The Golden Sword

The Making of a Legend

There are occasions where stories lay somewhere between fact, fiction and reality. Such tales get passed on when an event takes place, wherein the facts and circumstances are lost to history. The missing details are then replaced by the talebearer's imagination! Only a vague memory is handed down through the generations, each subtracting and adding, to or from the truths of the event itself. The teller of the tale insights the legend by burnishing the more interesting points, for the sake of the telling. Until in due course of time a legend is born! Still we often find that buried deep within the legend itself however; there remain a fragment of an original and true story.
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Is there a Golden Sword buried somewhere beneath the soil of the Southern States, very possibly Georgia, or is this tale merely another fictional story made up by the author?　 The final days before the wars end, the Confederate States was being transformed from a free and independent nation to occupation, there was destruction, death, poverty and disaster everywhere.　 In midst of the mass confusion, history did not always record either the truth or the complete story.　 Is it possible the story is true, we do know that large amounts of gold, seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth during this period, was some it forged into ‘The Golden Sword.’　 Consider this for a moment, what if it is true?
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THE SHIPMENT OF GOLD
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Thus was born the story of a shipment of processed gold on its way from California through Missouri heading eastward.　 It was the closing days of the war, just prior to General Robert E. Lee's surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia.　 A company of Confederate escort troops supposedly took the gold as war booty, while the train was passing through the backcountry of Missouri.　 These men considered that perhaps the Confederacy still might avoid defeat, through the purchase of smuggled repeating rifles.
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According to the story, the gold was transferred from the train and packed onboard wagons.　 Afterwards the band of Confederate patriots crossed the Mississippi River heading eastward through Tennessee.　 Then southward into south central Georgia!　 About this time word came of the surrender, and plans for the delivery of the gold were halted.　 The full company, which had begun the journey from Missouri, had by this time been reduced to about a couple dozen men.　 Each of their ranks varied from colonel to a private!　 What would they do with the gold, they wondered?　 The idea of giving it back to the Yankees was quickly dismissed, leaving only an assortment of other options.　 These Confederate veterans would have to seriously consider their next move!.......
THE DECISION WAS MADE
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After setting up camp for the night, the now bewildered men held a discussion around the campfire concerning this very issue.　 The talents of these men were as varied as their ranks: they had among their meager numbers a couple of merchants, a cabinet maker, cobbler, medal smith, dye maker and a farmer.　 Just to name a few of the occupations represented by this small band of men, the remains of what had been a full company.　 Thus was born the most fantastic story ever conceived in the Southland, and the birth of ‘Quo Aureus Gladius Societas’ - The Golden Sword Society.

It was decided the gold would be hidden away until things died down, thus time passed and soon an entire decade had come and gone.　 The period of the reconstruction was passing into history!　 The Confederate Soldiers who had stashed the gold kept in touch without ever mentioning the gold.　 They had agreed to come together when the call went out from their Colonel.　 The day finally came, and they returned to the sight of their encampment, which had taken place so many years before.　 The meeting was held and it was decided, they would forge the gold into the likeness of a Confederate General’s sword, such as might have been worn by General Robert E. Lee.　 The sword would be the most magnificent sword ever made, of the finest design, and worthy of the masters!

THE GOLDEN SWORD SOCIETY

A suitable isolated location was found for the work, the equipment rounded up, transported and readied.　 The slow careful design, redesign and a study of each phase of the process were undertaken.　 A few days turned into weeks, then months, but finally they were ready for the actual casting.　 The gold was melted down and smelted into the finest sword ever seen upon this earth.　 Out of the process, came the pure golden sword of a Confederate States General.　 The sword was presented to the membership about a week after its completion.　 It was at that time they decided to form The Golden Sword Society, named after the marks engraved on the sword itself "Quo Aureus Gladius Societas."　 The original thinking was, the manufacturers could not be actually named on the sword as was the custom, nor could the owner.　 Thus the Latin words were chosen as an appropriate substitute.　 There would never again be another sword like unto this sword, and it would do great honors to their proud heritage.

