The Time Soldiers

Confederate Legion Alphabetical Menu Confederate National Flag Must Read Stories Confederate History Menu Dreams and Visions Feature Articles Humor Central Inspirational Stories Short Story Time The Chaplain's Corps Window in Time Angel in Gray Alein Ghost Soldiers Bibles and Guns Confederate Holidays Marriage and Divorce Modern Warefare My Boyhood Church Pride in my Flag Pilgrimage to Masada Proclamation of Independence Take Me Home The Confederate Cause The Ten Commandments Winds of Atlanta Women in Men's Apparel Contact Us

Welcome Onboard

The Time Soldiers
The Confederates Have Returned!

It is possible the mindset, principles and attitudes of many of our Southern Soldiers of the late War for Confederate Independence, has somehow crossed the barriers of time and space, and then transposed themselves into the 21st century?  We indeed have a collective memory of the Ole South and Confederate States of America, a memory, which goes deeper then what, which we have read in revisionist history books?  It is as if all that it means to be Confederate and Southern, has literally stepped out of the pages of time and history, in the form of Confederate Soldiers from out past times.  Is it possible that ‘Time Soldiers' walk among us?  The names of people and places in this story have been fictionalized, for the safety and anonymity of those involved?

 

 .
.
It was early October 2000, the family and I had decided to take a vacation, using an unexpected return on an old job I once held. We had received a kind of a back payment, whereby I had been short changed by a few dollars each month, while investing in a retirement account. So the entire amount had collected over the years and provided what we needed most, a short vacation.  We decided to head to the Smokey Mountains for some beautiful scenery, afterward we cut across Highway 64 from Chattanooga Tennessee to Memphis. Ultimately we'd stop in Jackson in the central western portion of the State.  We arrived at the little crossroads town of Pulaski, not far from the Tennessee Alabama line, maybe half the distance between the two major cities.

We had been on the road for sometime, so we decided to top over for coffee and maybe a meal, at a local restaurant. The place we found reminded me of one from out of the 1950's with booths and a counter.  Even had the now extinct, coin operated juke boxes in the corner, and we discovered it still worked. However while it looks the same, the electronics had been completely reworked and updated.  The armature still moved, laying down a record but that was just for show.  The owner obviously had a severe case of nostalgia, or else just liked to toy with such things. It had been about nine months since the large 8 January 2000 Confederate Heritage Rally in Columbia South Carolina.  My wife and I wondered if any growth in the movement would come as a result!

We had hardly got seated and made our order, when a gentleman approached our table. We shook hands and introduced ourselves, followed by the normal greetings and chatter.  The gentleman appeared to be about 42 years of age, clean cut and proper.  Then he ask me, "don't you remember me? We met at Columbia South Carolina in front of the Capital Building!"  After thinking back and listening to his reminders it came to me, we had indeed met at Columbia.  "Well he asked; what brings you to Pulaski?"  After pointing out that we were on vacation, we invited him to sit down and join us, which he did.  There upon he called for a small order of his own.

We quickly renewed our acquaintance as we began to eat, whereupon he asked if we were staying for the night. We indicated we had already book a motel room and would be in no hurry departing in the morning.  He stated that a group of Confederates were meeting this very evening, and asked if we'd attend. Seeing we had nothing particular scheduled, we agreed, so he told us the time and place.  Indicating we should arrive casually dressed!  After following his directions, winding back and forth through a few country roads we found the place about five miles northwest of town.  It was an older model farmhouse, well maintained and sitting on a sizeable and beautiful tract of land, looking to be at least 100 acres or more.

Obviously the present tenant was no farmer, and the property was overgrown with shrubs and trees.  Accept for a well-trimmed space of approximately the size of an acre where the house stood.  Still I had the distinct feeling, he and his wife loved it exactly as it appeared.  It was about 6:15 in the evening as we turned into the driveway, which extended about 75 yards from the two-lane road at the front of the property, his wife and 18-year-old son where there to greet us, as we entered and went inside, exchanging a little small talk.  Are others coming I ask, or is this meeting for our benefit only?  "We will meet the others in about 45 minutes.  The meeting place is down an old pathway through those woods yonder, and on the far side of the trees.

Our wives might want to stay here while we men proceed alone on foot, if you don't mind sir.”  Soon we were ready to proceed, and were heading out the back door and down a well trod pathway into to the woods.  It was probably a couple hundred yards before we came upon what reminded me of an army or marine encampment.  There were several buildings with training grounds in the middle and sentries all about.  I began to wander what had I gotten myself into?  As we approached, we paused before a sentry who saluted our host, and called out, "Good evening Colonel Baker."  While it was getting dark, there was enough light from the moon and the campsite that I could see, the soldier was not wearing a typical militia or army uniform.

