ALONZO WHITE, Saunemin, Illinois.
June 11, 1861-July 16, 1865. I saw Comrade White about six years ago. At that time he was a Methodist, a prohibitionist and was not a pensioner. He had never applied for pension and never expected to apply. I do not know whether he has held out faithfully up to the present time or not on all these points. He did not reply to my letter of inquiry. I wrote to the postmaster of his town and got this: “Yes, he is here. He runs a blacksmith shop in this town.”
ANDREW JACKSON WILSEY, Aurora, Illinois.
April, 1861-June 9, 1862. Born in Madison county, New York. Twenty-one years old when enlisted. Since discharge has followed a diversity of pursuits. He is not a pensioner but, I think, would not object to being enrolled as one of Uncle Sam’s beneficiaries. I meet him frequently. He has never given serious thought to religion and, I understand, has no well defined and settled theological opinions. In politics he is a democrat, a regular old-fashioned democrat of the Andrew Jackson type. He was not at New Orleans, however, but he faced fury of shot and shell at Shiloh.
DeWITT C. WILSON, Plattville, Illinois.
June 11, 1861-July 14, 1864. Born in Shelby county, Ohio. Nineteen years old when enlisted. Is not a pensioner. Since the war has been a farmer. In politics a straight republican. In religion aims to be a practical christian. He believes that good works are more efficacious than loud prayers and soul-saving sermons. He has no connection with any religious sect.
On the morning of June 11, 1861, his father sent him into a field with a horse to cultivate corn with a shovel plow. After working a few hours he tied his horse to a fence at one end of the field and started directly to Joliet on foot to enlist. He did good work as a soldier for more than three years.
All will have a vivid recollection of Fort Donelson. The lack of rations, the lack of tents or protection of any kind, the hard fighting and the hard weather, the rain, the sleet, the snow, the cold, the long dreary nights without fires. On one of those nights DeWitt Wilson and the writer stood on picket guard together close up to the enemy’s works. We were posted stealthily after dark under a low bushy tree near a road which led to and from the town. We were to remain very quiet, not to speak louder than a whisper, and to watch closely all night. If the enemy sallied out in force we were to fire and run to the Regiment. It was very cold. The mercury was going down and was not far from zero. Our clothes had been soaked by previous rains and were now frozen stiff and clanked with every movement. We remained as posted for several hours. Finally, the Confederates came over their works and made a vigorous assault with intent to break the Union line. When the assault was made I was in an almost helpless condition. I could scarcely move and was nearly captured. I and my comrade became separated. I lost my course and went into the 11th Illinois Regiment. DeWitt and I frequently refer to that terrible night, the hardest in all our experience.
At Britton’s Lane Comrade Wilson and two others occupied a slight ambuscade. He was very anxious to have the enemy show up, and poked his cap out on the end of his ramrod. Just as he did this a glancing bullet struck the side of his head and caused him to roll over two or three times. His face and clothes were smeared with blood, and just then he would not be considered a good-looking man.
GEORGE WILSON, Sharon Springs, Wallace County, Kansas.