As we approached the landing, Colonel Shepherd ordered Lieutenant D. W. Benham, the quartermaster, and me, to proceed inland to find someone authorized to place us in proper position. A few hundred yards away we found most of the generals in consultation. General Buell designated our position and we returned to deliver General Buell's instructions.
Here the regiment saw its first horrors of war. Many wounded were carried to the numerous hospital boats tied up at the landing. In a cave under the Bluffs Benham and I saw a large number of ghastly corpses, stained with blood, laid on the leaves. Suddenly Benham exclaimed, "My God, Mills, there's a man who's not dead! See, his face is red, and I can see his chest heave. What a cruel thing to turn him out for dead!"
Feeling his pulse, Benham exclaimed, "This man is alive!" raised his head to help him, when he smelled the fumes of whiskey. Evidently the man had drunk during the battle, been overcome, and, seeing what he supposed were fellow soldiers asleep, had concluded to turn in.
It is needless to say that both Benham and I lost our interest in the "poor fellow" and left him to sleep off his drunk.
In the meantime, Shepherd placed his men in the front line, but we saw little fighting, as the Confederates abandoned the field after Johnson was killed. Later we confronted them at Corinth, and Beauregard, who had succeeded Johnson, retired without giving battle in the direction of Nashville, which the Federals had practically abandoned. It then became a race between Buell and Beauregard as to who should first assemble an army at Nashville.
Iuka, with many public buildings, was selected as the hospital base for the wounded and sick. The 18th Infantry, as the largest regiment of regulars, was ordered to guard the hospital.
Shepherd selected a camp site in a dense forest, which added to our comfort in the heat of May. It was here I became known as the best shot in the regiment. One day, when we were all trying to rest and sleep, somebody called out, "See that squirrel!" pointing to where the little animal was eating buds in the top of an oak tree. He was perhaps one hundred and fifty feet from me, but I was satisfied I could kill him. Many soldiers and officers looking on, I raised my pistol, fired, the squirrel fell to the ground, shot through the head; a better shot than I had intended. This, together with the fact that I was from Texas, gave me a better reputation as a crack shot than I deserved.
We remained in camp several weeks, but as soon as most of the invalids recovered, we were ordered to join the Army of the Cumberland.
En route, we came one day near a little town in Tennessee. As usual, the soldiers were given to pillage, and here they raided a Masonic lodge, which enraged Shepherd, who was a Mason. One soldier brought a letter, written by a doctor, advising the neighbors to poison wells and kill the Yankee invaders. Shepherd ordered me to arrest this doctor and bring him to camp. We readily found his house, and, calling him out, found he had a wooden leg. He admitted writing the letter. Colonel Shepherd ordered him before a sentinel and made him march, in the extreme hot weather, during the sentinel's tour. Shepherd reported the case to General Thomas, but the man was liberated without trial.