About a month ago, my husband and I spent the day together at Gettysburg touring the battlefield and taking in the museum. I anticipated that we would share a mini getaway and get some fresh air, go out to dinner and enjoy the day. That all took place according to plan. What I did not anticipate however was a very emotionally moving encounter with the dramatic story that lies beneath the history in Gettysburg.
This was not my first visit to this hidden gem in our region. We took a school field trip there in elementary school and my family camped nearby and visited the park when I was a kid. We also took our children when they were small one summer during one of the reenactment weekends. For some reason, none of these previous trips impacted me in the same way that this one has. Perhaps I was not paying close enough attention before. I’m not sure, but this time I was deeply touched by the stories of courage, loyalty and sacrifice that confront you everywhere you turn in this town.
There is no way to recount all the details for you here. I can recommend that if you have never been there or perhaps it has been a while you will be glad you went if you get the chance. But there was one theme that I cannot forget and I want to share with you. It’s the compelling image of the color bearers and their unwavering determination to serve with honor in the face of certain defeat and death.
I am borrowing the following from the website www.americancivilwarstory.com. “… The flag was then carried by Private August Ernst, who was instantly killed. Corporal Andrew Wagner then took the colors and carried them until shot through the breast, from the effects of which he died about a year after the close of the war. When Corporal Wagner fell, Colonel Henry A. Morrill took the flag, and gallantly attempted to rally the few survivors of the regiment. But Private William Kelly insisted on carrying it, saying to Colonel Morrill, “You shall not carry the flag while I am alive.” The gallant fellow held it aloft and almost instantly fell, shot through the heart. Private L. Spaulding then took the flag from the hands of Kelly, and carried it until he was himself badly wounded. Colonel Morrill again seized the flag, and was soon after shot in the head and carried from the field….”
This narrative continues and repeats with different names but similar displays of valor. Time and again, soldier after soldier from every background on both sides of the Mason-Dixon Line proved that deep within them would rise a hero ready to die for his country. They grabbed the flag and bore it bravely knowing their future was grim. No turning and running in fear. No passing the buck. No, they claimed their place in history and led the charge to keep their units unified. Long before technology facilitated communication, the flag flying high was the chief means of keeping the ranks together. When the flag fell, the rank and file floundered, hence the dedication to keeping it flying at all costs. The mortality rate among the Civil War color guard was ninety percent, a daunting statistic to say the least.
As I listened to the presentation in the museum and viewed the dramatic recreation in the cyclorama, I could not stop the tears from falling as I digested the magnitude of loss represented by this historic battle. The families that were scarred by this conflict and the legacy they left touched my heart. But those men who carried the flag, one after another, knowing they would most probably die in minutes – they blew me away. I cannot get their story out of my mind. I ask myself, do I carry the banner of leadership with honor and courage like these brave men? Am I aware of those who are following me? Am I willing to lead the charge even when it may cost me a great price? Will I bear the standard and raise it high to lead the way? I pray that I will never forget these inspiring men who raised high the standard. May I lead like them.
