Late Saturday night we bivouacked near the firing line without fire and very little to eat. The ground was covered with snow and ice and the weather very cold.
Captain Johnson, of Company F, had his feet frozen so badly he never could wear his boots again, but, instead, wore a pair of large army brogans.
Fatigue parties were detailed to search for and bring in the wounded; this labor extending throughout the night, the surgeons never rested and there was no distinction between the blue and the gray.
As the Union army on this dreary Saturday night rested in bivouac close in front of the enemy’s works, the moans of the wounded could be heard, and here and there flickering lights moved through the woods on errands of mercy.
Mother Bickerdike, a nurse with the Union army, was out on the battle field with her lantern, groping among the dead, stooping down and turning their cold faces towards her, she scrutinized them earnestly, uneasy lest some might be wounded and left to die uncared for. How many poor fellows, sick and wounded, have been ministered to by her loving hands, and the soldiers of the Army of the Tennessee, who loved Mother Bickerdike, have said over and over again, “God bless Mother Bickerdike.”
One incident has come down to us which shows how she loved her boys. One morning, visiting one of the wards in a certain field hospital at about 11 o’clock a. m., she found the poor fellows had had no breakfast; the doctor in charge, had not been present to make out the special diet list for each one, he having been out on a spree the night before. The doctor came in just as Mother Bickerdike learned the facts and she went for him.
“You miserable scoundrel; here these men, any one of them worth a thousand of you, are suffered to starve and die, because you want to be off on a drunk. Pull off your shoulder straps, for you shall not stay in the army a week longer!”
The doctor laughed at her, but within three days she had caused his discharge. He went to General Sherman to be reinstated.
The General said: “Who caused your discharge?”
“Why,” said the doctor, hesitatingly, “I suppose it was that woman, Mrs. Bickerdike.”