At the Battle of Cold Harbor, VA in June of 1864, the long lines of Union Infantry lined up to assault General Robert E. LEE's well entrenched Army of Northern Virginia. Controversy continues as to which side, if any, was the "good" side, and which the "bad".

Veterans of a War already much too long, and much too bloody (about 660,000 Americans perished in it between 1861 -1865), the Soldiers in blue knew that the frontal assault was doomed before it began, and few of them were likely to survive. Passing out little slips of paper - probably the wrappers off of ammunition packets - they wrote their names, Units, and where they were from on them, then pinned them on to each others backs so that their bodies might be identified and Loved ones at home would know how, and where they died. Then the bugles sounded, the Color Guard with their aprox. 6-foot square silk Battle Flags, one Stars-and-Stripes "National" and another distinctive State or Federal "Regimental", stepped out 6 paces in advance of the line... and they went in shoulder to shoulder, 14 inches between front and rear ranks, to History and hell. One of those Battle-Flags was carried by Sgt. George Varnum BALL of Co. "F", 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry. He had volunteered for a job for which the average life expectancy in Battle was about 8 minutes, he loved his Country and remained dedicated to his percieved duty to serve and defend it - not unlike, probably, the Boys in gray waiting for them on the other side of 12-foot high earthworks. He could not bring himself to kill any more of those he came to see as unfortunate adversaries, despite any idealogical differences they might have had, since he realized that they were, after all, fellow Americans.

We are not sure where the bullet struck him; family ledgend suggests the left shoulder. As he fell, clutching the flag, another Soldier grabbed the Colors and tore them out of Sgt. Ball's hands. Advancing another 50 feet or so, this Soldier met a hail of fire from a concentrated Confederate volley, falling "..wrapped in the shredded remains of the Flag, being unrecognizable as having been a Human Being".

No truce was allowed by LEE for 3 days, while the maimed and suffering lay out in the field begging for water, mercy, or death. Anything that moved, including unarmed stretcher - bearers, were shot. Finally, Lee relented and teams went out to recover the mostly dead; after 3 days in the hot VA sun, the stench of rotting flesh had become overwhelming to both Armies. As they were preparing to bury our Ancestor, he moaned, much to the surprise of his burial detail. Transfered to a Feild Hospital, he was not expected to live long... but after 3 days he started to come out of his coma. As his left fist slowly relaxed, they found what at first was thought to be a large, nearly black blood clot... but when the Orderly cleaned it out, he found that it was a ragged swatch of red silk about 7" X 5"; the end of one of those red stripes. That relic remains in the Family, the bullet holes and bloodstains still visable. A photo of it was submitted to the Curator of the Boston State Museum a few years ago, and we are told that it matches a missing section of stripe from what remains of the Old 25th Mass. National Colors. That legacy is probably the main reason that I am a Civil-War Reenactor today, and active in the Sons of Union Veterans of the Civil War, a Patriotic Fraternal Order formed to carry on the mission of the G.A.R. in the 1880's.

Now I celebrate the freedom my fellow Citizens enjoy in flying, displaying etc. whatever flag or symbol seems to express your particular passion or identity, communal or individual. I feel badly for the Canadian contributor who had that unfortunate experience with the two dolts who were, by the way, totally bogus about the "leagality" of flying his Canadian flag at his temporary American residence. I don't consider that kind of intolerance particulary "American" at all, but of course not everyone subscribes to my definition of that term. Here in our Maine home town, I have seen the red-and-yellow flag of the PRC proudly hung outside of an upscale home. Now I'd be interested in how long one of your "Mother Earth" or black-whale banners would stay up over your mud hut (unless you were one of the Ruling Elite of course)in North Korea, Beijing, or Havannah. I don't really know, not having been to any of those Eutopian Commonwealths recently; perhaps they'd be OK with it. Please let me know how well it is recieved once you have set up housekeeping in one of those (or another) "People's Paradises". Shucks, run your bloomers up the pole and salute 'em, for all I care... but please don't pour out your contempt in overt desicration on "Old Glory" in my presence, or you are apt to see a side of me that only comes out about once in 15 or 20 years. According to the few who have wittnessed that, it is not at all pleasant, and even in my typically jolly mood, I stand as ready as ever to mingle my blood, if need be, with that of Sgt. BALL and other Forefathers before and since within those venerable and cherished folds of Red, White, and Blue.
If any of these superior intellects and enlightened spirits in here find that to be particularly "offensive", then so be it. We are no longer going to be manipulated and controlled by those who take "offence" at anything with which they do not aggree or are able to control.

Tolerate this;

"Oh we'll rally from the East, and we'll gather from the West;

Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom;

And we'll prove a loyal crew to the Land we love the best;

Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!

UNITED Forever; HURRAH, Boys, HURRAH !

Hoist up the Banner -

the STRIPES and the STARS;

For We'll RALLY 'ROUND THE FLAG, Boys,

Rally once again;

SHOUTING the BATTLE CRY of FREEDOM ! "

...

(I have tweaked the chorus a bit to reflect our "getting beyond" the catastrophic division which afflicted our adolecent Nation when the song was written by George F. ROOT in 1863. I'm working of a few "updated" verses as well. Remainder of original lyrics, as I recall, can be found on the Digitrad DB.) Without Liberty, there is no Peace.

Without diligence, and Courage, and duty, and recognition of and committment and accountability to our Creator, there is little Liberty, and that not for long. I don't know much about this "Allah" of the Taliban, but the God I have encountered and try to worship and serve, is described as the Author and essence of Light, Life, Hope, and most significantly, IMHO,.. Love. But make no mistake about it; He (oops, I just offended somebody again... O well..) is also the essence of Justice.

Alas; just when is the season to bless, and when to curse, and when to forgive and embrace, and when to draw the sword and smite, I seldom have much of a clue.- As to this situation, it's tough to control old passions and listen to the frail voice of reason and the Spirit... but I'm trying, here. Are you?