HISTORY OF COMPANY "G"

147th REGIMENT

PENNSYLVANIA VOLUNTEER INFANTRY

Military Hierarchy:

CORPS	Two or more Divisions
DIVISION	Smaller than Corp, larger than Brigade
BRIGADE	Made up of Regiments
REGIMENT	Two or more Battalions
BATTALION	Three or more Companies
COMPANY	Sub-division of a Regiment or Battalion




Lamented Comrade's Writings Tell of Service Of Locally Recruited, Civil War Unit in 
147th Regiment 

By M. S. SCHROYER

CHAPTER I
   This is to be a history of Company G, 147th, Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, the 
only company of Civil War soldiers credited to Snyder county, that was sworn in for 
three years in that terrible war between the North and the South.
   To effect our organization we held meetings in Port Trevorton, Beavertown, Salem 
and Kratzerville. This was in August and the early part of September, 1862. On 
September 12 we were sworn in by John Emmitt, Esq., right opposite the Keystone 
Hotel (now the Hotel Sterner). 
   We immediately assembled for the purpose of electing officers, and these officers 
were chosen: Captain, Charles S. Davis: First Lieutenant, Nelson Byers; Second 
Lieutenant, William H. Schroyer.     Other members of the company were:   
Non-commissioned officers - First Sergeant, B. T. Parks; Second Sergeant, James E. 
Lloyd; Third Sergeant, George W. Townsend; Fourth Sergeant, Henry W. Baker; Fifth 
Sergeant, Frank M. Stuck.
   First Corporal, Isaac D. Whitmer; second corporal, John R. Reigle; third corporal, 
Francis W. Wallace; fourth corporal, Frederick B. Ulrich; fifth corporal, Henry H. 
Shrawder; sixth corporal, Jeremiah Malick; seventh corporal, Samuel H. Bower; eighth 
corporal, George W. VonNeida; Musicians-Lewis C. Schroyer, and Antes Ulrich. 
   Privates-SOLOMAN APP, JEREMIAH APP, John F. Bingaman, Asa B. Churchhill, 
H. J. Doebler, Amantes M. Eby, Daniel Ehrhart, Edward Fisher, W. E. Fausnaucht, 
George D. Greggs, Jacob Garman, Daniel W. Gross, William Henninger, William H. 
Herbster, Thomas Herbster, Allen Hassinger, Uriah P. Hafley, Daniel Herbster, John 
P. Haas, Jeremiah Hathaway, Samuel Jarrett, Jacob Krebs, William S. Keller, Henry 
Kreamer, Franklin Knarr, Daniel W. Kreamer, Fred H. Knight, Peter Lahr, Daniel D. 
Lahr, John C. Long, Joseph A. Lumbard, Jacob Lieder, John T. Mark, Elias Millhoff, 
Louis Millhoff, John Millhoff, Elias Miller, Jeremiah Moyer, John Mull, Reuben 
Miller, John Matter, William McFall, Isaac A. Knapp, Jacob Nerhood, Elias Noll, 
George Noaker, Calvin E. Parks, Martin L. Parks, John Reed, Isaac E. Reed, Levi J. 
Romig, Jacob J. Reigel, Isaac B. Reed, M. S. Schroyer, Henry E. Schreffler, John K. 
Stuck, James W. Smith, William Spade, Jacob Swab, William Seesholtz, John A. 
Swartz, Adam S. Sholly, Michael Schoffer, William H. Schaffer, Stephen Templin, 
Joseph S. Ulsh, James P. Ulrich, Lot Ulrich.


   Hardly had we been sworn into service until the body of the first Selinsgrove soldier, 
who died in the war, was brought home at 4 o'clock that afternoon. The deceased was 
Henry J. Miller, of Co. F, 131st, P. V. I.  A goodly number of the company marched 
over to Isaac Miller's residence, opposite the poorhouse (now the Isle of Que school 
house) and viewed the corpse.
   Next morning, the 13th, we lined up in Market street near Pine, ready to depart for 
the front. Before we left Market street each member of the company was presented with 
a "housewife," donated by the ladies of the town. The gift consisted of a sewing kit, and 
during the time of our service recalled many pleasant recollections.
   Headed by the Selinsgrove band we marched to the river and there boarded flats to 
be ferried across the stream to the Junction, where we were delayed several hours on 
account of the lateness of the train. It was at that time that the Rev. Messrs Hall, 
Domer and Parks delivered addresses, and Rev. Domer baptized the company as the 
"Keystone Guards." A rather humorous incident occurred when Rev. Dr. Stephen A. 
Owen, of Hagerstown, Md., then a student in Missionary Institute (now Susquehanna 
University), delivered an address to us. At the height of his oratory the stones on the 
mountain side, where he was standing, began to slide, and the young orator made a 
sudden and unceremonious descent, cutting short his excellent speech.
   We boarded the train at Selinsgrove Junction and arrived at Harrisburg in the 
afternoon of the above date. To the music of drum and fife we marched up Market 
street to Third, and from Third to Ridge avenue, out Ridge avenue to Camp Simmons, 
where we camped.
   This was my first visit to Harrisburg, and the march up Market street and out to 
camp was one of the proudest days of my life. My age was 19 years and five months. 
So proud was I that I hardly think General Jackson's overcoat would have made me a 
jacket. 

CHAPTER II
   After arriving at Camp Simmons Captain Tarbutton, who was in command, assigned 
us to quarters.
   We were placed in A tents, in messes of four in a tent, with a board floor four inches 
above the ground and on it a good bunch of straw. A cook shanty had been erected and 
our meals were served there, done up in Continental style by the cook, Mr. 
Laubenstein.
   On Monday morning we were given a thoro examination by the army surgeon. Only a 
few were rejected for not coming up to the army standard. We were then marched to 
Market square in Harrisburg and sworn into United States service for three years or 
during the war.
   The man who administered the oath sized us up; and, seeing a good pair of legs 
under each one of the boys, he believed we would make good runners, so he swore us in 
as cavalry.
   Then we marched to the quartermaster's building, where we were fitted out as 
follows: a cap, coat, overcoat, pair of trousers, pair of shoes, two shirts and two suits of 
underclothes. The clothing was tailor-made and given to us regardless of size. The 
result was certainly amusing, as some of the boys, who wore a number 10 shoe, would 
probably receive a number 5, and vice versa. It was the same way with the clothing. The 
large fellows would invariably get short legged trousers. It took some time to adjust 
matters by trading until we were all satisfied. Haversacks, knapsacks, gum blankets and 
woolen blankets were then drawn.
   The Government allowed us $45 a year for clothing and if at the end of the year we 
had overdrawn that amount, our overdraft was deducted from our voucher, and if the 
amount was under the $45 the government paid us the balance.
   Now we were fitted out as full fledged soldiers and willing to do our duty as such.
   One of our duties in Harrisburg was to guard the capitol buildings. One night the 
writer-then a private-was on duty acting as corporal, and placed John K. Stuck, of our 
company, on guard duty and instructed him how to challenge any one coming toward 
him. I told him to challenge thus: "Who comes there?" The party challenged would 
answer: "A friend with the countersign." The guard would then say: "Advance one and 
give the countersign."   About midnight I went the round to relieve the guards, and so 
advancing to Stuck's post, he yelled out in broken English: "Who comes dere?" I 
replied: "A friend with the countersign." After waiting a while, Stuck finally blurted 
out: "Our now wase ich byme donner net wos tsu sawga."   That reply of his became a 
by-word with us until the close of the war.
   One night a soldier from Camp Curtin, adjoining Camp Simmons, broke thru the 
guard, and running at breakneck speed, yelled that someone was chasing him and 
wanted to kill him. He broke into the tent occupied by Sergeant John R. Reigle, J. J. 
Reigle and William Henninger, stepping on them while they were asleep.   They awoke, 
fearfully frightened, and downed the intruder. While Messrs. Reigle held the intruder, 
Henninger, all excited and trembling, tried to rub a match on the tent, at the same time 
calling to the two men in German: "Habe un bis ich des licht ow sthecht."  
   Finally a light was produced, and there beneath those two stalwart soldiers lay the 
poor stranger, shouting: "Ich bin der Johnnie Schultz. Ich cum fun Schuylkill koundy. 
Ich bin un gardraften mon, dot cumma se, se welle mich dote maucha. Oh, ich bin der 
Johnnie Schultz. Ich cum fun Schuylkill koundy."  


   By this time the nearby tents were emptied to see the fun. Some of the camp guards 
later removed him to the hospital, where it was said that he had the poker. That was 
the last we saw of him, but the name of Johnnie Schultz from Schuylkill koundy was 
never forgotten by us during our army service. 

CHAPTER III
   While in camp a little girl was murdered on Allison's Hill, east of Harrisburg. It was 
reported that the murderer was a soldier, so orders were issued that no soldier was 
allowed to leave camp, but that any and all should be admitted. Some five or six 
citizens. men and women, were brought into camp to search for the supposed 
murderer.
   We were drawn up in line, and those people took a front and back view of us. A man 
was taken from the line near us, and that created quite a commotion for a little while, 
but he was later released. It is said that the girl was a distant relative of Governor 
Curtin, and that her slayer was captured two years later.
   One of the very pathetic features of our stay in Harrisburg occurred when we were 
keeping a guard at Walnut street hospital. The convalescents were sitting on a bench 
outside the hospital and among the wounded ones were two Rebel soldiers.
   Women from the city came along with baskets of fruit, and they passed along the 
line distributing their gifts. They gave fruit to all except the two boys in grey, and then 
went into the hospital to continue their donations.
   Hardly had they departed until one of our boys arose and said that he was unable to 
enjoy his fruit alone and that he proposed to share his portion with the Confederates. 
He then placed some fruit in the laps of the two men, who had not been helped by the 
women. All the other Boys in Blue thereupon began dividing with the two Johnnies, and 
soon the Southerners had more fruit than any of the Northerners.
   It was then that one of the Boys in Grey arose, and made one of the most pathetic 
and inspiring speeches I ever heard. He said that he did not blame the Northern women 
for the slight to himself and his wounded comrade. He believed that Southern women 
would likely have treated Northern prisoners in the South similarly, but that he was 
overcome by the generosity of the Northern soldiers in sharing their fruit with him and 
his companion.
   Both those Rebel soldiers then arose and with hand uplifted to Almighty God 
pledged allegiance to the American Flag.
   That was just one of life's instances showing the value of an act of kindness.
   We expected to leave Harrisburg soon, and boys of Company G wanted to be ready 
to meet the enemy. A number of them bought Bowie knives and revolvers. Among them 
was Ed Fisher, who conceived the idea that if he had a self-cocking revolver he would 
be able to put down the rebellion himself.
   One day in camp Fisher hurriedly ran his hand down into his trousers pocket, where 
he carried his rapid firing piece of ordinance, and to his surprise he struck the trigger 
and off went the gun. The hot smoke curled down his pantaloons, and he, of course, 
imagined that it was blood.
   A hasty examination relieved his anxiety, but the ball of the cartridge had gone thru 
his pocketbook, which was very light after the purchase of the revolver. The ball struck 
the ground just in front of his big toe, and that settled Ed for carrying such deadly 
weapons. I don't think he ever carried one since then.
   An order had been issued by the War Department that any volunteer was privileged 
to join the regulars, and Henry H. Shrawder, now of Sunbury, took advantage of the 
order and leaving us at Harrisburg, was assigned to the Fourth Regiment, U. S. 
Regulars. He was wounded under Sherman in the battle of Kenesaw Mountain, Ga., in 
1864, but there is another sad feature of his military career and I expect to chronicle it 
at a later time. 
   The company remained in camp doing guard duty at the city hospitals and in and 
about the camp until November 24, 1862, when we were transferred to Harper's Ferry, 
Va., for the purpose of organizing the 147th Regiment. I was detailed to carry the 
colors from Harrisburg to Harper's Ferry.
   We left Camp Simmons on Monday, but were compelled to camp in a shanty in 
Harrisburg until the next day, on account of the lateness of the train. We went to 
Baltimore, Md., on the 25th and took our meals that day at the Soldiers' Relief 
Association rooms. The meat, served us, was said to be salt horse. It compared, 
however, favorably with the old sow belly, so much relished by the boys during the 
balance of our service.
   We were placed in a large brick house in Baltimore for the night. Some of the boys 
managed to get out and attended the theater. So far as I was concerned my exchequer 
was too low, for two cents was all the money I had. I was anxious to see the Chesapeake 
Bay, so I started off alone for the wharf. The bay and fish markets were great sights for 
me, and it was a delightful trip.
   Wednesday, the 26th, we left Baltimore, Md., for Harper's Ferry, Va., where we 
arrived about noon. We marched thru the town to Bolivar Heights, two miles distant. 
Here we joined the regiment and became Company G of the 147th Regiment, 
Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, First Brigade, Second Division, Twelfth Army Corps. 
Our Division Commander was General John W. Geary.
   We were now on Rebel soil, where just a few weeks before General Miles surrendered 
thousands of Yankee boys to Stonewall Jackson. It was in Harper's Ferry, too, that 
John Brown organized his insurrection for free slaves, just prior to the war, for which 
he was hanged at Charlestown, Va., just five miles distant.

CHAPTER IV
   Thus we started out for three years active campaigning with a full determination to 
do our humble share in blotting out secession. 
   Harpers' Ferry, on the south side of the Potomac River, is situated on Bolivar 
Heights, West Va. East of the town the Shenandoah River breaks into the Potomac. 
Just across the Shenandoah River is Louden Heights in Louden county Virginia. North 
and across the Potomac River is Maryland Heights is Maryland. 
   A large fort had been erected thereon. Batteries placed upon either height can easily 
throw their projectiles from each to the other.
   We reached Harpers' Ferry by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. The bridge across 
the Potomac had been burned and we crossed on a pontoon bridge. The first sight 
greeting our eyes was the ruins of the old United States arsenal which had contained 
from 100,000 to 200,000 stand of arms, destroyed by John Brown. 
   Later we visited John Brown's cave, along the river, just above Harpers' Ferry. Here 
Brown had with him 17 white men and five blacks, when he began hostilities. I think 
that a great majority of Company G entered the cave at different times, and explored it 
thoroughly.
   The opening of the cave was made secure by two massive doors, made of railroad sills 
and fastened with large pieces of iron and huge hinges. Thru these sills holes were cut 
so that the muzzle of the guns would pass thru in case of attack and those inside could 
protect themselves.
   While at camp here our duty was heavy. When not on picket or camp duty we were 
fortifying on Louden Heights. Here we drew our Springfield rifles and drill was the 
order of the day. The boys were all happy. Some of the company never fired off a gun 
before they entered the army, and therefore they thought that when the Johnnies 
learned that Company G had enlisted for the war, the Confederate army would scatter 
to the four winds. We learned different later on.
   The old 28th Pennsylvania Regiment was mustered into service on June 28, 1861, 
composed of fifteen companies, with John W. Gory as the colonel. In 1862 an order 
was issued by the War Department that regiments should consist of ten companies 
only. Therefore companies L, M, N, O and P were detached from the 28th and became 
A, B, C, D and E of the 147th regiment with Ario Pardee, Jr., Lieut. Colonel, and John 
Craig, Major. This organization took place October 21, 1862 at Bolivar Heights. 
Three new companies were added, namely F, G, and H, the regiment consisting of only 
eight companies instead of the full quota of 10. We had the advantage of being with 
soldiers who had seen considerable service in the 28th regiment.
   We were awakened bright and early the morning of December 10 by the bugles of the 
different regiments of our division. Breakfast over, roll was called, and everything was 
in readiness to move. We started out with knapsacks well packed, all our household 
goods on our backs.
   We crossed the Shenandoah River on a wire bridge, marched to Hillsburn and 
encamped for the night, traveling 10 miles. We were a very tired set of boys, but after a 
good night's rest we were up early and ready for another day.
   By this time our knapsacks were considerably lightened. We agreed that we were 
carrying a surplus of goods, with which we could dispense. It was said that some of the 
boys even threw
away their postage stamps.
   Freddie Ulrich carried an extra pair of boots, hung on his knapsack. The boys 
quietly, whenever a chance afforded, dropped a stone into his boots until finally poor 
Fred, as he says,
stopped at a tree to wait for Will McFall. Freddie says he never played-out and we 
agreed to let him have his own way about it. Had not the stones in his boots rattled 
when he lay down to
rest, I do not think he would have been able to go with us the next day.
   On December 13, 1862, we left Gum Springs and marched to Fairfax Court House 
and encamped, traveling 17 miles.
   On the 14th we broke camp, passing Fair Station, encamping at Wolf Run Shoals, 
near Occoquan Creek, march seven miles.

CHAPTER V
   On December 16 we broke camp and marched to Dumphries, traveling four miles.
   The battle of Fredericksburg was fought the next day, and we could hear the 
cannonading very distinctly. After the battle we faced about and marched north along 
the Potomac River to Wolf
Run Shoals. about three miles south of Fairfax Station on the Orange and Alexandria 
Railroad, traveling 20 miles. We were expected to go into winter quarters, but in that 
we were mistaken.
   While in this camp brother Lewis took sick. We remained there until the end of the 
month, when we broke camp and marched to Dumphries, a distance of 20 miles. Soon 
after our camp was established and winter quarters put up, we were visited by 
Selinsgrove friends as follows: John Parks, Levi Ulrich and Edward McClinsy. Their 
stay, however, was not very long, as the first night after their arrival orders were quietly 
sent around thru the regiment about midnight that Rebels under General Mosby with 
his cavalry were prowling around and expected to attack us before morning.
   This was fun for the boys of Company G, but not much cause for delight for our 
friends from Selinsgrove. They were in an enemy's territory and had nothing with them 
to defend themselves, and had the enemy made an attack upon us and captured any of 
them, they might have been kept prisoners during the balance of the war.   Fortunately 
the attack was not made. Nevertheless our friends determined to go home in the 
morning. Mr. Parks said to Levi Ulrich: "By Judas, Levi, mere gana hame." "Gosh." said 
Levi, "Do is ken blots for uns."    And home they went.
   January 17, 1863, was a sad day for me. Brother Lewis, who took sick about a month 
before, grew worse daily until that morning at half-past five o'clock, when typhoid fever 
had done its work, my dear brother breathed his last. He gave his young life a sacrifice 
to his country, at the age of 22 years, 10 months and 29 days.
   Eight of the boys of the regiment lay sick with typhoid fever, when brother Lewis 
died in a canvas hospital tent, 12x16 feet. No beds or cots were there for them to lie 
upon, but instead saplings from six to eight inches in diameter were split in two, pine 
bows were scattered over the saplings and a gum blanket was spread over them. There 
was no fire with the exception of a small sheet iron stove, which had to be carried out 
whenever the least bit of air stirred, on account of the smoke filling the tent.   Neither 
had we light of any kind in the hospital. All was darkness and quiet, save for the 
moaning and groaning of the poor fellows by my side. It was a cold January night that 
my brother's spirit ascended to God, Who gave it.
   The doctors would then not allow a drop of water to be given any of the fever 
stricken victims. Our camp was only 40 miles from the city of Washington, yet no 
accommodations for the sick. January 18, Lieut. William H. Schroyer was given 
furlough to take the remains of brother Lewis to Selinsgrove for burial. His body now 
rests in sight of his old home, awaiting judgment day. 
   Our camp duties were pretty difficult. When not on picket on camp guard the order 
of the day was drill. The winter of 1862-63 we had very cold and unpleasant weather. 
and on February 22 we had about eight inches of snow. A goodly number of us were on 
picket at Fort Gandy and nearly froze to death. I remember the gunboats on the 
Potomac River firing salutes that day in honor of George Washington. 
   We were called on to witness the drumming out of camp of one of the members of 
the 28th Pennsylvania Regiment. This particular soldier had just come in from picket 
duty. when the captain told him to chop some wood. The private told the captain that 
if he would excuse him from other duty he would chop the wood, or would take it 
turn-a-bout with the other boys of the company, otherwise he refused to do the work. 
The captain reached for him and the soldier knocked him down. The private was court-
martialed, and the finding of the court was that he was to have his head shaved and a 
letter D picked on his hip with India ink. That was to brand him as dismissed or 
disgraced.
   He was brought out in full view of our brigade of six regiments. They placed a bar of 
soap in a large bucket of water, not too warm either, for it was snowing at a great rate 
at this time, lathered his head and shaved it as bare as the inside of a hand. Then they 
picked the letter D on his hip, cut all the military buttons off his clothing, tied his 
hands behind his back, and a guard with fixed bayonets in the rear of him and the drum 
corps playing Poor Old Tory, tarred and feathered and sent him away, because he was a 
Tory. They turned him out of camp and left him run.
   This same soldier went home, recruited a company. became captain of it and is said 
to have done good service for Uncle Sam until the close of the war. He was certainly a 
wronged victim, the boys agreed, for when General Geary ordered us to hiss and hoot 
him, when he marched past us, not a soldier, opened his mouth.

CHAPTER VI
   On the 12th of March we buried with military honors Samuel P. Mullen, a member 
of Company E of the Regiment, and strange to say he was the only soldier of our 
regiment over whose body military funeral honors were performed during our term of 
service.
   I think it was the most solemn funeral I had attended up to that time. The Regiment 
was drawn up into line Colonel Ario Pardee in command. The corpse was placed in an 
ambulance; the drums were muffled; the Regiment reversed arms and marched in 
columns of fours to the place of burial. The tune of the funeral march is the same as 
the Portuguese hymn, found in our church hymnals. With slow and solemn tread we 
marched to the grave; there we were ordered to shoulder arms, then to invert arms, 
which is done by placing the muzzle of the gun on the toe of the left foot, barrels to 
the front, the left hand on the stock of the gun and the right hand on top of the left 
hand, the head bowed slightly forward. You remain in this position until the body is 
lowered into the grave, when the firing squad shoots three volleys over the grave, Then 
the parade returns to the camp and is dismissed. 
   A pathetic part of the burial was that no relatives of the deceased was present. 
Someone placed on the headboard of the grave this inscription: "Sleep, sleep, a soldier's 
sleep. Thy weary march is over." If my memory serves me correctly, not even a prayer 
was offered. Our Regiment had no chaplain, a position held by Rev. Hall, who died of 
smallpox before we left Harrisburg.
   We had quite a number of typhoid cases during the winter of 1862 and 1863 The 
medical department issued orders that each company should report at the doctor's tent 
every morning until further orders.
   Company G was always on hand as soon as sick call was given by the drum corps. 
The dose we got was a mixture of quinine, red pepper and whiskey. This was a hot 
dose, but we had to swallow it. It was die dog or eat the hatchet. William E. 
Fausnaucht positively refused to take his dose, and said that "you can lead an ox to 
water but you can not make him drink."
   Henry J. Doebler was the only one who was successful in coaxing the doctor to give 
him his whiskey straight. Whether or not the above was a preventative, this I know, that 
Fausnaucht never missed a day of service until he had his leg shot off at New Hope 
Church, Ga., in 1864, and I am glad to say that at this writing he is still in the land of 
the living.
	(Editor's Note: This article was written by Sergeant Schroyer in 1911)
   While in this camp the boys enjoyed themselves to the fullest extent. When off duty, 
they played tricks on one another and there was always something to make the camp 
lively. Often times it would happen that all the members of a mess were out on a picket 
at the same time. Then someone would quietly get into the tent and, having a lot of 
powder, would scratch away the ashes in the chimney, place the powder, then scatter 
ashes over all, then get wood and fix up everything ready to put a match to it.
   When the pickets were relieved and they entered their tents, they could be heard 
talking to themselves and wondering who was the kind, friend in the company who did 
the kindness of arranging for their fire. They would begin preparing their meal, placing 
coffee on the fire and getting everything ready for their mid-day meal, the salt pork 
broiled, the crackers roasted and the coffee about boiling, when lo and behold an 
explosion takes place. The tent is filled with dust and ashes, the coffee gone, but the 
crackers and salt pork would be gathered up, washed and prepared again. The guilty 
ones would scamper off to their tents, get under their blankets and pretend to be 
asleep, having sweet dreams of home.
   I cannot give you the details of the second explosion; you, dear reader, will have to 
imagine what took place.
   Mr. Laubenstein, as stated before, was our company cook. The army beans required 
three hours cooking. This occupied very much of our precious time. Someone 
informed the cook that if a handful of nails were thrown into the camp kettle the sharp 
edges of the nails would cut the outer skin of the beans and they would be ready to 
serve much sooner. The next bean soup we had, sure enough, the handful of nails were 
at the bottom of the kettle. 

