“Good-by, Giles.”.
I did not have strength enough to sit up in the ambulance and see the boys as they rode by, but Taylor had told them I was in the vehicle, and I could hear them say, “Good-by, Allen,” as they passed along.
Then I was “all shook up” as the ambulance driver cracked his whip and shouted to his mules to “git out o' hyar!” I do not remember how long we were on the road. I did not know then, for I was unconscious part of the time. Now and then we struck a long stretch of corduroy road. Oh! how it tortured me. Only old soldiers who “have been there” have any idea of the agony experienced in a ride over a corduroy road in an ambulance, particularly when the passenger is so weak that he cannot help himself at all.
“Drive around to the third tent there!”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many men have you?”
“One wounded, and one sick or dead boy, I don't know which. He's been fainting like, all the afternoon.” The above is what I heard upon regaining consciousness. We had arrived at the cavalry corps hospital on the bank of the Appomattox, just above City Point. I was taken from the ambulance and placed on a cot in one of the tents. Then I became unconscious again, but restoratives were given me, and I was able, when the attendants came around with supper, to swallow one spoonful of tea, after which I was given an anodyne which put me to sleep.
The cavalry corps hospital was separate from the general hospital of the Army of the Potomac at City Point, and was used exclusively for sick and wounded troopers. The best possible care was taken of the patients, and delicacies in the shape of corn starch, farina, beef tea, canned fruit, jellies and other articles not included in the regular rations were supplied. It was several days after my arrival before I was considered to have one chance in twenty of pulling through, but I had a strong constitution, and nature and the surgeon's prescriptions won after a hard struggle.
What a luxury I found the cot with its mattress, clean sheets and a pillow—just think of it!
After I had passed the critical point, hovering between life and death for several days, and began to mend, I took as deep an interest in my surroundings as was possible under the circumstances. Part of the time I was in a sort of semi-unconscious state, the quinine and other drugs causing my brain to be fired up so that the incidents from the campaign of the Wilderness to the crossing of the James were all jumbled together with recollections of home and the events of my boyhood.