It was evening, the sun had set over the western horizon, the weather had turned, and there was a dry electrical storm brewing.　 The occasional flashes of lightening streaked across the heavens, which would briefly light up the night.　 The colonel while holding and looking closely at the sword, carried it with him as he walked outside the small cabin and waved it about in various battle gestures.　　 He pretended for a moment that he was still in combat against the Yankees. Then suddenly, a bolt of lightening struck the sword, knocking the colonel off his feet.　 The men rushed to him, believing possibly he might have been killed by the strike.　 After a brief examination they found him to be in good shape, with no serious damage done.　 The ‘Sergeant Major’, who had assisted, reached down and picked up the sword from where it had fallen onto the ground.　 At that moment it began to glow like all the power of heavens glory, attracting the entire company, which rushed over and gathered around, gazing in awe!
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USE OF THE GOLDEN SWORD
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The pulsating power, which had been radiating from the sword finally died down after a while, but did not go away.　 It was soon discovered the sword would glow with power whenever it was removed from its sheath, then pointed forward and slightly skyward, in the battle ready position.　 It was also found the man, who held the sword while this was happening, would himself begin to glow and radiate with power.　 In the process of testing the sword several times there was a large low-slung tree branch, which had somehow been quickly and suddenly chopped off.　 It happened with such ease it was like cutting soft butter with a razor sharp knife!
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After a few more tests were made it was found the pulsation and power of the sword was constant and without deviation.　 By some unusual happen chance or miracle, what was originally designed to be a ceremonial golden sword, had been transformed into a sword of gallantry and power.　 This made the man who held it, seemingly an invincible super warrior.　 Amazing as it seemed, it was found to deflect rifle fire away from the man holding the sword.　 As if it formed an invisible shield against any incoming shells, which were simply deflected in another direction, thereby protecting him!
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It was during these series of tests that a Private among their group, was returning from a scouting mission so as to ensure they would not be surprised by an unwelcome guests.　 The Private reported that a company of Yankee was in the area pillaging, robbing and even committing rape against the ladies.　 These vile Yankees would even take what little food the locals had in their possession, causing them to face possible starvation alone.　 The Colonel decided this was one band of renegade criminals that would face the Golden Sword.
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He formed up a dozen of his troops and headed toward the Yankee Column not more then half a mile away!　 Soon they were spotted riding leisurely down the dirt road toward a once prosperous plantation, now laying in ruin, but still occupied by the family, mostly ladies, who had been left in poverty by the war.　 The Colonel ordered his men to form a semi-circle around the Yankees just outside rifle range, he himself being the center man.　 Once they were all in position, the Colonel withdrew the Golden Sword from its sheath.
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Then carefully and almost hesitating, he aimed the sword toward the Yankees and slightly skyward as if he were charging into battle.　 The bright blue light from the sword enshrouded the Colonel and his horse, and then seemed to move along the ground engulfing his men now positioned in a semi-circle.　 The Yankees Patrol caught sight of the Confederates, formed up and began to charge; making it only about 20 yards into the wooded area, when suddenly what appeared to be like unto bolts of lightening coming from the end of the Golden Sword struck each of them.
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The Yankees were not only struck dead, but also in effect cremated in the process, leaving no evidence of their presence.　 Suddenly the sword had become far more then that of the gold from which it was forged, it was also far more valuable then the fine craftsmanship, which had given the sword its added splendor.　 It was decided this was a gift from the Almighty God Himself, and only He could determine when and how it was to be used.　 Pending that time it must remain a total secret, even from their relatives and friends.
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SUMMATION
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An oath was taken then and there, whereby each man was prepared to face death, rather then reveille the existence, whereabouts or the power of this contained in the sword.　 Anyone attempting to reveille the secret of the sword would thereby forfeit his life!　 The original members of The Golden Sword Society eventually grew old and one by one, they pass away.　 Generations went by, and the existence of the society as well as the sword was lost to history.　　The　whereabouts　of the sword　became only a forgotten memory!
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However it is believed that somewhere in the south central region of Georgia, hidden in an uninhabited　section of the backcountry.　 There exists a Golden Confederate General's Sword, holding the power to make its bearer an invincible super warrior.　 A sword and a society unlike any other, is even now laying in wait toward that day, wherein someone will once more remove it from its solid gold sheath.　 Then　being　unaware of　its potential, will　hold it in the battle ready position and experience its power, thereby altering history forever.　 Perhaps that someone could by chance, be you!
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However as the legend indicates, it is certain death for anyone to remove the sword from its sheath, save those who are worthy believers, in the just and honorable cause of the Confederacy, and patriots of the Confederate States of America. Therefore a warning is issue, if you should find this sword and become blinded by the gold.　 Look for the Latin words: ‘Quo Aureus Gladius Societas’ then look into your own heart.　 See if you are worthy to withdraw The Golden Sword from its sheath!
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God Bless

The Darkest Day

This article comes to you from a yet future
time; the date is Monday 13 May 2041.
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The time will inevitably come wherein the citizens of the member States and territories of the Confederacy will find their options limited, as they face the unavoidable; either they shall be among those who rule, or else stand with those who are ruled by others. They will become a world-class power or become ever more subservient to those who hold power over them. While this is a lawful peaceful scenario, nonetheless, the issue remains, will we avoid loosing the few liberties we now enjoy, or will we rise up as a people and confront the Yankee Pharaoh.
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We either embrace the Cause of the Confederacy with zeal, or in due course of time we will be reduced to the equivalent of slavery, howbeit by another name. Our choices are simple, rise up and liberate the Confederacy, or else face extinction; there is no third option; those who cannot now comprehend the urgency, will surely do so when it is to late. The following example confronts this very issue of what will happen if we continue along our present course of divisiveness, stalemate and inaction ...
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Thursday 10 July 2036

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"The article you are about to read describes a scenario not unlike that which may happen; if complacency, procrastination and compromise continues, and the Southern People refuse to rise up in sufficient numbers politically, in defense of those things Confederate and Southern. This short article is published in order to deliver a strong message, if possible. My prayer is that we may do so in time, thereby collectively preventing such an occurrence!"