CHAPTER VII
   The army louse, that historic "grayback," which went in and out before Union and 
Confederate soldiers without ceasing, like death was no respecter of persons.
   The best and most patriotic blood in the land flowed in its veins, from the Major 
General to the lowest private. The majority in Company G, in this camp at Dumphrie, 
had their first experience with the army louse. We seemed to not want even our tent 
mates to know that we were lousy. The neatest escaped the longest, but sooner or later 
the time came when every one of us had them. 
   When for a little while we had none of the louse or very few of them, we imagined 
that some disease was lurking in our veins and that the army louse wanted none of our 
blood. It was said that the animal became a great-grandparent in 24 hours. We thought 
that they always bit where it was hardest to scratch, especially under the knapsack, 
between the shoulders while on the march. 
   When in camp, by boiling our clothes we soon got rid of the insects, but the boiling 
would need to be repeated often. The catching of the louse was called (k)nitting work. 
Some one was examining his garments, when one of the boys yelled out: "Hello, 
Freddie, you better get up and shake that shirt, then write home to your parents and 
sweetheart and tell them that you stood where hundreds fell."
   The wood tick was another pest with which we had to contend. It was round and 
small with eight legs and a small head. The head would be imbedded in the flesh and 
the only way to get them out was to pinch the skin until they would back out. If they 
were pulled off, the head remained in the flesh and that would fester, giving the soldier 
much pain and trouble. The boys used to say that the wood-tick belonged to General 
Geary's white-star division, because it had a white spot on its back. 
   You know a company of soldiers is always composed of many different characters 
with as many different dispositions. 
   One of these peculiar characters was Michael Schaffer, who was  superstitious and a 
believed in spooks, hobgoblins and powwowing. The writer was on picket duty one 
night at a very lonely place in the woods. It was near a low, wet place and dark as dark 
could be and raining all the while. The will-o-the-wisps were plentiful everywhere. 
   When I was relieved by Schaffer. I called him aside and said: "Schaffer, Da holt di og 
uff."  "Fur was?" he asked. I said "du warst shunt ous finna."  
   I left him and he took my place on the picket post for two hours. I knew he was 
worked up and that the hours were long ones for him. When he was relieved and came 
back to the reserve post he saw me and said: "Schroyer, cum mole har.  Node sancked 
ehr du worst recht.  Dot drouse sin socha net sauver."   "Why, did you see something?", 
I said. "Gawiss, hov ich. Finf de shenshda hlana visa hundlin sin ols schiwicha my ba 
gasprunga."    The poor fellow was just so worked up that he really believed he saw five 
little white dogs in that dark place. 
   Our winter quarters were built up with logs three and a half feet high. about seven by 
eight feet floor space. Our chimneys were all built on the outside. The reason for that 
was that we had more room on the outside than we had inside
   Our salt pork was shipped to us in barrels. These barrels were sawed in two and used 
for wash tubs. Other barrels were used for placing on the tops of our chimneys, the top 
and bottom of each barrel being knocked out so as to create a good draft. In the 
evening, when the roll had been called and taps sounded at 9 o'clock, all lights were 
ordered out, when we had any with which to obey the command. All were supposed to 
be asleep, but, of course, that was only supposition. 
   Then the lions would come forth from their lairs and seek their prey. A barrel, used 
for a tub, would be placed upon the chimney of some tent, in an inverted position. The 
smoke would soon fill the tent, and the innocent sleeping inmates would begin to 
cough, and cough, and cough, until they would be compelled to get out of bed, no 
matter how cold the weather, and remove the tub from the top of the chimney. The 
guilty ones would sit in some secluded spot and listen to what was said, and sometimes 
they would hear things they would rather not have listened to. After a while the 
mischief makers would retire and perhaps before morning someone would play the 
same trick on them. 
   The reader must kindly pardon the Dutch so often used in our little stories. The 
boys of Company G, all of whom were of German descent, would get into an argument 
in English, but as the argument would advance and they would get hot under the collar 
English was too slow, so they would finish up in Dutch, thinking that they could make 
it more emphatic. The balance of the Regiment being English speaking soldiers, they 
christened Company G, "The Dutch Company of Snyder county," as we held up that 
end of it until the close of the war, and, I am glad to say, the survivors continue it at 
this late date. 
   On the fourth of April, Sergeant Henry W. Baker died. I can not recall the cause of 
his death. He was sick only a short time. His brother, George, living then in 
Selinsgrove, was informed of the illness and came right on, but when he arrived Henry 
was dead. Arrangements were made, the body embalmed and brought home for burial. 
He was placed beside Lewis C. Schroyer in the First Lutheran cemetery, Selinsgrove. 
John Matter died at Aquia Creek on the 29th of typhoid fever. That was the third 
death in the company.

CHAPTER VIII
   In our Dumphries camp our Company street was about 40 feet wide. The officers' 
headquarters were located at the west end of the street. The street declined slightly 
toward the east from company headquarters. We had splendid drainage, but every 
precaution was taken to have our camp ground clean and in healthy condition.
   The first thing in the morning was reveille at 6:00 o'clock. At 6:30 roll call by our 
orderly, Sergeant B. T. Parks; at 7:00 a. m., breakfast, if we had anything to eat. At 
7:30 a. m. police call. At this call we would all get out each with a home made broom 
which we made ourselves, or with a bunch of brushes tied together, and sweep the 
company and regimental grounds. The sinks and slop pits would be looked after under 
command of a corporal and several men with shovels. 
   When this was done at 8:30 we had what was called guard mount. Those, who at the 
previous evening roll call were detailed for camp guard or picket duty, would assemble 
at regimental headquarters under command of an officer. There the camp guards were 
separated from the pickets, and under an officer, detailed for camp guard, were taken to 
their post of duty. Those detailed for picket marched to Brigade headquarters and 
there received their instructions, and under a proper officer were taken out and 
stationed on the picket line. 
   Picket duty is always dangerous, but is necessary for the safety of the camp.
   Let me say right here that when in camp this was the daily routine throughout our 
army service. No matter how the weather was, rain or shine, warm or cold, often 
drenched to the skin before we reached the picket line. When there we had no shelter, 
we had only a rubber blanket to throw over our shoulders. Generally 24 hours was the 
time for which we were detailed, but often we were out for three days in succession. 
While on this duty we would stand on post two hours, and off four hours, thus making 
eight hours on the lonely vidette line out of 24. 
   At 10 a. m. drill call, when the companies would go out and have company drill by 
the officers for one hour. At 12 o'clock dinner. At 2:00 p. m. battalion or regimental 
drill for two hours. 6:00 p. m. supper, dress parade at 6:30; 8:30 roll call, and taps at 
9:00 o'clock. That meant lights out and that the day's work was done.
   On Sunday we had no drill, only inspection at 10 a. m. Our tents, beds, clothing and 
guns were closely inspected, also our company grounds. Company G was quite often 
complimented for cleanliness, and the report read at dress parade in the evening. Many 
of the tents of the company were named Mess Number One, Cosy Nook, Kevic, 
Growlers' Retreat, the Happy Family from Penn's Creek, etc.
   The life of a soldier is a busy one, and often a very hard one. Many people imagine 
it's all fun. Those of old Company G, who had a continuous service of two years and 
nine months, know from experience that a soldier's life is not an easy one.
   On the 6th of April our company cook resigned. It was not necessary that Congress 
or the President accept his resignation, so he simply quit. Mr. Laubenstine was not 
sworn in as a soldier. Being blind of one eye, he was exempt from military duty. 
Therefore he could quit whenever he saw fit. He opened a suttlers tent and started by 
selling 3 cent postage stamps for 5 cents each. The colonel, hearing of it, notified him 
unless he stopped at once his whole outfit would be confiscated. After that we bought 
our stamps at the old United States price, 3 cents each. 
   After the resignation of Mr. Laubenstine each one became his own cook. We did not 
follow the recipes of Mrs. Roarer very closely. It took us some little time to know how 
to put up a meal. 
   We had pans with handles 12 or 15 inches long. We often came across flour or corn 
meal; sometimes bought it, sometimes otherwise. We would stir this up, make a batter 
of it, grease the pan well, hold it over the fire, keep shaking the pan to keep the 
slapjacks from burning fast. When we thought it time to turn the cake, with a slight 
twist of the wrist the cake would be thrown into the air, turn a somersault and be 
caught again in the pan. Sometimes half of it would hang out over the edge of the pan. 
Sometimes it wouldn't hang at all, but drop in the ashes. Then we would always make 
the best of it.
   I think it would have pleased some of the large salaried cooks of our swell hotels to 
see how well we managed, and what grand meals we did get up. We always relished 
these meals because we were in good shape to receive them. No dyspepsia in Company 
G.   Someone of the mess would be selected to do the cooking for a little while, then 
another, taking turns. This gave us all a chance to become experts in the culinary 
department. Sometimes we had nothing but crackers. On one such occasion SOLLY 
APP, who was messing with his brother, JERE APP, and was cook at this time, said to 
him "JERE wos wella mere hovva fur suppe?" JERE replied, "I, ich denk grackers."  

CHAPTER IX
   It might be interesting to know just what we received from Uncle Sam, to keep us in 
fighting trim. W. S. Keller was company commissary for a little while and then he was 
promoted to brigade commissary. John T. Mark was then appointed in his stead, and 
held the position until the close of the war. A better selection could not have been 
made from the members of the company. He certainly was faithful and impartial in his 
duties. 
   A soldiers daily allowance while in camp was one lb. crackers, one lb. beef or pork 
(when beef was issued we got no pork and vice versa), beans, rice, coffee, pepper, salt, 
sugar, vinegar and desiccated vegetables, and on a march, beans, rice, vinegar and 
desiccated vegetables were cut out. This vegetable was prepared by being pressed into 
cakes, about 10 by 12 inches square and about one inch in thickness. In it we found 
peas, beans, cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes, rice and onions, and almost everything that 
grows in a garden. The boys used to say it was made up of the rakings of the garden, 
but, nevertheless when it  was properly prepared it made a first class vegetable soup. 
   We received a very small piece for a ration, but by soaking it in water it became quite 
bulky. Elias Noll took his ration with him on picket, intending to eat it without 
cooking. He did eat it, and some time later he complained of severe pain in the 
stomach; his belt got too tight, then his pantaloons had to be widened, and finally he 
lay on the ground moaning, rolling and tossing his pain was dreadful and we thought 
he was going to die. His stomach looked as if he had a bass drum in it, but after quite a 
siege he got relief and you may rest assured, he always cooked his vegetable after that 
instead of putting it away raw.
   The company commissary would draw the rations for so many men in bulk and bring 
it to the company quarters for distribution, where each man would receive his ration of 
crackers for one, two or three days. Generally three days ration would be issued. The 
beef or pork was cut in as many pieces as there were boys in the company, and each one 
was handed his piece. This, oft times, was the cause of a great deal of dissatisfaction, as 
each one thought that the other fellow was getting the largest piece. However, we never 
had any bloodshed about it, for a big growl was the end of it all. The balance of the 
rations were poured out upon a gum blanket, upon which the commissary would make 
as many heaps as there were boys in the company, dividing all as equally as possible. 
   Sometimes we drew our coffee unground, but always roasted and of the best quality. 
When it came unground we put it in little bags which we made out of old pieces of 
shelter tents, took a hatchet and pounded it on a stone until it was fine enough for use. 
When tired and nearly worn out after a hard day's march or a battle, a cup of coffee 
almost strong enough to bear an egg, a few crackers roasted, and a piece of salt pork 
broiled over the fire held with a forked stick, made one of the best meals we think we 
ever ate.
   April 20th, 1863. Upon this day, after spending nearly 90 days in winter quarters in 
our camp at Dumphries, the spring campaign of 1863 opened. Again Company G is on 
the march and the cry is on to Richmond. We left our old camping ground with some 
regret, for it was here that we had many joys and many sorrows.
   The bugles sounded the fall-in call about 8 or 9 o'clock. then forward, and we were 
on the march, going south along the Potomac River. We traveled six miles and 
encamped early in the afternoon near the Chippawampsy Creek.
   April 21st we broke camp, crossed the creek, marched to Aquia Creek and, having 
traveled eight miles, went into camp. The day was intensely hot and the marching 
severe.
   April 22nd, we broke camp about 9 a. m., passed Stafford Court House, traveled six 
miles, where we encamped. From this camp we had a plain view of Prof. Lows' balloon 
in which observations were being made of the enemy in the vicinity of Falmouth. We 
remained in this camp until the 24th, when we broke camp and moved one mile nearer 
Aquia Creek. This camp was known to the boys of Company G as the orchard camp, 
and a fine place it was. On the evening of the 26th, orders were read that the army 
would move next day. 
   When Company G entered the service General McClellan was commander of the 
Army of the Potomac, he having been recalled after the defeat at Manasses under 
General Pope to lead the army upon the invasion of Lee's Army in Maryland, where he 
fought and won the battle of Antietam. Then McClellan moved his army south of the 
Potomac, and was preparing to strike the Confederates. But this step he was prevented 
from taking because, while on the march to Warrenton he was suddenly removed from 
the command of the Army of the Potomac. General Ambrose Burnside on November 
5th, 1862, was directed by the President to relieve McClellan and that he, Burnside, 
was to take command. 

CHAPTER X
   The army numbered 119,661 men on May 21, 1863. Each man was to carry eight 
days' rations, 40 to 60 rounds of ammunition and all his house-goods weighing at least 
75 or 80 pounds. On the 27th the bugles sounded, we broke camp, and the army was 
on the move towards Chancelorsville, traveling this day 12 miles. We crossed Potomac 
Creek and encamped. April 28th. Broke camp, traveled 13 miles, passed Harwood 
Church and encamped in the vicinity of the church. Here we met Captain Ryan's 
company of the 131st, P. V. I. Lieut. M. L. Wagenseller, W. H. Gemberling, J, J. 
Houseworth and a number of others, whose names we cannot recall, belonged to this 
command.
   During the winter of 1862 and 1863 some cavalry was encamped near this church, 
and someone with charcoal had drawn a cavalry charge on the wall, back of the pulpit. 
This picture, of course, showed the Johnnies routed, and the Yankees in full pursuit.   
April 29th. Broke camp, crossed the Rappahanock River, at Kelley's Ford on a canvas 
pontoon bridge. This was 27 miles above Fredericksburg. We also crossed Cedar 
Creek, and the Rapidan River at Germania Ford, and having traveled 18 miles 
encamped just beyond the river. Here a bridge was in course of construction. General 
Lee preparing for a northern invasion. 
   A spy of General Geary's, disguised as an old planter, was sent ahead of the army, 
rode to the bridge and engaged these workmen in a conversation about the invasion, 
hoping that the Confederates would be successful, and the Yankees badly beaten. 
During the conversation he looked around and said to these men. "See, there the 
Yankees are coming. Let us flee out this way." They all took his advice and were 
captured. This was all planned before he started away from headquarters. The prisoners 
were then taken back to where General Geary was and he seeing them said, "What is 
that old man doing in there?" and ordered him out. He was taken to the rear, his 
disguise removed, and he came up on another horse and conversed with the old 
Confederates with whom he had been captured. Those of us who knew this spy could 
scarce believe that he was the same person. Eighty Johnnie rebs were in this bridge gang 
and all were made prisoners.
   April 30th. We are again on the move, traveling on the old plank road leading to 
Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg. We skirmished along this road until we reached 
what was to be one of the greatest battle fields of the war. As we were advancing the 
skirmish line the Confederates opened on us with artillery. This was our initiation and 
introduction to rebel shell. The skirmishers captured about 200 rebels, with a loss of 
only one man. Traveled 10 miles and encamped in sight of the Chancellor house. 
   May lst. Our line was advanced about two miles on the plank road in the direction of 
Fredericksburg. We halted in an open field where some one was burning charcoal. Here 
the boys divested themselves of all their surplus clothing and everything that would 
lighten their load. In the distance artillery and musketry could be distinctly heard. A 
few shells were thrown around us, and later in the day we were withdrawn to our 
former position near Chancellor house. Here we remained all night. 
   Saturday, May 2. We constructed breast works as best we could with the few 
implements we had. We lay behind these works until 7 o'clock in the evening, when 
down the plank road a charge was made upon us and after some very hard fighting the 
Confederates were compelled to withdraw. 
   Sergeant Simpson, of Company A, was killed, and Sergeant George W. Townsend, of 
Company G, was the first man wounded in our company. After this charge the 
skirmishers were again sent out. Samuel F. May, of Company G, had been detailed, and 
after being out on the skirmish line a little while he sent word in that it was impossible 
for him to keep awake, and he asked to be relieved. He was relieved, and the writer, 
knowing full well the dangers to be confronted, very unwillingly took May's place, to 
which he had been detailed. May who had been a member of the old 28th Regiment, 
and transferred to the 147th, was always twitting Company G as conscripts and 
cowards, and now, when he smelled the smoke of battle in the air, he was the first to 
show the white feather. 

CHAPTER XI
   After the charge had been repulsed, a Confederate, who had been badly wounded, lay 
on the plank road. At one time he would call for help, then he would pray, and again 
cursing the Yankees, would call for his parents.
   Captain Mackey, of Company C, who had command of the skirmishers, advanced the 
line until we could hear the Confederate officers cautioning their men to keep quiet. 
We finally reached the wounded rebel, and brought him in, and had him taken to the 
hospital. We found that a shell had torn all the flesh off his hips. Poor fellow; 
although an enemy, yet how horrible it made war appear to us. Some time during the 
night the skirmishers were withdrawn, and they joined their respective companies. 
About midnight we had a very heavy artillery duel lasting several hours. Stonewall 
Jackson was killed on Saturday night.
   Sunday morning, May 3rd, 1863. Fighting began this morning about 4 o'clock. 
Stonewall Jackson's troops attacked the 11th Corps commanded by General O. O. 
Howard, in front, and flank. Fighting was severe. The rebels slowly pushed our lines, 
until about 10 o'clock A. M., when there was a general route. The bullets came from 
front, flank and rear. The onslaught was fearful. Before the battle opened Colonel 
Pardee made a speech. He said that we were about to go into battle; that he knew the 
five old companies of the 28th regiment, who had been tried in the fire of battle 
before, would again prove true to their country, and their flag. As to the three new 
companies F, G and H, he hoped they would follow the example of the old companies. 
  We were in our breastworks when the battle opened. We gave "three cheers", and our 
color bearer, Sergeant Henry, of Company C, who had taken off his cap and cheered, 
was just replacing it when a rebel shell killed him. His head was shot away, and his 
brains were scattered over the old flag he had carried so long. Colonel Pardee, being 
close by picked up the colors, saying, "We will stick to the old flag to the last, and if 
we go to Richmond, we will all go together." The Colonel carried the flag until we were 
driven off the field.
   A braver soldier than Colonel Ario Pardee was hard to find, and I want to say right 
here that Company G followed our brave commander, thru all our battles to the close 
of the war. I know that all our regimental officers had implicit confidence in our 
company.
   As I said before, General Jackson attacked our front, right and rear, making it 
impossible for us to hold our breastworks. We finally abandoned them; moved to the 
left, only a short distance, when we were halted. Here we formed a line at right angles 
with our breastworks. Soon the order was given to forward. The regiment charged in 
grand style, driving the enemy out of our works, and after occupying them but a very 
short time, we were again driven out. Again we rallied, again we charged, drove the 
enemy out of our works, when a line of Confederates rose outside the breastworks, 
where we could see into their very eyes. To show the reader how close we were to the 
enemy, when this line of rebels arose, Mathias Fox, of Company H, a German, who had 
served thirteen years in the German cavalry service before coming to this country, 
reached out over the works, caught a Johnnie rebel by the hair, and pulled him over the 
works, telling him in German to throw down his gun and accoutrements. The rebel, not 
understanding what he said, and Fox not having any time to spare, gave him a kick on 
that part of the body that first comes in contact with a chair, and again motioning him 
to drop his gun and accoutrements, he needed no further persuasion, but hurriedly 
threw down the implements of war and became a prisoner.
   The Colonel, seeing this brave act, promoted Fox to Corporal, although he was 
unable to read or write a word of English. He was pretty well advanced in years, and on 
the march to Gettysburg, in June, he gave out, and was sent to the hospital and never 
returned to the regiment. Brave old fellow, we all admired him. 
   Corporal John R. Reigle was the first man on the right of the company. The writer 
was his file closer. Soon after the fighting began Reigle was shot thru the shoulder. He 
went to the rear and I took his place, and was after this at the right of the company 
until I was promoted to Sergeant.
   On our second charge as we again filed into our works, the right of the company ran 
down two rebels. The writer being at right of company, ordered them to surrender. 
This they did by divesting themselves of their guns and accoutrements. Captain Davis 
said to me: "Now, as you captured these men, you take them to the rear". I said, "No! 
Captain, I would rather not. Allow someone else to take them back". Corporal Eby then 
came up and told the Captain that he would take them to the rear, which he was told to 
do. Henry J. Doebler was by my side, and can verify the above.
 
