"December 7th, 1941. Just a normal Sunday," my mother recalls. "Until Dad came home and said "better oil up your guns boys, the Japanese just bombed Pearl Harbor". He had heard it on his car radio."

He might have heard something like this...

...and if he changed channels after that sudden interruption, maybe this:

He was too old to go to war himself, but that hadn't always been the case. "Dad had been in France just 23 years before, and he knew what war meant."

That's an understatement - he'd been a medic with the 307th Field Hospital, part of the 77th Division in France in 1918. They'd fought on the Argonne end of the American line in the battle of Meuse-Argonne. While his focus had been some of the nearly 96,000 wounded, to this day no single American battle has exceeded its 26,277 dead.

If on hearing that broadcast so many years later he remembered their faces, it couldn't have been long before they were replaced with thoughts of his own four military age boys. No doubt he shared more detailed advice with them later, but that day it was brief and simple - echoed elsewhere from veteran fathers to their sons: the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, better oil up your guns.

Don't mistake that for enthusiasm. "I was a 12 year old girl and had never heard of Pearl Harbor and could not understand how that would affect us." His daughter recalls now. "But soon learned while listening to the solemn conversation that followed."

A little over sixty years later she'd have a son going off to Iraq - twice. On that first tour she sent a small Christmas tree over... but I'd asked her just yesterday what it was like, to be that 12-year-old little sister that Christmas season near the end of the Great Depression. To be part of a coal miner's family whose sons were (somehow) off to college - or planning it (the oldest had already completed his degree) but were now changing plans. "Oh, I can't remember what I had for breakfast," she claims - and like having breakfast, her big brothers just did things that were typical of the day. The oldest had an essential war time job - but left it anyway. The second left college and became a bomber pilot. The third completed high school that year, but his mother had to accept his diploma on his behalf. The fourth would have to wait for '44...

"Dad and Mom had five sons ages 21, 20, 17, 15, and 7. So, yes, they knew what was ahead for their four oldest sons that day in December. The two oldest enlisted right away and the other two followed as soon as they turned 18."

"Tell me a story," I asked my mom yesterday... I'd expected an account of the world-that-was through the eyes of an innocent. What I got - what she said without saying - was a reminder that those of a certain generation (rightly called the greatest) don't much use the word "me."

"I remember how they worried," she says of her mother and father, "and how they never missed a news broadcast during the entire war..."

(Originally published: 2011-12-07 12:42:00)

Comments (if any):

Sunday, October 20, 1861: Nothing but ten miles of road separated the men of Colonel Nathan Evan's Brigade, Confederate States Army, from Brigadier General George McCall's Division of Union troops to their east. Even closer to hand was Brigadier General Charles Stone's Division - ten thousand or so more Yankees, just across the Potomac. All totaled there were six Union infantry brigades in the vicinity of one Confederate; to call the situation confronting the southerners a tight spot would be an understatement. From all indications battle was imminent, and barring some miracle its outcome predictable. "General Evans and Colonel Featherstone both gave us a short speech," Private Robert Augustus Moore of the 17th Mississippi noted in his diary that day (Evans' subordinates had promoted him one rank; rumor had it his superiors might, too), adding "The General said if we died here he would die with us."

Commanders didn't always deliver on promises, regardless of their rank - but it seemed likely Evans would fulfill that one.

Three days earlier Moore had scratched out "camp west of Leesburg" at the top of his diary entry for October 17th and replaced it with "on Goose Creek." They'd been awakened at 3 AM that day "by the beating of the long roll," he wrote. But it wasn't a call to battle. After weeks of facing off against the Yankees across the river - mostly monotony broken by occasional skirmishes - it was time to move elsewhere. Fortified with a bread and water breakfast they began their march, though "we did not know whither we were going until we arrived at this camp."

"Some" in that case were almost right. Moore's diary entry for the following day, however, was made from the same location. The widow Carter's mill on Goose Creek was about an eight mile walk south of Leesburg, though closer to five miles as the crow flies. Or as the cannonball doesn't - Stone's long-range artillery pieces on the Maryland shore were a factor in selecting this new location.

On the other hand touring historic Virginia was not, but some of the Mississippi troops took the opportunity to do so.

It was a hands-on interactive display. "Rocked in his old chair," Moore reported - adding that they left with some souvenirs of the former president, deceased three decades before: "several books a few piano keys and string."

