Getting in the Fight

The monitor USS Weehawken had run aground a mere twelve hundred yards from Fort Moultrie in Charleston Harbor, South Carolina, and was taking heavy fire from the Confederate batteries inside the fort. Union naval lieutenant Benjamin W. Loring yelled to his gun crew, "Fire!" The Weehawken's 15-inch Dahlgren gun belched and sent a 330-pound shell screaming toward Fort Moultrie. Loring's calm demeanor reassured his men. Only a few weeks earlier he had sighted and fired the first Union shell at Fort Sumter since it had been lost to the Confederates two years previously. It was deadly business, but he knew he had to be in the fight. "Reload!" As Loring's men worked to reload the massive gun his mind wandered back to more peaceful times for the briefest of moments.

On the side of a steep trail in the Sierra Nevadas of California Ben Loring knelt next to a small fire and warmed his hands. He reached for a steaming pot of coffee, filled a tin cup, and handed it to his younger brother, Bailey, before topping off his own. It was the middle of November 1861 and it was very cold. Loring unfolded the Monday, November 18, edition of the Sacramento Union and perused the columns. The first story that jumped out at him described another Union defeat at a place called Ball's Bluff in Virginia. Nearly one thousand soldiers had been killed or wounded during the battle. U.S. Senator Edward Baker, a colonel with the Federal forces at Ball's Bluff and a personal friend of President Lincoln, had been killed during the battle. Loring let that sink in for a moment and then slapped the paper against his thigh. Startled, Bailey jumped, spilling half his coffee. Glaring at his brother, he wondered what had gotten into him. No longer able to contain himself, Loring expressed his frustration through clenched teeth and tight lips. He explained to Bailey that he was sure the secessionists were going to tear the country apart. Loring had been agitated ever since the Confederates had fired on Fort Sumter in April 1861. Loring stood up, showed the newspaper to Bailey, and then read the story again himself. The words stared back at him in black and white. It was crystal clear: this was not just a disagreement that could be settled by disorganized troops brawling, as they had in the debacle at Bull Run. This was war. Loring looked his younger brother and business partner in the eye. In a low, calm, resolved voice he stated, "Bailey, I need to get in the fight. It is time. I must report, it is my duty." Loring wadded the paper up and threw it on the fire, muttering to himself, "Not on my watch." He was not going to allow these rebellious Southerners to tear his country apart even if it meant he had to lay down his life to prevent it.

Bailey turned away. He knew there was no point in arguing with his brother. He tightened the packs on the string of mules as Loring kicked snow on the fire, extinguishing it. The brothers made their way up the trail on their final trip together to deliver supplies to the gold miners in the mountains. After returning to Sacramento in the middle of January, Loring turned the entire business over to Bailey.

With only the clothes on his back, a few small personal items stuffed into a carpetbag, and a handful of gold coins tucked into his waist belt, Loring boarded a mail coach heading east. Riding on top of the mail bags, Loring bounced across the vast, wild continent for twelve days. Reaching Washington dc and the Navy Yard, he wasted no time and was mustered into service in the U.S. Navy on February 6, 1862. Commissioned an officer with the rank of acting master, he was ordered to report to Cmdr. A. Taylor in Mystic, Connecticut.

Just ninety days later, Loring found himself on the James River at Drewry's Bluff on board the uss Galena in command of a guns division as part of Gen. George B. McClellan's Peninsular Campaign. A year later, in June 1863, Loring and the crew of the uss Weehawken captured the Confederate ironclad ram Atlanta. Loring had the honor of commanding the Atlanta and guiding it into harbor. Just five months later he would do the same with the captured British schooner and blockade runner Alma, delivering the ship and its British captain, George Gordon, to naval authorities in Charleston harbor. Those were heady days. For his "gallant conduct in action" Loring was promoted to lieutenant on July 13, 1863. At the request of Capt. John Rodgers, he was transferred to and given command of the guns division and made the executive officer (second in command) on board the ironclad monitor uss Weehawken. The Weehawken was a formidable ship of the line. Crewed by seventy-five men, it was two hundred feet long with five inches of iron protecting its hull. Eleven inches of iron surrounded the turret, which accommodated imposing 15-inch and 11-inch Dahlgren guns.

Loring snapped back to attention as the turret pivoted about, bringing the bore of the 15-inch gun to point at its next target. He sighted down the barrel until Fort Moultrie was squarely in its sights, just across Charleston Harbor from Fort Sumter. Satisfied with the alignment, he again gave the order to fire. Flames burst from the maw of the big gun and the shell arced toward the fort. The huge Union shell found its mark. It hit an 8-inch Columbiad, splitting its barrel. Fragments of the shell and canon sheared off, throwing deadly shrapnel inside the fort. Metal chunks tore through nearby ammunition chests, igniting them. A horrific explosion erupted. Those men who were unlucky enough to be standing close by were ripped apart. Wood, stone, dirt, and pieces of men were flung one hundred feet into the air. Loring could see the explosion before the sound reached him and his men. He again gave the order...