The other day, Kelly the Museum Dog of Civil War Tails got to cross paths with a dog of history—although she didn’t know it. While out on our morning walk, we took a new route and headed down Confederate Avenue behind Culp’s Hill. I’m not sure that I have ever been back there, in all my trips around the battlefield over the years. Kelly is good at discovering new roads, though. Every alley or path might be an adventure, and we’ve taken to exploring one now and then. On this particular adventure, it meant our walk ended up being about three times its usual length!

As we tromped along, we passed the markers for the brigades of Confederate Gen. Edward Johnson’s division, including the old “Stonewall Brigade” made famous by, of course, Stonewall Jackson. A little farther on, we reached the marker for Gen. George “Maryland” Steuart’s brigade. Wait a minute! They’re the one with the black dog! So, while Kelly gazed down a path through the woods and wondered what exciting critters might be down there, I told her about a fellow black dog on Culp’s Hill.

Gen. George “Maryland” Steuart’s brigade’s marker

On the morning of July 3, 1863, the fighting that had raged until well after dark the night before started up again. After fruitless assaults on the entrenched Union line, the Confederates of Johnson’s division tried one last time. On the right of Steuart’s brigade were the 1^st Maryland Battalion and the 3^rd North Carolina. The latter had been chewed to bits, and officers present recalled that only eighteen men were left in the ranks. The 1^st Maryland had approximately 300 in its ranks—and also a furry canine mascot. In a painting of the fighting on the hill, artist Peter Rothermel depicts the dog as an average-sized black dog. According to the internet, the dog’s name was Grace or Gracie and she was listed on the muster rolls, but we have not been able to confirm that information.

The men of Johnson’s division were not looking forward to the attack. On the right, the Stonewall Brigade faced a heavily wooded, boulder-strewn slope, with the Union troops well entrenched behind log breastworks on the crest. Steuart’s brigade, on the left, would have to cross an open field. Major William Goldsborough, commanding the 1^st Maryland, said the order to charge “was nothing less than murder.”

Monument for the 1st Maryland Battalion, C.S.A. (bearing their later designation of “2nd Maryland” to avoid confusion)

With bayonets fixed and Gen. Steuart advancing with them, the 1^st Maryland started off. The regiment was split, with five companies on the left of a stone wall, and two companies on the right with the 3^rd North Carolina. As soon as the five companies left the trees, the Union infantry and artillery opened fire. Maj. Goldsborough was wounded, and the battalion was shattered. The Virginia regiments to their left retreated, and Goldsborough watched the remnants of his battalion do the same, seeking cover from the “merciless storm of bullets.”

Meanwhile, the right two companies and the North Carolinians kept steadily advancing, still under cover. The Union troops waited until they were about fifty yards away, then opened fire. Still they advanced, but when they were forty paces from the Union line, an order came to retreat. Capt. William Murray, now in command after the major was wounded, also fell wounded. Some men rushed the Union works, and some retreated for cover.

Perhaps at this point in the fighting, the 1^st Maryland’s mascot dashed forward and “came in among the Boys in Blue,” the Union brigade commander, Gen. Thomas Kane, recalled, “as if he supposed they were…merely the men of another noisy [fire] hose or engine company.” Some of his men recalled that the dog barked “in valorous glee.” Gen. Kane’s personal memory, however, was of seeing the dog limping on three legs, wandering through the fallen of both blue and gray, “as though looking for a dead master, or seeking on which side he might find an explanation of the Tragedy he witnessed, intelligible to his canine apprehension.”

Small marker at the farthest point reached by the 1st Maryland on July 3. The regiment’s mascot was probably mortally wounded nearby.

By the end of the fighting, the dog had been riddled with bullets, but in true loving, forgiving canine fashion, she licked the hand of one of her Union captors before she died. Gen. Kane ordered her honorably buried “as the only Christian minded being on either side” of the murderous fighting on the hill.

Gen. Steuart made it through the fighting safely, but the devastation to his men—the 1^st Maryland alone lost half its number—reduced him to tears. As he watched them fall back, he cried, “My poor boys! My poor boys!”

