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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Formative” Down in the Dirt, v170 (the Apr. 2020 Issue)  Order the paperback book: 
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Order this Janet Kuypers writing from her poetry book Every Event of the Year (Volume One: January-June) Order this 200+ page 7½" x 9¼" ISBN# book today of select poetry for holidays and events spanning the first half of the calendar year
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Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Foundations the Down in the Dirt Feb.-April 2020 issues collection book
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get the 322 page Feb.-April 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:
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Quartermaster General, Burying Bodies Janet Kuypers 4/12/19, on the day of the beginning of the Civil War, from the perspective of Montgomery C. Meigs When I came to these United States back in 1837, I shadowed a man who later became my good friend, Robert E. Lee. I became close to him, this leader of men, I really thought he was what a Christian man should be. So we remained friends until 1861, when war broke out here, and Lee decided to desert us, the Union Army, and attempt to lead the Confederate Army. All I could think was that this was a man that I looked up to, I modeled myself after him, and he’s now the biggest traitor since Benedict Arnold? Yes, I looked up to him, but I don’t admire a man who chooses to be in cahoots with rednecks who love slavery, so my only choice was to battle against this man. I’ve seen their home for years, with his wife Mary tending to the most elaborate rose garden; I’m sure she fumed when Robert made her leave her precious roses because of the war. And eventually I became the Quartermaster General of the Union Army; we crossed the Potomac and actually occupied Robert E. Lee’s residence — we even made it our headquarters, when Lee fought Ulysses S. Grant in their 40-day bloodbath massacre; 82,000 people were killed in one month; and I had to deal with all the incoming dead Union soldiers. Every soldier I had to bury made me more and more angry at Lee. But then, my heart was broken when one of the dead soldiers that came to me was my son. My son. No father should bury their own child like this. And yes, what I am about to say makes me sound like a quasi-madman, but I want to make sure that Robert E. Lee can never come back. And if he does, let him sleep amongst Union ghosts. Where do we put the bodies of our fallen brothers? Let’s bury them right here, on Lee’s property. Bury our men around his house, around his porch, and let’s make a big pit for our dead in Mary’s rose garden. # When we won the Civil War, Robert and his wife Mary came back to find that their precious home they loved so much was turned into a graveyard. # I hear that after I died Lee’s land became the heart of Arlington National Cemetery, as a fitting way to honor all of our soldiers. And to top it all off, Mary’s treasured rose garden became the space for the tomb of the unknown soldier. How perfect. The land that I reclaimed from the leader of the south is now, and will forever be, the heartbeat of America. |
