Standing atop that rocky hill in Pennsylvania on July 2, 1863, those five hundred Union soldiers from Maine must have felt as if their world was ending. Under the command of Union Colonel Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, the 20th Maine Infantry Regiment held the southern slope of Little Round Top, the extreme left end of the Union line. The 15th Alabama Regiment, commanded by Confederate Colonel William C. Oates, was charging up the hill, hoping to take the hill and fold up the entire Union line. The Mainers’ stand seemed impossible, and yet somehow they held. Such is the story that Thomas A. Desjardin tells in Stand Firm Ye Boys from Maine.
Desjardin, a Mainer and a Gettysburg resident who has led a number of National Park Service programs on Gettysburg, seems ideally situated to tell the story of The 20th Maine and the Gettysburg Campaign (the book’s subtitle). The book provides an excellent regiment-level look at a crucial moment from the Civil War’s Pennsylvania Campaign, and Desjardin is careful to acknowledge his debt to John Pullen’s classic study The Twentieth Maine: A Volunteer Regiment in the Civil War (1957).
The book is well-written and well-illustrated. Desjardin writes clearly and economically – the book is just 167 pages long, not counting appendices – and captures the drama and sweep of the engagement well, as in this passage regarding the Alabama infantry’s attack on the hill:
When the assault finally reached its goal, it was, thanks to the confusing approach maneuvers, ‘en echelon,’ meaning that it struck a point and then rolled toward its right. It was like a wave on the Maine coastline, thundering toward the flank as it broke along the rocks. The enemy struck first in the brigade’s center, squarely on the 44th New York. The wave, breaking slowly past the 83rd Pennsylvania, came crashing in on the Maine men and, before long, they were awash in the fight. (p. 50)
Yet Desjardin makes sure not to draw a gloss of romanticism over the violence and brutality of Civil War combat. A chapter titled “Seared by the Horrors of War” captures in a moving and powerful manner the emotional trauma experienced by the soldiers of the 20th Maine who defended Little Round Top; even if they had the good fortune to come away from that little rocky hill alive and uninjured, they came away scarred by the sights they had seen – putrefying bodies of men and horses, too numerous to count; wounded soldiers who had crawled into a barn for shelter, only to burn to death when the barn caught fire. The term “post-traumatic stress disorder” did not exist in 1863, or for a long time afterward, but it is clear that plenty of the brave soldiers of the 20th Maine came out of Little Round Top with PTSD.
And later in the book, when Desjardin compares the postwar perspectives of Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain – who emphasized the heroic elements of Little Round Top in a manner that Desjardin finds romanticized – and his subordinate Ellis Spear, who saw war as pure horror and felt endless guilt at the knowledge that soldiers whom he had recruited had died at Little Round Top – the comparison is not to Chamberlain’s advantage.
I appreciated the careful way in which Desjardin arranged information throughout the book. When Desjardin mentions a specific soldier of the 20th Maine, he provides a photograph of the soldier right away, in a photograph embedded within the text. When he wants to talk about a key moment from the engagement on Little Round Top, he provides a map right then and there – rather than sticking all the photographs and all the maps between, say, pages 152 and 153, by which time many readers will have forgotten the significance of said photograph or map.
At the same time, a key part of the goal of Desjardin’s book seems to be demythologizing the 20th Maine’s stand at Little Round Top, particularly in terms of Michael Shaara’s novel The Killer Angels (1974) and Ronald Maxwell’s film adaptation Gettysburg (1993). As Desjardin sees it, both Shaara’s novel and Maxwell’s film, seeking to give Americans a hero for the modern age, depicted Colonel Chamberlain in a role that captured his heroism, and did engage the imaginations of thousands of Americans, but did so in a manner that might not be historically accurate.
While reading this book on a trip to Maine, I passed through a number of cities and towns that were home to members of the illustrious regiment – Portland, Brunswick, Thomaston, Waldoboro, Rockland. Passing through those towns, on U.S. Route 1 or Maine Route 9, I imagined those young Mainers leaving their beautiful little towns, bound for terrors they could not have imagined, and for the experience - glorious for some, deadly or traumatizing for others, life-changing for all - of being part of the regiment that is described in Ken Burns’s documentary The Civil War (1990) as having, perhaps, saved the Union at Gettysburg. Desjardin would find that assessment excessive, just as he admires Chamberlain’s heroism for its vulnerable, human qualities, rather than as part of a romantic, larger-than-life tableau. His depiction of the 20th Maine at Gettysburg is thorough, thoughtful, and persuasive.