Kelly, gazing in the direction from which the 1st Maryland’s black dog would have come. She appears to be pondering the connection of two black dogs across 158 years, but, well, she’s probably looking at a chipmunk in the bushes.

While Kelly has no idea that she was treading the same ground as another black dog 158 years ago, it was poignant for me to stand with her by the three markers related to the 1^st Maryland. We reached the marker for Steuart’s brigade first, on Confederate Avenue and then, as we headed back up along the Union line, we found the monument for the 1^st Maryland Battalion. It is the only one on the battlefield raised by a Confederate veterans’ association and bears their 1864 designation of 2^nd Maryland—a witness to the fact that they were facing fellow Marylanders, the Union 1^st Maryland, Eastern Shore. The monument stands near the location where their commander, Lt. Col. James Herbert, was mortally wounded on the night of July 2^nd.

Following the curve of the road a little farther, we came upon a small marker about 100 yards inside the Union lines. The wording is nearly eroded away, but it reads, “Point reached by 1^st MD Battalion C.S.A. July 3^rd, 1863.” This then, would be approximately where the regiment’s final surge broke into the Union lines and probably near where Gen. Kane saw the wounded black dog. One wonders if, as the veterans dedicated the main monument and the small marker, any of them thought of their furry companion who also fell on that deadly slope.

Sources:

Hawthorne, Frederick W. Gettysburg: Stories of Men and Monuments as Told By Battlefield Guides. Gettysburg: The Association of Licensed Battlefield Guides, 1988.

Pfanz, Harry W. Gettysburg: Culp’s Hill and Cemetery Hill. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1993.

Today is the anniversary of the final day of the battle of Gettysburg. In this Mewsing, we take the opportunity to spotlight a few of our cat-soldiers who portray specific officers and men on our Gettysburg dioramas.

If you have been to Civil War Tails Diorama Museum or browsed our website, you know that we have nearly 9,000 cats and some of them portray actual historical figures. We call the latter “identified” cats. What you might not realize, however, is that we have hundreds of identified figures. Even Rebecca, our Cat Census guru, doesn’t know how many (although writing this Mewsing has made her want to count them up and see!). On “The Fate of Gettysburg” alone, we have 57 specific officers and men. Some are familiar names, such as Generals Richard B. Garnett and Lewis A. Armistead, two of Gen. Pickett’s brigade commanders. Others are probably unknown to any but those who enjoy reading a lot about Pickett’s Charge, such as Pvt. Erasmus Williams and Cpl. Jordan Webb. Our Little Round Top diorama, “The Boys Are Still There,” will have over 50 identified officers and men as well, when it is finished.

Today we focus on four pairs. In each case, the regimental colors passed from one man to the other. Since color-bearers were prime targets, regiments tended to go through several in a fight—sometimes as many as a dozen color-bearers fell. But on our dioramas, it is not always the case that we have several of those men specifically portrayed.

One such pair is on “The Boys Are Still There.” As the 20^th Maine Infantry fought to hold the left flank of Col. Vincent’s brigade secure on Little Round Top, Sgt. Andrew Tozier stolidly held the regiment’s national colors at the apex of the line. Amazingly, he was not hit, but the color guard around him—sergeants, corporals, and one private tasked with guarding the flag—was decimated. One of them, Cpl. Charlie Reed, was wounded in the wrist. He could have headed immediately to the aid station, but he chose to stay and continue doing his duty. Unable to use his rifle, however, he traded Tozier for the flag. Eventually, as he lost blood, he finally had to return the flag to Tozier and make his way to the rear to have his wound tended. Tozier settled the flagstaff in the crook of his elbow and continued firing Reed’s rifle. Col. Chamberlain and Maj. Spear both witnessed this. Chamberlain recommended Tozier for the Medal of Honor for his defense of the flag, and Spear noted that Tozier was calmly chewing on a piece of cartridge paper. When the regiment launched their famous bayonet charge, Sgt. Tozier advanced with them, still carrying the colors, unscathed.

