Double Birthday Treat
I was kind of hoping Dad would have shown up in a dream the night before, as he occasionally does, but upon awakening, I couldn’t remember if he had. I could feel his presence, though. It was a reassuring presence. I’d gotten a good enough night’s sleep, and though I was still coughing and hacking, I felt sufficiently healthy to do this. It would be cold — we’d start the day in freezing temperatures, but at least it would be dry.
My friends were looking forward to this day, and I was the one who’d suggested it, in the first place. I didn’t want to let them down. I didn’t want to let me down. I most especially didn’t want to let Dad down. There is a part of me that sometimes feels like he still lives vicariously through me, especially when I go on these battlefield tours. I know that he did a few of them, but if he’d lived in the proximity to so many of the fields, like I do, I’m pretty sure he would have been like a pig in the crap — he would have loved it, and would have gone out there at least as often as I do.
I got my layers ready for a long walk in the cold — T-Shirt, long-sleeved T-shirt, hoodie, heavy flannel shirt, jacket, tossle cap, gloves, thick socks, hiking boots — so I set about cutting up oranges and apples for myself and the guys, filled my big gallon thermos with hot water for coffee, my cooler with water, cold-brew coffee mix, and cream. I printed out all 42 battlefield maps Doug had sent by e-mail the day before — he’s thorough — did my prayer and meditation time in the jacuzzi out back (warming up my bones and my soul simultaneously), then made tracks for Rich’s house, our 6:00 a.m. meeting place.
I was glad my hearing seemed to be improving in my good ear — it had been so congested I was effectively deaf in that ear, relying completely on my hearing-aid ear, which is always a bit diminished, even with the aid. (Without the hearing aid, forget about it).
These guys are two of my closest friends, and just having a good part of the day to spend with them was going to be quite a treat. Rich and I share the same birthday, so for us, it was our birthday treat.
As we arrived at the battlefield, Doug told us we would be walking about four miles. Before the day was done, I had walked eight — but no complaints. Doug had spent the entire hour and half drive to Antietam setting the battle up for us, explaining in detail all of the events that led up to this bloodiest day in American history. By the time we got there, we were fully prepared to be walked through the day’s events, which had really begun before dawn and continued until after 5:00 p.m.
What always strikes me about these battlefields is how overwhelmingly peaceful they are. You wonder, as you walk along this field, that sunken road, past that church that had been riddled with canon fire, if any of the spirits of those who fell here are still around, still haunting this place, or have they all long since moved on? Is it some form of universal compensation that, after a particular place has seen such unbridled human carnage, that it obtains an energy of such great peace? Or, is it all in one’s head. Is it so peaceful because you bring that energy to it in your reverence, and remembrance, of what the place represents? It’s hard to say.
I know for me, it represents a significant point in the progress of that war, in which northern forces, which had for the most part been poorly led up to then, somehow managed to stop Robert E. Lee and his army in their tracks in their first attempt to invade northern territory, turned them around and sent them back to Virginia, from whence they came. I know that my great grandfather was there to witness this bloodiest day in American history, and I also know that within weeks of this battle, he wound up in the hospital in Philadelphia, suffering from extreme exposure, malnutrition and dehydration. If they had the term back then, his diagnosis probably would have included PTSD. He would spend close to five months hospitalized, before returning to his company just in time for another major battle, the 2nd Battle of Fredericksburg.
On our way to the battlefield, as we climbed up the mountain and made our way through a pass in it, Doug mentioned that this was the route my great grandfather’s outfit would have taken on their way to the battle. On our way back home, we stopped, and I was able to find the marker that said the 61st Pennsylvania volunteer regiment had been through there.
It was an amazing day, I learned way more than I ever knew about that battle, I had a tremendous time with these two good friends, and I felt that much closer to my father as we made our way back to Vienna, in the early afternoon. Another friend had given me a gift certificate for a deep tissue massage for my birthday, and fortune smiled on me when they had a 4:00 opening. After eight miles worth of walking, an hour of deep tissue massage was the perfect way to end a spectacular birthday. What a treat!
