A few months after the War Between the States broke out the news reached us clear out on Ma an Pa’s farm. I was only about 17 years old soon to be 18, really not quite old enough to fight in the war. Ma two older brothers, Buck an Newly, decided that they was goin’ to leave the farm an go join the Confederate Army. I told them, “I’m goin’ to go with ya two. Ya two ain’t goin’ to go fight without me.”

They both told me, “Marty, ya can’t go. Ya ain’t 18 years old yet. They say ya have to be at least 18 to sign up to fight in the war.”

“I don’t care. It’ll only be about three months until I am 18 an by the time we git there an they get us all signed up, I’ll be nearly 18 then anyway. If I don’t go now in three months I can sign up an go fight anyway. Besides, how’re they goin’ to tell whether I’m 18 or not unless one of ya two tell ‘em? I’m goin’ with ya two anyway. By the time we get to the fightin’ I’ll be 18 anyhow.”

They both looked at me an after some hemmin’ an hawin’ they finally agreed with me an all three of us got ready to leave the farm to go sign up. Our Ma hugged all three of us an cried sayin’, “Yer Pa an me ain’t never goin’ to see ya again, Boys. I don’t want any of ya to go. I’m afraid that y’all three’ll be killed in that war.”

Each of the three of us hugged our Ma an we all told her, “Don’t worry, Ma, we’ll be Ok an we’ll be comin’ right back here when the war is over. We love ya an Pa an this farm. We’ll come back here when the war is over to help y’all work this farm like we have been doin’ since we was knee high to a duck.”

Then Pa shook each of our hands, put his arm around our shoulders an told us, “I want ya three boys to come back here to yer Ma an me when this things over.” Then we got on our two mules an headed off fer the state capitol where we signed up to join the Confederate Army.

It took us nearly three weeks to travel the distance from our farm on those mules to where we had to go to where we could sign up. Mules don’t have but one speed an that’s slow. They ain’t like a horse that has more than just their walkin’ gait. An ya don’t want to be ridin’ on a mule when he’s trottin’. Hell, it’s like riding a log wagon across a corn field.

When we got there they asked ma brothers how old they was an they told ‘em. They asked me an I told them I was 18, too. Since I looked a little older than what I really was they didn’t question me any further. Once the three of us was signed up, each of the three of us was split up an assigned into different units. I never saw either of ma two brothers again. I suppose that was because each of our units was sent to a different area to fight in.

Early in the war I had gotten a slight flesh wound but, the medic patched me up an sent me back to ma unit. Ma flesh wound healed up Ok but, it left a big scar that stayed with me the rest of ma life. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have only been wounded that one time an not killed. It couldn’t have been much closer and not killin’ me or takin’ ma arm off.

Several of the boys that was in ma unit was killed an it liked to made me sick when I saw their bodies layin’ there on the ground an they was all covered with blood. To look around the battlefield it was horrifyin’ to see all of the bodies of dead men an boys layin’ there an bleedin’ in the dirt.

As the war wore on I was sent with ma unit further east an I ultimately ended up in northern Alabama near the end of the war. But, I didn’t know that the war was about to be over. I didn’t really know where I was or if it was Alabama or Georgia or I could have even been further north than that in Tennessee.

I think the big reason that I’d not been killed was because I had made friends with one of the older guys in ma unit who told me how to make the lowest profile out of maself during a battle as I could. He always told me to stay down low an take cover whenever I could. Often times he would stand up an pull me down under cover when I was too foolish not to take cover.

Unfortunately, not long before the end of the war he stood up to pull me down to cover an he caught a mini ball round in the middle of his chest. He died from his gunshot wound an I didn’t know that I could ever get over it. I couldn’t forget it fer a really long time. It was like the memory of him was burnt in ma mind an in ma memory. Every time I thought about him layin’ there dead, it like to made me sick.

I knew that I had to go on an forget seein’ him die that way but, I still have the memory of seeing him layin’ there dead in a pool of his own blood on the ground. In April the war officially ended but, we didn’t get the word until much later. Once we was told that the war was over we was released to return to our homes an farms.

