Nov 20 , 2025
Robert J. Patterson stood firm beneath a rain of lead and smoke, the roar of artillery drowning comrades’ cries. His regiment faltered—shattered, pinned. But there he was, raising a battered flag, ...
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Nov 20 , 2025
Robert J. Patterson’s boots sank deep in the mud at Petersburg’s front line. Smoke choked the air like a funeral shroud. His regiment was pinned down, headers cracking, men falling like wheat under...
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Nov 20 , 2025
He was the shadow between death and salvation—standing alone under a hailstorm of bullets to plug the bleeding line. When a regiment falters, one man’s grit becomes the fulcrum for survival. Robert...
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Nov 20 , 2025
Robert J. Patterson’s name is carved in the blood-soaked ledger of the Civil War — a soldier who stared death in the face and chose to carry his brothers through Hell. When rifles spat fire and can...
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Nov 20 , 2025
Robert J. Patterson stood shoulder-deep in mud. The air was thick with smoke and screams. His regiment teetered on the edge of collapse. With bullets spitting death all around, one man’s courage cr...
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Nov 20 , 2025
Robert J. Patterson stood alone amid the raging inferno, bullets slicing the smoke-choked air like death’s own scythe. His regiment faltered under crushing Confederate fire. Around him, men fell, c...
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