Their history tour was not yet completed; "some" mistimed the effort but they indeed had more marching to do. Moore's diary entry the next day was made from "camp near ex-Mayor Swans" - an estate north of Leesburg owned by Thomas Swann. They reached it at the end of a longer march than the last (though "some" were right again; it mostly was a repeat of the last - in the opposite direction - which did little to sooth the souls of any soldiers desiring reason in their lives) but as a camp site it would prove especially gratifying to the most staunch Confederate hearts. Its owner was not present; after completing his term as Mayor of Baltimore the year before, Swann had declared himself a Union man and declined to return to his stately Virginia home.

"This looks to be a very fine camping place," Moore noted (though he'd only seen it in the dark of night) - but other than that, things were not going well.

"Some of the boys are a little mad," he added.

That was late on Saturday, the 19th. Moore and his fellow soldiers wouldn't see their camp site in daylight the next day either; before dawn they upped and moved again, abandoning the opulent grounds of the Swann estate for "camp in the bushes on Goose creek."

Whether believed or not, if the courier's information was accurate McCall had left three of his available infantry regiments behind when he'd moved his division's three brigades westward from Langley - but as Evans' Brigade consisted of just four infantry regiments, assorted cavalry and a few pieces of artillery the force now located just down the road a bit was overwhelming even so.

Or at least potentially overwhelming - as events (or lack thereof) would mandate the qualifier be used. Moore didn't know it, but the courier's information had also revealed that McCall's troops were not bound for Leesburg, would not even be remaining in place, but instead would return to Langley the following day. Still, the events of Sunday, 20 October 1861 were auspicious enough for Moore to make multiple entries in his diary throughout the day, eventually dedicating three of his pages to recording them - perhaps anticipating his life story was near finished, his remaining pages unneeded and destined to stay eternally blank.

Later in the day, however, Stone's troops crossed the Potomac. But for whatever reason, they returned to their side of the river before Evans' boys could give them a proper welcome.

"We all thought we were going into a battle when we were going down to the Ferry," he concluded. "The boys all tore up their letters this evening thinking they were going into battle. I laughed at them."

They likely didn't join in his laughter - but their precautions would seem less humorous soon enough. The 17th Mississippi had been at Manassas for the big battle last July 21st ("It was the largest battle ever fought on the American continent," Moore wrote that day) - on the field if not in the thick of the fight. They had a better idea than most - and certainly than the men of Stone's Division they would soon confront - of what being in battle was like. Though he saw no need to enter a new date (the passing of midnight being less a requirement for acknowledging such than his as-yet unclaimed few hours sleep), Moore completed his October 20th entry on the 21st, exactly three months to the day from Manassas, in the pre-dawn darkness of what would indeed be the day of his second battle, another day that would require multiple pages of his diary to record.

He was ready for it. But even if he'd gained a few strands of historically significant piano string on the way, whatever yearning he might once have felt for the glories of war was fading, right along with the leaves on the trees and the first calendar year of the war. Previously - from in camp west of Leesburg, late in a day not long before - he'd expressed a desire in the pages of his diary that summed up his then-current thoughts on the whole great adventure:

"I wish the Yankees would quit troubling us."

But they would not. Rather soon some would cross the Potomac again. This time they'd meet Private Robert Moore and his fellow soldiers, tired and sore and hungry and sleep-deprived and more than a little fed up with their situation, and - complaints about food and rain and mud and their officers (most of whom they'd elected as such in the first place) aside - ready to vent their frustrations most violently on those they believed more responsible for their woes.

(More to follow...)

Sources/notes:

Diary of Robert Augustus Moore, volume one.

James Monroe's house: Moore's reference is to Oak Hill, located just south of Carter's Mill, though his visit seems to have been to a house nearby where some of Monroe's property was stored. "His residence is but a quarter mile distant from the old house," Moore wrote, adding that he wished he could visit it, "but do not know who owns it."

Piano wire, it should be noted, would be highly useful to a soldier, much as 550 cord is today.

Comments (if any):

Touched with fire

One: Lieutenant Holmes believed himself a dying man...

Two: Charles Carleton Coffin rode into camp in the immediate aftermath of a battle lost, when visible evidence of the disaster included corpses laid out in line awaiting burial, and the memory of their first defeat at the hands of Johnny Reb was still fresh in the minds of the young men who'd fought it.

Three: "...Lt Putnam is dead Capt. Putnam lost his right arm. Hallowell fought like a brick but wasn't hurt Schmidt badly wounded Lowell wounded Colonel Major & Adjutant probably prisoners Babo & Wesselhoeft probably dead Dreher shot through the head Serg Merchant shot dead (in the head) From a third to a half of our company killed wounded & prisoners..."