CHAPTER XII
   We now fell back again to the plank road, formed in line, and were ordered to lie 
down, and we were only a few moments in this position until H. J. Doebler was 
wounded. Orderly Sergeant B. T. Parks told him to get up and run, and after a little 
while someone helped him off the field. Again we charged with only a few of our 
company present, owing to the breaking of our lines, by one of the Ohio regiments of 
our Brigade, which was driven by the Confederates. The last time we charged with only 
a remnant of our regiment, and we gained the ground on the right of our regimental 
line, when to our surprise the Johnnies almost surrounded us, except along left of line 
of battle, which afforded the only avenue by which to escape. Both Yankees and Rebels 
had empty guns, having fired them during the charges and unable to reload on the run. 
   The Rebels charged and we were followed closely and the writer never ran faster in 
his life, to escape being captured. A long legged Confederate yelled at me: "Halt, you 
Yankee son of a gun!" I replied in not very complimentary language. He at the same 
time had his bayonet on his gun and we were running at breakneck speed. He lunged at 
me with his gun. Just then I happened to look around and saw how close his bayonet 
was to me, and I want to tell you that on the battlefield at Chancellorsville there was 
one twenty-year-old boy that was nearly scared out of his boots. I know from that time 
on I put in my best licks to get out of reach of another lunge from that old 
Confederate. I often wished I had the record of the time I made. Do you know that 
made such an impression on me that since then whenever I hear any rattling in the rear, 
I feel like running away.
   Well, we are thankful we got away, even if it was by the skin of our teeth and we 
believe in the old adage that he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. We 
were driven thru the woods where the explosion of the shells had set fire to the leaves 
and brush and there many a poor fellow lay wounded, and being unable to get away, was 
burned to death. Had I been wounded by that confederate with his bayonet it would 
certainly have put me in a bad shape to make application for a pension.
   The loss in Company G during the battle of Chancellorsville. Va., May 1, 2 and 3, 
1863, was as follows: Killed, Franklin Knarr and Reuben Miller; wounded, Lieut. 
William H. Schroyer, Sergeant John R. Reigle, John Calvin Long, Henry J. Doebler; 
captured, Sergeant Fred H. Knight, Edward Fisher, Michael Schaffer, William McFall, 
and Elias Miller.
   The wounding of Lieutenant Schroyer was rather peculiar. He had his leg hurt while 
in camp at Dumphries and was compelled to use crutches a long while. The marching 
to Chancellorsville and the moving about during the battle caused his leg to give him a 
great deal of pain. The surgeon told him the battle was virtually over and directed him 
to go to the hospital. When a few hundred yards from the company a stray shell from a 
Rebel battery struck a horse which he was passing at the time and exploded, killing the 
horse and threw him on the Lieutenant. From these internal injuries he died on May 
15. 
   To describe a battlefield with all its horrors, especially a panic stricken army, is 
simply out of the question. You may read war history and look at battle illustrations 
until you grow gray but no one knows anything about it except those who participated 
and have learned by cruel experience.
   The writer saw men shot in every conceivable manner. A soldier next to me in above 
battle had an eye shot out. When struck he reached his hand to his face and said, "Well, 
the eye is gone." Raising his loaded gun to his shoulder he said, "Here's one more shot 
for the Union", and fired his piece at the enemy. Brave fellow, he was! A number of 
years after the war he was appointed superintendent or chief of police of Philadelphia, 
which position he held until his death. This brave fellow was Sergeant Harry M. 
Quirkof, of Company E, 147th Regiment. 
   Now the opposite kind. I saw another fellow (I will not mention his name for he is 
dead and gone), who at the exploding of a shell very near us left the ranks and ran like 
a deer down the plank road. Someone called to him to stop but he was not able to draw 
the brakes tight enough to come to a standstill. Finally, after the battle when he came 
back someone asked why did he run? He replied that he thought the Colonel had given 
the command to double quick. Yes, said the other, but you did not obey the command 
because you went out on a canter. Well, said he, I would not give three cents for my 
life. 
   We saw a teamster who had been to the front with ammunition, driven back with the 
troops who were demoralized and running to get away from the enemy. He had one eye 
shot out, his wagon was riddled with bullets, and himself covered with blood from head 
to foot, yet. Like the good soldier that he was, he stuck to his saddle, urging his team 
on with whip and lines, and yelling at the top of his voice, “Git up! Git up!” They did 
git and as far as we know this brave driver saved himself and his team.
 
CHAPTER XIII
   The loss in our regiment was 125 men. The number engaged was 3,500. The entire 
loss of our army was 16,030. That of the Confederate Army was 12,581, making a 
total of 28,611. Three thousand were killed on the field, and many more died in 
hospitals from wounds. When the remnant of our regiment left the field, the ground 
we had occupied was covered with the dead of the enemy, and scattered over the field 
were the dead and dying of both armies. Can you, dear reader, imagine the horrors of 
this battlefield with its thousands of dead and dying? All of them had loved ones 
somewhere. Here they lay on this field without care or sympathy from any one about 
them. Later on I will tell about some who lay upon this field for many days before 
being removed. If these 28,000 were to march in procession it would at least take five 
or six hours to pass a given point, and these were the flower of our country, men who 
died to offer their lives for their country's flag.
   We were now taken back to where General Geary had assembled his old division, 
when Colonel Pardee arrived with only a remnant of his regiment, including a few men 
of Company G, General Geary came out to meet us and shook hands with Colonel 
Pardee, and welcomed us, for the General thought that the entire regiment had been 
captured. 
   On May 4th, Monday, a new line of works about one and a half miles from the 
battlefield-and about the same distance from the Rappahannock River, had now been 
erected and we were placed in these. There was very heavy cannonading in the direction 
of Fredericksburg and a heavy rain during the night. 
   May 5th, from 9 o'clock until noon, we were engaged in erecting or strengthening 
our entrenchments. Heavy rain, with the Rappahannock rising rapidly, and the army 
retreating, made it difficult.
   May 6th, Wednesday, the army retreated across the river at United States ford, 
crossing on a canvass pontoon bridge. The river was very high, and the cables by which 
the pontoons were anchored were cracking and snapping. The bridge was loaded so 
heavily that the boats almost dipped water, and every one was anxious to get to the 
northern side of the river. Had a cable snapped or a boat been punctured hundreds 
would have been drowned. Every precaution, however, was taken for the safety of the 
men. A man was placed in each boat for the purpose of watching so that nothing would 
strike or cut the canvas boats, and to dip out the water that was continually oozing 
thru the canvas. At last we were safely across and every one of us, I know, was much 
relieved. We marched to within a short distance of Harwood Church and encamped, 
traveling 13 miles. From the time we crossed to the south side of the Rappahannock at 
Kelley's Ford April 29th, until the evening of May 6th, not a drum or bugle had 
sounded a note. But when we reached this camp north of the river, the drum corps of 
the different regiments gave us martial music, and the bugles sounded forth their 
beautiful calls. Every soldier in camp cheered, and members of Company G, as usual, 
had their mouths wide open and did their full part. 
   May 7th, broke camp, crossed Potomac Creek, passed Stafford Court House, and got 
back into our old camp at Aqua Creek landing about 2 p. m., traveling 12 miles. 
   May 8th, I first learned, thru Lot Ulrich, of the sickness of brother William, in the 
division hospital, which was located four miles from our camp. I asked for a pass to 
visit the Lieutenant but this was not granted me as no passes were issued at this time. 
Lieutenant Nelson Byers, who had command of the Company, (Captain Davis being 
home on furlough) told me that if I would report every morning and evening that I 
might go, and that if I was needed in camp he would see that I was notified. From that 
time until May 15th, whenever I was off duty I stayed with brother and attended to his 
wants as best I could. I would attend roll call in the morning then walk four miles, stay 
with him all day, come back in the evening to attend roll call at 8:30, then go back to 
the hospital and stay until morning, when again I would go to camp. H. J. Doebler, 
who was also wounded at Chancellorsville, was only a few tents from where brother 
William was lying. My brother-in-law, John Crossgrove, then sheriff of Union county, 
was written to by the Lieutenant, telling him of his sickness. He came to Washington, 
got a pass and came to Aqua Creek and arrived there on the morning of May 15th, only 
a little while before brother died. Arrangements were made for having the body 
embalmed and sent home to Selinsgrove for burial. 

CHAPTER XIV
   The hospital was about one mile inland from the Potomac River and we could see 
down to the steamboat landing. I told Mr. Crossgrove that I would not be allowed to 
accompany him to the landing without a pass. I went to the Officer-of-the-day, who 
had charge of the hospital camp, and told him my circumstances. He said that he was 
not permitted to issue any passes. I then went to Dr. Earnest Goodman, our division 
Surgeon, and he told me the same as the Officer-of-the-day. 
   General Geary's headquarters were some distance away. I went to headquarters and 
the guard directed me to the General. I told him that I would like to go with my 
brother-in-law, who was taking home the body of my brother for burial, and asked him 
to please give me a pass to go to the landing. To my surprise, in the gruffest way 
possible, he said, "No, I have no right to give you a pass." I then told him where I 
belonged, the company and regiment, but to no avail, and I started to go away 
heartbroken. 
   One of his staff officers, Major Forbes, then jumped up and spoke to the General. 
They had their backs turned toward me but I knew that the Major was interceding for 
me.
   The General then called me back and said: "The Major will give you a pass, but I 
don't want you to desert." I said, "General, if you desire it, I will report to you after the 
boat has gone." He said, "When the boat has left you report to your regiment." I went 
to the wharf and was hardly seated until a guard asked for our passes. Mr. Crossgrove 
had received his official pass at Washington which was all right. I showed him my pass 
from General Geary and the guard said it was no good and that I must leave the wharf.
   Of course, I could not censure him for he had his instructions and was acting 
accordingly. I gave my brother-in-law good-bye and started away, sad and lonely, 
because just four months before I had lost brother Lewis at Dumphries, and next the 
Lieutenant, brother William, until now of the three brothers who enlisted I was left 
alone.
   As I was leaving the wharf and going in the direction of the camp, I met a Lieutenant 
who was in charge of the guards. He stopped me and asked what was the matter. I told 
him my story and he said he could hardly believe that men could be so harsh and so 
unsympathetic. "You go with me. I'll see that you get a place until the boat leaves," he 
said, and he did. "The only thing," said he, "that I ask of you is that immediately after 
the boat has gone you leave the wharf." Thanking him over and over again I started to 
camp. The treatment of General Geary I never could forget, and when he was a 
candidate for Governor of Pennsylvania, altho my old commander, I could not make up 
my mind to vote for him. 
   While making my trips to and from camp to the hospital, I had to pass the smallpox 
hospital. One day I saw a soldier standing in his tent door and he beckoned to me. I 
went over to him and asked what he wanted, when he asked me whether I would please 
fill his canteen with water. I said certainly I will. Let me have your canteen. He gave it 
to me; I filled it, returned and gave it to him. He was the only person I ever saw with 
smallpox. He thanked me very much, and said that when he was home he had the best 
of care and attention when sick and could have anything his heart desired. But now the 
surgeons would come in the morning and prescribe for him and if he needed anything 
during the balance of the time he would have to get it himself. If I knew at that time 
who he was and where he belonged, the lapse of 48 years has entirely obliterated from 
my mind his name and regiment.
   A night or two before brother died the ambulance train came to the hospital loaded 
with wounded men who were brought from Chancellorsville and who had been lying on 
the battlefield for 11 days. They were brought on these ambulances about 28 miles, 
over rough roads. The hospital attendants had lanterns and the wounded were hauled 
about camp until a place could be given them. The wagons would sometimes strike a 
stone, run over a tree stump, and the poor fellow within would cry, curse and pray. Oh, 
such heart rending scenes.

CHAPTER XV
   In the morning the surgeons asked whether I would help dress some of the wounds. I 
said certainly. One poor fellow, a large, stout looking man, was shot thru the calf of 
the leg. You may imagine what such a wound meant in the heat of summer.
   A soldier belonging to one of the Massachusetts regiments had his right arm terribly 
mangled. The doctors held a short consultation and determined to amputate his arm, 
but Massy, as the doctors called him, said no. The doctors asked, what do you want us 
to do? Massy said, "This is the only right arm I will ever have and I am going to keep 
it." They told him that unless it was amputated he must die. Massy said, "All right. In 
that case the arm goes with me, there can't be a separation." He then directed the 
attendants to get a cracker box lid, and proceeded to direct the surgeons what to do. 
They did as he directed but handled his arm rather roughly, and he immediately told 
them that he wanted to be treated as a man should be treated and not as a dog.
   Now, said he, put my arm on this board. Then he began pointing to and naming the 
broken bones, giving the correct medical terms, and ordered each into its proper place. 
One of the doctors asked, "Did you ever read medicine?" Massy replied, "That's none 
of your business. Go ahead with your work." It was a painful job but he saw it thru, 
and just as the doctors finished their work, poor Massy fell over in a dead faint and it 
was quite a while before he was revived. Next morning when the doctor came, he asked. 
"Well, Massy, how are you this morning?" "Well, sir," said Massy, "I feel as if I could 
knock down any son of a gun of a doctor with my right arm that would attempt to take 
it on." I went to camp that day and never heard further from either of these wounded 
men.
   While in this camp we did quite a good deal of drilling, preparing for another 
campaign, and doing guard duty about Aqua Creek Landing, along the Aqua Creek and 
Falmouth railroad. Here we had quite a distance to go and were usually put on picket 
duty for three successive days. Fortifications were being built all along the Potomac 
River from the Rappahannock to Harper's Ferry. General Hooker was anticipating a 
movement north by General Lee, but was in ignorance of Lee's intended move. 
Everything possible was being done for the improvement of the army of the Potomac.  
 A division drill was ordered while we lay in this camp, and General Geary's white star 
division of the 12th army corps, to which our regiment, the 147th, belonged and, as 
you all know Company G formed a large part of the regiment, was ordered out on drill. 
Brigadier General George S. Green was in command. Fourteen regiments numbering 
5,000 men composed the 2nd division. We were out in heavy marching order. This 
meant that we had all on our backs that we owned. The day was hot and everything dry 
and dusty. The drilling was done on Bell's Plain, a beautiful place and entirely adapted 
to such a drill.
   After double quicking back and forth quite a while we were nearly exhausted. General 
Green's daughter, who was a visitor in camp at this time, was sitting in a barouche and 
enjoying the movements of the troops. She said to the General: "Papa make them trot 
again. I like to see them trot." I will not attempt to tell you what the boys said, but 
their remarks were equal to the time, the place, and the occasion. After that incident 
whenever the old General would pass us, someone would yell, "Papa make 'em trot 
again, I like to see 'em trot."
   Many darkies had gathered in camp. At night they would sing their old plantation 
songs, and I am sure every member of Company G enjoyed them. One night they 
assembled in a large tent and continued their singing and carousing until after 
midnight. The Colonel being kept from sleep, came out to see what was the trouble. 
Just at this time the darkies were in the midst of their jollification. A number of 
Company G boys gathered around the tent and at a given signal cut the ropes and the 
tent fell upon them. The screaming of the ladies of color and the noise made by the 
young and old bucks awakened everybody in camp. Of course, all were anxious to know 
the cause. The Colonel was out of humor and not appreciating the joke, placed a 
number under guard. I would like to tell of some real funny things that took place that 
night but there are some things that happened which are company secrets and are only 
told within the inner circle. However, if you would whisper softly into Ed Fisher's left 
ear be might give you a little history of that night's doings.
 
CHAPTER XVI
   On June 4th, William McKee, and William Gruver were members of Company A, 
46th Pennsylvania Regiment, Logan Guards, first defenders from Mifflin county. 
These boys were arrested for desertion, tried and sentenced to be shot.
   General Lee was now on his march of invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania. June 
13th, 1863. Many of Company G, the writer among them, had gone out in the 
morning to work upon fortifications, and felling trees. Government whiskey was 
furnished us in large camp kettles, which held about five gallons. Captain Krider, of 
Company F, who was in command of this detail, said that every man who drank water 
that day would be fined five dollars. The consequence was that when evening came all, 
with a very few exceptions and the writer was not one of the exceptions either, were 
drunk as drunk could be. We arrived at camp about six o'clock, had no time to get our 
suppers, but were ordered to pack up and fall in.
   We marched all night until noon next day, when we encamped at Dumphries near our 
old camp ground of the winter of 1862 and 1863. Traveled 25 miles. Many of the boys 
were so overcome-I think that's what they call it, when they drink to excess-that they 
had to be placed in an ambulance and hauled all night. The writer never spent a more 
miserable night during his army service, for I was so sick that I hardly knew how to get 
along. Several times during the night someone would come and say, "Schroyer, take a 
couple of swallows, it will help strengthen you and you will feel much better." At that 
time I was two months and a few days over 20 years of age, but I am very thankful that 
I then had the courage to say no, and I spelled it with a big N, and a big O. I told the 
boys it would be a long time before I would take another drink of whiskey and I have 
not touched a drop since then.
   Monday, June 5th, broke camp, crossed Occoquan Creek, passed Fairfax Court 
House. encamped about one mile from the town. Traveled 25 miles. Here we met 
Captain Roush's Company B, 6th Pennsylvania Reserves. In this Company were a 
number of Selinsgrove boys, among them John Emmitt. Jr., son of Esquire Emmitt, 
who administered the oath to Company G when we started for the seat of war.
   June 18th, broke camp, passed thru Dranesville, crossed Goose Creek and encamped 
about one mile from Leesburg. Traveled 14 miles. Leesburg is located in a beautiful 
valley about three miles from the Potomac River, and is in sight of the Balls Bluff 
battle field. Here General E. D. Baker was killed.
   Friday, June 19th, we were called upon to witness the execution of William Gruver 
and William McKee, whose arrest and trial I have already mentioned. These lads were 
from Lewistown, Pa., but we were ignorant of this at the time of execution. They were 
arrested June 4th for desertion to the enemy. They were tried and sentenced by General 
Court Martial to be shot to death by musketry. One other was shot for the same 
offense at the same time, but his name I am unable to give. The writer would be glad to 
learn the name of this unfortunate man. The names of Gruver and McKee were not 
known to us until many years after the war. All were members of the 1st Division 12th 
army corps.
   In this beautiful valley about one mile from Leesburg, Va., three graves were dug; a 
hollow square was formed by the troops; the guard or firing squad was placed in 
position. Then the ambulances came, each with a prisoner blindfolded, seated upon a 
rough box. When they arrived at the grave, the prisoners were taken from the 
ambulances, the rough boxes were placed beside the graves, and the lids placed thereon, 
upon which the men were seated. Short religious services were conducted by a chaplain, 
and then the Officer in command raised his handkerchief. The guard took aim and as 
he dropped his handkerchief, the squad fired. All three men fell dead into their rough 
boxes. Then all the troops were marched by the bodies of these unfortunate boys as an 
example and warning not to desert the cause to which they had sworn allegiance.
   As we look back over the past 48 years we feel that undue haste was given this trial. 
Think of it, arrested June 4th- executed June l9th, just 15 days from arrest to 
execution. A story comes to us that these two boys were about 17 years of age when 
they enlisted on September 21st, 1861, that they had been with their commands and 
participated in all the battles fought by the 46th Regiment, and that their reputations 
were first class as soldiers. These boys had frequently asked for furloughs but never 
received any and then they undertook to French leave it home, intending to return 
again, but before this could be done they were arrested. One of the boys after his arrest 
had written to his father, a Mr. Gruver, at Lewistown, and he hurriedly went to 
Washington to see President Lincoln, and he received a pardon for the boy. While the 
army marched to Leesburg on the west side of the Potomac, the father on horse back 
rode leisurely on the east side of the river until reaching Edward's Ferry, three miles 
from Leesburg. Here he crossed over and came to camp just about one hour after the 
boys had been shot. He had the pardon from President Lincoln in his pocket.
   I have in my possession a dairy written on the field at the time of the execution 
which says the boys were arrested while attempting to desert to the enemy.

CHAPTER XVII
   After the shooting of the deserters, we returned to camp and remained for seven 
days. During this time General Hooker was watching the movements of General Lee 
closely and had the Army of the Potomac so distributed along the Potomac River as to 
give the best protection possible to the City of Washington, should an attempt be 
made in that direction by General Lee.
   During our stay here we had our regular routine of camp duty. Picket duty was very 
severe, owing to the fact that a heavy line of pickets was required for the safety of the 
camp. We were placed about three miles from camp for three successive days.   On the 
26th of June the army was again in motion. Crossed the Potomac River on a pontoon 
bridge at Edwards Ferry. We now turned our backs upon old Virginia and entered the 
State of Maryland. We passed thru Poolsville and encamped at Monocacy Aqueduct at 
the mouth of the Monocacy River. Marched 12 miles. Hundreds upon hundreds of the 
soldiers went in bathing, and the sight was very amusing, for after a day's march thru 
the dust and the heat of the day this bath was both refreshing and necessary.
   When the army left camp at Leesburg, the writer, with a number of the members of 
Company G, whose names I have forgotten, was on picket three miles away, but we 
knew nothing about the army having moved until pretty late in the day, when we were 
relieved by the officer of the day and were compelled to march very hard to catch up to 
our company, which was in camp long before we arrived. The marching for us was very 
hard owing to the fact that the army wagon train occupied the road and we had to walk 
at the side as best we could.
   While on picket duty we noticed several fine shoats running at large beyond our line 
and although strict orders were given forbidding foraging, the desire for fresh pork 
became stronger with each longing look at the animals and then, of course, we feared 
being bitten by one of these porkers. A council of war was held and we decided, if 
possible to capture one of these shoats.   We were not allowed to do any shooting on 
the picket line, so we made up our minds to charge without guns. Outside of our lines 
was a creek with very steep banks, beyond which was an open field. This field was to be 
the battleground, and we started to surround the porker, which we had selected as the 
one best suited to our purpose and tastes. We formed a line of battle with the creek 
with its high banks on one side and the open field on the other, We got around this 
fellow in a sort of friendly way and drew in our lines closer and closer until Mr. Shoat 
began to cock his ears and wonder what was going to be done. Now, my dear reader, 
did you ever help to catch a live pig? If you did you may know something of the fun 
connected with it. Well, we charged and the pig charged. The first dive he made was for 
a fellow's legs, then you would see someone on his back with his feet in the air, but by 
sharp maneuvering we kept him between us and the steep bank and finally, when the pig 
and we were about played out, one of the boys picked up a stone, threw it, hit the pig 
back of the ear and knocked him over the high bank into the water. We jumped into 
the creek after him. Meanwhile the porker, being only slightly stunned, revived and you 
may well imagine the splashing until finally we got him on land and killed him.
   While skinning and getting him ready for use, we saw the officer-of-the-day 
approaching. We hurriedly threw our porker into the bushes, covered him with a few 
limbs, washed our hands, took our places and looked as innocent as if we had killed a 
sheep and when the officer-of-the-day arrived we were ready to receive and to salute 
and to report to him: "All's well at this post." After he left we had our pork steaks 
broiled in grand style, and we thought we never ate any pork that tasted any better.
   Saturday, June 27th, broke camp, crossed over the aqueduct at the mouth of the 
Monocacy River, crossed the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and canal at Point of 
Rocks. Marched on tow path to Catocton Station where we passed thru a tunnel or 
culvert under the canal. We marched beyond Petersville and encamped about two miles 
from town. Traveled 23 miles. While we were crossing the aqueduct, an officer on 
horseback, rather nicely dressed rode down to water his horse. He rode down to the 
stream where the wagons had forded and coming out had deep ruts in the mud. He 
threw his rein on the horse's neck and, in going into the water he got into a rut and 
down went the horse's head into the river and for a little while scarcely anything could 
be seen of either of them. The boys on the aqueduct yelled: "There he goes! Watch 
him! Hit him with a brick! Keep an eye on him." While the officer did not enjoy his 
unexpected dump into the river. I am sure the boys did.
 