Cpl. Charlie Reed (20th Maine)

Sgt. Andrew Tozier (20th Maine)

Our other pairs are found on “The Fate of Gettysburg.” As Gen. Garnett’s brigade neared the stone wall during Pickett’s Charge, the 28^th Virginia Infantry lost several color-bearers in succession. Their colonel, Robert C. Allen, then took up the flag. Leading his regiment forward, he fell severely wounded near the stone wall. He passed the flag on to Lt. John A. J. Lee. The Union troops giving way, Allen’s Virginians took that section of wall. The wounded colonel asked a nearby man about the flag and then, probably having been told that it had successfully crossed the wall, he placed his hat on his head and died.

Meanwhile, Lt. Lee had indeed crossed the wall; he is said to have been the first of the division to do so. He jumped on the wall and waved the flag, and a bullet struck the staff. Later, as the Union counterattack surged forward, Lee fell wounded. A Union soldier demanded his surrender, but a fellow Confederate from his regiment bayoneted the soldier. Lee did end up being captured, and the flag was left resting against one of Lt. Cushing’s guns where it was captured by a soldier from the 1^st Minnesota Infantry.

Col. Robert C. Allen (28th Virginia)

Lt. John A. J. Lee (28th Virginia)

When Gen. Armistead’s brigade struck the Union line, Cpl. Robert Tyler Jones leaped onto the wall and waved the flag of the 53^rd Virginia Infantry. He received a severe wound and fell forward over the wall. Lt. Hutchings Carter then took up the flag and continued on. Jones remained by the wall, holding a pistol and making sure none of his fellow Confederates were inclined to retreat.

Cpl. Robert Tyler Jones (53rd Virginia)

Lt. Hutchings Carter (53rd Virginia) (Lt. Lee of the 28th Virginia is carrying the flag in the background)

On the Union side, as regiments poured into the Copse of Trees to plug the gap and stop the Confederates, one of the units was the 1^st Minnesota, sadly depleted from their gallant, desperate charge the day before. Carrying the flag was Cpl. John Dehn, the last of the color guard. During the moments that the fight hung in the balance as both sides pounded at each other, a bullet struck the flagstaff, splintering it in half and wounding Cpl. Dehn in the hand. Cpl. Henry O’Brien took the flag and sprang forward. The regiment followed him, starting a counterattack in the Copse. In the short, fierce melee that followed, O’Brien was wounded twice. He would survive, and like Sgt. Tozier, he received the Medal of Honor for his actions.

Cpl. John Dehn (1st Minnesota)

Cpl. Henry O’Brien (1st Minnesota)

Today we are starting a new series in Mewsings, answering questions that visitors to our museum have asked. Eventually, we will make a tab for FAQs on our website. If you have a question that we haven’t covered, email us at info@civilwartails.com and we will consider adding it to the list!

The FAQ for this Mewsing is how do we start a diorama?

Our first step in making a diorama is picking a story. Generally speaking, as we read a book on an aspect of the Civil War, we will come across a story and think, “That would make a cool diorama,” or “Wow, we should totally make a diorama of that.” Stories that catch our interest usually involve bravery, heroism, or desperation. Sometimes a story is humorous, or sometimes we want to show a particular item of interest, such as Prof. Thaddeus Lowe’s observation balloon Intrepid (that scene is currently in storage, especially since a mouse chewed up the basket on the balloon!).

Once we have decided to make a diorama of a particular event, we look at maps in books on the subject to see exactly what the area involves. How much space does the regiment cover? Is the enemy close enough for us to include them on the diorama? What buildings or topographical features are involved (hills, woods, streams, fences, walls)?

The next consideration is scale. For a small scene, such as “Desperation at Skull Camp Bridge,” we could use a larger scale because the scene would not involve a lot of figures. A scale of 2-inch-tall cats is okay if there are only sixty soldiers involved. But it would be impossible to use cats of that size for a to-scale diorama with 3,000 soldiers, such as “The Fate of Gettysburg,” unless you have a warehouse to fit it in!