Let us visit that yet future ‘Darkest Day’ that we might see, if possible, what it would be like! The Confederate and or Southern People for whatever reason has thus far stood without any form of national leader, a leadership able to rally the masses in support of our cause. Additionally they have thus far refused to rise up in defense of those things for which their own forefathers fought, suffered, bled and died in agony. Still they instinctive knew that unless conditions changed, our people would surely fall into an even deeper complacency, procrastination and compromise then before. Thereby the light of our movement would grow dimmer, as our cause faced the real and imminent likelihood of extinction.
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Nonetheless they refused to heed the signs, particularly the various organizational leaders, who should have known better, failed to take a strong and decisive stance, outside of divisiveness. Given their mindset, it was not at all surprising that we heard precious little from them, save for the rare chatter over the internet, as well as those occasional boastings over meaningless issues, issues unrelated to a strategy for ultimate victory. These leaders produced precious little outside of well-written clichés and fancy speeches! While they malingered, many among our numbers having been inspired to join, believing the movement held out a viable promise of ultimate victory, began to drift away.
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As a result of these as well as other conditions, there came a dark day the likes of which has never been known in the Southland, which is referred to by those few old enough to recall, as The Darkest Day. This day is even now memorialized among the few among our numbers, with mourning and remembrance; like one would the day of a funeral, with all the appropriate ceremonies. Looking back on it now, it all began when a District Federal Court handed down harsh ruling, which had the effect of sanctioning the outlawing of our history, heritage, culture and symbols, as it relates to the Old South and the Confederacy. The effects of this ruling at that time was placed on hold temporarily pending appeal, eventually the case was brought before the U.S. Supreme Court.
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The Confederate people at that time held out some small measure of hope that perhaps the Supreme Court would overturn the lower Courts, but this did not take place. It was on this the darkest of all days that the Supreme Court handed down its infamous decision based upon a seven and two ruling! In short the ruling stated; "Confederate and Southern history, heritage, culture and symbols, as well as all things related thereto, represent hate, bigotry and prejudice. Therefore it is considered both lawful and constitutional, to forbid the promulgation, display or teaching of the same."
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The effects of this ruling were immediate, and it found our enemies boasting, while gleefully sticking out their chests with great celebration. Merry making broke out all across the land, spilling out into the streets with dancing, drunkenness, noise making and the honking of horns, particularly in the many liberal and black households and neighborhoods. Those we formerly called scalawags, traitors and carpetbaggers stated in their self-righteous tones, " We told you so, all things Confederate and Southern are now legally considered hate, prejudicial and bigotry. We were right all along!"
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These events were quickly followed by civil law suites against any organization or group, remotely connected to those things Confederate and Southern. Many of our Confederate and Southern organizations found themselves in a desperate situation. Their leaders and members alike are hauled into civil as well as federal court. Organizational as well as individual bankruptcy and even suicides followed as families are torn asunder. The mere ownership of a Confederate flag, symbol, book, periodical or bumper sticker, other then possibly as a museum piece, is found to be enough to bring suspicion upon an individual.
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Companies and businesses, which manufactured, distributed and sold various Confederate or Southern items found them selves picketed, many were even stoned or burned. Then came that horrible night in the United States, which was equivalent to the 'Night of the Broken Glass’ made famous just prior to the outbreak of the Second World War. Few if any candidates or politicians could resist jumping onboard the anti-Southern, anti-Confederate bandwagon, as full blown witch hunts against Confederates filled the court dockets, keeping law enforcement agencies working overtime.
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Harsh sentences were handed down against those unlawful citizens who would dare to hold onto any semblance of those things Confederate and traditionally Southern. Those who had formerly preached militancy in the form of militias as the answer to our predicament suddenly found their day in the sun had finally arrived, and the option of military resistance suddenly seems viable, even preferable. This growing militant sector of the Confederate population flowered and grew like weeds in a fertile field. Militias in the member States and territories of the Confederacy as well as other likeminded groups elsewhere, found themselves growing into massive numbers.
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It is during the early phase that a man arrived upon the scene known simply as 'The Gray General.' He was known initially only through rumors and wild stories, which for the most part were found to be unbelievable. The existence of such a man is after all impossible, since the story is was never backed by any solid evidence, sound information, pictures or any identification as to who this mystery man might be. It has been said, if he truly exists, which is doubtful, where is he? Let him show himself! While at the same time, regardless of the disbelief these stories do turn out to be true!
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He quietly and without public notice organizes, trains, unites, expands and equips the various militias into a national class military fighting force. A task which will eventually amaze generations yet unborn, this due in large part to his tactics in carrying out his mission, while casting doubt upon his own existence. He somehow brought about a change in the structure of militias from separate and scattered units to that of a single organized army, answering to a State and National chain of command. An army headed up by a General Staff at various levels!
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This army ended up advocating those very things for which our movement has thus far been unwilling to defend in the public arena, and under a single national leadership command structure. This man known here, as 'The Gray General’ soon became the 'Commander - Unified Confederate Forces' and came to be known throughout the militias as "U.C.F." Unknown to the mass propaganda media, they themselves would unwittingly become the instrument whereby the U.C.F.'s command orders were communicated throughout this new Confederate Army. This would be accomplished through the use of planted and baited stories carried in the mass media press!
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Many millions of Confederates who have previously refuse to stand up for the cause for various illegitimate reasons, suddenly found the time and inclination to do so, now that life itself is on the line. Suddenly and without realizing, our occupational armed forces became the training grounds for a ‘reborn’ Confederate States Armed Force. Those people unknowingly ended up training our Confederate Troops, as well as arming and equipping them with the latest technology, simply because so many of them wound up doing so, as it were, under cover. This situation developed behind the scenes while celebrations and court litigations at every level were taking place, as Confederates organized ever so quietly and completely unnoticeable by the public, or the various government agencies.
