The Journal and Writings of Johnathon L. Krieger

[Commissar_Jimbo]

A Brief History:
Johnathon L. Krieger (myself) travelled to the Americas in order to conduct historical logging and general preservation of that of which goes on during this Civil War, I, myself am I British Citizen who has travelled to this rather gruesome affair to inspire the writing of my book, however, I have been drawn into that of a more interesting development going on generally in the background of this conflict. That of the state of the human brain of these soldiers, and, even myself as death and destruction seems to harp on as if it was the birds chirping. Oh well- I have decided to keep this journal to write upon the goings on I experience and prehaps keep a note of what exactly I learn here...
- Signed: Johanthon L. Krieger.


Day One: The Fence that was shot upon, and never bothered to break.
My first day was rather exciting, a conflict brewed up at Harpers Ferry between that of the 'Rebels' and the Union, I found myself in the company of the Confederate forces for this conflict, and settled in nicely amongst the ranks there. To my surprise, they found the presence of a Britishman during the the whole attack more inspiring then not, to be honest, I had fears of being somewhat outted and attacked for my nationality and the history that it holds within this country but they seemed quite friendly and welcoming. The view in London was that most of the Confederates were somewhat savage, backwards fools - however, we also held the same idea of the Union, so, I suppose it is a general consensis on the image of the American Nation.
The Country here is fairly different then England, the design of everything was so picket fence and wooden - a rather large contrast to the constructive direction home had always gone with the towering brick building with shades of light red and dark green, the depressing foggy dew of the country-side and the constant rain... American felt so much more virgin, and fresh- as if it had no history, despite history unfolding before me...

This day I had met with a Confederate soldier in the midst of the battle, a First Sergeant Walsh of the 38NC.K, we both took potshots towards a bored looking bunch of Union soldiers across the bridge alongside four other soldiers (whom of which I never caught the name of) and spoke of his experiences and such - he seemed rather emotionless about the whole ordeal, mentioning that he "did not mind shooting from distances" like we had been doing at the time, however, he mentioned that "when it became to the close-stuff, with bayonets" he felt rather more uncomfortable, and, in my own description, was more mentally effected and hurt by the experiences. He seemed to be a soldier for soldiers sake - fighting because it was supposed to be his land and such, I'd assume that the confederates thought of the governing powers in Washington was much like being controlled by King George back in the back, being governed by some sort of 'Foriegn Power' despite them living on the same continant, and being generally only a few miles away from each others territorys - I suppose Scotland and Ireland thought of England the same way, prehaps, I will covered a war such as this to great lengths in Ireland or Scotland one day, though, that is irrelevent.
The First Sergeant and I grew uncomfortable in our spot as two of the gentlemen accompanying us were swiftly killed to a shot to the head, after this - we took our leave and retreated from the scene.

It is weird to think that the next week I walked into that place uncontested, and fought with the Union soon after, perhaps some of these men I now stand with for the time being I had shot at or killed the friends of... A rather odd feeling I get when I think of that, an almost sorrowfilled smugness. Prehaps I am mentally unwell, and should forget about it.

The evening after I marched with the Union into some fields, and fought within a Linebattle, meeting a young man named Chicken Nugget who acted as a First Sergeant, despite, being some sort of Military Volunteer and a Private Shaw, who constantly prodded me about questions of Football. I never liked Football, was always a fan of Rugby instead- though, I humoured him and told him of ties to Newcastle FC - despite hating the sport.
I found myself leading the men, and they told me I did an incredibly good job at it - some of those who are unconnected to the regimental system, deciding to follow me around for awhile. I had to ditch them, however, as, I felt uncomfortable jumping side to side infront of those who are clearly loyal to the one faction.
I ended the day settling down in some farm that had been abandoned during the conflict and began to write my first entry whilst drinking some tea - I generally wonder if anyone will bother reading these notes in the future, or if my research will ever be used at all...
I suppose the future shall tell.
For now, I rest and await my next day of action!
- J.L Krieger.

[Commissar_Jimbo]

Day Two: Another fence, though the trees were more helpful this time around.
I found myself serving with the American Union forces today - after waking in my rather nasty tent, I marched upon the marshes with the men, the reoccurring character being Private Shaw of the Fifth New York Regiment who seemed to be their alone. This time we were lead by a younger sounding officer, whom of which was a Captain, who marched us effectively into the middle of a field without ordering us to mount bayonets, told us to fire- and then charge, despite, it being a rather poor choice in tactics.
I am unsure how to take this, perhaps the men who died that day could have been avoided by that of a single stray fire shot taken by your truly - objectively, it'd be murder and an unchristian, and un-gentlemanly thing to do... however, this murdering would have prevented the deaths of a good few men.
War gives you time to ponder and think on rather philosophical issues such as evil and sin, it seems, as science progresses the less we seem to focus and rationalize that of which we hold to be wrong.

Perhaps, this explains further the ideas of the 'beasts of men', that we are creatures of evil and survival like most other animals in this world. I find it rather silly - but, this slaughtering... this 'necessary evil', as one may say - may have saved the lives of some soldiers that day.

As you've most likely assumed, the attack was a failure - not many people wanted to speak to me that day, it was indeed a harsh one, and now morale broke down and everyone turned their eyes to the officer, whom of which, took no notice and simply attempted to charge the same field in the same manner...
These Americans are rather funny, I must admit. But - perhaps there is some psychological link here? Perhaps, those who are lost within their minds are lost within their actions and continue to repeat the same thing over and over again, either expecting something to change - or even, attempting to settling into the comfortable feeling of familliarity in an extra-ordinary war. An odd idea, I know. But plausable.
...Either that or the man is simply a fool and has no right commanding.
- J.L Krieger.

[LeeThear]

Good read, I felt drawn in as if this was a thing that occurred, I’d like to do something similar, but that of a Pvt. in the Union perspective... think of doing that in the company took in bio though... nice job, I’d keep reading these