War Stories for my Grandchildren

by John Watson Foster

"We arrived here yesterday from our march of two hundred and fifty miles. We left Otterville on October 29 and arrived here yesterday the 17th, having had only one day of rest during the whole journey. If I had time I would write Willie a letter (but you can tell him) of our march, what a long line our division made, troops and trains of near three miles, what a time the poor soldiers had with sore feet, how we sat around big blazing camp-fires, how we got up before daylight and ate our breakfast on a log, and were marching before the sun was up, and give him a list of all the towns we passed through so he can find them on the map I sent him. About these I can give him the details when I come home. But this is only the least exciting of the soldier's life stories. We can't come home till I can tell him something about our experience on the battlefield, which we have not yet had."

A week later I write still from the same place, expressing great impatience that we are kept in Missouri, and the desire on the part of myself and the men to be ordered into Kentucky, but I add: "I am beginning to understand that the army is one vast machine, and the mass of us need not trouble ourselves about our future, as our generals will determine that. We have only to do our duty and execute their commands." But I caution my wife if we are ordered to Kentucky: "You must not flatter yourself that, if I get nearer home, I will have a much better opportunity of paying a visit to the dear ones there."

Then I entered upon a topic which seemed to be a familiar one in my letters, about home:—

"The commanding officers at St. Louis will be very particular about absence, and when we get into the active field again it will be worse. And it must be so, if the army is to be kept in any state of efficiency. How much I would love to come home. No one ever more highly prized the blessings and comforts of a happy home than I,—a dear, loving, and noble wife, a sweet, darling little daughter, and so many kind kindred and friends,—but it must be otherwise. I am called to the place of duty, away from all these. I would be a craven, a disloyal citizen, if I did not do what I am doing in this time of peril to our country. And I rejoice that I have a wife, with a heart so noble, so patriotic and so brave, as to share this feeling with me, and who submits to her situation without a murmur. This pleasant home which you and I both long to enjoy together would be worthless and ruined, if our once prosperous Government falls to pieces. It is far better that we endure this separation and that our country suffer this terrible war for a time now, than that we permit the whole nation to fall to pieces, and for years and years after to see nothing but civil war and continued bloodshed between little factious States. We hope and pray that God will speedily restore the country to its wonted peace, so that we may all return to our families and friends."

A little later, in acknowledging receipt of one of my wife's letters, I say: "I am glad you are reading Washington's letters. You will find he was a good husband and loved his home, but he went to war for seven years!"

While waiting in suspense at Syracuse, I tell of another court-martial:—

"I was all day yesterday engaged in a court-martial and until late last night. A lieutenant in the Eighteenth Indiana was arraigned by his captain for attacking and slandering him in a newspaper in Indiana, and the lieutenant came to get me to defend him. I tried to beg out of it, but he insisted so strongly that I had to undertake it. The court was presided over by the general commanding, and was composed of the colonels and other field officers of the division, and I was somewhat abashed in appearing before it, the practice of the court being altogether different from our civil law courts, and I being unacquainted with it; but I thought I might as well learn now as at any other time. I think I got through with it pretty well. If I keep the lieutenant from being cashiered it will be fortunate for him."

The coming on of winter made the generals, as well as the men, think of winter quarters. In a letter dated November 24, referring to another of the reports about a threatened attack on us by Price and the probability of marching again, I write:—

"In the meantime we are shivering around our camp-fires in this winter weather, and stuffing our tents full of straw, blankets, and buffalo robes to keep warm. Last night I managed to sleep comfortably. I made my bed right down on the ground. It is warmer than to have my cot up on its legs. These Missouri prairie winds are such winds as Hoosiers don't know anything about.