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Those people's own military and governmental structure becomes totally infiltrated, an event which itself continues on course and totally unnoticed. Thus those peoples own military and police forces, gradually begin to switch loyalties and pass into the status of a Confederate Command. Those peoples own oath of allegiance is eventually used as a weapon against them! This occurred within both political and militarily arena, based upon as a result of their own enforcement, and of a twisted interpretation as to the letter of the law in regards to the text of their Yankee Constitution, particularly in regards to the provisions of the 10th amendment.
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Many of their own people while in key positions of power are accused of supplying confederate literature and materials. Interesting enough it is our own people who bring these charges in order to have certain individuals removed from power! During this period of time the international involvement of our occupational forces both in the diplomatic and military arenas, hold the complete and undivided attention of the public. Thereby the creation and growth of our Confederate Armies had unfolded without the civil population taking any particular or special notice. Additionally there were only be a few individuals among the many developing militia commands who managed to realize the full impact of what was taking place.
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These developments eventually came as a total surprise, even to our own growing Confederate military forces commanders. This process was so well orchestrated it has thus far turn out to be similar to the story of the Trojan horse! The Unified Confederate Forces already has become a formidable and dynamic force, long before their existence is even realized, and well before those people began to comprehend, that the Confederates have penetrated the walls of the empire. They are even now moving about as members of the Active, Reserve and National Guard Commands, drilling and holding key positions.
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Even while using 'those peoples' own command and communications networks, in behalf of our Unified Confederate Forces. This has come to pass in the guise of normal household traffic! The most effective strategy in this struggle had been, in the normal course of operations, handed to our modern Confederate Officers, when our occupational forces institute a program of cleansing the military of all rudiments of those things confederate. These tactics came as a direct result of the Supreme Court Ruling! However, the process in this case has in this case been turned against those people, resulting in a reversal of what began as our ultimate defeat, and transforming it into a strategy for victory.
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The result has been that our officers will be placed in command of large and critical areas of 'those peoples' own armed forces. Once the complete scenario is in place, the darkest of all days will then come upon our occupation forces. The doors of the Trojan horse will then begin to swing opened, releasing the dogs of war and a war the Confederates will surely win. However not at all for the reasons most of our people might believe! Using the example in the title of the movie First Blood, one side or the other eventually becomes the first to shed blood. The outbreak of war began when a National Guard Unit is activated and ordered to quail an 'out of control urban celebration', which was then underway in a certain Southern university town.
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The party had developed into a riot, which was brought on by over zealous celebrators, as a result of the Supreme Court decision! Unknown to the many partygoers the National Guard Unit has been totally infiltrated by loyal Confederate troops, so their intention was to crush the riots, and do so very quickly upon arrival. These troops were believers in peaceful protests to be sure, but were not about to tolerate the destruction of their own towns and cities. Therefore the rioters goaded them upon their arrival, even throwing homemade gasoline grenades at the troops, inevitably provoking the National Guardsmen into necessarily responding.
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Thereby allowing the National Guard no option, but to open fire with various automatic weapons. The war therefore began out of a necessity for self defense against armed, and out of control rioters! The ongoing destruction of property, looting and bloodletting by the rioters was soon brought to an end, resulting in approximately 5,500 dead among their numbers. Later it was discovered that about two thirds of those killed in the riots had been bussed in from northeastern States for the sole purpose of ensuring the Supreme Courts ruling would be immediately enforced. Until they allowed their celebrating to get out of control, and it became a case of mass destruction and chaos!
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The war would turn out to be devastating for both sides, resulting in a 25 percent Confederate loss of both the Confederate forces as well as the civilian population. Beyond a doubt the Yankee side faired much worse, suffering approximately 40 percent loss in all categories! While the Confederate forces had been out numbered four to one, the Confederate victory had been attributed to better generals and tactics. Thereby rather then fight a concentrated, confrontational war, as their Confederates forefathers had done during the War for Confederate Independence, the modern day battle strategy had been to decentralize.
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Whereby in earlier days we hurtled our troops against what amounted to a wall of musket fire and grape shot, in what amounted to a series of death charges. This time around, our forces had adopted a guerrilla war strategy, using the tactic of hitting the enemy unexpectedly, and where it hurts most! Confederates had attacked such places as fuel dumps, railroad engines, munitions warehouses, power plants, as well as communications, and in particular, striking at the area very area of their vulnerability, their dependency on computer systems and technology.
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Our forces had carried out a series of 'strike and disappear raids’, doing so often and repeatedly, until the enemy suffered an untenable rate of personal and re-supply losses, with little to show for a gain. Our generals would then scatter our attacks in such a manor, so as to ensure the war is not fought merely on Southern soil, but so it would be extremely devastating to the enemy’s own homeland. Thereby taking the war directly to the aggressor own backyard! Politicians on both sides had thus far been kept busy throughout the war, forging coalitions with various allied nations.
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Attempting to ensure that neither side is attacked by outside forces in an attempt to take advantage of the situation! The greatest of all wars had begun in what will eventually become known as the 1,000-day war, which culminated in a negotiated peace. This negotiated peace was arrived at on the strictest on terms, and favorable to the Confederacy, thereby making possible the independence of our nation, the Confederate States of America. The terms of the negotiated peace turned out to be a very costly affair from the viewpoint of our occupation forces.
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The Confederate side managed to agree among other items to a policy of no militarized borders, however the United States inevitably accepted the entire undesirable, illegal immigrants, as well as the return of its own carpetbaggers, scalawags and traitors from the Confederacy. Since the Yankees encouraged and promulgated homosexuality and racial preferences, they were also required to accept these same people as permanent guests, within their own borders.
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"The story you have just read is quite unbelievable, which will make its coming to pass even more likely. Just as in a 'stage play' actors play their part, based upon his or her own individuals talents and sense of honor, or lack thereof. These things, like the stage play, will be caused to happen, they will not take place by happenchance!"
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God Bless

