The Civil War History of the 57^th Indiana (#19)

The Battle of Lookout Mountain

“Friday, October 30^th, was a rainy, uncomfortable day, followed by a night of almost impenetrable darkness. That night our steamboat ran the gauntlet, and passed the rebel batteries unharmed, proceeding on down the river for rations. On this and another boat supplies for the entire army in Chattanooga were transported to the north-western extremity of Moccasin Point, and from there were conveyed across the point to town. For some time previous to the completion of this enterprise, rations became very scarce. Some days we were restricted to one third the usual allowance. But General Thomas had sent word to General Grant that ‘we would hold Chattanooga or starve.’

“When the rebel army had commenced the investment of Chattanooga, and their lines were drawn closer to our own on the south side of the river. The firing between the pickets, and needless sacrifice of life, was brought to a close by an agreement made under a flag of truce, and for some time the sound of musketry firing was seldom heard. Each day our men went to the front and cut wood, and the wagons came out in full view of the rebel pickets to load. One day, when our regiment was on the line, some boys from the camp came out to procure wood; and as there were but few trees standing, one of them cut a tree that stood near the line. Unfortunately it fell with the body and top outside. Stepping over the line and mounting the log, he commenced chopping. When a rebel picket, who was watching him through the bushes, ordered him to stop and re-cross the line. Much as he disliked to obey the order of a “gray-back,” he was compelled to yield, for he was on neutral ground. Reluctantly the Yank shouldered his ax, and uttering a silent blessing toward the exacting rebel, returned inside the lines.

“We had now been two months in Chattanooga, with the enemy closely stationed around us. The 15^th Corps, Army of the Tennessee, commanded by General Sherman, had marched from Memphis, and were approaching to join in the brilliant campaign soon to commence by the three armies combined, under the direction of General Grant. Our division was reviewed by General Sheridan on Sunday (November) the 15^th, who appeared well pleased with the appearance and discipline of his new command.

“The advance of our troops was contemplated for Saturday morning at daylight, November 21^st. The night before, the captain called me to his quarters and addressed me as follows, ‘Issue eighty rounds of ammunition to each man; have the canteens filled, haversacks packed, and hold them in readiness to move at a moment’s warning.’

“We were ordered to form in the rear of our picket-lines before daybreak to attack the rebels. But instead of marching orders, there came a dashing rain which continued until noon. Our movements depended upon those of General Sherman, who was moving up on the north side of the river, and all were delayed on account of the heavy rain.

“Monday, November 23^rd came in cloudy and cool. The regiments of our brigade formed and marched to the front. In the rear of each regiment were men carrying litters, on which to bear away the wounded. We took a position on a high knoll, in full view of the enemy. Beyond were the dim outlines of the rebel pickets, wrapped in their gray blankets. From the top of Mission Ridge, where stood the white tents of the rebel headquarters, Bragg could, with a glass, watch all our movements. Skirmishers were deployed in front of the column, and when they neared the enemy’s line of pickets delivered a volley. The rebels then turned and commenced a retreat, fighting from behind tress and stumps as they gave way before our troops. The men on our left marched bravely to the fight, and in short time drove the enemy from their front and took possession of Orchard Knob. Our division was detained on the line until the left moved forward, in order to turn the right of the rebel line and loosen their hold on the river; all of which was successfully accomplished. Battery “G”, 4^th Regular Artillery, was now moved forward to the rear of our brigade, and opened fire. In a short time they were replied to by a rebel battery, which shelled us vigorously for a time. Thus closed the first day’s operations.

“During the night we threw up a strong line of works; and when day dawned it found us ready for the fray. Morning came foggy, rainy, cold, and disagreeable. General Grant decided upon a strike at another point on the line, so we had but little else to do but look and listen. After a short time, a bang, bang, bang was heard right at the foot of Lookout Mountain. Few and scattered at first, they soon increased until whole volleys of musketry were distinctly heard. Louder still came the deafening roar, in thunder tones, from the great dogs of war on Moccasin Point until it seemed as if the very mountain would be torn to pieces.

