unforth | Walkabout, Day 5

It's dawning on me just what an important role the weather is playing in this trip. Today, after two lovely days, I got one of the nasty patches all over the country, with the result that it was in the low forties with intermitten rain. Needless to say, this cast a pall over all of my activities, because I could never actually be sure when the rain would start to fall, though it seemed to have knack for starting just as I reached a point where I would have wanted to walk. Even so, I tried to make the most of it. I left my Econolodge relatively late, having taken time in the morning to finish uploading the pictures from the first three days (still unlabeled, but at least they're up - I'm trying to get up the pics from April 4th now, but it's going slow...) and so I arrived at the Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park at almost exactly 10 AM. This was problematic, because I wanted to be in Shiloh by 7 PM in order to be ready to watch the baseball game (opening night!) and it was going to be a four to five hour drive from the battlefield to Shiloh - so I aimed to be done at 2, though this meant some sacrifices. Ultimately, though, it worked out - due to perhaps a lack of lunch, my spirits and energy flagged big time, and I was all too happy to leave when the time came, which was saddening in a way, but I did manage to get through the whole battlefield, I just lost my zeal for photographing monuments by the end. ;)

I said yesterday that I hardly knew anything about the battle, and that was completely true. Having now read all about it, and wandered the battlefield, and listened to an audio tour, I'm now able to give a short account. In late summer of 1864, Gen. Rosecrans (Union) advanced through the mountains of southeastern Tennessee and managed to take Gen. Bragg (Confederate) at Chattanooga so completely by surprise that he retreated without a fight. In the days that followed, Bragg decided on a strategy to annihilate the Union army, who had left the city (I'm not quite clear on why) and were moving down south into Georgia (the battlefield is in Georgia). Unfortunately, Bragg's strategy didn't quite work - he attacked more of the Union army than he intended too - but the odds were still (for once) in his favor, and the result was a two day battle around the Chickamauga (creek? river?) - which according to legend meant "River of Death" in some Native American tongue or other.

The battle was hard fought, the worse because pretty much the entire countryside was littered with trees and dense underbrush which meant that at many times fighting was very close quarters, vaguely guerrilla style, and there was a high incidence of friendly fire, and also at least one general shot dead when he tried to rally the othersides' troops. On the second day, the lines had settled in and Bragg planned a two prong attack, concentrating simultaneously on the northern and southern flanks of the Union army. The southern attack started on time but didn't immediately lead to success; meanwhile, the northern attack was delayed by four hours, by which time the position was greatly strengthened; the Union, general on that part of the field, Thomas, ultimately earned himself the nickname "The Rock of Chicakmauga" because of his defense of this and later positions. This part of the line held - which couldn't be said for the other end. Rosecrans received word that a hole had opened up in his line, so he sent orders to plug to hole - only there was no hole. That is, until his orders were followed; then there was a quarter mile hole right in the middle of his line. Confederate troops stormed in and the entire right flank of the Union army collapsed and fell back to Chattanooga. Thomas held first the position he was in, and later a hill called "Snodgrass Hill" or some such until night fall against repeated Confederate attacks, even after his men had run out ammunition completely and were forced to fight with rifle butts, bayonets, or fists. After dark, he beat a tactical retreat....and that was the battle. Casualties, like at so many of these battles, were astronomical - according to Wiki, Union casualties, out of 60,000, were over 16,000; Confederate casualties 18,000 out of 65,000, or over 27% of the men on the field. I know I've talked about this in other posts, so just to make the point of high incredibly high these numbers are, estimates for the casualties at D-Day are roughly 10,000 out of 156,000 for the Allies, or just over 6%; casualty rates over 10% are (as far as I know) very uncommon in 20th century wars - with the notable exceptions of battles in the Pacific front, where vast numbers of Japanese soldiers committed unnecessary suicide attacks that drove their casualty rates sky high.

Right. So I hardly knew any of this, which made the welcome center particular useful, because though the film wasn't working, they had a very nice light up map which, in 7 minutes, described with pretty moving battle lines the ebb and flow of things. Meanwhile, the signs gave adequate time to laugh at what an idiot Bragg could be, which I'm given to understand is a favorite sport with both Union and Confederate sympathizers alike.

I've Confederate sympathizers on the mind. The battlefield is almost as covered in monuments as Gettysburg, testament to the fact that this was battle was, for the Union Army of the Cumberland and the Confederate Army of Tennessee, roughly equivalent in glory bestowed as Gettysburg was to the Army of Northern Virginia and the Army of the Potomac. There's very little overlap between the forces that fought these two battles (with the notable exception of Longstreet's core, which was brought down from Virginia for this battle). Most of the soldiers were from Indiana, Ohio, Wisconsin, Illinois; and Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, and of course Georgia - very different from those that fought in the east coast battles. Anyway, Confederates were on my mind for two reasons: one, I got confirmation of something I'd suspected - that a battle held in a Southern state would have a much greater representation of monuments to southern units, which it definitely did - especially Georgia units, there was pretty much a plaque for every one.

