Rock and a Hard Place: Juneteenth Betweenth
An unkown white WWI soldier was in Bell County, Texas, when an African American man joined him.
A second white man, in rags, waved. His head bandaged, he wore a moth-eaten blue coat with white trimmings indicating his artillery regiment.
"Where you from?" the African American man asked the ragged man.
"1776. General Washington's artillery."
"What's your name?" asked his white companion, his own uniform soiled and threadbare.
"Just some unknown," the Revolutionary War artilleryman said. "Forgotten. You?" he asked the WWI soldier.
"Me, too,"
"Don't know my name, neither," confessed the black man. Seems I was long forgotten before gettin' hanged with six brethren by Klansmen, after bein' liberated in '65.
Emancipation didn't sit right with folks. June 19th made it official, but unofficial lynchings happened anyway. USA's a hard place, crammin' all different types together. Not talking 'bout black and white, but righteous and nefarious."
"But the grand experiment!" shouted the artilleryman. "All men--created equal."
"By when?" asked the black man. "Not everybody's in that all."
"When we surrounded the British army at Yorktown--1781--an' they surrendered."
"Really?" the black man said. "Hard for me to celebrate. Or even see anythin' special in Juneteenth, turns out."
"Gentlemen," the WWI man interrupted. "There's a bigger picture. In 1914 the whole world was threatened. This country, this "hard place" you say, joined in. It was one world against another, an' together we taught Germany a lesson."
"Haven't bothered us since," added the black man.
"True," he agreed. "But--in deference to you, sir," he said to him, "while free men are not always free, the general direction's rock solid. It's our rock. Even in a hard place like this. As a memorialized man, I refer you to Memorial Day."
"And Independence Day," the Revolutionary artilleryman said. "And Juneteenth betweenth them. And that's where we walk right now--between a rock and a hard place.
"I'm not forgotten," said the Unknown Soldier. I have a tomb--put there in 1931."
"I guess that's somethin'," admitted the black man.
"You've got two holidays," complained the artilleryman to the black man.
"Holidays come and go." said the WWI soldier. "The calendar should be filled with the likes of us."
Hardly enough, they each thought.
Independence, Finally
Around midnight, September 20, 1777, 1200 British soldiers tore down fences and launched a surprise bayonet attack on sleeping American revolutionary troops encamped near Malvern, Pennsylvania. As the Battle of Paoli, it was one of the bloodiest of the Revolutionary War.
Hardly a battle, however; it was a massacre.
Over 200 American soldiers were wounded in the "Paoli Massacre" as wave after wave--the serial walls of bayonets--poured into the camp, hollering in their most terrifying wartime rallying cries, the "the Noise and Yells of Hell."
"Huzza!"
Each “Huzza!” sounded like incoming Valkyries, flying gods of vengeance evoking waves of panic over the men who were catatonic in surprise, shock, and awe.
The 53 Americans, all killed by bayonet, and the seven British soldiers killed, all arrived together in THE PLACE WHERE ALL QUESTIONS ARE ANSWERED.
"Who wins the war?" an American asked.
"You do," answered the Proctor.
"America becomes independent?" asked a British soldier.
"Yes," answered the Proctor.
"What happens then?" asked another Brit.
"America and Britain will become the strongest of allies, with a deep friendship remarkable--of any two nations on Earth."
The American and the British soldiers looked at each other.
"Friends with them?" an American said sarcastically.
"Hey, Yank," a British soldier interjected, "I'm quite the dead man myself."
"Yea, but you started it. Surprise attack."
"Who started it? You did! July 4, a year ago. Your Declaration of Independence. Remember?"
"We had to," explained the American. "We wanted a country where no man was above the law."
"Even a king? My man, it's our King! I get what you say, but certainly, Royal Immunity for official acts must prevail in a monarchy."
"Above the law? No one!" insisted the American. "Not even the President of our great, free country!"
"Well," stammered the Proctor, "one day your Supreme Court will rule your President is. Called "Presidential Immunity."
"Excuse me," another American asked the Proctor, "what are 'official acts'? Oh, and we're great friends with the Brits now?"
"Yes, for the second part of your question. For the first part, it depends."
"What about the King?" he further prodded.
"No, the King won't be above the law for anything."
The troops all walked into the next section of the continuum, WHERE ALL CONFUSION IS RESOLVED, including "official acts." This section was for feats bigger than those of any living men.