"When dawn spreads its paintbrush on the plain, spilling purple... ," Sons of the Pioneers theme for TV show "Wagon Train." Dawn on the mythic Santa Fe Trail, New Mexico, looking toward Raton from Cimarron. -- Clarkphoto. A curmudgeon artist's musings melding metaphors and journalism, for readers in more than 150 countries.
Showing posts with label Pickett's charge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pickett's charge. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Into myth, blood & tears, 150 years-- Gettysburg

A mile away, across open fields into deadly fire, the men in gray stepped forward, into death and myth, 150 years ago
North Carolina looks at the objective.
You can't stand there and wonder how...
how men could have stepped into that open field, a mile away from a ridge where other brave Americans waited to kill you.
But they did, 12,500 of them, in butternut and gray, edged from the woods of Seminary Ridge at 2 p.m. 150 years ago. It's known as Pickett's charge, though Pettigrew's division also charged.
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, after two deadly days of fighting, with stalemate, the Army of Northern Virginia attacking the Army of the Potomac.
The line they formed as about a mile long. On Cemetery Ridge, the Union soldiers gasped in admiration, and perhaps in fear at what they knew was coming, and in determination not to yield. 
Today, monuments to the Union units, identified by states, line the top of Cemetery Ridge. Where the Confederates massed a mile away on Seminary Ridge, monuments to those states stand.
As a child, I was taught the "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" was Lincoln's favorite song. I don't know if that's true or not, but I'd like to believe it. Even as a southerner, I think it captures the emotions of that day and time so well. So turn up your volume and listen to this first clip of the Presbyterian choirs singing the song at the recent Westminster church tornado music benefit.



They first stepped forward out of cover in the trees, lining up for the charge.
The monuments do not hint at the bravery, the horror, the sadness of the day. They do help tell the story, and testify to the importance of this battle in American history. If you've not been there, even with the traffic, there's a huge sense of quietness across the fields.
The star-crossed battle flag was not the national flag of the Confederacy, but created so it was easily identified. The real Stars and Bars looked too much like the Union flag from a distance. At least one shell torn flag, under which men died that day, is on display in the park visitor center and museum. Today, the flag has become almost a racist symbol, and I detest those fanatics who have made it so.
Then  they began walking, in butternut and gray. 



The farther they went, the more died


At first, the Federals gasped at the mile long sight, and then they waited as artillery took its toll.
They reached the wall, but that was all they could do.
This is as far as they got that day,
briefly breaching the rock wall, but in not enough force to carry the day. It was the Confederacy's "High Water Mark," and the day the Union survived.
I can't look at these photos, walk the fields, and think about this day without tears.
If you don't get it, I'm sorry, because this battle is part of our American blood.
Some go this close. One of every four killed here was from North Carolina
one hour after it started, almost 6,000 Confederates had been killed or wounded. Pickett lost 3,000 of his division alone. They straggled back to their lines, greeted by General Lee. It was his army's first defeat, and the charge was "Lee's mistake." Told to reform his division, Pickett told Lee, "General, I no longer have a divison."
Union general Meade also made a mistake, by allowing the Confederates to retreat back to Virginia beginning July 4, and prolonging the Civil war for another two bloody years. That's why for years, July 4 was a subdued holiday in the South. You couldn't escape the memories.
Fifty years later, survivors of Pickets charge marched over the ground again.
There are thousands at Gettysburg today, and reenactments as well. I'm thankful for those, because they can give us a sense of the humanity involved, in living color, rather than old black and white photos.
But reenactments aren't new. For years, veterans gathered there to remember, to honor, including these aging Southerners in 1913. For some great photo coverage of this year's re-enacments, check the photos from the Baltimore SunBattle photos
More than 6,000 casualties in less than an hour.







Lincoln was right. We can never forget what these men did here. The men marched into death and history, and myth, that continues today.
Pause at 2 p.m. Eastern time today, and in silence, remember, and salute. Here's another clip of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

Graves of unknown Union soldiers at Gettysburg, killed 150 years ago in the first three days of July.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Gettysburg written in American blood

Barefoot and brave beyond measure, they stepped out of the trees into open fields of knee-high corn, forming ranks a mile long, a mile away from the enemy crouched behind a stonewall at the top of a ridge.
Fifteen thousand men, in butternut and gray, an army that had never tasted defeat, blood red battle flags raised high in the humid July afternoon.
A mile away, the blue-clad foe, battered by a two-hour long artillery barrage, gasped in amazement at the sight below them. The Army of Northern Virginia, advancing on the Army of the Potomac—the two best armies in the world. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. 

