From: mcmurtrey@iscsvax.uni.edu
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: The Unknown Soldier
Date: 10 Nov 92 18:10:00 -0600
Organization: University of Northern Iowa

        Greetings, the following story I must admit is only "sort of" a ghost
story, but I hope you like it anyway.  I had to sort amongst the various
versions I had heard before preducing this one.



                         The Unknown Soldier


        This story takes place back during the days of the Civil War.  Back
then Missouri was one of the states that had supporters of both sides mixed
throughout the state.  As such, there were many large and small units of Union
and Confederate soldiers moving about in the wilderness that existed in
Missouri at that time.

        It was late in the war during the sweltering summer months.  A drought
had hit the area. Springs and creeks were running dry and made drinkable water
moderately hard to obtain.

        To the north of what was to become Dora was a unit of about fifty or so
Confederate soldiers in full retreat.  They had ran afoul of a larger Union
force around the Rolla Missouri area.  They were overrun and soundly thrashed
by the Union forces.  The soldiers that reached the area north of Dora were all
that had survived the attack.

        Badly injured and ill-supplied they were hounded south for days.  Many
dead did they leave along the way.  Finally, they evaded their pursuers.

        They desperately needed water, and a place to rest.  Their flight had
afforded them no time to even bury the dead much less time to forage for food
and drinkable water.

        Meanwhile, to the Southwest of Dora was a small unit of Union soldiers
who had made a raid into Arkansas to try and cut lines of communication among
the confederate forces who held that section of the state.

        After the raid, the Union force made an attempt to reach the relative
safety of northern Missouri when they were cut off by a force of Confederate
artillery units that were headed for Springfield Missouri to either reinforce
the held the city or to help take the city from the union forces (it differs
between tellers).

        Facing few choices, the Union unit attempted to sneak through the
Confederate lines during the night.  Unforturnately, the confederates notice
the Union group.  During the fighting that followed only a portion of the group
survived to reach the southwest section of Dora.

        At this point they were much like the confederate unit to the north. 
Beaten, battered, bloody, only the clothes on their backs and a few weapons and
little ammunition.  Throats dry and dusty from battle and flight they needed
water and time to tend the wounded.  The hale of body were few within the unit
for all had suffered.  

        At a point between the two units was a small valley that offered
protection and a small spring fed pond.  Scouts from both parties discovered
this find and immediately reported back to the units.  It was like an answer
from God to the men of the units.  The timing of what happened next was
uncanny.

        Basically both units reached the valley and the pond at pretty much the
same time.  In the confusion that followed, both units managed to reach
opposing sides of the valley.  In truth, the units were no more than a few
thousand yards apart and could clearly see each other and the pond full of
water laying between them.

        Next to the pond in full fiew of the troops was one lone soldier,
little more than a child, laying in the rocks.  He had been injured in the
earlier battles and then further injured during the few shots that had been
exhanged.  

        But whose soldier was he?  Covered with dirt, blood, and wearing little
more than threads neither force could identify him as union or confederate. 
For this reason, neither unit was willing to leave the stricken soldier or shot
him as an enemy.

        As the day wore on the young soldier would occasionally cry out in pain
and fever. "Don't leave me....  Don't .... Don't leave me...." After all both
units had been through, this was almost more than the men could take.  His pain
and the unreachable water tortured them almost as much as the young soldier.

        Late in the afternoon, the soft cries lessened and died as the young
man died.  Still both units sat the ridges.  Neither party would allow anyone
to bury the young man.

        As dark approached, some local women removed their bonnets and allowed
their hair to hang free so that the men of the units would be able to clearly
tell that they were women.  They then proceeded to walk into the valley between
the units.  They took the body of the young man and a clearing next to the pond
they laid him to rest in a shallow grave.

        When the morning sun rose, there at the site of the grave was an
unusual sight.  At the foot of the grave was a stone about 1 foot long on each
side and about 3-4 inches thick.  At the foot was another stone of
approximately the same size.  On top of these stones was a third that covered
the entire grave.  This stone was roughly rectangular and about 5-6 inches
thick.  The weight could have been easily a ton.

        Both units were gone.  They had vanished during the night.  Descendants
of the women say that in no way could the women have placed the stones on the
grave.  They had been brought from the rocky spot where the soldier had lain,
more than a hundred feet away.  

        Did the armies reach an agreement during the night to raise this as a
tribute to the fallen?  The locals don't know.

        However, on sultry, dry, afternoons, many farmers close to the pond
swar that as the breeze whispers through the trees you can hear the faint sound
of a child (?) softly crying  "Don't..... Don't leave me..... Don't......"  The
cry brings not fear to the listeners but only a sense of sadness and
meloncholy..........



                       --------------------------------


        In the town of Dora, there is a cemetery called the Sweeton Pond
Cemetery.  Next to it and now hidden by trees is the spring fed pond.  In the
older section of the cemetery close to the pond you will find the grave just as
I've described it. 

        Every year someone places flowers and a flag on this the oldest and
dearest grave in the small community.  Who was he where did he come from?
No one knows........



                                                Diana Kay McMurtrey
                                                University of Northern Iowa