I was pretty nervous at first, but we finally found what we were looking for--the graves of the two soldiers who were victims of the skirmish at Picacho Peak in Arizona.
Privates Leonard and Johnson will finally have their fifteen minutes of fame, I hope.
As usual, I cried. They were in their mid-twenties when they were killed, so never started families of their own, or knew that their good-byes to any other relative were actually the last ones they would be bidding.
I can't change history, but every time I find someone who appears to be forgotten, I CAN write about them, and maybe someone else will pass it forward.
To think no one cares about Ellsworth, or wishes to write him off as an overly-glamorized soldier death is awful. Not everyone gets to be Lincoln or Davis, Grant or Lee. But without the rest, those four wouldn't matter much anyway.
After all, it is the blood of the common soldier that consecrates the ground, not the heel of the commander.