Both sides had skirmishers in rifle pits in front of them, and any exposure of a portion of the body brought the "ping" of a bullet in close proximity. One struck about an inch above the head of Lieut. A. C. Hargrove, into the body of an oak against which he was sitting, a little in rear of embankment. His head showed a little too high above the breastworks. Two inches lower, it would have finished him. Both sides had to lie close in daylight. A little to the rear and left was the old church.
Capt. Lumsden sent a man to Gen. Quarles, who had his Brigade headquarters just in rear of the church, to borrow a field glass. The General and his staff wanted to know all about the situation, which was described as well as possible. One of the aides handed over his glasses, and requested the messenger to let them know whatever was discovered in our front. It was suggested that he come along, "Oh no! We don't think it necessary! You can tell us all about it when you return back." The others laughed and said: "Go ahead, young man." Capt. Lumsden thought he could make out a battery opposite, but it was difficult to be sure as their lines were partly hidden by brush, like our own. Our old Orderly Sergeant, now Capt. Geo. Little, on Gen. Bate's staff, had letters and socks from home for his two brothers, John and James, in our company, and rode up to the church where Gen. Stewart was sitting on the steps and asked him where Lumsden's battery was. He said they are just over there about 100 yards, but you can't ride there, come behind the church with your horse, a man was killed where you are sitting, just now. All was quiet then as could be. There was a country graveyard between the church and our line. He left his horse behind the church, and started to the battery, but in a moment there were a hundred bullets pattering like hail on the clap boards which covered the graves. He ran for cover in the trenches, and for ten minutes the firing was kept up and then quieted down, when he slipped back from the cover of one tree to another to the church, mounted his horse and made his way back to his own quarters.
About June 4th, the Federals disappeared from our front at New Hope church, and we moved back and toward Lost mountain and the railroad which we crossed the next day, and on June 8th, went into position on a ridge overlooking Big Shanty Station, being on the east side of railroad. This new line came to be known as the Pine Mountain line. Here we entrenched. On June 11th, we saw a rifle battery near Big Shanty firing on our lines to the left. We fired on them. They replied. Our trenches were a little below the top of the hill, with the limber chests exposed, being higher than the works. Lumsden ordered them to be run down close behind the works, which was done. But one Federal shell exploded one of the chests while it was being moved. Sergt. J. Mack Shivers was shoving it at the time but escaped much injury. The Yankee battery withdrew from the open, and we shortly after, heard of Gen Polk's death. We always believed that we were firing on the battery that killed him. During all this time we were having heavy rains every day. We have an idea that the whole army was wet to the skin every day in June. One great trouble was to keep our corn bread dry until we could eat it. But wet bread could be turned into "hot cush," whenever we stopped long enough to have a fire and the weather being warm, our clothing would get moderately dry between showers. The men had by this time gotton pretty tough, and looked tough, and like a set of toughs.