Battle of Griswoldville Georgia

The face off with General William T. Sherman!

History is not an absolute, but cause and effect: Change the cause and you alter the effect. What if a single decision or battle had went the other way? Perhaps an election had turned out differently! We as individuals are capable of altering the future course of history by our activism, or lack thereof. Imagine with us for a moment, certain historical events had indeed taken an alternate course.
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 "Victory is for those with the persistence and fortitude to resist the temptation to withdraw or whose resolve has been tempered, when conditions worsen and the cost rises; it is not for the weak hearted, nor those who are softened by the ease and comfort of a gilded cage, provided by the enemy at the cost of liberty.

It is for those who continue to fight the good fight, even after others who have gone before, having faced overwhelming numbers and firepower found themselves unable to complete the mission." --- Jay Buckner. In any case Confederate Fiction allows us to dream and envision victory; otherwise "where there is no vision, the people parish." {Proverbs 29:18}

The story told here is not my story, rather retold exactly as related by a dear friend, the late Mr. Elgie Barker, who passed away on 28 December 1995 at the age of 78 years. Mr. Barker was a Southern Gentleman in the truest sense of the word, but more important to the story, he was by his own definition, a 'Negro' and a 'colored man.' While relaxed he reverted back to what I considered his true dialect, that of the Ole South Negro. But he could also speak in the modern context of our times when called upon to do so. The family cared for their totally disabled adult son Rochelle Barker! 

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I knew the family for about ten years or more prior to his death, and daily transported their son to various activities and medical appointments. On one such occasion a prolonged delay at the Barker residence gave us time to speak and it being a pleasant day, we did so. Every one being inside the house and the two of remaining outside and standing along side my large cargo size van, old Mr. Barker began to speak.

"Thomas, I am gettin' up in years - my time draws near. I have a story and I'd like to tell it before it can't be told. I am a native of Georgia you know, but what you don't know is my Grand pappy was a Confederate Soldier - died in that terrible war, fightin' those Yankee folks. The story I want to tell you, won't be found in no 'White History Book.' But it happen just the same!"

