Civil War Memorial.
I have people in this pretty burial ground, and it's on my giant list of places to explore one day. When time allows, of course. I did make a stop to check out the monument. It's an upright cannon, which excites the little kid in me. There's just something about heavy artillery, I suppose. Impressive, especially up close. I imagine the sick feeling of facing the fearsome weapons in battle. Hiding behind skinny trees while watching the enemy load one up. Perhaps a bowling ball sized cannonball that will tear a man in two, and take arms and legs from others. Maybe a load of grape shot, a dozen plum sized steel balls that will bring down the whole front line. It would be a surprise, that you probably wouldn't see coming.
The very best part of this monument is the message, old-timey and poetic. It's split in two parts, you have to walk around the back to read the second verse. Put in a little effort. I like that. It sums up my whole monument mantra pretty well. The itch that produces all of these little history essays.
YOUR SILENT TENTS OF GREEN WE DECK WITH FRAGRANT FLOWERS
YOURS HAS THE SUFFERING BEEN THE MEMORY SHALL BE OURS
Short, sweet, and simple. Just like this post. If we don't remember, who will?
