An Unbreakable Sacred Vow

By Robert L Plumley

The story is about a young man named Bobby Wayne Brooks who grew up in central Georgia. When his country was drawn into an unwanted war, he enlisted in the navy and served as a navy SEAL. During those few years, he served honorably and exemplified great courage. He received injuries on one mission that were severe enough to end his career in the SEAL program. He was offered a different assignment or a medical discharge. He took the discharge and returned to civilian life.

After those few years of fighting, he figured he had had enough excitement and dangerous activities to last a lifetime. But he soon found that his reasoning did not impact the things life had in store for him. As a civilian, he soon found himself involved with the spirit world, which was something he did not understand and really had no desire to learn. Being a Christian, he believed that when a person dies, their soul immediately goes to their eternal reward. But he had heard many stories about people having encounters with the spirits of people who had passed. He did not understand them. Neither did he question the reliability of the stories he heard. He just accepted them and moved on with his life.

As it turned out that unwanted encounter with the spirit world brought about an undesired involvement with the criminal world that could have cost him his life. But in the end, he counted the entire episode as very worthwhile since it brought about a beautiful romance that eventually led him to the love of his life, who became Mrs. Bobby Wayne Brooks. They both discovered that time was not a good measuring device when you find the one God intends for you to have.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Apr 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489716392

Robert L Plumley

The author is a retired Baptist Minister whose first love is preaching followed by a deep desire to write Christian based novels suitable for all ages. This book, (his second) begins with an episode with the Spirit world which brings about a dangerous encounter with criminals that has an exciting ending. That will be followed by a beautiful love story that is guided by the heart and not by sexual encounters. The readers will find this book to be suitable for all ages. Most of the characters in the book(Excluding the criminal element) are people most of us would like to have as neighbors. The author earned his B.A. Degree from William Carey College in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, and attended two Southern Baptist Seminaries, and two years at a well known Baptist Bible College in Florida.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Taking an Undesired Journey into an Unknown World

T hrough most of my life I’ve tried to identify, and logically define the reasons for being in the various situations I sometimes fall into. I’m usually pretty good at reaching a satisfactory understanding as to why I’m there, and what I’m supposed to do to make it better, or, at least how to get myself out. However, I recently found myself deeply involved in a dangerous, and very mysterious situation that I did not want, and I still find myself asking, Why Me? I certainly never sought, nor ever dreamed of having an encounter with the spirit world. And as it turned out that was the easy part. So far, my application of logic and reason has been a complete failure. So, let me try to put the pieces together and see if it makes any sense.

One of the most rewarding experiences of my life occurred over twenty years ago when my father introduced me to camping. That first episode gave birth to a love for nature that has enriched my life ever since. Even as a small lad I experienced a calm serenity when surrounded by the splendor of the outdoors. It’s as if I feel a kinship with nature when I’m privileged to enjoy the grandeur, and the beauty she so generously provides. Please don’t misunderstand me, I do not worship nature. I worship God and I have learned to enjoy, and to draw strength from one of His greatest gifts to mankind.

I was preparing to embark on what I hoped to be, the mother of all camping trips. Maybe I should qualify that statement by saying, at least as far as my limited experience is concerned. To say I was eager to get started would certainly be a misnomer. This one was very special. It was the culmination of two years of planning by my best friend, Chuck Naylor, and me. We’re both avid campers as well as civil war buffs. We saved part of our vacation from the previous year and arranged to spend an entire month doing what we both loved.

Our itinerary called for us to camp near three civil war battlefields in Georgia, and Tennessee. Our preparation included reading several books that detailed the battles fought there. We were eager to walk over those fields and try to capture in our own minds some of the things those gallant men saw so many years ago.

As a former Navy SEAL, I’m trained in the modern tools of war. But as I study the methods of warfare utilized by the armies of both the north and the south I’m completely intrigued by the courage of those men, especially the way they would line up, shoulder to shoulder on the battlefields, ready, if called upon to make the supreme sacrifice. I find myself wondering what Thoughts went through their minds as they looked across the battle fields and saw the opposing Armies aiming their weapons of destruction at their unprotected bodies. Even as their comrades Fell all around them, they simply closed ranks and continued to fire. Bravery was as common as a breath of air. I never tire of reading the stories of those gallant warriors’ of the civil war.