Once we decide on the scale, we calculate the ideal size and, well, the practical size.

First, we calculate the size we would ideally want the diorama to be. Take “The Boys Are Still There” (Little Round Top), for example. We knew it would be a large diorama, rivaling “The Fate of Gettysburg” in size. But how big? This is a section of the topographical map that we use (similar to the one found here), with our planning marks drawn in pencil (the colored lines are photo-shopped in for the purposes our Mewsing).

The red lines show initial markings that would allow us to include space for the Confederates advancing up the west slope, the entire 15^th Alabama to the south, and perhaps even Company B of the 20^th Maine, who ended up separated and on their own, due to a misunderstanding (red circle). Early in our calculations, we realized that this would result in an enormous diorama, so we had to trim the area down. We finally settled on the green box. This worked out to exactly 11 feet long, fitting the Signal Corps station on the north end of the hill, and the 15^th Alabama to the south.

We make our dioramas in sections that can fit through doorways, so the next question was if the diorama should be 2-doorways or 3-doorways wide. With two, we could fit the Confederates on the west slope and the left wing of the 20^th Maine on the east slope of the spur (the blue lines show the section breaks). Adding another section (the purple lines) would mean we could have the right end of the 15^th Alabama (over 2/3 of the regiment was facing the 20^th Maine’s left wing; red ovals), but it would mean a lot of blank space on the north end of the diorama, so it wasn’t really worth the extra space. So, our current diorama measures 11’ x 4’8” and fits nearly everything we wanted to portray.

Then, we take into consideration whether we are limited by the size we have available. For “The Fate of Gettysburg,” we were limited by how much floor-space we had in the room where we could set it up. So, given the space available and the scale of the cats (which was as small as we could make them at the time), we had to cut off a portion of the Copse of Trees  in order to fit the Angle of the stone wall onto the opposite side of the diorama (red markings below).

After we have settled on the size and finalized what we are portraying, the planning phase is done, and it’s time to move on to making the diorama!

Today on our trip around Civil War Tails, we visit “At All Hazards.” You can check out more in-depth photos around Civil War Tails in our previous Mewsings, too!

In today’s Mewsing, we take a look at the beginning stages of the battle of Chancellorsville, fought this day in 1863. The battle was the epitome of the great working relationship between Robert E. Lee and “Stonewall” Jackson. Its battle plan—splitting an outnumbered army to attack the larger enemy—was a daring one that, even today, flies in the face of common sense. And yet it was a brilliant success. Chancellorsville may very well have been the Army of Northern Virginia’s greatest victory.

During the winter of 1862-63 the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was encamped near Fredericksburg, Virginia. The Union Army of the Potomac lay facing them across the Rappahannock River. After the failure of the battle of Fredericksburg and the Mud March, President Lincoln replaced Gen. Ambrose Burnside with Gen. Joe “Fighting Joe” Hooker. Hooker was proud and known for criticizing others, but Lincoln hoped that that very pride and fighting spirit would make him a general who won battles.

Starting out on April 27, the Union army moved upriver, crossed, and passed around the Confederate left flank, forging ahead through the dense woods and undergrowth of the Wilderness. When they reached a clearing near Chancellorsville, the Chancellor’s house, they formed a battle line and settled down to await further orders. Hooker bragged that the Confederates would have to either run or fight the Union army on its own ground.

Gen. Lee was unsure where Hooker planned to attack. Some Union troops crossed the river in front of him, but they did not strike. Then Lee learned of Union troops near Chancellorsville. Lee quickly sent Gen. “Stonewall” Jackson’s corps off to find the Union army.

On May 1, the Union army hit the Confederates. But then Hooker told his men to halt and retreat to their original positions near the Chancellor house. The orders shocked and baffled his generals. They were doing well; why should they retreat? Later, Hooker explained, “For once I lost confidence in Hooker.”

On the evening of May 1, Lee met with Jackson. As they talked, Gen. Jeb Stuart rode up and told them the Union army’s right flank was in the air. Lee looked at Jackson. “What do you propose to do?”

