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Lives of the Great 1934 (03) U S Grant
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Lives of the Great 1934 (03) U S Grant
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What do you think makes the perfect snack? Hmm, it's gotta be when I'm really craving it and it's convenient. Could you be more specific? When it's cravenient. Okay, Like a freshly baked cookie made with real butter, available right down the street at a.m. p.m. Or a savory breakfast sandwich I can grab in just a second at a.m. p. M. I'm seeing a pattern here. Well, yeah, we're talking about what I crave, which is anything from AM PM what more could you want? Stop by AM PM where the snacks and drinks are perfectly craveable and convenient. That's cravenience. AM PM Too much good stuff. The subject of our story is a man who was a success at 25, an outcast at 30, and a miserable failure at 39, but who was the most popular and successful military commander in the world at 41. Our story then is that of Hiram Ulysses Grant, mistakenly known to history as Ulysses S. Grant. To begin our story, let us pick up his life in the year 1848 on the day of August 2nd. Grant. Lieutenant Grant, five years out of west point, has just been married to Ms. Julia Dental. The ceremony has just been completed as our story begins. Grant, you young rascal. I don't need to tell you that as Julia's father, I expect you to be good to her. I will, sir. You may be sure of that. But of course, lieutenant. A woman, like a regiment, needs a bit of discipline at times. Don't mind your father, Julia. He's only teasing. Well, if I thought he was in earnest, I'd have my husband's soldiers take him prisoner and teach him a thing or two about discipline. You see? Grand how the women can conspire against us men. You will be kind to her though, Ulysses. Soldiers are so, so, so rough, so hard hearted. Gaze upon your daughter, who is now my wife. Could anyone look at her and be anything other than kind and good to her? Well, you'd better be. I intend to be the general in our little army. And when we have a regiment of infantry running around the house, I declare I'm so happy I feel like singing. What shall we sing? If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to sing Aul lang syne. I've been thinking about some of my old classmates. I haven't seen them for years. Excellent. Just a moment. I'll play the piano to show the quaint hands me for gout and everflam. So lieutenant Grant was married. Following his marriage, he was transferred to lonely army post on the pacific coast with tragic Results to his career. It is five years later, the year 1854. Captain Simon Bolivar Buckner of the United States army is driving through Battery park in New York City near midnight of a rainy, miserable night. With him is a young brother officer. They are discussing old days at West Point. Sherman, it's almost tragic the things life does to us sometimes. Sure, Buckner, life wouldn't be life if there wasn't a bit of. Of sorrow in it now and then. I'm thinking now of an old classmate, Ulysses S. Grant. We graduated from West Point together. We served in different divisions during the Mexican War and I haven't seen him for years. Well, that's life. I say, Buckner, look at that park bench yonder. Isn't that a man sitting there? Huh? Yes. I say, he wears the uniform of the United States Army. Private, perhaps. Oh, he mustn't sit there in the rain. He'll die of pneumonia. Driver. Oh, driver, stop the carriage. Yes, sir. Come along, Sherman. Very well. Attention. Soldier. I say, soldier. Attention. Oh, leave me alone. I'll have you under arrest for insubordination, sir. Attention, I say. Attention. Be. Oh, all right. There. How's that? Who are you? What is your regiment? Why haven't you shaved, sir? You have a three day stand up beard on your face. Your own mother wouldn't recognize you. To say nothing of the man who was once my best friend. What's your name? What is your rank? Until a month ago, I was a captain in the United States Army. Captain Ulysses S. Grant. Grant. Ulysses S. Grant. Sitting on a park bench in the rain. Oh, Grant, my friend, I. What has happened, Grant? What's the meaning of all this? Well, it isn't a long story. The army post in Oregon, you heard of it? A deadly place, butler. No duties, no work, just monotony. Some of the officers and men enjoyed themselves as soldiers, Will. You know what I mean? I didn't go quite that far, but I did drink. I understand. They say a soldier's legs are hollow. Mine were not. They wobbled a bit. They betrayed me to my superior officers. So they gave me the choice of resigning or of being court martialed. So I resigned. The Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis. And here you are. Grant, what would you do if you had $500? $500? Hmm. Buckner. There's a piece of timberland in Missouri where a man could build a cabin, take his wife, live down his past and make an honest living selling firewood. Firewood? Yes. Yes, that does sound reasonable. Well, come along. Where are you taking me? To the Railroad station. You're leaving tonight for majora. So Captain Simon Bolivar Buckner rescued Ulysses S. Grant from his park bench and gave him a new start in life. Five years later, Grant had fought his way back to a semblance of respectability. The civil war has begun. We find Grant occupied in clerical duties for officers of a volunteer regiment which has been formed in his Hometown, Galena, Illinois. 