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20
Jul 15

Walking amidst rocks

I had occasion to visit a country cemetery about the same time the really silly parts of the Confederate flag conversation was going on. It is the kind of place where, standing in the center, you can see the cemetery was carved out of otherwise unused land. You don’t hear anything except the breeze and, occasionally, some far distance heavy machinery. You can’t even see the country road off which you turned onto the gravel path to get there. It is a pretty and peaceful place and in a part of the world where you still refer to people by a plural version of their family name.

The cemetery sits most of the way up a rolling part of a tiny, tiny foothill in the southern Appalachians, in a part of the region that, during the Civil War, was as confusing and complicated as any other. Most of the people that lived in this part of the world then weren’t even secessionists. Historically, you would find, that many of them saw the entire conflict as a war of the men that lived in other parts of the South. In this part of the world, then, things could get particularly personal and bitter. Supporters of both sides had violent conscription efforts terrifying families.

In fact, on one side of my family the young men tried to stay out of the war, but were eventually enlisted to the Union’s cause when their soldiers came through. On the other side of my family there are at least some documented Confederates and these people all lived within 30 or so miles of one another. This sort of thing was not uncommon in that area.

Anyway, the cemetery would have been a great opportunity to write another navel-gazing essay about the way of things. Near one entrance to the cemetery was the marker of this man, who I am not related to:

Someone placed a Confederate flag there.

To the left was an entire line of James Fleming’s family buried right alongside. A few generations and not many more plots away you read that some of his descendants served in later wars. And beside their markers someone had placed American flags.

Livingstone’s 8th Cavalry, by the way, was organized late in the war, reporting to duty in the summer of 1864 and fought in Alabama and Florida before surrendering at Gainesville the next year.

The TL:DR aspect of the essay would be that, for some people, this is complicated. That got lost in the heated rhetoric in the long-overdue move to take those flags from government land, which is probably fine. And it seems dismissed entirely in the even deeper rhetoric of that imagery in general, and that seems simultaneously good and a shame. For some people it is complicated.

Nearby here is another old cavalry man:

The 4th Alabama cavalry was formed in 1863 and fought in east Tennessee, Mississippi and all over north and central Alabama. They were essentially a hyperactive home guard before many of them were captured at Selma in the spring of 1865.

And I just put this one here because I like the name:

Ollice was a farmer before World War II. He had some grammar school under his belt. He was enlisted at Fort McClellan, in Anniston, a week before Pearl Harbor. That’s all I can find about him online.

Next time I’m in that area I’ll have to ask around. There are still plenty of McNatts in that area.

adventures / history / London / maps / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
16
Jul 15

The tank banks

I saw this piggy bank at Stonehenge. At the time I had no idea about the history behind it, which is, like most history, rather interesting.

It comes from a World War 1 British fund raising campaign. Six tanks toured the countryside promoting war bonds. You have to remember this is in the fall of 1917 and tanks were still the high end of war marvels. The public was fascinated to see in person what they were just starting to read about.

The tank rolled in with soldiers and artillery alongside. Airplanes dropped pamphlets, speeches were made. The tank was put through its paces before spending several days in the town with a table inside where people were giving money. They raised millions of pounds, nationally. Soon a competition emerged to see which place could raise the most money and “win” a tank. West Hartlepool would win and Egbert — they do know how to name things, don’t they? — stayed in the town until it was scrapped in 1937.

After the war was over, the government gave 264 tanks to towns and cities in 1919. Most just rusted out over time and sold for scrap. All but one was gone before the end of World War II. The town of Ashford still has their tank, the only one left. It is now a registered war memorial, though without its engine or gearbox and with replica armaments. You can see the tank here:

That tank, one of 1,200 Mark IVs the British built for that particular war, is thought to have never seen combat. Only eight remain. The Mark IV carried a crew of eight and traveled at seven miles per hour.

adventures / Belgium / history / links / memories / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off
8
Jul 15

Daydreaming of Belgium

(Still more extra stuff from Brussels.)

There we were, sitting outside the beautiful St. Michael and St. Gudula Cathedral.

People have been worshipping perhaps as far back as the ninth century. This building went up between the 13th and 16th centuries. The stained glass windows and confessionals are that old. Just think of it. That place was old when the U.S. was new.

Don’t worry. We went inside. I produced a little video. You can see it here.

adventures / Germany / history / memories / Monday / photo — Comments Off
6
Jul 15

Two things about dining in Berlin

(This is extra material from our trip to Germany because it is summertime and our trip was grand.)

The food was very inexpensive. That’s the first thing. We went to a few places where the bottled water — which you do pay for — costed as much as the food. The grocery store was pretty cheap too.

The second thing we learned while eating at A Magica, a pizza place, on the suggestion of a friend. Germans eat their pizza with fork and knives. All of them. Sometimes you have to use a fork. I’ve done it. You’ve done it. No shame in it. To see an entire restaurant doing it was a bit unnerving.

Nearby the pizza parlor was Gethsemane Church, built in 1893:

The architect here used both Romanesque Revivalism with round arch windows and neo-Brick Gothic with traceries and rib vaults in the construction. His work wasn’t damaged during World War II, and there is a plate commemorating the German resistance against the Nazi government. Like many churches, this one was a meeting place for East Germans opposed to that government. The statue in the foreground is the Benedictive Christ, previously stood at the former Church of Reconciliation. That church was destroyed by the East German government in 1985 to make more space for the Berlin Wall. Since reunification it has been a central locale of civil rights groups and peace movements.

Just down the street was a cool sign for a burger joint:

I wonder how they eat those.

adventures / Germany / history / memories / Monday / photo — Comments Off
22
Jun 15

Alexandrovka the Russian colony in Potsdam, Germany

(Extra material from our trip to Germany.)

The Prussian army was fighting Napoleon’s French armies in 1812. Prussia was conquered. The Prussians lined up with Russians in 1813. There was a bit of an embarrassing problem, though, since about 1,000 Russian troops as prisoners in Potsdam.

Whoops.

Of those men, 62 stayed.

Back at the palace, King Frederick William III loved him some music. From those 62 he formed a Russian choir from his “guests.” The choir would stay in Potsdam, with Tsar Alexander I’s blessing, as a sign of the renewed friendship between the two countries.

The Tsar died in 1825. To the west, the Prussian king decided to pay tribute to the Tsar and choir by building a village for the 12 remaining members. A Prussian landscaper and a Russian architect got the job of building it all. Modeled after the Russian village of Glosovo near St. Petersburg, each house was built in Russian style. They were furnished and each had a garden and they the men all received a cow as well. The Prussians really wanted them to stay.

A Russian Orthodox church dedicated to St. Alexander Nevsky (Tsar Alexander’s patron saint) was built nearby.

The last of the original inhabitants died in 1861. Today, most of the houses have private owners and most of them have been restored. One is now a restaurant, another is a museum. One still belongs in the family of one of the Russian soldier-singers who decided to stay in Potsdam 190 years ago.

Problem was, those first residents weren’t making a lot of cash and weren’t really farmers. So there were lean years. Only two of them had learned a profession, others rented out their places and quite of few of them died in huge debt.

There is said to be a great deal of agricultural history in this little community, as well. At one time 500-year-old fruit trees were said to be in place. (I find this to be a romantic notion, but hard to believe. Most of the fruits they grow in the area are from trees that just don’t live that long and the apple tree life span would be a long shot.) Hundreds of apple varieties were grown in the area. Today they harvest about 20 varieties. Huge numbers of cherries, pear and plum varieties were also grown here.