| Making the Most of Life |
Chapter 1 |
Page 6 |
It was at Fredericksburg, after a bloody battle. Hundreds of Union soldiers lay wounded on the field. All night and all next day the space was swept by artillery from both armies and no one could venture to the sufferers’ relief. All that time, too, there went up from the field agonizing cries for water, but there was no response save the roar of the guns. At length, however, one brave fellow behind the ramparts, a Southern soldier, felt that he could endure these piteous cries no longer. His compassion rose superior to his love of life.
“General,” said Richard Kirkland to his commander, “I can’t stand this. Those poor souls out there have been praying for water all night and all day, and it is more than I can bear. I ask permission to carry them water.”
The general assured him that it would be instant death for him to appear upon the field, but he begged so earnestly that the officer, admiring his noble devotion to humanity, could not refuse his request. Provided with a supply of water, the brave soldier stepped over the wall and went on his Christ like errand. From both sides wondering eyes looked on as he knelt by the nearest sufferer, and gently raising his head, held the cooling cup to his parched lips. At once the Union soldiers understood what the soldier in grey was doing for their own wounded comrades, and not a shot was fired. For an hour and a half he continued his work, giving drink to the thirsty, straightening cramped and mangled limbs, pillowing men’s heads on their knapsacks, and spreading blankets and army coats over them, tenderly as a mother would cover her child; and all the while, until this angel ministry was finished, the fusillade of death was hushed.
Again we must admire the heroism that led this brave soldier in grey so utterly to forget himself for the sake of doing a deed of mercy to his enemies. There is more grandeur in five minutes of such self renunciation than in a whole lifetime of self interest and self seeking. There is something Christly in it. How poor, paltry, and mean, alongside the records of such deeds, appear men’s selfish strivings, self interest’s boldest venturings!
Page 6