The "High Water Mark" where Virginians briefly crossed
that stone wall in Pickett's charge.
An hour and a half later, 10,000 Americans were dead and wounded. July 3, 1863. 

We give grand names to what happened: The High Water Mark, Pickett’s Charge, the Turning Point, America’s greatest battle. But there’s nothing grand about the carnage. About 51,000 Americans were killed, wounded or missing in three days, July 1-3. My eyes glisten as I think about all those men dying for their differing beliefs.
Pickett’s charge, which was also Pettigrew’s and Trimble’s charge, followed two days of terrible fighting with the outcome of the battle was still in doubt. Then General Robert E. Lee made the mistake. Confident in his seasoned veterans, he ordered the frontal assault.
Have you been there? I have, and seen the monuments and the graveyard, and walked the fields.  I don’t understand the courage of men marching to certain death, ironically toward “Cemetery” Ridge where the Federals waited. They walked into murderous artillery fire that obscured the field with smoke and dust. Point-blank artillery and rifle fire cut them to pieces. By the time they got within 25 paces of the stonewall they didn’t have the force to crack the Union line. They crossed the wall, but couldn’t hold. Two Pennsylvania units, suffering almost 50 percent casualties, met the charge and held.
Close up of the monument to the Pennyslvanians who met
and repelled the Virginians at The angle."
You’ve heard of the “Charge of the Light Brigade,” but that unit in another war lost 37 percent of its men. Paltry compared to American losses—on both sides—at Gettysburg and throughout the war. A Minnesota regiment lost 82 percent; a Pennsylvania unit, 75 percent. 23 Federal regiments lost more than 50 percent of their men. 
Three North Carolina Units were wiped out—100 percent. The 26th North Carolina had only 70 men left out of 895. The Carolinians lost one of every four people killed in the entire battle-- more than 20,000. Virginians? Sixty-seven percent of Pickett’s command of 5,500 men was gone. The others in the charge lost from 52 to 62 percent. 
In three days, Lee lost 28,000 men, more than a third of his army. Twenty of his best commanders were gone. The losses there were not unusual for the War…disease from wounds killed an alarming number. In four years of war, The Union lost 360,000 men—110,000 battle deaths and the rest to disease. The Confederacy, 94,000 in battle and 164,000 to disease. More losses for Americans than in all other wars combined.
Gettysburg National Cemetery, dedicated by Lincoln
with his immortal address...Only Union soldiers are
buried here.
After Gettysburg, Lee’s army never won again, never went on the offensive again, although the war lasted another two terrible years before the killing stopped. At Appomattox, he had only 26,000 troops left. 
Bravery beyond measure on both sides. Buford and Chamberlain saving the first two days for the Union, setting the stage of The Charge—raised from obscurity by the book “The Killer Angels” and the resulting movie “Gettysburg.” How can you not watch and cry? 
No wonder the South didn’t celebrate the Fourth of July for many years. Gettysburg, and the fall of Vicksburg a day later spelled a defeat and horror that lingered long.
Lincoln said it best, four months after the battle, dedicating the cemetery:
“…the brave men, living and dead, who struggled here….the world… can never forget what they did here….” 
Where Armistead died, looking back
over the mile of death after breaching the union
lines. Both flags honor him today,
and every July 4.
In spite of my Southern heritage, even though I automatically say “we” when speaking the Confederacy because my non-slave-owning ancestors wore gray, I believe the outcome from those bloody but heroic fields was best for this country. We grow freedom from defeats.
The red stripes on our flag are the blood of those who died at the Alamo, in the Bataan Death March, at Wake Island, at the Battle of the Bulge, at the Marine retreat at Chosin Reservoir, in Tet and at Khe Sanh, and in a thousand places…and at a place called Gettysburg.
As you celebrate your Independence this July Fourth, remember those thousands who died so bravely there 149 years ago.