I march in line, synchronized with my classmates, peering at the interesting brick fortress ahead of me.










“CHIN UP SOLDIER!” yells the young adult who is dressed in Civil War battle gear.





















We walk along the soggy Bermuda grass until we reach the antebellum bunker.





















Inside is a sort of giant arena filled with different stations, each of them showing a certain war tactic.














We’re led up a weathered brick staircase to the top of the ominous fort, where another young man is waiting for us while holding a rifled musket.

The lighting of the fort is like that of a young child’s nightmare, being that it was nighttime.




















The blackened brick walls seemed to swallow in what little light came from the lamps placed periodically around the camp.








Even the small amount of moonlight is hazed by the thick layer of fog that surrounded us.



















Because of the strange architecture of the fort, several interior walls jutted out, creating a maze of flickering shadows.










Who knew that light could be so dark?

Startled by the sound of gunfire, I turn quickly to find it is the young man with the musket.



















He calls several people up to learn how to load and fire a musket; however, they are only using wooden training rifles.










He barks several instructions about how to go about loading the “musket.”



















He barely seems to care if everyone is caught up.






Behind me, I hear another station talking about flags, and then from somewhere across the fort a bugle sounds.










We transition to the next station.

In my head I think about the stains on the walls; are they real blood? Will a cannon be fired?
















How many people have died here?












Did any of the people working here have ancestors die in this war?
Who fired the first shot?





























I am intrigued by the mystifying building that surrounds me.


The strange look of the fort hooked me from the start.






I am mesmerized by the fact that I am standing where hundreds of past soldiers stood, that I am literally inside of a historic monument.


















I’m surprised by how realistic these soldiers make it seem.




I’m startled by the poor conditions the soldiers lived in long ago.
Dark
Confusing
Loud