James lay in the wheat field. All alone amongst the yellow stalks, heavy and ripe for the harvest, he wished this moment would never end. Just on out of his sight, raged a fierce battle. To the east Gettysburg was in flames. The North was killing his compatriots and they all forgot what this was all about. Somewhere in the past, there was a reason to go to war. Now that only a few of them were left, this war felt pointless. James stared at the blue sky and the little sheep clouds slowly meandering across the azure expanse. The roaring battle sounds grew dim and dimmer to him. He watched himself in the wheat, eyes wide open, unmoving. He flew higher, higher yet, at peace. Finally, at peace.