Truman Everts was a 19th-century American public servant who took stewardship of money to some fairly impressive extremes.
Wilderness survival. A river of ink has been spilled on that thorny subject. “Survival Experts” of a variety of stripes have eked lucrative livings out of eating vile stuff on television in the name of besting nature. Reality is a bit different.
I spent more than my share of time in the boonies back when I was a soldier. On a couple of occasions, a handful of mates and I airlifted into the wilds of Alaska to spend a week living on Arctic grayling, ptarmigan, and whatever else we could scrounge. Don’t be impressed with that. Alaska in the summertime makes that pretty darn easy. If nothing else, the entire state is covered in a thin patina of berries.
I completed the Army’s Northern Warfare Mountain Survival course and the USAF Arctic Survival School. They called the latter “Cool School.” I would more accurately refer to it as the “US Air Force Food Appreciation Course.” I actually got hungry enough to eat a boiled rabbit, but that’s a story for another day.
The typical human can actually make it about 30 days without food. However, that’s in a safe, controlled environment. Do that in the 19th-century American wilderness, and something is going to eat your emaciated butt for dinner. Now, hold that thought …
Truman Everts’ wilderness adventures captivated America. This is an image from a period article on the subject.
The Guy
Born in 1816 in Burlington, Vermont, Truman Everts was one of six brothers. His Dad was a ship’s captain. During the American Civil War, Truman earned a position as assessor of Internal Revenue for the Montana Territory. Abraham Lincoln signed his appointment. He served in this role from 1864 until 1870.
I guess as a sort of retirement gift to himself, in 1870, Everts struck out as part of an expedition led by Nathaniel Langford and Henry Washborn into what would eventually become Yellowstone National Park. On September 9, Everts fell behind for some reason. In short order, he lost his packhorse along with most of his grub. Now bereft of both sustenance and equipment, Everts trekked along the southern shore of Yellowstone Lake in an effort at locating his comrades.
Meanwhile, Langford and Washborn were actively trying to find the lost tax man. They fired their weapons into the air and built giant fires. They had a pre-established rendezvous point. However, once the expedition arrived, there was no sign of Everts. Eventually, they just gave up.
Mount Everts in Yellowstone National Park named after Truman Everts.
A Serendipitous Turn of Events
On October 16, some 37 days after Everts wandered away from the group, a pair of local mountain men — George Pritchett and “Yellowstone Jack” Baronett — happened upon this half-dead tax assessor. The poor man was delirious, frostbitten, and burned from hovering around natural geothermal vents in an effort to keep warm. He weighed a mere ninety pounds.
Baronett and Pritchett had actually been dispatched to recover Everts’ body. Imagine their surprise when they discovered him wandering about, delirious, some 50 miles from where he had first become separated from his party. One of the two rescuers stayed behind to help nurse Everts back to health while the other trekked a further 75 miles to get help.
Everts had subsisted mostly on raw thistle roots. This particular plant was subsequently named “Everts’ Thistle” in his honor. Henry Washburn later christened a mountain peak near Mammoth Hot Springs “Mount Everts” in recognition of his remarkable feat of survival. Everts penned a book titled “Thirty-Seven Days of Peril” that gained him some modest notoriety. However, all was not unicorns and butterflies for Truman Everts.
Everts harrowing adventure still available in print.
Those two mountain men weren’t out hunting Everts’ moldy old corpse just for giggles. There was a reward for his recovery. However, Everts himself insisted that the reward not be disbursed. He claimed that he had been fine and would have successfully walked out under his own steam if only they had let him be.
Given his fame, Everts was offered the position of first superintendent of Yellowstone National Park. While this was a prestigious thing, Everts turned down the offer as it paid quite literally nothing. He instead took a job in a post office in Hyattsville, Maryland. This unkillable guy eventually succumbed to pneumonia in his home in 1901. In the end, Truman Everts was indeed ever the tight-fisted tax man.
