Bragg's army at Murfreesboro, thirty miles south of Nashville, received reinforcements from Virginia, principally under Breckinridge. Rosecrans, hastily assembling as large a command as possible, determined to attack. On the last day of December, 1862, and the first and second of January, 1863, these armies fought one of the bloodiest battles of the war about two miles north of Murfreesboro along Stone River.
General Rosecrans issued a confidential order for a general attack by the whole army at eight o'clock, December 31st. Colonel Shepherd, officer of the day for the whole army, rode the lines to see the leading commanders were prepared to make the common assault on time. I rode with Colonel Shepherd all night, and everything seemed to be fairly understood, but General Bragg was informed, massed his troops on the left and assaulted our whole right wing, commanded by General McCook, capturing most of the batteries before the horses were harnessed. Rousseau's reserve division and the regular brigade reserve of his division were the first in our army seriously in action. I was with Colonel Shepherd and General Rousseau when our right was crushed. General Thomas excitedly ordered Rousseau to "put the regulars in the cedars and drive those devils back." We thrust in our battery under the protection of the cedar trees and rocks in time to check the victorious Confederates, giving Rosecrans time to reform his routed right and establish a new line.
That night Doctor Webster Lindsly and I, with the permission of the Confederates, visited the field to care for the wounded, where I carried Captain Mack to the hospital. I found a young man, mortally wounded, a cannon ball having struck his abdomen. He said, "I know I am going to die. Write my mother that you saw me here." I wrote down his name and address, but I lost it. I have regretted it ever since, especially as I could not remember the name.
During the first day our forces were worsted, our supply trains cut off, and, the men carrying no rations, were hungry. Our entire right wing was doubled back on the left, the enemy were in front and rear, and the night was exceedingly cold. It was midnight before the excitement and confusion abated sufficiently to allow the men a little rest.
When I lay down, I rolled up in my saddle blanket near Captain R. L. Morris, a personal and intimate friend. But I was not to sleep yet. Colonel Shepherd sent me several miles to the rear with orders to seize some unguarded wagons which were filled with hard bread and bacon for the daybreak breakfast.
I folded my blanket, laid it on the ground and carried out the instructions, bringing the wagons back with me. When I returned, my blanket was missing.
The loss was discouraging, and I was cold, but as Morris said he knew nothing of it, there was nothing to do but pass the night as best I could. The next morning I noticed Morris had not only his saddle blanket, but another, tied in a roll behind. I asked where he got it and he retorted it was no concern of mine. I thought the circumstances sufficient to warrant an explanation, and he became angry, exclaiming, "Do you suppose I would steal your blanket, Mills?"
"No," I said, "I don't, but I would like you to untie your blanket and let me examine it."
He untied it, and I showed him my initials worked in one corner with yarn.
Laughing, he said, "Well, Mills, I give it up. That is your blanket. Take it. I stole it, knowing government blankets were as alike as two peas. I wouldn't steal under ordinary circumstances, but such a night as last night would justify a man in doing anything to keep warm."