CHAPTER XVIII
   Sunday, June 28th, struck tents and were again on the march. went back thru 
Petersville and thru the towns of Cherry Grove, Centreville and Jefferson and 
encamped about one mile from Frederick city. Traveled 12 miles. Here General 
Pleasonton, with the entire cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, passed us to go 
to the front. This was a grand sight.
   Our corps, the 12th, under General Slocum, was to march to Harper's Ferry, there to 
concentrate with General French, who had under his command 11,000 troops. Slocum 
was to be joined by this garrison and the united force under command of General 
Slocum was to threaten the Confederate rear by a movement toward Chambersburg, Pa. 
This plan of General Hooker's failed, because General Halleck, at Washington, did not 
approve of General Hooker's plan of abandoning Harper's Ferry. Finding himself 
deprived of that freedom of action on which, in so large a degree, the success of 
military operations depends, General Hooker requested, on the 27th of June, to be 
relieved from command of the Army of the Potomac. On the following morning a 
messenger reached Frederick from Washington with an order appointing General 
George G. Meade, commanding the fifth army corps, as Hooker's successor.
   Monday, June 29th, broke camp, passed thru Frederick City, Walkersville, 
Woodsboro, Ladiesburg, crossed Pipe's Creek, passed the towns of Marysville and 
Bruceville, and encamped about one mile from the last named town, having traveled 20 
miles. While passing thru Frederick we first learned that General Hooker had been 
relieved of command of the Army of the Potomac. While marching along rumors were 
afloat that General McClellan, the idol of the Army of the Potomac, was again recalled 
to take command. Cheer after cheer was given for Little Mack, as he was familiarly 
called. Every one seemed to look to him to lead the army on to victory. We learned 
later on of the appointment of General Meade. All knew of General Meade's sterling 
worth as a soldier and all had confidence in him as a leader.
   The entire army had concentrated at Frederick City and so far as we know General 
Hooker's plans were not changed in the least by General Meade. While passing thru 
Frederick many of the soldiers managed to get something to drink and of course many 
became unmanageable. We remember of an artilleryman who became so abusive against 
his officers that they were compelled to place a gag in his mouth and to lash him to the 
spare wheel (an extra wheel was carried on the rear portion of every caisson), placing 
him on the hub with his hands and feet tied to the outside of the wheel. There he sat in 
the hot sun, crazed with drink, cursing his officers until they had to tighten the gag, so 
that the blood ran down his chin. 
   Along the roadside we came across a goodly number of cherry trees which were 
loaded with the precious fruit and we ate many quarts in a very short time. While 
resting, some three or four ladies came along in a carriage, singing "Maryland, My 
Maryland." The boys cheered them all along the line as it certainly was inspiring to 
hear this song as we were nearing old Pennsylvania. A large, long-haired, yellow dog 
came to our company from one of the Maryland homes, became a pet and stayed with 
us on the march.     Tuesday, June 30th, broke camp, passed thru Taneytown and 
shortly came to a tree upon which was posted, "Line between Pennsylvania and 
Maryland." Just beyond the line in Pennsylvania, an old man stood at the gate in front 
of his large white house. Some one in Company G said, "Now we are in old Dutch 
Pennsylvania and I am going to ask the old man in German about the exact place of the 
line separating the two great States." When we got a little closer someone yelled out in 
Dutch, "Dauty, wu gade de line do dorrich?"    The old gentleman turned around and 
pointing to the chimney on his house replied in German, "Graude dorrich de mit fun 
seller shonshta."    Then we all yelled and gave three hearty cheers for our good old 
German Pennsylvania.
   Nearing Littlestown we received word that the Rebel cavalry occupied the town, when 
a courier was sent back for Knapp's battery of artillery, which was farther in the rear, 
and but a short time elapsed until we could see the battery coming at breakneck speed, 
and until they reached us their horses were white with foam. The battery halted but a 
few minutes, when the order for an advance was given. Here we expected a fight but the 
Confederates, hearing of our advance, retreated toward Hanover. As we passed thru 
Littlestown, the ladies came out and greeted us in true Pennsylvania style giving us 
water, cakes, pies and bread. Someone noticed a sign, "James Crouse, Druggist," as we 
passed thru town when someone in Company G proposed three cheers for Jimmie 
Crouse and three cheers were heartily given because he had his namesake living in old 
Selinsgrove. 

CHAPTER XIX
Gettysburg Campaign
   An old lady who was standing with her arms folded and was looking at us marching 
by said, "My grund, wu wella oll de lite schloffa de nocht? Gook wos un grosser 
schnopsock hut seller gla cal uff sime bookel. Orma drep, wos mere se dowera. De 
soldauda sin oll so hallich und ferlicht sin se oll dode bis morya."    And many other 
expressions of like nature.
   Littlestown was the only place since we left Harrisburg in the fall of 1862 in which 
we were recognized as friends, and this kind reception encouraged us wonderfully. We 
encamped near the   town having traveled 15 miles.
   Here the writer was detailed to fetch a box of cartridges from the ammunition train 
to the company. A box contained 1,000 rounds and weighed 100 pounds. He had quite 
a little distance to carry it, and after a march of 15 miles thru the heat and dust of the 
day I thought I would have to quit, but I rested often and finally got back to the 
regiment entirely tired out. This being the last of the month, we were mustered for 
pay, and after a night's rest we were ready for another day's march.
   July 1st. From this camp we returned to Littlestown, took Baltimore Pike and 
marched to Two Taverns, situated midway between Littlestown and Gettysburg, where 
we halted for dinner. In the afternoon we marched to Little Round Top, quite near the 
terminus of the trolley road and restaurant as it is today.  There we encamped for the 
night, traveled 12 miles.
   On our front in the ravine General Green was posting the pickets. The writer with a 
number of canteens was out searching for water and, it being moonlight, he saw a house 
in the distance for which he started. He passed General Green who asked, "Where are 
you going?"  I replied "Over to that house for water." The General said, "You get back, 
for if you go to that house for water, you will go to Richmond as the rebels are in that 
yard." 
I gladly took his advice and later found water back of Round Top. Very hard fighting 
today. General Reynolds killed. Loss heavy on both sides.
   July 2nd. We were relieved this morning by the Birdan Sharpshooters and taken past 
General Meade's headquarters to the kettle back of Culp's Hill on the right of our line. 
Here several pieces of Knapp's Battery were taken to the top of Culp's Hill and a 
number of Company G boys also went up but were soon ordered back by General 
Geary who was there posting the artillery.
   Soon after we came off the hill an artilleryman was brought back on a stretcher with 
his breastbone entirely torn away by a shell from a rebel battery. About dusk the enemy 
opened on us with artillery and musketry and were advancing their lines on our right 
with the intention of striking the Baltimore Pike upon which were our wagon trains. 
We received orders to move down the pike about one and a half miles to McAllister's 
Mill. We remained there until towards morning.
   July 3rd. Captain Davis was home on sick furlough and First Lieutenant Nelson 
Byers had command of the company. When we returned to our former position on 
Culp's Hill our brigade inspector came from General Geary's headquarters and said 
that they had a Rebel Brigade bagged and wanted the 147th to tie the string.
   Soon after daylight, probably 5 o'clock, the Rebels advanced to the stone wall on our 
direct front. We had thrown up temporary breastworks with rails on the ridge, after 
which, the Colonel, seeing the disadvantage to us in this position, ordered the regiment 
to advance into a narrow timbered ravine just in our front and somewhat lower than the 
breastworks. This move was our salvation, for when the Confederates advanced and saw 
the breastworks, they supposing we were there, directed their fire on said works, while 
we were shielded behind rocks and trees. When the order to fire was given by Colonel 
Pardee, the Rebel line of battle, which had advanced to within a short distance of our 
own hidden line, dropped almost out of sight. So severe was our fire that the writer 
saw five Confederates drop side by side, who had just touched elbows on this their last 
charge.
   The enemy with their famous Rebel yell made repeated charges upon our lines, but 
were as often swept back with fearful slaughter, our men holding their fire until the 
enemy was at close range and finally, broken and dispirited, the Rebels were driven 
from the field. Owing to the nature of the ground where our regiment stood, the 
enemy's fire passed, for most part, harmless over our heads, and consequently, the loss 
was small compared with that which we inflicted, and with the mortal nature of this 
wonderful battle. The loss in the regiment was five killed and sixteen wounded. 
Lieutenant Wm. H. Tourison, of Company E, was among the killed. In Company G 
only three were wounded. Corporal Harris Bower received a severe wound in the 
abdomen, Calvin E. Parks index finger of his right hand was shot off, while J. A. 
Lumbard received a slight scalp wound.

CHAPTER XX
   Many narrow escapes were made during this battle. James P. Ulrich's gun stock was 
shattered while he held it in his hand. After the last charge on the right of our line by 
the rebels about 10 o clock A. M., everything became very quiet. Both armies, nearly 
exhausted by the hard work of our marches and the three days battle, soon fell asleep. 
About 1:30 P. M. a signal gun was discharged; then a reply from the other side, after 
which was experienced one of the greatest artillery duels of the war.   About 300 
cannons belched forth death and destruction everywhere. The air was full of screeching 
and bursting shells. This was kept up for about one hour and a half. The very earth 
trembled during this time.
   While the artillery duel was in progress Picket's rebel division was getting ready for 
their famous charge. This charge lasted scarcely an hour, and during this time Picket's 
division was almost wiped off the face of the earth. This was the last charge made on 
the battlefield of Gettysburg. The battle closed about 3 P. M. The combat over and 
won, Gettysburg has gone into history as the greatest battle of modern times. General 
Slocum, with his head uncovered, rode along our lines soon after the enemy had been 
repulsed and said, "Boys, you did bully."  He was cheered by every regiment as he 
passed along.
   During the battle word was sent along the line that General McClellan was on his 
way from Carlisle with 20,000 militia. This certainly was inspiring news, but, as we 
found later, this was not correct. General Couch had command of these troops, but 
they were too late to take part in the battle. The official loss of both armies were as 
follows:

UNION
Killed ......... 2,834
Wounded ........13,709
Missing ........ 6,643

 Total .........23,186

CONFEDERATE
Killed ......... 3,500
Wounded ........14,500
Missing ........13,621

 Total .........31,621

Entire loss in both armies 54,807

  While the army received the plaudits of the people of the North, resolutions were 
passed by Congress, and the President sent a message of praise to the officers and men 
of the Army of the Potomac, for the great battle so nobly fought and won. This was all 
very nice, but what of the homes made desolate by the death of over 6,000 brave men, 
and over 28,000 poor wounded fellows, many of whom died, others eking out a 
miserable existence the balance of their lives? Can any form an idea of the vast amount 
of suffering in thousands of homes?
   A few little incidents that happened before during and after the battle. While in camp 
at Harrisburg before joining the regiment, John Mull, of Company G, received a 
furlough for a short time for the purpose of visiting his family, and while home he 
went out gunning and while so engaged the hammer of his gun accidentally caught a 
brush, exploded the cap and shot off the index finger on his right hand. On our way up 
the pike from Littlestown, on July 1st, Cal Parks and Mull got into a quarrel about 
some trivial matter, when Parks, who was a very rapid talker, said in Dutch, "Du 
daitshed besser hame ga un di finger opp sheesa."    Mull replied in his slow way, 
"Well, won ich miner opp gashosha hop sheesed du diner au opp,"    and sure enough, 
the first man wounded in the company was Cal Parks with his index finger of the right 
hand shot off at the same joint. When Parks was wounded Jere Moyer said: "Cal, you're 
wounded." Parks replied, "Tell me something I don't know," and started up the hill 
toward the hospital.
   The long haired yellow dog that followed the company from Maryland was with us 
all thru the Gettysburg battle and when a shell dropped near us and exploded, the dog, 
who had found a cool place under the rocks, would come forth and bark at the bursting 
shells. The dog stayed with us until our return march thru Maryland when he left us 
and we never saw anything of him again.   Sergeant Reuben A. Howeter, of Company 
H, who had been a theological student at Missionary Institute of Selinsgrove, was the 
first man the writer saw killed at Gettysburg. He was a fine fellow and beloved by all 
who knew him.
   Samuel May, who was a shyster and of whom I made mention in my Chancellorsville 
chapter, tried the same game of quit at Gettysburg. Someone close by the writer fired 
his musket off so close to my ear as to make it very uncomfortable. I turned and saw 
Sam May with a companion going up the hill as fast as he could In the rear of his 
company. I told Captain Byers, who was back of me at the time, about them going back. 
He used some pretty strong language and started after them right in the midst of the 
fight. When he got near them he commanded them to halt, which they did. They were 
at once ordered back to their company and Captain Byers told them in the presence of 
their company officer, Captain Mackey, that they had been making fun of Company G, 
calling the men cowards, conscripts, etc., and that now while Company G was standing 
like a rock these men were trying to run away. Byers further told their captain that if 
they attempted to get away again that he would turn the fire of Company G upon 
them. After this we never received any more taunts from them.

CHAPTER XXI
   J. A. Lumbard, if my memory serves me correctly, was the only member of the 
company detailed for skirmish duty during the battle. This certainly is always an 
unpleasant as well as a very dangerous duty to perform. After the repulse of the 
Confederates several of their battle flags were left upon the field directly in our front. 
Jere Moyer started to procure the one nearest to the company but the Colonel ordered 
him back. Jere was never satisfied that he was not allowed to get it. Some time after 
this a member of the Fifth Ohio regiment went out and brought it in.
   Some little distance on our left in front of the Seventh Ohio regiment of our brigade 
about 200 Confederates were coming in for the purpose of surrendering as prisoners, 
bearing flags or truce such as handkerchiefs, pieces of shelter tents, and whatever they 
were able to get. Assistant Adjt. General James M. Leigh, of General Ewell's staff, saw 
them, and riding among them, wanted them to return, when a company of the Fifth 
Ohio boys fired a volley at him, killing him and his horse instantly. The Confederates 
then came into our line and were made prisoners.   After the battle was over it was 
found that General Leigh's body was pierced with six bullets, and his horse was riddled 
with balls. It was also said that $85 in gold and a gold watch were taken from his 
pockets by some one of the Ohio boys. On the first day of July as we were marching up 
the Baltimore Pike towards the battle field we passed a lady, who was carrying a child 
and a little girl was running along side of her holding on to her mama's dress. All three 
were crying bitterly. The mother said the rebels had chased her and her children out of 
her home, but she hoped we would whip them and drive them off.
   Rebel General Archer's Brigade, including Archer with 800 men were captured in the 
first day's fight. They were brought back as prisoners. One among them had been 
wounded in the leg, but he was still a rampant Southern fire eater and said that the 
South would in the end conquer the North. Some of the boys of Company G had the 
pleasure of talking with him and found this Southerner to be M. M. Miller, from 
South Carolina, who, just before the war, was a student at Missionary Institute at 
Selinsgrove, but left the Institution and joined the rebel army. We never heard from 
him since.
   J. A. Lumbard and the writer walked out over the battle field on July 4th, where the 
dead were lying around by the hundreds. Seeing a rebel lying on his back with a blanket 
over his face Lumbard, of course, thinking him dead gave him a kick and said, "This 
fellow fell nice." To our great surprise the man threw the blanket off his face and said, 
"Please don't hurt me, I am badly wounded." and we walked away without even asking 
him whether we could do anything for him, or even so much as to offer him a drink of 
cold water. This has always been one of the saddest regrets of my life. We might excuse 
our actions by the fact that the feeling ran so high between the North and the South; 
that they were our enemies and ready to kill us at any opportunity; that we were mere 
boys only 20 years of age and knew but little of the ways of the world; but even 
granting the above excuses were true, yet how unkind and inhuman our treatment of 
this man.   On July 4th we had a great thunderstorm and very heavy rain. After the 
storm Samuel Jarrett made a fire to dry his clothes and shelter tent, when Henry 
Schreffler, of the company, came to this fire to boil a cup of coffee, and began stirring 
and scattering the fire. Jarrett said, "Ich will net hovva dos du my fire furdarbst, ich will 
my glater un my stzelt drickala, grick un noscht mit un hocka drau and habe di coffee 
ivver os fire. Ich du nix on der soch hut der Schreffler gasaut. Well mere wella sana, un 
we bulfer is dis omale op gonga, de cougla sin no de bame rum gafloga un de rin 
opgashloga ovver des hut nix ous gamocht. Grossa worta sin au rum gaflooga. Der 
Sammy hut der Schreffler om holtz firicked un gasaut by goonney 'des wor um Sammy 
si sprech wort' sell nem ich net au un hut der Schreffler wetter um daum gabacked un 
ene amole ains he sheesa wella we der Kankee Garmon si cop ous sime stzelt gapaked 
un hut gagrisha 'Go in Santy Anna.' Des hut der Sammy locha mocha, un graute hen se 
era druvel gasettled un de union un de konstitution warra witter safe."  
 
CHAPTER XXII
   On the third of July after repeated charges by the enemy upon our regiment, the 
ground in our immediate front was strewn with the dead and wounded. We noticed one 
wounded man sat up and reached for a gun. The supposition was that he intended to 
shoot someone of our officers. A few shots were fired at him, but none struck him and 
I think they were only fired to scare him. He loaded his gun, placed a cap on the tube, 
then placed the butt of the gun between his feet, placed the ramrod upon the trigger 
with one hand and held the muzzle under his chin with the other. He looked down to 
see that all was right, when he pushed the ramrod against the trigger and another poor 
soul was ushered into eternity. After the retreat of the rebels a number of the company 
went out to see this man and found he had been shot thru both hips, the ball having 
gone clear thru. Many rebel dead were buried on the afternoon of the fourth.
   On Sunday morning, July 5th, Samuel Jarrett, James W. Smith, and the writer were 
detailed to help bury the dead. Sergeant Wallace was permanently detailed on pioneer 
duty and he helped to dig the trenches. Jarrett, Smith and myself helped to gather up 
the dead and bring them to the trenches. We four, as my memory serves me, were the 
only ones of Company G who helped in this work. The woods were full of dead men 
and horses, some of whom had been killed on the evening of the second.
   On the night of the third, and on July fourth, very hot with heavy thunderstorms, 
and Sunday morning, the fifth, the sun came out bright and hot, and the stench from 
these dead was something fearful.
   While the trenches were being dug we gathered the corpses and the stench was so 
great that we were ordered not to carry any more until the pioneers had finished their 
work. Some of the pioneers got sick and had to quit. The trenches were dug about six 
and a half feet wide and about two and a half feet deep. We placed 42 in one trench and 
31 in another. The trenches were dug in the woods. A tree separated the two trenches.
   We gathered these dead, who lay in every conceivable position, from a very small 
portion of the field.
   In their last resting place they were placed side by side and two deep. Three men 
generally brought in a corpse, one at each arm or a stick was placed under their 
shoulders, and carried to the trenches. The third one would grasp the legs just above 
the ankle. In this manner we lifted the corpse, when the head would drop back almost 
dragging on the ground, while the blood oozed from mouth ears and nose. Nearly all 
the dead had turned black. It was said that whiskey had been given the rebel soldiers 
before going into battle and that was the cause of their turning black. Oh! the horrible 
sight! Can you imagine it? These poor fellows, middle-aged, young men, and boys, fine 
looking, and to sacrifice their lives for so unworthy a cause and one which they thought 
was right. As I write these lines it makes my heart feel sad to think of war's destruction. 
Would you believe it, every one of these unfortunates as they lay there dead, had been 
visited by the battlefield thieves and every one was searched and their pockets rifled. 
We helped carry a very large man. He had been killed and lay in a pool of water when 
we placed the sticks under him and started for the trench. In stepping over a mud 
puddle the stick broke and he fell into the water and such a time as we had in getting 
him out.
   A captain of the pioneer corps cut the bark off the tree and then asked, how many are 
in the trenches? The answer was 73. Just then a member of the Fifth Ohio regiment of 
our brigade, came in with a bare foot (the leg of some Confederated had been shot off 
just above the ankle.) A sharpened stick had been stuck into the foot and he carried it 
on his shoulder in this way to the trenches. He said to the captain, how many in this 
trench? The captain replied 73. The other said make it 73 and one foot. This story, (as 
well as the one about the rebel shooting himself) are still told by the battlefield guides.
   People from all sections of the country came on horseback, afoot and in carriages to 
visit the battlefield. Hundreds had gathered and while they were watching the burial of 
the dead a number of the army boys gathered up guns, loaded them and then fired a 
volley, at the same time yelling that the rebels were coming, and in a very few minutes 
the place was entirely cleared of citizens. These dead men were far away from their 
homes and loved ones and were buried like brutes without any religious services of any 
kind. After the war these bodies were disinterred and taken to Richmond, Va., and 
buried in the Confederate cemetery.

CHAPTER XXIII
   While lying in camp here the writer went to town to have a few cakes baked. We soon 
found a place where a lady was doing some baking for the soldiers. We asked her 
whether she would bake us some cakes. She seemed to be delighted to have the 
privilege, and said to us that we should make a chair until the cakes were baked. And we 
certainly were delighted to wait until they were baked. But while waiting for the cakes 
an order came in and in a very stern and commanding way asked the lady if he could 
have some cakes? She answered: "Yes, as soon as this soldier is served I will bake some 
for you." The officer said: "Let him wait. I am an officer, serve me first." This the lady 
resented, and said: "No, he shall be served first, then you shall have your cakes."   
When the cakes were baked she very nicely handed them to me. I thanked her very 
kindly for them. The officer was not pleased at all, but notwithstanding he had to wait 
to be served until after I had received my cakes. I always had a kind feeling for this 
young lady, and often wished I knew her name.
   We had in our company a soldier by the name of William Henry Harrison Shiffer; 
for short we called him Bawley. Bawley was a fiery red headed fellow; his face and hands 
full of red spots. Well, Bawley was away from camp for a day or two, having been lost. 
On seeing him coming back to the company, Jim Smith said: "Why do kumt yo der 
Bawley, dar wor fur shure furlora, gook usht amohl we rushtic dos ar is,"    This did 
not suit Bawley very well and he expressed himself by using some very strong language 
such as is not found in Sunday school books.
   About 10:30 a. m. we were relieved from our sickening duties of burying the dead 
and the order to march was given. We traveled down the Baltimore pike to Littlestown 
and encamped near the town. Marched 10 miles.
   We remained in this camp until the morning of the seventh, Tuesday, when we struck 
tents, marched back into Maryland, passed thru Taneytown, Woodsboro, Middleburg, 
and Walkersville, and encamped near the latter place. Marched 28 miles.
   Wednesday, July 8th. Broke camp, passed thru Walkersville, Frederick City, and 
Jefferson, and encamped about one and a fourth mile from the latter place, traveling 15 
miles. This was a hard day on all of us, because of the very heavy rain all day, which 
made the pike like mortar. Here we first heard of the surrender of General Pimberton 
to General Grant at Vicksburg, Miss. We were drenched to the skin and almost 
exhausted by our hard marches and fighting and the extreme hot weather, so that when 
we arrived at Frederick and General Geary read the dispatch to us not a single cheer 
was given. We felt at this time like SOLLY APP, who said, in the droll way on one of 
our heavy marches and when we were nearly played out: "Ich fecht fur de Union, ovver 
de naighst mog tsum divel ga."  
   A bright, jovial and good looking young man had come to our camp after the 
Chancellorsville campaign, his name was Richardson, and hailed from Howard county, 
Md., and became our newsboy. He rode a horse and the papers he sold were unfolded 
and spread over the horse's back from which he distributed them throughout the camp 
at five cents each, and Company G bought many a paper from him. We all liked him. 
He continued with us on our Gettysburg campaign, making his headquarters with the 
army wagon train. While the army marched to Gettysburg the wagon train was sent to 
Westminster, Md., about 40 miles away. When the battle was over the train was sent in 
advance of the army to Frederick City. While there this young man was suspicioned by 
General Kilpatrick of being a rebel spy.
   He was arrested and found guilty, he having at the time of his arrest a complete map 
of the defenses of Baltimore and Washington. It was said that when these papers were 
found on his person and when confronted with the other strong evidence, which was 
brought against him, that he made a full confession and said that he had been in 
communication with the rebel cavalry and had he not been arrested for one hour more 
our entire wagon train would have been destroyed by the rebel cavalry. As a result of 
information given he was immediately ordered to be hanged just west of the city and 
left hanging for three days. The whole army, which had been concentrated at Frederick, 
was marched by this rebel spy.
   We saw him on the second day after he was hanged. He was entirely nude, his eyes 
protruded from their sockets and were wide open, the veins over his body were much 
swollen, in short, it was a horrible sight to behold. A poor, misguided, intelligent 
young man, who offered up his young life without honor to himself, his family or his 
country.

