Now We Are Enemies: The Story of Bunker Hill

by Thomas Fleming

Account of the Battle of Bunker Hill June 17, 1775.

Genres: History, American Revolution, Nonfiction, Military Fiction, Military History, American Revolutionary War

366 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1960

About the author

Librarian note:
There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name

Thomas James Fleming was an historian and historical novelist, with a special interest in the American Revolution. He was born in 1927 in Jersey City, New Jersey, the son of a World War I hero who was a leader in Jersey City politics for three decades. Before her marriage, his mother, Katherine Dolan Fleming, was a teacher in the Jersey City Public School System.

After graduating from St. Peter's Preparatory School in Jersey City, Fleming spent a year in the United States Navy. He received a Bachelor's degree, with honors, from Fordham University in 1950. After brief stints as a newspaperman and magazine editor, he became a full-time writer in 1960. His first history book, Now We Are Enemies, an account of the Battle of Bunker Hill, was published that same year. It was a best-seller, reviewed in more than 75 newspapers and featured as a main selection of the Literary Guild.

Fleming published books about various events and figures of the Revolutionary era. He also wrote about other periods of American history and wrote over a dozen well-received novels set against various historical backgrounds. He said, "I never wanted to be an Irish American writer, my whole idea was to get across that bridge and be an American writer".

Fleming died at his home in New York City on July 23, 2017, at the age of 90.

Reviews

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-written narrative history of the Battle of Bunker Hill (or, more accurately, Breed's Hill). This was Fleming's first book; he has since gone on to become one of the leading writers in American history.

The one deficiency that stood out for me was the lack of notes (foot or end). Fleming deals briefly with sources in an afterword and mentions some of the aspects of the story that are debated among scholars, but at various points in the narrative itself I would have appreciated being pointed to support for his claim or a discussion of various views relating to the point in question.

The 50th Anniversary Edition, which I read, contains a number of typos, some the kind that may have come from scanning in the original book (e.g., the number "1" instead of the letter "l").

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The Sun’s o’ercast with blood; fair day, adieu!
Which is the side that I must go withal?
I am with both; each army hath a hand,
And in their rage—I having hold of both
They whirl assunder, and dismember me.”

Looking over my notes, I have too much to put in a review. This book stands easily as an authoritative account of the run up to the battle, covering all the major players and the soldiers. It really shines in describing the American effort to fortify the position and the actual battle. The Americans were not a ragtag group of farmers and the British were not wooden soldiers executing rote maneuvers. But there were amateur mistakes by the Yanks and the Brits did not appreciate the rebels might have a decent plan. Howe proceeds against the left flank, believing he can turn the flank of the main redoubt and get behind the main force. But there is a rail fence in the way:

First charge: Bayonet

The British light infantry moved steadily down the beach at a brisk five-mile-an-hour clip. Above their heads gleamed a forest of bayonets. They were under orders not to fire a shot, to sweep the Americans off the beach with these fearsome fourteen-inch blades alone. It was a perfectly reasonable order. For thirty years British bayonets had sent the best troops in Europe fleeing for their lives. Certainly it was logical to suppose the same tactics would work against troops who had never seen those bayonets come at them, level for the thrust.

On they came and now the American position was in clear view—an insignificant pile of stones barely knee high. Hardly an impressive fortification to these tough professional soldiers. They could see the Americans crouched behind their little wall, a tall farmer standing behind them, dressed in brown, dirty-looking homespun. Not even their officers were in uniform. Now at a barked command the companies opened out as far as the beach would permit them—about fifteen men to a rank. Their bayonets went down into the charge position and with a roar the 350 picked troops, the best men in William Howe’s army surged forward, past the stake which John Stark had driven into the sand.

The Americans were led by men who had fought with the British Army in the French and Indian War. They had a decent position and a surprise for the professional redcoat:

The American barricade seemed to explode—the simultaneous crash of muskets was louder than the roar of a cannon. The two front ranks of the Welch Fusiliers were turned back as if a giant leaden fist had struck them—the metaphor is not far from the truth. Those fearful one-ounce balls smashed through the company, flinging two-thirds of them onto the sand. Incredibly the remnant tried to go forward only to meet another blast of fire, which left a bare half-dozen on their feet, bewildered and dazed.

