1st Lt. Craddock

1st Sgt. Kendall Smith

2nd Sgt. Todd Kornegay

Cpl. Chris Bingham

Lane Smith

Co. D. 27th North Carolina

Headquarters, Raleigh, North Carolina

 

November 8, 2006

 

 

 

Report of First Lt. Dean Harry, 37th North Carolina, Lane’s Brigade, Hill’s Corps

Headquarters, Raleigh, N.C. August 14, 2006

 

Gentlemen: I have the honor to report that a section of the 27th North Carolina attached to the 37th North Carolina went into action on August 11th – 13th at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

On August 11th at 1:00 p.m. we formed at Pitzer’s Woods on the southern end of Seminary Ridge and under the direction of Captain Cole and 1st Sergeant Craddock marched approximately ¾ mile to the North Carolina monument. After a short ceremony in which a wreath was laid on the monument we knelt for a brief prayer and moment of reflection. The order to rise was given and our fifty-man company turned to face our objective, the Bryan farm.  No one failed to recognize that the 1,300 yards of open ground we were to cross are dominated by high ground on both ends. Strong post and rail fences line the Emmitsburg Road, and a sturdy rock wall dominates the final one hundred yards. We knew that those hills and ridges had held 125 Union guns capable of firing of both front and flanks of the assault on July 3rd, 1863. We knew that on that day nearly 10,000 Union infantry, many armed with multiple muskets, waited behind the stone wall to our front. Many of us wondered if we could have obeyed the order to rise and advance “for the Old North State.”

“Right Face, By File Right, March” was the order and the company started across the field. The only sounds were a steady cadence from Pvt. Turner’s drum, and the rustling two hundred shoes in the grass. As the landscape is rough and lined with fences and ditches, we advanced in column of fours, periodically stopping in line of battle to listen to our Ranger historian’s description of what occurred along this route. We listened to the words of General Lane

            Now in command of my own brigade, I moved forward to the support of Pettigrew’s right, through the woods in which our batteries were planted, and through an open field about a mile, in full view of the enemy’s fortified position, and under a murderous artillery and infantry fire.

            As soon as Pettigrew’s command gave back, Lowrance’s brigade and my own, without ever having halted, took a position on the left of the troops which were still contesting the ground with the enemy. My command never  moved  forward more handsomely. The men reserved their fire, in accordance with orders, until within good range of the enemy, and then opened with telling effect, repeatedly driving the cannoneers from their pieces, completely silencing the guns on our immediate front, and breaking the line of infantry which was formed on the crest of the hill. We advanced to within a few yards of the stone wall, exposed all the while to a heavy raking artillery fire from the right. My left here was very much exposed, and a column of the enemy’s infantry was thrown forward in that direction which enfiladed my whole line. This forced me to withdraw.

After crossing the Emmitsburg Road, we were allowed to fix bayonets and charge the spectators, a very rare privilege at Gettysburg National Military Park, granted us because the discipline and military demeanor demonstrated during the advance. Upon reaching the crest of Cemetery Ridge at Ziegler’s Grove we were greeted by a group of spectators and paused to allow them to take pictures. We then marched by the right flank to the angle, stopped for a short rest and marched back to Seminary Ridge, following the route of the retreat of Pickett’s division. We paused for a short rest at the Virginia monument and then marched back to camp, having covered a little more than three miles. Our work for the day was done.

It seemed everyone felt the power of the battlefield. Not once during the march, or during the entire event for that matter, did I hear a word of complaint. There was little talking in the ranks during the marches or drill over the next two days. Everyone, without exception, fell in on time for every program. We marched in step, executed commands promptly and fired crisp volleys, pausing afterwards to listen to them echo across the fields and woods that marked the end of hopes for Southern Independence and brought despair to so many households both South and North.

Our camp enhanced the experience, with most soldiers choosing to throw bedrolls under the stars, some few electing to share a shelter half. Camp stools, tables and modern anachronisms were nowhere to be seen. During the late mornings and early afternoons men could be seen huddled around small fires, trying to turn pork belly, corn, potatoes and hardtack into something edible. Some succeeded and were rewarded with a tasty meal, others choked down their failures without complaint. Soon after dark, the camp quieted except for a muffled voice here and there. Then, all was quiet.

Sunday morning, as I rolled my blanket and tried to loosen muscles unaccustomed to resting on hard ground, I heard the sounds of an old hymn wafting across the camp, as if sung by angles. I stopped and strained to hear the words.

 

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.

This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;

His hand the wonders wrought.

 

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,

The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.

This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;

In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;

He speaks to me everywhere.

 

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:

Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,

And earth and Heav’n be one.

 

It was a moment I will never forget. It thought how easy it is to become disheartened as we suffer the daily bombardment of images of death and destruction and stories of greed and political corruption. I was glad for the reminder that while wrong may seem strong, it cannot rule.