200 barrels of powder. Hundred barrels of flour. Oh, hang it all. What's wrong, Grant? Oh, I want to fight. I want to get in on this war. Oh, I know. I was cashiered out of the army. Now they won't give me another chance. They won't trust me with a command. The fools. Don't they know a soldier when they see one? They allow me to be a clerk. Why not a soldier? Grant, Just how badly do you want to do some real fighting? So badly that I'd welcome getting killed in the first skirmish. Do you want to go to war badly enough to accept command of a regiment of ruffians and vagabonds? A regiment one colonel after another has failed to control a regiment which doesn't want to do anything but drink and fight. In heaven's name, what are soldiers for? Give me a regiment like that and I'll whip the whole confounded south for you. Grant, the regiment I have in mind will either make you or break you beyond repair. If you can do anything with the 21st Illinois Volunteer Regiment of infantry, you will accomplish something no other man has been able to do. If you fail. I won't fail. Just give me the chance. Very well. I'll recommend you for the rank of colonel. And so Ulysses S. Grant again wore the insignia of the United States Army. His first order to his new command was typical of the man. After being introduced to his regiment by two political orators who spouted flowery rhetoric for nearly two hours, Grant finally was called upon to speak. He shuffled to a semblance of dignity, scowled out over the troops, and delivered his own oration. You men go to your quarters. Here was a kindred soul. The 21st Volunteer Regiment took its new colonel to its heart, and the regiment became famous for its absolute indifference to danger, its heroism under fire. The Civil war goes on. Grant becomes a brigadier general. February 1862. Grant is encamped before Fort Donaldson, which has resisted surrender with a gallantry born of despair. Lieutenant. Yes, general Grant? Any word from 4000? They have sent no answer yet. They will, even though I did tell them they had to agree to unconditional surrender. Your own initials Us, they might stand for unconditional surrender. I suppose some clever newspaper will begin calling me that. Well, I wish the commander of Fort Donelson, whoever he is, wasn't so confoundedly stubborn. I sent word to him that I propose to fight it out along this line if it takes all summer. Yes, sir. And your men are with you, sir? There are few workable rules for successful warfare, Lieutenant. Find out where your enemy is, get at him as soon as you can, strike him as hard as you can and keep moving on. You've certainly done all of that, sir. I'm here to see General Grant. I'm not going to be. See what the trouble is, Lieutenant? Yes, sir. Immediately, sir. Appointment to see General Grant, Commanding officer of Fort Donaldson. General Grant. He has come to discuss terms of surrender. Terms? I didn't give him any terms. I said unconditional surrender. And I meant just that. General Grant. My compliment, sir. Buckner. Buckner. You an officer of the Confederate Army? I am from Kentucky. You know Grant. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I have agreed to surrender Fort Donelson to you unconditionally. What are you going to do? I presume we are prisoners, Lieutenant. Leave us alone. Very good, sir. Sit down, Buckner. Thank you, General Grant. Buckner. You found me sleeping on a park bench once. You gave me $500. Let's not discuss that. Let's discuss my unconditional surrender. Buckner, the south is doomed. Your cause is lost. You'll be going home soon to try to patch the broken threads of your life, my friend. Your uniform is in rags. Your shoes are worn through to the ground. I'll wager you haven't eaten for days. Here, take this. Your purse. General Grant, I. I can't take this money. I haven't forgotten that park bench. Buckner, you're my prisoner. You'll do as I say. You said unconditional surrender. I'll amend that. You take this purse, Buckner, or I'll send you back to Fort Donaldson and bombard the daylights out of here. And so, in the surrender of Fort Donaldson, the two old friends, Ulyses S. Grant and Simon Bolivar Buckner, met again. It was a far cry from their happy days at West Point. A far cry too, from the park bench on the Battery on a rainy night. But Grant was destined to go even further. As far even as the presidency. And in fighting his way from blackest failure to the topmost pinnacle of success, Ulysses S. Grant inscribed his name in glowing letters among the lives of the great. Ram.