Sallie was four weeks old in 1861, when she was given as a gift to 1st Lieutenant William Terry, of the 11th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry. Terry made her the regimental mascot, a post she would hold for the duration of the Civil War.
Sallie was a Staffordshire Bull Terrier, or possibly a Pit Bull, brindle in color. She would tag along on long marches, and kept the men of the regiment company in their camps. She learned the drum roll announcing reveille, and loved to help wake the sleeping soldiers in the morning.
If you’ve ever had a dog in your life, you know how that goes.
There was barely a man in the regiment, who wouldn’t have walked over the proverbial “bad road & broken glass”, for that dog. Sallie’s first battle came at Cedar Mountain, in 1862. No one thought of sending her to the rear before things got hot, so Sallie took up a position along with the colors, barking ferociously at the adversary.
There she remained throughout the entire engagement, as she would do at Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville and Spotsylvania.
It was said that Sallie only hated three things: Rebels, Democrats, and Women.
Sallie marched with “her” soldiers in review, in the spring of 1863. Abraham Lincoln was reviewing the army at the time, when he spotted the dog from the center of the reviewing stand, and raised his famous top hat in salute.
At Gettysburg, Sallie was separated from her unit in the chaos of the first day’s fighting. They found her five days later, on July 6, parched with thirst and weakened by hunger.
She’d been standing guard over her dead and dying comrades, since July 1.
It’s been said that only a dog is capable of that kind of loyalty, yet virtue in one is capable of inspiring virtue in another. So it was on February 5, 1865. Sallie was struck in the head by a bullet at Hatcher’s Run. She was killed instantly. Several men of the 11th PA laid down their arms and buried her, right then and there. Even though they were still under fire from the Confederate side.
There is a tale about Sallie, I don’t know if it’s true. Probably not but it’s a nice story.
After the battle in which Sallie was killed, the soldiers were moving out when a small whining was heard from within a hollowed-out tree. Someone went to the tree and found several small puppies, believed to be Sallie’s. They’d had no idea that she was pregnant, or how puppies came to be in that hollowed out tree. The soldiers gave them to local civilians, so that Sallie’s bloodline might live on.
Twenty-seven years after Gettysburg, surviving veterans of the regiment returned to dedicate a memorial to those members of the 11th Pennsylvania, who lost their lives on that field of battle.
Today, 1,320 memorial statues, monuments and markers dot the landscape of the Gettysburg battlefield. Among all of them there are only two, raised in the memory of a dog. The first is a Celtic cross, erected in honor of New York’s Irish Brigade. Ironically, it is sculpted by a Confederate veteran of the battle. At the foot of the cross rests a life-sized likeness of an Irish wolfhound, symbolizing honor and fidelity..
The other includes a brindle colored Terrier, named Sallie. The only one of the two to have actually participated in the battle.
The monument depicts an upright Union soldier, rifle at the ready. By unanimous consent of the veterans themselves, Sallie’s likeness looks out from the foot of the statue, where she guards over the spirits of “her boys”, for all eternity.
“Sallie was a lady,
she was a soldier too.
She marched beside the colors,
our own red white and blue.
It was in the days of our civil war,
that she lived her life so true”.
The territory which would come to be occupied by the colony of Georgia was a subject for dispute between Great Britain and Spain, since long before the state became a colony.
off the ear of Commander Robert Jenkins, informing the unfortunate ship’s master that he could “Go, and tell your King that I will do the same”, to him.
Lee was appointed to the Committee of Confederation, assigned to write the Articles by which the fledgling nation would govern itself. Lee believed that two such committees were too much and, soon, he would be called home to care for a critically ill wife.
Indeed, such a system has imperfections, not least among them those who would ascend to political office.
In pre-1955 America and around much of the world, Summer was a time of dread. TIME Magazine offered what solace it could, in 1946: “for many a parent who had lived through the nightmare fear of polio, there was some statistical encouragement: in 1916, 25% of polio’s victims died. This year, thanks to early recognition of the disease and improved treatment (iron lungs, physical therapy, etc.) the death rate is down to 5%.”
Charles Vansant’s left thigh was stripped to the bone. He was brought to the Engleside hotel, where he bled to death on the front desk.
Like some earlier, real-life “Jaws”, authorities and the press downplayed the incident. The New York Times reported that Vansant “was badly bitten in the surf … by a fish, presumably a shark.” Pennsylvania State Fish Commissioner and former director of the Philadelphia Aquarium James M. Meehan opined that “Vansant was in the surf playing with a dog and it may be that a small shark had drifted in at high water, and was marooned by the tide. Being unable to move quickly and without food, he had come in to bite the dog and snapped at the man in passing“.
Based on the style of the attacks and glimpses of the shark(s) themselves, the attacks may have been those of Bull sharks, or juvenile Great Whites. Massive shark hunts were carried out all over the east coast, resulting in the death of hundreds of animals. Whether all five attacks were carried out by a single animal or many, remains unknown.
At the time, the story resulted in international hysteria. Now, the tale is all but unknown, but for the people of Matawan. Stanley’s grave sits on a promontory at the Rose Hill Cemetery, overlooking Lester’s grave, below. People still stop from time to time, leaving flowers, toys and other objects. Perhaps they’re paying tribute. Homage to the courage of those who would jump into the water, in the face of our most primordial fear.
Often unseen in times of such dread calamity, are the humanitarian workers. Those who tend to the physical and spiritual requirements, the countless small comforts, of those so afflicted.
A small group of carefully selected female officers was sent to France on August 22. That first party comprised six men, three women and a married couple. Within fifteen months their number had expanded by a factor of 400.
‘Hutments’ were formed all over the front, many right out at the front lines. There were canteen services. Religious observances of all denominations were held in these facilities. Concert performances were given, clothing mended and words of kindness offered in response to all manner of personal problems. On one occasion, the Loyal Order of Moose conducted a member initiation. Pies and cakes were baked in crude ovens and lemonade served to hot and thirsty troops. Of all these corporal works of mercy, the ones best remembered by the ‘doughboys’ themselves, were the doughnuts.
Before long, the women got better at it. Soon they were turning out 2,500 to 9,000 doughnuts a day. An elderly French blacksmith made Purviance a doughnut cutter, out of a condensed milk can and a camphor-ice tube, attached to a wooden block.
Fritz Duquesne was in charge of moving one of those shipments across the bushveld of Portuguese East Africa, when some kind of argument broke out. When it was over, only two wounded Boers were left alive, along with Duquesne himself and a few tottys (native porters). Duquesne ordered the tottys to hide the gold, burn the wagons and kill the survivors. He then rode off on an ox, having given the rest to the porters.
To keep costs down, off-the-shelf components were used whenever possible. The body was made of fiberglass to keep tooling expenses low. The chassis and suspension came from the 1952 Chevy sedan. The car featured an increased compression-ration version of the same in-line six “Blue Flame” block used in other models, coupled with a two-speed Power glide automatic transmission. No manual transmission of the time could reliably handle an output of 150 HP and a 0-60 time of 11½ seconds.
Historical Easter Eggs - Today in History 
You must be logged in to post a comment.