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To See the Elephant: The Civil War Letters of John A. McKee (1861-1865)

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"To See the Elephant, The Civil War Letters of John A. McKee (1861-1865)," James R. James, illustrated by Darrell L. Combs, 98-67522.

In a world of e-mail and networks, we need to remember that letter writing is an act of faith. Faith that our correspondence will be dispatched and delivered, read and answered. Not simply a stream of bytes deleted more quickly than keyboarded. A letter, composed at a teakwood escritoire or within a sodden pup tent, is an out-calling, awaiting not an echo, but a thoughtful reply. Letters crafted not through plastic keys or ball point pens, but with quills and inks, on coarse paper. Such were the letters of John A. McKee (44th Ohio Vol. Infantry, later 8th Ohio Vol. Cavalry).

A common soldier, but no ordinary man, McKee saw writing home to have boots made; scant wages, long withheld; usually prompt post, even if family and friends had to send postage money. The randomness of shot and shell - inaccurate, ill-timed --, men and horses blood-drenching fields, hanged bodies -- justice undone -, friends and fellows cut down, wounded, captured, lost. The elephant seen. Told sentiently, without sentimentality. The occasional respite - evening galas, young ladies in formal settings -, on the eve of bloody battles, tell of a kind of war soon to be crushed beneath mechanization. A kinder, simpler war, certainly not. But a war made even more poignant because family and friends could visit the troops at the edge of the battlefield and watch the carnage spread out before them. McKee's vocabulary, grammar, and constructions show him to have been a bright and thoughtful young man. Describing troop celebrations following the surrender of General Lee, McKee wrote, "in the absence of artillery the men procured two anvils and up to this time have used about 16 lbs. of powder with no sign of cessation at least until the appearance of the small hours."

James R. James, a nationally respected court administrator, has not intruded on the letters or the dispatches through which the story is told. He offers brief explanations and places the letters in the context of time and place; the descriptions and tone are authentic of the times. Some words and phrases out of general currency, but known to Civil War buffs and historians, could have been explained. "Soger boys," "housewife," bounty paid at mustering out, Butternuts, `nothing short of ropes,' merited explanatory notes. A map or two would have been helpful. The casual reader is sent off to dictionaries and companion volumes. Of course, whenever our reading sends us off for further information, the benefit is ours.

So has Mr. James benefitted us and the memory of John McKee. They have handed on to us the words and thoughts of a young man caught up in a nation rent. By getting these letters to a wider readership, Mr. James has honored not only John McKee but his friends of silent pen. The line drawings of Col. Darrell L. Combs, USMC (ret.). In the volume, complement the letters. They are simple, straight-forward, and telling. The text is well-served by the images.

This modest printing has not been the output of a vanity press; it has been a press to preserve thoughts, words, and cares, written not in vain. Letters preserved may not be letters of value. These are. The writer, John McKee, was a perceptive participant in a western campaign of the American Civil War. His letters speak to us of duty, privation, inept leaders, missing arms and armaments. A succession of holders judged the letters worthy to pass down. When you read them, you will agree. Thank you, Col. Combs. Thank you, Jim James. Thank you, John

"To See the Elephant, The Civil War Letters of John A. McKee (1861-1865)," James R. James, illustrated by Darrell L. Combs, Leathers Publishing: Leawood, KS, (1998), ISBN: 1-890622-49-4; LOC: 98-67522.

In a world of e-mail and networks, we need to remember that letter writing is an act of faith. Faith that our correspondence will be dispatched and delivered, read and answered. Not simply a stream of bytes deleted more quickly than keyboarded. A letter, composed at a teakwood escritoire or within a sodden pup tent, is an out-calling, awaiting not an echo, but a thoughtful reply. Letters crafted not through plastic keys or ball point pens, but with quills and inks, on coarse paper. Such were the letters of John A. McKee (44th Ohio Vol. Infantry, later 8th Ohio Vol. Cavalry).

A common soldier, but no ordinary man, McKee saw and told engagingly of daily hardships: soldiers paying for uniforms; writing home to have boots made; scant wages, long withheld; usually prompt post, even if family and friends had to send postage money. The randomness of shot and shell - inaccurate, ill-timed --, men and horses blood-drenching fields, hanged bodies -- justice undone -, friends and fellows cut down, wounded, captured, lost. The elephant seen. Told sentiently, without sentimentality. The occasional respite - evening galas, young ladies in formal settings -, on the eve of bloody battles, tell of a kind of war soon to be crushed beneath mechanization. A kinder, simpler war, certainly not. But a war made even more poignant because family and friends could visit the troops at the edge of the battlefield and watch the carnage spread out before them. McKee's vocabulary, grammar, and constructions show him to have been a bright and thoughtful young man. Describing troop celebrations following the surrender of General Lee, McKee wrote, "in the absence of artillery the men procured two anvils and up to this time have used about 16 lbs. of powder with no sign of cessation at least until the appearance of the small hours." James R.. James, a nationally respected court administrator, has not intruded on the letters or the dispatches through which the story is told. He offers brief explanations and places the letters in the context of time and place; the descriptions and tone are authentic of the times. Some words and phrases out of general currency, but known to Civil War buffs and historians, could have been explained. "Soger boys," "housewife," bounty paid at mustering out, Butternuts, `nothing short of ropes," merited explanatory notes. A map or two would have been helpful. The casual reader is sent off to dictionaries and companion volumes. Of course, whenever our reading sends us off for further information, the benefit is ours.

So has Mr. James benefitted us and the memory of John McKee. They have handed on to us the words and thoughts of a young man caught up in a nation rent. By getting these letters to a wider readership, Mr. James has honored not only John McKee but his friends of silent pen. The line drawings of Col. Darrell L. Combs, USMC (ret.). In the volume, complement the letters. They are simple, straight-forward, and telling. The text is well-served by the images.

This modest printing has not been the output of a vanity press; it has been a press to preserve thoughts, words, and cares, written not in vain. Letters preserved may not be letters of value. These are. The writer, John McKee, was a perceptive participant in a western campaign of the American Civil War. His letters speak to us of duty, privation, inept leaders, missing arms and armaments. A succession of holders judged the letters worthy to pass down. When you read them, you will agree. Thank you, Col. Combs. Thank you, Jim James. Thank you, John McKee.

S.D.Conti