Lest We Forget

Arlington National Cemetery: Tomb of the Unknowns

From a distance, Tavish witnesses the ceremony underway at the Tomb of the Unknowns. Sentinels from the Third U.S. Infantry headquartered at Fort Myer maintain a round-the-clock vigil. Guard changes occur every hour (and every 1/2 hour from April 1 through September 30) with a somber ritual.

UPDATE: As of October 26, 2016, Arlington National Cemetery no longer permits leashed dogs, except for service animals and military working dogs.

The last place you’d expect to find serenity is among vacationing families, high school field trippers, and trams loaded with tourists. And you’d be right…except this is Arlington National Cemetery. Even without the discreet signage to “conduct yourself with propriety,” most folks inherently realize that this is a place of honor. As such, you might pick up on the fact that there’s no recreational jogging or cycling on the grounds, and a general hush prevails. It’s a place that is at once peaceful but solemn, heroic yet tragic, both beautiful and brittle.

You don’t see many dogs at Arlington National Cemetery, though they are expressly permitted (see “Dogging the Details” below). Not to anthropomorphize, but Tavish our Intrepid Pup clearly picks up on the vibe during our visits that these are times for calm and respect. Usually most content only when his leash is fully extended, here—and without command—Tavish invariably sticks at a close heel.

We initially avoid the bulk of the crowds by walking up the steeply sloping Custis Walk. It winds by the grave of President William H. Taft as well as past the tomb of Mary Randolph, the first person known to be buried at Arlington. At the top of the hill are two memorable sights: Arlington House and a stunning panoramic view across the Potomac River of Washington, DC’s downtown monuments.

Arlington House: The Robert E. Lee Memorial

Maintained by the National Park Service, Arlington House is in the final phase of a multi-year restoration. The building is currently unfurnished, with certain rooms closed to the public, but visitors are encouraged to take a self-guided tour.

Quite simply, were it not for Arlington House, there would be no Arlington National Cemetery. The Greek temple-style house was constructed in 1802 by George Washington Parke Custis (1781-1857), who had been raised from infancy at Mount Vernon by none other than his grandmother Martha (Custis) Washington and her second husband George Washington. Custis intended for Arlington House to be both a family home and a tribute to his illustrious step-grandfather. Further cementing its place in history was the 1831 wedding in the parlor of Custis’s daughter Mary Anna Randolph Custis and Lt. Robert E. Lee, son of Revolutionary War Hero Henry “Light-Horse Harry” Lee. The marriage united two prominent Virginia families. When Virginia seceded from the Union on April 19, 1861, Robert E. Lee resigned his commission from the U.S. Army the next day and sided with his home state. Lee’s decision not only inexorably altered the course of the American Civil War but also cost him his home. To defend the nation’s capital, Union troops made preparations to occupy the strategically situated Arlington House. The Lee family left in haste in May 1861, and when Lee’s wife failed to pay property taxes in person, the home was confiscated. Government officials—interpreting Lee’s loyalty to Virginia as an act of treason—further sought to ensure against the Lees’ return by establishing a military cemetery on their land.  Lee’s uprooted family would never again live at Arlington House, and Arlington National Cemetery was born.

Tavish at Arlington National Cemetery

Tavish on the Custis Walk at Arlington National Cemetery, overlooking the eternal flame at President John F. Kennedy’s grave.

Roads through the cemetery are named almost entirely for American military heroes (Pershing, Nimitz, MacArthur, Eisenhower, etc.). Following them takes you on an introspective journey among the cemetery’s more than 250,000 graves. If you’re of a certain age, the memorials for the crews of Space Shuttles Challenger and Columbia will hold special meaning. And if you’re of another certain age, the eternal flame marking the grave of President John F. Kennedy will take you back to that fateful day in Dallas. Then there’s the main mast of the U.S.S. Maine, erected in the memory of those who died in the explosion in Havana Harbor in 1898. Individual headstones honor the final resting places of veterans who also distinguished themselves in other arenas—folks like heavyweight boxing champion Joe Louis, Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist,  polar explorer Richard Byrd, and astronaut Gus Grissom. The iconic Memorial Amphitheater provides the backdrop for the Tomb of the Unknowns, and the changing of the guard ceremony will leave a lump in your throat no matter how many times you see it. Further afield is the Pentagon Group Burial Marker, a five-sided black granite memorial to those who died in the Pentagon or on American Airlines Flight 77 during the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