Behind them came the men of that other tradition-proud regiment, the King’s Own. As coolly and calmly as if they were on a parade exercise, they moved through and over the dead and wounded fusiliers and plunged forward, to take ferocious revenge for the unexpectedly accurate American fire. Now was the moment when regular troops proved their superiority over amateurs. Behind the haze of musket smoke the farmers would be frantically trying to reload, in those ten simplified, but still torturous motions, when those fearsome bayonets came at their throats. But the King’s Own advanced barely fifteen yards beyond the fusiliers when they, too, were struck by a blast of lead almost as destructive, Cries of dying and wounded men echoed across the empty waters of the Mystic. ‘The remnants of the company hesitated, bewildered. Behind them, the men of the Tenth Regiment surged forward, ‘These were the tough snarling regulars who had decimated the minute company at Lexington, in spite of all Pitcairn could do to stop them. Surely they would get home with the bayonet. One volley was expected, two was possible, but three before a charge went home was unheard of in 1775. But the impossible happened there on the Mystic beach. The regulars of the ‘Tenth met the same sheet of leaden death which had laid waste the Welch Fusiliers and the King’s Own. Desperately they tried to keep moving forward but it was an impossibility. There was not enough left of the company to form a solid line.

Brave redcoats kept coming and were met with lead:

the Americans obeyed their militia training, and “took good sight,” the average rate of fire was closer to two shots a minute. Yet this still comes to some 30,000 bullets poured at William Howe and his grenadiers, in ten awful minutes.

The results were written in blood. The King’s Own Grenadiers lost all but four of their men; there were only eight of the Fifty-second’s Grenadiers left standing; in the Tenth, forty men fell. ‘The grenadiers of the Welch Fusiliers suffered as terribly here as their light infantry comrades on the beach. Forty-four out of forty-nine officers and men were flung to the earth by the murderous blasts of buck and ball pouring from the New Hampshire and Connecticut guns. On the right of the fusiliers the Thirty-fifth Light Infantry Company which had been one of the rearmost in the attack on the beach and emerged unscathed, charged into the billowing smoke before the fence and reeled back with twenty-five of its thirty privates dead or wounded. Not far away, their brother company of grenadiers was losing thirty-four officers and men.

The senior and junior officers and the veteran sergeants exposed themselves fearlessly in this maelstrom of bullets to encourage their inexperienced troops. It is hard for us to imagine a man standing upright in this fire, scorning the cover of fence or foxhole, but this was military tradition expected of every soldier in 1775. They paid a fearful price for their courage. Putnam’s old friend, James Abercromby, fell with a bullet in the body. (As his men carried him to the rear, they could hear shouts from the American lines: “Colonel Abercromby, are the Americans cowards now?” Every officer and sergeant in the Thirty-fifth Light Infant was killed or wounded, Every officer in the Tenth Grenadiers went down. Part of the reason was the explicit orders from Putnam and the other American veterans to pick off the officers in their “handsome uniforms.” It was a command the sharpshooters in the American ranks obeyed with savage aim.

2nd Charge

The Fifth and Fifty-second Regiments were bearing the brunt of the attack now, with little more than token support from the grenadiers and light infantry. Howe could not have mustered more than 600 men, and he was moving again against the solid line of 1,500 muskets; scarcely a dozen Americans had been wounded, and Putnam was still there, on his white horse now, forbidding a man to leave the line as long as he could fire a gun.

Being outnumbered was nothing new to British infantry. They came on, until the dead of the first attack could be seen in the unmown hay. This time, Howe varied his strategy just a little. The 100-yard gap between the rail fence and the breastwork became his target, rather than the bristling center of the rail fence line. There was a swamp directly in front of it, but behind it there were only the three small flèches, constructed under Gridley’s direction at the last moment. Again Howe himself led the advance, striding fearlessly at the leveled muskets. What was left of his staff courageously clustered about him, ready to receive his orders and protect him, if possible, from injury. Behind him Captain Harris and his dashing lieutenant, Lord Rawdon, led their decimated grenadier company. Not far away, Captain Evelyn of the Fifty-second, his company still fairly intact, pondered the mystery of how these cowardly Americans stopped the grenadiers. His soldiers were undoubtedly thinking the same thoughts.

For a moment, before the rail fence and the redoubt, the only sound was the roll of British drums and the shrill call of their fifes as they came forward. Thinking of their dwindling ammunition, the American officers withheld the order to fire until the scarlet line was less than thirty yards away. Then, from Breed’s Hill, down the slope to the rail fence, the Yankee voices twanged: FIRE!