CHAPTER XXIV
   Thursday, July 9th, we broke camp, passed thru Burgetsville and encamped near 
Rohersville, traveling 10 miles.
   Friday, July 10th. Struck tents, marched thru Rohersville, Keedyville, and encamped 
about a half mile from Bakersville. Marched seven miles.
   Saturday, July 11th, broke camp, passed thru Bakersville and Fairplay. When we 
entered the town of Fairplay a Rebel flag, which the citizens had raised on a pole, was 
floating in the breeze. Only a short time elapsed until this was lowered and Old Glory 
took its place. At this place we found a spring of water such as we had never seen 
before. The water was of the best, and gushed forth in a great volume. Just below the 
spring a large grist mill was run by its water power. The boys made good use of the 
water while in this vicinity.
   At this place we expected a battle. The rebels were in sight, but orders were given that 
not a shot should be fired. Our entire regiment was placed upon the skirmish line, in 
open fields during the extreme heat of the day. On the 8th, just three days before this, 
we entered Frederick City, we were almost drowned by the heavy rains, today almost 
burned up by the scorching rays of a July sun.
   John Reed managed to get away from the company and bought a pie from a lady and 
he was coming toward the company when the Colonel rode up to him, gave him a few 
cuts over the knapsack with his riding whip, reprimanding him, and telling him that he 
wanted him to remain with his company. But John, like the good soldier that he was, 
held on to his pie, and made good use of it later on.
   During the day some rebels drove off 10 or 12 head of cattle within gunshot of us, 
but we were not allowed to shoot. This was galling to us, but the orders had to be 
obeyed. We remained here during the night, marched only two miles.
   Sunday, July 12th, everything quiet in camp all day.
   Monday, July 13th, a line of breastworks was thrown up about one mile from 
Fairplay. Large fields of grain had been harvested and stood on shock. The fences 
surrounding beautiful fields were torn down, a sort of cribbing made with the rails, 
then the grain that was standing on shock, gathered and placed in the cribbing, and 
ground thrown on the grain which made us a real good breastwork. In our regimental 
front was a large field of grain, and when ordered to use it, for breastworks, it took 
only a little while until every sheaf had been gathered. We now felt pretty secure should 
we be attacked.
   Tuesday, July 14th, remained all day in our breastworks.
   Wednesday. July 15th, The expected did not happen, and we left our breastworks 
without a battle. We discovered that the rebels were retreating and nearly the entire 
rebel army was now south of the Potomac River. We left our breastworks, passed thru 
Fairplay, Bakersville, and Sharpsburg, marched over the Antietam Battlefield, passed 
Antietam iron works, crossed Antietam Creek, and encamped near Maryland Heights, 
on the Potomac. Traveled 17 miles.
   Thursday, July 16th, broke camp, passed thru Sandy Hook and encamped about a 
half mile from town. Marched three miles.
   Friday and Saturday, July 17th and 18th. Remained in camp. While in this camp 
Lieutenant B. T. Parks was hit on the calf of his leg by a spent minnie ball, and while 
the ball did not penetrate the skin yet it was very painful. This was only the beginning 
of the Lieutenant's troubles, which we will relate further on.
   Sunday, July l9th, struck tents, marched thru Sandy Hook, Maryland, crossed the 
Potomac River on a pontoon bridge at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, passed thru the 
town, crossed the Shenandoah River near the town on a wire bridge, encamping near 
Hillsboro old Virginia, traveled 12 miles. We marched in three States today: Maryland, 
West Virginia and old Virginia. When we entered Harper's Ferry, the boys soon 
smelled in the air that a bakery was not far off. By a little maneuvering it was found 
that a large bakery was close by us. This place was enclosed by a high board fence, but 
unfortunately the proprietor left the gate open.     The baker, seeing trouble ahead, 
rushed off for a guard from the troops, who were stationed there, but before he 
returned a charge was made upon the bake ovens and the hot pies were taken out of the 
oven, and such a time for a little while, it was amusing. Someone would grab a hot pie 
(these pies were made out of what the Snyder county Dutch would say dried apple 
snits). He would soon find out that it was too hot to hold, or someone would snatch it 
out of his hand. Finally the pies were so far back in the oven that some venturesome 
fellow would get near the opening of the oven and reach back and get out the red-hot 
pies. Soon they became reckless and pushed one of the soldiers into the oven. When he 
yelled like a Comanche Indian, they pulled him out and the others all took warning and 
kept away. When the baker arrived with his guard all looked as innocent as little lambs, 
but the baker's pies had disappeared.

CHAPTER XXV
   Monday, July 20th, broke camp, marched to Snickersville and pitched our tents, 
marched 10 miles. We remained in this camp July 21 and 22.
   Thursday, July 23rd, broke camp, passed thru Snickersville, Upperville, and Paris. 
Marched until one o'clock at night and encamped, traveling 25 miles.
   Friday, July 24th. We left camp this morning, passed thru Markham, also the Rebel 
General Ashby's beautiful Southern home. The General had been killed in one of the 
engagements in Western Virginia. We were marching toward Manasses Gap when we 
counter-marched, came to Markham, passed General Ashby's home and encamped near 
Peidmont. Traveled 15 miles.
   At Snickersville some of the boys went out on a hillside field to get a few 
blackberries. While walking along in the bushes, they spied a Johnnie Reb, also eating 
berries. They ordered him to surrender, which he did. But he said he had been in the 
Gettysburg campaign and as the Confederate army was going south and marching so close to his home he thought he would go and see his old mother. He said, "Just in 
yonder house she lives. Had I not stopped to eat blackberries I could have seen her, but 
now I am a prisoner and must go with my captors." Such keen disappointment as this 
is the cruel price of war.
   General Ashby's home was one of the finest we saw in all Virginia. The house stood 
on an elevation with a lawn of several acres surrounding it. The soldiers thought that 
home might be a good place from which to get something to eat. Quite a number of us 
managed to get into the lawn, when five large, full grown blood hounds came dashing 
for us, and just then we believed we would have been just as safe in the midst of a 
battle as on General Ashby's lawn without a gun. But each of us had his rifle loaded and 
when those dogs came near enough we fired and five dead blood hounds lay before us. 
Whether or not these dogs were purposely set upon us we had no way of finding out, 
but we claimed the advantage of the doubt and acted accordingly. Plenty of edibles were 
taken but nothing was maliciously destroyed.
   Today we passed over the battlefield where General Pleasenton whipped the rebel 
cavalry previous to the battle of Gettysburg, and while resting, one of Company C's 
boys went to a stone fence to light his pipe, Powder had been spilled here during the 
fight and when he lighted his pipe he carelessly threw down his match, which ignited 
the powder, seriously burning him. The surgeon applied some remedy to his face, 
which turned it as black as a negro's. He was placed in an ambulance and sent to the 
rear.
   Some troops just ahead of us got into a little fight and captured an entire rebel 
battery. These men were brought in under heavy guard, each batteryman occupying his 
accustomed place. Some were sitting on caissons, while others were riding their horses. 
We were highly pleased to have them come in this way and only wished that all the rest 
might come in the same way.
   Saturday July 25th, broke camp, passed thru Rectortown, and encamped in 
Thoroughfare Gap, traveling 15 miles. On this march we were commanded to carry a 
full canteen of water owing to the scarcity in the gap, but we found full and plenty of 
the best.   Sunday, July 26th, broke camp, passed thru Thoroughfare Gap, Greenwich 
and Catletts Station on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. Went into camp near 
Warrenton Junction. Marched 25 miles. Today we passed over what is called the White 
Plains, which was the poorest section of country we met with in Virginia. We had been 
again commanded to fill our canteens as water was very scarce, but because we had 
received the same order the day before and had found water in abundance of the best 
quality, we did not obey the command, and tent day we got into a country that was 
about dried up and our canteens were empty. The town of Greenwich used nothing but 
cistern water gathered from tar roofs, which was not fit to drink, and all along by 
Catlett's Station and Warrenton Junction we could scarcely get water enough to quench 
our thirst. The heat was intense and everything dry and dusty. We scoured the country 
far and near to find water locating her and there a small spring or run and these were 
soon dipped dry by the hundreds of thirsty boys. We remained in this camp until July 
31st.
 
CHAPTER XXVI
   While here Captain Davis, who had been home on sick furlough, returned to us and 
we were all glad to have him with us again. He brought many messages for the boys 
from their loved ones back in old Selinsgrove, and many were the questions asked him 
concerning the old folks at home.
   July 26, Lieutenant Nelson Byers left us to go to Philadelphia for the purpose of 
getting recruits for our regiment, which at this time numbered less than three hundred 
men. In the yard at General Slocum's headquarters was a fine well, around which a 
guard was placed and no one was allowed to get any water except for use at 
headquarters. The house occupied by Slocum had evidently been used as a hospital 
during a battle some time before.
   A few days after headquarters had been established (the well was a draw well) the 
bucket had been let down for water and to the surprise of the drawer part of a man's leg 
which had been amputated in the hospital and thrown down the well, was in the bucket. 
This, it was said, was the cause of the removal of our camp next day, and the boys were 
all happy that they had not been allowed to get any water from the moss covered 
bucket that hung in the well."
   The first evening we encamped here a goodly number of the boys gathered brass 
carbine cartridges (a cavalry battle had been fought here and the ground was strewn 
with cartridges) and these were placed upon the railroad track which ran thru camp for 
quite a distance. After dark some time a freight train came up from Alexandria and 
when the wheels of the engine struck these cartridges they exploded and made quite a 
racket. The engineer thought he had run into a Rebel camp and was being fired upon, 
stopped, reversed his engine and ran his train back a few miles to Catlett's Station. 
There he learned the truth of the situation and brought his train back again. The boys 
who did this work were soon scattered by the guards, and each one skedaddled to his 
respective company. Lewis Millhoff of Company G, was the only one captured. Of 
course the only guilty one, he was placed under guard at General Geary's headquarters 
during the night and released in the morning.
   Saturday, July 31st, struck tents, passed Warrenton Junction, crossed Cedar Creek, 
and went into camp on the north bank of the Rappahannock River only a short 
distance from Kelly's Ford. where we had crossed while on our Chancellorsville 
campaign just about three months before. Marched 20 miles.
   Orders were given to erect our tents and we, of course, expected to remain all night 
and have a much needed night's rest after a hard day's march. After dark some time, 
orders were sent around by General Geary to strike tents and pack up quietly, and soon 
we were marched down to the river where the pontoon train was ready with their canvas 
boats. Several boats were pushed off into the river and loaded with men, the writer and 
several of the company among them, and hurriedly departed for the southern shore. As 
soon as we landed the boats returned for more men. Those that had already crossed 
formed a skirmish line in the shape of a half moon, with flanks resting on the river, 
and as each detachment was landed, this skirmish line was extended. Under this guard 
the bridge was completed in a very short time and the troops began crossing. However, 
before the bridge was quite finished the Rebel cavalry pickets discovered that the 
Yankees had played a trick on them, by pretending to go into camp and then in the 
stillness of the night, when all of us had lain down for a good night's rest, we had been 
roused out of our slumber and taken across the river before they discovered the move.
   The Rebel cavalry of course advanced. Our skirmishers kept quiet and got down into 
the high grass and when the cavalry was near enough our line fired into them and their 
surprise was so complete that they about faced and skedaddled. By daylight our whole 
corps was again south of the Rappahannock. Our entire regiment was placed on the 
skirmish line during Sunday, August 1st.
   In the evening we again re-crossed at Kelly's Ford on the pontoon bridge and 
encamped for the night. At the Battle of Gettysburg, George D. Griggs, (nicknamed 
Colonel) unnecessarily exposed himself to the enemy, but when we got to the 
Rappahannock River he was very despondent, and seemed to have a dread of crossing 
the river. He had a premonition that if he crossed to the south side he would never get 
back alive. When we did get back Jake Garman (nicknamed Yankee) tapped Griggs on 
the shoulder and said, "Colonel, you ain't dead yet." Strange, but he soon became the 
same Colonel Griggs and as jolly as ever.

CHAPTER XXVII
   Monday, August 2nd. Struck tents and marched down the Rappahannock River to 
near Ellis' Ford, where we encamped. This was one of the hottest days we experienced 
on our Gettysburg campaign. Traveled four miles. If my memory serves me right eight 
soldiers of our division were sun struck that afternoon. Today our Gettysburg 
campaign closed. We left Aquia Creek on June 13th, marched north along the Potomac 
River, crossed over into Maryland at Edward's Ferry, thru the State into Pennsylvania, 
fought the battle of Gettysburg, and returned, passing thru Maryland, West Virginia 
and Old Virginia, and now in camp only 20 miles from where we started.
   This campaign was made during the heat of the summer, and the distance traveled 
was 391 miles. The actual marching days were 27, making an average march of 14 ½, 
miles a day. I would have you remember that we did not wear nice cool shirts, neither 
white linen trousers, nor linen dusters, neither were we furnished with white gloves, 
fans or umbrellas, but on the contrary we wore woolen socks at 32 cents per pair; 
woolen shirts, $1.50 each; shoes, $2.05 per pair; a forage cap, 60 cents; a pair of 
trousers, 95 cents, and a woolen blouse at $3.12. Entire cost of outfit, $11.04. On the 
march we were not permitted (no matter how hot the weather was) to take off our 
coats, but had to have them buttoned up to the neck. Such clothing was all right for 
winter, but for summer they were regular sweat boxes.
   The Government officials did not seem to concern themselves about the boys who 
were doing the work. While in this camp, four regiments of our brigade, the fifth, 
seventh, 29th, and 66th Ohio were sent to New York City for the purpose of quelling 
the great draft riots of 1863. The above named regiments were taken to Long Island, 
but their services were not required, and in a short time they were again sent back to 
us. After the New York riots, many of these rioters (roughs and toughs) enlisted to 
escape arrest and punishment. We received drafted men on the tenth of the month, who 
were attached to Company G. About 100 in all were brought to the regiment from 
Philadelphia by Captain Moore, of Company B, and Lieutenant Byers, of our company. 
The names of those assigned to our company were Henry Brown, Charles Grant, 
Francis Smith, and Edward Reed Smith. These four were first-class soldiers and all 
remained with us until the close of the war, with the exception of Charles Grant, whom 
we nicknamed Jack. He was killed on the skirmish line at Kenesaw Mountain, Ga., June 
24, 1864.
   Charles Brown, Thomas Medbeater, Thomas McDonald, William Powell, and 
William Rayburn, these six were drafted August 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 1863 and all 
deserted on October 1st, same year. When these were brought to camp the ambulance 
which accompanied the squad carried a dead soldier who had taken sick on the way. 
Someone looked into the ambulance and saw him then remarked, there is no use to 
send us dead soldiers as we make them out here. The above remark shows that no 
regard whatever was paid to life.
   Our camp at this place was a dandy. Located at a beautiful place well laid out and I 
think the best for health of any thus far occupied. Not a member of our company was 
sick during our encampment at this place. Perhaps the extreme service we had on our 
Gettysburg campaign gave us new life and the rest which we now had we enjoyed to the 
fullest extent.
   While in this camp Freddie Ulrich returned to the company from the hospital. The 
boys saw him coming at a distance and having recognized him they saw that he was 
dressed up like a Philadelphia sport with a white collar, shoes shined, a silk necktie, 
and I don't remember whether he had his pantaloons pressed but as he came within 
hailing distance the boys began yelling at him, take off that necktie! Tear up that white 
collar! Philadelphia sport! Fifth and Buttonwood, Callowhill street! (These two latter 
places were hospitals in which Freddie has been since he was away from the company). 
While all were exceedingly glad to have him join us again and grasp him by the hand in 
the warmest kind of friendship yet we all felt like teasing him and I think we carried it 
out to perfection. In less than a week his pale face had disappeared and he looked as 
black and dirty as any of us.

CHAPTER XXVIII
  On a Sunday morning while in this camp a half dozen or more of us wandered out a 
little from camp and found a cultivated field of a few acres surrounded with woods. We 
noticed a large cherry tree along the edge of the woods with several large limbs 
extending over the field and a nice green plot of grass beneath its shade. Here we lay 
down and were talking about our past experiences as soldiers; about friends at home 
and almost everything else boys would naturally talk about, when the writer turned on 
his back and looking up, saw a large black snake lying on a limb just above us with 12 
or 15 inches of its head hanging over the limb and it appeared ready to jump down on 
us. We yelled Snake! And in less time than I could tell it we were from under that tree 
but we could see no snake. The top of the tree was broken off and was hollow. We 
drew sticks to see who should go to camp for an axe to cut down the tree. The one sent 
for the axe stayed too long for us so we discovered a pretty large hole near the bottom 
of the tree and decided that if we could find a few leaves and dry sticks we might burn 
out his snakeship. We did this and it proved a great success, for the old tree burned 
like a chimney soon began to waver and finally fell. Each had provided himself with a 
club and swore allegiance to stand by each other should the snake attack any of us. We 
supposed him to be in one of the hollow limbs but the tree having fallen no snake 
appeared. On examination of the stump we found the dead snake as he had no way of 
escape from the heat of the rotten parts of the tree which had fallen from the inside 
and were burning. Perhaps it was our good luck that he was burned. The snake 
measured over seven feet in length. The largest snake we ever saw. We also saw snake 
feet which were about three-fourth way back from its head and were about as thick as 
the end of a man's finger and about three-fourth inch long. We had often heard of 
snakes having feet but unless they were burned to death they could not be seen. The 
burning of this snake proved the assertion beyond a doubt.
   In this camp we were paid a few months wages, amounting to the enormous sum of 
$13 per month. This money was usually sent to Col. Henry C. Eyer of Selinsgrove, 
and he would attend to properly distributing it among the friends of the company, 
whom each one had selected to take charge of his cash. When the ten drafted men or 
bounty jumpers previously mention were assigned to the company, they were full of 
money and after our boys were paid off the gamblers of our regiment began playing 
cards for money; piles and piles of it lay before them as stakes and the camp, for a 
little while, was made a den of thieves. Fights and knockdowns seemed to be the order 
of the day, and the guard house was full of toughs. But Company G had no trouble in 
that direction, for while many played cards very few gambled and not one of the 
company was placed in the guard house. The writer became so disgusted with the 
excessive card playing that he never even learned to know the names of the cards, and 
the truth of it is, since then he has never had any desire to learn to play. With few 
exceptions this is a true statement that those who played cards and carried a deck, 
whenever our skirmishers were sent out and a battle was imminent, would invariably 
throw the decks away. We have seen the roads strewn with cards for great distances. 
Each fellow seemed to think that, after all, it was not just the right thing to be found 
dead with a deck of cards in his pocket. And yet when the battle was over and these 
same fellows had escaped being hurt they would immediately gather up the cards until 
they had a full deck and when another battle was probable the above mentioned practice 
was repeated. But the boys were not all bad and I would judge, at least 95 per cent were 
good citizens and also good soldiers.
   Tuesday, September 15 we broke camp at Ellis' Ford after remaining here since 
August 2. A very pleasant time was spent while in this camp, and we were all loath to 
leave it. We marched to Kelley's Ford and encamped, traveled five miles. Just one year 
ago today we were sworn into the United States service. Yesterday, September 14, our 
very worthy Orderly Sergeant, B.T. Parks, was promoted to Second Lieutenant to fill 
the vacancy caused by the death of Lieutenant William H. Schroyer.

CHAPTER XXIX
   Wednesday, September 17, struck tents, crossed the Rappahannock River at Kelly's 
Ford, and encamped at Stevensburg, marched 12 miles.
   Thursday, September 18, struck tents, marched to near Montron Ford on the 
Rapidan River and encamped, marched three miles.
   Friday, September 19. Today we were called upon to again witness the shooting of 
two deserters. Just three months ago lacking one day three were shot at Leesburg on 
our march to Gettysburg. These five soldiers belonged to our White Star division. The 
two latter ones were members of the 88th New York regiment, 3rd brigade. General 
Geary's headquarters or body guard was detailed to do the shooting. The soldiers were 
seated upon their coffins or rather rough boxes in the same manner as those described 
at the shooting at Leesburg on June 19.
   The guard having been placed in order, the officer in charge gave the command to 
fire. One fell back into the box dead; the other remained sitting upright. Another 
platoon of the firing squad was hurried up and when they fired the poor fellow fell; his 
elbow struck the rough box; he recovered himself and sat up for the second time. The 
third squad was ordered up; they fired and he fell into his box, dead. Two more souls 
were ushered into eternity by the mandate of the cruel war. After witnessing the 
shooting or murdering of these men we changed our mind as to capital punishment and 
we are now fully convinced that it is wrong to take from man that which God alone can 
give.
   General Geary was wonderfully excited and reprimanded the guard in the severest 
kind of language. When the guard is drawn up into line, an officer hands each one a 
loaded gun. When the guns are loaded one in the number is loaded with a blank 
cartridge. This is done to relieve the minds of the firing squad that perhaps after all his 
gun was a blank.
   While near this place on September 15, the four Ohio regiments, who had been sent 
to New York to assist in the quelling of the draft riots, returned. George S. Davis, 
brother of our captain, paid us a visit while in this camp. He was a suttler for the 
150th regiment, P.V.I. Bucktails.
   The Rapidan River is a very narrow stream. Here the two armies confronted each 
other, doing picket duty, and firing along the line day and night. Many members of 
Company G had narrow escapes from being shot. From this camp we could hear the 
Confederate bands playing in the evening, and hear our enemies cheering. It is said that 
along the Rapidan River one of the Yankee bands one evening played Yankee Doodle, 
and our boys sent up a rousing cheer, but beyond the river, in the Confederate camp, 
all was quiet. Then a Confederate band played Dixie, and the Confederates cheered, and 
our boys were quiet. Again the Federal band struck up the Star Spangled Banner, and 
such cheering was never heard before, but all was quiet in the Confederate camp. Again 
the Rebel band played the Bonnie Blue Flag, and every one of the Confederates was 
cheering, and again in our camp all was quiet. Finally our band played Home, Sweet 
Home! and when the last echoes of that music had died away the cheering began in our 
camp and ended in the Confederate camp. Home, Sweet Home! The one great piece of 
music which appealed to friend and foeman alike, and sent our united cheers echoing 
into the dismal night.
   One evening while in this camp, and while getting our suppers a number of volleys of 
musketry were fired in the rear of our camp. The long roll was given upon the drums 
and the bugles sounded the fall-in call from Division and Corps Headquarters. Our 
coffee and supper, then on the fire, was taken off; coffee thrown away; the tents torn 
down, packed and upon our backs. General Slocum's staff officers, also General Geary 
and his staff were on horseback, riding at breakneck speed to and fro, getting things in 
shape for a battle. One of General Slocum's staff officers, who had ridden out in the 
direction of the firing, had returned with the news that General Beaufort, the cavalry 
commander, had just returned from a reconnaissance and 
had ordered his men to fire their carbines and clean them. I think we were all glad it 
was a fooler, but still we heard a good deal of growling because the boys had thrown 
away their coffee and had to prepare another supper. 