On the sketched map provided by Jedediah Hotchkiss of his staff, Jackson pointed at a long road that led around the Union right flank. “Go around here.”

Lee asked what troops he would use.

Jackson calmly replied that he would use his whole corps.

Both generals knew this would leave only two divisions facing the rest of the Union army. But Lee trusted his second-in-command and hardly hesitated before saying, “Well, go on.”

At 7:00 a.m. on May 2, Jackson’s lead regiments marched past Lee’s headquarters. “Stonewall” rode up and down the lines, telling the men to “Press on! Press on!” They must march rapidly if they were to cover the 14 miles around the Union flank and still have time to attack before dark.

Later in the day, Union lookouts saw the marching Confederates, and Hooker realized they were trying to flank him. Some of his troops attacked the gray column but were beaten back. Hooker decided the Confederates must be retreating.

At last, the Confederates reached their positions and formed into three lines of battle. At 5:15 p.m., with less than three hours left before dark, Jackson turned to Gen. Robert E. Rodes, commanding the first battle line, and asked if everything was ready. Rodes replied in the affirmative. “You can go forward, then,” Jackson said calmly.

The unsuspecting Union soldiers were preparing dinner when deer, rabbits, squirrels and all sorts of forest animals began scurrying through the camp. The soldiers laughed and joked about the animals but did not wonder at the reason. Suddenly, thousands of Confederates appeared through the trees, screaming the high-pitched Rebel Yell.

The gray lines swarmed over the surprised Union soldiers, some of whom were so scared they couldn’t even fire their guns before being swept away by the gray juggernaut. The Union flank crumbled. By the time darkness halted the attack, two miles of the Union line had been rolled up.

Lee and Jackson’s gamble had paid off. But this was not a time to rest on their laurels; there was more work to be done in the morning—unless a night attack could be made. “Stonewall” Jackson rode out between the opposing lines to reconnoiter and decide…but that is a Mewsing for another time.

On the evening of April 9, 1865, Gen. Joshua Chamberlain received word that he would command the Union troops receiving the surrender of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. Gen. Grant had been generous in his terms to Gen. Lee, but he did feel and insist that the Confederates should lay down their arms before Union troops representing the Union army. Chamberlain, feeling “this was to be a crowning incident of history,” asked his corps commander, Gen. Griffin, if he could use his old Third Brigade, who he had served with for two years and commanded after Gettysburg. “I thought these veterans deserved this recognition,” he recalled in his reminiscences. Griffin obliged, transferring Chamberlain to command of the Third instead of the First Brigade.

On the morning of April 12—a chilly, gray day—Chamberlain’s men formed along the side of the road to await the Confederates. Chamberlain, still loathe to forget the other men he had commanded during the war, received permission to have the First and Second Brigades present as well, the former behind the Third, and the latter across the road, facing them.

From where they stood, they could see the Confederates breaking camp and then forming into column. “On they come,” Chamberlain recalled, “with the old swinging route step and swaying battle-flags.”

Chamberlain had given thought to the “momentous meaning” of this day, and had already issued orders that would mark it with a fitting honor. Like many of the Union troops, he couldn’t help but respect the thin, worn gray soldiers who approached. “Before us in proud humiliation stood the embodiment of manhood: men whom neither toils and sufferings, nor the fact of death, nor disaster, nor hopelessness could bend from their resolve.”

At the head of the first Confederate division, Gen. John B. Gordon rode, Chamberlain recalled, “with heavy spirit and downcast face.” Suddenly, a bugle rang out and the whole Union line “from right to left, regiment by regiment in succession,” shifted their rifles from “order arms” to “carry arms”—the soldier’s salute. Gordon “catches the sound of shifting arms, looks up, and, taking the meaning, wheels superbly, making with himself and his horse one uplifted figure, with profound salutation as he drops the point of his sword to the boot toe; then facing to his own command, gives word for his successive brigades to pass us with the same position of the manual,—honor answering honor.”

