More Dispatches From Gettysburg Irish America Marks The Battle's 135th Anniversary DAY 3: THE HIGH-WATER MARK 20,000 PRISONERS CAPTURED DESPERATE CHARGES BY THE MASSED REBEL TROOPS Our Troops Stand Firm As a Rock Artillery Barrage Lasts a Full Hour -- Irish Capture Rebel Colors -- Awesome Display of Firepower -- A 'Hail Mary' Is Heard Above the Din -- The Republic Is Saved FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT WITH THE IRISH VOLUNTEERS Monday, July 6, 1998 The grand event is over and many of the participants are already back home. In short, it was a tremendous success. The 135th Anniversary Gettysburg reenactment was well run from start to finish, other than the poor showing of the organizers at the registration barn. Otherwise, all the amenities were extremely well-taken care of and the men and ladies who participated in this event can have nothing to complain about. Kudos to the event organizers. It is hard to say how many participants were present -- rumors varied greatly. However, the lowest number head-count by your correspondent was 23,000 participants. THE DISPATCHES Preparations The Advance The Armies Gather Day 1: The Armies Collide Day 2: Struggle for the Hills Day 3: The High-Water Mark Reflections For the Irish Volunteers, no battalion drill was scheduled for Sunday morning. The men were given for their leisure the time from reveille to 10:30 a.m., and many took the chance to pack up their knapsacks and tents to prepare to leave. At 10:30 a.m. the bugles again blew and summoned us to the color line. The battalion was formed up and marched out into the bright sun of the open meadow and down the slope to the center of the Union line on the the recreated Cemetery Ridge position. Spectators had already gathered here three or more hours before the fight began and as we marched by the lads yelled in "brogues," "We're the Irish regiment!" "They say we're to be stationed in front of that lovely copse of trees..." "Philadelphia's Irishmen will keep the Union center safe!" &c. &c. The Irish Vols took up position just to the left of the copse of trees and waited the arrival of the 69th Pennsylvania of the USV Brigade. In an hour, the 69th Pa. showed up marching under their green flag and took up position to the Irish Vols' right. My company, the 155th NY, was located about 50 yards left of the copse of trees right up at the stone wall. About 25 yards behind us was a set of batteries -- 12 cannon in the first line and 12 more cannon in a second line behind and above the first line. We waited as more and more troops took the field. At one point, a staff officer from another brigade attempted to bully the Irish Vols out of our pre-designated position but Colonel Air and Lt. Col. Eames would not budge and we maintained our correct position in the line. Our company later overhead this same officer admitting he had made a mistake and that the Irish were indeed in their correct spot. Later, about noon, our division commander, General Tony Daniels, rode down our line and highly complimented the Irish Volunteers on their performance over the weekend. The General said that, through the years, the Irish had proven to be a battalion he could "always count on to do the right thing--be in the right place at the right time, and portray the Irish units with dignity". I can tell you, the General made many a friend in the Irish Volunteers with his fine speech. With the 69th Pennsylvania added to our ranks, the Irish Volunteers proved to be larger than the original 69th Pa. at Gettysburg so, as for the Wheatfield battle a day before, we were split into two battalions for Pickett's Charge--the right remained with the 69th PA under Lt. Col. Eames, and the left four companies (155th NY, 140th NY, 69th NY Co. A, and 69th NY Co. B from California) under Col. Air and Major Brian O'Connor, were to portray the 59th New York, which was located just left of the Irish 69th PA at Gettysburg. Your correspondent felt a bit down at not fighting directly under the green banner, but we had a good view of the 69th PA's flag about 50 yards away from us, directly at the Angle in the stone wall. We fought under the blue flag of the 140th NY for the scenario. The day was sunny and bright, but had cooled off a tad from the last few days. A nice breeze was in our faces and cooled us considerably. The wind also proved a moving sight by unfurling all the battle flags in their glory--the green banner of the 69th PA in particular was quite noticable in this respect. We waited at the stone wall for almost three hours for the battle to commence. After shifting around in position a bit, we wound up about where we had started, and shortly after, Colonel Air rode by on his horse and ordered us, too, to go prone behind the wall. All up and down the line thousands and thousands of blue troops were doing the same and the sight was impressive in the extreme. The sheer numbers in line were mind boggling. The field was about 3/4 mile square, and had a farm about 500 yards to the front left of the copse of trees. The telltale glinting of sun off car windshields in the parking fields in the distance told that this was still the 20th-century, but if you looked in the right areas you could fool yourself. A battalion of Union skirmishers took up position at the midpoint of the field at the double fence that was meant to be the