Again the blast of lead tore into the first British rank. But now they expected punishment. They closed the gaps and lumbered forward, with incredible courage. Two of the five privates from the Thirty-fifth fell, and the last three still advanced. Then the grenadiers, as they swung to the left around the head of the swamp in an attempt to flank the rail fence, received their coup de grace. ‘The men in the flèches, firing from their raised bank, poured in a terrible fusillade on them which utterly annihilated any hope of their winning the fence with the bayonet; there were not enough of them left in any kind of order to make an attack. Grimly, the Fifth and the Fifty-second shoved past them at the now smoke-shrouded American line. Again through the murk the muskets flared and these regiments paid a price for their courage almost as fearful as the grenadiers. Most of the 144 enlisted men lost by the Fifth and the 100 lost by the Fifty-second fell now as they struggled through the hay toward the fatal fence, Captain Evelyn’s company was torn to shreds before his unbelieving eyes.

Third charge:

Down at the rail fence, William Howe for the third time found himself standing utterly alone. Around him grenadiers lay sprawled in the contorted postures of painful death, their elaborate bearskins gleaming blackly in the tall hay. Beside him, the last of his staff officers, the just arrived Captain Addison, lay dying with a bullet beneath the heart. The general’s beautiful white breeches were covered with ugly blotches of blood. But it was the blood of his officers and men. He was still miraculously untouched.

Desperately he pointed his sword toward the American lines, “Once more men, once more. Show them what English soldiers can do.” One last time two companies—or more correctly, two collections of companies thrown together from remnants—formed into line beside him. The American muskets blazed. Men dropped and the line wavered, stopped and a shudder ran through it as if it were a living organism. The survivors turned and fled.

A good argument made in the book is that the American Revolution was won here. Howe would not be aggressive when he had Washington’s Army trapped later in the war because of the terrible slaughter experienced at Bunker Hill:

Standing there alone, with the musket balls still whizzing around him, William Howe experienced for the first time the possibility of personal defeat, and something deeper than defeat. Throughout his military life he had been a daredevil who took the long chance and had always succeeded. He had seen men die under his command but he had never seen them slaughtered. He had seen it now. “There was a moment,” he said, “I never felt before.” Howe was not a talkative man, but there are times when untalkative men can say more in a terse sentence than a writer like Burgoyne can say in a dozen windy paragraphs.

A 5 Star read that every American should read to remind ourselves of the sacrifice made to gain our freedom.

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thomas Fleming, journalist by profession, once more makes my point that the best writers of history are not necessarily trained historians, but journalists. They know how to structure a story of factual information and describe events. Fleming's descriptions of the building of the fortifications are so vivid that I could smell the freshly dug earth and feel the sweat as if it was rolling down my own forehead and neck.

I happen to be an acquaintance of Mr. Fleming, who is a hell of a nice guy, and a terrific teller of the American story.

I have read that Ben Affleck has purchased the rights to a new book about Bunker Hill for a film. I hope that he also uses this book as a resource as well.

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent narrative history; to the point it was riveting even though I knew the outcome. Another factor that struck was the confusion, ill feeling and poor decisions made by both American and English governing bodies. I guess some things never change.

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

X The absolute sine qua non on this battle. the author did a brilliant job, both in description and analysis. His source work and research are phenomenal. his conclusions, that the battle was the last straw for both sides, is dead on. after Bunker Hill the USA was on a course of independence that was unalterable.

[Hanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Billed as the true facts of the Battle of Bunker Hill written in exciting, narrative form, this book combines the stark military tactical details with dialogue and colorful stories highlighting the stakes, and the resulting courage of the individuals involved.

The book starts with a long setup, and therefore beings quite slowly. At about the midpoint, it gets into the actual battle, and thus becomes more exciting. Even then it takes occasional breaks to discuss things like the nature of the rifles and the life of a British soldier, etc. All relevant and interesting information in its own right; the main downside was the formatting, which contained few natural breaks, giving the possible appearance of a boring dry tome.

As it was written in light of the eventual victor of the Revolutionary War, the narrative was by no means derisive or condemning of the Patriots, but the author took care to pay tribute to the British army and their talent.

From Now We are Enemies, I gleaned that the Battle of Bunker Hill (or Breed's Hill) was a series of Everything-goes-wrong events, and still, by God's grace, the goal (or at least a few key goals) were achieved. Incredible history is well to be remembered and due glory given to God who was certainly on our side.

