The 45th
At Kinston N. C.
Dec 14, 1962.
CHAPTER V.
OUR BATTLES.
The quiet afternoon and long night's rest refreshed us most wonderfully, and we woke the next morning, Sunday, the fourteenth, free from all fatigue. It was a bright, beautiful day, and we broke camp in high spirits, ready for whatever might happen, and yet with no conception of the dread realities actually before us, and in which we were to enact a part.
After marching two or three miles, firing once more commenced at the front, and hurrying on, the regiment was halted at the corner of a road which ran directly to the river Neuse. Presently, a section of artillery arrived, and passing into a field just before us, began to shell the woods.
As we waited there, momentarily expecting to enter the fight already begun, one of our number, amid the roar of artillery and occasional roll of musketry, began the hymn, forever associated in the minds of those present with that scene, "Ye Christian Heroes go Proclaim," in which we all joined. It was his last song upon earth, but how nobly did he earn the title of "Christian Hero," and what death more glorious than with such words yet lingering on his lips, to freely surrender his life at the altar of his country's liberty. His name will ever be cherished with love and reverence by all who knew him, and we can rejoice with his friends who mourn his loss, that he is enjoying his fit reward, an immortal crown of glory.
Soon the order came for the 45th to advance; so, marching by the right flank, we left the road and entered the woods, passing directly in front of the battery, and most unfortunately in its range. Before notice could be given to the officer in command, two successive shells had killed three of our number, besides slightly wounding others. It was a sad omen with which to enter the fight, but on we pushed and soon faced to the front and advanced, deployed as skirmishers.
We quickly found ourselves in the midst of a regular North Carolina swamp, which in ordinary times would be considered impenetrable. Mud and water waist deep, how much deeper none stopped to see, roots to trip the careless foot, briers innumerable to make havoc with our clothes, to say nothing of an occasional stray bullet, which, finding its way through the trees, whistled over our heads, and contributed to the pleasantness of the position. But it needed more than mud and water, or even a stray bullet, to check us, and so on we crept, crawled and waded, the bullets becoming thicker as we advanced, until we conquered the swamp and gained a position where the ground rose slightly towards the enemy, and was thinly covered with young oaks and underbrush. Here we quickly obeyed the order "Lie down!"