From Mrs. Lou Brookshire, King's Creek, N.C., 1968, coll. by Bobby McMillon:


                Southern Soldiers

Come all you Southern soldiers
Wherever you may be
I'll tell you of some troubles
That's happened unto me.

My name is nothing extry
And it I will not tell
But to all of you poor soldiers
I know I wish you well.

When I was only sixteen
I joined a jolly band
We marched from Eastern Tennessee
To old Virginia land.

Our captain he informed us
Perhaps he thought it right
Before we reached Manassas
We'll surely have to fight.

I saw the muskets glittering
The bullets round me hail
My heart sank deep within me
My courage almost fail.

I saw the smoke arising
It seemed to reach the sky
I thought this dreadful moment
Now is my time to die.

I saw the Indians coming
I heard them give a yell
My feelings at that moment
No mortal tongue can tell.

No Indians at Manassas, but that's the oral tradition for you. Presumably somebody didn't know what "Manassas" meant. Mrs. Brookshire learned the song "as a child."