At nightfall Camp Milton was reached, preparations were made for a battle. Co. G were thrown forward as skirmishers and advanced. The rebels had retreated.
Plenty of water was found in a narrow stream and the boys enjoyed their first cup of coffee of that day. They had marched thirty-two miles.
While they were eating their breakfast next morning, the pickets were driven in. As soon as possible Co. G were thrown forward. Pickets in front of them were firing rapidly. Co. G with arms at trail moved out in front a quarter of a mile, but saw nothing to shoot. The boys were not surprised—they had once camped on Folly Island.
Near noon the expedition started for Jacksonville, the 157th as rear guard. All went well until Camp Finnegan, twelve or fifteen miles from Jacksonville was reached. (Camps Milton and Finnegan were rebel camps). While crossing a small creek the enemy appeared on the opposite side of the clearing and opened fire at long range. A colored company, thrown out to cover the crossing, replied to the rebels. Again was Co. G ordered into skirmish line and their Enfield rifles soon closed the battle. One or two men were slightly wounded.
Many of the boys suffered on this return march, even more than on the preceding day. But they reached Jacksonville without further incident and were taken at once to the river and aboard a steamer. The events of the day had excited the people at headquarters and Col. Carmichael was ordered to again land his men and march them to the trenches for the night. He appealed for rations and was referred to the Sanitary Commission Agent, who issued to the 157th a barrel of milk crackers. The boys made the most of their opportunities, and soon were asleep in their old trenches at Jacksonville, and for the last time.
Next day, June 3d, the regiment went aboard a steamer and returned to Picolata.
The touring experience of Co. G in Florida was not luxurious. And when, after about four months stay, orders came to pack up and leave Picolata, not a regret was heard.
June 12th they swung away from the dock and the same evening were at Fernandina, and where amidst a chorus of "hellos!" the regiment was once more united.
On the 13th, the detachment in which was Co. G started for Hilton Head. The wind was right ahead and the vessel, a ferryboat; she pounded the sea like a thresher, and the captain put back to Fernandina. There they lay until the 16th of June, when the sea went down and the voyage was completed.
Co. G landed at Hilton Head on Thursday and went into camp. On the Saturday following a deserter belonging to another regiment was shot and Co. G was compelled to witness the execution. Poor deserter. Alas, for Co. G, to be drawn up to witness the killing of a man in cold blood! There were some phases of military life more brutal even than battles. Some formalities in the infliction of penalties, more horrible than the crime itself. And it is doubtful if the lesson thus taught, is made more impressive by a display of cruel ceremony. And the cowardice of the custom. No good soldier need be thus reminded that desertions in the face of the enemy is death. Let us hope, as time goes on, the nation will demand that unnecessary torture be avoided in warfare—that in order to punish one man, it is not necessary to torture his comrades.