At this time, one of the men, who had not yet had supper, became impatient and started out for water. Just as he reached the well a shell came bounding over and struck him. A single exclamation of pain announced the result. Some of the men were at his side in a moment. A stretcher was procured, and he was carried back to the ambulance stand, to be taken to the hospital. The shell struck him about midway between the knee and ankle, leaving the fragment dangling by a few shreds.
While engaged in constructing Fort Warren we alternated in work with a regiment of colored troops. They were fine, soldierly fellows, and stood the shelling quite as well as any green troops.
At the entrance of the inclosure, of course, there was no ditch, a space being left about twelve feet wide. Passing along, one day, I saw a young colored soldier standing on this narrow passage between the ditches, curiously examining a twelve-pound shell which had been thrown over, and had failed to explode. Addressing him and taking the shell in my hands, I proceeded to give him a scientific explanation of how the thing worked. After expatiating at considerable length and in glowing language on the prodigious effects of such projectiles, I then unfolded to him the manner in which this particular sample might be exploded.
"Do you see that thing?" pointing to the fuse.
"Yes, sah, I sees him," replied the dusky warrior.
"Well, now, if I spit on that—the thing will go off. See here—yeep! yeep!" as I spat on it and hurled it into the ditch. With a yell and a screech a Comanche might have been proud of, that darkey "lit out." As he ran he turned his head, and seeing me dancing a war-dance to work off the extra hilarity which his fright had occasioned, he pulled up and joined in the laugh.
Work at this place continued about two weeks. One morning we were roused up before daylight and ordered to strike tents quietly. In ten minutes the column was moving down the plank road toward the rear. We went about half a mile and camped. The next morning we again struck tents before daylight, and moving toward the front, we formed line of battle in the rear of Fort Warren. Here we lay till after sunrise, when we returned to about the same place from which we had started. What all this meant was more than we could make out, but we supposed that an attack was anticipated.
We were then placed on picket still farther to the left. We called it picket duty; but as far as I could ascertain, we were the only force in front of the enemy on this part of the line. This ground had been fought over. The Second Corps had been driven from here June 23d, with heavy loss of men and guns. From the manner in which the trees were cut and splintered by bullets and cannon-shot, it would scarcely seem possible for a human being to remain alive on part of the ground. The loss had been terrible. Many of the dead had been buried in the trenches. Others, by the score, were buried where they fell, in rebel fashion, by throwing some dirt over them where they lay. Now, after the lapse of a couple of weeks, the dirt had washed from them, in some instances. Here and there you might see an arm, a leg, or a ghastly head protruding from a slight mound of earth. If any man was enamored of the glory of war, it was good for him to sit down and meditate in such a field as this.
Two of the boys sat down to their dinner, one day, near some bushes at the edge of the woods. The coffee was poured out, the frying-pan, with its contents of fried meat was beside the blackened coffee-cups. They were squatted on the ground on either side eating with a hearty relish, when one of them noticed more closely the bushes just overhanging the frying-pan, within a few inches of it. A human hand, dried, black, shriveled, protruded from the leaves, the distorted fingers in attitude as if about to make a grab at the contents of the pan. You suppose they turned away in horror at such an intrusion on their feast. Why so? The dead were all around us. When we slept at night behind the trenches, we made our beds by them. Under such circumstances human nature suffers a reaction, and horrors become the common things of life. These young men did nothing of the kind. With a light remark suggested by the idea of such a party wanting to rob them of their dinner, they moved the pan a little, and finished their meal. This done, they examined further, and found it to be the half-buried remains of a rebel soldier. On a scrap of paper they found the name, company, regiment, and State. The paper also contained a request for the burial of the body. They prepared a grave and buried him. Then as a matter of courtesy and humanity, one of them went out between the lines and was met there by a rebel soldier, to whom he related the circumstances, and requested him to join in this becoming duty by preparing a properly inscribed head-board. This was cheerfully done, and the board set up at the grave. In passing to and fro between the lines other dead were found, and these, too, were decently interred.
The days passed on pleasantly, and without special incident. No videttes were kept out, except in the night. None were needed, as the ground was open and level between us and the enemy. There was no picket firing, and we had a very comfortable time of it. We could watch the artillery "practice," which took place almost every evening, between the batteries on our right, without any apprehension that they would practice on us.