CHAPTER XXX
   While the armies were facing each other along the banks of the Rapidan River, the 
armies of the southwest under General Rosencrans were hard pressing General Bragg. 
General Longstreet, who had taken his corps from the arm of Virginia to reenforce 
Bragg, fell upon Rosencrans and the great battle of Chickamauga was fought on 
September 17th, 1863, and news was sent to the Confederate army confronting us, 
that the Yankee General Rosencrans had been whipped and driven into the defenses 
surrounding Chattanooga. We knew from the cheering and jollification in the 
Confederate camp that they had received some good news from somewhere.
   On September 20, we also received the discouraging news of our army's defeat at 
Chicamauga, Tennessee. On September 24, we struck tents, passed thru Stevensburg 
and encamped about three miles north of the town, marched six miles.
   Friday, September 25, broke camp, marched to Brandy Station on the Rappahannock 
River and encamped, traveled three miles. While marching along today a darky picked 
up a loaded carbine cartridge, placed it against a tree, took a stone and began pounding 
against the shell. He struck the cap, the shell exploded and a piece of cartridge cut the 
darky across the forehead, making quite a deep gash and the blood flowed freely. He 
was wonderfully scared and if a Negro ever turns pale I think he was as near to it as it 
is possible for one to get.
   Saturday, September 26, we were ordered to strike tents. We passed Brandy Station 
on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, crossed the Rappahannock River at 
Rappahannock Bridge, passed the station, halted at Bealton station and went into camp, 
marched 14 miles.
   Our services in the Army of the Potomac came to a close that day, and I know that 
Company G left a record of which she need not be ashamed. When the Governor 
Snyder monument was unveiled in Selinsgrove a number of years later the colonel of 
our regiment, John Craig, was present at that time. The Colonel and the writer walked 
down Market street together and, meeting an old soldier, I introduced Colonel Craig to 
him as the commander of the 147th Regiment, to which Company G belonged. The 
soldier said, Oh, Yes! This is the Colonel that commanded the company (G) that 
saved the Union. The Colonel replied, "Well, Company G did her full share towards it 
and I want to say further that Company G can feel very proud of her record". Quite a 
compliment from one who knew all about the company and I am sure the boys all 
appreciated the words of our brave commander.
Our Western Trip:
   Sunday evening. September 27, about 8 o'clock, we boarded box cars at Bealton 
Station on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad for our destination. Chattanooga, 
Tenn. But of the destination we were ignorant at this time and yet it was wonderful 
how well so many could guess right concerning the different moves of the army. We 
were placed in box cars. which had a seat on each side of the car running lengthwise, 
and one in the centre. These benches, or seats, were made like the old-fashioned school 
house benches. Forty-five men were placed in one car and when night came we were 
huddled together like so many porkers. Our beds were the soft side of the bottom of 
the cars with not even a handful of straw. We left old Virginia not to return again until 
the war had closed.
   The first stop we made was Alexandria, eight miles from Washington. Here William 
Keller came into the car with sixteen loaves of bread, government size and first class, 
under his arm and distributed it among the boys and no questions were asked as to 
where he bought it. Only a short time and our train passed thru Washington, from 
there to the relay house five miles from Baltimore, Md. on the B. and O. Railroad. 
Passed Point of Rocks, Harper's Ferry, and Martinsburg, West Virginia, and took 
supper at the latter place September 28, Monday. All got off the train and in order 
marched in a line on each side of the tables, loaded with hardtack, pork and coffee. 
When all had received their ration, we again boarded the train and continued our 
journey during the night.
   Tuesday, September 29. Today, near Cumberland, our train met with an accident. 
The train came to a standstill just around a hill on a curve. Our car was the fourth 
from the rear end of our section. Some of the boys had gone up the hill after chestnuts 
and the captain with several others sat in the door of the car, while the writer sat on the 
middle seat inside. I saw these men jump and concluded that something was not right 
and just as we were ready to get up a train of soldiers ran into us from the rear and 
when the crash was over the writer, slightly bruised, lay under the seat. The two rear 
cars were pushed on top of the third one, which was next to ours. Thirteen soldiers 
were wounded, but none killed. A splinter from one of the cars about eighteen inches 
long and about as broad as a man's hand, pierced the thigh of one of the boys and stuck 
out six to eight inches on each side of his leg, producing a very painful wound. 

CHAPTER XXXI
   Soon the train was moving on again, passed Piedmont, Cameron and a number of 
other places along the route until we reached Benwood, West Virginia, about four miles 
south of Wheeling. Here we got off the cars and crossed the Ohio River on a pontoon 
bridge to Bellaire, Ohio. Here again on the banks of the Ohio River we received more 
rations of hardtack, pork and coffee. Again we took to our box cars on the Central 
Ohio Railroad, passing Belmont, Fairmont, Bannerville, and Cambridge and to 
Columbus the capitol of Ohio. Here we stopped for a short time, then on thru 
Jefferson, New London, South Charleston, Cedarville, and Xenia, where we were nobly 
treated by the citizens with good things to eat. Leaving here, we reached Dayton, a 
most beautiful city. This was the home of Colonel Craighton and Lieutenant Colonel 
Crane, of the 7th Ohio Regiment, belonging to our Brigade.
   Continuing thru Ohio and while we had a large train heavily loaded going up grade, 
the cylinder head of our engine blew out and the train stopped until another 
locomotive could be brought on to help us off. Just across the fence near our train 
there was a large apple orchard loaded with fine fruit. It took but a few minutes to have 
nearly the whole train load of soldiers over the fence and carrying apples by bushels 
into the cars. It certainly was a great treat for all of us. At Columbus, the capitol, ladies 
came along the train and gave us pies, cakes, all kinds of fruit, and a little smile and a 
kind word for each of us, which was so nice and we all appreciated it to the fullest 
extent.
   Here also the men would come with large baskets of grapes, peaches, etc. One we 
remember came with a large basket of fine peaches and some soldier caught him by the 
neck and backed him up against the car and said: "Drop that basket." But he held on to 
the basket. The grip on his neck became tighter and he finally dropped it with the fruit. 
By this time some one from the 28th regiment came up and said he could whip the 
man that choked the peach man. The fellow that did the choking came up and said: "I 
am the man." and in less time than I can tell it the 28th man went to his regiment a 
well used up fellow. The officers, hearing of the trouble, ordered all aboard the cars 
and none were allowed to get off while we remained in Columbus.
   Wednesday, September 30. We now passed into Indiana, thru Richmond and 
Centerville, at which latter place we stopped for a little while. Here a small cannon was 
found, and some of the boys soon had it on the street, loaded it by breaking cartridges 
to get the powder and then fired it directly thru the street. Others got into line and 
charged the battery. The citizens were very much excited, but as no one was hurt it 
created a great deal of amusement both for the participants and the spectators.
   At Cambridge City a fine supper was prepared and served in the railroad station, but 
we were carried directly thru, and I regret to this day that Company G missed that 
supper, for it looked fine and nice. Finally our train reached Indianapolis, the capitol 
city of Indiana.
   Thursday, October 1. In Indianapolis we were fed at the soldiers' home by order of 
Governor Morton. The only thing out of the ordinary on this menu was English 
cheese, it being the first we had eaten since we joined the army. We were given a little 
time to walk out and take in the sights which included the capitol building of the great 
State of Indiana.
   The citizens treated us with the greatest kindness. Ladies would go along the train 
and exchange their names and addresses with the bashful boys. This, of course, resulted 
in many letters being written to the boys in blue, when we again got to the front. Many 
other amusing things happened along the way but circumstances prevent telling. The 
railroad stations along our route were crowded with cheering men, women and children. 
These crowds were so close to the moving train that frequently someone would grab 
the hat of some old "Hoosier" and to see the antics of the old man afforded lots of fun 
for the boys.
   The majority of us carried hatchets and as we were packed in the box cars like 
sardines, we needed more ventilation, and this we readily provided by cutting holes in 
the sides and ends of the cars. The more venturesome would crawl out thru these holes 
while the train was speeding along and get on top of the cars, some even sleeping there 
all night. Jack Grant, one of the drafted men who joined Company G while in camp at 
Ellis' Ford, tried to get on top of the car just as we were nearing a station; his hold 
slipped and he fell striking his head on a sill. He was picked up for dead, but finally he 
recovered altho his mind after this was considerably affected and he should never have 
been sent to the front. Poor fellow was killed on the skirmish line several months later.
 
CHAPTER XXXII
   At one station our train stopped and just across the street was a saloon with beer 
kegs on the pavement. We kept eyeing these and after the signal for all to be on board 
was given by the engineer, a charge was made on the beer kegs and they were picked up 
and thrown on the cars while the train was moving away. The saloon keeper, failing to 
recover the captured kegs, was mad, but the boys were happy. Captain Krider, of 
Company F, who scarcely ever surprised his stomach with a drink of cold water, placed, 
as he said, the soberest man he had in his company to guard the beer. Later all of the 
boys were drunk and the captain said the guard got drunk too. The usual end of beer 
drinking resulted in a fight during which Captain Krider and several of his men were 
nearly killed. Company G took in all the fun but took none of the beer. 
   While passing thru Indiana the following members, all of whom were drafted men of 
Company G, deserted on October 1st. Charles Brown, George Brown, Thomas 
Medbeate, Thomas McDonald, William Powell, and William Raburn. None of these 
were ever brought back to the company. 
   Our route thru Indiana finally ended at Jeffersonville on the Ohio River. Here we 
detrained and marched to the steamboat landing, boarded steamers and crossed the 
Ohio River to Louisville, Kentucky. At Jeffersonville the Government had a cracker 
bakery and as we marched by the factory fresh crackers were thrown to us. In this place 
guards were placed on every street in order to prevent straggling. Asa B. Churchill, of 
Company G, was placed on guard with strict orders not to let anyone pass. Captain 
Lavenburg, of Company E, came to where Churchill was on duty and wanted to go 
beyond the line. Churchill called "Halt!" The captain said, "I am going just where I 
want to go," Churchill again called "Halt!" And said, "If you move one step farther I 
will put my bayonet thru you." The captain saw that the guard was determined to obey 
his instructions and finally turned and walked away. Churchill was a good soldier and 
always did his duty faithfully.
   We now again leave friends and home behind, and enter into Kentucky, the enemy's 
country. The citizens of Ohio and Indiana were kind to us and wished us well, but in 
Kentucky not a smile or a kind word was given us. From this day, October 1, 1863, to 
June 6, 1865, Sherman's army performed its duty entirely among enemies and in an 
enemy's country. Orders were issued in Louisville warning the soldiers not to buy any 
pies or cakes, as a number of soldiers only a short time previously had been poisoned. 
A Dutchman of our regiment, nicknamed Butcher, fired off his gun as we marched 
down the principal street of the city, raising quite a commotion. Colonel Pardee placed 
him under arrest. 
   Friday, October 2. We again boarded a train that was in waiting for us, and started 
on our journey thru Kentucky and on to Nashville, the capitol of Tennessee. Today, as 
we passed thru Galliton, we saw colored troops for the first time. Saturday we arrived 
at Nashville and crossed the Cumberland River into the city.
   Sunday evening, October 4. Left Nashville in cattle cars under order to load our guns 
and be in readiness for an anticipated attack from the Rebel cavalry. The train moved 
slowly from Nashville thru Murfreesboro and Christiana, and by daylight Monday 
morning, we arrived at Ruck River railroad bridge, about 60 miles south of Nashville. 
How glad we all were to get into camp again and be able to stretch out full length and 
have a good night's rest. Eight nights we spent on the cars in our cramped condition 
with forty-five in a car.
   Here we encamped and did guard duty along the Chattanooga and Nashville Railroad 
and at the railbridge. While in this camp Sergeant Major F.H. Knight returned to the 
company, having been taken prisoner on May 3, 1863, at Chancellorsville, Va. Here 
ended our long journey to 1192 miles. General Sherman in his memoirs says: "For the 
transfer of large armies by rail, from one theatre of action to another by the rear-the 
cases of the transfer of the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps-General Hooker, 23,000 men-
from Virginia to Chattanooga, in seven days, in the fall of 1863, and that of the army 
of the Ohio-General Schoffield, 15,000 men-from the valley of the Tennessee to 
Washington, 1,400 miles in 11 days; en route to North Carolina in January, 1865, are 
the best examples of which I have any knowledge, and reference to these is made in the 
report to the Secretary of War, Mr. Staunton, dated November 22, 1865.
 
CHAPTER XXXIII
   October 7th, struck tents, marched to Shelbyville, the countyseat of Shelby county. 
Cooked supper and as the Rebels had gone we started back for Duck River. Marched 
only five miles after supper when we encamped, traveled 17 miles. Next day, October 8, 
we returned to our camp at Duck River, marched seven miles.
   A report that Rebel General Wheeler's cavalry and a body of infantry were prowling 
around and might attack us at any moment put Colonel Pardee on the alert. Gen. 
Geary's headquarters were at Murfreesboro, 30 miles in the rear. The Rebels had 
succeeded in destroying quite a lot of railroad between our camp and Murfreesboro, on 
Sunday night, October 5. They had also torn up a considerable stretch of track ahead 
of us. This isolated our regiment and several other regimental commands from the 
balance of our corps. It was cause enough to place our commanding officer on the alert.
   We remained in this pleasant camp at Duck River, doing the regular routine of camp 
duties. This was a fine country and we lived on the best the land afforded. We had 
plenty of mutton, veal, pork, and kids (I mean young goats). While on picket along the 
river we noticed a fine flock of sheep. A member of Company B was determined to have 
mutton for supper for our post. So he started after one, when it jumped into the 
stream with the soldier following across and when the sheep with heavy water-soaked 
wool landed on the other side it could scarcely move and was easily caught, placed upon 
the soldier's shoulder and brought back to our side of the river. The captor received the 
congratulations and cheers of the entire post, for we knew it meant for all of us a 
mutton supper and broiled mutton chops were surely a dainty dish.
   The Colonel frequently would go along the railroad and picket line to see if all was 
right. We had charge of the picket at the railroad bridge, and after his examination he 
instructed us what to do. He then passed along the railroad when he reached the next 
post under command of Sergeant John R. Reigle. Here he found Elias Noll, of 
Company G, without his accoutrements on, and the Colonel ordered him bucked and 
gagged, which was promptly done by the sergeant. Several days after encamping here 
the 4th Tennessee Cavalry (Union) escorted General Geary from Murfreesboro to our 
camp.
   Our troops having arrived from the Army of the Potomac, they were anxious to know 
from us how things were running in the east. We were sitting around the fire of the 
camp reserve post, when the Colonel of this Tennessee regiment with several of his 
men came to converse with us. We, of course, told about our battles and the hard 
fighting that was done at Gettysburg, when the Colonel said to the writer: "You know 
nothing about war". I said "I don't understand, explain yourself". He said, "In this 
country you see families divided, half Rebel half Union. When you take prisoners you 
take them to the rear and take care of them, but when we take prisoners it is death to 
those captured".
   Tuesday, October 20th we broke camp, waded Stone River just below a dam, with 
the water very cold. Shelbyville was a loyal town, and the Rebels had been there and 
destroyed a great deal of property. The court house, which stood in a beautiful square, 
was among the buildings destroyed. The Rebel cavalry took their horses into fine 
stores and fed them from the counters. The citizens told us that the cavalry had gone 
into the stores and took out webs of muslin and calico, tied one end to the horse's tail 
and then rode thru their principal streets, while others followed and trampled the 
fabrics into the mud. So bitter was the feeling against the Unionists in Shelbyville that 
the people lived in fear and dread all the time. We were quartered in one of the county 
buildings on Market square, while some of our cavalry was quartered in store rooms 
just across the square from Company G quarters. On the day after our arrival 
cavalrymen got into a quarrel with a Darkey. It was said that the boys were teasing him 
until he became so angry that he took a carbine, which was hanging on the wall, and 
fired at one of his tormentors, the bullet barely missing. A member of the 5th Ohio 
regiment was just passing a front window and noticed the Darkey about to take aim 
again. He drew his revolver from his pocket, shot thru the window and hit the Negro 
square in the forehead. This caused quite a crowd of citizens and soldiers to gather 
around the place, and Lieutenant Parks fearing a riot, commanded our company to fix 
bayonets and charge across the square. This charge had the desired effect and the crowd 
dispersed. Upon returning to quarters a lady came out of her house and asked us what 
the trouble was. We told her that a Negro had been killed. She remarked, "Well, it 
don't matter much, we have plenty left." At this place the boys visited the nearby hen 
roosts, found no chickens but came back lousy from head to foot.

CHAPTER XXXIV
   Thursday, October 22. We left Shelbyville and returned to our camp at Duck River, 
marched 11 miles. On going to Shelbyville we waded Stone River. Elias Noll took cold 
and his face was very much swollen, and on our return, when we arrived at the river, 
Noll told William Henninger that if he would carry him across he would give him a 
dollar. Henninger agreed to do it, if some of the boys would carry his gun, 
accoutrements and knapsack. They refused to do this, saying, "Du griksht es gelt, du 
maugsht au de arbite du."    Noll was a big fellow and this was fun for the boys, for it 
was about all Henninger could do to carry Noll across. When he landed him on the 
other side Noll said he did not have the dollar. Henninger said, "Won ich des gawist 
het, het ich dich byme dunner farsuffa."  
   Tuesday, October 26th. We received orders on the 23rd to be in readiness to pack 
up and fall in at a minute's notice. We accordingly were held in suspense until about 4 
o'clock on this morning when a train of cars, (no Pullman, but the same old box cars) 
stopped at our camp and we were all on board in a few minutes. Our train ran very 
cautiously, not knowing what moment we might run into the Rebels. We passed a 
number of Southern towns, among them Decherd Station. At this place the boys 
wanted to clean a cavalry sutler, but were prevented from doing it by a strong guard 
from a nearby cavalry regiment, and the intervention of Colonel Pardee.
   We left here at night, and Col. Pardee's car was attached to rear of the train. 
Someone of the regiment uncoupled his car just before the train pulled out and left it 
on the main track. This was not discovered until we had gone a number of miles, when 
we were sidetracked and an engine sent back for the Colonel's car. To say that the 
Colonel was raving mad does not tell half the tale. He tried to find out who did the 
deed but was unable to locate the guilty party. Stevenson, Alabama, was the next stop. 
Hardly had the train come to a standstill until the boys of the regiment spied a sutler 
and in a few minutes his tent was looted of everything he had in the eating line. Arrived 
at Bridgeport, Alabama, on the Tennessee River October 27th.
   Wednesday, October 28th, struck tents early this morning, crossed the river on a 
pontoon bridge, followed the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad; passed Whitesides 
Station and encamped, traveled 16 miles.
   This is a very mountainous country. The lofty peaks of the great Raccoon Mountains 
rise on either side of the gap thru which runs a small creek, and the public road upon 
which we marched. The light was shut out by these high peaks and we could scarcely 
see anything. Someone wished the mountains would slide down into the gap and close 
it up so our marching would come to an end. Finally we came to a small place where 
the 28th, the 147th regiments and a section of Knapp's Battery, all under command of 
Colonel Pardee, encamped. After the hard day's march, the writer, with several of 
Company G boys (JERRE APP is the only one I can now recall) were placed on picket. 
One picket post was placed at either end of camp, the sides being guarded by the great 
high peaks, which at some places almost overhung our camp. Our post was under 
command of Lieutenant Willet, of Company B of the 147th, and were placed on the 
road over which we had just passed a short time before. A house stood quite near the 
road and on the side toward camp was our reserve post, while the outpost was beyond 
the house. 
   The writer had just been out to relieve the man on post, when on coming back I 
heard a noise in the house and reported this to the Lieutenant. He directed me to find 
out who was there. I wrapped at the door and a voice within asked what was wanted, I 
said, "Open the door!" "All right," was the reply. The door was unbolted and a fine 
looking fellow appeared, armed to the teeth. I told him the Lieutenant wished to see 
him. He came with me to the reserve post, where the Lieutenant examined him and 
then commanded me to take him into camp to Colonel Pardee. The only light we now 
had was from camp fires, as the nights were cold and we needed fire. I reported to 
Colonel Pardee and upon examination he showed the Colonel passes from Generals 
Thomas, Rosecrans, Hooker, and in fact nearly all of our leading generals. The Colonel 
said he thought him all Okay, when he said, "Colonel, wait a minute." He pulled up his 
pantleg and from under the lining of his boot he handed over a lot of papers, which 
were passes from General Bragg and nearly all of the other Confederate Generals then 
in that part of the country.
   The Colonel was nonplussed, but said. "I think he is all right." 
   The Colonel called me to his side and said: "You take him back to the reserve post 
and if, during the night, he attempts to get away halt him, and if he doesn't stop, shoot 
him." He went back with me and sat and talked with us all night. He told us he had 
been in the Rebel camp that day and that a battle would be fought and while we were 
talking near midnight, we heard cannonading and heavy infantry firing in the direction 
of Chattanooga. This proved to be the battle of Wauhatchie Valley at the base of 
Lookout Mountain. 

CHAPTER XXXV
   This scout, as he wished to be called and not a spy, as death is the penalty for a spy, 
said he had been suspected of being a spy, was arrested, but made his escape. He was 
captured the second time, was tried, found guilty and ordered to be shot. The night 
before the day set for the execution he got the sympathy of a German guard, who was 
placed over him. He told the guard that he was so nervous that he wished he had a 
bottle of whiskey to quiet his nerves. He also found that the German liked his tea 
pretty well so he gave him money and had him get the whiskey. The guard was asked to 
take the first drink while the spy pretended to drink but never tasted a drop. Soon the 
guard fell asleep and the spy escaped. 
  He said he knew the country well and struck out for a swamp which was close at hand, 
waded in about waist deep and found a tree which had blown over and on account of 
the limbs the trunk of the tree was only a few inches above water. Behind this was his 
hiding place. The tree was about midway in the swamp and between him and the 
Confederate camp, so he pulled a few brushes around his head and then laid down with 
only his head out of water. Blood hounds were put on his trail and they followed until 
they reached the water's edge, then lost it. The Rebels were around the swamp all day 
but by evening gave up the chase, and some time during the night he quietly left his 
hiding place    and made good his escape into our lines. He said that was the greatest 
trial of his life.
   While we were hearing this man's experience our picket (I think this was JERE APP) 
yelled out "Halt!" The answer came quick: "For God's sake don't stop me, I have an 
important message  for General Hooker." This courier passed the reserve post, on thru 
camp and out at the other end of camp, saying the same thing to each guard. Who he 
was or where he came from no one ever knew. He rode a white horse and traveled as 
fast as anyone could travel in that dark night. 
   Thursday, October 29, early in the morning, we broke camp, marched to Wauhatchie 
Valley at the foot of Lookout Mountain, halted in the woods on the battlefield of the 
previous night,   while the Rebels shelled us from the summit of the mountain. During 
the night of the 28th, Longstreet's Corps descended the mountain and attacked the 
2nd and 3rd brigades of Geary's White Star division of the 12th corps about 11 
o'clock. The fighting lasted about two hours and a half, when Longstreet retreated. 
taking his wounded with him, but leaving his dead on the field. This was a hard fought 
battle, but the victory was ours. Captain Geary, who commanded Knapp's Battery, and 
was the son of General Geary, was killed in this engagement. Many men and horses 
were killed and my recollection is that the battery alone had thirty-two horses killed. 
We could see plainly the Rebel signal corps signaling from the top of Lookout and 
could also see the artillery loading and firing their cannon. Isaac Reed had never
been in a battle and when he saw them loading their pieces he said, "Now wut ich se 
data amole un shell do river sheesa."    Hardly had he said this when a shell came 
whizzing into our camp and exploded quite near us, when Reed said, "Now will ich 
ovver bym dunner kenny mae hara."  
   Friday, October 30. During the night we put up a line of breastworks on the 
battleground.
   Saturday, October 31. We continued working hard, strengthening our earthworks. 
The place occupied by us was low and swampy. A heavy rain set in and soon we were 
drenched to the skin. Blankets, tents, and everything we had was soaking wet. The 
whole camp was under water. The dead were lying in the trenches, filled with water. 
This camp was indeed a watery grave for many of the boys in blue. Our division was 
moved a short distance to the rear on a ridge, just beyond the reach of the Rebel 
artillery. Here fires were built, our clothes dried, details made to bury the dead and a 
new line of earthworks erected.
   While in this camp Ed Fisher and Elias Miller, who were taken prisoners at the battle 
of Chancellorsville on May 3, returned to the company. We were all glad to see them 
again and have them with us. William McFall and Michael Schaffer, who were also 
taken prisoners at the above battle, never returned as they had been disabled and were 
attached to the Veteran Reserve Corps.
   The supply wagon train had to go quite near our camp on their way to the steamboat 
landing on the Tennessee River, about three miles from our camp. These wagons 
hauled supplies for the troops in and around Chattanooga. The only way supplies were 
brought was by one small steamboat, which made its trips from Bridgeport, Alabama, 
22 miles down the river. At some places the river was very narrow, with high mountains 
on both sides. Here Bushwhackers gathered and shot off the crews of the boat, until 
the trips had to be abandoned. Stevenson, Alabama, was forty-five miles away and a 
large train of pack mules was sent over the mountain for crackers. Each mule carried 
two boxes of fifty pounds each. This was a very slow way of getting supplies, and quite 
an inadequate one to feed an army numbering perhaps 70,000 men.
 