“Slowly but surely our men pressed the enemy up and around the eastern base of the mountain. The cannonading and musketry were kept up continually. Our column now charged the enemy, and drove them from a line of works above the mountain base. A heavy cloud veiled the mountain crest from our view, and in half an hour more General Hooker was fighting above the clouds. When our column disappeared behind the clouds, our heavy guns ceased firing, but the cheering and the charging went on. Until midnight the red flashes of musketry were plainly visible. The mountain is covered by a rocky barrier with perpendicular sides forty or fifty feet high, and it was at the foot of this inaccessible ledge that our troops were compelled to halt at midnight.

“During the night, the enemy evacuated their position on the mountain, leaving their artillery to fall into the hands of our troops. When the sun gilded the eastern horizon, and cast a halo of golden light upon vale and mountain, it smiled upon the “Star Spangled Banner,” waving in triumph from the northern crest of Lookout Mountain. A thrill of joy went down our lines when it was announced that Sherman had succeeded in crossing the Tennessee River at the mouth of Chickamauga Creek, and was then with a heavy force posted on and near the north end of Mission Ridge.

“At 8 o’clock the next morning, the 57^th went out to perform picket duty two hundred yards in front of the line of works. We were now in plain view from the ridge, and had occupied our position but a few moments when the rebels opened upon us with artillery posted on the ridge. A sergeant in Battery “G” said that he could count thirty-two pieces of artillery on the ridge.

“As we expected, Sherman commenced his attack at 9 o’clock and soon the battle raged on the extreme left. An hour later we advanced to within one mile of the ridge. As the day wore away, General Grant grew anxious and decided to carry the line of rebel works at the foot of the ridge. In our front was a level plain one mile wide and at the eastern end was a line of rebel works. Six hundred yards up the steep and rugged ridge was the rebel artillery.

“The shortest road to victory was in storming the ridge and piercing their center. Hundreds of those who started would never reach the top, but the position would be carried. For a few moments there was a dead silence, a momentary calm before the storm. We were given five minutes to prepare for the charge. We knew their position, they knew ours, and what was now to be done must be done in earnest. The 57^th was deployed five paces apart, two hundred yards in front of the brigade, and it was ours to make the start.

“A volley of six guns was the signal for our advance, and their echoes came bouncing back over the plain. We rose from the ground and moved forward on the double-quick. As we neared the rebel works, panting with fatigue, the enemy left them and retreated toward the top. A cheer announced the result as we dropped behind the works. On the ridge the enemy had sixty pieces of artillery. Soon the line of battle came upon them when we scaled the works and moved toward the top.

“Language would fail to describe, in all its terrific grandeur, the scene which now followed. Imagine the ridge lined with cannon as close as they could be worked, hurling from their brazen throats a relentless shower of grape, canister, and shell; with a line of musketry to add to their fire. Long lines of battle, with colors fluttering in the breeze, were moving forward to join in the assault. Onward and upward moved the column, step by step, amid the whistling of bullets, shrieking of shells, and the horrid whizzing of grape that sounded like ten thousand infuriated demons just loosened from pandemonium with a wail that would freeze the very blood in our veins. The fire grew hotter and the line was at a stand-still. Now an officer gave command to fall back to the line of works at the foot of the ridge. As we turned to go down the hill, the rebels yelled “Chickamauga” at us with a vengeance.

“We now saw that our charge was just made to draw the enemy’s fire until the other columns could get well under way. A second line of battle now comes up, and again the order comes to charge the ridge. Some were marching to victory, others to death. The very earth seemed to tremble beneath the awful carnage. The lurid flashes of artillery and musketry blazed forth anew. Slowly and steadily our line moved to the second assault.

“Over the ramparts floated the blood-red flag of treason and beneath it stood a line of traitors dealing out death and destruction. Brave men are dying. Hundreds have fallen and their groans mingle in strange harmony with the noise of battle. The brave men move forward until they cross steel with the foe. The rebel line begins to waver. That traitor flag that has floated there so tauntingly begins to lower. In vain the rebel officers urge their men to stand fast. The tide of battle is turning; rebel desperation is about yielding to loyal valor. Our flag goes on to the top and the ridge is ours. Then such a scene. Shouts of victory, greeting of comrades, and calls for companies and regiments to reform, for in the fight we were badly scattered.

“The enemy reformed on a high hill half a mile from the ridge. We charged that, but they gave way as we moved up; and at the top of the hill we halted. After a while, fires were kindled and we got some warm coffee. At midnight we pushed after the enemy. They were completely routed.

