The Citizen Soldier and National Security

On a recent business trip to California, I stayed for a couple of nights at Cavallo Point, on the premises of now-closed Fort Baker, at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County.  Here is the parade ground:

No Revolutionary War battles were fought in California, and Fort Baker dates back at best only to 1850 when President Millard Fillmore created The Lime Point Military Reservation.  What caught my eye, though, was this plaque on the parade ground:

The plaque sets forth the dates 1775-1975 and the headline "Citizen-"Soldier," and then tells us that it commemorates the bicentennial of the United States Army.  It further states that "when a citizen-soldier sees our national flag, he sees not the flag but our nation." 

Colonial leaders, if not Americans in general at the time, had a deep concern about a standing army, but American military leaders like Washington and Henry Knox knew that such a Continental army, as opposed to militia, was necessary.  It is interesting to revisit the debate in the context of current defense by the NSA and the American president over the necessity of centralized control, including invasions of privacy, in the name of national security.  The old fears return to roost in the brave new digital world.  The difference though is that the notion of citizen-soldier invokes a "bottom up" mindset for defense, with the emphasis on citizen and democratic participation, as opposed to a "top down" assertion of what is necessary for the country.

John Witherspoon and the Warrior Clerics

John Witherspoon, a Scottish Presbyterian Minister, became president of The College of New Jersey (as Princeton University was then known) in 1768.  Affected by continued assertion of British Episcopacy in the Colonies, Witherspoon became caught up in the Revolutionary fervor of the times; in 1774 he joined the Committee of Correspondence and Safety.  In 1776, he was the only active cleric (as well as university president) to sign the Declaration of Independence.  He served in the Continental Congress as well as the New Jersey Legislature.  Here he is, memorialized today on the campus of Princeton University:

In Massachusetts, another cleric, Reverend Jonas Clark wrote the inscription for the monument that today stands marking the Battle of Bunker Hill and among other things, said: “The Blood of these Martyrs In the Cause of God and their Country Was the Cement of the Union and these State, then Colonies, and gave the spring to the spirit, firmness, and resolution of their Fellow-Citizens. They rose as one man to revenge their Brethren’s Blood, and at the Point of the Sword, to Assert and Defend their native Rights.” Witherspoon, when challenged in 1776 that the country was "not yet ripe" for independence, Witherspoon responded, "in my judgment, sir, we are not only ripe, but rotting."

Other men of the cloth were firebrands for the Revolution, and some paid with their lives.  It is interesting to reflect on this early role of the clergy in the formation of the American republic and the encouragement of war to achieve it, as we contemplate the rise of non-secular governments and the role of clergy in nation-building today.

Joshua Huddy and the Character of Retaliation

Captain Joshua Huddy, commander of the garrison at Toms River, New Jersey, that was destroyed by the British on March 24, 1782, was hung unceremoniously by the British after his capture, resulting in the 18th century equivalent of an international incident.  He is buried at Tennent Church near the Monmouth Battlefield.

Numerous depositions were obtained and presented to Washington, who on April 21, 1782, wrote an incensed letter to British General Henry Clinton, threatening repercussions if the British did not punish their own.  Unsatisfied with Clinton's response, on May 3, 1782, Washington ordered General Moses Hazen to choose by lot a British officer--a captain if one was available, if not, a lieutenant, either in Pennsylvania or Maryland--for execution.  Ultimately, a man was selected but Washington did not go through with the execution, following international intervention.

During World War II, on January 1, 1945 at Chenogne, Belgium, American troops killed 25 or more German prisoners in retaliation for the execution of 80 American prisoners at Malmedy by German Waffen-SS troops on December 17, 1944.

 As contemptible and violative of the rule of law as the acts were that led to the execution of Huddy by the Loyalists, even if under supervision of the British, it is a telling aspect of the American character that "an eye for eye" justice, even at the expense of the innocent, was even considered.  As we see in the Chenogne and Malmedy massacres, the behavior did not end in the eighteenth century.

The "First" First Battle

     I was recently in North Carolina and visited the battlefield at Alamance.  The generally accepted first battle of the Revolution was the encounter at Lexington, and later that day, where the "shot heard round the world" was fired, at Concord.  In North Carolina, however, a plaque on the statue of James Hunter on the Alamance battlefield proclaims "The Battle of the Alamance: The first battle of the Revolutionary War was fought in Orange County, North Carolina, May 16, 1771."