Emmitsburg Road. The Union men all lay prone behind the wall. Your correspondent, as a sergeant and file closer behind the second rank, lay down a touch behind the rear rank and therefore I could see over the stone wall without lifting my head much. The artillery batteries were directly in our rear barely 75 feet. A few minutes after we lay down, looking straight out at the rebel wood line a mile or so away, I saw a puff of smoke. "The ball's opening, lads!" I yelled. It took several seconds for the "boom" noise to reach us. To our front, pyrotechnics went off as the "shell" landed about 200 yards to our front right. We had seen the Rebel batteries being positioned all morning, but nothing prepared us for what happened next. After their signal gun fired, from the rebel right (our left), rebel guns commenced firing by file down the line--one at a time following the other in rapid shotgun-like succession. I don't know how many guns the Confederates had, but it must have been about 75 or more, and there were about 50 Union guns to reply to them. The Rebel fire went down their line. As I thought they must be out of guns and all had been fired, another whole battery would commence firing. After this initial firing, the Union guns opened up with a roar right over our heads. The lads of the Irish Volunteers hardly needed to be told to keep their heads down. The boys in the 155th scratched in the grass and dirt, prone, faces down, hands over ears, as the impressive barrage went on and on without let-up. The rebels fired and our guns gave them back every bit, with the batteries immediately to our rear being among the most active. We were so close under their muzzles their blasts actually moved the cloth on the back of my uniform, and their smoke shot out past our heads. The ground trembled at the fury of it all--with every shot. I raised my head just a little to see the rebel cannon firing furiously and looked down the line at what must have been 9,000 Union troops hugging Mother Earth for dear life. As I lay there, I thought of the Irishmen of 135th years ago at the stone wall and the absolute terror they must have felt going through the hell of the Gettysburg artillery barrage. Out on the field, the pyrotechnics were going off, the cannon roared incessantly and we heard the gun chiefs and battery commanders bellowing orders: "Prepare to fire by battery!" and so forth. My head began to hurt from the concussions of the blasts. Two companies down, in the 69th NY Co. A's ranks, I heard Chaplain Rob Carter (I think it was him) praying the "Hail Mary" out loud over and over and over. And it went on. And on. And on. One pard timed it. The artillery barrage at the 135th Gettysburg reenactment lasted for over a full hour. It was almost numbing. At one point in the barrage, three horsemen appeared in our line. It was reenactor Bruce Stocking--who bears a striking resemblance to General Winfield Scott Hancock. He rode down the line slowly as the batteries were reloading, accompanied only by one orderly and a mounted cavalryman bearing aloft the 2nd Corps banner. Stocking/Hancocok shouted to the men, "Steady boys!" and other encouragement. He rode behind me and I yelled, "General, are they coming?" and he replied, "Not yet sergeant. They must be yellow cowards to hide like this, but I think if they do come you boys will teach them a lesson!" He rode on down the line. After an hour, someone in the 140th NY to our left cried, "Here they come!" and our lieutenant cried, "Hold still boys and lay down! It's only their skirmishers." A strong skirmish line emerged from the far tree line a mile away and commenced advancing on our skirmishers in the road. Musketry started and soon a very hot skirmish fight was going on with probably 700 skirmishers engaged. More than 10,000 Confederates marched in parade-like precision to assault the awaiting Federals during "Pickett's Charge" at Gettysburg '98'. [Click here for a more detailed view. (150KB)] Composite Photo by Kevin O'Beirne Soon, the Union troops rallied on their reserves and abandoned the position to the Secesh skirmishers. Somewhere down the line someone yelled, "Look!" and we saw the long gray line emerge from the far woodline. Their batteries were engulfed in the gray line of infantry and the brigades formed and commenced a steady tramp toward our position. The men in the 155th New York watched the scene: "Jesus!" "It really is Pickett's Charge" "Good Lord, they're still coming!" "Look off to the left--more of them!" "They'll never stop" and so forth. The lieutenant, captain, and 1st Sergeant and me tried to keep the boys steady and hold our fire. The long line was broken here and there by battalion and brigade formation intervals but it came on toward us at a steady tramp. It was amazing how fast they covered that mile of distance. Behind us, the cannon roared without let-up.When the Rebel line was 50 yards short of the Emmitsburg Road, Colonel Air ordered, "Rise up boys!" As if on cue, almost 9,000 blue soldiers scrambled to their feet, the colors were unfurled (I saw the green flag of the 69th PA down the line floating in the breeze), and company commanders ordered their men to prime their already-loaded muskets. Colonel Air rode over, "Captain, firing by company, commence firing!" At Captain Wagner's orders, the 155th opened up with a perfect volley. I