“The road leading away was strewn with implements of war all the way to Chickamauga, where we arrived just before daylight. The bridge was in flames, and here our pursuit ended. The loss to our little 57^th regiment was ninety-four officers and men killed and wounded.

 

(Tennessee, October and November, 1863)

Excerpts taken from “Annals of the Fifty-Seventh Regiment, Indiana Volunteer Infantry: Marches, Battles, and Incidents of Army Life” written by Asbury L. Kerwood immediately after the war.

THE GREAT TREASURE HUNT

The greatest art theft in human history was organized by the Nazis during World War II. The looting of occupied European countries by the Third Reich lasted until their defeat in 1945. Paintings, sculpture, jewelry, ceramics, and furniture were systematically seized and, in most cases, transported to Germany. Artistic creations were stolen from over 2,265 museums, libraries, and churches. About 20% of all of Europe’s fine art was looted by the Nazis. In Poland alone, the art stolen is estimated to have exceeded 20 billion dollars (and 40% of their total cultural art heritage).

During World War II, the Nazis set up special units organized for the “seizure and securing of objects of cultural value.” They operated primarily in Poland, Hungary, Ukraine, Greece, and the Baltic region; but France and the Netherlands were also pillaged. Imperial residences, museums, churches, and private collections were plundered and their priceless art removed to be sent to Germany.

When the Allies started bombing German cities in 1943, the German government began to store the stolen art treasures in salt mines and caves in Bavaria (southern Germany) and Austria. These offered the necessary temperature and humidity for the art, as well as protection from the bombing.

THE ERR

The Nazi high command created a special task force called the “Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg” (designated as ERR) to document the system of looting in Europe by Adolf Hitler. The ERR was the primary agency employed in the theft of cultural treasures in Nazi-occupied countries. It was organized under Reich Leader Alfred Rosenberg and ordered by Hermann Goering to confiscate Jewish and Freemason art collections. This was later expanded to all important art. The ERR unit was of special interest to Hitler, who demanded that all confiscated works of art be brought to Germany and placed at his disposal.

The Nazis were meticulous record keepers. As the ERR staff supervised the looting, they photographed and cataloged every item. They created huge leather bound albums where which each page included the picture of a single significant stolen item. An inventory number was entered beneath each photo. It is believed that more than 100 albums were created. The albums served as a catalog from which Hitler could choose the art treasures he wanted for his grand museum, called the “Fuhrermuseum” in Linz, Austria. He planned for Linz to be his capital city for the arts. Rosenberg presented a few of the albums to Hitler on the Fuhrer’s birthday in 1943 to “send a ray of beauty and joy into his revered life.”

THE MONUMENTS MEN

In 1943, a group of cultural scholars, curators, and art historians from the U.S., France, Great Britain, and other Allied countries were organized to identify, rescue, and return the lost art masterpieces looted by the Nazi’s. They were called the “Monuments Men” and reported to the Strategic Services Art Looting Unit which was part of the Office of Military Government.

They wore their country’s military uniforms and arrived in France shortly after D-Day. There was no established precedent for what they were asked to do. While they were not trained for combat and were generally unarmed, they did face live fire. They also had to give orders to Allied combat troops in order to spare some treasures; such as where not to aim their artillery. The Monuments Men usually trailed behind the front line combat troops, but some teams actually worked behind enemy lines in a race against time to save priceless artwork. Other teams examined aerial surveillance photos and identified structures and monuments that should not be bombed.

Assisting the “Monuments Men” were members of the French resistance. One member, Rose Valland, volunteered at the French Musee Jeu de Paume in Paris. This was where the stolen art of France was consolidated for movement to Germany. Valland had ingratiated herself to the Nazis and unknown to them, she spied on their looting activities throughout the war. After the liberation of Paris, she shared her secret information with the Monuments Men.

Working with the U.S. Seventh Army in Bavaria, the Monuments Men teams were able to retrieve a huge cache of French artwork stored in tunnels under a castle at Neuschwanstein, Germany. They also discovered 39 of the original ERR Albums there. The ERR Albums had been stored there by the Germans along with records that documented their looting of tens of thousands of other items. The albums were used by the teams to assist in the restitution of the art treasures to their original owners.

