Sarah Rosetta Wakeman (January 16, 1843 – June 19, 1864) stands as a poignant symbol of bravery and resilience, embodying the hidden narratives of women who defied societal norms to serve in the American Civil War. Disguised as a man under the name Lyons Wakeman, Sarah Rosetta joined the Union Army and served in Company H of the 153rd New York Volunteer Infantry. For nearly a century, her remarkable story remained untold, locked away in letters that lay forgotten in a relative's attic.

Born into a struggling farming family in Bainbridge, New York, Wakeman was the eldest of nine children. By the age of seventeen, she had already taken on significant responsibilities, working as a domestic servant to help support her family. Faced with immense financial pressure and limited prospects, she made the bold decision to leave home in 1862, donning male attire and taking on the name Lyons Wakeman. She found work as a boatman on the Chenango Canal, a job that further distanced her from the traditional roles expected of women at the time. The letters she wrote during this period hint at familial tensions, perhaps stemming from her unconventional choices.

While working on the canal, Wakeman encountered army recruiters who were offering a $152 bounty for enlistment—a substantial sum that far exceeded what she could earn as a woman. Driven by the opportunity to secure financial independence and aid her family, she enlisted on August 30, 1862, as a private in Company H of the 153rd New York State Volunteers. Standing at just five feet tall, with fair skin, brown hair, and blue eyes, Wakeman misrepresented her age on her enlistment papers, claiming to be twenty-one rather than her actual age of seventeen or eighteen.

Wakeman's regiment was initially assigned to guard duty in Alexandria, Virginia, and later in Washington, D.C., where they protected vital food supplies for the Union. Despite the monotony of camp life and the harsh conditions of soldiering, Wakeman thrived in her new identity, writing in one letter, "I liked to be a soldier very well." The long hours of downtime allowed her to maintain regular correspondence with her family, often sending money home in an effort to mend the rift her departure had caused. She signed her letters with her birth name, a risky choice that could have exposed her true identity and ended her military career prematurely.

Wakeman's letters offer a rare glimpse into the life of a woman soldier during the Civil War. She expressed pride in her ability to earn her own way and relished the independence that came with her disguise. Her deep religious faith provided solace amid the turmoil of war, and she often reflected on her experiences with a sense of duty and purpose. One particularly intriguing episode in her service involved her time as a guard at Washington's Carroll Prison, where she encountered a woman arrested for the very crime Wakeman herself was committing: impersonating a man to fight for the Union.

In February 1864, Wakeman's regiment was deployed to an active battlefield, participating in Major General Nathaniel P. Banks's ill-fated Red River Campaign in Louisiana. On April 9, 1864, she faced combat for the first time during the Battle of Pleasant Hill. In a letter sent shortly afterward, she described the harrowing experience of being under fire for four hours and spending the night on the battlefield. "I feel thankful to God that he spared my life," she wrote, "and I pray to him that he will lead me safely through the field of battle and that I may return safely home."

Tragically, Wakeman's wish to return home would never be fulfilled. The Red River Campaign claimed countless lives, including Wakeman's own. She contracted chronic diarrhea, a common and often fatal illness among soldiers caused by unsanitary conditions and contaminated water. On June 19, 1864, she died at the Marine USA General Hospital in New Orleans. Her true identity remained undiscovered at the time of her burial, and she was laid to rest with full military honors at Chalmette National Cemetery under the name Lyons Wakeman.

It wasn't until 1976, over a century after her death, that Wakeman's story came to light. Her letters, discovered in a relative's attic, were edited and published in 1994 by Lauren Burgess as *An Uncommon Soldier: The Civil War Letters of Sarah Rosetta Wakeman, alias Pvt. Lyons Wakeman, 153rd Regiment, New York State Volunteers, 1862–1864.* Today, these letters, along with a photograph and a ring, are cherished by her descendants as enduring symbols of her courage and determination.

Sarah Rosetta Wakeman's legacy is one of quiet heroism, a testament to the extraordinary lengths to which women have gone to serve their country and assert their independence. Her story enriches our understanding of the Civil War, reminding us that the fight for freedom and equality often took place on battlefields far removed from public view.