Many a soldier has gone into battle, and proved his bravery and battle efficiency under fire, without being a highly intellectual or even an educated man, and with no previous training that approaches any where near perfection, or that was given in these Cantonments, or, with any other feeling or inspiration than the patriotic motive which has led him to fight for a great principle, or the incentive in the performance of a duty in strict obedience to the orders of his superior officers who, if they are true, and loyal leaders, with the right stuff in them, will supply all the deficiencies that any long drawn-out intensive training so often fails in.
It is now that his real intensive training has begun without his spirit and enthusiasm having become impaired, and he is better able to fully grasp its meaning than he would had it been daily, weekly and monthly crammed down his throat by rule, and by some theoretical trainer who had never seen a battle field—never been on one—or under fire, and who would scarcely know one if he should see it.
Our intensive training in most of these cantonments was begun backwards. Teaching men to shoot—and to shoot straight, preferably under conditions of noise, after a few days—closely simulating a real battleracket—is much more effectual as a starter—after he has been taught to knock down, clean, assemble and quickly load his rifle—and the proper use of it, than a manual of arms "by the count" (as the writer saw it) or any attempt at a perfect knowledge of the intricacies of the School of the Company, etc.
A man, unless he has been designated as a sharpshooter, or for "sniping"—or, has been ordered to remain under permanent or semi-permanent trench cover—is not satisfied to fight at from 1000 to 1200 yards—the range of a high power rifle,—for, under most atmospheric conditions and when in the smoke and confusion of battle, he cannot pick up his target, or see the object aimed at, or determine whether his fire is effective, therefore he is going to push forward to from 300 to 500 yards—the range of our old muzzle loading Springfield rifles. There, in the open he can see the enemy he is fighting—almost the whites of his eyes—and how effective his fire should be. There is the place to fight—and that was where our American lads after the Hindenberg lines were destroyed—or turned—and the Huns were driven out into open ground—in their forward rushes—were so effective in cleaning and mopping up the best troops Germany had. They could not resist close fighting. They had not been trained that way, and we ought not to dream even of training our men in long range—trench cover fighting—except under certain conditions which are clearly indicated. Circumstances will govern those conditions.
A Brief Summary—A Record "Round-Up"
While this was not the concluding chapter, or the end of my dealings, either by way of experience or adventure with these deserters, or all that was likely to grow out of it, I felt that much of the burden had been lifted. The long chase in the howling "Norther". The novelty of our night at "Rhodes Ranch"—with seven people, including the crying baby, and the three dogs in a one room "shack" to keep us from perishing; sliding and skating over the desolate solitude, wind-swept and ice crusted; the two long, weary nights among the dens, dives and slums of Weatherford and Cleburne with my optimistic, jovial, joking—Musketeer Corporal; the all night study of the map—the one-legged, "Johnny driver" with his friendly Gettysburg battle-field reminiscing that came so near losing me the fruits of a night's hard labor—and uncertainty of plans in the early morning at the latter town;—the exciting, thrilling—almost spectacular capture of the men in the brush near Hillsboro; the bluff and threat of the wagon master; the novelty of a Texas log jail with its forbidding exterior and interior, but sheltering walls; the little, panic-stricken wagoner; the indictment of all the citizens implicated in their escape and temporary release under the stimulus of "blood money"; the "squealing" of Crafts on the concealment of the arms; the identification of the raw recruits;—the encounter with the fighting termagants at Hardin's Ranch; the hasty return of the carbines by the "old man" who would "lick you uns outen yer boots"; the commendations and warm personal thanks of Generals Mackenzie and Hardie; the letter of thanks and congratulations from the Major-General Commanding the Department of Texas; all were now over, and I could at last, heave a great sigh of relief—and for a few days, at least, indulge in a brief period of well earned rest.
It is believed that this march of over 200 miles in the dead of winter, during an unprecedented severe "Norther" (10° below zero) with sleet, snow, hail and ice almost thick enough to bear the weight of our horses, and for a part of the time in jeopardy of our lives—the capture of these ten (10) men with all of their arms and safe delivery into a military post, and the apprehension and indictment of the three (3) civilians for their share in the adventure—stands on record as the most complete and wide-sweeping "round up" of deserters, under all of the circumstances, ever known in the official Military Annals of the Department of Texas, if not in the entire United States Army— At all events, in any way it may be summed up, it was a most remarkable and "Phenomenal Capture".
Transcriber's Notes
1. Several typos have been corrected. The exception to this is when the same word was misspelled more than once (e. g. "guage").
2. The word "coup d'oeuil" uses an oe ligature in the original.