looked down the line, and the 69th Pa. and 28th Massachusetts of the Irish Volunteers were already hotly firing. The rebel line came on in great order. Not arrow-straight but very impressive nonetheless, red banners aloft. Men in the gray ranks began to fall by the scores and hundreds, but there were over 11,000 rebels there--for real. The fire from the Union line was intense. The gray lines began to melt. On orders, the Irish Vols (59th NY wing) peeled back from the wall when the rebels got close, fired into them, and allowed the batteries to get in a couple more shots into the gray horde. Secesh infantrymen were piling up in heaps in the last 100 yards before the wall. On they came -- the succeeding waves came up to replace the devastated first waves. From right to left their line was the full width of the entire field--I could not see it all and it must have been 3/4 of a mile long. Order was disintegrating in the Confederate ranks before our position at the angle. I encouraged the platoon in front of me and looked down the line -- the 69th PA was holding their own under the green banner. The sons of Erin were doing well. We advanced again to re-take our position at the wall. The Rebel brigades' order was lost and it was left to individual battalions to carry on the attack. Two or three battalions tried our line after we saw General Armistead go over the wall into the 69th's position. We mowed the Rebels to our front down with musketry. Our captain ordered a volley fire as one small battalion approached us and the perfect volley blew out the whole center of their line, taking all the field officers and colors with it. Yet another battalion came right for us as our men frantically re-loaded. I yelled, "Hurry boys, it matters this time. Here they come at us!" We got a volley off which felled many but the survivors came on right into our line. We hauled them over the wall -- they were members of the 10th Virginia Infantry -- and the 155th New York, Co. I, had the honor of capturing their colors. After the rebel flag was ours, I looked out and noticed that all rebel cohesion was lost and their momentum spent. The field was covered in thousands of bodies and a few hundred survivors were limping off past the Emmitsburg Road. The assault was over. The Sons of Erin had held. We cheered the artillery. We cheered the Rebels. We cheered our brave Captain Wagner and Colonel Air. We cheered the Union. What a helluva fight! What a spectacle! Soon, the company was dismissed and we made our way back to our camp and cars. Your correspondent was on the road home and free of the traffic jams by 4:00 p.m. The sights and sounds of Pickett's Charge '98 will live long in all participants' memories. It was Pickett's Charge re-created on a 1:1 basis. It was, in itself, history being made. If you weren't there, buy the reenactment video -- this is a scene not to be missed. I have no idea how many spectators were present, but they were packed in 20 deep around the perimeter of more than half the battlefield, and the field was almost a mile square. Thus ended the 135th Anniversary Gettysburg Reenatment. It was hot, it was sticky, and it was arduous. It was also great and I would not have missed it for anything. The Irish Volunteers, I think, did a good job of upholding the honor of the Irish regiments at Gettysburg, and added a bit to its own laurels as a battalion of dedicated living historians who can be counted upon to do what they're asked, when they're asked, in exactly the way they're asked. No one could ask better for a group of men dedicated to remembering the Irish Brigade and the other Irish regiments of the Federal Army. Fag an bealac! Erin go braugh! Your humble correspondent, Kevin O'Beirne, Sergeant, 155th New York State Volunteers Co. I Irish Volunteers Battalion MORE DETAILS ON THE GREAT BATTLE JUBILATION! JUBILATION! JUBILATION! UNPRECEDENTED BEAUTY AND HORROR 10,000 REBELS APPROACH IN CLEAR VIEW ENEMY FORMATION ELICITS OUR ADMIRATION OUR VOLLEYS, ARTILLERY RIP THEIR LINES REMNANT OF LEE’S ARMY STAGGERS AWAY 2nd Corps Cries "Fredericksburg!" – Revenge Is Theirs – A Set of Rosary Beads as Talisman July 3, 1863 (actually July 5, 1998) With Stannard's Vermont Brigade - 3rd Brigade, 3rd Division, 1st Corps. As the morning moves toward noon we are posted just left of a low rail fence that runs to our right up to another wall, this one made of field stones. We take turns moving back into the small bits of shade that are available to us. As 1st Sgt. I try to keep track of everyone should the Capt. ask their whereabouts. To the west, perhaps ¾ of a mile away, we can see a number of Confederate cannons and more being moved into place. Most of the men of my company are veteran soldiers, no one need tell them what this means, but I tell a few of the new men to be sure to stay close, it appears something big is in the wind. The sun is beating down now; there are but a few clouds in the sky. Moving over to the Color Company on our left I speak for a time with their 1st Sgt., Dennis Anderson, and we are soon renewing the running argument we have had all weekend. He is Irishborn, as am I, but he served in the British army in both the Crimea and India and he and I often argue about this fact. I will berate him for taking the Queen's shilling, throwing in a few insults for Queen 'Vicky,' while he will accuse me