Chapter XXIV.WELDON RAILROAD.
The whizzing shell may burst in fire,The shrieking bullets flyThe heavens and earth may mingle grief,The gallant soldier die,But while a haughty rebel stands,No peace! For peace is war.The land that is not worth our death,Is not worth living for!Unknown.
The whizzing shell may burst in fire,The shrieking bullets flyThe heavens and earth may mingle grief,The gallant soldier die,But while a haughty rebel stands,No peace! For peace is war.The land that is not worth our death,Is not worth living for!Unknown.
The whizzing shell may burst in fire,The shrieking bullets flyThe heavens and earth may mingle grief,The gallant soldier die,But while a haughty rebel stands,No peace! For peace is war.The land that is not worth our death,Is not worth living for!
The whizzing shell may burst in fire,
The shrieking bullets fly
The heavens and earth may mingle grief,
The gallant soldier die,
But while a haughty rebel stands,
No peace! For peace is war.
The land that is not worth our death,
Is not worth living for!
Unknown.
Unknown.
In October 1864, the re-enlisted men of the Ninth, Eighteenth, and Twenty-second Mass. Volunteers were transferred to our regiment, and we once more showed full ranks on parade. By a re-organization of our division, we were transferred to the Third brigade, now made up of veteran regiments and called the “Veteran Brigade.”
As the weather grew colder, we went into winter quarters on the Jerusalem plank road, and built ourselves good log huts with chimneys, and proceeded to make ourselves comfortable, hoping we might be allowed to rest awhile.
But it was not to be, for on the 6th of December we had to leave our snug quarters and start off on the march, taking three days rations, and forty rounds of ammunition. We marched but three miles that day, and camped for the night by the roadside, not a very pleasant place on a cold winter’s night.
Next day, after marching twelve miles, we found ourselves on the bank of the Nottoway river. We crossed it at midnight, and reached Sussex courthouse about daylight; stopped for breakfast, and after a short rest, resumed our march. At three o’clock in the afternoon we reached the Weldon railroad, about five miles from Jarrett’s Station.
Here we began tearing up the rails, and destroyed the road for about fifteen miles. We burned the sleepers, heated the rails in the flame, and twisted them all out of shape; some we wound around trees, and rendered them all completely useless. It was a long, hard job, and the secondnight found us bivouacked along the wrecked railroad.
On the 10th we started on our return to the front of Petersburg. Through snow and slush we marched twenty miles, stopping at night near Sussex courthouse. On this return march we had to live on the country, as we had taken but three days’ rations, and were gone six days. Soon after starting we found three of our boys on the piazza of a house, with their throats cut. Apple jack was plenty, and they had probably drank too much and laid down, and were killed during their sleep.
We were wild with rage, and the murderers would have fared hard, had they fell into our hands. We buried our murdered comrades, and burned the house. We received orders to burn all the houses along the route except one, in which lived a well known Union man. Here I was left with a file of men as a safe guard until all our forces had passed. When we left, we received the heartfelt thanks of the women of the household.
On the 12th we again went into camp on the Jerusalem plank road, half a mile from our starting point. Here we again built our shanties,which we were allowed to consider as our homes for some time. The rest was very welcome, and it gave us time to write to our friends, and receive letters from home. I will close this chapter with an extract from my diary.
Dec. 18.The captain left for home on furlough. All the members of my company who did not re-enlist, were mustered out last month, and are now at home. How I would have liked to have gone with them! But I must wait, and hope there is a day coming when I too shall start for home.Dec. 25.Christmas day. Letters and a diary from friends at home are very welcome. I have been very fortunate in receiving letters from home. The most cheering sound of all to us in camp is the bugle, “Fall in for the mail!” We promptly answer the summons, and eagerly listen as the orderly reads the names. Those who receive letters wander off by themselves to read them, those who receive newspapers share them with others, and still others gloomily stalk off, and wonder why the home-folks could not send at least one letter to cheer us on this dreary holiday. Ah, the time is never wasted, that is spent in writing to the soldiers at the front, assuring usthat we are not forgotten in the homes to which we may never return. We cannot get too many letters, to help us fight the battles that must come before the war is over.Dec. 31.On guard in a snow storm. One year ago I was on picket at Liberty, Va. What changes have taken place in one short year! Oh before the close of the next year, may this war be over, and myself, with all my brave comrades be at home with our friends. And now the year is gone with all its sorrow and care, never to return; but the memories connected with it can never die; they will ever bring to my mind many sorrows, and but few joys. So many of my dear companions in arms, who seemed like brothers, have been called to lay down their lives, but I have been spared in life and limb through the year that is past.
Dec. 18.The captain left for home on furlough. All the members of my company who did not re-enlist, were mustered out last month, and are now at home. How I would have liked to have gone with them! But I must wait, and hope there is a day coming when I too shall start for home.
Dec. 25.Christmas day. Letters and a diary from friends at home are very welcome. I have been very fortunate in receiving letters from home. The most cheering sound of all to us in camp is the bugle, “Fall in for the mail!” We promptly answer the summons, and eagerly listen as the orderly reads the names. Those who receive letters wander off by themselves to read them, those who receive newspapers share them with others, and still others gloomily stalk off, and wonder why the home-folks could not send at least one letter to cheer us on this dreary holiday. Ah, the time is never wasted, that is spent in writing to the soldiers at the front, assuring usthat we are not forgotten in the homes to which we may never return. We cannot get too many letters, to help us fight the battles that must come before the war is over.
Dec. 31.On guard in a snow storm. One year ago I was on picket at Liberty, Va. What changes have taken place in one short year! Oh before the close of the next year, may this war be over, and myself, with all my brave comrades be at home with our friends. And now the year is gone with all its sorrow and care, never to return; but the memories connected with it can never die; they will ever bring to my mind many sorrows, and but few joys. So many of my dear companions in arms, who seemed like brothers, have been called to lay down their lives, but I have been spared in life and limb through the year that is past.