I didn’t have much to ma name except the clothes I had on ma back. I also had a Colt revolver that I took off the body of a dead union officer rolled up in ma Knapsack. We were all paid in CS money but, that turned out to be worthless as no one wanted to take it fer payment fer nothin’.

The only thing I could do was to set out walking toward home. I knew it was a really long way home but, I didn’t have no choice. I sure didn’t have a horse or mule to ride so I was afoot. I had really hoped that I might come across ma two brothers but, I never saw them at all an I was really disappointed. I guess I was hopin’ against hope that I’d find either one of them alive after the end of the war.

I could only look fer any work that I could get in exchange fer food an maybe a place to sleep in the hayloft of a barn. Mostly the only work I could get was choppin’ wood or shovelin’ the cow an horse manure out from a livery stable or out of a farmer’s stock barn.

Most of the time I was told they’d really like to help me but, they couldn’t pay me an they didn’t have no food to give me neither. Sometimes I went fer a couple of days without eatin’ nothin’.

It was only about a month after I had been released from the CS Army when I came on this ole boy. It was on a farm well off of any normally traveled road. I don’t know that I had come more than about 30 or 40 miles from where I had mustered out of the army.

The ole boy had a crippled leg an he was standing on his one good leg an a make shift crutch cut from a tree limb. He was swingin’ a double bit ax splittin’ firewood with one hand. I thought, ‘This ole boy is likely to injure himself or possibly kill himself doin’ that with a double bit ax like that.’ He wasn’t gettin’ much done very fast anyhow. It was kind of like me walkin’ home.

When I came up close to him I asked him, “Hey Mister. I’ll chop yer wood fer ya fer a plate of beans an a place to sleep in your hayloft tonight an another plate of beans in the mornin’.”

“Well, just who are ya, young feller?” He could tell that I was a southern boy from the way I talked.

“Ma name’s Marty, Marty Rodriguez.”

“What ya doin’ on ma property, Boy?”

“I’m just headed home an I saw ya here an wanted to help ya out fer ma supper an a place to sleep in yer hayloft tonight.”

“Ya ain’t from around here are ya boy? Where ya from boy? I can tell ya ain’t no Yankee.”

“No, I ain’t no Yankee. An I ain’t from around here neither. I’m from a fer piece far out yonder to the west an south of here. It’s still a fer piece west of that big river we crossed when they brought us up here to fight in the war.

“Have ya just got outa the CS Army then, young feller?”

“Yes sir, I just got out only about a month ago. An I’m headin’ back home afoot.”

“Have ya ever chopped wood before, young feller?”

“Yes sir, from the time I was knee high to a duck. I’ve been choppin’ wood fer ma Ma an Pa back home from the time I was old enough to hold an swing an ax without cuttin’ ma foot off.”

“Well, tell ya what Ah’ll do. Ya chop as much of this pile of wood as ya can ‘fore dark an stack it an I’ll give ya the plate of beans fer supper tonight an another’n in the mornin’. An ya can sleep in ma hayloft fer the night.” as he stepped back he handed me the handle of the double bit ax he’d been swingin’.

I quickly accepted, noddin’ ma head, grabbed the ax handle an I went to work. I sure as shootin’ wasn’t lying to him about ma chopping wood. I chopped the whole pile of wood an stacked it fer him afore sundown.

When he saw that I had finished up the pile he hobbled out there on his crutch to where I was working an said, “Ya work pretty fast, young fella. Come on in an I’ll dish up that plate of beans fer ya.”

I follered him inside with a double arm load of split fire wood. He had motioned fer me to bring it inside with me as he hobbled in front of me. There I put the wood into the wood box next to his ole cook stove.

When we got inside he motioned fer me to have a seat at his table an he dished up a big plate of fatback an beans fer me. Then he said to me, “Ya work pretty good, young fella. Where’d ya grow up being taught to work like that? Ya remind me of ma two boys.

They went off to fight in the war an I ain’t seen ‘em since. I reckon that they was probably both killed in the war an they won’t never be back atall. I sure hoped that they would both come back home alive but, I guess that ain’t never goin’ to happen. An this ole crippled man is still here tryin’ to stay alive on this ole farm.”

“I grew up on a farm many, many mule days ride from the town where me an ma two brothers signed up to fight in the war.”

