By noon it was in the eighties, and troops lay in position, waiting, as all men in the military spent most of their time doing. A couple of the brigade commanders who would lead the assault gathered together for a liquid lunch of some liberated whiskey. It was a common, if not widely reported, practice for soldiers on both sides before the attack. It was somewhat easier to charge into hot lead with some hot liquor in one’s belly. It might becloud the mind, but it emboldened the spirit and held fear a little further at bay.
Throughout the morning there had been little firing along this part of the front, although heavy fire had been heard to the north in the vicinity of Culp’s Hill. Snipers occasionally put out a round here and there. A few artillery rounds were fired, but these were for ranging purposes, to lay the guns.
As noon came a strange silence descended. Even the battling at Culp’s Hill died off. There was no breeze, and the stillness was heavy over both sides. Yet, both sides also brimmed with confidence about what was to come.
Save for Longstreet. Remarkably, he even sent a courier with a message to the Confederate commander of artillery. The message directed him to tell Pickett to call off the attack if the barrage did not have the anticipated effect on · the Union lines. This was a bizarre message given that · Longstreet commanded Pickett’s division, but it was the only thing Longstreet could think of to try to forestall the attack short of disobeying Lee’s orders.
The artillery commander sent a message back to Longstreet, bouncing the ball of responsibility back. The message said that if there were any doubt about the wisdom of this attack, it should be called off before the barrage began as it would use most of the remaining artillery ammunition. Longstreet realized that his first message had been inappropriate and dropped the issue.
At 1:00 P.M. the Confederate batteries opened fire.
Earhart’s morning had not been uneventful. Confederate skirmishers had crawled forward, several not far from where she hid. Around eleven, a half dozen Rebel snipers actually took cover in the house and opened fire on the Union positions, bringing fire back at them. Earhart was forced to shut the cover to her hole.
She heard firing for almost a half hour, then shouts as the Confederates were forced to relinquish their position as a strong Union patrol charged forward. Earhart thought she was safe when she heard the Union soldiers retreat back to their lines. She pushed up the plank and was greeted by the strong smell of wood smoke. Twisting her head she could see that the remnants of the farmhouse had been set on fire by the Union troops to destroy it as a refuge for snipers. She shut the top and hunkered down, praying that the plank would not catch fire.
After an hour or so she carefully pushed up the top. The farmhouse was smoldering remains. Then a roll of thunder roared overlie battlefield, and she saw the Union lines explode with the incoming artillery.
The infantrymen did as infantry had done since the invention of the cannon and when receiving incoming fire. They sought cover. Given no orders to return fire, the Union artillerymen quickly did the same.
General Gibbon jumped up from his lunch with Meade and yelled for his horse. As an orderly brought it, a piece of shrapnel from an exploding shell tore through the man’s chest killing him instantly. The horse fled. Gibbon ignored this and strode off for the nearby front line on foot.
Men were torn apart, animals killed, and occasionally an ammunition wagon would explode, causing a distant roar of applause from the unscathed Confederate lines. Meade headed to his headquarters, behind Cemetery Ridge. Which actually was a more dangerous position than the front lines as most Confederate shells were high and landed on the reverse slope. Meade arrived to find that his chief of staff had been wounded.
Along the Union front, the massed Confederate firing was having an effect, although not as great as Lee had hoped for. The Union artillery commander was almost playing games in response. ·He allowed some of his batteries to fire back for short periods of time, more to bolster morale among the beleaguered infantrymen than to counter what was coming in. He also had some guns deliberately not fire among those batteries, to make the Confederates think they had knocked out many of his pieces.
Casualties among the infantry were actually relatively · light as they had the advantage of hiding behind the stonewall and most of the rounds sailed harmlessly overhead. Officers had the highest rate of dead and wounded as they strolled along the line, shouting encouragement to the men. In a strange way, the fact that so many of the shells were high discouraged any who might have thought about running as it was actually safer to be behind the wall. Also, the lack of trees, except for the copse, along the place receiving the most fire, was advantageous as it reduced the possibility of wood splinters from exploding shells.
The one effect the bombardment did have, though, on the Union troops, was to convince them an attack was coming.
General Gibbon, who would later admit that he had been terrified throughout the day, found another horse, mounted it, and then sat on it, perfectly still, in plain view · of his men, throughout the rest of the bombardment. Such was the role of officers.
General Warren, the engineer who had helped save the day at Little Round Top, was still there, watching to the north. He realized that the Union counter-fire was very ineffective and sent word to Meade. The Union commander sent orders to all his batteries directing them to cease-fire and conserve ammunition for the expected infantry assault.
His orders reached the various batteries that had been firing at different times, meaning they fell silent gradually, giving the impression to the Confederates that they were stopping because they were running short of ammunition. This, combined with the selective withholding of pieces by the Union artillery commander, led the Confederate artillery commander to decide his fire had been extremely effective in silencing the Union guns. Thus, even if he had agreed with the message Longstreet had sent him earlier in the day, he would not have acted on it.
The Confederate artillery commander then hastily:>penned a note for Pickett: “For God’s sake come quick.”
With his own guns just about out of ammunition, he gave the order to save fire, then looked over his shoulder, anxiously awaiting the attack.
The courier found Pickett in conversation with Longstreet. Pickett read the note, then handed it without comment to his corps commander. Longstreet read it without comment.
“General, shall I advance?” the excited Pickett asked.
Longstreet could not speak. He bowed his head.
Pickett saluted. “I shall lead my division forward, sir.” He pulled a note out of his tunic and gave it to Longstreet. “For my fiancée.” Then he bound onto his horse and galloped off, without seeing the tears that were streaming down Old Pete’s face.
Longstreet wiped the tears from his cheeks and rode forward. He was dismayed to find that the battery of guns he had ordered held in reserve to support Pickett during the advance were nowhere to be seen. He learned they had retired to the rear and that it would take an hour for them to be brought back forward. This delay would extend the time between the end of the barrage and the assault too long.
Longstreet shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as he saw that Pickett’s men were moving. It was now three in the afternoon.
General Warren on Little Round Top saw the advance from his vantage point and had signalmen with flags relay the message, north. Along Cemetery Ridge the infantry slowly peeked over the stonewall. Wounded were carried off, ammunition was brought forward, and artillery pieces were lined up and zeroed in.