Lesson 11: Wounded Spirits
By: Chaplain David Chaltas
March 20, 2005

Several times throughout the year I find myself reflecting on the reenactment of Saltville, Virginia. I can still see the events unfolding it in my minds eye as if it were yesterday. I arrived on Saturday due to a schedule conflict and had missed Saturday's battle. Upon my arrival I began looking for a location in which to place my tent. It had rained all day and the ground was saturated, creating a mystical view of the battlefield. The 39th Georgia boys greeted me and invited me to set up my tent within their perimeter. I accepted and before I knew it, my tent was pitched and ready to go. I immediately went to pay my respects to my mentor Al Stone who was portraying General Lee and as always was greeted with his brotherly acceptance. I explained that this weekend I was the good Chaplain Lee and was there to simply enjoy my fellowship with so many fine men and women. His comments are always those of wisdom and he once again stated that there could never be too many Lees on the battlefield. As I returned from his camp several men came up to me and started expressing the eerie feeling they had encountered upon the battlefield that day. They stated that they had heard bullets ricocheting off the cliffs and cannons bellowing where there no cannons positioned. That is not during this reenactment. One man came to me telling me of the mist that flowed across the field from the constant rain and that everything was covered in a gray haze. He stated as he walked past a cannon battery, he stumbled over a soldier lying there on the ground that seemed so cold. When he looked back to see if he was injured, the man was not there. When he went back for a closer look, the man was gone.

Several people came to me talking of the wounded spirits that seemed to be walking the field on that day and they lingered through the night. The next morning, I attended the church service and offered the opening prayer for Pastor James. The service was electrifying as the spirit came upon us. Preparing for the battle, we all knew that this day would be as unique as yesterday. My ancestors had fought upon this very battlefield and their presence seemed so close. I was given the honor of blessing the troops by praying and I offered a sermon that came from deep inside of me. After I finished, I noted several men with tears in their eyes and something transforming to the warriors of yesteryear. As I walked forward with them, I could not help but note the intensity of those men marching to battle.

The battle commenced with the cannonade as it echoed through the hills and valleys so many years ago. The men pushed and were pushed back as in the actual conflict. Suddenly some of the boys began falling and I remember one young man in particular that was wounded. Forgetting myself I ran out to him and assisted him back to the lines. One after another fell and I went around checking to see if any needed water, prayers or medical attention. I remember looking up and seeing a young boy fall and as I began to raise myself from a kneeling position I noted that those people were upon me. I turned and saw a weathered Blackman in very dirty jaded clothing raise his 3-band rifle (as if in slow motion) and point it in my direction. I remember being pushed backwards and hitting the ground. I remember looking into the heavens and thought what a lovely day to die upon this sacred soil. I was within 100 yards of the audience so I thought I would 'perform' and began yelling, "Kentucky Shall Be Free"! I heard someone speak to me saying, "Sir, Kentucky is free and so are you." And as I looked up I saw what appeared to be the men that we had been fighting hovering above me. Several of 'those men' started yelling, "We have shot a parson" and I remember looking up and seeing the Blackman who had shot me, stepping out of the mist, with tears in his eyes saying over and over, "I would never have killed you parson, I thought you was an officer." Well, I asked him to forgive me as I had already forgiven him and then played the dying scene as well as any as they gently carried my body out of harms way and waited until the sound of taps before being resurrected. After our salute to the audience, to our fighting men overseas, to each other and to America I went amongst the men and began shaking hands with 'those people' that attempted to save me. I asked them if I could meet the man that had killed me and described him to them. They looked at me with such amazement for a few seconds and then the officer said, "Chaplain we have no one on this field that fits that description." It was then that it hit me like a blow to the chest the significance of the occurrence when for a brief moment the old soldier met the new and forgiveness was found. I cried all the way back to my line.

You see, sometimes in life we need to have closure to an event that was so traumatic that we can't seem to let go. War, divorce, death; all have their price of resolution. I do believe in what the Bible says. I do believe in Angels, I do believe that that 'thing' (I will not mention its name, for it is unworthy of being spoken) walks the earth and I do believe that those that have gone before sometimes when taken without being fully forgiven, they walk upon the shadows. I believe in life after death and that the dead sometimes walk upon the wind when their spirit has been wounded. I believe that on that day I was a parson that helped another cross over the great turbid vale and by asking him to forgive me as I forgave him. Such is the love of Christ. Did He not raise the dead? Did he not tell a thief you should be with me this day in heaven? Did he not cast out evil spirits? My Bible says so and that is good enough for me to accept things I cannot explain it away but simply must accept in faith. To me this was real and you can chose to be skeptical and even laugh. But this I know, my heart felt so relieved after that once in a life time encounter that I praise a Holy God for affording me such opportunities to experience life to such full measures. I remain your obedient servant in Christ. Kentucky Division

Chaplain Chaltas and the Old General