In the closing days of the war, U.S. soldiers of the Seventh Army entered Hitler’s mountain home, the Berghof, in the Bavarian Alps. Over 1,000 painting and sculptures were found there. Many soldiers picked up items to prove that they had been inside the complex. Some experts think that missing ERR Albums may have found their way to America as souvenirs.

NUREMBERG

At the Nuremberg Trials, November 1945 to October 1946, the Allied victors decided to prosecute the Nazi defendants for the looting by using America’s “Lieber Code.” This code was part of an 1863 document prepared by Abraham Lincoln which dictated how Union Armies were to treat prisoners; it also insisted on humane treatment for populations in occupied areas. It is known as the first written code of law for times of war. Any excesses to the code were punishable by court martial.

The Allied Court used one provision that stated, “plunder of public or private property was a war crime.” The Nazi ERR Albums were used as evidence of the massive looting of occupied countries by Germany. The 39 known volumes of the ERR listed 21,903 looted works of art which included 5,281 paintings, 583 sculptures, 5,825 objects of decorative art, 259 art works of antiquity, and thousands of other pieces. 

THE NATIONAL ARCHIVES

Today, the United States National Archives has custody of the original 39 ERR Albums. In 2007, two additional albums were found and donated to the Archives by the family of a soldier in the 989^th Field Artillery Battalion who was temporarily assigned in the Berchtesgaden area near Berghof at the close of hostilities. He must have believed he was just picking up a souvenir, and his family had stored the albums away for 60 years without ever realizing their importance. A representative of the Archives said, “I hope discoveries such as these will encourage other veterans and their families to look in their attics and basements for any lost wartime items as they may hold clues to unravel this unsolved mystery.”

COMING UP NEXT

For those of you who think this little known story of the rescue of the masterpieces is as fascinating as we do, there is one more thing you should know. A short time ago, George Clooney announced that his next film will be based on the World War II search for these stolen art treasures. He will write, direct, and star in a big budget film about the “Monuments Men” and the French resistance. The film will be an adaptation of the 2009 book, “The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves, and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History” by Robert Edsel. The film is in production now, and due to be released just before next Christmas.

Of the original 400 members of the Monuments Men, only 13 are still living.

“THIS IS A MORTAL WOUND, DOCTOR”

(Alexander Hamilton)

At 7:00 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, several men strode into a clearing in the woods on the high palisades, called Weehawken, which overlook Manhattan Island. Two men were there to defend their honor. These two exchanged salutations. They cast lots to determine a choice of position; then loaded their pistols within each other’s gaze. The duelist’s seconds tried to settle the matter amicably, which protocol demanded, but without success. The men faced each other at a distance of ten full paces. Each duelist is asked if he was ready. “Present!” was the reply by both. Each man fired in succession. The first man fired his weapon but hit nothing. The second fired and the other dropped to the ground.

It was July 11, 1804, and the two combatants were Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton; two important founding fathers of America. Aaron Burr, 48, was the sitting Vice President of the United States under Thomas Jefferson; Alexander Hamilton, 47, was the former Secretary of the Treasury under George Washington.

Their relationship had been fueled by political rivalry and personal animosity for the prior dozen years. Hamilton was a Federalist, Burr was a Republican, and their philosophies could not have been more different. In 1791, Burr successfully won the U.S. Senate seat for New York from Hamilton’s father-in-law. Burr gloated while Hamilton bristled.

By 1800, Alexander Hamilton was an influential presence in the administration of John Adams (also a Federalist). But Hamilton cared little for Adams, and he put his criticisms of Adams into writing. Burr got a hold of Hamilton’s essay, intended to be kept private, and published it causing a rift between Adams and Hamilton which never mended. In that year’s presidential election, Aaron Burr and Thomas Jefferson tied in the balloting so Congress had to vote to break the tie. Hamilton lobbied Congress to decide the election in Jefferson’s favor, which it did (after 36 ballots). Aaron Burr became Vice President. Hamilton gloated while Burr bristled.

Four years later, it became clear to Burr that Jefferson might not ask him to run on the party’s ticket. So, Burr decided to seek the governorship of New York which horrified Hamilton, a New Yorker. Hamilton despised Burr and worked hard to see him defeated. Burr was crushed in the general election. Again Hamilton gloated. During that campaign, Hamilton had made numerous derogatory remarks about Burr’s character at a dinner party. Word got out. Hoping that a victory in the duel might revive his political career, Aaron Burr challenged Hamilton to a duel of honor. Hamilton wanted to avoid the duel but he had little choice. If he apologized for his statements about Burr, he would lose his honor. If he refused to apologize, he would lose his honor.

