Ordinary Hero story submitted by Ruth Flower.
It is reported that in 1862 during the American Civil War, Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison’s landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land.
During the night , Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the soldier and began pulling him towards his encampment. On finally reaching his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate, but the soldier was dead.
The Captain lit a lantern, suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the south when war broke out. Without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army.
The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked to have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge at his son’s funeral. The request was turned down as the soldier was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician. He chose a bugler, asking him to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth’s uniform. This wish was granted.
The haunting melody we know as The Last Post, used at military funerals, was played.
The words are: Day is done, gone the sun, from the lakes, from the hills, from the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh. Fading light dims the sight, and a star gems the sky gleaming bright, from afar. Drawing nigh falls the night. Thanks and praise for our days, neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky. As we go, this we know, God is nigh.
- 9 years ago
no … the last post is British and dates way further back in to the mid 15th – 16th century …
The “Last Post” call (2nd Post) is used in British Army camps to signal the end of day when the duty officer returns from the tour of the camp and quarters. The “First Post” call marks the start of the inspection. The names are derived from the practice of inspecting all the sentry posts around such a camp at the end of the day, and playing a call at each of them.
In addition to its normal garrison use, the Last Post call had another function at the close of a day of battle. It signalled to those who were still out and wounded or separated that the fighting was done, and to follow the sound of the call to find safety and rest. Its use in Remembrance Day ceremonies in Commonwealth nations has two generally unexpressed purposes: The first is an implied summoning of the spirits of the Fallen to the cenotaph, the second is to symbolically end the day, so that the period of silence before the Rouse is blown becomes in effect a ritualised night vigil.
This custom dates from at least the 17th century, and originated with British troops stationed in The Netherlands, where it drew on an older Dutch custom, called taptoe, from which comes the term Tattoo as in Military tattoo, and also the term Taps. The taptoe was also used to signal the end of the day, but has more prosaic origin. Taptoe originated signalling the moment that beer taps had to be shut, hence that the day had ended. It comes from the Dutch phrase Doe den tap toe, meaning “Close the tap”: however the Dutch bugle call Taptoesignaal, now used for remembrance events, is not the same tune as the Last Post. Neither Last Post nor Taptoesignaal is to be confused with the U.S. call “Taps”, which has a similar function but different tune and origin.
The “Last Post” was used by British forces in North America in colonial times, but its function was taken over in the United States by “Taps”, which has been used by the United States Army since 1862.