“Where’s yer two brothers now? Wasn’t they mustered out with ya at the same time ya was?”

“No. We was separated at the time we all signed up. I guess we was all put into different units an I ain’t seen neither one of ‘em since, neither. I sure hope that they will be at home with Ma an Pa by the time I get back there.”

“Well, tell ya what I’m gonna do. Since yer such a good worker I’d like fer ya to stay here with me an help me on this farm. I need to plow an plant ma field an I can’t do it with this crippled ole leg of mine. Without ma boys I’m all alone now an I could sure use yer help. Can ya drive mules an plow a furrow?”

“Yes sir, I did that fer ma Ma an Pa when I was a kid back home.”

“I can’t pay ya a whole lot except a couple of greenback Yankee dollars a week an yer keep.”

“Well sir, let me think on that tonight an I’ll let ya know come mornin’.” I thought about what he wanted me to do overnight. I decided that I wasn’t gettin’ nowhere very fast an if I had a few Yankee greenbacks in ma pocket it would help me on ma way gettin’ home. I wanted to get home as quick as I could but, I needed to eat an a few greenbacks to help me get there would help out a whole lot.

Come morning I was awake at daylight. I got up an went out to take a leak. Then I washed ma face an the sleep outa ma eyes at the ole hand pump over the well beside the house. I went back to the front of the barn an sat on an ole tree stump waitin’ fer the ole man to show up.

Just after sunup the ole boy hobbled out an waived his arm fer me to come on in fer breakfast. When we got inside I sat down at the table where I had sat last night fer supper.

The ole boy went to the cook stove an dished up a plate of beans an two corn cakes apiece fer us an sat them down on the table in front of us. With his crippled leg he laboriously sat down at the table an began to wolf down his beans. About half way through his meal he looked up at me an asked, “Well, what have ya decided to do young fella? What’s yer name again?”

“Ma name’s Marty.”

“Mine’s Aloys but, I answer to Loys. Have all of ma life. Have ya decided to stay here an help me on ma farm, Boy?”

“Yes sir, Loys. I thought about it an I can stay here an help ya plow an plant yer field. Then after that I need to be gettin’ on ma way on toward home. It’s goin’ on nearly five years since I’ve been home an I want to get back to see ma Ma an Pa an I hope ma two Brothers will be there when I get back there too.”

“I can’t pay ya a whole lot, Marty. As I said yesterday the most I can pay ya is a couple of Yankee greenback dollars a week an yer keep.”

“I saw ya have three mules out there in yer pasture, Loys. An I’d be willing to work fer ya fer half that if ya’ll let me have one of those mules, too. They sure ain’t fast but, it sure would be a whole lot better than me a walkin’ back home like I’ve been doing so fer. An ya can see I ain’t gettin’ nowhere very fast.”

“We can do that, Marty. Now clean yer plate an let’s get after it.”

Loys hobbled out to the pasture with me to fetch one of the mules to pull the plow fer the day. He told me, “All three of these mules are good mules but, ya need to stay well clear that they don’t kick ya.

If yer not careful any one of ‘em can kick ya into the next county. That’s how I got ma crippled leg. One of them caught me on ma leg an I ain’t been able to use it since. I sure can’t do a whole lot on this ole crippled leg no more. Not like I used to do anyway.”

We took one of the mules back to the barn an harnessed him an then hooked him up to the hand plow. I started plowin’ the field fer Loys. It took me the better part of two weeks to plow the field he had showed me an then it took another two weeks to break the plowed ground down to where it could be raked an leveled an planted.

When the ground was broke down, raked an ready fer plantin’ it took us another month to plant the field all by hand. One day while I was plowin’ he came hobblin’ out to the field with an ole straw hat in his hand. He handed me the hat saying, “Here, young fella, put this on yer head lessn’ the hot sun bakes yer brains out an it turns yer brains to mush.”

Every day Loys stayed right there in the field with me. When I first started plowin’ the field he told me, “I can tell ya have been behind a mule an a plow afore, young fella. Ya plow a mighty straight furrow, too. He even put a bridle on one of the other mules an he brought water out to me an water fer the mule that was pulling the plow, too.

