Why We Read, Why We Write

By Brian S. Wills, Ph.D. · Originally published November 2017 · p. 26

Despite the title, I do not purport to speak for anyone, much less everyone, else in or out of the profession, but I can say that History is special to me. I enjoy participating in the process of it. Uncovering information in the original sources or learning something new in the existing literature, coupled with the desire to share insights or new material with others represents the ultimate satisfaction in understanding why I read and why I write. My interest in History came early, with stories of great figures and powerful moments heard and read as a child. Our family vacations and the school field trips we took frequently led us to historical sites and as a Virginian from the Tidewater, Williamsburg, Yorktown, and Jamestown, or Monument Avenue in Richmond, were never far away. Mr. Jefferson’s Monticello hosted an inquisitive young person fascinated by the genius who had lived there. Arlington and Antietam (we learned to call it Sharpsburg, too), Fredericksburg, Manassas, and Petersburg, and, of course, Gettysburg, extended the scope of areas that involved a certain significant conflict. I also very much enjoyed Kings Mountain and Cowpens, which dovetailed nicely alongside our own Yorktown. Over the years the journey has come to include places like Shiloh (a personal favorite) and Stones River, Chickamauga, Kennesaw, Brice’s and Parker’s Crossroads, Pea Ridge and Perryville, Franklin and Fort Donelson, and many other places where the men of the 1860s struggled, bled, and died. Among the iconic sites that remained stamped indelibly in my consciousness outside the Civil War/War Between the States context, were the Alamo, Little Big Horn, Pearl Harbor, Chalmette, Saratoga, and San Jacinto. Then, there were trips to the Imperial War Museum in London and the beaches of Normandy. I still feel in Pattonesque-fashion, that I must have lived at Versailles and I felt the tremendous connection to Ireland while traversing that wondrous land. Each of these destinations, and many more, left an impression and opened the door to new reading and exploration before and after the fact of those visits. One of the first impacts from

History and historical figures came from the little scholastic readers a student could purchase, usually for seemingly princely sums begged from parents or bought out of allowances hoarded carefully for such occasions. I became a Green Bay Packer fan because of a book on Bart Starr and a Myles Keogh aficionado because of a volume on his horse, Comanche, who had survived Little Big Horn. These works meant more to me, and the subsequent interest I have taken with History, than I can convey realistically or adequately. Since those early years, numerous writers and historians have entered my life in important ways. My father, whose education did not extend to a college or university, built upon my foundation, as my mother, a teacher herself, had, by bringing home a short piece from a magazine devoted to the Tennessee walking horse. He raised, trained, and rode them, and thought I might find an article of interest. That short piece by Bob Womack was on a fascinating fellow named Nathan Bedford Forrest and his role in bringing the 1863 raid of Abel Streight to a successful, for the Confederates, at least, conclusion. My interest and desire to read and later write on that general was born. The young Virginian immersed in the lives of Robert E. Lee, “Stonewall” Jackson, and “Jeb” Stuart had a new figure to examine. Stephen Ambrose has been another powerful influence. We could go quickly back to Crazy Horse and Custer, and later, D-Day, to see it manifested. I always admired the fact that he seemed to tap into the larger national interest as an important anniversary approached, although my timing and topics never seemed to be so well-crafted. The work of Bell Irvin Wiley shaped my passion for Civil War soldiers and the efforts of scholars such as James I. “Bud” Robertson, Jr., and William C. “Jack” Davis did the same for various aspects of the conflict (and beyond as was the case with Jack’s excellent treatise on Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, and William Travis). Among the other influential modern authors, the work of Jeffry Wert stands out. He has tackled many subjects superbly, but one volume has reminded at least this one reader of the significant impact of the conflict of 1861-1865 on the most storied units. A Brotherhood of Valor captured the enormous price paid and the inevitable deterioration of the effectiveness of the Stonewall Brigade for the South and the Iron Brigade for the North. Both these iconic regiments emerged from the heaviest fighting of the war as shadows of themselves because of the exposure their members experienced and the consequent losses they suffered. Despite the reputations they garnered for their efforts, the survivors of these units found themselves subjected to challenges they could no longer surmount. My forays into other areas of study while a graduate student at the University of Georgia, and while I taught at Clinch Valley College of the University of Virginia, now the University of Virginia’s College at Wise, sent me into libraries in search of volumes on Roman History, Modern Africa, and numerous world conflicts like the RussoJapanese War. The latter allowed me to continue to explore the life and contributions of another favorite historical figure, Theodore Roosevelt. Likewise, my enjoyment of film, particularly those at least set in historical contexts, generated new pathways of exploration. As a fan of those Charlton Heston epics especially, I read volumes on Charles “Chinese” Gordon and El Cid after watching the cinematic features on them. Other films, shows, and documentaries sent me in different directions that yielded similar benefits. In each case, whether learning more about Churchill, Caesar (any of them, including the American one—Douglas MacArthur) or Cetshwayo, books remained the critical element and made all the difference in the quality of that journey. Such volumes have served as refuge as well as resource, informed my interests, and often laid the foundation for my own writing. We may very well enter the day when books as we have known them will no longer exist outside of repositories and the private collections of older generations, but inquiry through such tomes in one form or another will continue to shape our investigations and impose the imperatives that help to explain why we read and why we write. Brian Wills, of Kennesaw State University, is author of numerous books, including biographies of George Thomas and Bedford Forrest.