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| 1 | Direct contact with veterans of the Civil War is hard to come by, these days, and to exploit my two contacts with the war, I have to go back to childhood memories when we lived in Redlands, California. At church one Sunday morning, my father directed my attention to a tall elderly man who was clinging to the arm of a younger guide. His snow-white beard reached down across his chest, and his eyes were hidden by the dark brown glasses through which no light could go. |
| 2 | “He’s blind, now,” my father said, “but when he was in his early twenties, he was one of the engineers on one of the steam trains that carried Lincoln’s body back to Illinois. At each division point of the railway, they let the train crew come through the car where Lincoln’s body lay before the crew took the train on to the next stop. There’s a man who saw Lincoln.” |
| 3 | (That church was a Methodist Episcopal North--mentioned here to show another effect of the Civil War that lingered on even unto our days.) |
| 4 | When I was in the seventh grade, we rented a home from a Mr. Wyman who, with his wife, lived at the back of the property. He was a veteran of the Civil War, a member of the Grand Army of the Republic who proudly displayed the GAR medal which had been given him after the war. He also had the best and biggest album of Civil War photos I’ve ever seen--far superior to any I saw during the war’s centennial in the 1960s. |
| 5 | Mrs. Wyman told me that she and her children had visited Gettysburg after the war, “And Pa showed us the rock he hid behind during the battle.” |
| 6 | Mr. Wyman exploded. “Hid behind!” he shouted, “I was shootin’ over the top of it at them REBELS!” It is that last word that will be difficult to convey. I had always heard the contending forces referred to as the North, or the South, or as the Union and Confederate Armies, or the Blue and the Gray. But REBELS! He put so much emotion into the way he said it; he said the word the way one would speak of a menacing, fire-breathing dragon that would soon devour us all if he didn’t stop it instantly! There was contempt in the word--contempt for us because we didn’t sense this! There was fright in the word--these rebels had killed his fellow soldiers, had fired on Fort Sumpter to start the war, and would kill us too if he didn’t act! |
| 7 | As our current studies reveal, saving the slaves was not necessarily foremost in the thought of the time. Saving the Union was given greater heed just as the presence of “The Union” atop the state seal of far-distant Oregon shows the mindset of many--and Mr. Wyman--during the Civil War. |
| 8 | Further reminiscing dredged up something else: during World War II, I had served as a lieutenant in the 804th Tank Destroyers in Italy. Among my additional duties was that of serving as a censor of mail. All outgoing mail was held until the censors had passed it. Officer’s mail was held too and had to be read by the officer censor of that day. One of our primary instructions was that at no time could a writer reveal where he was. He could say, “Two days ago I was in Naples.” But he could not say, “I’m writing you from Naples.” |
| 9 | I recall one envelope had an air mail stamp in the upper right corner. On the other three corners of the letter were some free-hand filigree of loops and curves. I held the envelope up against a light bulb and could make out an outline of Italy with a dot just East of where Naples would be. The letter was sent back to the private with a request for a non-filigreed envelope. |
| 10 | Content of letters from the enlisted men was similar to the content of my own. Those at home were informed as to mud, living conditions, Spam, weather, and the desire for mail from home, and thanks for packages received. (A well-meaning cousin had hoped to surprise me with a birthday cake sent in mid-October. I had been re-assigned so many times that the following April I received a battered package of crumbs wrapped in string--but the address label was still intact!) |
| 11 | The above is cited because, after the war ended, (and thanks to the GI bill) my job in radio was waiting for me some four-and-one-half years after I’d left it. During the early 1950s, I was doing a series of broadcasts about the Civil War which one lady enjoyed enough that she sent me a number of letters that had been written by one of her relatives during the Civil War! I couldn’t get over it! One day this bundle of priceless letters showed up just sent by regular mail! |
| 12 | In reading these Civil War letters, I was impressed by their similarity to the letters I had read in Italy during the 1940s. Lonesomeness, boredom, even homesickness appeared in both era’s letters. Requests for news of family members, news of friends encountered by chance meetings, news of those lost in combat--all were letter subjects. |
| 13 | In the Civil War letters, one request was most impressive: “Would you please have a daguerreotype made of the children and then send it to me? That way I can see how they’ve grown and carry that picture with me.” The Civil War seems so long ago, and yet they too had photography that could produce pictures for the same use we have today. |
| 14 | Another thing to note about the Civil War letters was that they all had been written in brown ink. When I talked with my benefactor about this feature, she explained: "They made their own ink. They would pick up the green, outer hulls of English walnuts, mash them, then add water.” |
| 16 | If you’ve ever handled English walnut hulls, you will recall your own seemingly permanently stained fingers and appreciate the ingenuity of our grandparents and great-grandparents during this period of history. |
| 17 | Comparing the foregoing periods of history makes me wonder if the emotions, thoughts and reactions of all who are separated from home and loved ones aren’t very similar. Trauma--by degrees--invades all.
Nominated and Edited by Jan Anderson, Writing Instructor
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