Falling back on June 15th, from the Pine mountain line, to the Kennesaw mountain line, to face Sherman, who was flanking to our left, the battery first took position close to the top of the main spur of the mountain, a little to the right and north of the top and entrenched along with a lot of infantry. The only Federals who got within our range at this position were a lot that crowded around a railroad water tank, at the foot of the mountain. We put a few shells through the tank scattering both Yanks and water. But the Yanks put a rifle battery off in the valley, out of our reach and went to work on us scientifically. They figured out our range and the very first shell burst about three feet exactly over our breastworks, and the next one or so killed one of our men, named Blackstock, a Georgian. A splinter clipped Horace Martin's ear—marked him. Lt. Hargrove was on the bare top of the mountain to see what he could see. They fired at him and the shell struck the ground in his front, and ricochetted over his head, end over end. It was certainly fine shooting and sport for those rifle gunners, and doubtless they enjoyed it. We certainly did not, but each got to a safe place and kept it, as soon as we found what those fellows could do at over a mile distance. This was on June 19th. As this position was a worthless one for our guns, we were ordered down and moved to the south edge of Little Rinnew, relieving another battery. The change was made during the night, and Lumsden was told that it was a hot place. So we worked on the entrenchments from about midnight when we had arrived until daylight. We made good embrasures, thickened the works in our front and dug trenches for our caisson wheels close behind works, so that axles lay on the ground. The limber chests were taken from gun carriages and placed on ground close up to the works. That afternoon, Col. Alexander, in command of the artillery along this line, came along and Capt. Lumsden told him that he'd like to find out what the enemy had over there. Col. Alexander told Lumsden, "Well, open on them and I'll order the rifle battery further up little Kennesaw to your right to support you." Lumsden gave him time to get up to the rifle battery, and then came his command: "Cannoneers to your posts!" Each gunner was told where to aim, and the estimated distance. Then: "Load! Battery ready! Fire!" Those Yankees opened on our four-gun battery, with twenty-four guns and the dirt was soon flying over and around us. We fired rapidly and so did the rifle battery, but directly a shell came through number 3 embrasure, killed Gurley, standing erect with thumb on vent, plunged into caisson just behind and exploded all three chests thereon. The flame exploded a cartridge lying on limber chest next to the breastwork and our own shell went rolling around promiscuously. Lt. Hargrove grabbed a slush bucket and proceeded to pour water into the limber chest with the smashed top, where fuses were fizzling and friction primers crackling in the tray above the loaded cartridges thereon. Some of the boys yelled at him to let that thing go, but he poured that water on, and put out those fuses. Every fellow was dodging our own shells for a few minutes.
A tin strap from one of the sabots struck Corporal John Watson on the tight seat of his pants, and he dropped flat, with his hands clapped on the place where he had felt the blow, yelling: "Oh, I'm wounded, I'm wounded." The laugh was on him, when it was found that his pants were not even split.
Gracious! How those Yanks did yell, when the column of smoke went high in the air from our exploded caisson. Well, all the satisfaction we got out of the affair, was that "We found out, what the enemy had over there," and we did not stir up that hornet's nest again. Occasionally, they would plug at us, but we would lie low and not reply. One of their 24-lb. rifled parrot shells ricochetted over from the front one day with out exploding. Some of the men got it unscrewed the percussion fuse from its point and poured out a lot of powder, then dug out some more with a sharp stick, until they thought it was about empty. Then private Dan Kelly, got hold of it, stooped down to a flat rock and jolted the point down on the rock. It struck fire, exploded and tore Kelly's arm and hand all to pieces. He was sent to hospital, then home, and I think died from the wound.
We more than evened up on the Yanks, a few days after, on June 27th, when Thomas's and McPherson's corps swarmed over their works and started for our lines in a determined assault. We filled the skirt of woods in front, full of shells until their lines appeared in the open, and then we swept the earth with canister and over their line of infantry made every bullet count, so that in our immediate front, they did not get nearer than 150 yards, and had to rush back to cover of their own entrenchments. Our command had no causalities that day, but many Federals were buried in trenches in our front, their total loss officially reported in the assault was 2,500.
Here is what is recorded in Federal official records:
"He (Sherman) Resolved: To attack the left center of Johnston's position, and orders were given on the 24th, that on the 27th, McPherson should assault near Little Kennesaw mountain (our position,) and that Thomas should assault about a mile further south, (to our left). Kennesaw was strongly entrenched, and held by Loring's and Hardee's corps, Loring on the right, opposite McPherson and Hardee on the left opposite Thomas. About 9:00 a.m. of the 27th, the troops moved to the assault and all along the line for ten miles a furious fire of artillery and musketry was kept up. A part of Logan's 15th corps, formed in two lines, fought its way up to the slope of Little Kennesaw, carried the confederate skirmish pits and tried to go further, but was checked by the rough nature of the ground, and the fire of artillery and musketry at short range from behind breastworks. Logan's assault failed with a loss of 600 men, and his troops were withdrawn to the captured skirmish pits * * * The assault was over by 11:30 a.m., and was a failure.
It was the most serious reverse sustained by Sherman during the campaign. The entire Union loss was nearly 2,500.