On that fateful morning in July, the two met. Before the duel, Hamilton told his seconds that he would “throw away his shot,” meaning he would intentionally miss his target, which was historically a way for two men to retain their honor and their lives. But Hamilton fired into the air instead of into the ground as is usually done.  This gave Burr justification to aim and shoot Hamilton. The bullet struck him in the abdomen and lodged near his spine, doing damage to his internal organs. As the attending physician rushed to aid him, Hamilton said, “This is a mortal wound, doctor,” which it was. To everyone, he appeared lifeless. His respiration was not perceptible. Aaron Burr and his seconds disappeared into the trees. Hamilton’s people moved him to a waiting barge and crossed the river to Manhattan. When they were about fifty yards from shore, Alexander Hamilton began to breathe and sigh once more. The men carried him to his house. He lingered until the next day, then died.

The next day, Burr said that Hamilton had in fact tried to shoot him, and that there was no “throwing away” of his shot. Aaron Burr was charged with murder in New Jersey and New York, but he fled to South Carolina and no trial was ever initiated. He later returned to Washington to finish his term as Vice President. The death of Alexander Hamilton ended Burr’s political career. Jefferson dropped him from the ticket for the 1804 election. Burr never held office again. Aaron Burr lived another 32 years. Alexander Hamilton died the day after he met Burr for the last time.

THE MOLLY MAGUIRES:

TERRORISM IN PENNSYLVANIA

In late 18^th Century Ireland there was a woman named Molly Maguire, a Catholic and a widow. When absentee English Protestant landlords attempted to evict her from her cottage for being Catholic, the men of the area rebelled, and violence ensued. These men called themselves the “Molly Maguires” in her honor. When the “Mollies” attacked the landlords, they would shout, “Take that from a son of Molly Maguire!”

These were dark times of persecution for Irish Catholics, and things changed little when the masses of Irish immigrants crossed the Atlantic to America. Scores of Molly Maguires were also part of the influx. Many settled in Pennsylvania, where “help wanted” signs frequently read “Irish Need Not Apply.” These American “Mollies” lived secretly beneath the cover of the large fraternal organization known as “The Ancient Order of the Hibernians” (which was even larger than the Masons).The Mollies were almost all full-blooded Irish Catholics and as a result, they were prohibited from all occupations except for the most menial labor. Many sought employment in the anthracite coal mines of northeastern Pennsylvania to feed their families. It was a time before minimum wage laws, suitable standards for working conditions, or any organized labor unions.

 

In anger and frustration, the American Mollies used violence and terrorism to combat the atrocious conditions in the mines. They began inflicting reprisals on the police, mine supervisors, and mine owners. They blew up railroad cars full of coal, organized riots, and issued threats to anyone who spoke out against them. The violence started during the Civil War and reached its peak during the 1870’s. While some tactics might have been understandable if the Mollies were struggling for Irish equality, but they were not. They showed little appreciation for the plight of the average immigrant, and were not driven by a desire for equality and justice. Instead they used revenge to further their own power. At one time, 24 mining foremen and supervisors were murdered. The level of violence even eclipsed that of the old west gunslingers.

A Chicago Tribune editorial said, “History affords no more striking illustration of the terrible power for evil of a secret, oath-bound organization controlled by murderers and assassins than the awful record of crime committed by the Molly Maguires in Pennsylvania.”

The leader of the Mollies was John “Black Jack” Kehoe, who was called “The King of the Mollies;” and he oversaw the actions of the group (ironically, Kehoe was not a miner at all, but a saloon owner). The Mollies would meet to decide the fate of those who opposed their plans. Decisions were made by vote. If a person was selected for a beating or murder, the job was assigned to a member who lived in another county, while local Mollies arranged their alibis. Later, a return of the favor was granted to the man who did the deed.

