At about six thirty this morning, a group of
men in the Pennsylvania Reserves, with blue jackets and deer tails in
their hats, formed a thin skirmish line before a field of corn. The
dawn air had an oppressive humidity like a wool blanket, and the wet
ground muffled their footsteps. Silently, they crept into an
impenetrable fog to meet their destiny. The stillness of the morning
was shattered by the crack of rifles, thunder of artillery and the
screams of the wounded and dying. Just as their role in the battle
of Antietam began for the First Pennsylvania Bucktails, 150 years ago on September 17, 1862. Many vanished into the white
mist, never to return. A quiet, peaceful morning began the single
bloodiest day in American history.
"...Smoke from the artillery
and musketry inundated the field. Soldiers in the thick of the fight
were covered with the black, greasy stain of burnt powder, which gave a
deadly, ghostlike appearance to the participants. The pungent smell of
trampled vegetation, sweat, powder and bodies imposed a surrealistic
perception that survivors carried with them the rest of their lives."
--Carnage in a Cornfield. Robert C. Cheeks, America's Civil War
magazine, September 1998
In tribute to those men who didn't come home, we got a taste of that today.
