looked me up and down; I am six-two, lean and muscular, not a boy by any means. As she stared at me, my mind began wondering what she was planning in that pretty little head of hers. I asked her name and told her mine, with rank and regiment information. But still, she just stood and stared as if she had never seen a black man. Finally, she said, ?Helen, why does it matter?? ?Well Helen, it is very nice to meet you. I apologize for invading your life. I am sure you know it is a hard time for everyone. I would prefer to not be stealing, and I certainly assure you that I will not burn your farm as many of the other soldiers will, but I must follow orders. Can you understand that?? ?Yes, I understand orders,? she began, ?my husband gave his life for this dreadful war, and we did not own slaves, my husband did not believe in the act. He was from the north, moved here when he was young and felt he was now a southerner. See where it got him, six feet under, and me, his wife of only a year when he left, waiting in tears for months until I received a notice from the Army.? ?I just joined the fighting in Savannah this month, coming from Ohio. I only joined this war hoping to aid in the freedom of our people in the South. But I promise you this; I mean you no harm. I just wanted to get a few of those chickens and be on my way.? She replied, ?Where is your gun? Toss it to me, and do not be cute about it, or I promise I will shoot you where you stand.? I tossed my revolver on the ground at her feet after removing the bullets, pulled up my pant leg and slipped the knife out of the sheath and tossed it as well. I looked at her and asked, ?Anything else I can do to make you feel safer as I stand here?? She looked at me for a moment or two and said, ?Yes, first, remove your clothing down to your drawers. Then you go ahead and get you a few chickens and any eggs you find if you like, but that horse the Private was riding is staying here. When you are done and ready to go, I will give your clothing back; you can redress as you ride away." Then with a pause, she asked, "Let me ask you, have you eaten anything today?? I just looked at her in bewilderment, not sure what to say in response. A gun pointed at me, and now she is trying to be hospitable. I said, ?No ma'am, not since a very early breakfast.? ?Well, come on in here first and get you some food in your belly. You seem to be a kind man, but I promise, just one wrong move, and I will shoot.? I walked in ahead of her; gun still drawn on me, and looked around the small house. Very nice, a humble but comfortable abode. A fire in the fireplace and a small kerosene lamp that allowed just enough light in the room to offer, at any other time, a romantic mood. I asked about a wash basin as my hands were dirty, along with my face. I am sure I smelled like a field rat after a rain. She directed me into a room off to the side where a water basin sat on a table with a towel, and a tub set in the corner by the fireplace. I thanked her and stepped in to clean up. I removed my shirt, used the water to remove a bit of the aroma that arose from my pits just as I heard a slight sound at the door. Not realizing I had not closed the door fully, Helen stood in the opening just eyeing my body in the mirror. She looked at me and said, ?Stay there please, I will return in a moment.? She walked down the hallway and in a moment appeared with some clothing in her hands. A clean pair of drawers and an under-shirt. ?I hope these will fit for you, they were my husband's. Maybe this will make you feel a bit cleaner.? I thanked her and began to remove my dirty soiled clothing completely and then realized she was standing at the doorway. I was not going to object, but rather I continued to cleanse my body with a towel. As I finished, I turned to reach for the under shorts she had given me and she blushed and let out a low soft moan. I looked up to her and saw she had put the gun down, and she was pressing a hand gently to her breast. All the time staring directly at my big black cock. It must have been a long time, or maybe just the size that had her mesmerized, but she had a bead of sweat drawing upon her forehead. I took my cock in hand and asked her, ?Does this scare you Helen, seeing me nude?? She just nodded her head slowly without taking her eyes away. ?Do you want to touch it Helen?? Again, she just nodded and began to step forward. She reached out and took my cock in her little white hand, barely being able to grab half of the girth; she let out a small moan. She*looked at me finally with a tear in her eyes. I said, ?Helen, we do not have to do this, I want no shame to come to your name or your family.? She slowly started moving her hand up and down my cock, stroking it with the softest hands I had ever felt, and I began to harden quickly. As she did this, her other hand reached behind her and untied the string holding her dress. I let her continue to stroke my cock and allowed her to make every move. Helen let go of my cock, but for a moment, as she dropped the dress to the floor. She was wearing a petticoat and camisole underneath and began removal of those items with haste. Finally, she stood there totally naked except for a pair of stockings. She then took my cock in both hands, leaned forward with a slightly open mouth looking for a kiss. I took her small head in my hand gently and slipped my tongue to meet hers as her body melted against mine. I slid my free hand down her side to her back and pulled her tightly to me, to feel her warmth and for her to feel my enlarged and pulsating cock against her belly. As our kiss ended, she stepped back with a tear in her eye and said, ?Oh Sir, I do apologize.