With the Rank and File

by Thomas J. Ford

An Address Delivered at E. B. Wolcott Post, G. A. R., Hall, Milwaukee, Wis., by Thomas J. Ford, March 11th, 1898.

Commander and Comrades: Those pages that I have here to-night are a continuation of the past, and take in all my recollections in brief; and, in giving you those few more sketches of the incidents and privations of my army life, I will tell you, in my humble way, of an incident that happened shortly after we were driven into Chattanooga. After the Battle of Chickamauga, so many men were told off from each regiment to build up Fort Wood, detailed for fatigue duty. We worked hard that day. An order came around when the day's work was done that General Sheridan was going to give us all a ration of whisky. We fell in in two ranks, with our tin cups, in double-quick time. The whisky came around in buckets, full. It was measured out with a small tin cup emptied into our larger ones. I got my ration and drank it. My brother Daniel was standing in the rear of me. He never drank liquor nor used tobacco. The commissary man ordered him to put out his cup and take his ration. Brother told him he didn't drink any and didn't want any. I turned around quick, and said, "Draw your ration, Dan, and give it to me." He did so, and I was very much pleased to get it. The boys in the line looked over each other's shoulders to see me drink the double ration of whisky, and one said to the other, "My God, I wish I had a brother in the army that didn't drink."

At a place called Buzzard Roost, perhaps better known in history as Rocky Face, the rebels were protected by natural breastworks and could not be driven away from in front. After several attempts a movement was made on their flank by General Kilpatrick's cavalry. The rebels soon discovered the movement and left from our front. At the time that General Howard was viewing through his field glass, Kilpatrick's cavalry were speeding to the rebels' right around by the valley road. He felt something touch him, and looking down he saw a bullet hole through his boot leg, which evidently had been aimed at him by some one in a much higher location than where he was standing, and, turning his glasses in that direction, he discovered a rebel up in a tree. Seeing the movements up there through the leaves, Howard sent after a couple of his sharpshooters. They took in the situation. Mr. Rebel kept very still, thinking perhaps he might not be discovered, but our boys got a bead on him. They let go their sharpshooting rifles. There was an "Oh!" and a scrambling and a shaking of the leaves and branches, and finally down comes the rebel's gun and next himself. Upon examination it was found that he had tied his arm with his handkerchief to a limb of the tree so as to steady himself while he was taking aim. The handkerchief became loose in the struggle, but remained around his arm as he fell.

As we advanced through those natural breastworks of rocks some of our men that were killed were lying just at the opposite side of the rock from the rebels and were stripped of their clothing. When we were advancing on this rocky mountain the rebs pried loose a great many of those large rocks and started them rolling down on us, but we went up another direction, and marched about a week, picketing and skirmishing until the rebels made a stand at Resaca, which was a very hard fight. We advanced in line of battle to within a short distance of the rebels' breastworks, where we halted. There were two cedar rail fences, ten rails high with a stake and rider, right alongside of each other. It was evident that the owners of the land disputed the boundaries, or would not join fences with each other, consequently each one built and maintained his own fence on his own land, just inside the line. We took advantage of that piece of contrariness, however, and soon pulled down both fences and piled them up into one. They made us a fine breastwork. We were in close quarters to the rebels; we could see them plainly and they could see us. I remember in the part of the breastwork where I was we had a thin cedar rail on top. Two rebel bullets struck that rail and went through it and dropped down just as I raised my head from it to fire—a very close call for me. It was very wet weather. The ground was uneven and rough, all mud and slush. When firing ceased at night some of us lay down to sleep, while others stayed on duty in the breastworks. I rolled two dead comrades together where I wanted to lie down and another who was not quite dead was rolled crossways over their heads for a pillow. I slept very comfortably, with the exception of being disturbed once in a while from a hiccough or movement of muscles or peculiar noises coming from my pillow. On the right of us the battlefield took fire and burned a great many of our men, dead or wounded, that were lying there. It was a piece of open land where the grass was very thick the year before, and was neither pastured nor cut off.

A few days previous to going into this fight we went through a very plentiful country. We halted for camp one evening. Some from every command, the same as usual, struck off foraging. They commenced coming in after a while with hams and chickens. I remember by brother Dan and myself asked some one about the hams, and they said you might as well have one, they will be all gone anyway. And so we struck out and soon found the smoke-house. I made a rush in. There was just one shoulder left. I grabbed it, and in going by the house the woman was standing at the door crying, and said that was the last piece of meat, and what would she and her children do now. Brother Dan and I agreed to give it to her. She put it under her bed. We went to camp empty-handed; had plenty to eat of government rations and felt and slept better than if we had taken the meat from the widow.

We had a hard march the next day. When we camped that evening my feet were very painful, with scalding blisters, and as I was very tired I went down to a stream near by, took off shoes and socks, rolled my pants above my knees, sat down on the bank of the stream and placed my feet in the cool, running water. Oh, but it did feel refreshing. I lay down on my back with my feet in that position, placed my hands under my head and fell asleep; was in that position until the cool of the morning began to break on me. I woke up much refreshed and no pain or soreness in my feet.

I remember in marching through Huntsville, Alabama, about 11 o'clock A. M., our band struck up the tune of "Away Down South in Dixie." The regiment was at a right shoulder shift arms, with fixed bayonets. The sergeants walked on the sidewalks, marching right in front, every man keeping perfect step. A woman was sitting on her door step with her elbows on her knees, and holding a pan of potatoes in her hands that she had just strained the water from preparatory to putting them on the fire to cook for dinner. I noticed they were a different kind of potato from what I had ever seen, and politely asked her, "Please, madam, what do you call those potatoes?"

She made answer in a very sarcastic manner, saying, "I don't call them at all; they come without calling." The next sergeant to me, Charles Powers by name, a big, able fellow about six feet two inches in height, raised his right foot, and never losing his step to the music, hit the pan a kick, and pan and potatoes flew out on the street on top of the regiment, at the same time saying, "Now, damn you, see if they'll come without calling." The regiment charged on the potatoes and came to right shoulder arms again with a potato on top of their bayonets, and not one potato was lost. We marched into camp and cooked them, and Charley said to me, "Ford, you are a hell of a man to let that rebel talk to you in that way."