Updated June 20, 2001

It is not clear if Lee was with Longstreet's corps that afternoon, surely he must have been when a major part of his army was about to go into action. What follows, although completely fictional, is from Michael Shaara's book The Killer Angels, but it does give an insight into Lee's thinking on this day. Although Longstreet seems just a little too cheery in this dialogue.

A courier came down the dusty lane, "Message from General Hood, sir."

"Yes." Politely, Lee waited.

"The General says to tell you that the Yankees are moving troops up on the high Rocky Hill, the one to the right. And there's a signal team up there." Lee nodded, gave his compliments.

"That was to be expected. Tell General Hood that General Meade might have saved himself the trouble. We'll have that hill before night." The courier rode off. Lee turned back to Longstreet, with whom he had been riding.

"You know," Lee said slowly, looking eastward again, toward the heights, "when I awoke this morning I half thought he'd be gone, General Meade, that he would not want to fight here. When I woke up I thought, yes, Meade will be gone, and Longstreet will be happy, and then I can please Old Pete, my warhorse."

"We'll make him sorry he stayed." Longstreet grinned.

"They fought well yesterday. They will fight well again today."

Longstreet smiled. "We'll see."

Then Lee said slowly, in a strange, soft, slow tone of voice, "Soldiering has one great trap." Longstreet turned to see his face. Lee was riding slowly ahead, without expression. "To be a good soldier you must love the army. But to be a good officer you must be willing to order the death of the thing you love. We don't fear our own deaths, you and I." He smiled slightly, then glanced away. "We protect ourselves out of military necessity, not fear. We are not afraid to die. We are prepared for our own deaths and for the deaths of comrades." He paused. He had been gazing straight ahead, away from Longstreet. Now, black-eyed, he turned back, glanced once quickly into Longstreet's eyes, then looked away. "We are never prepared for so many to die. Do you understand? No one is. We expect some chosen few. We expect an occasional empty chair, a toast to dear departed comrades. But the war goes on and the men die and the price gets ever higher. We are prepared to lose some of us." He paused again. "But never all of us. Surely not all of us. But... that is the trap. You can hold nothing back when you attack. You must commit yourself totally. We are adrift in a sea of blood. I want this to be the final battle."

With that, Lee rode off.