“...Such a Terribly Wasting Fire”

Poet's Coroner
Mr. Peperium

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phillppians 4:8

Today in the Peperium house we observe the anniversary of the Battle of Brawner Farm. In brief, at around 6:30 PM, August 28th, 1862, while on their way to what would become the Second Battle of Bull Run, a brigade of Wisconsin and Indiana regiments was surprised by a division of Stonewall Jackson’s Second Corps, Army of Northern Virginia. According to Alan T. Nolan’s figures, 2,100 Federals confronted four brigades of Rebels, about 5,200 men. If you’re dividing 5,200 by 4 and getting about 1,300 muskets per Rebel brigade, you’re probably wondering about the discrepancy in size between the Northern and Southern units. The answer is simple: these Confederate brigades had been whittled down by camp disease, desertions and battles. The Midwestern boys knew all about camp diseases and desertions, but this was their first time under fire. At an average range of 70 yards, they went toe-to-toe with Jackson’s veterans in a stand-up fight that lasted a little over two hours. Two other regiments joined the fight, upping the Union total on the field to some 2,900 men, of which 912—or almost a third—fell.

This battle, being the baptism of fire of the only all-Western Brigade in the Army of the Potomac, and the unit being about two weeks away from earning the name they would forever after be known by, the Iron Brigade, my Midwestern patriotism has always been stirred by their story. I secretly hoped that our son would be born on this anniversary (he missed it by one day). Over the years I’ve collected several books on the subject, and as I pulled them off the shelves this morning I realized that re-telling the tale was beyond my poor powers to add or subtract. So I will just let the men speak for themselves.

Bullets from front, and right flank—the air full of them—whistling by our ears—scratching our clothes—burning our faces—bullets seemingly everywhere.

Cole says that he was beside young Stickney during the fight, and the first intimation he had that he was wounded was Stickney’s remark: ‘There, my little finger is gone; but I can still shoot yet.’ In a few minutes he remarked: ‘I am shot through the arm; but I can still shoot yet.’ In, perhaps, five minutes more he (Cole) looked around and saw Stickney’s head fall over on his shoulder, and he jumped and caught him, and found that he was dead; just shot through the head.

Our men on the left loaded and fired with the energy of madmen, and a recklessness of death truly wonderful, but human nature could not stand such a terribly wasting fire. It literally mowed out great gaps in the line, but the isolated squads would rally together and rush up right into the face of Death.

I galloped down the line of our regiment, crying ‘Cheer! Boys, cheer! As loud as you can holler’ ‘Call out Bully for Sigel’ ‘three and a tiger for the reinforcements.’ [There were no reinforcements; this officer was trying to deceive the enemy]

Could you have seen the men of this brigade stand up in line on the night of the 28th of August, not a man skulking or wavering, breasting the terrible fire of nearly a whole division of the enemy, until their ranks were fearfully thinned, and until the enemy had ceased firing, you would have been as proud of them as we were.

They shot me three times through the leg tore a piece of bark from my left hand and cut off my shoulder strap near the cartridge box. But they didn’t do me any serious injury.

Every man in my company seems a hero and when a corporal whom I had disliked quietly says during the battle, ‘Captain, my gun’s so foul I can’t get another cartridge down; can you find me another?’ I felt like embracing him.

Comments

[quasimodo]

you wouldn't know it by listening to some, but they still make them like that.

[Mr. Peperium]

Yes, they do. One of them grew up in the house next door and is due back in the front line in November. Many would not believe it, but he can't wait to get there.

[Old Dominion Tory]

Where I live and work, I see men of this caliber by the hundreds every day. And, every day, I thank God for all of them--and pray for those who went before them and now serve their country.

[Old Dominion Tory]

On a lighter note, it is interesting to note that many of the National Guard units in this part of Virginia still use the appellation, "The Stonewall Brigade." In fact, some have a patch that shows, in silhouette, the statue of Jackson at First Bull Run/Manassas.