During our last program on Sunday the company and spectators were introduced to a veteran of the conflict in Iraq, a beautiful young girl named Christie, missing her right leg from the calf down, and with her left leg in a brace, confined to a wheelchair. I couldn’t help but think of the 56,286 killed, wounded and missing from this very field. Christie seemed a living monument to generations of Americans, young and old who have sacrificed themselves for the freedom we all enjoy. She appeared to be absorbed by our drill, and slightly embarrassed by our salute. Drilling in front of Christie we stood a bit taller, the movements of the manual of arms seemed sharper and more uniformly performed. Even the volleys sounded a bit louder, and the echoes lingered a bit longer. It’s another image and moment I, and probably many others, will never forget.

I will leave the stories of evenings in town, antagonistic cattle, thieving squirrels and ghostly battlefield encounters for other campfires.

 

Respectfully submitted,

 

Captain Dean Harry

Co. D, 27th North Carolina 

 

Muster Roll

 

1st Lt. Dean Harry

1st Sgt. Bryan Craddock

3rd Sgt. Richard Laurent

4th Sgt. Kendall Smith

Cpl. Todd Kornegay

Cpl. Paul Laurent

 

Privates

Andy Allen

Ellis Braswell

Chris Bingham

Tommy Filarsky

Ben Thompson

Allen San Filippo

Andrew Turner, Musician

 

Civilians Participating in the Memorial Service

Crystal Kornegay

Jean Smith

Courtney Smith

 

Other Civilians attending as spectators

Frankie Laurent

David Turner

Beth Turner

 

Official Report of Captain Harry, Commanding 27th NC, Co, D

Manassas, Virginia

July 24, 2006

Gentlemen,

 

In lieu of my usual report I am submitting a description of the battle of First Manassas from Battles and Leaders. Those of you who took part in Saturday's battle will understand why.

 

Colonel Taylor was unable to attend this event, as was Major Lambert. Lt. Colonel Potts commanded our battalion and Lt. Colonel Gowen commanded our wing, both did an excellent job, though Colonel Taylor and Major Lambert were missed by all. Sergeant Kendall Smith acted as 1st Sergeant for the 27th, which held the position of 1st company in the battalion. The 4th Regiment represented the 5th Virginia during the battle on Saturday.  My thanks to the men of the company whose actions during the charge on Saturday evening  provided one of those  rare moments, when the line between then and now becomes extremely blurred.

 

 "Jackson’s men were lying beneath the crest of the plateau. Riding to the center of his line, where the 2nd and 4th Virginia were stationed, he gave orders for a counterstroke. “Reserve your fire till they come within fifty yards, then fire and give them the bayonet; and when you charge, yell like furies!” Right well did the hot Virginian blood respond. Inactive from the stroke of noon till three o’clock, with the crash and cries of battle in their ears, and the shells ploughing gaps in their recumbent ranks, the men were chafing under the stern discipline which held them back from the conflict they longed to join. The Federals swept on, extending from the right and left, cheering as they came, and following the flying batteries in the ardor of success.

 

Suddenly, a long gray line sprang from the ground in their very faces; a rolling volley threw them back in confusion; and then, with their fierce shouts pealing high above the tumult, the 2nd and 4th Virginia, supported by the 5th, charged forward across the hill. At the same moment that the enemy’s center was thus unexpectedly assailed, Kirby Smith’s fresh brigade bore down upon the flank, and Beauregard, with ready judgment, dispatched his staff officers to order a general advance. The broken remnants of Bee, Hampton, and Evans advanced upon Jackson’s right, and victory, long wavering, crowned the standards of the South. The Federals were driven past the guns, now finally abandoned, past the Henry House, and down the slope. McDowell made one desperate endeavor to stay the rout. Howard’s brigade was rapidly thrown in. But the center had been completely broken by Jackson’s charge; the right was giving way, and the Confederates, manning the captured guns, turned them on the masses which covered the fields below.

 

Respectfully Submitted,

 

Captain D. Harry, commanding

 

Muster Roll

 

Lt. Colonel	Abraham	Wiles
Colonel	Jeff	Gowen
Major	James	Stine
Captain	Dean	Harry
1st Lt.	Bryan	Craddock
2nd Sgt.	Richard	Laurent
3rd Sgt	Kendall	Smith
Corporal	Paul	Laurent
Corporal	Todd	Kornegay
Pvt.	Andy	Allen
Pvt.	Anthony	Allen
Pvt.	Josh	Allen
Pvt.	Chris	Bingham
Pvt.	Ellis	Braswell
Pvt.	Diego	Castro
Pvt.	Tommy	Filarsky
Pvt.	Danny	Jackson
Pvt.	Will	Jarman
Pvt.	Bill	Stine
Pvt.	Ben	Thompson
Pvt.	Andrew	Turner
Pvt.	Matthew	Kress
Civilian	Rhonda	Braswell
Civilian	Debbie	Creech
Civilian	Crystal	Kornegay
Civilian	Frankie	Laurent
Civilian	Courtney	Smith
Civilian	Jean	Smith
Civilian	Lane	Smith
Civilian	Beth	Turner
Civilian	David	Turner
Civilian	Kayla	Jackson
Civilian	Hannah	Jackson