In the middle of the summer day it was pretty hot in the field. So when he brought the water out to me an the mule I drank as much as I wanted an poured the rest over ma head an ma shoulders. Loys just kind of laughed an said, “I can sure tell ya have worked plowin’ the fields in the hot sun like this afore, boy.”

One day while the mule an I was resting an drinking water Loys said to me, “Marty, ya are a really good hand an I have this small patch of hay in the field next to this field. I’d like fer ya to cut, stack an pitch it up in ma hayloft fer me after we get this field planted. I’ll keep payin’ ya fer the work ya do fer me. An fer this work I’ll pay ya the two greenbacks a week I originally offered to pay ya fer plowin’ an plantin’ this field.”

“Ok, Loys. I can do that fer ya but, I really want to be headed out fer home before cold weather commences to set in. Is that mule yer ridin’ the best one fer ridin’ of the three ya got here on the farm?”

“Yeah, he is. His name is Jack but, he’ll sure kick ya into the middle of next week if yer not careful.”

“Loys, I’ll work fer ya ‘til we get yer hay cut an put up in the hayloft, but, if Jack is the best ridin’ mule of the three I want to be ridin’ him when I leave outa here fer ma home. I’ve got a really long way to go to get home an I want to have the best ridin’ mule I can get fer ma trip home.”

Ole Jack was one of the biggest mules I had ever seen afore. He stood close to 5 an a half feet tall at the shoulders an was nearly as tall as I was at ma shoulders. I almost had to stand on ma tip toes to see over his shoulders. He weighed well over 1100 pounds an was probably closer to 1400 to 1500 pounds. Ole Jack was one of the biggest mules I had ever seen.

Loys was out there with me to help me what little he could with his crippled leg. When we finished plantin’ the field I had plowed fer him he told me, “Marty, tomorrow we need to start cuttin’ hay while the weather is still good.”

That afternoon we finished up our work a little early an Loys told me, “Marty, since we have finished up plantin’ this field, we’ll knock off early today. Let’s head on up to the barn, tend to the stock an put our tools away.

When we got back to the barn Loys asked me to unharness the team an turn them out to pasture an pull the saddle off of Jack an put him in the pasture, too. Then we put the tools up in the barn. I took the harness an saddle off of the team an Jack an turned them out to the pasture. There they could graze on the grass an drink water out of the stock pond overnight.

I came back into the barn an was puttin’ the tools up when I heard voices. It sounded like Loys an a couple of other strange voices. I stuck ma head out the barn door an I saw two men on horseback with what appeared to be guns pointin’ them at Loys.

I quickly stepped back into the barn an got the Army Colt out of ma knapsack an’ quietly walked out toward the two mounted riders. I’d never fired the Colt before an I didn’t know if it would even fire but, I didn’t have the time to find out. I’d just have to take ma chances. I heard one of them yell at Loys, “Where’s yer money, ole man?” I could see that both the riders were holding their guns in their right hands.

Loys spat right back at him, “I ain’t got no money, boy. Now, y’all get off ma farm.”

Then one guy told Loys, “Ya better come up with some money or we are goin’ to shoot ya dead an find it ourselves.” I quietly walked up to within about 30 feet behind them to their left side. Loys saw me an he saw that I had the Army Colt in ma hand but, he didn’t let on that I was behind them.

I raised the colt high enough in the air that I wouldn’t hit Loys or his house an fired one shot over their heads. They both jumped as they sat in their saddles like they’d just been shot.

I immediately yelled out, “Ok, boys don’t turn around, lower the hammers on yer guns an leather ‘em. Then unbuckle yer gun belts an drop them to the ground.” They were both holding their guns in their right hand. I was standing slightly to their left so they couldn’t easily turn around an draw a bead on me from the saddle. I had learned that much in the CS Army. Either one of ya tries to turn around; I’ll shoot ya both dead as a stomped mouse.

They both hesitated a few moments an one of them said back to me, “Ya ain’t goin’ to shoot us. Ya ain’t got the guts.”

I yelled back at them, “I just got out of the army an I’ve done shot lots of scum bellies like ya two just like the ole man there has. Ok, boys, it’s hot an I ain’t goin’ to stand here jawin’ with ya all day. Which one of ya wants to take an army slug in the back first? If ya don’t do as I tell ya, I’m going to kill ya both here in the next minute or two.”

