Behind the Lines
By William C. Davis · Originally published September-October 2025 · pp. 4–5

Behind the Lines By William C. Davis
Ihave long observed a strict rule: “Never say ‘no’ to the Of course, as with any organization, the NPS has had National Park Service.” For over fifty years, whenever its lapses and embarrassments in interpreting the Civil asked to speak or participate in a Park Service program, I War. Only when the Civil War Centennial got going was have always accepted unless some unalterable conflict made it discovered that on some of the battlefields, stands of it impossible. No other branch of government delivers as ammunition decoratively placed beside some artillery were much benefit-per-tax-dollar to the public. No one works for the wrong kind. That was soon remedied but in the runup to NPS expecting to get rich. The staff at Civil War Parks—and the opening of the Centennial, there were other mishaps. In elsewhere—are resolute, sometimes beyond comprehension. Many park historians have dedicated their lives to their battlefields, to the point of stunting their careers in a service where advancement often depends on their willingness to move from place to place. Outstanding historians like Dennis Frye, Robert Krick, Jim Ogden, and more, not to mention the legendary Edwin C. Bearss, have advanced our understanding and interpretation of the history of their subjects beyond measure. It is often forgotten that our Civil War parks were first created in part by veterans wanting to memorialize their experiences, and by the old War Department, which foresaw using the parks as living classrooms to verse officers in the “latest” in military science. It began with Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park in 1889, soon followed by Antietam, Shiloh, Gettysburg, and Vicksburg. For several years prior to the July 21, 1961 centennial anniversary of The War Department erected the First Battle of Manassas, numerous individuals and organizations observation towers at Gettysburg, began planning a large reenactment of the battle to mark the for instance, to allow students to see occasion. Manassas superintendent Francis Wilshin was a big how and where tactical movements supporter of the concept, believing that a large recreation of the battle decided the battle. Actual military on Henry Hill would be a useful interpretive tool for the public to maneuvers were conducted on the understand, appreciate and commemorate the fight that had occurred fields as well until 1933, when the a century before. Pictured here are reenactors during the large event War Department handed the Civil on Henry Hill, July 21, 1861. Notice the edge of the Visitor Center War fields to the National Park in the background—covered in a camouflage canvas to diminish its Service. presence on the historic landscape. (NPS Collections)
the rush to create interpretive media for the visitors’ centers, some results showed the hurry, as with the film for Shiloh, which had some embarrassing lapses, not least bare-chested artillerymen firing their cannon unaware that the waistbands of their modern briefs had worked their way into view. And many still remember the reenactment at Manassas National Battlefield Park in July 1961, the management of much of which was turned over to a private firm. Thousands attended and participated, with little control over safety—several men were injured by carelessly handled firearms—and almost none over authenticity. Worse, all the activity did severe damage to the field, and resulted in the wise decision to allow no more reenactments on park grounds. Once recognized, all those sorts of things were corrected as a new professionalism took hold on the part of park superintendents, historians, and interpretive staff. Indeed, they were sometimes accused of going too far in their quest for accuracy. Not long before the Battle of Gettysburg, the slopes of Little Round Top were cleared of trees by locals. In the ensuing century, all of that grew back, and locals and visitors alike enjoyed shady scenic spots for picnics and summer leisure. So, when park management cleared out all of that to return the slope to its 1863 appearance, there was an outcry, a good reminder that Americans visit these parks for multiple reasons and not just historical appreciation. Anyone following current events knows that National Parks are facing hard challenges today. The Park Service has always been an easy target for legislators hunting budget cuts, and today it is no exception. In February 1,000 entry
level staff, many hired for the summer months of highest park visitation, were laid off. Happily, most have been returned to their jobs, but that does not mean that NPS can breathe easily. Supposed “marginal” branches of the federal payroll will always come first into the sights of cost-cut hunters. They deserve more respect and appreciation. They are the standard bearers for our 3-dimensional historical venues, fighting just as hard today to preserve and interpret the follies and sacrifices of our ancestors, as those ancestors themselves struggled over these fields. Visit the Civil War parks—all of them in fact—and take a step out of your way to thank the staff and compliment them on jobs well done. They deserve it. And remember, “Never say ‘no’ to the National Park Service.”
William C. Davis was managing editor, then editor,
then publisher of Civil War Times Illustrated from 1969
to 1990. He is the author or editor of more than 50 books in Civil War and Southern history, and former director of the Virginia Center for Civil War Studies at Virginia
Tech, where he served as professor of history until 2013. His most recent book is The Whartons’ War: The Civil War Correspondence of General Gabriel C. Wharton and Anne Radford Wharton, 1863–1865, co-edited with Sue Heth Bell.
Photographs from the Original Article
Captions and credits appear in the article text as originally printed.