[Old Dominion Tory]

Well done, Mr. Peperium!

[Mr. Peperium]

Thank you, ODT. Posts always sound better in my head than they read on the blog.

I just had a sobering thought. That casualty figure: 912 for two hours' fighting. Granted, that's killed, wounded and missing. But do we recall the paroxism of national berevement the Democrats tried to throw the country into on the accasion of our 1,000th casualty in Iraq (after how many months of fighting)?

[Dan Patterson]

The rebel cause, an act of armed rebellion against the loosely united United States, was doomed from its beginning; forged from a confederation of agricultural economies dependant on slave labor and with casual societal ties to neighboring states, the secession movement may have some academic parallel to the earlier declaration and war for independance of the colonies from the King of England. But any bookish comparison is diluted by the weight of romance associated with the struggles on both warring sides during the civil war.

It may just be the passing of time and the oddly quaint, naive tone of the writing of the day, but the of-course acts of those men of both sides are elevated by a sense of brotherhood and welded-together purpose known only to those who've worn a military uniform. The Rebel army fought with vigor and some early success, although greatly outnumbered by men and material, and were able to make the most of their strengths for a time. The Union army had to fight against itself for much of the war, and against a current of poor leadership and poorly executed plans for the first two years. But the Union prevailed and, as nicely written by historians and story-tellers, that victory allowed the Union to emerge stronger than before.

Academic similarities between the American Civil War and the effort in Iraq and Afghanistan against a carefully named insurgent force might be made, and might look pleasing on paper to a soft-palmed teaching assistant. But a strong alloy exists going all the way from the military in Iraq to at least as far back as the men on both sides in the Battle of Brawner Farm. And it is precisely that metal that is missed by the clucking tongues writing for the major media outlets: The terrorists in Iraq are fighting to prevent liberty and freedom, not to protect it. The men at Brawner Farm fought either to protect one union or to create another.

The romantic fog that surrounds the rebel cause during the American Civil War might be largely due to the behavior after the war of the Union forces that faced them. The people who hold the Confederate effort in some esteem do not do so for love of the cause, but for the valiant struggle against a superior foe. General Grant may have healed more than any other by his treatment of the defeated enemy at Appomatox, and by his respect for his gentleman opponent, Lee. A reunion of the men at Gettysburg in the 1920's (earlier?) retraced the steps of Pickett's Charge. When the former rebels made the fence just yards before the stone wall, the Union veterans behind the wall stood and cheered. We hear of similar reunions between tin-can sailors on WWII destroyers and Japanese airmen, or grey-haired Vietnam vets and their former Victor-Charlie enemy.

It seems that it is not the men that are hated, but their cause. The great shame of our time is that in some very vocal sections of our society both the cause and the men are misunderstood and hated. I do not deserve the freedoms I enjoy, but it is because of the sacrifice and bravery of the military, past and present, that I am able to make whatever of my life that I choose. My thanks to the bond that ties military men together, and to the ability of those men and women on "our side" who are able to preserve liberty and freedom.

Dan Patterson
Arrogant Infidel

[Mr. Peperium]

Thank you, Arrogant Infidel. A great, thoughtful, insightful comment. Yes, there is a direct line from Brawner Farm to today. The spirit still lives. I know because I have seen it. There is a direct line from Valley Forge, from Antietam, from Normandy. I have only briefly worn a uniform (in ROTC my first year of college) but I witnessed that brotherhood among my officers, all of them Viet Name veterans. I meet it every time the captain who grew up next door comes home on leave. It is an attitude of mind and spirit I admire no end and secretly suspect I would be incapable, if given the chance, of ever emulating.

For some insight into the healing process and the Lost Cause aura that grew out of it, a good book is Carol Reardon's Pickett's Charge in History and Memory ( I think I have that title right). According to her, after the veterans ofthe Charge reached the wall the old men in blue refused to let them over, saying they had stopped them once and they could do it again. Apparently there was some violence involving walking sticks.