Category Archives: The Civil War

George’s luck holds


George was young and very green. Finding his brother Charley was a joyful moment, but also an eye-opener into the realities of War. His big, strong older brother looked nothing like his memories of the smart looking soldier going off to War. This Charley was wretched in a ragged poorly patched uniform. His hat was stained, battered and full of bullet holes. His neat beard now resembled a filthy birds nest. His toes were wrapped in cloth peeking out from the front of his worn out boots. But the worst thing of all were his eyes. He had the haunted eyes that only belong to a man who has lived through war.

George was determined to make his brother’s life a little bit easier. He sang and told jokes and thought of ways to lighten the load of his company. He listened to his fellow soldiers as they talked about the things they missed most from home and soon an idea formulated in his head.

On one extended march, George was getting tired and upon spying  mule in a field he grabbed at his first opportunity. Riding the mule a few miles he spotted a farmhouse where he commenced his first raid returning with a box of eggs and tobacco.  He was the hero of his regiment and from that day forward he became a keen forager bringing a little joy into the lives of these war weary men.

In his words:

That successful raid gave me courage, and I began to think that was what I was destined for, and I liked it first-rate, for it was a pleasure to me to see those poor, hungry boys have any delicacy, or even enough of ordinary food.
After tramping an hour I was rewarded by seeing a calf. I drew my revolver, sneaked up and fired at poor bossy. It dropped—I was a good shot—but when I reached the poor beast I found it was as poor as a rail and covered with sores as big as my hand. I was disappointed, but cut off as much as I could that was not sore, and took it to camp. We put the kettles on the fires in short order, and my brother’s company had fresh meat broth—the first fresh meat in a month—and I tell you it was good even if it had been sore. After that episode Company H claimed me and dubbed me their mascot. I accepted the position, and from that time forth I devoted my time to foraging, stealing anything I could for my company, and I doubt if there was a company in the whole army that fared better than ours, for I was always successful in my expeditions.

George brought a little light into the dark world of war for company H. But how would he fare in one of the bloodiest and most infamous battles of the Civil War?

Next up, the Battle of Cold Harbor,VA.



George Ulmer’s first Civil War battle

George, age 14 has followed his older brother’s lead and enlisted as a Union soldier in the Civil War. After several weeks as a corporal’s orderly he begs to be sent off to fight. Little did he know what he was asking for. By the end of the war, the Eighth Maine regiment had lost a total of 381 men out of the 1586 who had enrolled. 6 officers and 128 enlisted men were killed or mortally wounded. 4 officers and 243 enlisted men died of disease. Another 355 men were wounded and 35 ended up in confederate prisons.

Blindly, George boarded an open barge heading South. The thought of finding his beloved brother Charley kept him warm on that bitterly cold ride through the Chesapeake Bay. That evening they passed Fort Monroe up the James River and after a restless night they were awoken to the sound of gunfire. They pulled alongside a gunboat whose Captain informed them to land immediately at Fort Powhatan.

They landed on the beach without any weapons as they had not yet met up with their new regiment. They were told that a regiment of 200 African American troops led by Fitzhugh Lee were trying to hold the fort. As George and his fellow recruits had no weapons they were ordered to rush yelling into the thick of the battle in the hopes of making the enemy fear that a huge battalion of recruits had arrived.

George though cut and bleeding was lucky enough to be rescued from the sand by General Smith who made him his orderly. His new position as orderly meant that he had to carry dispatches across the field of battle with bullets whizzing past his small frame.

In his memoirs he writes:

I believe I was so small that I rode between those bullets, and from that time forth I had no fear. I felt as though I were bullet-proof. I felt as if it were ordained that I should go through the war unscathed and unscarred. It did seem so, for I would go through places where it rained bullets, and come out without a scratch. This was my experience all through, and was commented on by comrades, who said I had a charmed life. 

