James R. Allen
Reckless Abandon begins in the early past of the American Civil War. It's the story of Cullen Friday, a young man in his teens. Being raised by a druken father that works and beats them mercilessly, Cullen's older brother Billy decides to join the Confederate Army. Under the misconception that the war will only last another month or two, Cullen is easily convinced to join with Billy.
Along with a couple of friends the boys go off to war convinced that they will soon return home as hero's, impressing their girlfriend, and changing their lives completely.
Cullen, Billy, and their friends find themselves in Tennessee, amazed by the shear numbers of men, animals, and equipment amassed in one location.
Soon they would find that war carried none of the greatness, and glory, they had expected. They would experince hardship, suffering, misery, and tragedy.
The death and destruction he would face, would soon mold Cullen into a dangerous fighting man. Promotions, and responsibility, would come past as Cullen gained the respect and admiration of his comrades, and superiors, and the respect and fear of his enemies.
As terrible as the war was, Cullen would reap some good from it. He would meet and marry the girl of his dreams.
After the war Cullen would return home to find there was nothing left for him there. He ventured west, where he would find that his years of war had helped to prepare him for the trials he was to face.
Cullen would find himself pitted against those who practiced murder, robbery, and kidnapping, not to mention the indian fights, land wars, and political struggles, he would endure.
I was born in Camden, Ark. in 1958. On one side the grandson of a railroad conducter and on the other,the grandson of a farmer and son of a timber man and truck driver. I grew up hunting, riding horses, fishing, and listening to stories passed down through the family about the old days. My favorites were of the old west and the civil war. As early as elementary school I read everything I could find on these subjects. Through the years I have collected saddles and weapons from those time periods. After I finished school I served in the millitary, worked many years in the timber business, worked as a carpenter, and a horse trader. I am a family man with a wife and four daughters, and three grandchildren. Luckily I was able to raise them on a small farm. I'm proud to say my daughters would rather be tending to the horses than in a shopping mall shopping for shoes. Through the years I've enjoyed many hobbies. Deer hunting, bass fishing, dirt track racing, riding horses, shooting my old pistols, wood working, and oil painting, which I'm not very good at. My writing started out as a hobby that I enjoyed very much, but hope to make a full time venture. Hopefully there will be several more books out very soon. When I write about sleeping on the ground, or hours in the saddle, branding a calf, or gelding a horse, I've done it. When I write about hog killing time, or raising a crop, or skinning and butchering meat, I've done that too. Knowing this, I hope, will make my books more enjoyable to my readers.
A cannon ball went off in front of me, sending a man flying over my head, showering me with blood. When this happened my anger turned to rage. I started running at them fast as I could, yelling at the top of my lungs. I saw the Yankees coming over their fence to meet our attack. Several of our men in front of me stopped and fired. As they did I ran past them, then I stopped took aim and fired. I saw the one I aimed at fall. As I reloaded several men ran past me but they didn't stop. They leveled their bayonets and hit the Yankees at a dead run. I followed their example. I lined up on one that was looking off to his left. He never saw me coming. I drove my bayonet in at a dead run. He went down and I tripped over him going down head first flipping over on my back. I don't know how but I managed to hang on to my rifle. I looked up and saw a Yankee officer on a white horse jump the fence at a dead run. He slid to a stop right beside me. He had a sword in his left hand and a pistol in his right. Just as I stood up I saw him level the pistol at the Sergeant. Before he could pull the trigger I came up hard with my bayonet. It entered about his kidney area traveling upward inside his rib cage. As he arched his back and screamed I saw blood gush from his mouth. As he fell he dropped his pistol. I picked it up and fired it into the oncoming Yankees until it ran dry. With each shot, I saw a Yankee fall.
