The Gift
— By Patrick Burke —
It was a cool and pleasant August evening in 2007 when Darryl “Smitty” Smith, Michael Hartness, and I decided to visit our old ghost soldier buddies at the Triangular Field. Mike, unlike many of us on the American Battlefield Ghost Hunter’s Society (ABGHS) team, had never experienced anything out of the ordinary at this location, but his luck was about to change.
Mike desperately wanted to have a firsthand paranormal encounter, and knowing what kind of compelling evidence the team had captured in the Triangular Field on past visits made him even more anxious to experience something. The Triangular Field offers as good an opportunity to have a paranormal encounter as any other place in Gettysburg, as unsuspecting visitors have reported many strange accounts over the years. This makes perfect sense, as some of the most vicious fighting of the Civil War took place in this small field between Devil’s Den and the Wheatfield during the second day of the battle. The Confederate forces had to first assault and wrest the Wheatfield away from the Union troops. Then, once this area was cleared and secured, the Confederate troops could move on the Triangular Field and then assault their primary object, the Devil’s Den.
As we approached the stone wall at the top of the field, I decided to stir up whatever paranormal energies I could. “Hey, boys!” I yelled out into the field. “We’re back, and it sure would be great if y’all would honor us with a bit of what happened here on July 2, 1863. I know Mike would surely appreciate it.”
Smitty moved over to the gate at the upper wall and proceeded to film that area of the field. Mike and I walked down to the middle of the field, near the right side of the wall as you walk down toward the bottom. The Triangular Field is normally quite active with visitors and ghost hunters, but on this particular day very few people were present. I walked down the sloped field approximately twenty paces apart from Mike and turned my camcorder toward the undergrowth, some of which stood more than six feet tall. Due to the height of the grass, I couldn’t see into the wooded area where the Third Arkansas and First Texas charged Houck’s Ridge during the battle.
Suddenly there was a rush of air, and we heard what sounded like hundreds of people moving in the woods. We both looked at each other at the same time and asked simultaneously, “Do you hear that!”
The noise got louder as this “attacking force” appeared to get closer to us. The air around us suddenly pulsated as if it had taken on a life of its own. I knew immediately that Mike and I had stepped fully into a paranormal moment, one of those rare moments when the very fabric of time “rips open” and reveals—albeit briefly—what happened long ago. Every one of our senses was heightened, and we could actually distinguish all the sounds associated with a mass of moving soldiers—rifle butts smacking low branches, canteens slapping hips, and the tramp of thousands of feet on dry leaves and twigs. I ran up the hill as Mike came toward me. We found a break in the grass, and as we turned down this path we were surrounded by the sound of men running. I could hear the sounds of labored breathing and muttering voices when a sudden flash in my mind’s eye showed a glimpse of the men before me. With our hearts beating faster than you could ever imagine, we ran toward the wall. I held the camcorder over my head, pointing it toward the woods in the hopes of catching something through the grass. When I reached the wall, I brought the camera back down. Finally, I thought to myself, I might be able to capture the actual historical battle on film. I seriously believed that elusive moment might actually be at hand.
And then, a woman with a small group of people behind us shouted, “Hey! You find anything!”
At that moment the paranormal event stopped, and the regular night noises returned to the environment. Mike and I looked at each other and laughed. We realized we had just been graced with the ability to view living history from those who actually participated in it—getting a glimpse of actual historic events as they occurred almost a century and a half earlier. At times like this, one is often speechless. We smiled at the woman and answered, “Nah, nothing here.”
We asked for a personal experience, and we truly believe our buddies on the other side heard us and gave us an astounding gift. Whenever I have an experience like this on a battlefield, I feel extremely humbled. The fact that these brave souls feel connected enough with me to actually allow me to witness history as it really happened is just incredible, and I’m truly grateful for it.