A member of our company while on picket one night shot one of the attempted deserters and as a reward was granted a 30-day furlough.
If a deserter was caught no mercy was shown him.
The penalty was death by shooting or hanging, usually the latter, as shooting was considered too honorable. Scaffolds were erected in the rear of the works and almost every Friday there were numerous executions along the lines.
ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS LOOKED SMALL.
I recall a story told at the expense of one of the big bounty men who joined us just before setting out on the last campaign. He had hardly a chance to learn to handle a gun when he was sent out on the skirmish line and pretty soon the “minies” were coming his way thick and fast. His comrade was a son of Erin, and an old “vet” who went before the bounties. The nerves of the big bounty man were getting pretty badly shattered, which was noticed by Pat, who sang out: “I say, there, me laddy buck! How large does your $1,000 look to ye’s now?”
“About the size of a silver quarter,” was the truthful response.
Another incident illustrates the practical manner with which the officers regarded the lives of their men. A veteran captain noticed some of the new accessions to his company needlessly exposing themselves, as he thought, and this is about what he said to them: “Get down behind the breastworks; you cost twelve hundred dollars a piece, and I’ll be d—d if I am going to have you throw your lives away; you’re too expensive!”