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.
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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.
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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.
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