Everything was on schedule, or at least I thought it was. We were ready to make our final preparations when my friend informed me he had found the love of his life and they were getting married. Believe me I was happy for Chuck and his beautiful bride. And I was honored to serve as best man, but I was not about to allow a simple thing like a wedding spoil a well-planned vacation. So, as soon as I saw the two lovers off on their honeymoon, I loaded my gear and hit the road alone.

My first camp site was located a few miles above Resaca in north Georgia. My plans were to spend a couple of nights there, and then go up to Fort Oglethorpe and explore the battlefields there. But I soon discovered that even your most skillful planning can be bushwhacked in less than a heartbeat. As I was setting up camp I had no way of knowing that I was on the threshold of the biggest surprise of my life. That beautiful north Georgia evening not only provided the backdrop for the shock of my life, but also set in motion a series of events that would change my life forever. In the course of one month I would be subjected to a hair - raising experience with the spirit world, which, by the way does not rate very high on my list of favorite things to do. And that spine tingling episode was followed by a brutal, almost fatal, encounter with the criminal world. Which you won’t find on any must do list of mine.

I got off to a great start. I selected the perfect camp sight. It had everything you could ask for. Nice level ground with a beautiful view situated on a ridge about twenty yards above a small stream. It was a gorgeous evening, and the fall temperature was cool enough to make the warmth of the campfire feel like a snug blanket on a cold winter night. And the after-dinner coffee was some of the best I ever brewed. I was sitting in my chair, sipping coffee, and listening to the different sounds of the wilderness as the creatures of the night awakened from their sleep and made their presence known. I guess I sat there an hour or more listening to nature speak through its many voices.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the evening was broken when I felt a cold breeze blow up the ravine from the stream below. I got up and put more wood on the fire. Then I noticed a mist moving up from the same direction. I thought it was strange since there had been little temperature change, at least, I thought, not enough to create fog. But, I’m not a meteorologist and my theory on the creation of fog is probably wrong. So, I didn’t dwell on that subject very long. Suddenly, I heard a rumbling sound moving toward me from off in the distance. I listened very intently for a few moments. Finally, I recognized the sound of horses. I stood there as the sound drew nearer. I wanted the area to be as bright as possible, so I put more wood on the fire, and hung a lantern from a tree limb. In a moment I saw the faint image of horses and riders moving up the path in my direction. I stood there in silence. When they drew near enough for me to see I was flabbergasted. They were in uniforms, Confederate Calvary uniforms. I counted twelve riders. Their leader was a captain. He was impressive simply by the way he carried himself in the saddle. He rode straight, and upright. Exactly what you would expect from a well- trained military leader. He looked at me as he rode by. He nodded his head, and touched the tip of his hat as a gesture of greeting. I froze in my tracks, unable to move, or say a word, but I finally managed to nod my head in return. Each man turned in my direction as they passed. I’m quite sure if I live a thousand years I will never forget the look on their faces. The men and even their horses looked completely exhausted. Their skin was pale, almost to the point of being white, and their eyes seemed hollow, and depressed. Their faces bore no expression except a cold stair that seemed to be reaching out as if they were pleading for help. Not a word was spoken as they rode by. Soon they were out of sight.

I don’t know how long I stood there. I guess I was in a state of shock. I was utterly bewildered by the turn of events. I didn’t know how to deal with what I saw, or, what I thought I saw. As I said earlier I’m a former Navy SEAL, and as such I’m trained to fight my way out of most situations, but my training didn’t cover anything like this. Many different questions were running through my mind. … Was it a dream? … . Did I fall asleep and allow my imagination to run wild? … .Did the shadows of night play tricks on my eyes? … . Or, was it a group of local riders out for a late ride? … .What did I see?

