[When last we left our hero, he was descending South Mountain on National Road nearing Hagerstown, Maryland. The Washington Monument behind him, he now makes his way towards Antietam National Battlefield and west towards Wheeling, West Virginia.]

One thing that I failed to mention was just how windy it was the whole day. Especially on the Washington Monument. Possibly 40 to 50 mph gusts. It was quite blustery!

Alt Route 40 West from South Mountain takes you through Boonsboro. It’s a neat little town that seems to be getting to big. I’m not sure why, there’s no strip malls or anything, but it just seems to be too big. Stop it, Boonsboro.

A quick left turn down Maryland Route 34 takes me in the “back way” to Antietam. However, before I get there, I decide to take an old alignment of the Shepherdstown Pike through Keedysville. There was something about this town that really did it for me. I think it was the houses. Now, as I may have mentioned before, I love northern Maryland. I’m not exactly sure that I could live there, but I love to visit. Keedysville is a very Civil War-era town. Many towns around here are like this. However, many of the towns have been changed by larger US Routes going through them.

Keedysville seems relatively unchanged. It was cut off long ago by a quick little Route 34 bypass. And while life hasn’t really stopped for the folks who live there, it has definitely slowed down. I will definitely make it a point to stop here again.

A few miles down the road from Keedysville is Sharpsburg, home of the battle of Antietam. Many Civil War battles have two names. The south would generally name battles after the city or town that was nearby. In this case, Sharpsburg. The north would name battles after a body of water or some other geographical location. In this case, Antietam (named after Antietam Creek).

Antietam‘s battlefield park is quite a bit different from Gettysburg. In a way, it seems older. Or at least not as redone and refurbished. That’s not to say that it’s falling apart or shabby. Not at all. With the exception of the goofy looking visitor’s center, probably built in the architecturally unforgivable early to mid 1960′s, the park is pristine. It seems fairly unchanged from September 1862, when the battle took place.

Looks are a bit deceiving, several large wood lots were logged after the war. They are being replanted.

Of course, the battlefield is dotted with monuments and plaques commemorating the boys who fought and died here. And many died, were wounded or captured. In one day’s fighting, there were 23,000 casualties. It still remains the bloodiest day in American history.

The battle has always been a bit of a blur to me. I know the basics, of course, but when I get there, my sense of direction is all thrown off. The Union attacks happened in three phases, from north to south. First through the Cornfield, then to the Sunken Road (or Bloody Lane) and lastly over Burnside’s Bridge.

The day was brought to a stalemate when Confederate reinforcements attacked the attacking Union forces. By 5:30, the battle was over. Neither side could claim victory. The next day an unofficial truce was observed and the dead were buried. There were more dead than on D-Day, more dead than on 9/11.

Out of all of the battlefield, the Burnside Bridge means the most to me. I had an ancestor, a great, etc grandfather in the 51st Pennsylvania. They, along with the 51st New York, took the bridge. Throughout the day, General Burnside had tried to take the bridge. It was being held by roughly 500 Confederates in the hill immediately overlooking the creek. Burnside had at his command 12,500 troops. About a quarter of them got lost in the woods. Another group tried to ford the creek about a half-mile down stream (they failed to do so). Burnside’s remaining troops tried twice to take the bridge. They also failed with very heavy casualties.

It was then up to the two 51st’s to give it a shot. The colonel of the 51st Pennsylvania abstained from alcohol. He also forced his men to abstain. Most Union troops were given a whiskey ration. But not the 51st. The men did not care for this. After receiving orders from General Burnside to take the bridge, the colonel of the 51st Pennsylvania spoke to his men, “It is General Burnside’s special request that the two 51st’s take the bridge. Will you do it?”

A soldier shouted back, “Will you give us our whiskey, Colonel, if we make it?”

“Yes, by God!” was the reply.

The two 51st’s, my great, etc grandfather with them, stormed the bridge and took it. And yes, they got their whiskey!

From Burnside’s Bridge, I drove the remainder of the park, along the crest of a ridge that overlooked a valley. I’ve been meaning to take a nice long walk down in there to see what there is to see. If I had more time, I would have.

[Thus ends the second of three installments... tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of "Thursday was the longest day ever!"]