As I have no doubt indirectly indicated here more than once, there is no group of people whom I more genuinely hold in contempt than those who are doing their best to eradicate the sacrifices of the South and erase its history. Typically, these are the uneducated who know nothing of history or warfare, and in their ignorance are unable to comprehend a past unburdened by the certainty of their present. The result was the overreach of the Biden minions, who like the Taliban, saw virtue in attempting to destroy the history of a people.
I was reading a fairly new account of the battle of Petersburg and the subsequent final actions of the Armies of the Potomac and Northern Virginia leading to the surrender at Appomattox. In it was Joshua Chamberlain's description of the event that has been published in many other volumes, and clearly was never on the reading list of any member of the modern democrat party.
Joshua Chamberlain was one of the great Federal heroes of the War Between the States. It was he and his Maine Regiment that held Little Round Top literally to the last round on the evening of the second day at Gettysburg, saving the Union Army from envelopment, and possible defeat. One of his opponents during the battle was John B. Gordon of Georgia who commanded a brigade during the battle. Both were grievously wounded during the war, both survived to return to the battlefield, with both ending the conflict as general officers. Both were at Appomattox where Gordon led the last attack by Confederate troops against Union forces, buying time for the negotiations between Lee and Grant.
Chamberlain was chosen by Grant to receive the actual surrender of the Confederate Army. Gordon was chosen by Lee to lead the Confederate troops in that ceremony. Chamberlain's description follows.
The momentous meaning of this occasion impressed me deeply. I resolved to mark it by some token of recognition, which could be no other than a salute of arms. Well aware of the responsibility assumed, and of the criticisms that would follow, as the sequel proved, nothing of that kind could move me in the least. The act could be defended, if needful, by the suggestion that such a salute was not to the cause for which the flag of the Confederacy stood, but to its going down before the flag of the Union. My main reason, however, was one for which I sought no authority nor asked forgiveness. Before us in proud humiliation stood the embodiment of manhood: men whom neither toils and sufferings, nor the fact of death, nor disaster, nor hopelessness could bend from their resolve; standing before us now, thin, worn, and famished, but erect, and with eyes looking level into ours, waking memories that bound us together as no other bond;—was not such manhood to be welcomed back into a Union so tested and assured? Instructions had been given, and when the head of each division column comes opposite our group, our bugle sounds the signal and instantly our whole line from right to left, regiment by regiment in succession, gives the soldier's salutation, from the "order arms" to the old "carry"—the marching salute. Gordon at the head of the column, riding with heavy spirit and downcast face, catches the sound of shifting arms, looks up, and, taking the meaning, wheels superbly, making with himself and his horse one uplifted figure, with profound salutation as he drops the point of his sword to the boot toe; then facing to his own command, gives word for his successive brigades to pass us with the same position of the manual,—honor answering honor. On our part not a sound of trumpet more, nor roll of drum; not a cheer, nor word nor whisper of vain-glorying, nor motion of man standing again at the order, but an awed stillness rather, and breath-holding, as if it were the passing of the dead!
Would that the woke had some small love and respect for their nation and history to balance their zeal in hoping to destroy its culture.
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