HEROES: Last Men

To eat. drink, sing and swagger on the 24th anniversary of the First Battle of Bull Run through which they all had fought. 34 Civil War Veterans of Company B, First Minnesota Volunteer Infantry, met at an inn at Stillwater. Minn, in 1885. There they organized the Last Man Club, pledged to assemble annually until only one member survived. Into a rosewood box they put a bottle of Burgundy with which the Last Man was to toast his dead comrades.

Last week came the last meeting of the Last Man Club. At the head of a table ringed with 33 crepe-decked chairs stood Charles Lockwood, 87, of Chamberlain. S. Dak. Tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks as he opened the bottle of wine. ”After our experiences in that war . . . it seemed funny to us.” he said. “But now (hat I am last I see no humor in it.” He filled his glass, held it aloft and recited as the Club had specified long ago: The camp fire smoulders—ashes jail; The clouds are black athwart the sky; No tap of drums, no bugle call; My comrades, all, Goodbye! He sipped the wine, set down his glass. The Burgundy had turned sour. Mused Last Man Lockwood: “We should have saved ourselves a bottle of old Irish whiskey instead. It would have been nice and oily now.”

¶ Last week at Ivy Hall, home of William Grimsley Wood near Culpepper, Va., assembled 35 Confederate veterans for a reunion. They had no club, no ritual, but mint juleps in frosted silver mugs were served them generously. The password: “Where’s Brandy Station?” Alexander Fontaine Rose, 84, of Mosby’s Brigade, did some spirited dancing. Oldest veteran: John L. Poe, 92, 49th Virginia Cavalry. Honor guest: Mrs. Eliza (“Mother”) Crim, famed Confederate nurse at the Battle of Newmarket.