Hours of Darkness

One: Major Paul Joseph Revere found himself a prisoner. Captured - along with several hundred of his fellow Union soldiers - by the secessionists (no true son of Massachusetts would call them "rebels" then) in his first battle; his war was seemingly over almost before it had begun. His grandfather had been in a similar fix decades before...

Two: 18 April, 1775: Two men stood in the moonlit darkness on the shore of the Charles River, gazing across the water towards Boston, their eyes searching for a boat... 21 October, 1861: Two men stood in the pre-dawn darkness on the Virginia side of the Potomac, their eyes turned back across the water, looking for boats. Today there could be battle... 18 April, 1775: Tomorrow there could be battle...

Julia Cutler's Journal: ...Confederate armies didn't march into Ohio, but early in May the war took a different route to her back yard - her nephew wrote of his intention to serve. "Lucy has just received a letter from her brother Rufus in Wisconsin," Julia recorded. "He has raised a company of seventy-eight men and received every vote for captain."

The Long Roll

One: ...But exchanging bullets and blood for real estate was not the only way to win or lose a war, and now Morse was confronted with something that, while potentially explosive, was a situation no tactics manual addressed. He was entertaining a visitor that day, a local slave owner who'd come on an unpleasant task...

Two: ...However, Dawes concluded, "Lieut. Kellogg was of quick blood and it was not always safe to congratulate him as the only man wounded in the Battle of Patterson Park."

Three: Clarissa, along with those other residents of Washington D.C. whose sympathies didn't lie with the South, was glad to hear the first regiments of troops called for by President Lincoln had arrived.

Four: After hearing musket fire all day the men of the 19th Massachusetts were finally going to war...

Five: Perhaps he was too small to be seen - perhaps he was an unremarkable sight, or perhaps the bloody corpse carried on a stretcher he was accompanying drew the full attention of the men going the opposite way - toward the battle. Whatever the case, when John Adams wrote of his experience at Ball's Bluff he didn't mention Ithiel Johnson of Oxford, Massachusetts.

Six: The drum sounded the long roll. It was just a drill - but the men stopped what they were otherwise doing and hurried into formation.

Seven: As Colonel Augustus Morse waited with his esteemed guest, the Honorable Thomas Holliday Hicks, Governor of Maryland, he took the opportunity to thank him once again for his efforts on behalf of the regiment. That very day an expedition was departing Annapolis for Hampton Roads, thence to South Carolina (though destination officially unknown) for purpose accurately supposed to be actual battle. Morse's 21st Massachusetts had been selected to go, too...

A Slight Demonstration

One: "Look lively, boys," someone called out, "we're about to get a visit from the rightful King o' France."

Two: The men of the 15th Massachusetts could proudly claim their regiment had the finest band in their division of the Army of the Potomac.

Three: Major General George Brinton McClellan commanded the largest military force assembled in modern history. Approaching 150,000 men strong (with additional regiments still arriving) he had at his disposal in the area around Washington DC an army that outnumbered Napoleon's and Wellington's at Waterloo combined.

(Scraps)

Four: The Honorable Francis Boardman Crowninshield of Boston arrived in London after transiting from New York to Liverpool via the steamer Persia...

Five: Colonel Eppa Hunton was a Virginian, sir. One who would cut a dashing figure in the uniform of the Confederacy, mounted or on foot, leading fellow Virginians into battle. At this moment, however, he was bedridden...

Six: "Rebel Accounts of the Leesburgh Affair" read the headline in the New York Times. It had taken a few days for the news to travel from behind enemy lines, but New Yorkers could now read the story as presented in the October 29th issue of the Richmond (Virginia) Examiner.

Seven: "What do you think I received as a present yesterday?" He'd written his wife Ellen (Nell, he called her) the previous week. "Some poor woman away up in the middle of New York sent me half a dozen pair of woollen socks..."

(Scraps 2)

Eight: Lieutenant Henry Livermore Abbott was writing an urgent letter home from camp. One of his previous messages had not been received in the manner intended - or rather, had gone beyond its author's intent.

(Scraps 3)

Nine: Hard times were upon them. "John Brown, on the day of his capture, prophesied the destruction of Harper's Ferry, to take place in a short time," Barry claimed - and whether the fiery abolitionist had made such a prophesy or not, no one could deny it had come to pass.

Ten: McClellan had written his wife the previous day of his intent to frighten the rebels away from Leesburg, but to have any hope of actually doing so he'd have to let Stone in on the plan, too, and thus far he hadn't done that...

