General News

We took a ride out to our new house site today, and were really surprised to see that it’s largely framed already. They were putting the roof trusses on when we got there today. What makes it all the more remarkable is that it was raining at the time. I am genuinely amazed at the speed with which the early phases of the construction of this house has occurred.

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Yesterday was one of the most difficult and emotionally draining days of my life. After writing what was posted last night, I just kind of sat here on the couch like a zombie. I was emotionally and mentally exhausted and could not focus on anything. I finally decided to go to bed about 10:30, and couldn’t sleep. On one hand I was spent, but on the other hand, I was too keyed up to sleep. Fortunately, the other two dogs wanted lots of love and attention last night–they lost a loved one, too–and Nero spent the whole night in bed with us.

It was just as hard at work today, trying to get back into my normal routine and focusing on the business matters that require my attention during the daytime. I was partially successful, but I kept seeing poor little Cleo laying there, and it was hard to focus. I got done what I needed to do. My partners and our staff were all wonderful–supportive and understanding, which helped me get through the day. Tonight, I’m just too drained to even think about writing. It’s a quiet evening watching TV and surfing the Web.

The problem is that Nero, at 14 months of age, is a fountain of boundless energy. He constantly wants to play, and constantly wants attention, and without Cleo to keep him occupied, it falls on Susan and me. Augie is too old to keep up with him. It’s constant and it’s nonstop.

Several months ago, we had decided that if we lost one of the older dogs, we would get another puppy as quickly as possible so that Nero would have another dog very close to his age for a playmate. Then, when the other older dog passed, we would not get a third dog again, limiting ourselves to two from then on. Seeing Nero trying to get Augie to play and his relentless pursuit of us to play only reinforced our belief. So, I called Nero’s breeder last night to see if she knew any other breeders with a litter coming up, and she indicated that, unlike last year, not all of her puppies were spoken for, that she has a litter that is ready to go home on Monday, and that she had three little girls from that litter that were available for adoption. Their bloodlines are very, very similar to Nero’s, and they will actually be cousins of his. So, we decided to go ahead and take the plunge. Our new puppy will come home on Tuesday. We have to come with a name for her that’s consistent with our Roman emperor theme. That way we will have two dogs within a handful of days of being exactly a year apart in age, and that should give Susan, Augie, and me some relief, as Nero will have a new playmate for life.

At first, I thought it might be a bit unseemly to get another puppy so quickly, but life is all about timing, and when this opportunity presented itself, we just couldn’t allow it to go by. So, even though Cleo will only have been gone a week, we will already have another puppy. The new puppy could never replace her, and I don’t expect her to. She will be her own little angel, and we will take her on her own merits.

Of course, this also means housebreaking and very sharp little puppy teeth for the second time in a year. Our existing house has almost no carpeting. Nearly all of the floors are hardwood, with some tile. Only three rooms in the house (Susan’s office and the two spare bedrooms) are carpeted. None of the rooms where we spend the majority of our time are carpeted. So, if the puppy makes a mess it will be easy enough to clean up, whereas, if we wait until we move into the new house, it will have carpeting throughout. So, that’s another benefit to doing this now instead of waiting even longer.

I will always love and miss my Cleo. But, it’s time to move on. It’s time to live life and enjoy the company of the ones we still have.

Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to pass along words of condolences. They meant a lot to both Susan and me, and they helped give me strength to face the world today. Even though I don’t actually know most of you personally–and only know you from the Internet–you are all in our prayers, and we are in all of your debt.

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Cleo came into our lives very unexpectedly in 1997. We had two dogs then—Caesar, who was three, and Augie, who was not quite two. We were content with two dogs. They entertained each other, they were great company for each other, and we could handle two without too much trouble. We were not expecting or planning on having a third.

We were getting ready to leave for a vacation, and made arrangements to board the boys with the woman who trained them. When I called to make the arrangements, she told me that she was glad that I had called, that she was going to call me, and that she had a beautiful year-old female golden retriever who needed a home. Susan and I both agreed that we needed a third dog like we needed large holes in our heads and we said no, thanks.