It was here, on our most recent visit (this very Memorial Day weekend), that we were joined by a small group who had just pulled up on their Harley-Davidsons. One middle-aged women initiated conversation, explaining that she was in town for the Memorial Day Rolling Thunder activities that heighten awareness for POW/MIAs. “Best thing I’ve ever done,” she said. She gestures in the direction of another woman, clad in a white leather biker jacket. “Do you see that lady there?” she asked. “She’s a gold star mother. Her son died in Iraq in ’03. We just came from visiting his grave.” She tugged at the back of her own leather jacket to show us the patch that all her chapter members wear in his memory. A sobering moment.

And then there is Section 60.

The tenor of the cemetery perceptibly changes here from past to present. It’s the only area in Arlington National Cemetery where placing mementos beyond traditional flowers is officially sanctioned. Here you see snapshots propped up against the headstones. Candles spelling out “Happy Birthday.” A tethered heart-shaped balloon emblazoned with “I Love You.” Here the emotional scars are still as raw as the ground where grass has yet to grow over, where—in some instances—a permanent marker has yet to be placed. The standard signage seen elsewhere in the cemetery gives way here to signs that read simply, “Funeral Route.” Removed from the throngs is where Arlington is experienced at perhaps its most profound. Here is where the nation’s war dead from Afghanistan are being buried.

Oddly, your visit to Arlington up to this point isn’t quite adequate preparation for the visceral reality of Section 60, and it hits you like the proverbial ton of bricks. Ahead on the path, several rows in, we noticed a woman (a wife? mother? sister?) standing stock still before a grave where she had spread what appeared to be a red, white, and blue handmade quilt. We maintained a respectful distance so as not to intrude, and she was unaware of our presence. Yet, just as we were about to pass, she stirred, and in one fluid movement lay down upon the quilt, curling onto her side, eyes closed in a private, unspeakable grief.

Dogging the Details

Click to see what a "1" on the Wag-a-meter means 38°52′34.59″N,  77° 4′13.83″W
Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia

38°52′51.92″N,  77° 4′20.91″W
Arlington House: The Robert E. Lee Memorial
, Arlington, Virginia

Arlington National CemeteryFor as many times as we’ve visited Arlington National Cemetery over the years, it wasn’t until a friend and fellow dog owner recently mentioned it, that we were aware that leashed dogs are allowed on the grounds. Unless they’re service animals, they aren’t permitted in the visitor center buildings or inside Arlington House.

The Cemetery’s accessibility earns it a “1” on the Intrepid Pup wag-a-meter. The Cemetery has its own Metrorail  stop on the blue line and is regular destination on most guided tours of the area , but if you’re coming with your pet, these aren’t options. If you’re coming on foot, you can reach the Cemetery’s main entrance from the pedestrian trails that run over the Memorial Bridge and along Route 110 and the George Washington Memorial Parkway. Your best bet, however, is simply to park onsite at the Cemetery. There is ample vehicle parking in the paid lot off Memorial Drive, and rates are quite reasonable (currently, $1.75/hour for the first three hours and $2.50/hour thereafter). There is no admission fee to the Cemetery or to Arlington House. Once on the grounds, the Cemetery is extremely walkable, with well-marked paved drives and posted locator maps. Maps are also available from the visitors center. Be mindful that much of the cemetery’s 624 acres is hilly (“Uphill in both directions!” we overheard one family remark), so plan accordingly and bring plenty of water for yourself and your dog. Temperatures, particularly in the summer months, routinely exceed 80 degrees. Though the sheer expanse of the grounds readily absorbs crowds, Arlington National Cemetery attracts upwards of 4 million visitors annually, so be prepared for lots of people at popular locations like the Tomb of the Unknowns.