In 1873, Franklin Gowen, the owner of the Reading Railroad, a former District Attorney, and a man familiar with Molly violence, hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to have an agent of theirs infiltrate the Molly Maguires and gather evidence by which the group could be prosecuted. The agent selected was James McParlan, an Irish Catholic immigrant himself. Under the name James McKenna, he spent almost four years operating within the Moll Maguire organization. He was able to stop some crimes from being committed (without blowing his cover) and reported the group’s inner workings to authorities.

After accumulating enough evidence, the most infamous Molly members were arrested and tried. McParlan was the chief witness against them. He had undermined one of the tightest terrorist organizations ever seen in America. Twenty years of rule by the Molly Maguires came to an end. 

It seemed that proving a man was a member of “The Ancient Order of the Hibernians” was enough for Pennsylvania Dutch juries to find him guilty. Twenty men were sentenced to death by Judge Cyrus Pershing. On June 21, 1877, the first ten men were hanged in Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. The other ten, including John “Black Jack” Kehoe, were hanged soon after.

To the consternation of the coal barons, efforts to stop the rise of labor unions in the coal mines failed. By 1890, the United Mine Workers was formed which did have the welfare of the workers as its primary goal.

(note: Some of you may recall the 1970 motion picture “The Molly Maguires” which starred Richard Harris as agent James McParlan and Sean Connery as John “Black Jack” Kehoe, the “King of the Mollies.” It was filmed in the Pennsylvania coalfields.)

IF YOU KNEW WHAT WAS TO COME,

WOULD YOU HAVE KILLED ADOLPH HITLER
GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY?

This story of a British soldier sparing the life of Adolph Hitler during World War I has been around for a long time. It is believed by most to be true.

At the end of the first year of the war, the Allies (UK, France, and Belgium) met the German Army near the town of Ypres, Belgium during October and November of 1914. A major battle ensued causing over 260,000 casualties. As the Germans withdrew, a wounded German soldier limped out of the smoke and into the gun sights of British Private Henry Tandey.

Tandey took aim, and with a squeeze of the trigger he would end the life of this

enemy. But he didn’t shoot. He was unable to complete the deed. The two men stared face to face at each other, then nodded. The injured German crawling back into the shadows was Corporal Adolph Hitler of Braunau, Austria. He never forgot the kindness of the British soldier who spared his life; and the face of Henry Tandey haunted Hitler for the rest of his life. Years later Tandey was quoted, “I took aim but couldn’t shoot a wounded man, so I let him go.”

Henry Tandey went on the become the most decorated British enlisted man of World War I, winning multiple medals for bravery including the Victoria’s Cross. The young German was recognized for bravery

by his country too, being awarded the Iron Cross. Tandey retired from the Army in 1926 and lived the quiet life in Leamington, England.

By the 1930’s, Adolph Hitler had risen to power in Germany as the leader of the National Socialist Party (NAZI). He clearly remembered Tandey. Hitler interpreted the incident as a prophetic sign of what he was destined to do. He carried with him the newspaper article about Tandey being awarded the Victoria’s Cross; and after becoming Chancellor of Germany, he ordered officials to get a copy of Tandey’s service record.

By 1938, war was imminent in Europe. British Prime Minister, Neville

Chamberlain, travelled off to meet Hitler in an effort to head off the conflict. While there, Hitler invited Chamberlain to his new retreat in Berchtesgaden. While touring the residence, he came upon a painting by Italian Fortunio Matania which clearly depicted Henry Tandey carrying a wounded soldier to safety during the Battle of Marcoing in 1918. Both Tandey and Hitler were also present at this battle, but they had only met once before years earlier at Ypres.

Chamberlain asked why the Chancellor had a painting (it was a copy) of British

soldiers at his home. Hitler replied, “That’s the man who nearly shot me. That man came so near to killing me that I thought I should never see Germany again, providence saved me from such devilishly accurate fire as those English boys were aiming at us.” Adolph Hitler then asked Chamberlain to pass on his gratitude to Tandey upon his return to England; which he did.

Henry Tandey was nonchalant about the message at first; but as World War II began, he would say, “If only I had known what he would turn out to be. When I saw all the people and women and children he killed and wounded, I was sorry to God I let him go.”

Tandey outlived Hitler by thirty-two years but carried the weight of his action, or non-action, to the grave in 1977. Would you have felt the same way Henry Tandey did? What do you think would have given you the moral justification to decide who lives and who dies? If you knew that the man in your gun sights was Adolph Hitler, would you have pulled the trigger?