But the next tune was not so sweet. It came to the tune of orders to “cook three days’ rations, and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.” We rode cars to Chattanooga, from there on November 10th we went to Bridgeport, Alabama. From Bridgeport we crossed the Tennessee River, marched fifty miles and camped at Alisonia. November 24th we marched twenty miles, passing through Tullahoma; November 25th we marched fifteen miles and camped on Duck River at a short distance from Shelbyville. At this time the Medical department decided to give all the one-course Medical students then in the army a chance to pass the examination for promotion to assistant surgeon. Dr. Arnold was one of these one-course students and decided to try the examination. We diked him out in the best clothes we could get together in the company. I contributed my white shirt, other boys brought him hat, coat, shoes, and collar. When he stood before us for inspection he could have passed for a lawyer or preacher just from town. With his book, “Smith’s Compends,” he walked twenty miles to the Board of Examiners, stood before the “saw-bones,” shook and answered questions. Perhaps his borrowed plumage helped him, at any rate he passed, and was given a certificate. He walked back, changed from the rank of a private to that of a captain! When he came in sight two hundred braves met him; when shown his certificate they rode him on a rail and kept up a rough house for an hour or two. He had no horse, no money, and no books except his Smith’s Compends, but the older doctors helped him, and soon he was fully up in medical affairs and made a good surgeon too.
December 8th we marched twenty miles and camped at Eaglesville. From there we marched to College Hill.
December 28th we marched to Murfreesboro, and camped on Stone River within cannon shot of the town. Here we prepared to meet Rosecrans with his army, forty-five thousand in number. We were in line of battle on the extreme right. After dark on the thirtieth, still in line of battle, we moved our position to extreme left and camped, without fire, in a cedar rough. Our orders were to advance as soon as it was light enough to see. At dawn, December 31, we moved promptly on the enemy, advancing through an open field. The enemy, protected by a fence and the trees, received us with deadly fire and our loss was great. But we flew after them and our work was just as disastrous to them. Dead bluecoats were thick in every direction. We soon had them on the run.
Our company Color Bearer William Mathews, the same who had defied the Yankee fleet on the Potomac, had been ill and this was his first fight. As we followed the fleeing Yanks he said, “Boys, this is fun.” One of the men answered, “Stripes, don’t be so quick, this is not over yet; you may get a ninety-day furlough yet.” In twenty minutes Mathews’ arm was shot to pieces.
George Thomas was in front of all the company. He had killed two men and was pulling down on the third, when one, but a short distance away, shot him, wounding him in the arm. But George spotted the man who shot him and wanted to go on with one good arm. However, he was taken off the field and sent to the hospital.
We drove the enemy three miles. The fire all along the line was terrific. The cannonading could be heard for miles. The rattle of small arms was continuous. Our line on the left was pressing on over a terrible cedar rough. Anyone who understands a cedar rough can understand what that means. Limestone rocks, gnarly cedar trees, stub arms sticking out of the ground, make it almost impassable at best. How much more difficult with an enemy in front concentrating his fire upon us. We pressed on through rocks and thicket. One of our brave boys, Arthur Green, was struck by a cannonball and torn all to pieces. Other parts of the line were as hot as ours. We got possession of the thicket but could not get the cannon through it; so we hardly got a man of their line.
When we got through, we found the Yanks with sixty cannon in line fronting the cedar rough. Our ranks were so depleted we could not charge two lines of infantry and sixty cannon. There was nothing to do but hold our position and await re-inforcements.
We lay in line all night. Orders were sent to the quarter-master to send rations, if he had any. Two negroes, belonging to two of the officers, arrived, bringing food for their masters.
As all was quiet then, and it was raining, they decided to sleep by the fire until daylight. To keep off the rain they drove forked branches into the ground, laid a brace across them, stretched their blankets over all, and pegged them to the ground at the four corners. Before long hard firing was heard on the outpost. Bullets rained on their tent, struck the logs of the fire, cut loose the corners of the blankets, letting the rain on their faces. When they saw the flying bullets, they awaited no instructions from their masters. With eyes popping out of their heads, they grabbed their blankets and set out for the wagon train. They were not long in getting there.
Next day the struggle was renewed with fearful carnage.