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с чего началось полицейское государство в Америке с победы Севера в ГВ, не позже: “Every man should endeavor to understand the meaning of subjugation before it is too late… It means the history of this heroic struggle will be written by the enemy; that our youth will be trained by Northern schoolteachers; will learn from Northern school books their version of the war; will be impressed by the influences of history and education to regard our gallant dead as traitors, and our maimed veterans as fit objects for derision… It is said slavery is all we are fighting for, and if we give it up we give up all. Even if this were true, which we deny, slavery is not all our enemies are fighting for. It is merely the pretense to establish sectional superiority and a more centralized form of government, and to deprive us of our rights and liberties.” "Каждый человек должен постараться понять природу принуждения, пока не поздно... история этой героической борьбы будет написана врагом; наших детей будут учить Северные учителя; их будут учить своей версии войны, по Северным учебникам; их история и образование буду внушать им, что наши славные погибшие были предателями, а искалеченные ветераны заслуживают издевательств... они говорят, что рабство - это то, из-за чего мы сражаемся, и что, отказавшись от рабства, мы все потеряем. Даже если бы это было правдой - что мы отрицаем - рабство это не то, против чего воюют наши враги. Это просто предлог для установления своего главенства, более централизованной формы правления, и для лишения нас наших прав и свобод." Генерал-майор Патрик Клебурн (родом из Ирландии, кстати), Конфедеративные Штаты Америки, январь 1864 вот вам еще песенка от browncoats: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7iGqSm 'Twas midnight when we built our fires— We march'd at half-past three We know not when our march shall end, Nor care—we follow Lee The starlight gleams on many a crest, And many a well-tried blade — This handful marching- on the left— This line is our Brigade Our line is short because it's veins So lavishly have bled ; The missing! Search the countless plains Whose battles it has led; There are those Georgians on our right, Their ranks are thinning, too — How in one company, they say, They now can count but two There's not much talking down the lines, Nor shouting down the gloam; For when the night is 'round us, then We're thinking most of home I saw yon soldier startle, when We passed an open glade, Where the low starlight, leaf and bough A fairy picture made; Nor has he uttered word since then — My heart can whisper why — 'Twas like the spot in Texas where He bade his love good-bye And when, beyond us, carelessly, Some soldier sang adieu My comrade here across his eyes His coarse sleeve roughly drew; So, scarcely sound, save trampling feet, Is echoed through the gloom— Because when stars are brightest, then We're thinking most of home Hush! what an echo startles up Around this rocky hill Was 't shell, half-buried, struck my foot? Or, stay—'tis a human skull! This ridge I surely seem to know By light of yon rising moon; Ha! we battled here three mortal hours One Sunday afternoon. Last spring! See where our Captain stands, His head drooped on his breast — At his feet that heap of bones and earth — You know now why his rest Is broke off, and why his sword was So bitter in the fray! 'Tis the grave of his only brother, who Was killed that awful day Hush! for in front ■ I heard a shot, And then a well-known cry — "It is the foe!" See where the flames Mount upward to the sky ! It is the foe! Halt! Rest we here! We wait the coming sun, And ere these stars may shine again A field is lost or won ! Is won ! It is the "Old Brigade," This line of stalwart men The "long roll!" how it thrills my heart To hear that sound again! God shield us, boys! here breaks the day, The stars begin to fade "Now steady here! fall in! fall in! Forward! the 'Old Brigade'! |
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