When we dropped the boys off at her house, she said, “You have to at least meet her.” She went downstairs, got her, and within thirty seconds, the three dogs were attached at the hip, playing and running and chasing. By the end of our vacation, we didn’t have the heart to separate them, and she came home with us. That first night, she was a total spaz—hyper, and into everything. She kept us up most of the night. Then, the next day, she went into heat. That was a real joy. We looked at each other and wondered if we had made a mistake. Fortunately, she settled down quickly.

Her original name—given by her first owner—was Brandy, but it definitely didn’t suit her personality. We changed it to Cleopatra, Queen of the Scioto, or Cleo for short. She was definitely a queen bee, and it really fit. Within a couple of days, she knew her new name. The boys loved her, and after Caesar died and we got Nero just over a year ago, she quickly became his favorite playmate/chew toy.

Cleo thought that she was a ferocious watchdog. She would bark at anything bold enough to stray its way into the yard, be it leaf, squirrel, or stray piece of paper. It was her job to protect the house, and she did so, tail wagging the whole time. The neighbors next door got a tiny, adorable Cavalier King Charles puppy—who weighs maybe four pounds—and Cleo, the ferocious 84 pound golden retriever, would bark at this tiny interloper. We always laughed about it.

At the same time, she was a sweet girl, very loving and very gentle. Almost from the moment we brought her home, she was my baby. She only wanted to be with me, to be loved on by me, and to be near me. She had this silly toy—literally a ball with legs and feet—and it was her baby. She took it everywhere with her. Her favorite thing in the world was to fetch ball with feet, and I had made the mistake of teaching her to bark to tell me to throw the ball. Needless to say, there was a LOT of barking around here.

The poor baby must have come from a puppy mill—we know almost nothing of her pedigree—because she had nothing but one health problem after another. Fourteen months ago, she had surgery to remove a stage three mast cell cancer tumor from her side, and we knew then that we were on borrowed time with her. We made sure to enjoy every minute with her, to play with and love her as much as possible, and to cherish this time that we knew we shouldn’t have.

That borrowed time ran out yesterday. During the night on Monday night, she apparently had a stroke. When I tried to get her to go outside yesterday morning, she had a lot of trouble getting down the steps, and she lay down in the back yard. This was a girl who always had a weight problem because she would eat anything not nailed down, and the idea of her not coming in to eat worried me. When I got her back inside, she refused to eat, which was very unlike her. Not realizing anything serious was wrong, I went back upstairs, and she eventually followed me up. When I went back down for my breakfast and to let them out, she was noticeably limping and having trouble, and I had to help her down the steps.

When Susan got home from work yesterday afternoon, she noticed that Cleo was showing the same signs of stroke that her own mother had shown—weakness, sagging facial features, lethargy. She called the vet, and we took her in. We left her over night for observation, and Susan brought her home this afternoon. The vet wanted to see if she might improve in her own surroundings, so she brought her home, but her condition had deteriorated. Susan practically had to carry to get her to move. She wouldn’t eat, and she was exhausted.

Finally, we made the decision that we dreaded. We knew she was on borrowed time, and the poor thing had had so many surgeries that the last thing we wanted for her was for her to have to suffer. We had decided that if it came down to keeping her a little longer or ending her suffering, we were going to end her suffering. So, we made the inevitable but necessary decision and I carried her to the car and she went for her last ride. We held her and petted her as she shuffled off this mortal coil. She left us quietly and peacefully and is now in a better place. Once again, she’s playing with Caesar, young, healthy, happy, and frolicking.

There’s a new angel in heaven tonight. I miss you already, Cleo. And I will see you again some day. Wait for me.

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I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor’s office until tomorrow afternoon, so I don’t have a formal medical diagnosis. However, thirty years of unpleasant experience with sinus infections tells me that the symptoms I’m experiencing are those of a nasty sinus infection and not just the common cold. I felt so bad today that I actually left the office at 12:30 and came home, which is something I never do–I think I had one sick day in 2005, and then it was the flu. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus–did anybody get its number?–and am in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. Hopefully, starting antibiotics tomorrow will get me back on the road to feeling like myself again.

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Well, I seem to have come down with either a really bad cold, or, potentially worse, a sinus infection. I feel atrocious as I write this. My head feels like it’s in a vice, and my sinuses are pounding. So, please forgive me if I don’t write much for the next few days until I get to feeling better. Thanks for understanding.

