How the Grass Grows at Gettysburg

There was surprisingly little mention of the famed bayonet charge at the Gettysburg National Historic Park. I know because we took a unit morale trip there last week, where Whit Houston snapped some amazing photos.

The new visitors' center-- complete with a museum and film-- is great. It's much bigger than the old one across the street from the Soldiers' National Cemetery. But neither the film nor any of the static displays mentioned the feat of the 20th Maine. I visited the spot, which deserves some explanation.

From Nine Weeks:

The epitome of a close combat weapon is the bayonet. 

“What is the spirit of the bayonet?” 

“To kill! Kill! Kill without mercy!” 

The entire battery was formed on the PT field adjacent to our starship. We had been issued bayonets, which were essentially knives to affix to the end of our rifles. Otherwise, they hung in a holster from our pistol belts, and we only attached them once for practice.

“What makes the green grass grow?” 

“Blood! Blood! Bright red blood!”

Drill Sergeant Martinez followed a script throughout the training, which highlighted the time-honored offensive thrusting, jabbing, and slashing maneuvers with the bayonet. It also contained Army legend about Lawrence Chamberlain, the Union commander of the 20th Maine, who led a bayonet charge on the second day at the battle of Gettysburg in July, 1863.

LTC Chamberlain, who was also a professor, was tasked with holding the high ground on the far left flank of the Union forces that day. His unit, posted at the base of a hill called Little Round Top, was as important as it was tenuous. Manifesting the value of the hill as the stepping stone to the higher hill to its south, Confederate troops fired on Chamberlain’s position relentlessly hoping to gain the high ground where they could place cannon to fire down the Union line with impunity.

As his men ran out of ammunition, Chamberlain made the decision to attack with that most elemental of weapons: the blade. Sounding the order, “Fix, BAYONETS!” he led the charge that successfully drove off the attackers. His heroism, tenacity, and courage could very well have saved the Union that day, for the federal troops held the high ground and forced The Southern generals to make the ill-fated charge at the center of the line that next day, where they met stiff resistance. Gettysburg was the confederate high tide. After the summer of 1863, the Union victories began to mount, and the Confederates’ resources dwindled in the face of continued federal strength. Chamberlain has rightly been lifted to hero-status, and his bayonet charge central to his legacy.

“What is the spirit of the bayonet?”

“To kill! Kill! Kill without mercy!”

Two-hundred of us stood in our positions on the field, in extended lines a dozen rows deep, plunging and swiping our rifles in unison—a perfectly choreographed display of deathly obedience.

“What makes the green grass grow?”

“Blood! Blood! Bright red blood!”

If the spirit of the bayonet was the kill without mercy, I had to ask the question, “Did I have what it took to kill?” Could I abandon all mercy if the moment required? The Army didn’t seem interested in employing men who make moral judgments in the middle of a fight. Rather, it needed soldiers who would destroy the enemies against whom the Army is sworn to defend America—at any cost.

I have plenty to say about making moral judgments, in the case of Operation Enduring Freedom just as much as the U.S. Civil War, but that's for a later time.

Right now, I'm only a little disappointed that the park has almost stricken Chamberlain, who was awarded the Medal of Honor, from its narrative.

Chamberlain went on to become a brigadier general and governor of Maine. But his greatest claim to glory was that he was a teacher who volunteered for service in a time of war.

(Photo by Staff Sgt. Whitney Houston)