CHAPTER XXXVI
   The Rebels would shell our wagons from Lookout Mountain whenever they could see 
them. One evening the members of Company B, of our regiment, held up a teamster 
and rolled a barrel of sugar off his wagon. They took it to camp and there gave a quart 
or more of sugar for one cracker or one ear of corn. This camp was christened Camp 
Starvation. The writer was never as hungry before or since as he was in this camp. J.P. 
Ulrich and his messmates gathered acorns, and after boiling them several times in 
clean, fresh water, tried to eat them. But they drew the mouth together as if we were 
taking our first lesson in a whistling class. He then fried them in fat but no go with 
any of us except Jim, who ate the entire contents of the pan, and so far as the writer 
was concerned he was quite welcome to the dish. 
   While stationed here corduroy roads were made thru the gap in the mountains to the 
steamboat landing about three miles below us. Jack Grant, of Company G, while 
cutting down a tree made a miss with his axe and nearly cut his foot off. He was sent 
to the Regimental Hospital. 
   Sunday, November 1. Today we had company inspection, also worked on our 
breastworks.
   Monday, November 2, still at work on our breastworks and Rebels continue to shell 
our wagon train.
   This camp was sure enough just what the boys had christened it, Camp Starvation. 
Men were reduced to mere skeletons and horses, and mules could scarcely walk or even 
pull an empty wagon. Both Yankee and Confederate armies had encamped in and about 
Chattanooga for months and the country afforded nothing for man or beast. We had 
money but that did not help us any for there was nothing to buy. A small potato patch 
close by camp was dug around by SOLLY and JERRE APP a number of times to get 
even a few roots if possible.
   Freddie Ulrich and the writer while out hunting for something to eat one day 
happened to get where some cavalry horses had been picketed and fed, and there to our 
joy we found about a pint of corn which the horses had dropped while eating. We 
picked it up grain by grain, out of the mud and dirt, took it to camp, washed and 
boiled it and were very thankful for it. When we were picking up the corn Freddie said 
that at home, when their pigs were fed, corn was shoveled into the pen with a scoop 
shovel, and as this was about the time of fattening the porkers, Freddie exclaimed: "Oh 
! Won ich usht dahame ware im olda Yoney (this was his father's name) si si stahl ware 
dot kend ich welshcon ganunk grega."    We have laughed about this many a time, but 
I am sure at the time every member of Company G would gladly have exchanged their 
places to one in a pig sty filled with corn.
   It was said that in a certain mess of four all they had to eat was three crackers. When 
they were ready for their meal. one was asked to say grace. He said: "Three crackers for 
four of us, thank the Lord there are no more of us."
   In this camp our camp and picket duty was very heavy. Every morning when day 
would break upon us we could see old Lookout Mountain, just a short distance away, 
with the Rebel signal corps on its summit, the Confederates around their artillery, and 
the Rebel flag defiantly floating in the air. To us this was not very encouraging. We 
would often sit upon our breastworks and bring out all the military that was in us, 
discussing the probability of storming that almost in accessible mountain which is 
almost 2300 feet above the Tennessee River. After holding these councils of war in 
Company G, it was always decided it could not be done. Just a few days before the 
battle above the clouds it was said that Jeff Davis was on Lookout's top to view the 
Yankees in every nook and corner on the Northern side in Chattanooga. Lookout 
Mountain stands in Tennessee and from its lofty heights you can see the States of 
Georgia, Alabama, Kentucky, Virginia, North and South Carolina. We remained in this 
camp until Sunday, November 22, when the Regiment was taken along Lookout Creek 
towards   Chattanooga, to relieve a regiment of the 11th corps. It was placed upon a 
ridge about 500 yards north of the creek.
   Between the creek and our regimental position was a nice level corn field. The corn 
had been cut and standing on shock. The creek, about 75 feet wide, was the dividing 
line between the Blue and the Gray. The Rebels had three pickets to our two, and about 
200 feet back of the Rebel pickets or skirmishers was a railroad
which, in case of emergency, gave them good protection, while in the rear of our lines 
was no protection but corn shocks. The writer was here sent out on the skirmish line, 
even tho it was not his turn to go, as non-commissioned officers always took their 
details in rotation, except in emergencies. However, with a little salt we took our dose, 
altho unfair to be compelled to take someone else's place without a good excuse. We 
arrived at the creek with the skirmishers composed of Company G boys, whose names I 
am unable to give. Ed R. Smith is the only one I can recall.

CHAPTER XXXVII
   The first thing we did upon taking our position was to arrange with the Rebels that 
neither side would shoot, as it was impossible to settle the war at that particular time 
and place. The agreement was faithfully kept as long, at least, as we were there. We 
became very friendly, passed many jokes between us and to have seen or heard us talk 
no one would for a moment have imagined that we were enemies. Among other 
incidents a trade was proposed. The Rebels were short of knives and our boys short of 
tobacco, so the Confederate said he would give a piece of tobacco (holding it up) for a 
knife. All right said the Yankee, and I will throw the knife over to you and you can then 
throw the tobacco over to me. All right, said the Yankee and as he threw the knife it 
struck a limb of a tree overhanging the creek and dropped into the water, and as the 
creek was deep, of course, it could not be found. The Johnnie said now I have you, you 
have no knife but I have my tobacco. But said he, a trade is a trade and I am going to 
live up to my part of it. Here goes the plug and I am going to be very careful that it 
does not strike a limb. He threw it over, and this incident was one of many that 
produced general good feeling on both sides. A few days later these same men were 
exchanging shots at the battle of Lookout Mountain. During the night one of the 
Rebel pickets called a number of times for the Corporal of the guard and next morning 
a second lieutenant in charge of the line came along, when Ed R. Smith, of Company 
G, saluted him (he returned the salute) hallooed across the creek and said: "Lieutenant, 
your Corporal on duty last night had a hard time of it. Can't you use your influence to 
get him to resign." We all had a hearty laugh in which the Lieutenant joined, as he 
walked quietly away.
   Being relieved from picket, we joined our regiment and soon were on the move. 
Everything now indicated a forward movement, but we were in the dark as to where or 
when the army would move. Rumor had it that Hooker's Corps was to storm Lookout 
Mountain, and as we belonged to Hooker's Corps, we knew full well that it would fall 
to our lot, as the balance of the Twelfth Corps was back guarding the railroad, to form 
with the attacking party. We were in full view of the Rebels on the mountain, and we 
also knew that if we attempted to storm old Lookout it would require the hardest kind 
of work.
 
BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN
Tuesday, November 24, 1863
   We were ready early for the fray. We moved about over hills, thru ravines, marched in 
one direction then counter-marched until at last we quietly moved along Lookout 
Creek at the base of the mountain to a dam where a bridge was laid for our crossing, 
Before reaching the place of crossing, orders were given to unsling knapsacks. Nothing 
should be carried save our guns and accoutrements with from 60 to 80 rounds of 
ammunition, canteen and haversack, the latter at this time being extraordinarily light. 
Guards were to watch our knapsacks, and others to do guard duty along the mountain 
and thru the valley. A goodly number of Company G boys were on this detail. It was 
proposed that we carry the mountain in a short but decisive battle and arrangements 
were made accordingly. Only a small number of the company participated in the battles 
of Lookout Mountain, Pea Vine Ridge, Missionary Ridge, and Ringgold. All being in 
readiness, the order to advance was given, while the Rebel skirmishers never dreamed 
that we would attack their position so far back from the point of the mountain. 
Artillery was put in action, troops marching hither and thither, attracting the attention 
of the Rebels down in the valley towards Chattanooga, while the White Star Division 
of Hooker's Corps was coming in on their flank as fast as it was possible for it to do 
so. Our men were compelled to climb over rocks, fallen trees, scramble over gullies and 
the roughest kind of places. In climbing over these rocks Colonel Candy, our brigade 
commander, fell and dislocated his hip. Then Colonel Creighton, of the 7th Ohio 
Regiment, assumed command of the brigade. Forward was the order of the day and in 
due time we sprung on a Rebel camp on the side of the mountain striking it in the rear, 
and entirely surprised them in the act of getting their supper. They dropped all and ran 
only to be captured a few moments later. A few of the prisoners asked permission to let 
them get their coffee, still on the fire, which the guards granted. Two pieces of artillery 
were also captured. As our Division rounded the mountain nearly the entire army of 
General Grant lay within three miles of us, down in the beautiful valley just outside of 
Chattanooga. They sent up a wonderful cheer, to which we on the mountain side 
responded just as heartily. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII
   Those who saw this charge from the valley below pronounced it the greatest and 
most wonderful scene of any during the Civil War. General Ousterhaus' division of the 
15th Corps, and General Geary's White Star Division, of the 12th Corps, captured 
Lookout Mountain, the artillery assisting. We moved slowly around the point of the 
mountain. Firing became more fierce with the Rebels falling back until night came on 
and with it a cold, light rain. We finally took possession for the night, hanging to the 
steep side of the mountain and scarcely able to keep from rolling down.     The writer 
being near the captain said to him that he smelled a dead man. He said, "You must have 
a good smeller." I told him I smelled his blood, and sure enough when morning came 
here lay a dead Rebel very near us in the bushes. A Rebel was wounded near their camp 
and lay across the road but was unable to crawl away. As our boys would step over him 
he called piteously to them to help him get away. But as we were driving the Rebels 
none took the time, and no doubt many a one tramped on him or gave him a kick. Such 
is cruel war.
   The Rebels would roll great rocks down on the soldiers, and many were wounded in 
this way. As we were getting into line at night a light from a fire up the hill shone just 
in front of the captain and the writer. The captain said I should dress up into line 
better. I saw before me a man, laying, with a blanket over him, and thinking the captain 
would tramp on him I said: "Captain, be careful there is a dead man before you." When 
I said dead man the fellow jumped up and throwing up his hands threw the wet blanket 
with which he had covered himself over me and yelled at the top of his voice: "No. I am 
not dead." If I ever was near being scared to death it was at this time. I scratched and 
pulled and did everything I could to remove the blanket, and my legs trembled as never 
before. The soldier explained that he was a member of the 5th Ohio regiment. of our 
brigade, and that he gave out coming up the mountain and lay down to rest awhile, 
when he fell asleep and knew nothing of the world until he heard me say dead man. He 
seemed to be as much unstrung as the captain and the writer. 
   The night spent on Lookout Mountain, clinging to its rocky side in a cold, drizzling 
November rain without any shelter tents, blankets, or gum blankets-no shelter 
whatever-will never be forgotten by those who were participants in that great battle. 
This was the famous Battle Above the Clouds. Besides heavy losses in killed and 
wounded on the part of the enemy, one thousand nine hundred and forty prisoners 
were captured, two pieces of artillery, nine battle flags, forty thousand rations, two 
thousand stand of small arms and camp equipage sufficient for two divisions. 
   While marching up Lookout and changing positions owing to the nature of the 
ground we moved along beyond the point with the regiment left in front. The Colonel 
gave the command to countermarch. We were then on a road leading around the 
mountain, and as we were executing this command the Regiment was just doubled up 
as a volley from the Rebels compelled us to drop down over the embankment along the 
road. The adjutant of the regiment, Samuel Magee, thinking it meant a route, drew his 
sabre and struck Jere Hathaway across the back-cried halt! that he did not want us to 
run. Ed Fisher, who was close to the adjutant, said: "Who the Devil intends to run? 
You tell us what to do and we are here to do it." The order from the Colonel to front 
face and dress up was speedily done. We advanced to the road. When the command 
forward was given, the 147th again showed the quality of the men and officers 
composing the regiment, for many a regiment would have been unable to rally its men 
under similar conditions.     Around the mountain is a perpendicular ledge of rocks, at 
one place 400 feet high, called sunset rock. The Rebel artillery on the mountain top 
was useless so far as doing us any damage was concerned, because they were unable to 
depress their pieces. The Rebel sharpshooters would come out to the edge of the rocks 
and tried to pick off our officers. Corporal Nathan Wagner, of Company F fired 
several shots at one of these fellows, until at last he hit him, and the sharpshooter fell 
headlong into the crevices of the rocks and this place no doubt became his last resting 
place. 
   Near the point of the mountain the Rebels had made steps and a ladder to get up 
and down during the time they occupied the heights, These same steps and ladder were 
used by our boys to carry up the flag on the night following the battle.
 
CHAPTER XXXIX
Battle of Missionary Ridge
Wednesday November 25
   On the morning after the battle, a mist covered the mountain and, as it cleared away, 
the top of Lookout could be seen by the troops down in the valley and in Chattanooga, 
whilst we, within a few hundred feet of the top, were still in the clouds of mist. During 
the night some of the boys crawled up to the top and thereon planted that grand old 
flag, the Stars and Stripes, which replaced the Confederate flag that had floated there 
so defiantly for a number of months. 
   The Rebel troops withdrew during the night by a road about 6 miles back from the 
peak of the mountain, and had gone across the valley to Missionary Ridge about three 
and a half miles away. Soon the clouds arose from the mountain and then we too saw 
Old Glory floating so proudly upon the mountain height. Then again cheering broke 
forth, echoing and reechoing all along the mountain side, thru its ravines and in the 
valley below us.
   We were on the right flank of our army and on the left flank of the Confederate 
army, and were thus in a position to see almost the entire length of both lines of battle. 
It was cold at night and the fires made a sight never to be forgotten. Lookout 
Mountain was the key to the position of the Rebel army in the southwest, and let it be 
remembered that the authorities at Washington considered it a very important point.
   Notice for one moment the great generals who participated in this battle, and those 
battles which immediately followed. Grant at the head of the list: (General Grant 
accompanied our White Star division as far as Ringold, Ga.) Sherman, Hooker, 
Rosencrans, Thomas, McPherson, Chief of Artillery, General Hunt, Schoffield, 
Granger, Kilpatrick, Sheridan, the McCooks, and a host of others, any one of whom 
could have commanded this vast army in case of necessity.
   From our position we could see the Yankee boys far away in the valley around 
Chattanooga, march hither and thither in battle array. The Rebels having established 
their line from Rossville Gap on their left to the Tennessee River, on their right along 
Missionary Ridge. We lay on the mountain side for several hours, thinking that 
perhaps our work was done, but not so. At about 10 AM we were ordered to fall in, 
when we slowly descended old Lookout, and the march across the valley to Rossville 
Gap was commenced.
   General Grant's headquarters was at Orchard Knob, while Sherman's forces were near 
the Tennessee River and the railroad tunnel. Hooker, with Geary's White Star 
Division, was advanced to Rossville Gap, where we arrived about 3:30 o'clock, when the 
battle opened in all its fury along the entire line.
   Slowly the enemy was being driven in our front. While halting for a few moments a 
battery of artillery could be seen just a short distance in our rear, but hidden from the 
view of the Rebels by a clump of trees. When the captain of the battery and his bugler 
rode up to where we were, the bugle call was given for the battery to advance and in 
almost less time than I can tell it the spurs were put into the flanks of the horses and 
on they came at full gallop and close by our company halted, unlimbered their pieces 
and opened fire upon the retreating and much surprised foe.
   We cheered lustily and advanced rapidly until Walthal's brigade of Confederates was 
compelled to surrender. Just then General Hooker (always in front in battle) rode 
among us and we cheered for old fighting Joe. The Johnnies felt as tho they wanted a 
part in the fun also and took off their hats and cheered for Hooker. This was another 
great day for the Yankees. 
   Missionary Ridge was in our possession by sundown, along with many prisoners, 
artillery and other munitions of war. On our way from Lookout Mountain to the 
Ridge we passed Major Breckenridge (the son of former Vice President Breckenridge) 
who had just been captured. He looked very saucy and was well dressed, with high 
legged fancy boots and was a fine appearing fellow. When we passed the boys twitted 
him and someone said "Wouldn't I like to go for that fellow's boots?" "Hello, Johnnie 
Reb." etc. But our officers soon stopped this annoyance. A signal station was placed 
just in the rear of our line from which place they kept signalling to Lookout Mountain 
and from there along our line of battle. And now comes the strange part. While on the 
mountain the previous night we so much admired the bright fires of the two great 
armies but we never thought that the next night we would occupy the enemy's quarters 
along the ridge! Sleep where they had slept the night before and, as we carried no 
blankets with us, we were so glad for their quarters, as they sheltered us from the cold. 
Their tents were made by splitting boards. Shingles were used for the roof and here 
with plenty of fire we spent a pretty comfortable night.
 
CHAPTER XXXX
Battle of Pea-Vine Ridge
Thursday, November 26
   We left camp early in the morning, the rebels were retreating and we followed them 
closely over rough and muddy roads where they were compelled to abandon cannon, 
caissons, army wagons, and a goodly number of prisoners were taken. The enemy made 
another stand at Pea-Vine Ridge, where we arrived some time after dark  and saw their 
camp fires plainly.
   The evening was cold. A small stable near the road was set on fire and, as many as 
could, gathered around to warm up our chilly bones. While standing around this fire 
General Hooker and staff rode up. When the General told us we had better get away 
from there as the Johnnies might open on us with artillery. Before we left General 
Hooker said: "Boys, do you see that large fire over on the ridge? Well, that place is 
going to be my headquarters tonight."  An advance was set at once ordered all along the 
line. Pea-Vine Creek at the base of the ridge was crossed and the foe was driven off and 
Hooker's headquarters were that night on the ridge at the very place he said they would 
be.
 
Battle of Ringgold, Georgia
Friday, November 27 
   Broke camp, still following up the retreating foe until Ringgold was reached. Here 
the Rebels made another stand, on Taylor's Ridge, near the town. General Ousterhaus, 
along with the 4th corps, attacked the enemy on our right in the gap thru Taylor's 
Ridge. General Greene's 3rd brigade of Geary's division, joining Ousterhaus on his 
left. Only a part of the second brigade of our division was present. The balance were 
back guarding our camp. The First Brigade on the left of the line of battle, and the 
147th Regiment (my own) was on the extreme left of the line.
   The Rebels had advantage of position. We formed partly in town and partly on the 
outskirts. The command was given and the line moved forward in fine style, passing 
first over the railroad, then up thru a cleared field, then over a fence into the woods. It 
was a steep place to make a charge, and we knew it was uphill business for us. Pat 
Cleyburne with his Irish brigade confronted us. They were armed with the Mississippi 
rifles and they opened fire on us as soon as they saw us advancing.
   We marched in line of battle about half way up in the woods when the command was 
given by the left flank. Captain Davis, who was beside the writer now, left my side to 
take his place at the left of the Company. Hardly had he gone, when he was mortally 
wounded and carried off the field by James P. Ulrich and others, whom I have 
forgotten. Lieutenant B. T. Parks, who then became commander of the company, was in 
the act of passing the writer to the left of the company, when a bullet struck him in the 
back of the neck, going entirely thru. I stopped and looked at him but as he never 
moved a muscle I thought he was dead and passed on. Later Ed Fisher and William E. 
Fausnaucht found him alive and kicking and carried him off the field. After arriving at 
the hospital Parks made the boys prop him up and light his pipe for him. Then he 
made Fisher go after his sword, which he had lost on the battlefield.
   On left movement we stopped behind a ledge of rocks, when an orderly of General 
Geary's came up and told Colonel Pardee to advance the 147th to the top of the hill, 
take it and hold it at all hazards. The Colonel, seeing all the troops on our right being 
driven back and a line of Rebels coming down the hill on our left for the purpose of 
out-flanking us, commanded: "Attention, Battalion! About face, double quick, March!" 
It took only a very short time to reach the fence at the edge of the woods, when the 
command, Halt! was given and about face. Any soldier who saw service knows just what 
an effort it takes to obey a command of this kind under a galling fire from the enemy.
   On coming down the hill Jerry Moyer fell headlong on his stomach and someone said 
there goes poor Jerry. But Jerry was not shot, but his foot had caught in some briars 
and tripped him. Jerry speedily jumped to his feet, saying something very emphatic in 
Dutch, which need not be mentioned here. We were all glad he was not hurt. Isaac 
Napp was also wounded, being shot thru his side and coming out at his back. At this 
writing, 1912, he is still living, but his right hand and arm are crippled for life. No 
doubt Generals Grant and Sherman, thinking this move to Ringgold a very important 
one, accompanied the White Star  Division, Howards troops and others, until the 
battle had been fought, when Grant returned to Chattanooga.
 
CHAPTER XXXXI 
   When Colonel Candy dislocated his hip at Lookout Mountain, Colonel Creighton, 
of the 7th Ohio, succeeded him as our brigade commander. He was a brave and fine 
officer, only, strong drink at times got the better of him. His regiment was called the 
rooster regiment. They all wore a silver badge of a rooster on their coat lapels, and 
whenever they went into a fight the Colonel would flap his arms and crow like a rooster 
and the boys would also crow. At Ringgold the Colonel had just purchased an elegant 
military uniform and he looked fine. While leading our brigade into action he was near 
his old regiment when the Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel Crane both got up on a 
rock, flapped their arms and crowed. The forward command was given and in the 
charge Colonel Creighton, our brigade commander, Lieutenant Colonel Crane, and all 
the commissioned officers of the 7th Ohio were killed or wounded, with the exception 
of one old Dutch Captain. The writer after the battle when the 7th Ohio and our 
regiment stacked their arms in the streets of Ringgold counted the number of guns on 
stack in the 7th regiment and found them to be only 33 guns. As I said above, only one 
commissioned officer out of the entire regiment remained. Every soldier who 
participated in the fight felt sad at the loss of so many precious lives. 
   Company G felt sorely the loss they had sustained. Many a tear was this day shed for 
those who were killed and wounded, and for the families who were far away and unable 
to give a parting kiss or even a drink of cold water to the loved ones who fell in this 
battle. Finally after the enemy was driven off the hill, our artillery came up, they having 
been stuck in the mud and unable to get there any sooner. The troops were again put 
into motion and with the aid of the cannon the hill was soon in our possession and the 
Rebels on the retreat towards Dalton, some seven or eight miles away.
   Details were now made to care for the wounded. U. P. Hafley, Ed Fisher, D. W. 
Gross and J. A. Lumbard were detailed from Company G. All the ambulances were 
filled and sent to Chattanooga, 22 miles away. The balance of the wounded were 
packed in box cars, and by ropes and pushing by hand were taken about eight miles 
when they came to Chickamauga Creek, where they found the bridge burned. The 
wounded were taken out of the cars, and, while a temporary bridge was built across the 
creek, arrangements were made for the wounded men in houses for the night, as it was 
getting dark. Eleven died that night.
   When ambulances arrived next morning from Chattanooga, the remainder were taken 
to the hospital. Captain Davis died in Ringgold, GA, November 28th, about two A. M. 
His body was sent home for burial, in care of Orderly Sergeant F. M. Stuck, and it lies 
in Trinity Lutheran cemetery in sight of his once happy home, in Selinsgrove.
   Our regiment was placed on picket on the ridge, which had been occupied by the 
enemy the night before. A snow had fallen and the earth was covered with a white 
mantel. Weather was very cold and without blankets or shelter of any kind, we suffered 
much.   During the night one of the guards called for the corporal of the guard. The 
writer, acting in that capacity responded and challenged one outside the line. He said 
he was a friend, but coming from the direction of the Confederate camp, we were not 
so sure about him being a friend. We prepared ourselves for any emergency and told 
him to advance, cautioning him that only one would be allowed to come at a time. On 
came the fellow but when close enough I asked him his name. 
   He said it was Sam. I knew then it was a colored man and admitted him. "Who is 
that with you," I asked. He said "Jim, dat's all," when he too was admitted. Sam said 
they had been slaves and that they had served their master during the war thus far but 
had tired of it, ran away and come into our lines. I took them to the Colonel's 
headquarters, and what disposition he made of them I cannot tell.
   When Lieutenant Parks was shot thru the neck, we were advancing along the side hill, 
and being smaller than the writer, and further down the hill, yet close to me, he was hit 
in the neck by the ball, which could not have been more than three inches from my 
head. No doubt had it hit me it would have gone clear thru me. The Lieutenant always 
said that he believed the Johnnie aimed at me and hit him, and I used to tell him I did 
not care. I had another narrow escape, when coming off the ridge and in the open field 
a bullet struck the ground only an inch or two from my left foot, on which was a No. 
10 army shoe, This was a good mark as it covered quite a patch of real estate. The next 
step with the same foot another bullet struck, while the third step a similar occurrence, 
I felt that the fellow was determined to cripple me in the foot and after the third bullet 
struck the ground I made a flank movement by turning the toes of my left foot in as 
far as I could and fortunately got thru safe.
 