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"When all the white folks went off to do the fightin, only the women and the colored folks were left behind to do the work. We were treated good, not like them Yankee folks say now a days - it was alright. We took care of the plantation and saw to it the women were all right. We wanted to go fight too and not many of us colored folks got to go at first, but later many did. The fightin' wore on and the victories turned to loss, as our boys began to loose ground. Finally the summer of 1864 came and rumors had it that the whole Yankee army was outside of Atlanta. 
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Us colored folks got real concerned, because we heard that fella Sherman was killin' and burnin' everything in his path - killin women, children, colored and white alike. So some of us got together and went to the white ladies so as to say how we felt. We said, sooner or later this Yankee Sherman and his army is comin our way and we'll all be doin some fightin and diein' soon enough. We said; could we form what you white folks call a militia, so we would be ready. The ladies said all right, so we began preparin' - We over heard all about such things from those white boys, before the war. So we chose us a Commander"

"It wasn't long in comin' and we soon heard Sherman had burned Atlanta, killed all kinds of people and was now comin' out the other side, headin' this way. We rounded up such weapon as we could find, some were old revolutionary muskets left behind, machetes, pitchforks and even clubs. But still we had no fightin flag. All the cotton and wool was gone to the war, so we rounded up what rags that we could and made us one of them Confederate Battle flags out of them rags.

The colors didn't come out too good, but we had a flag. Come the day when we were fixin' to march off to face down Sherman's Army, we gathered in the town square, 300 of us. Raggiest army I ever did see. We'd be out numbered over 200 to one, but that's all right, it was our homes and families too, and we'd fight to defend them. What a motley bunch we were, daring to face off with the mightiest' army in the land.

"Those 300 colored men and their Confederate Battle Flag sewed out of rags - Had I been alive back then, they would have had 301, because I would have been amongst them." Ole Mr. Barker looked far way into yesteryear as he was telling his story, and he finished. "Before we left to face off with Sherman an elderly colored lady come up to our new commander and spoke to him. If'n those white boys couldn't stop this fella Sherman, what makes you think you can?

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The ole colored commander paused while looking back at the lady then answered, "I don't know about such things" he said "but if Sherman's fixin' to come through Georgia, he'll have to come through us." "Thomas," he said, "300 colored Confederates marched off that day and face off with this General Sherman. Takin down as many of them Yankee soldiers as they could. Only three came back, and my grand pappy wasn't among them that come back."
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Ole Mr. Barker still far away, he looked at me with glassy eyes and said to me, "these modern African-Americans like so many modern white folks, couldn't cover one inch of the ground those colored Confederates stood on." After hearing that story, I was deeply moved! I've never had to face those kinds of odds in peace let alone in battle and while so only men such as these can only talk of heroism.

But these are heroes of the highest order and as for me; I'd build a monument as big as a house to these 300 brave Soldiers of the Confederacy. These men were in every respect Southern Gentlemen. Mr. Barker had one last remark before closing his story. "Thomas," he said with deep emotion, "I'd give every thing I own in this world if I could but hold in my hands that Confederate Battle Flag made with rags, that my grand pappy and those motley 300 men carried off when they face off with Sherman."

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The story you have just read as I said, is not my story, so I can only relay the story as told to me, beyond that each individual must each judge, for ourselves. As for me, based on the honor and integrity of Mr. Elgie Barker, I believe the story to be true. I was invited into the Barker home many times and once I was even asked to wear my Confederate Uniform, so their disabled son could see what a real Confederate looked like, since the son could not get out in order to attend the local reenactments.

I even held a kind of humorous reveille on him one morning at the family’s invitation, and drafted their son into the Confederate Army, in which he found great joy. Lying across the mirror of his dresser was ever so carefully draped a Confederate Battle Flag and upon his dresser were several audiocassette tapes of Confederate Period Music.

God Bless

The Hall of Heroes

The story you are about to read, was it simply an ordinary dream, a big imagination, or perhaps a prophesy from a yet future time?

History is not an absolute, but cause and effect: Change the cause and you alter the effect. What if a single decision or battle had went the other way? Perhaps an election had turned out differently! We as individuals are capable of altering the future course of history by our activism, or lack thereof. There are those who will maintain that a gradual process has been underway since the surrender of our Confederate Armies to reverse the conditions of our occupation, while others believe it will require drastic action.
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However, regardless of one’s feelings it is apparent that under a free and independent Confederate States of America the heroes of our past will be respectfully honored. In any case, Confederate Fiction allows us to dream and envision victory; otherwise "where there is no vision, the people parish." {Proverbs 29:18}. Those who read the following story are free to call it fiction, a dream or else a vision, but having experienced these events, only the Almighty and myself know the difference.

We had revisited Charleston after so many years since the fall of what we now record in our history as the Yankee Dynasty. Oh, the United States survived the fall alright, but it is much smaller now, and the paradox of it all is that their so-called union was reduced to thirteen States, the same number as when it began - almost as a reminder of their past arrogance and corruption. Now they have returned to the roots of their original republic, which indeed they certainly did with the liberation and years of restoration of the Confederacy and its glorious institutions.

The States that remained in the union regained their sovereignty just as much so as had the States in the Confederacy. All the doom and gloom predicted by their own mass media liberals never came to pass. The trucks and trains still roll onward: North, South, East, and West. However economically we all gained by the disbanding of the heavy bureaucracy 'those people' had constructed. The Southland now seemed almost as if the years under conquest, occupation, subjugation, and cultural cleansing had never occurred. Even our Confederate and Southern names have long since been restored to our cities, streets, parks, and monuments.