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Hat tip to Dimitri Rotov for first pointing this out.

Richard F. Miller, the author of an excellent recent regimental history of the so-called “Harvard Regiment”, also known as the 20th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, and who is a regular reader of this blog, works in radio news.

Richard will shortly be leaving for the hellhole of Iraq, where he will be serving as an embedded reporter with U. S. Army forces. As Dimitri points out, Richard will begin podcasting stories from the front soon. This will not be Richard’s first trip, and I can only hope that he will return to us safely and soundly, and that he stays out of harm’s way. Keep your head down, and your kevlar on, Richard. And please drop us a line from time to time while you’re over there and let us know that you’re safe and sound. We’ll miss you, and you will be in all of our prayers.

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In an earlier post, I noted that when Brian Pohanka’s estate announced that substantial gifts had been left to two battlefield preservation groups, the Civil War Preservation Trust was missing from that list, and I wondered aloud whether that absence was a sign that perhaps Brian was unhappy with the way things had gone with the CWPT. It turns out that there was much more to it than met the eye.

Yesterday, Jim Campi of the CWPT called to discuss a variety of things with me, most notably the incident a couple of weeks ago when someone from the Morris Island Coalition used the comments to this blog to launch personal attacks on Dimitri Rotov because the poster does not agree with Dimitri’s opinions about the CWPT. However, in the course of that conversation with Jim, he let me know that there was going to be a public announcement today regarding Brian’s gifts to the CWPT.

Here is that press release, which was provided to me by Jim yesterday:

“(Washington, D.C.) – In a statement released today, the Civil War Preservation Trust (CWPT) announced a major gift from the estate of historian and ardent preservationist Brian C. Pohanka, who passed away in June 2005. In his will, Pohanka left CWPT – with whom he has been associated since its earliest days – a bequest totaling $1 million earmarked for land acquisition.

In acknowledging the gift, CWPT President James Lighthizer said that the donation is telling of the innumerable contributions Pohanka made to the cause of historic preservation over the years.

‘From the very beginnings of the Civil War battlefield preservation movement, Brian Pohanka led the charge. He not only gave of his time and talents, but frequently and generously reached into his wallet as well. We at Civil War Preservation Trust are proud to carry on the work he began nearly two decades ago.’

Pohanka’s generosity to battlefield preservation was unequalled. In addition to the $1 million bequest, he and his wife Cricket quietly donated an equal amount to CWPT in 2004. Over the years, Pohanka gave generously to both CWPT and countless other local battlefield preservation groups – in his will, he also set aside money for the Central Virginia Battlegrounds Trust ($500,000), the Richmond Battlefields Association ($500,000), and the Save Historic Antietam Foundation ($200,000).

In recognition for Pohanka’s outstanding contributions to battlefield preservation, in 2004 he was named CWPT’s Preservationist of the Year during ceremonies in Nashville, Tenn. At the ceremony, one of Brian’s last public appearances, he urged the preservation community to continue the struggle to save this nation’s irreplaceable hallowed battlegrounds.

Cricket Bauer Pohanka, who recently agreed to join CWPT’s Board of Trustees, said she is confident that the bequest would be used to create a legacy of which he would be proud. ‘Brian placed an immense value on the preservation of our Civil War battlefields,’ she said, ‘and to see the sites he so cared about perpetually protected will be a fitting tribute to his life and his work.’

According to Lighthizer, Brian was frequently quoted as saying the inspiration for his tireless efforts was the idea that a century from now a child might become as interested in the Civil War as Brian was in his own youth. That child, he said, must still have the opportunity to visit our battlefields, our hallowed grounds, and absorb their lessons. ‘With this gift, Brian has truly made that vision a reality, giving us the power to protect more of that ground for generations yet to come.’

Lighthizer concluded his remarks by stating: ‘Author, living historian, preservationist, consultant, friend; Brian touched us and our work in so many ways. He is truly missed, but we will make sure that his dedication and his contributions will not be forgotten.’

With 75,000 members, CWPT is the largest nonprofit battlefield preservation organization in the United States. Its mission is to preserve our nation’s remaining Civil War battlefields. Since 1987, the organization has saved more than 22,000 acres of hallowed ground. CWPT’s website is located at www.civilwar.org.”