“If war was made more terrible, it would have a tendency to keep peace among the nations of the earth.” – Richard Gatling, Inventor of the Gatling Gun
Richard Gatling was born in Hertford County, NC, on December 12, 1818. His father was a prosperous farmer and inventor, and the son was destined to inherit the “invention bug.”
After three of his sisters died at a young age from disease, Richard Gatling decided to study medicine, and graduated from the Ohio Medical College in Cincinnati in 1850. He moved to Indianapolis the same year, and in 1854 married the daughter of a prominent local physician. There is no evidence that Richard Gatling ever practiced medicine after leaving medical school, but he was always referred to as “doctor.”
Gatling was a born inventor. Between 1857 and 1860 he patented a steam plow, a rotary plow, a seed planter, a lath-making machine, a hemp rake, and a rubber washer for tightening gears. One day in 1861, with the Civil War only a few months old, Dr. Gatling’s inventive fervor suffered a shock that would turn his mind from machines of peace to machines of war. From his Indianapolis office window, Gatling watched in horror as wounded and maimed soldiers were unloaded from a train—casualties from the southern killing fields.
The doctor was aware that the conflict was being waged in Napoleonic fashion. Men faced each other in solid ranks—aimed, fired, reloaded—and, on command, charged headlong into the blazing guns of the enemy. For several nights Richard Gatling could not sleep. A single idea occupied his thoughts. What if a few soldiers could duplicate the firepower of a hundred men? Troops would no longer be able to stand still and shoot at each other. And the running charge would be impossible, because the attacking force would be mowed down like tall grass.
Gatling reasoned that if he were able to invent a machine that could plant seeds swiftly, accurately, and in precise rows, he should be able to devise a mechanical gun that would spray bullets like water from a garden hose.
British sailors put a Gatling gun to use in the 1870s. British took their Gatlings to the colonial outposts and used them in their fights against native uprisings.
Invention of the Gatling Gun
Within a few weeks, the doctor had completed the drawings for his innovative weapon, the “Gatling gun,” and took the sketches to a machinist to manufacture.
The first Gatling gun consisted of a cluster of six rifle barrels, without stocks, arranged around a center rod. Each barrel had its own bolt, and the entire cluster could be made to revolve by turning a crank. The bolts were covered by a brass case at the breech. Cartridges were fed into a hopper, and as the cluster revolved, each barrel was fired at its lowest point, and then reloaded when the revolution was completed.
The gun was mounted upon a wheeled carriage. Two men were required to operate the weapon—one to sight the target and turn the crank, the other to load the ammunition.
A working model was completed within six months, and a public demonstration was held across Graveyard Pond in Indianapolis. The abrupt, rapid noise of gunfire could be heard for five miles and, at 200 rounds per minute, the bullets cut a 10-inch tree in half in less than 30 seconds.
Dr. Gatling patented his gun on November 4, 1862, but he had a difficult time selling it to the Army. General James Wolfe Ripley, chief of ordnance, was not impressed with the weapon and remarked: “You can kill a man just as dead with a cap-n’-ball smooth-bore.”
Gatling was unperturbed, however, and took his diagrams to a manufacturing company in Cincinnati. Twelve of the Gatling guns were built, and a few of them were sold to General Benjamin Butler for $1,000 each. Butler later used the Gatlings to hold a bridgehead against Confederate cavalry at the James River.
Americans of the 59th Artillery, 8th Infantry Division fire a Vulcan gun in Vietnam in 1970. The Vulcans were designed using the principles of Gatlings developed more than a century earlier.
In early trials of the Gatling gun, it was regarded by the military as a supplement to artillery. The tests that were conducted compared the range and accuracy of the machine gun with the range and accuracy of grapeshot fired by artillery pieces.
Richard Gatling continued to modify and improve the weapon, and in 1865 patented a model that was capable of firing 350 rounds per minute. A demonstration was held at Fortress Monroe. This time the ordnance department was impressed and ordered a hundred guns. The Gatling gun was officially adopted by the U.S. Army on August 24, 1866. It was first manufactured by Cooper Arms in Philadelphia, and later by the Colt Arms Company of Hartford, Conn.