In a few moments I began to reason with myself. You’re a fairly intelligent man I said; surely you can figure this out. Well, the first thing that came to mind was this dandy deduction, if they were real riders there should be evidence on the trail. You have to admit that was pretty sound reasoning coming from a very confused mind. So, I walked over to where they had passed. I really don’t know what I expected to see, but I must admit I was surprised at what I found. And what I found was absolutely nothing. I found no evidence at all that twelve horses had just passed by. Well, I thought, that narrows it down to two distinct possibilities, you are either dreaming, or losing your cotton picking mind. And right then I wouldn’t bet a dime either way. I knew I couldn’t sleep after that unwelcome intrusion into my dream vacation. So I sat up for a while drinking coffee and mulling over the strange events of the evening. Finally, after an hour or more I decided I couldn’t do anything about it and I went to bed.

I was up early the next morning. I was determined that nothing was going to spoil this trip. Not even a group of ghost riders, or, whatever they were. I must confess I had a difficult time keeping my mind on camping. I knew I had to stay busy, and preparing breakfast was just the thing to keep my mind occupied for a while. To me, there’s something unique about cooking outdoors over an open fire. I know that bacon is bacon, no matter where you happen to be, but the smell of bacon cooking over a campfire seems to awaken your taste buds like nothing else. That wonderful smell, coupled with the aroma of brewing coffee is truly a touch of heaven. I sometimes wonder which I enjoy most, the outdoor life, or the food that goes with it.

I finished breakfast and was trying to make my plans for the day. But I couldn’t concentrate, my mind kept drifting back to the events of the night before. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t ignore it. I kept seeing the tired, weary faces of those riders. It was too real to be a dream. I admit that in the past my wild imagination has conjured up some really wacky things, but nothing of this magnitude. I wrestled with the question, was I dreaming? Or was it real? It soon became clear that I needed to know a lot more before I could answer, and that conjecture presented a major problem. How could I obtain more information about something that may not exist? For the first time I was glad I was alone on this trip. I didn’t want anyone asking me to explain what was going on. That would be like asking a rock to teach you how to swim. It couldn’t be done. I realized the only thing I was doing was digging up more questions, and I already had enough of those. What I needed was answers, and much to my surprise, as I thought on that subject, a possible solution came to mind. As crazy as it may seem, I thought, maybe, just maybe, if I stay another night my visitors might return. If so, that would help solve my dilemma. In order to get answers to my questions I needed those riders. If they returned, I could at least determine if they were real, a figment of my imagination, or, and I don’t like to think about it, were they ghosts from the past? I realize I could have partially solved my problem by packing up and moving on. I said partially because I know myself. If I had walked away I would be miserable. I would have come back later on and taken up the search for answers. I’m not saying my life is always orderly, but I don’t like leaving things undone. If I have a problem I like to take care of it as soon as I can. It’s always been my belief that if you have too many loose ends in your life you are bound to get tangled up and fall. So I knew that running away would only add another piece to my baffling puzzle, and I didn’t need that. I also knew that even if I stayed another night there was no guarantee that my mystery riders would return, but it was certainly worth a try.

With that settled I could now get back to what I came for in the first place. I spent the day exploring the surrounding country. I love to go deep into the wilderness where the only sounds you hear are the sounds of nature. With the rapid encroachment of man, it’s getting harder to find secluded places like that. I just hope we are wise enough to preserve a good portion of our wilderness for future generations to enjoy.

I was back in camp by five o’clock. I stayed busy for a while making sure the area was clean. That was one of the first rules my dad taught me about camping. I can still hear him saying, Son, make sure your camp is as clean when you leave, as it was when you arrived. After cleaning the area to a level that I knew would please my dad, I gathered a good supply of wood for the evening. When I finished those chores, I prepared a meal fit for a king. That is of course if the king enjoys canned beef stew as much as me.

After eating, I began making notes in a journal I keep with me on all my camping trips. I enter dates, locations, and points of interest I want to remember. I had to mention the encounter with the horsemen the night before. And, just to be on the safe side, I jotted down the possibility that I could have been dreaming. I didn’t want anyone who might read this later to think I had stumbled onto a whiskey still in those north Georgia Mountains and sampled some of the liquid spirits.

This may sound strange, but later that evening, I wasn’t at all surprised when I felt the cool breeze, and saw the mist moving up the raven from the stream below. I knew that very soon the men and horses would approach from the same direction. I wasn’t surprised because I knew it was going to happen. I felt as if it was something I had no control over. You can call it destiny, fate, or some other clever name, but at that time I knew I was where I was supposed to be. I won’t lie and say I understood everything that was happening. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if my water supply had mysteriously been changed into a high grade of Moon-Shine liquor. I’m a dedicated Christian and I am not a drinking man but I’m sure my story sounds about as strange as an alcoholic telling about his herd of pink elephants.