"Message from General McClellan, sir." Stone accepted the paper, once again pondering briefly his good fortune to be in such close communication with headquarters via telegraph.

News From Stone's: "The Ball Bluff affair is pregnant with trouble," reported the New York Times "special correspondent" on the scene, "and Courts-martial innumerable may be discerned in the distance."

Roads to Leesburg

One: Robert Augustus Moore knew where the Confederate soldiers were. But as he was one that wasn't surprising.

Two: The legend of Captain Henry Alden began to grow immediately after his death at Ball's Bluff.

Three: John White Geary began a letter to his wife. Following his heartfelt appreciation of news of her continued health and well being -and assurances that he himself was "never better" ("God has blessed me with an excellent constitution," the six-six, 240-pound colonel wrote) - he offered a mild complaint:

The Voyage of the Enchantress: Jacob Garrick's adventure had begun in early July, when the schooner Enchantress set sail. Little did the ship's cook expect he'd serve three crews before returning to port.

Thanksgiving on the Potomac: "The month which followed the battle of Ball's Bluff ... was a period of much discussion concerning the events and conduct of the battle. Each one had his own story to tell, his own inquiries to make. It was clearly realized that the sacrifice had been needless and that some one had blundered. Was it General McClellan? Was it General Stone? Was it Colonel Baker? Was it Colonel Cogswell? It was a period of many visitors from the North, who came to find out the condition of the men of the different companies, in order that they might report to their friends at home... But we could not get along without Thanksgiving in some shape; and considering our circumstances, the celebration came very nearly up to the Puritan standard... There was one feature of the day that I take especial pride in mentioning, as indicating the material of which the regiment is composed. It is that not a man was intoxicated during the whole day."

Four: From all indications battle was imminent, and barring some miracle its outcome predictable. "General Evans and Colonel Featherstone both gave us a short speech," Private Robert Augustus Moore of the 17th Mississippi noted in his diary that day... "The General said if we died here he would die with us." Commanders didn't always deliver on promises... but it seemed likely Evans would fulfill that one.

(More to follow...)

Comments (if any):

Mudville, November, 2008:

Thanksgiving in America, and in Iraq the Parliament approved the Status of Forces Agreement. The news was scarcely noted on our shores as coverage of our national day of plenty gave way to that of the busiest shopping day of the year...
<...>
All United States combat Forces shall withdraw from Iraqi cities, villages, and localities ... no later than June 30, 2009.... And the total withdrawal (also Article 24) must indeed be accomplished "no later than December 31, 2011"

Through a coincidence of timing, it was President Bush's last Thanksgiving gift to the troops - one that was unwrapped for Thanksgiving this year.

Soldiers line up outside the dining facility for a Thanksgiving meal on its last day open on Contingency Operating Base Adder, Nov. 20. (Photo by Spc. Anthony Zane)

AFP:

US soldiers have gathered for an early Thanksgiving dinner due to an impending switch to field rations at a base near Baghdad, saying they are glad they will soon be going home.

The official Thanksgiving holiday in the United States is later this week, but the last "dining facility", or DFAC, at the sprawling Victory Base Complex (VBC) on Baghdad's outskirts closed on Sunday, as US forces prepare to depart.
<...>
"We're going to do the Thanksgiving meal here today instead of on Thursday, because we're closing out," said 38-year-old Staff Sergeant Christopher Quimbly, the DFAC manager.

"Today on the menu, we have crab legs, turkey, ham, dressing, yams, green beans, rolls, corn bread, mashed potatoes, (and) a variety of deserts," he said.

"Over 2000 pounds (almost 900 kg) of turkey, over 2000 pounds of ham" and "probably about 3000 pounds of mashed potatoes" are being served, he said.

But starting with dinner on Sunday, soldiers will have to make do with bagged field rations, Quimbly said.

President Obama didn't forget the troops this year:

President Obama reads a Thanksgiving message over the phone to a deployed troop

Sgt. Cynthia Filip, a signal support specialist with Company E, 1st Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team "Black Jack," 1st Cavalry Division, speaks on the phone with President Barack Obama, Nov. 24. The president thanked Filip for her military service and sacrifice to the U.S. Filip is currently deployed to Camp Buehring, Kuwait. (Photo by Sgt. Quentin Johnson)

With that, we'll take a look back at Thanksgivings past in Iraq.

From 2009:

And one from Mrs Greyhawk (and Russ Vaughn) in 2004 (one of my Thanksgivings in Baghdad...):

As always, this year and every year, near and far, wherever your travels take you - we're wishing a Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours.