Second is an idea that's still forming. Chickamauga has a serious problem that none of the other battlefields I've visited have had on anything like this scope: vandalism. A shockingly high number of the monuments are missing bits of brass ornamentation, lost to vandals or treasure hunters, and there was a display in the museum discussing the vandalism that has been done - and the effects were very evident on at least two monuments I saw, one of which the rifle had been smashed out a relief, and the other a statue of a general who was missing both of his hands. Uniformly, all of the vandalism I saw had been done to northern monuments. And it really made me wonder, about Confederate sympathizers, about who was doing the vandalism, and why, and what did it accomplish? I'd never seen any sign of vandalism on southern monuments erected on the battlefields in the east - but then, even in Virginia they're really not all that bitter about things as far as I've been able to tell. Maybe, out here, things are different? Or maybe that's not it at all, and it's just that more of the northern monuments were ripe targets? I suppose there's no way to find out - though I'm trying to remember if it's a topic touched on in Confederates in the Attic (a very interesting book...).

I would have liked to have walked more of this battlefield. The areas covered in the second day were really not that extensive, and I probably could have walked the whole thing in a little over an hour, but the threat of rain was constant, and as a result, I only got to walk in fits and starts - though I managed probably close to a mile, in and around the place where Rosecrans had opened a gap in his line by accident, and that in the stunning kind of sunlight peaking through clouds that offered a strange contrast - the promise of the nicer weather that wasn't to be.

I tried further experiments with the dog, too, with mostly positive results continuing.

Beyond that, though, I was partially surprised that, because I knew so little about the battle going in, I found this less interesting. I guess that makes sense, but I had hoped that what I would learn about the battle would foster interest. I guess the problem is that I've never really been that interested in the Army of the Cumberland in general, Rosecrans from what I've read has seemed like a tight ass pain in the butt, and there was nothing to grab my interest - though now that I've learned a bit about Thomas, I want to learn more, because anyone who can do what he did is worthy of respect in my book. Certainly, my sudden and inexplicably loss of energy (okay, I hadn't eaten since about 8:30...so maybe it is explicable) was frustrating - but I've taken steps to remedy it, by buying a bunch of water to support tomorrows explorations, which I have reason to think will take place in similarly mediocre weather.

My other adventure of the day certainly concerned baseball. I began to grow concerned that there was a chance it was a day game, and finally at 2:30 I checked...and discovered that it was already the third inning, no runs on either side (Mets v. Cinci.) After despairing for a little bit, I realized that I could get play by play updates on my cell phone, and from that time forward I had it auto refresh every 30 seconds and I "watched" the game. I had thought this would be totally lame, but actually it was pretty intense in a strange way, especially when the Mets scored their first run on a Daniel Murphy home run just as I was paying for the water at a gas station - the lady looked at me like a lunatic when I was gave a decided "YES!" and I apologetically explained (she couldn't have cared less about the explanation). At another point, one out, bases loaded, I switched to the pitch-by-pitch updating and waited, eyes flicking the screen constantly to see if it had refreshed, to see if we'd be able to make it good, all the while muttering, "come on Murphy, hit another home run...you can do it, Wright!"

I say eyes flicked because, of course, I was driving - mostly very fast, since I speed compulsively and the speed limit in TN is generally 70. I think this was probably the worst idea I've had in a while, but I couldn't make myself stop. When did I become so much of a fan that I'd imperil life and limb for one measly game? It wasn't like my paying attention had any impact what so ever on the result (we won) and it would have been the same baseball game had I waited until I was safely in a hotel for the evening and looked up the results then. So what is it that makes watching it live so necessary? I really don't have a clue.

Last year, right around now, I made an arbitrary decision. I've been a Mets fan my whole life, but it had always been very casual. Aside from 1999, which was a great season, I'd hardly watched any games, and usually my fandom consisted of asking my dad how we were doing this year (usually piss poor). But last year, after hearing about opening day, I figured it'd be fun to watch some baseball, and if I didn't enjoy it, I could always stop. And the result was that a semi-fanatical fan was born - I hardly missed a single game all summer, except those that took place while I was in Europe (which worked out, because I missed the majority of our slump, and tuned in just when things turned around, on the second win of what turned out to be a ten game (or something like that) winning streak in early July.) It was to the point that when I went to a live game with my dad in August, I was successfully able to predict which reliever was going to be sent out. And I had a blast.

What I don't understand, really is why. I mean, I don't mind - I'm certainly not questioning it, or fighting it - it's a harmless diversion, and so if I enjoy it I see no reason not to entertain it - but that doesn't explain where this mania came from. Perhaps it's been waiting, nascent, all this time for me to finally actually start watching baseball? I think part of it is that I find baseball games restful. They're low key enough that I can easily do something else while it's on, and a good game is engaging enough to be distracting. The people involved are generally compelling (and these years team is pretty much like last years team, except with much better pitching) and you get to know them over time. (I'll admit I grew more fond of David Wright when I found out he was born on the same day and year as I...). And a good game is a thing of beauty. Take today: it was a test of everything we've been looking forward to; we have one of the best pitchers in the game today (Johan Santana), but last year he was let down repeatedly by the relief pitching. Today he opened our first game, and it was a close one - 2/1 Mets leading when Santana was pulled out. And Manuel pulled our shiny new bullpen, and Mets fans collectively held their breadth...and all three relievers came through.