Europe and Abroad
Dr. Gatling traveled throughout Europe selling his weapon, and new models were continually being designed. A short-barrel variety was purchased by the British and mounted on camels. This so-called “camel gun” was also used by the U.S. Army and Navy.
As settlers moved west after the Civil War, Army garrisons in forts along the frontier housed Gatling guns. Gatlings were also attached to cavalry expeditions. A Gatling detachment under Lieutenant James W. Pope accompanied General Nelson A. Miles’s campaign into west Texas. On August 30, as an advance party of Army scouts entered a trail that led between two high bluffs, about three hundred Indians charged down the cliffs. At the sound of gunfire, Pope quickly brought up his Gatling guns. The rapid, withering fire scattered the attacking warriors, and they fled in confusion.
During the same year, a battalion of 8th Cavalry, commanded by Major William R. Price, was ordered out to suppress an uprising by several Indian tribes, including Arapaho, Cheyenne, Comanche, and Kiowa. Price was able to successfully fight off several surprise attacks by hostile bands with two Gatling guns.
A Gatling gun set up outside Santiago, Cuba, during the Spanish-American War of 1898. By this time Gatlings were integrated into larger army maneuvers and actions.
But in the most famous battle of the Indian Wars, the Gatling was strangely absent. On June 22, 1876, Maj. Gen. George Armstrong Custer and his 7th Cavalry rode out from their Powder River camp and headed for the Little Big Horn River. Custer had been offered three Gatling guns but refused them.
He felt that the Gatlings—mounted on horse-drawn carriages—would slow his cavalry troop down in rough country. Custer also believed that the use of such a devastating weapon would cause him to “lose face” with the Indians. Whether or not the Gatlings could have saved Custer and his 200 men is questionable. Some accounts report the column of Indians that retreated after the battle as being three miles long and a half-mile wide.
During the next few years, the Gatling gun participated in a number of battles, including those with the Nez Perce. The warriors under Chief Joseph fought 13 engagements against the U.S. Army, many of which were standoffs. Finally, on September 30, 1877, in the Bear Paw Mountains of Montana, General Nelson Miles, with 600 men and a Gatling gun, attacked Chief Joseph’s camp. After four days of bitter fighting, Chief Joseph could hold out no longer. As he surrendered his rifle to Miles, the valiant Indian leader said, “My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.”
The Gatling Gun In Africa
During the latter part of the 19th century, Gatling guns became more and more popular, and were used in the many wars that flared during the 1880s and 1890s. The 1879 war between England and the African Zulu tribes was the first major land action in which the Gatling gun proved to be a deciding factor. A small British army, commanded by Lord Chelmsford, defeated a much larger Zulu force under King Cetywayo. In one encounter, a single Gatling mowed down more than 400 tribesmen in only a few minutes.
After his victorious campaign, Lord Chelmsford wrote: “They [Gatling guns] should be considered essentially as infantry weapons. They can be used effectively, not only in defense, but also in covering the last stage of an infantry attack upon a position—where the soldiers must cease firing and charge with the bayonet.”
By the time Dr. Gatling died in 1903, the automatic machine gun had arrived on the scene. It was powered by the discharging gases of its fired cartridges, and was simpler and more economical to use than the manually operated guns. In 1911, the U.S. Army declared the Gatling gun obsolete.
But Richard Gatling’s legacy did not die with him. In September 1956, the General Electric Company unveiled its 6-barrel aerial cannon called the Vulcan. For several years, General Electric had made a detailed study of every rapid-fire gun, and its engineers had found that Dr. Gatling’s original patents offered the most promise for the development of firepower necessary for fast jet fighter aircraft. The Vulcan was also put to use on attack helicopters and gunships.
Val Kilmer recently died at the young age of 65. Unfortunately, I wasn’t really a fan of his until it was too late. I first took notice of him when he portrayed Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, Tom Cruise’s nemesis in Top Gun. Kilmer was just three years older than me, and I believe Cruise is the same age, or thereabouts, so I could relate to their age mindset at the time of the movie.