The once influential organizations which caused so much disruption in society, the so called 'civil rights' groups, fell on hard times once the Southland was again a free and independent nation. Most States placed them in the very category they imposed on others: 'hate groups,' a name they have well earned! All the propaganda about how Negroes would be treated in an independent Confederacy also never happened. About 15 percent of the black population headed north or into the far west when our independence came and a large number have since returned. They found out things aren't so bad down south after all. One change our people insisted upon, the Confederate States Government, unlike that of the United States, has been forbidden from enumerating the population by race, or could they entering into the race question in any fashion. The individual States naturally regain and retain their sovereign right of choice in such matters.

How did it all begin? Well, that's another story, but for now: we were leaving Charleston, heading northwest toward Columbia. I recall this same route of travel during the hey day of the Confederate States nationalist movement, back when we were first organizing the Confederate Alliance, which eventually lead to our independence. Now there are absolutely no public schools and our children are all taught in private institutions the truths of our history, heritage, culture, as well as faith in the Almighty God of Heaven. I had always wanted to visit Charleston, somehow even when we held our meetings in that fair city we never really got to visit the various historic places.

Anyhow, I am glad we got to visit them now, at this time, and under conditions of a free Confederacy. We Southerners can more clearly face the past because we now have a future, and one of our own choosing. There seems to be a spirit in the air these days, as if our forefathers are looking down upon us and saying "well done." Even the nobility, splendor, and grace once present in Southern life have again returned to society in our reborn Confederate nation. The streams of tourist, which have arrived here from around the world, quite clearly notice it: It's just different!

As we passed beyond the view of Charleston, we had to make one more stop before Columbia, the site of the newly opened Hall of Heroes. In the distance we could see the sign pointing back off the highway to the right, and it couldn't be more then 15 miles out of Charleston. Even the sign really wasn't a sign, but a monument to Jefferson Davis looking toward the entrance, as if saying "stop by and take a look."  
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The monument is so colossal, it is not likely to be missed, and its purpose all too obvious. We pulled off the highway into the entrance leading to the parking area. No automobiles were permitted on the actual site of the Hall of Heroes as an everlasting respect to the memory it commemorates.  Looking at the front gate, it was like nothing else one has ever seen. It was wide with a large pedestal on both sides, each pedestal measuring seven feet high, and having archangels mounted upon each, standing thirteen feet high.  
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The angels each had one set of wings stretched inward toward each other, the space between their outstretched wings was said to be exactly seven feet. A series of quotations from the Holy Scripture had been beautifully carved into the pedestals upon which each angel stood. The booklet they give everyone at the Hall of Heroes indicated the size of the property to be in multiples of seven and thirteen. A solid wall marked the boundaries of the property on all sides, which was seven feet high. The wall, it is said, contains a pedestal every thirteen feet on center, whereon stands a cherubim about three feet high, and facing inward. Quotations from the Holy Scripture had been carved upon the pedestal below each of the cherubim.

As we approached the gate, well-dressed Confederate troops - equipped with the latest rifles, all highly polished - came to attention. The brochure said no one could enter except by the main gate, and pass these guards. It is said that tradition so much prevails here that deliveries must be reloaded from vehicles onto special made horse drawn wagons at the rear, wagons that are themselves like none you ever saw on earth, and drawn by the finest horse flesh available, specially groomed. We later saw these horses. They were large with shining coal-black coats. Horses well feed and cared for in the finest way. The rear of the building had no pillars, but rather a spotlessly kept platform. We weren't told the exact size of it, but given the size of everything else, it was likely in multiples of seven and thirteen.

The building itself had 26 huge columns along each side and thirteen across the front. But again, back at the gate as we approached, we were faced with the most magnificent sight I have ever seen. As we passed under the archangels with their outstretched wings we saw a wide polished walkway, appropriately similar and as wide as the entry gate, having thirteen large trees on each side as well. Between the trees evenly spaced in rows on each side, we saw thirteen large monuments in perfect ranks; twenty six in all: first a monument, then a tree, rotated in that order. The grass was manicured, thick, even, and lush; almost perfect like an expensive carpet........
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The trees and monuments were well kept and stood opposite from one another as if in ranks. It was said these numbers represented the original thirteen Confederate States; two monuments and two trees standing in the stead of each. The images on the monuments faced each other across the expanse of the walkway, and lined up in alphabetical order, beginning with Alabama. The pedestals of these monuments were seven feet high and thirteen feet long. Again, quotations from the Holy Scriptures were carved upon their base, as well as a brief historical record. Atop the pedestals were mounted horsemen, perfectly carved with full accoutrements and ready for battle. They were all heroes of the Confederacy, two from each State.

