The ghosts of an historic Civil War fight hang over the fields and woodlands of this once bloody battlefield. And unknown to many visitors, a modern battle rages, too, over the killing of hundreds of deer.
"The deer were eating the park," said park superintendent John Latschar. "At times you could see more deer than tourists."To limit the damage, the National Park Service systematically shot and killed nearly 900 deer on the battlefield during the past two winters. Another attempt to trim the herd this fall was put on hold by a federal judge because of a lawsuit.
The problem is not limited to Gettysburg. As they search for food, growing numbers of deer are straying into suburban back yards, along a federal seashore on Long Island, N.Y., and into farm fields, where they decimate crops. Last April during rush hour, one wandering deer paid a visit to the White House and became trapped in the fence.
"We've seen the whitetail deer go from where it was a rare event to see one to where it is now the most abundant big-game species in North America," said Douglas Inkley, a biologist for the National Wildlife Federation.
At Gettysburg, the deer herd grew without challenge from natural predators and from humans, since hunting is not allowed in the park.
Depending on who tells the story, the deer kills have been either a necessary action to save one of America's most sacred war memorials or an arrogant and unnecessary slaughter of nearly 1,000 animals with little regard to history or environmental consequences.
Beginning in the fall of 1995 and following through two winters, park rangers waged military-style campaigns to eradicate the Gettysburg herd. Riflemen in camouflage shot deer from tree platforms and from the backs of pickup trucks. They often worked at night, using spotlights and night-vision goggles to find deer as they fed.
The Park Service said 503 deer were killed in 1995 and 355 were killed last year. Critics put the number much higher, saying many wounded deer wandered outside the park to die. Some got caught in fences and died; at least one crashed through the picture window of a nearby house.
One resident, Joan Murphy, complained in a court deposition of "rangers in a party mood doing wheelies in trucks while shooting deer on the most sacred spots of the battlefield." Her neighbor, Lisa Settle, said she "imagined constantly a stray bullet coming into my window."
Park officials said they could not comment on the specific allegations made in connection with the lawsuit and referred questions to the Justice Department.
Latschar said some of the claims raised by critics are "far fetched." He said the herd-reduction program, which he ordered, was the safest and cheapest way to deal with the problem.
But many of the critics question whether the deer were actually threatening the historic nature of the battlefield, or whether they were more of an economic nuisance to influential tenant farmers.
"It's a complete ruse," argued attorney Katherine Meyer, who represents the Last Chance for Animals, Fund for Animals, and a half-dozen local residents in the lawsuit.