I sit in this bed wracked with the consequences of a round to the leg. While it is a flesh wound, it still has the pain of a thousand wasp stings. Remember when we ran out of our home because of a yellowjacket nest? I now miss them as I miss you. How is Delaware? We’re fighting again for liberty and the ever expanding world on the stage. We need to go to the theater again. You’ve always liked the players with the most pomp and showiness. My leg is ablaze right now but the nurses attend to me with great care. Negro nurses, they remain. We can fight in the same war and sustain the same injuries, but they still have trouble with us being tended to by any white medical staff.
I don’t know what pains me more. Is it the racism or the searing agony of this latest wound? I may be a lowly captain, but I a black one, nevertheless. Before I received this trauma to my lower appendage, General Andrew Jackson himself said I’d be promoted to major and then colonel. I shall see. It is difficult to even fathom such an honor. The compassion that you have for me is so extraordinary that even if I fail to advance in my assignment as a leader of Negroes, I still know you have all your love reserved for me.
With the power of our union with one another, we can always find ways to accelerate the moments of anguish and savor the times of passion and pleasure. As my wife, you have shown yourself to be a profound supporter of my efforts to save this collection of states in this Second War of Independence. It is your honor to know that I am with you, even if we’re thousands of miles apart. It is a joy to know that you’re in the world. What greatness I feel, despite my physical ailment! I recognize that you are a complete person, but it is I who makes that happen. You are fascinated by my brilliance and my abilities. I take in your sweetness, kindness, and at times, stubbornness! That’s what makes you your own person. I’ve selected a woman of proper moral standing and a staunch advocate to the Negro cause.
While you may be a white woman, it is only because our state does not permit miscegenation, it was only right that we became a wedded couple in the state of Pennsylvania. Of course, we go about the city of Wilmington as if we never jumped the broom.
That’s what we’re fighting for in this world. Nevermind the conflict that is right now booming outside this tent. I hear the dust settle from various explosions directly outside of here. We’re fighting for us. As selfish as that sounds, self-interest is the only moral standard that occupies my mind. I could be fighting for the colonies. I could be battling my way across Louisiana and lie that I’m fighting on behalf of a country that still doesn’t care about me because of my skin color. Instead, I will note that I’m fighting for my own ego and to foster and strengthen it. You are a part of me so it’s your ego, too. I know you’re taking care of my babies. Two of them, I should remark, are actually ready to be young men. While I’m away, make the commitment to keep them strong and focused along the way.
One of the nurses just gave me a salve for my wound. It felt like fire had been applied to the region, but now I’m okay. I don’t think they grant medals for being wounded. In fact, I know this to be true. I’m not looking to be congratulated for something I never wanted. I also know that they wouldn’t congratulate but honor someone with a battle scar like mine. There is tremendous commotion a few hundred yards away. Great bursts of light like diamonds reflecting in the sky now return to black. It gets quiet. I thank the nurse for her care and keep on with this missive.
You are only someone who worships at my feet because I have attained the status of a true man. It is because of your willingness to see what most women hide away from in their lives. They see a strong man of color and they run. Not because of my skin color but because I dare to be daring. I hold the keys to the lifestyle which we must preserve. The defense of a fledgling nation is at hand and it is because I can express myself this way that I seek to find you in a state of mind consonant with understanding and pride.
Yes, proud men and women run this world, the meek and the modest only sup up whatever the proud leave in the cup of proper conduct.
I hold you up as a key figure in my life. I know you do the same. In fact, If you didn’t I wouldn’t be with you. Your correspondence with me propels me and lets me know that someone out there, who happens to be my bride, is on my side. It is a measure of a woman to bow to her husband. By the same token, that man must––Ooh! they’re dressing the wound––behave in the manner that he is worthy of such adoration.
In knowing that I have a place in life and a wife and children to share my greatness with, I know we have a chance at making this a worthwhile affair. I’ll be home soon and I want to see you. I want to smell your perfume and look you in the eye and tell you I love you. That’s all I’m hoping for right now. With this war seemingly winding down, I had to get hit. I’d rather it be me than one of my men. They’ve shown so much bravery and courage over these few months, it warrants that the black man should be free across the board, no?
At least I have you to speak to in these letters. I thank you and I know you thank me. The pain in my leg seems to have subsided for the moment. Again, this flesh wound will heal and I’ll be in good health and condition.
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