of having 'taken the soup' during the Great Hunger and converting. (A dirty lie, as God is my witness.) But, as always, with sudden death a very real possibility, we put our differences over this aside at the last minute. I take out my rosary beads, which the regiment has come to belief have protective powers, and let him touch them for luck, then we share a drink from my flask and wish each other 'slainte,' health, in the fight we are sure is coming. No sooner had we finished that than two shots were fired by the Secesh artillery. Knowing more were surely coming, I hurried back to my company and helped make sure everyone was lying down and getting as much cover as possible just as a tremendous volley was let loose by an untold number of Confederate guns. The very ground shook as we all settled in, fearing the worst, but we soon realized that most of the shots were aimed to our north and what's more, nearly all of them we now passing completely over the ridge. There was little we could do now but wait what was surely coming after the bombardment, a rebel advance which, given the open ground between us and them, would not be attempted with anything but a very large force of infantry. Settling in for the wait, I shared my meager lunch, some beef jerky and cheese and a single apple, with Capt. Brand, my company commander. Like all officers he must buy his food rather than having it provided by the army free of charge as it is to enlisted men. The Capt. has been known to enjoy a game of cards now and then and I fear he may have lost all his money this way. He is grateful for the little I can give him as we discuss the prospects for a large-scale attack following the artillery. We agree it is highly likely. Before we had finished our modest repaste we heard a commotion to our right. Shortly I looked upon one of the finest generals of the Army of the Potomac riding toward us. It was Winfield Scott Hancock; Hancock the Superb, riding along as if there were no cannon firing at all, to inspire the men for the hour of truth he knew was coming. High on his huge horse, he sent a chill down our spines as he waved his hat and assured us that all would be well. We were steeled to the job ahead, we would not be moved! Soon the artillery of both sides grew silent. Within moments, up and down the Federal lines, which spread out about 1/3 of a mile to our right and was three battalions deep, a murmur began to hum, men were pointing to the west, "Look at that, oh my God, look at that." Out of the woods and past their artillery came battalion after battalion of gray and butternut-tinted lines of Confederate soldiers. We had no time to make a rough count by counting brigades, but it appeared to be 10,000 or more. In many of our engagements in the War up to that point we had been in fights involving large numbers of Rebs, but never before had we fought on a field where we were able to see them all at once like this. It was a sight that inspired both awe and more than a little fright; a sight none of us will soon forget. It is not often that a man looks down on 10,000 soldiers who are all intent on killing him. Our battalion and brigade officers were up and busy now, orders rent the air as up and down the line the Federal army prepared to meet the onslaught of the Confederate host. There was tension about, but not panic. As the immense lines of our enemies advanced further, we began to see that the focus of the attack would be a short distance to our right. The men to our right belonged to Hancock's own 2nd Corps. Some had gone up Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg just 8 months ago. This time they had the stone wall to hide behind; this time they waited for the enemy to attack up hill to them. They were thirsting for revenge; most were ready to die where they stood before they would yield their position. It was a comforting thought for us, for in battle your fate rests not only on your own battalion but those to your right and left as well. As I moved down our line, letting each man in the company touch my rosary beads for luck, I assured them that our 2nd Corps comrades would not be moved. A few times in the War, as at Fredericksburg, the 2nd Corps had failed to take the difficult positions they had assaulted; but not once had they been forced to yield a defensive position of any kind, and this was a strong one. As the first Rebels crashed through a rail fence at the bottom of the rise, our infantry opened on them. Men began to fall as we watched, mere spectators for the moment, but there was a brigade moving toward us. Now, however, they began to oblique to our right. We got the order to fire and began to hit at them, but still they moved to our right. General Hancock soon rode up, seeing a golden opportunity to destroy this brigade that was about to present us its flank. No sooner had he relayed this order to our staff than I watched him fall from his horse, seriously wounded. We heard the order to "change front forward on the 1st company, right half wheel, march" and did so at the double quick, more eager than ever to smite those who had struck down Hancock. This maneuver done at the double quick has no parade ground prettiness, but it is the quickest and most effective way to turn a whole battalion in line of battle to the right. In this case it was deadly effective. Two battalions