 

Save

A Tail at Three Sites

Tavish at Best Farm, Monocacy National Battlefield

Tavish at Best Farm, Monocacy National Battlefield

Many are the lessons that can be learned from historical sites, and a visit to Maryland’s Monocacy National Battlefield a few weeks ago was no exception. For Tavish the Intrepid Pup, the teachable moment came from a “stimulating” encounter snuffling the grass around a low-voltage electric fence by the cow pasture at the Worthington Farm site. (Note: no worries, he’s fine…just a lot more observant now when it comes to fences.) For Team Tavish, it was the realization that were it not for what happened at Monocacy back on July 9, 1864, the Civil War might have taken a different turn.

The battle at Monocacy represented the third and final Confederate invasion of the North. It often doesn’t get its due in history books because of the more epic scale of the previous two invasions at Antietam (1862) and Gettysburg (1863). But Monocacy is intriguing in its own right. With great irony, it was the Union army loss of the battle that actually saved the nation’s capital a mere 47 miles away. There are far greater chroniclers of Civil War battle strategy than the Intrepid Pup, but the basic storyline of Monocacy is this:  Ulysses S. Grant was beginning to successfully deter Robert E. Lee’s Confederate forces in the east. To sustain the pressure on those forces, Lt. General Grant was diverting to Richmond fresh reinforcements in the form of seasoned troops from the various forts that protected Washington, D.C. With relatively few soldiers left behind to “mind the store” so to speak, Lee recognized an opportunity and tasked Lt. General Jubal Early (1816-1894) with making a relatively quick run north up the Blue Ridge to cross at Harper’s Ferry and then invade the capital from the northwest. Early and his men very nearly succeeded except for  intervention from an unlikely source: John Garrett. Personally, Garrett was a Confederate sympathizer. Professionally, however, Garrett was the president of the Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) Railroad with many of his clients and much of his business centered in Union territory. It was he who alerted Major General Lew Wallace, stationed in Baltimore, to Early’s troop movements. Wallace had precious little time to react and even fewer resources to muster, but with an inexperienced band of 2,800 short-term recruits (i.e. not battle trained), he set out to intercede Early. The good news for Wallace was that by the time he encountered Early’s Confederate forces at Monocacy on July 9, his Union ranks had swelled to 5,800. The bad news for Wallace was that he was still outnumbered three to one. Imagine going into battle with full knowledge that the odds are squarely not in your favor.

The battle played out over about 12 hours amid several farmers’ fields and along a rail bed and the banks of the Monocacy River…you can still “read” the battle in the landscape today. By almost any measure, Wallace had been defeated and had lost nearly a quarter of his men in the process. Yet Early hadn’t expected to meet such resistance at Monocacy, and the fighting cost him some 900 men and critical hours. With no choice but to encamp on the battlefield the night of July 9, Early had effectively lost a day—and the element of surprise—in an already tight timeline. Early’s men pushed onward the next morning and reached the northwest boundary of Washington by the following afternoon to mount an attack on Fort Stevens. The delay, however, had given Grant just enough time to send steamships full of soldiers to repopulate the defensive forts around Washington. So, while the fighting at Fort Stevens on July 11 was fierce and deadly, it was not enough to fully infiltrate the nation’s capital. Early withdrew, ultimately unsuccessful in his mission.

Tavish at Fort Stevens

Tavish at Fort Stevens. President Abraham Lincoln went to witness the fighting here on July 11, 1864. Confederate sharpshooters aimed for him, making Lincoln the only U.S. President to come under direct enemy fire in time of war.