We came to the foot of the steps, which numbered 26 in all, leading to the main entrance of the building. The steps were constructed in a series of thirteen steps then sort of a platform upon which there was a monument, then seven more steps, then a small platform, then six steps. Positioned n the middle of the first series of thirteen steps stood a huge mounted knight riding upon a steed. The horse reared up high upon its hind legs, and poised as if kicking in the breeze.  The rider was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit of armor. In his left hand, outstretched was sword in the charging position, raised nearly skyward. The horse was obviously suited in armor, like unto the rider, wearing a breast plate in the front below his mane. Written in large Old English letters was the CSA motto, Deo Vindice.

Even from our lowly position, we could see the sword to be one of a Confederate General. But what was unusual was that it was in his left hand, second, it being turned toward the right slightly so the wrist guard could be clearly seen, bearing the letters C.S.A.! The rider also carried a warrior’s shield in his right hand, which bore on it in full size a print of the Confederate Battle Flag. Between the upper two arms of the St. Andrews Cross was the Celtic Christian Cross, beautifully carved. We were told the statue exemplified our Lord Jesus taking command of the Confederate States Nationalist Movement........
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Then we walked up the large stairs! As we did so, we saw huge standing statues of Confederate Heroes being thirteen feet high, placed between each of the huge columns on the three forward sides of the building: about 63 in all, having carvings at their base. I looked up on the front arch of the building and noticed the engraving of the twelve apostles with Jesus Christ in the middle at the last supper. The columns at the top of the steps were so large in diameter that it took two people with arms stretched around the outside in order to touch. They looked like marble, but we were told the material was better and more durable. I don't know what that may have been, but it definitely wasn't concrete. Clearly seen above us as we approached the top step, along the upper beam of the building, were in large letters "I am hath delivered thee." I would guess the building to be about twice the size of the Parthenon in Greece, maybe more........
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We approached a set of double doors that were thirteen feet high and very massive, but seemed to be very well balanced, because they opened easily. The doors were carved inward and outward with the story of the deliverance of the Confederate People from occupation and subjugation. The scriptural verses from Ezekiel 37:1-10 was inscribed thereon, and in story form, likened our nation's story to the biblical account of the Valley of Dry Bones........
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As we entered, we found ourselves in a large outer room faced with two massive pillars one on either side, about seven feet from the door and heavily carved with the story of the Southern People and of the Confederacy - images of heroic battles and heroes known to all of us. The decor about the ceilings were of angels and cherubim’s and between them they were large enough to be seen from the floor, carvings of the various State and regimental flags used during the War for Confederate Independence........
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But all these things were minor when compared with what we beheld directly in front of us. The wall as we entered had upon it from ceiling to floor a scroll rolled out and carved in Old English the words "Scroll of Honor." Below were carved what appeared to be the beginning of an unfinished list of heroes. The wall and the scroll being so massive, all the heroes of the Confederacy would easily fit on a small portion, with most of the space to spare. But the names had obviously written so as to be seen from the floor. I couldn't help but notice, the first name on the list was "Sam Davis" hero of the Confederacy........
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I ask the tour guide why Sam Davis was first, though I didn't question, in my view he certainly had earned that right. "Because," said the tour guide, "Sam defined for all time the word honor; performing a selfless deed, that rather than betray a friend, he would thus lay down his life, and happily, yet while being so young, with all of life lying before him." What is it made of, sir," I asked? "Polished bronze," came back the answer, with a recently invented coating to preserve it, as is, maintenance free. One could read the carving, both in imagery and in words, and would know the entire history of the Southern People and the Confederacy........
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On each side of the huge bronze scroll was a set of double doors, not unlike those at the entrance, which lead to what was called the Great Hall of Heroes. The tour guide told us; "Beyond these doors, you will find heroism such as seldom recorded in the annals of human history." These doors also were heavily carved, and like the others were of the heaviest wood, almost like stone, yet they opened like a feather! The tour guide told us, it would take a large crane to pick up one of these doors, and to take one down and repair it would be a major piece of construction work.
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I was about to enter the 'Great Hall of Heroes' when the voice of our Lord called unto me, instructing me not to enter into the great hall - that another shall enter in your stead. I departed, and while disappointed, still I had seen more than I had ever imagined possible to see in one lifetime. I did not question why our Lord denied me entrance beyond the doors in to the 'Great Hall of Heroes.' But as I passed out of the property, stopping at the great monuments and reading names like: Nathan Bedford Forrest, John Hunt Morgan, Albert Sidney Johnston, Robert L. Dabney, Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and on and on, down a seemingly endless list of names, I knew what it was all about! Not hero worship, far from it: It was the remembrance of the price of liberty, and the cost of not being vigilant.

On the way out of the main gate, we saw a sign, which was very plain in its design, given what all we had seen. It read, "Remember always, least ye forget and history repeats itself." As we got in the car, and drove off down the highway, we were all within our own thoughts at what we had beheld, and none of us could speak for sometime. "Least ye forget, I thought: Those words rang in my mind! Let us pray always that we be found worthy of the good graces and the Divine Providence of the Almighty God, who hath vindicated our just and honorable cause.

God Bless