“How big a hole ya think this army slug will make in ya. Ya can do as I tell ya or I’m going to kill ya both an drag yer bodies out to the hog pen fer them to get rid of ya. I’m sure not going to sweat over ya digging yer graves.

Besides, the hogs need some extra something to eat anyway. They’d sure like to root through yer guts an yer innerds when they find ya laying out there in all that nasty hog loblolly.”

They both slowly lowered the hammers on their guns an slid them back into their gun belts. Then they dropped their gun belts to the ground. I told them, “Don’t ya look back, just rein yer mounts over an hightail it out of here. If ya come back on this farm again I’ll kill ya both. An remember them hogs still need to have some extra victuals an ya’d make good hog food. They’d sure like to gobble ya two down as a desert.”

They reined their mounts over an hightailed it off of the farm. I looked at Loys an told him, “Get those gun belts an strap one of them on ya. We both need to wear one from now on in case those two outlaws come back here.” Loys picked them up an handed one of them to me.

Loys looked at me an asked me, “Would ya have really shot them two, Marty?”

“I don’t know, Loys. I sure as tootin’ wasn’t goin’ to let them shoot either one of us. If I had to shoot them to do that I would have. That’s why I fired the shot over their heads to make them really think I would.”

“Well, ya sure had me belivin’ ya, anyway. Besides, I ain’t got no hogs on the farm atal anyway.”

That next morning Loys went to the barn an pulled a scythe off the wall an leaned it up against the outside wall of the barn. He led ole Jack out of the pasture an rode him out to the hay field while I walked beside them carryin’ the scythe over ma shoulder.

He told me, “Young fella we’ll cut a day an rake an put that hay into a haystack at the end of the field to dry out.” Every other day, I picked up what I had cut the day before an put it on the ole hay wagon with the pitch fork. Loys drove the hay wagon fer me to stack it in a hay stack at the end of the field closest to the hay barn.

Each day we started a new haystack to dry in the sun an the hot weather before we hauled it on to the barn to pitch it up into the hayloft. It took over a month of cuttin’, haulin’, stackin’ an then haulin’ the hay to the barn to pitch it up into the hayloft with the pitchfork.

By the time we got all of the hay in, dried an pitched up into the hayloft, it had been over a month an I had been working fer Loys fer four months. I told him, “I think that just about finishes up what I agreed to do fer ya, Loys. I’m going to rest up one day an then I want to be gettin’ on ma way on toward home the day after that.”

“Marty, yer a damn good work hand an I hate to see ya go but, I know ya have to be getting’ on toward home an yer Ma an Pa. The most important thing is that I have ma field plowed an planted an ma hay cut an pitched up in the hayloft. Now I need a good soaking rain on ma newly planted field. I know I have enough hay fer ma stock fer the winter now.

I may even be able to sell some to the other farmers round the area fer their livestock. I really want to thank ya fer all the help ya gave this crippled ole man. We’ll square up what I owe ya come morning, young fella.”

The next mornin after we had our plate of beans, Loys grabbed an ole beat up tin lock box an counted out $30.00 an handed it to me. Then he said to me, “Since there’s so many scalawags, bandits an outlaws around, ya need to put that money in the bottom of yer boot an don’t go showin’ it around to no body ya don’t know, Marty.”

I told him, “Loys, I didn’t think I had that much comin’ fer the work I done fer ya. Did ya make a mistake an give me more than what ya should have, Loys?”

“Nah, Marty. I figured I owed ya $26.00 an I threw in the extra $4.00 fer an ex-confederate soldier that run those two scalawags off the farm fer me. I just wanted to show ya ma thanks fer all that ya have done fer me. I know that is what ma two boys would have been doing all that fer me if they’d made it back home alive after this here war.

An I knowed I couldn’t have ever got ma field plowed an planted or ma hay in without ya. Tomorrow morning after we eat we’ll get ole Jack ready fer ya to head out fer yer home. How fer do ya think ya goin’ to have to go to get back to yer Ma an Pa’s farm, Marty?”