Few eyes were dry as the Confederates passed by, halted facing Chamberlain’s Third Brigade, and dressed their lines. They fixed bayonets and then stacked their rifles, and laid down their cartridge boxes and battle flags. All day long, division after division came. Many units carried bare flagpoles, having torn their flags into pieces, distributing them among the soldiers, or having buried the flags.

Gordon recalled the event in his Reminiscences: “as my men marched in front of them, the veterans in blue gave a soldierly salute to those vanquished heroes—a token of respect from Americans to Americans.” Chamberlain was also aware of the repaired unity of the nation: his men, he mused, were “men of near blood born, made nearer by blood shed. Those facing us—now, thank God! the same.”

March 25 is National Medal of Honor Day. Here at Civil War Tails, we currently have 11 recipients either portrayed or mentioned on our dioramas. In today’s Mewsing, we are highlighting those recipients who were involved in repulsing Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg on July 3, 1863. (Italicized quotes are from each man’s Medal of Honor citation, which can be found on the Medal of Honor Society’s website or on Wikipedia.)

Lt. Alonzo Cushing, Battery A, 4^th U.S. Artillery, Pickett’s Charge, Gettysburg, Pa., 3 July 1863 – “First Lieutenant Alonzo H. Cushing distinguished himself by acts of bravery above and beyond the call of duty… [During the cannonade before Pickett’s Charge,] First Lieutenant Cushing directed fire for his own artillery battery. He refused to leave the battlefield after being struck in the shoulder by a shell fragment. As he continued to direct fire, he was struck again – this time suffering grievous damage to his abdomen. Still refusing to abandon his command, he…continued to direct devastating fire into oncoming forces.… First Lieutenant Cushing’s extraordinary heroism and selflessness above and beyond the call of duty at the cost of his own life are in keeping with the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, Battery A, 4^th U.S. Artillery, Army of the Potomac, and the United States Army.”

Sgt. Frederick Füger, Battery A, 4^th U.S. Artillery, Pickett’s Charge, Gettysburg, Pa., 3 July 1863 – “…for extraordinary heroism on 3 July 1863, while serving with Battery A, 4^th U.S. Artillery, in action at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. All the officers of his battery having been killed or wounded and five of its guns disabled in Pickett’s assault, Sergeant Füger succeeded to the command and fought the remaining gun with most distinguished gallantry until the battery was ordered withdrawn.”

Gen. Alexander Webb, Philadelphia Brigade, Pickett’s Charge, Gettysburg, Pa., 3 July 1863 – Gen. Webb commanded the Philadelphia Brigade at the Angle, where Pickett’s division struck the Union line. After trying to lead the immovable 72^nd Pennsylvania forward, Webb joined the 69^th Pennsylvania at the stone wall where they were grappling—sometimes literally—with the Confederates. Despite being in the thick of the fighting alongside his men, Webb emerged safely, having only been grazed by a bullet. He received the Medal of Honor for “distinguished personal gallantry in leading his men forward at a critical period in the contest.”

Maj. Edmund Rice, 19^th Massachusetts Infantry, Pickett’s Charge, Gettysburg, Pa., 3 July 1863 – The 19^th Massachusetts was one of the regiments that piled into the Copse to plug the gap in Webb’s line and help repulse Pickett’s Charge. Maj. Rice received the Medal of Honor for “conspicuous bravery… [in] the countercharge against Pickett’s division where he fell severely wounded…”

Cpl. Henry O’Brien, 1^st Minnesota Infantry, Pickett’s Charge, Gettysburg, Pa., 3 July 1863 – “for extraordinary heroism on 3 July 1863…. Taking up the colors where they had fallen, Corporal O’Brien rushed ahead of his regiment, close to the muzzles of the enemy’s guns, and engaged in the desperate struggle in which the enemy was defeated, and though severely wounded, he held the colors until wounded a second time.” Cpl. O’Brien is one of two enlisted men that we at Civil War Tails often credit with starting the Union counterattack in the Angle.