Charmed life or not, George survived his first battle but very quickly his heroic dreams had been tarnished by the realities of war. He and his fellow battle weary survivors were sent downstream towards City Point to finally rendezvous with the Eighth Maine, Company H. At approximately 10:00 that evening they landed on a dark shore with no one to greet them or give them orders. In the distance, gunfire  lit up the night sky. Taking this to be the Front, George heedlessly ran towards the light hoping to have found Charley at last. He writes:

I asked the first man I came to where the Eighth Maine was? He looked at me in perfect astonishment. “This is the Eighth, what’s left of it.” I asked him if he knew where my brother was–Charley Ulmer? “Oh, yes,” he said, and pointing to a little group of men, who were round a wee bit of a fire; “there he is, don’t you know him?” I hesitated, for really I could hardly tell one from the other. He saw my bewilderment, and took me by the arm and led me over to the fire. They all started and stared at me, and to save my life I could not tell which was my brother; but one more ragged than the rest uttered a suppressed cry, rushed forward, and throwing his arm about my neck, sobbed and cried like a child. “My God! my brother! Oh George, George, why did you come here?”  

And so, in the Civil War battle of brother against brother, Lizzie May’s step-brothers had found comfort in each other  so many miles from home. 

Next up, does George’s luck hold?


Eighth Maine Regiment off to War

Could the young drummer in front be George T Ulmer?

The Eighth Maine Regiment Band at their Headquarters in Beaufort, SC.

Eight year old Lizzie May’s days are long without her favorite step-brother to keep her company.

George however, had stars in his eyes. While in Portland waiting for his orders he decides to visit a tailor. Excited about the prospect of thrilling battles ahead, he decides to have a handsome new uniform made. After all, he couldn’t go to war looking like a beggar in his over-sized clothes!  As a 14 year old recruit completely wet behind the ears George was ignorant of uniform regulations. He just knew that it needed to be blue.

In his memoirs he writes:

He only knew the colors and knew that I wanted it nice and handsome. He made it and so covered it over with gold braid and ornaments, that you could not tell whether I was a drum-major or a brigadier-general; 

I was summoned before the colonel in command. He asked, what I was? I told him I didn’t know yet–would not know ’till I reached my regiment. He had a hearty laugh at my appearance; said I ought to be sent to some fair instead of the front. 

George’s uniform may have been a joke but his next assignment was not.

Next: George sees battle for the first time.

Saying good-bye

I get a chuckle out of the image of 14 year old George trotting along on his old mare in a state of excited bliss. His chest puffed with pride in his new uniform which was three sizes too big. Pants rolled into his boots, cloak flopping over his saddle, his too large hat obscuring his view as he rode proud as a peacock back to the farm. Just as my boys play dress-up as their favorite superhero, George seemed to be playing dress-up as a soldier.

He arrived home on one of those breathtaking days that only early fall in New England can claim. It was the 17th of September when he rounded the corner to see his family waiting for him. They had been alerted by the stage-driver that George had successfully enlisted and been mustered in.

Lizzie May and her mother had been crying but their tears turned to giggles as they caught sight of their young “soldier”. He looked more like a rag-a-muffin than a soldier, a pile of clothes atop a broken down mare.  They told themselves that no outfit would ever accept him and that George would be sent straight home. Even so, Lizzie continued her plaintive pleas to her favorite step-brother begging him not to go. It was one thing to lose Charley, but George too?

In his memoirs George wrote:

“And father said, after looking me all over:”Well, if they have mustered you in, after they see you in that uniform it will be muster out, my boy”

But George was not only mustered in, he received his orders to report to Augusta,Maine. This just proves how desperate the War had turned. Men were dying in great numbers from battle and disease. New recruits were eagerly sought and immediately sent off.

And so, on September 27th, 1863 George T Ulmer age 14 bid a tearful farewell to his family with his head filled with notions of heroism.

[As an aside, there is a wonderful Civil War Museum in Maine that documents the heroism of George and Charley’s 8th regiment . It is called the Eight Maine Regiment Memorial which is a living museum and lodge. According to their website, the Memorial building was the summer vacation home for veterans of the Civil War who fought in the 8th Maine Regiment as well as their families. William Miltmore McArthur, a Colonel of the Regiment, donated the funds to purchase the land and to build the hall]
Please visit their website for more information.