CONFEDERATE POWS FILL CAMP DOUGLAS

 

Dear Momma

by Anesia Bolling

Dear Momma,

I know I haven't written to you in a while but this may be the last you hear of me. I’ve been taken to Camp Douglas, an overstuffed and hastily put together prison camp. I don’t even understand why I have been brutally shackled and violently forced into this dingy camp. I walked into the line of fire that day I left the house for work. It was an unpleasant sight. Clotted blood covered the once bright grass. Bodies layed {laid} their lifeless. Some were children who had been playing that horrific day, in the wrong place. I hid in an alley until a strong and rowdy crowd came and shoved me into the back of a black and murderous looking truck. After this I was quickly chained, sat for hours in the rotten smelling truck. It smelled of decaying bodies and unshed tears. 

Once we got to Camp Douglas we were forced through a high fence that stands over us like a disappointed God I have been here for 3 wretched months, so horrid and cruel. I sleep on a makeshift mat outside where they left us because the imbeciles ran out of room in their small tents. I have been murderously beaten for walking slow or just being alive. They force us to grow fruit and vegetables but it’s easily seen the ground is to {too} old {cold?} to sprout. I get stale bread and a small sip of water for breakfast and that’s it for the day.  {I} stole a tomato last week, that’s why I’m writing to you, I was so tortuously hungry I stole and got caught. Now I shall be imminently executed tomorrow at sunrise.

The people walk by me with pity filled faces. I wasn’t suppose{d} to be here! I worked at a candy store not as a soldier. I just needed to let you know my story so you could tell little Sarah, who’s sick with leukemia. Mikey, who was like my shadow. Grandma Sally, who taught me how to tie my shoes, and my blessed Father who tried hard to protect us from this tedious war. I also wanted to write you because it would be cruel if I didn’t. The only good thing is every night I can look up at the sky and see the stars. My dying wish is that I become one of them. So I can watch over you, my family and protect you. I want you to spread my story f unjust treatment s far across America that no one can forget the name Jimmy Ramon Johnson. I will never forget you. I love you all and you all are dearly missed. I’ll see you in heaven…hopefully.

 

Sincerely,

Jimmy

 

P.S. Mother I still smell your rose perfume you wore everyday. Never told you but I like it.

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