A week and a half ago, we here on Baltimore Street had some excitement—and not of the good kind. Shortly after 4:00 a.m. on March 1^st, a car plowed into the buildings that housed the Blue & Gray Gift Shop and the Crystal Wand, and exploded. A 4-alarm fire engulfed both buildings and it took firefighters two hours to put out the flames. Later that day, the day that the Blue & Gray Gift Shop was supposed to open for the season, the building was razed completely. The future of the other building is still being determined. While the driver of the car lost his life, amazingly he was the only fatality, and all the tenants made it out safely.

A tragedy like this really makes us stop and think. Here are a few thoughts we have had over the last ten days.

• Don’t take anything for granted. As fellow business owners here at Civil War Tails, we feel deeply for the owners of the Blue & Gray Gift Shop and the Crystal Wand. In a mere two hours, not only did their spring tourist season plans change, but everything was gone. We all know on some level that things can change in an instant, but this is a very tangible reminder. So, appreciate the blessings in your life, but be aware that in a split-second, they can disappear.
• Cherish your loved ones. Somewhere, a family is hurting, because in one split-second, a life ended. And undoubtedly they never saw it coming. Make sure the people you love know that you love them—now. Tomorrow morning might be too late.
• Remember, your decisions may affect another person’s life in a drastic way. We probably will never know why that car went off the road in the rain at 70+ mph at 4 a.m. But of all the possible reasons, some are things we can control (speed, awareness of road conditions, driving under the influence) and some are not (vehicle malfunctions, medical emergencies). Even if we think of ourselves as safe drivers, we still need the reminder: use wisdom to control what you can Lives, dreams, livelihoods, and possessions of others are at stake—not to mention your own life!
• Be grateful for our police (first on the scene), our EMS (second on the scene), and our firefighters—and support them. As we watched from our front yard, it struck me how in a situation where I would be helpless to help, each person on the scene knew exactly what to do. No one was panicked, no scurrying here and there like on TV—just calm, cool, doing their jobs, and taking control of the situation, minute by minute, window by window, flame by flame. The Inn at Cemetery Hill stands right behind the Blue & Gray Gift Shop, and thanks to the firefighters’ skill, it—as well as other nearby buildings—remains unscathed. Support your local fire department, even if only financially. Don’t take them for granted. And remember, by supporting your department, you’re helping protect more than just your local neighbors. Crews from many area departments came in the rain and fought those flames for two hours. I’m sure our local department couldn’t have done it alone.
• Be aware of Providence. Maybe you call it chance, but you need to consider “the little things” that show God is at work in our world today.
  • Was it just chance that a gym employee who lives just a couple buildings away was ready to head to work at the time of impact? He was on the scene immediately and because of his gym training, skill, and strength, he was able to rescue a trapped tenant. Let me just say, how many of us could do a chin-up onto a balcony? I sure can’t!
  • On Monday evening, the wind picked up into heavy gusts. Can you imagine fighting a 4-alarm fire in heavy wind? How many more buildings would have gone up? Was it just luck that 4 a.m. was calm with little or no breeze?
  • Consider even the really little things—it was a 4-alarm fire and a cat was lost inside one building. What were the odds that the cat would not only survive but safely make it back to its owner? Chance doesn’t care about you, but God cares for all of His creatures, even little furry ones.

Walking past the smoke-blackened, forlorn, empty building that housed Crystal Wand and the empty hole where the Blue & Gray Gift Shop once stood is a sobering wake-up call. Let us love our family more, loosen our hold on our possessions, and teach ourselves and our children that our decisions over things in our control affect other people, even when we are alone in the middle of the night.

“Desperation at Skull Camp Bridge” is enjoying a little extra attention these days. During this revamp, we are adding a few new horses to fill in the gaps and beef up the Union defensive line. It’s a good chance to give a home to some unused horses that we made years ago, and time to make some new ones.

We hope you enjoy taking a stroll through the snapshots of new faces. Does a particular cat or horse catch your eye or imagination? Take a screenshot or print the photo and bring it with you the next time you visit Civil War Tails. Then you can enjoy your very own mini-scavenger hunt as you look for him on the diorama!