I could see his eyes begin to get a little moist thinking about his two boys. “I just don’t rightly know how fer it is, Loys, but, I hope to be there come next spring. Ya know better’n me that mules don’t never get in no hurry an they don’t walk much faster than a man can. An ya know like I do ridin’ a mule at a trot is a whole like ridin’ a log wagon across a cornfield.”

“Let me thank ya fer all that ya done fer me, Loys. Ya could have run me off of the place the first day I showed up here.” The rest of the day I chopped an stacked as much wood as I could fer him. I even brought in enough fire wood to fill the wood box by the stove fer him an a whole lot more than that. He had fire wood stacked in most ever corner of the house but, I knowed it probably wouldn’t last him all that long.

The next morning Loys came out to the barn an he came out of the barn with a bridle in his huge callused hand an handed it ta me. Then he said to me, “Come on with me, Boy, an ya can put that bridle on ole Jack. From now on he’s yers as we done agreed.” He hobbled out to the pasture with me an I slipped the bridle on ole Jack an laid the reins over his neck. Loys then said to me, “Bring him on up to the barn, Marty.”

I tied Jack’s reins up in front of the barn. Loys hobbled inside an drug out a spare saddle an saddle blanket. Then he said ta me, “This is a spare saddle that I really don’t need no more since ma two boys probably ain’t coming back an I want ya to have it. It’ll make yer trip a whole lot easier than havin’ to ride on ole Jack’s bare back all that way back to yer home.”

“An it’ll be a whole lot better on ole Jack’s bare back, too. Ya can put the saddle on him but remember to stay well clear of his hind quarters. They ain’t no use in ya gettin’ kicked into the middle of next week. Ya know yer Ma an Pa sure don’t want ya ta come hobblin’ back there on one leg like I have ta do.”

While I was saddling ole Jack, Loys hobbled back to the house an came out with two gunny sacks in his hand. He told me, “Marty, one of these sacks has some clothes, a heavy coat an spare shoes that was ma boys’. Ya better change out of that Reb uniform pants ya have got on. They’s a whole bunch of people who will kill ya if they see ya wearing them pants.

“The other sack I put some salt pork an some beans, corn meal an lard in it fer ya ta make corn cakes fer yaself. It also has an ole cast iron skillet I don’t use no more fer ya to cook in, too, since ya’ll have to be cooking over a campfire.

I sure wish I could get ya to stay on here with me on this farm an work it fer me. When this crippled ole man passes on it’ll be yers because it don’t look like ma boys are goin’ to ever make it back here. But, I know ya have to be goin’ on to git back home to yer Ma an Pa an to yer own home an farm. I’m sure they’d want to see ya come home, too. Maybe yer two brothers will be there on the farm with yer Ma an Pa when ya get back there.”

I stuck out ma hand to shake his. As he shook ma hand he put his arm around ma shoulder an said, “I sure wish ya the best an a safe ride back to yer Ma an Pa. Just make sure yer good to ole Jack an take good care of him. Ya take good care of him an he’ll take good care of ya, too.”

I took off the ole straw hat he gave me to wear all year an started to hand it back ta him. He shook his head no an told me, “Ya keep that ole hat. It belonged to one of ma boys an I ain’t goin’ to need it no longer. Ya need it a whole lot more than I do, Son.”

Loys acted like he had got to likin’ me a whole lot while I was there an I liked him a lot, too. He turned out to be like a second Pa to me. He could have run me off of his farm the first day I set foot on it but, he took me in an helped me more than I ever thought anyone else ever would. Loys was a really good man an I knew that I was really goin’ to miss him after I rode off of his farm.

Loys took a short length of twine an tied the necks of the two gunny sacks together an slung them over the saddle horn. As I stepped up in the saddle he said to me, “Son, ya stay off of the main roads. They’s some really mean nasty scalawags, bandits an outlaws out there that’ll kill ya fer a hatband.”

Ya need to travel across country as much as ya can an if ya have to foller the main road stay at least 100 yards off of it. An make sure ya stay clear of ole Jack’s hind quarters. Remember he can kick ya clear into the middle of next week if yer not plenty watchful. Ya don’t want to be hobbling around on one good leg an a stick like this old man has been doing fer a long time now.”