Obviously, I’m no fighter pilot, but I had friends that were. Just about all fighter pilots are spilling over with confidence. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be effective in doing their job. They come across as cocky and arrogant, which is not uncommon for most people who are at the top of their game in complex fields, such as surgeons, professional athletes, and yes, fighter pilots.
Old timers know the plot of the movie, so we won’t go there. But the main thing to take away for this purpose is the feelings we all had at that age.
In our early 20s, we’re brimming full of testosterone, giving us a sense of invincibility. It’s why young men enlist in the military or become cops. They seek action and excitement and never think they’ll get hurt or killed. That’s how it was for me. Plus, at that age, who doesn’t love supersonic fighter jets and aerial combat with electronic “lock-on” with missiles?
The famous line, “I feel the need, the need for speed,” was applicable to all of us back then. While Cruise was the renegade stallion, “Iceman,” though cocky, was more disciplined and under control. While everyone rooted for “Maverick,” you had to respect Kilmer’s character for having disciplined control.
I’ve watched Top Gun too many times to admit. I always stop and watch it whenever I come across it while channel surfing. It reminds me of the good old days of being young, carefree and invincible.
Tombstone
Fast forward to 1993. Kilmer portrayed famed fast-draw gunman Doc Holliday in Tombstone, perhaps what would become his most famous role. Kilmer stole the show, as they say, as he delivered his lines with perfection in a slow, witty drawl. As a matter of fact, when I first heard of Kilmer’s death, this was the movie I felt I needed to watch; he was so good in it.
Kilmer lost over 30 pounds for the role of the dying Holliday, practicing a proper “southern aristocrat accent” that the real Holliday spoke.
Fun fact: The real Doc Holiday was a cousin, several generations removed, of Margaret Mitchell — author of “Gone With the Wind.” Between a slew of witty responses, fast gun handling and being Wyatt Earp’s loyal friend, you couldn’t help loving the character he portrayed. Here are a few top quotes by Kilmer in the movie:
• “I’m your huckleberry.”
• “You’re no daisy at all.”
• “My hypocrisy goes only so far.”
• “Why Johnny Ringo, you look like somebody walked over your grave.”
• “It would appear that the strain was more than he could bear.”
• “I’ve yet now begun to defile myself.”
When most people I know think of Tombstone, they all mention Kilmer’s portrayal of Holliday and say he was the best Doc Holliday, period, in any movie.
Ghost and the Darkness
A few years later, Kilmer portrayed Lt. Col. John Henry Patterson in The Ghost and the Darkness. Patterson was summoned to oversee the construction of the Uganda-Mombasa Railway in Kenya in 1898.
Progress of the railroad was slowed by the attack of workers by two hungry lions who attacked the men at night. Between 35 and 135 men disappeared in just a few months’ time.
Patterson is a dedicated hunter and takes on the task of hunting the two renegade lions. The movie is based on Patterson’s book, “The Man-eaters of Tsavo,” detailing his experiences and eventual taking of the two lions.
The beautiful scenery, animals, vintage rifles and excitement will keep you glued to your seat. It’s one of my favorite movies, and another I had to rewatch after hearing of Kilmer’s death.
Top Gun: Maverick
The latest movie starring Kilmer came out in 2022. In my opinion, Top Gun: Maverick was an excellent sequel. Maverick is a test pilot and still manages to keep himself at odds with his superiors. However, his nemesis, “Iceman,” is now a four-star admiral and commander of the U.S. Pacific fleet. He has a soft spot for Maverick and shows it by continuously bailing him out of problems he runs into.
Cruise and Kilmer became close friends in real life after Top Gun. In fact, Cruise wanted Kilmer in the sequel and made special accommodations for him and his needs while battling throat cancer. Like the original, I’ve watched this movie more times than I care to admit.
RIP Iceman
After hearing of Val Kilmer’s death, I started thinking of him and the roles he played over the years. These are my favorites. Being a fellow boomer, it hits close to home. Thanks for the memories, Iceman, Doc and Lt. Col. Patterson. You’ll be terribly missed, but your life and memories will live on through your work, so you’ll never be forgotten.