Sometimes an old-timer just needs a little glue to make him jump higher!

In the thick of things!

The current events of the last year have started us mewsing about how we view people with whom we do not agree. Watching the news and social media, it is easy to see “the other side” as faces on a screen, which is, in effect, dehumanizing them. That is a dangerous slippery slope. Please take the time to read and ponder this mewsing seriously.

During the Civil War, things were no different than they are now. Both sides vilified the other in newspaper print and in political speech. Individual citizens—civilian and soldier—easily lumped people of the other side into general stereotyped beliefs, rather than recognizing real human beings. For both sides, losing the war would be the end of the world. Sound familiar? This is human nature. But the big question is, when push comes to shove, do you believe the person from “the other side” is a human or a personification of an ideology? It’s an important distinction. Either view will dictate how you interact with that person.

What does it look like if you view “the other side” as a human? It means you will respect them, whether you agree with them or not. It means, when face-to-face, you will see a human, not an enemy. During the fighting on Little Round Top at Gettysburg, Pvt. Philip Grine of the 83^rd Pennsylvania Infantry ventured out between the fighting lines to retrieve a wounded Confederate. Later, he went out for a second enemy soldier. A third time he went out, and he was killed in the attempt to rescue yet another wounded Confederate. Why did he do it? To rescue fellow men who lay stranded and bleeding, and to see that they received medical attention at his regiment’s aid station. He didn’t care which uniform they wore, merely that they were suffering and he could do something about it, even at the risk of his own life.

But what happens when you dehumanize the other person? If we do not believe that every human being—whether we agree with them or not—is as valuable and deserving of life as we are, then we open the door to war crimes and atrocities:

At Fort Pillow during the Civil War, African-American soldiers were massacred after they had surrendered.

During WWII, German SS troops (not to be confused with the Wehrmacht, the German army) rounded up 80 prisoners who had surrendered, herded them into a barn, and then tossed in grenades and strafed them with machine gun and rifle fire.

In bushido, the code of the Japanese samurai, to lose is to lose your honor (respect). This view meant that Japanese soldiers in WWII had no respect for defeated enemy soldiers. During the Bataan Death March, Allied POWs were made to march over 80 miles, in extreme heat, without food, with little to no water, and in constant fear of random beatings or death by bullet or bayonet.

We all have beliefs that we feel strongly about. Opposing views can cause us to “see red.” But this is why the First Amendment is so important. It is the right to be able to speak my mind—and for you to speak yours, too. It does not mean we have to agree, and it does not mean that one of us has to give in to the other; it means we can discuss our beliefs and try to persuade each other, but it’s okay if we walk away from each other maintaining our original positions. Most importantly, we do not try to crush each other into submission. If we take this right away and silence those who believe differently, we dehumanize them, slipping down the slope toward the atrocities that come hand-in-hand with that. It sounds extreme, but the danger is closer than we might think. Let me ask you a question. Answer it honestly.

If you were faced with a member of “the other side” (politically, ideologically, religiously—think of anyone who “makes your blood boil”) who is in trouble, do you feel sympathy or that they “had it coming” and deserved it? What is your gut reaction?

If you really dig down deep, do you see the other person as a person or as an idea you do not agree with? If you can see past the ideology to the human being, then you will respond as Pvt. Grine did, helping the injured enemy. If you see only the ideology, well… what then? Do you want to crush the other person (by word, action, or law)? Think about what your answer says about how you truly see the other person.

One final thought. The gut reaction you felt—are you spreading this reaction (good or bad) to friends and loved ones? Think especially about your children. How you react to opposing viewpoints will impact how your children learn to view others. Talk to them about what they feel towards people who are “the other side” to them. And remember, yours is not the only voice that shapes them, and shaping the next generation is shaping the future. Dig deep, so you know what your child really believes.

There will always be other people whose viewpoints “drive us crazy,” but the important thing is to be aware of when we cross the line into seeing only the ideology and not the human being. That is when we lose the heart of Pvt. Grine and start down the slippery slope to becoming the SS.

Who would you rather be?