The "Heroes" of the Hunley

I’m a sucker for shipwrecks.  I don’t know why, but there’s something about the presence of a massive structure sitting on a seabed for, sometimes, centuries that just engages my imagination; the envelope of water makes even the most mundane details magical. 

            A few years ago, I had a chance to visit the C.S.S. Hunley, the first successful submarine (successful in the sense of being able to actually kill people other than its own crew—at which it was also remarkably successful.)  On February 17, 1864, the Hunley rammed the Federal warship Housatonic, which was enforcing a blockade of Charleston Harbor, planted a torpedo in its hull, and exploded it.  For the first time, a massive warship sank, helpless against eight men and a mine.

            You have to see the Hunley to really understand just how stupendous a feat this was.  Its propulsion was by a hand crankshaft linked to one small propeller, and operated by eight sailors.  They could not sit upright, but rather were hunched over nearly ninety degrees.  They had to “power” for a mile and a half just to get to their target, and then crank all the way back.  The air was foul, and the illumination provided only by candle.  What really impressed me were the two hatches, about the diameter of a basketball hoop.  These were small, strong men—and once they squeezed into this thing, it would have been impossible to squeeze back out in a hurry.

            And they didn’t.  The Hunley sank after this mission,  drowning all the crew, just as it had twice before.  When it was raised in 2000, all eight were still at their stations.

            Heroes?  To my mind, certainly.  I cannot imagine doing what they did, and I have to admire and honor what they did.  But I’m troubled by that admiration.  They bravely sacrificed their lives, all right, but they did it for an evil cause.

            The crew of the Hunley were Confederates.  They may have had many personal reasons for committing to the side that they did, but ultimately, by doing so, they were committing to the ideal of white supremacy.  The Confederacy was dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal—but that huge numbers of people were not, well, men (or women).  Some people could be property, legally equivalent to cattle and horses.  Moreover, they were part of a culture that had engaged in ethnic cleansing, including the Trail of Tears, and that was openly advocating imperialistic expansion to Cuba, Mexico and Central America.

            Is heroism dependent upon the cause for which it’s expressed?  Can we appreciate the bravery of Nazis at the Siege of Stalingrad or the Battle of the Bulge, or the sacrifices of the Japanese at Iwo Jima?  Can bravery be recognized apart from the bearer’s ideals?

            For the first time in 150 years, we now have the chance to see the Hunley clearly.  Can we?

            Watch the following video from CBS News:  http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-18563_162-57363382/restoring-a-piece-of-s.c.s-civil-war-history/?tag=cbsnewsTwoColLowerPromoArea;fd.morenews