Tavish at Battleground National Cemetery

Tavish at Battleground National Cemetery

Fifty nine Union soldiers lost their lives in the Battle of Fort Stevens—the only Civil War battle to be waged in the District of Columbia—and 41 were buried the evening of July 12 at a site a half mile north of the fort on the battleground itself. President Lincoln attended the interment ceremony and consecrated the land as hallowed ground. Now known as Battleground National Cemetery, this tiny plot of land on Georgia Avenue, N.W. between Van Buren Street and Whittier Place is among America’s smallest national cemeteries. Added over the years were various monuments commemorating the regiments that fought, as well as several plaques bearing such sentiments as: “The muffled drums’ sad roll has beat the soldier’s last tattoo. No more on life’s parade shall meet that brave and fallen few.” There’s also a stone superintendent’s house designed by General Montgomery Meigs (1816-1892), a veteran of the Battle of Fort Stevens and also the architect/engineer of DC’s Pension Building that today houses the National Building Museum.

And what ever happened to Major General Wallace (1827-1905)? Yes, he lost the battle but survived the war and, interestingly enough, went on to write the famous novel Ben-Hur: A Life of the Christ (1880). His book was subsequently adapted for the silver screen several times, with the most notable version being the 1959 film classic (starring Charlton Heston and his famous chariot race scene) that reaped 11 Academy Awards.

Dogging the Details

Click to see what 2 on the Wag-A-Meter means39°22′37.90″N, 77°23′43.34″W
Monocacy National Battlefield
, Frederick, Maryland

38°57′52.05″N, 77°1′44.67″W
Fort  Stevens, Washington, DC

38°58′14.69″N, 77° 1′37.23″W
Battleground National Cemetery, Washington, DC

Monocacy NB

Tavish among the bluebells on the Ford Loop Trail, Monocacy National Battlefield

Because of the three sites’ relatively close proximity to one another, tracing the full story of Monocacy—from the initial battle in Frederick, Maryland, to the conclusion at the tiny cemetery in Washington—is easy to experience in one very full day or over the course of two  leisurely days. There’s the most ground to cover at Monocacy National Battlefield. Begin your foray at the visitors’ center on Urbana Pike. It used to be in smaller quarters at the Gambrill Mill site but moved to this nice new building about five years ago. Although dogs aren’t allowed inside the visitor center, make sure you head upstairs. There’s a succinct yet exceptionally comprehensive exhibition with an overhead timeline, lighted battle map, and several interactives that really help put what you’re about to see outside in a broader context. Be sure to pick up a brochure from the ranger, because it contains not only driving directions but also a trail map. There are 5 separate locations within the national park to get out explore with your dog. As always, dogs are to be leashed and picked up after:

  • While Best Farm and Monocacy Junction don’t have any trailheads per se, there’s plenty of room to explore the immediate vicinities from the parking areas. Best Farm is also associated with a remarkable 1862 event related to Antietam (Learn more at the visitors’ center or Google “Lee’s Lost Orders”!).
  • During the battle, the Gambrill Mill site was co-opted as a Union field hospital, and the short loop trail here includes a boardwalk section leading to the Monocacy River. Tavish enjoyed wading in the shallows.
  • The Thomas Farm site contains two loop trails that wind through the farm fields that withstood the heaviest fighting that day in 1864.
  • Worthington Farm has the longest trails, though neither of the two loops takes more than a half hour to hike. We went on a Sunday afternoon and had the place mostly to ourselves save for a couple joggers. The Ford Loop Trail is flat and hugs the flood plain of the Monocacy River. Should you happen to time it right in the springtime, as we did by happy coincidence, you’ll find the path to be spectacularly carpeted with Virginia bluebells (see photo). Much of the Brooks Hill Loop Trail borders the aforementioned cow pasture. Fresh from his fence episode, Tavish curiously appraised the gangly calves and their moms from a respectful distance. Once the trail enters woodland it quickly gains elevation, topping out on a ridge with an expansive view across emerald farmland toward Thomas Farm.

Back in the District of Columbia, visiting Fort Stevens simply involves snagging a parking spot on the street or in the neighboring church parking lot. All that remains of the once extensive Civil War Defenses of Washington are more than 20 locations throughout DC-MD-VA ranging from simple forest sites to earthworks to full-fledged forts. Fort Stevens is not staffed but does have a couple interpretive panels to orient visitors to the partial reconstruction. Continue the short distance to conclude your journey by parallel parking on Georgia Avenue in front of Battleground National Cemetery.