Near our bomb proof was a battery, which was so located that in firing, it would rake the rebel picket line on our left. The Captain of the battery knew that the first round would almost annihilate them, and wanted to give them a chance for their lives, so he wrote a note, telling them if they would leave their position and come over to us, they would save their lives; he then called for a volunteer to carry the note. Instantly a brave boy of our regiment stepped forward. He was told that it was a dangerous mission, and that he was risking his life, for he would certainly be shot at. His only reply was,
“Give me the message, I will go.”
Holding up the white paper, he deliberately walked across the open space to the rebel picket line, handed one of them the note, saying,
“Here you Johnnies, read that!”
He came back at the same moderate pace and strangely enough, was not shot at going or coming. All seemed astonished into silence at his daring, but he was loudly cheered, when he reached our line in safety.
The warning was in vain; the brave fellows would not desert their post, neither would they retreat without orders. Again came the order to rake their line; the order was obeyed, and two-thirds of the poor men were swept into eternity.
The captain of the battery was disgusted with such butchery. He could have fired on an advancing foe without scruple, but to fire on a thin picket line was too cold blooded for him, and he swore that he would not fire another shot in that direction, and he kept his word.
Chapter XXIII.
PEEBLE’S FARM.
“Forward——charge!