[Maggie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great historical book that proved to be far more impactful than I anticipated. I purchased my copy from a local thrift store thinking that I should obtain a better understanding of the revolutionary war as I had missed learning much in high school. By the end of this book I realized it left me filled with emotion- not an outcome I would've guessed at.
The first half was slow going but vital information. Thomas Fleming takes a deep look at the major characters involved giving you a sense of their morals, political beliefs, and history. As the battle actually begins 3/4 of the way through, these characters you have learned so much about, drag you into the heart racing excitement as the events unfold.
Fleming's last chapter details the effects and emotions left in the battle's wake for both sides and when you close the book you realize your "educational read" turned into one of the best books you've read and has given you a hefty dose of American pride.

[David]

Reviews from the 1960 Edition of this book:

“The multi-viewed method, the apt use of quotation, the piling up of incident and the terse style, give the book a vibrant immediacy. Now We Are Enemies yields to no account in sheer interest and readability.” – The New York Times

“Brilliant…An absolute must for anyone interested in American history.” – Los Angeles Times

“The author has transformed the familiar story into a living picture of men and events, without sacrifice of truth or scholarly integrity, but with modern awareness of its purposes, its errors, and its triumph…An important and fascinating book.” – Chicago Tribune

“Fleming is to be congratulated. He has reached into the personal lives of combatants on both sides, linked these with actual historical fact, and come up with a superb book.” – Austin American-Statesman

“A whale of a good book….” – National Review

“A great battle has been given new life and glory.”– Chicago Sunday Tribune

“Drama at its best. Fleming makes mere names in a history book come alive.” – The Nashville Banner

“A narrative of sustained dramatic power and vigorous portrayal of character. Highly recommended.” – Rotarian

“Fleming says his purpose has been “to transform the story of Bunker Hill from a few pages in a history book to the magnificent drama of courage which it is. He has certainly succeeded.’
– Seattle Post Intelligencer

“Fleming makes all his readers eyewitnesses. He has recreated June 17, 1775 with vividness and truth.”—New York Herald Tribune

“The narrative is sustained and exciting, the characters wonderfully realized.” – Cleveland Press

“Painstaking research, including many letters heretofore unpublished makes characters come to life in a way not found in school books.” – The Wichita Eagle

“…a dramatic and fascinating account of a battle that changed the course of history.” – The Citizen News, Shellman. GA

“…an exciting narrative of brave men on both sides, sincere in their opposite beliefs, and loyal to those beliefs.” – The Hartford Courant

“Renewed confidence in the destiny our country is to be found in Fleming’s narrative.” – The U.S. Press Association

“Like a director with a revolving stage, the author introduces privates, sergeants, officers from ensigns to major generals who tell their particular stories of that June day, often in their own words…the whole blending into a swell of high fine courage on both sides.” – Saturday Review of Literature

[Lawrence · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fifty years ago, reviewers across America hailed "Now We Are Enemies" as a masterpiece. It still remains the most complete account of the clash that changed the course of America history—the battle of Bunker Hill. It was the first book about the battle in almost 100 years—and it marked the emergence of an author who has become widely acknowledged as the best historian of the American Revolution writing today. The book’s readability was—and still is—vividly clear from the opening pages. “Suddenly in the empty streets of Charlestown there were moving figures. In single file fifty men hugged the dark sides of the vacant houses, stopping every few feet to listen for the sound of a hostile footstep.” Across the harbor in Boston, three British major generals conferred on a plan to destroy the impromptu American army that has been besieging them. The drama’s appeal swiftly expands from suspense to profoundly human dimensions. We meet privates, sergeants, lieutenants, colonels and generals from both armies who frequently tell their stories in their own words. There are pages rich in courage—and laden with heartbreak. “For God’s sake spare that man!” shouts Colonel Israel Putnam as his men take deadly aim at a British officer. “I love him as a brother!” The British commander, General William Howe, stares numbly at his shattered bleeding ranks and experiences “a moment I never felt before.” There is only one word for such history: unforgettable.

[Kathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am not a fan of military history but Now We Are Enemies goes way beyond the strategy and the battle for an examination of the times, the issues, even the history of British uniforms and the arms of the period. In addition, Fleming brings a life and an immediacy to the leaders and soldiers on both sides.

[Rick Wong · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent book about the Battle of Bunker Hill. Used it for research paper

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is great if you love to read about history. It tells about the Battle of Bunker Hill and the men who fought it.

[Joe Owen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Outstanding read of the Battle of Bunker Hill. Interesting and easy to understand analysis of the battle.

[Dave E · Rating 4 out of 5]

A more detailed look at the Battle of Bunker Hill than I would have thought possible. Interesting and an enjoyable read.

[Len Roberto · Rating 5 out of 5]

older (1960) but easy to read and told like a fireside story- America's first true battle at Bunker Hill is explained very well here.