“For every Southern boy fourteen years
old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it's
still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades
are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in
the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out and
Pickett himself with his long oiled ringlets and his hat in one hand
probably and his sword in the other looking up the hill waiting for
Longstreet to give the word and it's all in the balance, it hasn't
happened yet, it hasn't even begun yet, it not only hasn't begun yet but
there is still time for it not to begin against that position and those
circumstances which made more men than Garnett and Kemper and Armistead
and Wilcox look grave yet it's going to begin, we all know that, we
have come too far with too much at stake and that moment doesn't need
even a fourteen-year-old boy to think This time. Maybe this time with
all this much to lose and all this much to gain: Pennsylvania, Maryland,
the world, the golden dome of Washington itself to crown with desperate
and unbelievable victory the desperate gamble, the cast made two years
ago...."
William Faulkner, Intruder In The Dust
Wednesday, July 03, 2013
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