Honoring the Dead at Shiloh

Happy Memorial Day. May it be equal parts reflective and joyful.

In that vein, Charlie and I, while on the road for a confidential project, had the opportunity to visit Shiloh and pay our respects. The rows of graves overlooking the Tennessee River landing were as individually silent as they were deafening in their sheer number.

Standing among the graves, Charlie began reciting the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald:

Then consider Herman Melville’s “Shiloh: A Requiem“:

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,

      The swallows fly low

Over the field in clouded days,

      The forest-field of Shiloh—

Over the field where April rain

Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain

Through the pause of night

That followed the Sunday fight

      Around the church of Shiloh—

The church so lone, the log-built one,

That echoed to many a parting groan

            And natural prayer

      Of dying foemen mingled there—

Foemen at morn, but friends at eve—

      Fame or country least their care:

(What like a bullet can undeceive!)

      But now they lie low,

While over them the swallows skim,

      And all is hushed at Shiloh.

For those of you who know the forever hush of a combat loss, thank you for what your family has sacrificed in our defense.