Gut Shot Soldier
— By Patrick Burke —
Sometimes you capture the most incredible paranormal evidence when you least expect it. As a case in point, a few years ago I was trying out my new infrared camcorder and wanted to see how it would record when shooting at dusk in the near-infrared format. I decided to film at Spangler’s Spring, partly because I’d never filmed there before and partly because of the time of day, around seven thirty p.m. The sun was setting behind the trees near the spring, which would help eliminate any direct sunlight that might cause the image to become completely overexposed as a result of too much light pouring into the lens aperture.
A natural spring that flows at the southern end of Culp’s Hill, Spangler’s Spring was a focal point for the wounded men, on both sides, during the Battle of Gettysburg (see chapter 8: First Sighting). Drinking from the spring’s refreshing water was, in some cases, the last pleasurable act many of these men experienced before dying. The fierce fighting that occurred on this area of the battlefield remains vastly underestimated, but many soldiers’ recollections of the combat around Spangler’s Spring vividly capture its true devastation. Union Col. George Cobham of the 111th Pennsylvania Infantry described the carnage in a letter he wrote to his brother on July 4, 1863. “We have just concluded the most severe battle of the War, which has resulted in a complete victory on the Union side. The fighting has lasted two days and been desperate on both sides. All round me as I write, our men are busy burying the dead. The ground is literally covered with them and the blood is standing in pools all around me; it is a sickening sight.”
Henry Hunt, Chief of Artillery in the Army of the Potomac, remembered the thick forest of hardwoods on Culp’s Hill that bore the scars of the battle for many years afterward. “The scene of this conflict was covered by a forest of dead trees,” he wrote in the 1880s, “leaden bullets proving as fatal to them as the soldiers whose bodies were thickly strewn beneath them.”
Should you have the chance to visit, imagine what it would look like with hundreds of wounded men moaning and crying out for help. Imagine also the dead lying all around, their sightless eyes staring into the sky. If I had to choose one area on the battlefield that could provide witnesses with the best chance of experiencing a paranormal event, I would argue that Spangler’s Spring is a good place to observe due to the immense suffering and bloodletting that occurred there in a relatively short period of time.
I set the camcorder on a tripod and selected a spot just in front of the spring, filming a small band of Confederate reenactors who set up a small camp behind the boulders and tree’s across from Spangler’s Spring and the base of Culp’s Hill. My daughter Emily was with me at the time, and I filmed her hiding, jumping, and playing soldier for about three minutes. The camcorder worked great in the infrared mode at dusk. The picture possessed a slightly green tint, but otherwise the quality was excellent. Emily went over to talk with my wife Jean, who was waiting in the car, so I again focused on the reenactors. After several minutes of filming them going about their campsite routine, I moved the camera approximately ten feet to my right and began shooting the area from a different angle.
As I always do when using cameras, I noted the activity in front of the camcorder. Emily was the only person in the frame’s foreground, and four or five reenactors were in the background moving around the campsite. I had a feeling that something unusual was going to happen around them. In fact, I’ve found that reenactors can help facilitate paranormal events, and I’ve used them on a number of occasions when doing experiments during investigations. When I arrived back at our hotel room, I reviewed the tape and found what I expected (and hoped) I might capture—the full apparition of a gut shot soldier!
When we replayed the footage, the form of a soldier with his back to a forked tree and his body covering the bottom front of a large boulder could be clearly defined. It remained in view for almost three minutes. It appeared as if his feet were bootless and a dark mass covered his abdomen. I intuitively believed the dark mass indicated the area of his fatal injury.
Did a ghost soldier honor me with a glimpse of how he died at Gettysburg? Did his comrades make him as comfortable as possible before heading back into the fight? The footage still has a profound impact on me. It makes me wonder what were this soldier’s last thoughts. Did he think about his wife, who waited nervously for him to return home? Did his thoughts drift to his children, who had probably grown so much since he left home to fight for the cause? Or, like so many of the very young boys who died on this battlefield and never got the chance to marry and have children, perhaps he thought about his mother and the sense of comfort and safety she always provided him.
I returned the next day and took some notes at the specific location where I captured the paranormal event. I noticed in the exact spot where the apparition appeared that no dark masses were present. No large concentration of moss or leaves existed, certainly nothing the size of the dark mass in the video. And there were no logs, bushes, or tree branches in front of the boulder that could be mistaken for a person.
I knew what I captured was real and that this soldier “allowed” me to capture him on videotape, but how can I explain and make sense of it? Often on battlefields, when you visit with an open mind and heart and respect the sacrifices of the soldiers who fought there, you begin to establish a connection of sorts with the energies that remain behind. I can’t describe why this happens, but I can say it represents the most fulfilling part of what I do. I’m capturing moments in history. I’m like a bard of old, a traveling storyteller who is privileged to have experienced special connections and who shares the stories of the fallen brave in their own words.