came down on the right flank of the rebel brigade, Kemper’s, we later learned, and he was shot off his horse as well. The front battalion kneeled and ours stood, firing over their heads. The results of our massed firepower filled me with a mixture of feeling. As the rebels went down in twos, threes and fours, like wheat before a razor sharp scythe, I was happy to see we had destroyed one flank of their massive attack, but I was filled with revulsion as well, at the incredibly rapid and massive destruction of human beings at such close range. I was reminded of the word we Irish have to describe the price of expensive things: dear. The price for saving the Union was dear, indeed. In a very few minutes we had no targets left in front of us, they were all dead, wounded, or had run away and we began some longer range firing at the rebels farther on toward the Federal right. We could see they had reached the wall, but their numbers were reduced considerably when they got there. It wasn't long before it became obvious that this rebel attack, unlike so many against the Army of the Potomac in the past, had failed. Down from the wall and over the field to the dismantled rail fence at the bottom, rebels walked and hobbled in ones, twos, and threes, back toward their lines. There were still many standing but now they had no command, no flags to follow, no organization, and they knew there was nothing for them now but go back where they came from and hope for better luck anther day. They knew they were beaten. In the Federal ranks there was jubilation. Hurrah, boys hurrah!! The Union is saved, for the moment at least. And then, from the veteran 2nd Corps boys came the chant, serenading those men of the Army of Northern Virginia as they dragged their tired bodies westward. "Fredericksburg, Fredericksburg!!" Rising to a roar now, "FREDERICKSBURG, FREDERICKSBURG!!" For the boys of the Vermont Brigade it was an amazing engagement. Because the Confederates we fought were so intent on getting by to our right, we had sustained few casualties, but had inflicted hundreds. We pray this defeat will convince the traitorous government of the South that their cause is futile. -- Sgt. Joseph Gannon, 27th Connecticut Infantry WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION - OR - WE DON'T HAVE ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN SPAIN Gordon Markiewicz, left, and Iban Ameztoy. Many of the reenactors at this mammoth event came not just from all over the US, but from many different parts of the world. If you go to our Reflections page, you'll see a picture of several reenactors from England and Ireland who fell in with the Irish Volunteers. Not to be outdone, we in the 27th CT had a world traveler of our own in our midst. Lt. Gordon Markiewicz had a young exchange student, Iban Ameztoy, from the Basque region of Spain, staying with him for the summer and Gordon thought ,"what better way to immerse the lad in some Americana than to suit him up and let him help save the Union." If one were to measure culture shock on a 1-10 scale this would have to be a strong 9, at least. Iban said that before he got to the reenactment site, "I couldn't even imagine what it [a CW reenacment] was." And then, after he got there, "I couldn't believe it! We don't have anything like this Spain!" Well, WE certainly have no trouble believing that. When it was all over Iban had fought in four battles, fired off close to 100 rounds, slept on the ground in a camp of over 10,000 Federal reenactors, spent two nights around a campfire singing CW songs, and participated in what was most likely the biggest battle reenactment in history. Asked what he thought about all this Iban said, "You can really learn a lot more about history this way. Living like the soldiers lived." Hey, I believe the young lad just summed up the reason a lot of us do this in those two sentences. Iban is leaving for home on the July 25, so by the time many of you read this he will be back on the other side of the Atlantic again; but Gordon has really provided the lad with several hours of interesting stories to tell around the kitchen table. No doubt the family is waiting to hear them too. Gordon tells me that Iban spoke briefly with his father after they got back to Connecticut and when he asked Iban what his dad had to say when he told him a few things about the reenactment Iban gave him a sheepish grin and replied, "He says Americans are mad." Gordon, can you think of anything that would disprove that? ..... Didn't think so, me either. Slán abhaile (safe home) Pvt. Ameztoy, and thanks for helping us win the battle of Gettysburg, again. (P.S. About your $13 privates pay: the check is in the mail.) -- Sgt. Joseph Gannon, 27th Connecticut Infantry MORE ON 'THE IRISH AT GETTYSBURG': Introduction Dispatches From the 135th Why Ireland Lost at Gettysburg A Monument for the Irish Brigade's Patrick Kelly Private Willie Mitchel: An Irish Confederate Boy The 116th Pennsylvania: The Irish Brigade's 5th Regiment James McKay Rorty: From Donegal To Cemetery Ridge Capt. James K. O'Reilly's Gettysburg Resources: More on The Irish at Gettysburg Sponsors More on The Wild Geese During the America's Civil War E-mail us for more information about The Wild Geese Today Click to return to The Wild Geese Today's Home Page Copyright © 1998, GAR Media. All rights reserved.