Here several of the boys went foraging and got some nice green apples. George Thomas, Captain Shoup and others made apple dumplings and put them in a large camp kettle to cook.
They were standing around the fire, with mouths watering, thinking every minute an hour, when the Yankees on the other side of the river began to shell the camp. They had run up four globe-sighting 16 shotguns to the top of a small hill. We were too far from our guns and there were no orders given to shoot, so they shelled us a plenty.
While the boys were watching the kettle a cannon ball struck the fire, upset the kettle, passed between the legs of one of the men and exploded a little farther on. This did not seem to cause any alarm. They had heard cannon balls explode before, but a mighty wail went up over the loss of the apple dumplings. The air was blue around there, and at that particular moment the boys would have charged the enemy joyously.
I was with the doctors that day. They had a negro who was a fine forager. He even brought us fried chicken. We had a royal spread in front of the doctors’ tent and were consuming the good things with great relish, when a cannon ball went through the tent! It looked like it was going to smash us to smithereens, grub and all! We got away from there. We grabbed the grub and, went down the line where we finished our meal. Not royally as we would have done, but hastily and stealthily.
But our sharp-shooters in the dumps on the river got even with them. The Yanks drove out into the field with two six-mule wagons to get some fine rebel fodder. There were about thirty men in all, teamsters and guards. Some of them stood on the rail pen surrounding the fodder, others climbed on the shock to begin at the top. Our sharp-shooters shot the mules first, then the men, and few lived to tell the tale. Sherman said, “War is Hell.” In this case it was hell to them.
September 10th we marched down the valley toward Lafayette. As the dust was a foot deep and water scarce we moved slowly and we went into camp about ten o’clock.
Dr. Scott of our Division, was sent for to see a citizen who was very ill. He went and relieved him, and left medicine, not asking pay for his services. After he had returned to camp a negro brought him a huge tray heaped with good things to eat. The doctor looked at the pile of grub, and said, “You boys must dine with me today, I can’t eat all of this.” We needed no further urging for our blue beef and water corn-dodger was rather poor fare. We lit into it, and as hungry wolves devour a sheep, so we devoured that pile of grub. Then the darkey took his tray and departed with a note of thanks. Our gratitude was truly sincere.
September 19th battle was on hand. We were in General Polk’s Brigade, to which the Hardee Corps had been transferred. When orders were read we found ourselves named as reserves. Cannonading began on our right, and we were moved quickly to the sound of the shot, about three miles. As we drew nearer to it we were ordered to double-quick. When we came to Chickamauga Creek we began to pull off our shoes to wade when General Cleburne came along saying, “Boys, go through that river, we can’t wait.”
Through the creek we went, and were among the first to be engaged instead of being reserves. When our line was deployed and ordered forward we were the very first. We struck stubborn western troops who knew how to fight. The conflict was terrific and raged all day. When night fell the engagement was stopped. Throwing out skirmishers we found that the lines were mixed up terribly. We were among the Yankees and they were calling, “What command is this?” It was midnight before the lines were reformed. Then we had a night’s sleep on the ground, knowing that on the morrow some of us would fall in defense of our country—some of us would never see home and mother again. General Longstreet arrived in the night with re-inforcements, bringing a division from Virginia. At daybreak the struggle was renewed. On both sides was the determination, “God being our helper, we will win this day.” Wave after wave of deadly lead was sent against those Western troops, who contested every inch of the ground, who would stand a charge, and stay on the field. But our blood was hot, we fought for home, and against an invading foe and we could not give up at all. At the end of two days a battle of battles had been fought and won for the Confederate cause. But alas, how many Southern boys had bitten the dust. The field was so thickly strewn with dead we could scarcely walk over it without stepping on the corpses. Our Regiment lost 42 killed and 103 wounded, and of the 120,000 men engaged on both sides, 28,000 were killed and wounded.
Longstreet’s men said to us, “Boys, you have tougher men to fight than we.”