When America's favorite groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, emerged from his cozy burrow at Gobbler's Knob, Feb. 2, 2025, he saw his shadow, and according to legend, that means we're in for six more weeks of winter.
Many Americans associate Groundhog Day with the clairvoyant rodent — or the 1993 comedy film that pokes fun at the festival — but a century ago, an extraordinary group of Ohioans may have celebrated the holiday differently. Far removed from the spectacle in Pennsylvania, their groundhog story began on the Civil War's hallowed battlefields.
In 1862, the soldiers of the 26th Ohio Volunteer Infantry earned the nickname "the Groundhog Regiment" for their remarkable ability to entrench at a moment's notice — sometimes digging protective works with nothing but bayonets, spoons or canteen cups.
Like all soldier competencies — from loading and discharging firearms to hand-to-hand combat — digging in was a skill best mastered quickly. The soldiers of the 26th Ohio soon realized that survival depended on earthworks and cover because the Union's demand for fresh troops offered little time for a thorough education; they would learn as they fought.
The 26th Volunteer Infantry: The Groundhog Regiment
Organized in June 1861 at Camp Chase in Columbus, Ohio, the regiment included volunteers from counties across the state.
Unlike many of its sister regiments, which filled their ranks with men from the same homogenous communities, the 26th Ohio was remarkably diverse. The unit's soldiers were from all walks of life, separated by class, culture and faith, but honor-bound by a shared desire to preserve the Union.
In an 1861 interview published in the Urbana Citizen and Gazette, Regimental Chaplain Leander Long described what inspired "professed Christians," agnostic gentlemen and unabashed "sinners" to fight as one.
"There seems to be gathered together every kind of man in our regiment, but there is one thing on which they all agree," he said. "They are determined to maintain and defend the Stars and Stripes."
Hastily thrust into combat, the regiment tangled with Confederate militia in West Virginia and Kentucky during the Civil War's early years before participating in major battles in the Western Theater. As the conflict dragged on, the Groundhog Regiment gained a reputation for their commitment to discipline — and their entrenching proficiency.
The unit saw hard fighting in several significant engagements. It took part in the bloodbath at the Battle of Shiloh in April 1862 and fought determinedly under Army Maj. Gen. William Rosecrans at the Battle of Stones River later that year before marching with the Army of the Cumberland through Tennessee in July 1863.
By then, many of the Ohioans assigned to the Groundhog Regiment were no longer strangers to the crack of a rebel Pattern 1853 Enfield rifle-musket or the sulfuric stench of cannon fire. But even the unit's hardened veterans were unprepared for the calamitous fighting that awaited them in Chickamauga.
That fall, with Confederate Gen. Braxton Bragg's forces determined to drive the Cumberland Army out of northern Georgia, the 26th Ohio found itself at the center of one of the war's bloodiest contests: the Battle of Chickamauga.
On Sept. 19, 1863, the Groundhog Regiment attacked Bragg's Army of Tennessee at the Viniard Fields — a line of dense vegetation flanking open ground. Fierce close-quarters combat erupted, where the rebels' accurate rifles proved devastating.
There, the 26th Ohio had little chance to dig in. Unrelenting Confederate assaults forced the regiment into repeated engagements over open ground. Bragg's Army rained Minié balls on the infantry from their concealed positions in the wood line. In an interview with the Madison County Union, Army Pvt. James Treahorn offered a vivid description of the Groundhogs' toughest engagement to date.
"Our boys met them steadily; demonian yells filled the air, mingled with the groans of the dying," he said. "Though [we] were forced back by superior number, [we] rallied and drove [off] the enemy."
Throughout the Civil War, movement through open terrain invited staggering casualties. Because rifled firearms vastly outperformed older smoothbore muskets, entrenchments or breastworks were essential for survival. During the Battle of Chickamauga, however, the Groundhog Regiment could not count on the very skill that defined its nickname. There was simply no time. In the north Georgia wilderness, the regiment suffered one of the war's most devastating single-day casualty rates.
"Digging In" on the Modern Battlefield
Today, combat technology continues to evolve, but the usefulness of a well-dug defensive position remains. On the Ukrainian front, trenches have reemerged as a brutal fixture of 21st-century warfare.
Like the Civil War soldiers who faced vastly improved rifle fire, troops on both sides of the Ukrainian conflict now contend with modern impediments to maneuver, including drones, loitering munitions and accurate artillery. After nearly two centuries of war, cutting-edge weaponry has rendered the margins slimmer and the risks greater. Remotely operated drones can drop grenades directly into entrenchments. "A combination of concealment from visual detection and thermal imaging is important for surviving in trenches," said retired Army Lt. Gen. Ben Hodges about surviving today's evolving battlefield in a 2023 Task and Purpose interview.
During the Battle of Chickamauga, the 26th Ohio infantrymen discovered that speed and valor could not shield them from an enemy concealed in the dense tree line. Their skill at digging in was neutralized by the pace of that chaotic battle. In Ukraine today, loitering munitions and drones fill the role that rifled firearms once did — granting defenders a lethal advantage against an advancing enemy.
From the Minié balls at Chickamauga to the modern perils on the Ukrainian front, whenever technology outpaces maneuver, hastily built defenses can mean the difference between life and death.
The 26th Ohio's nickname, Groundhog Regiment, once considered whimsical, remains a testament to hard-earned battlefield wisdom. Though their entrenching expertise couldn't spare them from the bloody chaos at Chickamauga, their story reminds us that — whether in 1863 or 2025 — there's value in digging in.