26 NEBRASKAland • NOVEMBER 2017
Through the gate a dark lawn opened, under a
twinkling, inky sky. And under a full moon a retired
fl agpole stood until reveille; it cared not who passed it
by.
Our ghostly visitors from the future could not speak
with the living, but were permitted to ask questions
through their guide. Mostly domestic murmurs fi lled
the barracks, but there was also intrigue on the rise.
From room to room, as they watched and listened, a
plot unfolded before their eyes. Wives and widows
gossiped over weaving, as their soldiers puffed on
pipes by brick fi resides.