It was camouflage all right, but decked in Confederate accoutrements.  While I am no weapons expert, the soldiers in the camp appeared to be armed with some very fancy automatic weapons, including shoulder held rocket launchers.  The only rifle description, which comes to mind, is the AK-47 assault rifle, but I might have been wrong on that count.  We entered a certain building and were immediately greeted by several officers and a Sergeant Major.  While we spoke, the Sergeant Major departed and returned a while later, reporting to Colonel Baker; "Everyone is present and accounted for sir!"  During this time, Colonel Baker had excused himself for a bout ten minutes and returned in uniform.

I walked to the window and was startled at what I saw; column after column of troops, well armed and deck in the modern uniform of real Confederate Soldiers and fighting men.  They appeared to be sharp and disciplined, having exceptional military demeanor. Except for their unit patches and national symbols, this scene could be strait out of Fort Bragg North Carolina.  Turning to the Colonel I felt I had to speak my piece.  What is this Colonel; what have you built here?  Looking me straight in the eyes he stated with a hard strong look; "We are the remnants of the Confederate States Army.  Contrary to what is taught, the entire Confederate Army did not disband in 1865, and at least this one has survived throughout the years.

Shortly after the war, this Tennessee Regiment pretended to disband, even handed in our weapons.  Years later, when things cooled down enough, we regrouped according to plan, and began to rebuild.  Our troops come from all over South Central Tennessee region, and meet here once a month. At other times we meet by companies, in our local areas.  You sir, are the only outsider having been granted the honor and privilege to witness what you see here, and to know of a certainty the Confederate States Army still exists.”  How I ask, do you get your training? All of our troops are required to sign up for at least one tour in either the U.S. Army or Marine Corps.

All of our officers as well as enlisted men are required to meet even higher qualifications then their counterparts in the U.S. Armed Forces.  All of our troops are required to have at lease a basic knowledge of Southern history, heritage and culture.  However we go one step further; we have sworn allegiance to the Confederate States Constitution, to obey the orders of the Confederate States President and the Confederate Officers appointed over us.  Realizing some portions of what we do here has little practical meaning at present.  Still in order to be fully prepared, we train as if there actually were a Confederate States Government in power, and a Confederate States Army Command."
.
We walked outside with the other officers, up and down the columns of troops for a quick inspection.  The Colonel continued, a sizeable number of these men, actually have combat experience, and two-dozen of them are qualified to operate the most recent Battle Tanks.  We have eight of our troops which are chopper pilots and while two of them work for commercial airlines."  As we inspected the last column I looked at Colonel Baker and wondered aloud, this can't be happening, it has got to be a dream.  The troops were now dismissed and were entering a building on the far side of the encampment, for classroom instructions. Colonel Baker looked back at me and smiled saying; "People assume everything is precisely as it appears to be, but such is not the case.

Things are seldom what they seem, so one should never believe at first glance!”  Then I ask of the Colonel; What about the local sheriff, and the federal government, don't they know you are here, and what you are doing?  "We have sentries, as well as the best high tech communications; should they cross the county line, or come within 50 miles by land or air, we will know immediately.  Upon arrival all they will see is nothing save a few men having a good time on a camp out; no uniforms, weapons, not even a shell casing. Our troops do not carry weapons while in transit, nor do they ever appear in public wearing these uniforms.

And only those things we wish found can actually be found.  We are not here as anyone’s enemy, nor do we show off our military prowess.  We are here for a purpose and a cause, when the time has come, and it will, the Southern People will discover, they have at the very least, the rudiments of a professional army.  Come, let me show you something!" We entered a classroom, which was presently being used for training, and stood quietly at the rear.  The instructor had just ordered the troops to dismantle their weapons.  As we entered, the pieces were scattered before each soldier. Then as we watched, the lights were turned out, and in not more the a couple minutes, the lights were back on.

Every weapon had been reassembled, and was operating correctly.  "The training you can clearly see is through the use of the finest up to date equipment in existence.  How we obtain that equipment is of course classified top secret, but I can assure you, everything we need is available to us, and in sufficient quintiles.  Since can not at this time hide a large piece of equipment such as a chopper or an aircraft, we have none here.  But we do have access, and that after all is what is important.”  As the evening came to a close, and we were saying our last goodbye’s back at Colonel Bakers home, I ask him; Why me?

Why have you shown me these things?  Colonel Baker replied; "Because you above all men, have the ability to keep your mouth shut, and because you have struggled so hard, and for so long.  You've given unselfishly of your time and resources, against overwhelming odds.  Yet have received little back in return, outside of negative replies, or silence in response to your call for assistance. It was agreed, you sir had to know, you are not alone!  And we have been aware since you passed through Chattanooga, that you were heading this way.”

My wife and I walked out to the car, and I knew she was eager for me to tell her what I had seen, that was so important.  But I could not explain it to her, and all I could say was how important it was that I had come here, more then that I said nothing.
 .
God save the Confederacy
.
.
 

.
. 
It is necessary at this point to explain, the story you have just read is fiction!  The existence of such a Confederate States Army Regiment in modern times is just that, a whopper.  Or is it really true after all?  How certain are you that it didn't happen, that perhaps a ruminant of the Confederate Army somehow slipped through a rip in time, a worm hole or a doorway, into our time and reconstituted themselves.
.