And man, it felt great!

So maybe that's why I'm a fan - because of that feeling when it goes right. Those moments, you don't forget them - I'm never going to forget the second to last game of our season last year, because it was amazing.

Of course, you have to live with the other side of this coin, too - the last game of our season, when it all came crashing down.

...

Right, I'm gonna stop babbling about things no one at all cares about. ;)

It was a long drive to Savannah, TN. It felt long, too, which is never pleasant (at least, it felt long once the game ended). However, I did gain an hour, in that I crossed into a different time zone, and as such I'm going to make a token effort to adapt lest I wake up absurdly early tomorrow morning. After driving through lots of places best described as the middle of nowhere, I arrived, still in the middle of nowhere, to find that there really wasn't much here. I drove all the way to the battlefield trying to find a place to stay, only to discover it had been completely pointless and I went back to town. Only one motel took dogs, but it seems like a pleasant enough place - and look, it has internet! - and I'm really looking forward tomorrow. It will be the first battlefield I've ever visited where my favorite Civil War general fought.

I do not know why William Tecumseh Sherman is my favorite general. I have a few guesses, and I've settled on the most likely, but I don't really know. The primary reason, I think, is that he was the first general I ever heard of. Before I knew who Grant or Lee were, I knew who W.T. Sherman was, thanks to a sign emblazoned next to the door of a building I had to go to every day. This building was, of course, my elementary school; I was 4 years old when I started attending PS 87, also known as the William T. Sherman school. Of course, I don't remember being told who this person was, nor could I read, but I walked past that sign every day, and given what a Civil War buff my dad was, I feel convinced that someone must have explained it to me. As a teenager, I didn't question this fandom (ha, more fandom talk...) and, watching Burns' documentary and learning more about the Civil War, I embraced my hero. He was red-headed, just like my first crush (which was on a fictional character, a very red-headed one...) and he was a great and important general, and best friends with the best general at all (because obviously, because Grant had lead the north to victory, he must be the best general) - this was why I liked and still like Longstreet, who I think is neat despite being a Confederate, because he was friends with Grant...

As an adult, I've found this much more difficult to reconcile. I think that they were both excellent generals in a modern sense, but that's a problematic statement. Grant is a butcher; his usual way of feeling out an enemy position was to throw troops at it and see what happened. Sherman embraced the whole sale destruction of a 60-mile wide path through the heart of the south - and while sources about the Civil War NEVER talk about such things in my experience, I very much fear what befell the ladies who were encountered along the way by his troops, who he couldn't have checked if he wanted to, but I can't pretend he tried very hard. These men were the generals that the north needed to win the war, but I can't say that I like their methods, if only because both lacked finesse. But then, with Civil War weaponry, the age of finesse was coming to an end...or was it? Lee worked with finesse and it held him in good stead for years before the superiority of northern manpower overwhelmed it...

And yet I'm still a fan of Sherman, and I still read passages describing his activities most avidly of all of those that I read. And then, a couple of days ago, I had a moment of insight that perhaps got me one step closer: Sherman is Sirius Black to Grant's James Potter. Sherman is the incredibly loyal best friend! It makes so much sense. And of course, I LOVE Sirius Black.

...which just lead to another problem. So why the heck do I love Black? He's a very problematic character, too; I've been known to theorize that he should have been sorted into Slytherin.

So, in a way, I've made no progress; but in a different way, I have, because I feel it teaches us something about ourselves to identify the archetypes that are appealing. Thanks to roleplaying, I know that I'm very fond of idealists and martyrs (at least as my personal choices of types of characters to RP) - and that told me something about myself, and I consider it a valuable lesson and one I use to keep track of my own behavior and help me make good choices. I don't yet know what the identification of the "loyal do-wronger/righter" is going to mean, but at least now I know to keep my eyes open...
Well, that's all for another day. I have the bad, bad feeling I'm going to wake up ludicrously early tomorrow (or rather, at my usual time, except I'm now in a different time zone, and 6 AM seems much earlier than 7 AM) and I expect to be able to use that time to finally get some photos integrated into the early posts. I'll write a quick note to that effect if I get it done. (I know I keep talking about it and not doing it...)

Edit: Looking up info on the National Park site, I've just discovered what I feel dumb for not learning sooner: today, tomorrow and the day after are actually the 147th anniversary of the battle at Shiloh! This is being commemorated with a whole bunch of...guided hikes! Unfortunately, all the ones that would have interested me were today - and I could have made it by switching my itinerary around, if only I'd known. Oh well...it's still neat. :) And there's one tomorrow I might try for, I like the sound of "difficult, passing through woods off-trail, and across deep ravines."