Our corps camped on the Macon road. It was a dark night and was raining heavily. By the flashes of lightning we saw the train of army ambulances coming out of Atlanta, and we heard female voices singing Dixie and other Southern songs. These were brave women, non-combatants, driven from their homes by the infamous order of Sherman. They had no shelter, no provision and only the clothes they wore. Some bore nursing babes and one woman gave birth to a Dixie boy in the wagon train. Yet these glorious women would not show anguish or cry out to please the demon general. They shouted for Dixie and sang on their dreary ride. They went further South out of range of the beast of a general. He burned Atlanta and made war on women and children for the rest of the way on his infamous “march to the sea.” As long as he had Johnston to fight he had no time for his diabolical deeds.
September 12th we marched to Palmetto and camped there, and President Davis came to review his thrice defeated army. Beforehand a general order was read, that no cheers should be given on this review. Never-the-less, when Davis reached the center of the troops every man on the field joined in one mighty volume of sound, “Hurrah for General Johnston.” They knew it would be impossible to court martial the entire army.
October 1st we crossed the Chattahoochee river at Moore Bridge. October 9th we crossed the Talacatacline river and went up the railroad as far as Dalton held by the negroes who had promised “no quarter” to our boys. General Cheatham detailed our brigade to guard the wagon train through a different route about four miles from Dalton, while he took Granberry’s Brigade and our Texas troops to attack the fort. As we fought side by side in so many hard battles the Texas men asked that the Arkansas regiment (not on the ground) should have the honor of charging the fort, and this General Cheatham promised. He surrounded the fort and demanded its surrender. This was refused. While the artillery made ready the Texans passed the word down the line as though it came from General Cheatham, “Kill every damn one of them,” which would have been carrying out their own threat of “no quarter.” However, they saved their necks by five minutes, for when the white officers saw they were overwhelmingly surrounded they gave up. The prisoners were put to work at tearing up the railroad track. One of the negroes protested against the work as he was a sergeant. When he had paid the penalty for disobeying orders the rest tore up the road readily and rapidly. That evening the Texas command moved over to us. We heard them yelling and singing but we did not know what had happened. They were guarding the negro prisoners, and were calling to us, “Here are your ‘no quarter’ negroes, come and kill them!” The poor negroes, with eyes popped out nearly two inches, begged, prayed, and made all sorts of promises for the future. They soon moved on out of sight and the general turned them over to the engineering corps, where they did splendid service. This was better than killing them.
That day as the wagons were in skirmish line ready for attack we heard firing in front of our advance column. Everything stopped and we made ready for action. Advancing, we discovered the cause of the tumult. A squad of scouts, whose captain was a man with long red hair, had given a great deal of trouble to the Yankees in that vicinity. Because he was an Independent Scout he had been outlawed and a price was placed upon his head. He and his outlaws were desperate fellows and accepted “no quarter” clause. This squad was on our road and as it happened, met a squad of twenty-two Yankee scouts coming down the same road. The red-headed captain and his five men charged the superior squad, wounded six and killed four. The rest of the Yankees fled in haste. We were close upon them, so Red Head could not kill the wounded. He and his men took to the mountains and we never saw them again.
We passed through Cedar Town and Cave Spring, and camped on Coosa river. We passed through Center and camped on Terrapin Creek. We crossed Chuckluck mountains and camped at Jacksonville. We crossed Coosa at Gordon and camped on Sand mountain. We camped on Black Morgan river.
On October 27th we marched seven miles and camped in line around Decatur. It was a rainy night, so dark we could not see our file leader. If there were any roads we could not see them. It was impossible to finish the line of battle. The army had lost its way. I was standing beside the other boys holding to a small sapling when a new line came up, moving as best they could in a hog path, each man guessing at the way and calling to the man in front. A log about knee high lay across the path and I saw three different soldiers strike that log and fall over it into the muddy slash. Each time the man’s gun went splashing ahead striking the fellow in front. There was cussin’ all along the line. Finally we ran out on the log and warned others who came along, turning them safely around that point. On October 28th we went further in, completed the line and fought the Battle of Decatur. The night after the battle it turned so cold we nearly froze to death, but we did not mind marching over frozen ground.
October 30th we marched thirty miles and passed Courtland, Alabama. On the 31st we marched twelve miles and camped at Tuscumbia. November 13th we crossed the Tennessee on a pontoon bridge at Florence. November 14th we built breastworks. On the 22nd we marched thirty-two miles and crossed the state line into Tennessee. On the 23rd we passed Warrenton, the 25th through Henryville, and the 26th through Mount Pleasant. We camped on General Pillow’s place. He had a grand old Southern home. A fine brick mansion, surrounded by beautiful groves with splendid driveways. He had his own church, a comfortable and pretty brick building. These cultured people of the best blood of the South lived in this ideal spot and educated their children by teachers who lived in the home. Two members of this family, Ed Pillow and J. D. Pillow, live in Helena, where they still keep up the family customs and traditions.
November 27th we marched nineteen miles and camped near Columbia. The enemy under Schofield had retreated from Mount Pleasant to Columbia and had entrenched in a formidable position. We went around them and crossing the Duck river on pontoon and rail bridges, we double-quicked to Spring Hill and engaged the enemy with Cleburne’s Division. Our regiment was one of the first in action, after the cavalry had skirmished with them. Night overtook us and we could not see to fight. Forrest wished to attack them, even in the night, but was not permitted. As their force was much superior to ours, it would have been useless. Hood did not think they would retreat, but at daylight, when he began to complete his line, surrounding them, he discovered that they had flown to Franklin! With muffled cannon, silently and swiftly, Schofield had fled through the night.
Company G lost some good men at Spring Hill. We established a hospital there, with Dr. Brickie and Dr. Gray in charge to care for the wounded. We brought the ordnance from Columbia and followed the enemy.
The Yankees had been reinforced and had entrenched at Franklin, behind the works they had built some months before. In front of their works was an open field with not a tree or ravine for a mile and a half. Just before the breastworks was an open ditch six feet wide and three feet deep. At the end of the ditch next to the breastworks, were placed poles sharpened spear-shape. Their main works were six feet at the base. The cannon-breast portion was cut down so that the guns, resting on oak logs, were on a level with our bodies. Behind the whole was a thicket of locust trees, as close together as they could possibly grow. After the battle these trees were found to have been cut off level with the breastworks by Confederate balls.