A few months before he died, Brian told me that once he was gone, we would learn of steps he had taken with respect to battlefield preservation, but didn’t elaborate. Knowing him as I did, I knew better than to ask; if he had wanted me to know, he would have told me. Given that Brian was one of the three founders of APCWS–the predecessor to the CWPT–I was genuinely surprised to hear that no gift had been announced for the CWPT after Brian’s passing.

Yesterday, Jim Campi told me about the two $1 million gifts, and we both had the same reaction–this was so typical of Brian–unfailingly generous, but unfailingly avoiding ANY hint of publicity about it, as Brian felt that doing so was unseemly. $2 million will buy a lot of land. While it’s difficult to define precisely what Brian’s legacy is, this is probably the most tangible and most important aspect of it.

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I wanted to let everyone know that I have an incredibly busy week doing lawyer stuff this week–something significant every day this week–and hence may not have time to post much this week. I hope I will be forgiven for permitting my job to get in the way of my hobby. I hate it when that happens.

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Here are a couple of updates on a couple of things….

1. Ted Savas informed me today that the release date for my book on the Battle of Monroe’s Crossroads is the third week in March. The book is at the printer. It’s also under review by the History Book Club for an alternative book of the month selection. I will keep folks posted as the date draws near.

2. I’ve been fighting the neo-Confederate wars again today on my forum boards. I think I’ve won this particular battle, but what a waste of valuable time and energy. As I said here previously, I will never stop fighting these battles.

That’s it for now. There will, undoubtedly, be more to come….

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Kevin Levin responded to yesterday’s post on military history in a social hisstory world. Thanks for reading Kevin, and thanks also for taking the time to formulate a thoughtful response. I wanted to respond to a couple of issues raised by Kevin.

First, Kevin said: “Firstly, I hope Eric has more to say surrounding his comment on Rable’s Fredericksburg study. Given that the book won a number of important scholarly awards from reputable institutions it is hard to take seriously the conclusion that it ‘fails to provide a complete view of either the military or social aspects.'” Here’s the response you asked for, Kevin. Your own point–that it has won scholarly awards from institutions–suggests to me that you’re referring to awards by academic institutions. If so, then it’s just furthering my own point, which is that it’s endemic of academic institutions turning their collective snoots up at military history.

As to the specifics, I am far from the only critic to point out that Rable’s treatment of the military aspects–the battle itself–is secondary to the social aspects of the book and that the discussion of the battle is lacking in detail. See the reviews on Amazon.com if you want examples of what I’m talking about here.

My own preference is for Frank O’Reilly’s excellent book, which provides what I believe is the appropriate degree of social history to place the military aspects into their proper context in a traditional, but very well done, campaign study.

Second, I think you’ve misunderstood me a bit, and in re-reading my post, I must claim responsibility for it. I didn’t express myself as well as I might have liked. What I meant to say is that to the extent that understanding the motivations of the fignting man is necessary and important for me to properly do my work, then social history interests me. Beyond that, however, reading books that constitute purely social history is of no interest to me at all. In point of fact, I find them boring as hell, and gave up trying to read them long ago unless they’re something really exceptional.

As to the issues of race and slavery that fascinate you, I find them much less interesting and much less compelling. While I understand that these issues are there as an underlying current, they are not central to what interests me at all. These issues are clearly critical to understanding HOW things got to the point where brothers shed the blood of their own brothers. I get that. However, my interests fall to the tactical level–my interest really begins with the situation once the armies are met on the field of battle. And there, those issues are not much more than vague underlying themes that have little role in understanding why a commander made a tactical decision and how that tactical decision played out. Those are the issues that interest me.

As to the bigger problem, I don’t necessarily disagree with you. I also think that Andy MacIsaac also makes some excellent points in his discussion of this issue. Andy is right, of course, that to some extent the two disciplines are inseparable and that we need both. That, in turn, brings me back to my original point: why do the academic historians turn their collective snoots up at military history? If Karl von Clausewitz was correct–and I firmly believe he was–in believing that war is politics by other means, then isn’t military history a logical extension of both political science and social history?

And if that’s true, then my original question stands and remains unanswered: why is that the academic historians treat military history as a red-headed stepchild?

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