“You seem to be so cocksure, I wonder if Gen. Grant has told you anything.”
“No, Jim,” said Will, “he hasn’t told me anything, nor do I believe he has told anybody what he is going to do, for I believe he is one of those silent men that talk very little.”
“Well, what makes you so certain we are going to move soon?”
“Oh, I just put two and two together and add them up and it makes four. So, when I see them getting the horses and mules all shod and loading up our commissary and ammunition wagons to the top, I just say, that’s two and two and that makes four, and so we march.”
“Well, Will, you are a curious fellow, and if we do move soon, I’ll say you are one of the smartest fellows in camp.”
“Oh, shaw! that isn’t smartness, that’s just a little common horse sense put to work.”
Will’s prophecy came true, and in three days the victorious army under Grant started again for the Tennessee River. On March 24, 1862, we landed at Pittsburg Landing on the west side of the Tennessee River, and went into camp about two miles southwest of the landing.
At this place Gen. Grant was assembling an army to march on to Corinth and attack Gen. Johnson’s Confederate forces. Our troops had been located with a view to convenience, rather than in a compact line facing an enemy. The great gaps between the different divisions indicated that the officers did not expect a general attack; still, I cannot see how they could have lulled themselves into this belief. To show that there had been signs of an enemy hovering near our camps, I will copy from an old diary kept by me at that time. I had forgotten this incident until reading it lately when it all came back to me as vividly as though of recent occurrence. “April 4th. Today I am on guard as Sergeant of the Second Relief.
“At night the troops were ordered out in line of battle, word having come that an attack had been made upon our outer line of pickets. Our regiment moved to the right and in front of our camp.
“My relief was on duty some little distance in the woods. Soon after the alarm was given, I received orders from the officer of the day to take off my sentinels and order each man to his respective company for duty. I proceeded to obey orders and had passed about half way ’round giving orders to my men, when, groping through the underbrush, I came to a sentinel whom I could not see very well because of the extreme darkness, and supposing he was one of my guard, I gave the order, and was just starting away when the sentinel called out sharply, ‘Halt.’ I had given the countersign before, so I turned and wanted to know what was up. He informed me that he was on picket duty and wanted to know who I was and what I wanted. I explained the situation to him, which seemed satisfactory, and I was permitted to go. Retracing my steps I found my own guard line. I had, in the darkness, stumbled into the picket line of another regiment and was ordering in soldiers with whom I had no business. The sentinel was all right and determined to do his duty, for as he cried halt he raised his musket, pulled the hammer and was ready to shoot, but as an obedient soldier I obeyed his command and halted, and in so doing escaped being shot by one of our own soldiers. The troops were kept in line of battle until 10 o’clock p. m., when the officers, believing it to be a ‘scare,’ ordered the soldiers to their respective camps.”