Soon, the riders and horses appeared in the distance. I moved closer to where they would pass. As soon as they were close enough I called out, Good evening captain.

Good evening to you sir, he replied, as he raised his hand to bring his troops to a halt.

May I extend to you, and your men, the hospitality of my campfire? I asked.

You are very kind sir, and we accept your invitation. He turned to his troops, Sergeant Spencer, have the men dismounted for a short rest.

Yes sir, captain, he replied.

The captain walked beside me to the fire. Please sit down, I said, pointing to a chair. A chair, he said, now that will be a real treat.

He turned his chair so he would be facing me and sat down. He looked straight at me, and when I looked into his eyes I felt like I was caught in a bear trap. I knew I couldn’t turn away, even if I wanted to. I didn’t know what to say to the man. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I decided to test the merits of the old adage that says, Honesty is always the best policy.

Captain, I said, I don’t understand what’s happening. This entire episode has taken my mind far beyond its range of comprehension.

I’m sure it has, he said, I would be quiet surprised if you felt any different.

Can you shed some light on this? I ask. At least enough to convince me that I’m not going crazy?

Believe me, you are not going crazy, he said with a broad smile on his face, and I’ll try to be as enlightening as possible.

He took his eyes off me for a moment and gazed at the fire. I knew he was gathering his thoughts, trying to decide what would be the best approach in order to give me some degree of understanding.

Well’, he said, I believe introductions should be the first order of business, and with your permission sir, I’ll begin, my name is Captain Henry Watts. I serve in the ninth Virginia Calvary. My commander is Colonel William Stone."

My name is Bob Brooks, I said, I make my living in refrigeration design and sales, and my home is just north of Atlanta.

It’s indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Brooks, he said as he extended his hand. I regret that time will not permit me to introduce you to each of my men, but believe me, they are some of the best Virginia has to offer.

I hesitated for a moment, and then I said, Captain Watts, please tell me what we are doing here.

We need help Mr. Brooks, and you may be the one who can provide it.

Captain, I said, I’m not trying to be a smart mouth, but I hope you’re aware of something, sir, the wars over, and it’s been over for a long time. How in the world can I help the Confederate Calvary?

As soon as I spoke those words, I knew I had made a mistake. I saw a look of anger replace the smile on the captain’s face.

Mr. Brooks, he said, we know better than anyone that the War Between the States is over. But the war for this troop is not over, and it will not end until someone finds a way to help us. I’m sorry to have bothered you Mr. Brooks, he said as he stood up, I thought there was a chance you might be the one.

Wait a minute Captain, I said, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t willing to listen to your story.

I’m sorry, he said, as he sat back down, that was rude of me Mr. Brooks, but we’ve been disappointed so many times. This is not the first stop we’ve made over the years.

I understand sir, and no apology is necessary. Now, I’m willing to listen, but I make no promise beyond that.

Fair enough, he said, we could not expect more. I noticed that the smile came back to his face.

CHAPTER TWO

Beginning to wonder Why Me Lord?"

C aptain Watts began to tell his story. Our Calvary troop was engaged in heavy fighting south of Chattanooga. We were covering the retreat of a large group of our infantry that had been cut off from the main force. We were successful in getting them out but in doing so our colonel was seriously wounded.

He paused for a moment; I could see he was troubled by the fact that the colonel was wounded. He continued with his story saying the colonel was much more than his commanding officer. They grew up together in Virginia, and he considered him his oldest and dearest friend. He said after the battle he moved his troops to a camp near the confederate field hospital. Then he went to check on the colonel. When he arrived, a doctor informed him there was no chance his friend would survive.

I went to his side and tried to offer as much encouragement as I could. But he was more concerned about his troops than himself. I told him we came out of the battle in very good condition. We had three wounded, the colonel, and two enlisted men. I assured him the troops were camping in a safe area at the time.

"As we continued to talk, Colonel Stone’s expression became very