Comments (if any):

"There was one feature of the day that I take especial pride in mentioning, as indicating the material of which the regiment is composed. It is that not a man was intoxicated during the whole day. What other regiment of eight hundred men, with pockets full of money, and plenty of whiskey within reach, can boast of so much self-respect and regard for their officers as not to yield in a single instance?"

Thanksgiving on the Potomac, November, 1861:

The month which followed the battle of Ball's Bluff was a period of hard work for the survivors of that contest. The wounded demanded care. The knapsacks of the missing had to be examined and the property of the government accounted for. The duties of the absent devolved upon those who were present. The lack of officers, both commissioned and non-commissioned, was most seriously felt. Lance sergeants and corporals were appointed to fill vacancies, but the few line officers on duty were obliged to do, as far as it was possible, the work of the whole number. It was a period of much discussion concerning the events and conduct of the battle. Each one had his own story to tell, his own inquiries to make. It was clearly realized that the sacrifice had been needless and that some one had blundered. Was it General McClellan? Was it General Stone? Was it Colonel Baker? Was it Colonel Cogswell? It was a period of many visitors from the North, who came to find out the condition of the men of the different companies, in order that they might report to their friends at home. Many and long were the letters written and messages sent by those who had escaped from the battle. It was a period of great inconvenience and sometimes of considerable suffering from the loss of personal effects, especially of clothing. E. J. Russell writes: "Every plate, cup, knife and fork which the boys took with them was lost, and the quartermaster has been unable to get them any more. Blankets are short, also. While I am writing it rains, and the wind blows from the northeast like a hurricane, and some of the tents have blown down. Such times as this make me a little homesick -- a cold rain and no fire. Some of the folks who stay at home, when they ought to be at the front, would think it rather tough to get up in the morning when it rains in torrents, cold, northeast wind, mud six inches deep, impossible to make a fire outdoors, no hot coffee or tea, hard bread, teeth worn down to the gums, overcoat wet, everybody cross, perhaps the order comes to turn out for some inspection, get your gun wet, take three hours to clean it up, go on guard, no sleep for twenty-four hours. See what it is to serve your country." An appeal from Colonel Devens for relief was promptly answered by the various towns of Worcester County, and through boxes sent from home in addition to the stores the government provided, by the middle of November the men had "everything they needed."

A letter of Lieutenant Derby's gives us an account of Thanksgiving Day (November 21) in camp: " The past week, although undisturbed by any warlike movement, has been one of considerable animation in 'Camp Foster.' On Monday evening Colonel Devens returned from a fortnight's furlough spent in Washington and Massachusetts. The gratified eagerness with which the word was passed that 'the Colonel had got back,' even without his own confession, proves that this is in reality his home. One of the fruits of his labors while absent is before us already -- four hundred good rifles, to take the place of our miserable smooth-bores.

"Tuesday evening brought another welcome arrival, the paymaster, with brass-bound chests, little but weighty. A number of the wounded, who had been waiting for their two months' wages, were immediately paid off, and next morning set out, a happy party, for their homes in Massachusetts. Their furloughs range from two to six weeks; and as the four wagon loads rattled off toward Adamstown, many a man regretted that he too did not get a bullet, so that he could spend Thanksgiving at the homestead. But we could not get along without Thanksgiving in some shape; and considering our circumstances, the celebration came very nearly up to the Puritan standard. Colonel Devens manifested his fatherly interest in the happiness of his men by presenting them fifty dollars toward buying a good dinner, and the all-important roast turkey was not wanting. There was one feature of the day that I take especial pride in mentioning, as indicating the material of which the regiment is composed. It is that not a man was intoxicated during the whole day. What other regiment of eight hundred men, with pockets full of money, and plenty of whiskey within reach, can boast of so much self-respect and regard for their officers as not to yield in a single instance? You can depend on such men everywhere. We have enjoyed another week of Indian summer, which ended last night, with heavy rain."

E. J. Russell, who was on picket duty Thanksgiving day -- for the picket line along the Potomac had been renewed shortly after the battle -- wrote: "We are quartered in a barn without any roof, in which we have a fire and are allowed to cook our own tea and coffee, and so long as it is fair weather we are all right. Some are building thatched shanties to keep off the rain. To-day is fair and tolerably warm, so we are going to have a Thanksgiving in earnest. Just this minute they have shot two pigs. We are going to have roast pig for dinner and they are getting up a hard-bread plum pudding."

The story continues here.

Source: Andrew Elmer Ford, The Story of the Fifteenth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry in the Civil War, 1861-1864, (1898).

(For more, see The story thus far.)

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