The Legend of Fiddler's Green

Imagine, if you will, a starry night in southwestern Oklahoma just after the Civil War.  Nestled in the shadows of the Wichita Mountains is a battery of smoothbore cannon camped for the night. As the campfires dim and the flasks of rum and lemon empty, the conversation turns to life in the hereafter.  A rugged, old chief of section is surprised to learn that all present have not heard of the special destiny of Redlegs.  As the young Canoneers listen intently, he shares with them the legend of Fiddler's Green.

The chief of section explains that the souls of departed eventually end up in heaven or hell.  Heaven lies about six miles down the dusty road to eternity, and Redlegs get there by turning left at the first crossroad.  From this same junction, hell is about eight or nine miles straight ahead.  The road's easy to identify: it's the one paved with good intentions.  A little way down the road to hell, there is a sign pointing to a trail that runs off to the right of the main road.  It reads "Fiddler's Green-- Artillerymen Only." 

Then he teaches them the following poem:                                                          

Halfway down the trail to hell,

In a shady meadow green,

Are the souls of many departed Redlegs

Camped near a good old-time canteen.

And this eternal resting place

Is known as Fiddler’s Green. 

Though others must go down the trail

To seek a warmer scene,

Ere he’s emptied his canteen.

And so returns to drink again,

  With his friends at Fiddler’s Green.  

The campfires die out, and the Red legs doze off to sleep, knowing Fiddler's Green awaits them and all their cannon-cocking brethren in the life hereafter.