     There still appears some debate over the classification of Alamance as a Revolutionary War battle or not.  On the one hand, there were similarities between the Regulators' objections to a lack of representation and certain taxation.  And although some claim that they were simply seeking reform, and not independence, there were many at the time of Lexington and Concord who also were fighting to establish and uphold their rights, rather than create a new country.  On the other hand, this was not an action directed at the King or Parliament, but the local provincial government, and they were not facing off against what was, essentially in 1775, an occupying force.  

     Whatever.  The ghosts of the era wander here still.

Petersburg, Revolutionary War Sites and Vandalism

     Take a look at this.

     This is a plaque in Petersburg, Virginia, titled "The Battle at the Bridge." On April 25, 1781, British forces under joint command of William Phillips and the now-British general Benedict Arnold defeated the outnumbered American militia.  A delaying action was fought here at the Pocahontas Bridge while the Americans crossed the Appomattox River.  More about this battle in later posts.

     But one vandal, or perhaps a small group of vandals, thought it would be worthwhile to deface this marker.  About a tenth of a mile away is another marker, but all that remains of that is the rusted metal stand.      In New Jersey, another such marker--an older one--was long ago removed from its boulder for the metal.  There used to be four explanatory plaques like this at Ash Swamp in New Jersey noting the battle of Short Hills; those are gone as well.  While the information can be retrieved at hmdb.com (historical marker data base dot com), the nice thing about these markers is you can stand in the place, gain some insight, look around, and realize you are there.  It takes one person to do this, and what government official wants to spend money to fix it, knowing it will only be destroyed again?

     I suppose one could argue this is also a learning experience, that there were destructive elements at the time (this is nothing next to the tarring and feathering that went on), but one has to wonder what was gained by this? It's a small thing, perhaps--it's just a plaque.  Who cares? Well, someone took the time to design it, write it, and install it.  Someone thought it important.  It may take a village to raise a child, but it only takes one person to ruin a city's cultural and historical experience.

Pulaski, Kosciuszko and Memorials

     Casimir Pulaski, like his Polish compatriot Tadeusz Kościuszko, not only achieved renown in fighting on the American side in the Revolutionary War, but both also have bridges named for them.  Kościuszko survived the war to carry his fight back to Europe for Poland.  Pulaski died as a result of wounds at Savannah, Georgia.  Kościuszko actually has 2 bridges named for him-a truss bridge spanning Newtown Creek between Queens and Brooklyn, and one across the Mohawk River carrying I-87 connecting Albany and Saratoga counties in New York.  But Pulaski has the pair of cantilever bridges connecting Newark to Jersey City.

     I was in DC on business and leaving the DC government building saw the statue.  I was surprised to see Egg Harbor listed in the base of the statue together with Brandywine and Valley Forge; on the other side of the base are listed Charleston, Germantown and Savannah.  Egg Harbor, which engagement is also known as Chestnut Neck, is marked by obscure memorials to both the engagement and Pulaski.  But the Pulaski Skyway-an elegant feat of engineering-is an iconic part of the New Jersey urban landscape.  Never married, dead in his early 30s, but his name persists in the Meadowlands of New Jersey.

Battle of the Clouds and the Great "What If"

     From September 15 through 16, 1777, 10,000 Americans faced nearly twice their number, 18,000 Hessians and British regulars.  Washington's troops formed a three mile line in the Great Valley, not far from Valley Forge, with its center around what is now Immaculata University, facing King Road.

     On the 16th, Casimir Pulaski's cavalry supported by light infantry, advanced, and were pushed back by Cornwallis' own light infantry units, towards the center/left of the American line.  On the American right, American generals Wayne and Maxwell skirmished with Knyphausen's Hessians, and were forced to withdraw.  Before the British could pursue their advantage, severe rainfall ended the engagement.  Reports vary as to casualty counts.

     I like this image because it actually features cloud cover over a portion of the battlefield area, viewed from the American position.  While it is easy, perhaps, to dismiss this as a non-battle, the number of troops involved and the near-defeat and subsequent escape of Washington's army from another defeat, so soon after Brandywine, poses intriguing "what if" questions.  Despite this, there are virtually no markers or explanatory plaques; I met the man who now lives in the building that was the Three Tun Tavern at the time who pointed to a localized marker on the property, but no state recognition.  Driving around this battlefield requires a fair amount of work to try to comprehend the scope of what almost was.