CHAPTER XXXXII
   Some of the boys when commanded to halt at the fence in coming from the hill, kept 
on going thru the open field and never did stop until they were safe behind the railroad 
in town. Later on we twitted them about it, when Elias Noll said that he would have 
gone farther if his wind had not given out. An Irishman of Company B, when teased 
about his running said, "be Jabers, I have made up my mind that if the Rebels ever 
shoot me they have got to do it at long range."
   This campaign, beginning at Lookout Mountain, Tenn., and ending at Ringgold, Ga., 
was a short but decisive one. We marched 22 miles and fought four battles in four 
days, with scarcely enough provisions to keep us alive. We suffered much from the 
cold, not having any shelter or cover of any kind during the nights spent in the rain 
and snow. 
   At Ringgold we had fresh beef issued to us, and the fat on it was mighty scarce. A 
number of us managed to snipe a good sized ham out of a nearby smoke house, which 
was fine eating and put us in fine trim to march back to our old camp. 
   Tuesday, November 29, early in the morning, we left Ringgold. A detail was made 
from the company, of which the writer was one, to remain until the troops had all 
crossed over a good sized wooden bridge, which spanned the creek near the town, and 
then to set fire to the bridge. This we did, and we often wondered that the citizens did 
not shoot us from the town while doing this work. On our way back to our old camp, 
we marched around what is called the Lookout Mountain road to Wauhatchie Valley. 
Here we met the boys of Company G who had been detailed to remain and guard the 
camp until our return, and we were glad to see each other again, marched 22 miles. 
   George Noaker, who was back in the hospital at Chattanooga, had gotten well 
enough to be about again and was selling papers in the town, when someone of the 
company met him and gave him the news of the campaign, also the death of the 
Captain and the wounding of Lieutenant Parks and Isaac Knapp. Listening until the 
story was completed, Noaker said, "Is dat so?" then called out "Here you are for the 
Chattanooga Gazette." 
   Wednesday, November 30. This morning finds us back again in our old camp, 
Starvation, in Wauhatchie Valley. Things have changed wonderfully in six days. The 
Rebels had all been driven out of this part of the country, and none within 25 miles of 
us, and the Confederate flag supplanted by the old Star Spangled Banner, which now 
floated over Lookout Mountain's lofty peak and which remained there until the close 
of the war.
   The cracker line from Bridgeport, Alabama, 22 miles below Chattanooga, had now 
been opened. We were busy fixing up camp, and trying to get something to eat. Mails 
were received from home again, and how glad we were to hear from loved ones far away. 
Both armies had been back and forth thru this country for many months and 
everything in shape of food had been gathered so that nothing was left for man or 
beast. Only one small steamboat ran from Kelly's Ferry, about two miles below our 
camp, to Bridgeport. This was not adequate to furnish rations for the soldiers and 
forage for the horses and mules. We never saw horses and mules in worse condition 
than they were in this camp. The matter of feeding this vast army, bivouacked in and 
around Chattanooga, was a great problem.
   The armies of Sherman, Thomas, and Hooker were here concentrated, over 100,000 
men. Company G never knew what it was to be hungry until we reached Camp 
Starvation. Guards were placed to prevent the boys from taking what little the mules 
were given. Mouldy crackers were thrown into their troughs, and the soldiers would 
pick out the little broken pieces that were not mouldy and eat them with relish, when 
the guards were not watching too closely.
   After the death of Captain Davis and the wounding of Lieutenant Parks, Lieutenant 
William M. Willet, of Company B took charge of Company G. He was a good 
commander and a very genial fellow. The boys all liked him.
 
CHAPTER XXXXIII
   The campaign just closed was entirely successful. In the official report of the recent 
battles, General Hooker says: "It has never been my fortune to serve with more devoted 
troops."
   On the 29th General Grant, declaring that he wished to see the troops that fought 
the battle of Lookout Mountain, reviewed General Geary's White Star Division in 
Wauhatchie Valley, where it was then encamped. He was accompanied by his staff and 
all the generals of the combined armies of the Cumberland and Tennessee. No troops 
could have been more highly complimented than were those of the White Star Division 
on this occasion.
   On December 9 we were visited by a committee, Dr. King, Surgeon General, Dr. 
Kennedy and Mr. Francis. They were sent by Governor Curtin of the great State of 
Pennsylvania to express the thanks and gratitude of the people of Pennsylvania to the 
Keystone boys, who participated in the battles which ended in such brilliant victories, 
and also to look after the welfare of her soldiers. We remember well, when the above 
commission visited the camp of the 147th Regiment, speeches were made by all of 
them, and responded to by General Geary. We recall the speech of one, who said that if 
General Geary's life should be spared until the war had closed that he would be called 
upon to conduct the civil affairs of Pennsylvania. This was verified by being twice 
elected Governor of the State.
   The proposition of the General Government for Veteran Volunteers was published 
early in December. On December 16, the 29th Pennsylvania Volunteer Regiment, of 
our Second Brigade was the first regiment in the service of the United States to 
re-enlist as veterans, having served two full years. Two hundred and ninety reenlisted as 
veterans. A number who had not served the two years were rejected. The Government 
agreed a few days later to let these veteranize providing they would agree to serve their 
full two years and then re-enlist for three more years. It required a two years service to 
become a veteran. Here was a chance for Company G, a 90 day furlough and a $400 
bounty, and all the good square meals in the next 90 days. The roll showed 57 present 
in Company G, not having served two years. We agreed to serve the balance of two 
years, and then re-enlist for three more years. All did so with the exception of William 
E. Fausnaucht, who positively refused to reenlist. The company was sworn to the above 
agreement, but in a very short time it was rejected by the Government, and our hopes 
of getting out of "Camp Starvation" and of having a good time and plenty to eat at 
home were frustrated.   Those who would not go, were to be transferred to the 11th 
Corps, which was composed of German troops. Fausnaucht, who could not speak 
German, was told that he had better book himself so that he would, at least, be able to 
ask for his rations. The boys told him to say to the German Commissary, "Ich will 
ouch mina rotzeona hauben."    We had quite a good deal of fun with Fausnaucht 
about joining the Dutch.
   On December 28, for the second time in our service, we witnessed the drumming of 
disgraced soldiers out of camp. This time the culprit was Silas C. Camp, of Company 
E, 111th Pennsylvania Regiment. He was arrested and found guilty by general court 
martial of cowardice and robbing the dead at the battle of Lookout Mountain. He was 
sentenced to have his head shaved, all the military buttons cut from his clothing, and 
drummed out of camp to the tune of The Rogue's March. The division was drawn up 
in line, when boards were hung about the culprit's neck with Robbing the Dead on one 
and Cowardice on the other, printed in large letters. His hands were tied behind his 
back; a guard placed in the rear with fixed bayonets to hurry him along and the drum 
corps in the lead. This weird march began at the right of the division and passed along 
the entire front to the left. Every regiment passed, hooted, hissed, and pelled until the 
picket line was reached, where he was hurried thru and left go. He was a rascal and 
deserved all he got.
   In the evening after roll call, the boys would sneak down to Kelly's Ferry, about two 
miles below camp, where the crackers, unloaded from the little steamboat, were piled 
up. Guards were placed about these crackers with orders to shoot any one who 
attempted to steal. Many risked their lives for the sake of getting a few crackers to eat.
   The dark, corduroyed road to the ferry led thru a gap in the Raccoon Mountains. 
Here almost any hour the boys could be found, going back and forth seeking for 
something to eat and many so weak as to be scarcely able to walk. We did not consider 
this stealing, for Uncle Sam had hired us for $13 per month and board, and as we and 
the crackers belonged to the same firm we considered it all right to take what we could 
get. We were also in need of clothing, as the weather was very cold and disagreeable and 
we had barely enough to keep us warm. On New Year's night, 1864, as the New Year 
was being ushered in a great storm arose and the cold winds blew. Trees were felled and 
many tents torn that they were almost worthless but fortunately no one was hurt.
 
CHAPTER XXXXIV
   On Monday, January 4, the bugles at headquarters sounded early and our old division 
was again on the march and left "Camp Starvation", never again to return to it. We 
moved about one mile in the direction of the ferry when we ascended the Raccoon 
Mountain. However, before going up the mountain, crackers were issued to us, and the 
writer ate 14 (10 were considered a day's ration) and had room for more. When we 
first began to eat we imagined we could hear them drop. As we neared Whitesides 
Station on the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, a heavy rain set in and towards 
evening we turned into the woods and spent a most miserable night, as we were unable 
to build fires to boil a cup of coffee and had scarcely a dry stitch on our backs. 
Traveled nine miles over rough mountain roads.
   Tuesday, January 5. The rain had ceased and we made fires early to dry our clothing 
and have a few crackers and a cup of coffee. How we did relish the crackers and coffee 
as we had been strangers for many a long day and dreary night in "Camp Starvation". 
About 10 o'clock A. M., we were on the move. Some time in the afternoon we came 
within sight of the Tennessee River and the pontoon bridge, over which we had crossed 
October 28 on our way to Lookout Mountain. Soon we were crossing the river and 
marched only a short distance along the railroad, where later on our camp was located. 
Marched 16 miles. A light snow had fallen before we reached here but lasted only a very 
short time.
   Sixteen mules in our brigade wagon train died on this march from "Camp 
Starvation," virtually starved to death. Daniel Ehrhart was detailed as wagon guard and 
as he was walking along, with his gun slung over his shoulders by the gun strap, and 
while going down hill his gun caught in the wheel and flopped Dan around a few times, 
when fortunately the gun sling broke which, no doubt, saved his life. The gun barrel 
was bent half-way around and the boys told Daniel that would be elegant to shoot 
around corners. The gun was the cause of a great deal of sport. Freddie Ulrich would 
get it and place himself at the end of the Company street and watch for Ehrhart to put 
in all appearance. Then Freddie would get behind the tent, the muzzle of the old 
twisted barrel pointing down the company street toward Ehrhart, when Freddie would 
yell, "Gep aucht Dannie, ich shees."    This the boys enjoyed but Dannie couldn't see 
the joke and he would make a dive for Freddie, who would drop the gun and run.
   Our camp grounds, in a few days, looked very respectable as it was well laid out. 
Good quarters were erected close by the railroad, about a half mile from the river and 
in sight of General Geary's headquarters, which were placed upon a knoll along the 
river. This place, as well as others, was at once strongly fortified. 
   On the 20th the brigade started out on a reconnaissance to the little town, Jasper, 
about 12 miles up the river, and returned the next day. While the troops were away 
word was brought to the camp that Rebel General Forrest was scouting around with a 
large force of cavalry and might attack us at any moment. The General became very 
much excited as the troops had all gone away with the exception of the pickets and 
those just relieved from picket the morning when the troops left. He ordered all the 
spare men around camp to report at once to headquarters, which was near the fort. A 
goodly number of us were non-commissioned officers and I don't remember of one 
commissioned officer being with us except the General and his staff. We were at once 
stationed in the fort and breastworks. The General had charge of us in the works and 
then took a number of us into the fort and drilled us as to loading and firing the 
canon. We were all on the alert during the night, and, as someone said, every minute we 
expected the next, so when morning came we looked anxiously for the brigade, which 
did not arrive until sometime in the afternoon. We were all overjoyed when we saw 
them coming. This was the only march that the writer missed during his service. 
   While in camp here James Bergstresser, a former Selinsgrove boy, visited Company G 
and found many whom he knew. Fred and Jas. P. Ulrich were nephews of his. He was a 
member of the 72nd Illinois regiment of the 15th Corps, then marching with 
Sherman's army from Vicksburg, Mississippi, to Chattanooga, Tennessee. 
   On January 21, Lieutenant Nelson Byers returned to the company after an absence of 
six months, being away on recruiting service. We were all glad to have Byers with us 
again, as he was a fine officer and well liked. Lieutenant Lewis C. Green, of Company 
F, was in command of Company G when Byers came back. Lieutenant Willet, of 
Company B, had veteranized and had gone home with the boys. A few days later 
Lieutenant B. T. Parks rejoined the company, having fully recovered from the wound 
thru his neck received, as you well remember, in the battle of Ringgold on November 
27, 1863. All were happy and we gave him a hearty welcome.
 
CHAPTER XXXXV 
   Many interesting incidents occurred while in this camp, but the recital of a few will 
suffice. On February 13, Andrew Duss, of Company H, suddenly lost his life. Duss 
was drafted in 1863, as was Adam Elseser, of Company F. They had been playmates in 
the Fatherland. These two happened to be attached to our regiment, one in Company 
H, the other in Company F. When they met and recognized each other, they were as 
happy as children and whenever duty permitted they were always together. On above 
date Elseser came over to see his old friend of Company H, and while walking along 
had a small pen knife with which he was whittling a piece of wood. Duss saw him 
coming, ran up to him and at the same time threw both arms around him. Elseser said: 
"Lookout, Duss, I have my knife open," but he pulled himself up tight against him, 
holding his arms so he could not pull away his knife. The small blade penetrated the 
heart and with a shriek he fell, and shortly after exonerating his friend and telling it 
was his own fault, he died. Elseser worried very much about this sad affair, and on 
April 28, following, he disappeared, and many thought he drowned himself in the 
Tennessee River.
   Bridgeport was the base of supplies for Sherman's army. We had plenty to eat and to 
wear, quite an improvement on old "Camp Starvation." Our camp suttler had just 
baked a lot of sole leather pies, as the boys called them. These he placed near the 
canvas of his tent, while the boys, who were on duty, went to investigate matters and, 
perhaps, be able to swipe a few pies. Quietly they went to the tent and found the exact 
spot where the pies had been stacked up, but the suttler had removed them and his dog, 
finding a warm place, lay down where the pies had been. One of the boys took his 
bayonet and ran it thru the canvas and hit the dog, which gave a number of unearthly 
yells, and the guards quickly scattered without the pies.
   On February 17, we broke camp, crossed the Tennessee River on the pontoon bridge, 
ascended Raccoon Mountain, marched out on top of the mountain to where we could 
see down the valley into the town of Trenton at the base of Lookout Mountain. We 
encamped here for the night and returned next day to Bridgeport. The purpose of this 
march we never learned. Traveled 24 miles.
   The marching was very difficult, it being impossible to keep in order. The officers 
had to dismount in ascending and also in descending the mountain. General Geary was 
very much out of humor that the men came down so scattered. We stacked arms along 
a run just in our front, when Daniel Gross, after breaking ranks, started to fill his 
canteen with water. The General halted him, saying, that if he did not return to his 
company at once he would blow out his brains. The General then called to Lieutenant 
Willit, of Company B, twice, but Willet did not hear him. Some one then told him that 
Geary wanted him. Then he arose, saluted the General and wanted to apologize, but the 
old fellow was wrothy and said he wanted no apology. He seemed to be beside himself 
that day.
   On March 26, Lieutenant Nelson Byers was promoted to Captain to fill the vacancy 
caused by the death of Captain Davis, who was killed at Ringgold, Ga., November 28, 
1863. Lieutenant B. T. Parks was promoted from Second to First Lieutenant. These 
were very worthy promotions, and the boys were all well pleased. We were fortunate in 
having brave and first class and considerate officers. Not one of the company was ever 
severely punished by them. But no doubt many deserved it.
   This was also the writer's 21st birthday and one of the happiest days of my life. I had 
now served Uncle Sam just one year and six months from date of enlistment. Our old 
regimental flag was now in tatters and a new one was sent to us from Harrisburg. The 
writer carried our first flag from Harrisburg to Harper's Ferry, Va., in November, 
1862, and handed it over to the regiment. The second one was sent to us while we lay 
at Bridgeport, Ala., and I carried it from the railroad station to the camp and handed it 
over to the proper officer. 
   Just above our camp along the Tennessee River was a large cane brake which was the 
means of a great deal of amusement. We cut down the reeds, took the larger sizes and 
made squirt guns of them. Then filled them with water and in the evening we would go 
around, while the boys would be having a game of cards or interested in some 
argument, which was very frequent. The tent would be slightly raised, when about a 
pint of cold water would be dashed into their faces and before the water could be wiped 
off the offenders would be gone. Another way was to cut large pieces off with the joints 
left of each end. These pieces were placed in the ashes where cooking was done and 
about the time the coffee was boiling they would explode throwing the dust and coffee 
in the air, and sometimes the cook on his back. All enjoyed the fun with the exception 
of the ones upon whom the tricks were played.
 
CHAPTER XXXXVI
   A regiment of colored troops camped a little distance from us and Company G boys 
(at least some of them) always liked to tease the smoked Yankees as we called them. In 
the cane brakes along the river and just above our camp was a good place for duck 
shooting, in which sport our boys were just delighted. General Geary finally sent one 
of his staff officers to find out who did the shooting and as a matter of course poor 
darky got the blame. A colored sergeant told the inquiring officer that his men did no 
shooting. And further said, "Cappen, I luff dar men alone and I want dem to luff my 
men alone."  After trying hard to find out who did the shooting the officer, after giving 
orders not to shoot any more, left.
   At Bridgeport there was a good sized boatyard where mechanics were put to work on 
an old boat lying in the Tennesee River. This was planked with portholes in its sides to 
shoot thru, and then painted black to imitate an ironclad. This boat was to make a 
reconnaissance down the river. On April 12, all being in readiness, 450 men with eight 
pieces of artillery having been detailed to make the trip down the river were loaded on 
this boat, and sometime in the afternoon we left with General Geary in command. Two 
flats were lashed to the boat, one on each side and these were filled with cavalrymen of 
some Alabama regiment, Union, I think the Fourth. About 35 Negroes with an Irish 
overseer, were taken along and as we had no coal to burn, fence rails were used and all 
went fine until we reached Larkin's Landing, about 30 miles down the river. Here a 
regiment of western army was encamped and it was dark when we arrived. It was 
something new to see a steamer on the river. After a little while some one on shore 
asked what is the name of your boat? Chickamauga came from a score of throats, when 
curses and other vile things were cast into our teeth, until General Geary interfered and 
quieted the mob on shore. The western men thought we were taunting them on account 
of our coming west after the battle of Chickamauga to help them. But the name of our 
boat was Chickamauga and when we were fully understood and that we did nothing 
wrong all was peace and joy.
   Thursday, April 13. We proceeded down the river until Guntersville was reached, 
where our boat entered the mouth of a small creek. A building on the bank of the creek 
interfered with the free use of artillery and Geary ordered it torn down. J. A. Lumbard 
came nearly losing his life for while bumping against the weatherboarding his gun 
broke thru and in pulling it out the hammer caught, placing it full set with the muzzle 
at Lumbard's breast. Certainly was a narrow escape.
   Companies B and G, under command of Lieutenant Parks moved towards the town, a 
half-mile inland, which we entered, captured the mail from the post office, drove out of 
town a number of Rebel Cavalry, and returned to the boat. The writer has in his 
possession a large knife or dagger, which we captured and which had been used by the 
Rebels. We proceeded on down the river until the pilot spied a brigade of infantry and 
a battery of artillery, Rebel General Forrest's command. Then General Geary at once 
ordered the captain of the boat to about face and go up the river as fast as he could. 
We had been down about 120 miles. Soon on our return trip a scout came aboard the 
boat and told the General that unless the boat could pass Guntersville before two 
o'clock A. M. that he would likely be captured as the Rebels would have a division of 
infantry and a battery of artillery there by that time. By pouring oil on the fire and 
doing his best the captain of the boat passed Guntersville about one A. M. only one 
hour to spare and all glad of it.
   Steaming along the next day the darkies off the plantations would come down to the 
river and yell and cheer saying "Hoorah fur de Union three cheers fur Linkum." Some 
one asked the General to let him shoot to scare. When he gave his consent and about a 
dozen shots were fired into the trees and such a scrambling and getting away you never 
saw. The more the boys on the boat yelled the faster the Darkies ran over stumps fallen 
trees thru bushes, over fences like so many wild animals.
   Going on up the river we saw a Rebel cavalryman on muleback and a Southern 
planter talking with him. Geary ordered the boat to the shore when the cavalryman 
rode off toward the mountain about a half-mile away. The General said to the planter: 
"Who was that Rebel soldier?" The planter motioned to his mouth and ears indicating 
that he was deaf and dumb. The General said: "Give me a gun" and in a moment a half 
dozen were handed to him, when the General took one, and the planter, to our 
surprise, said he did not know. One of Geary's staff officers standing nearby said he 
believed the General could make a piano talk. The planter was ordered on the boat and 
taken to Bridgeport and we don't know what became of him.

CHAPTER XXXXVII
   The General ordered the cavalry on the flat near the shore to get out their horses and 
go for the Rebel on muleback. "I want you all to go" he said, "but that little man and 
horse at the end of the flat." The General thought the horse would not be able to keep 
up with the boys. We saw a twinkle in the eyes of the troop as they rode out but did 
not understand what it meant. The order for the little man, and thin and poor looking 
horse did not suit the old man. So someone told the General that he was not pleased 
because he was not allowed to go along. The General said: "If you want to go all right." 
This pleased the little man. He hurried to his horse gave him a slap of the hand and 
said "gittup John".   Well, you should nave seen that horse a moment before he was 
hanging his head with apparently no life in him but as soon as his master touched him 
his head and tail were up in the air. The old man jumped on his back and the horse 
with one leap was out of the flat and soon caught up and a few more seconds and he 
was in the lead of the whole cavalry troop. We on the boat waved our caps and cheered 
for the old man and his horse. He jumped ditches, went over fences and passed 
everything that was out as cavalry. However they failed to find the Rebel. When they 
returned to the flat the old man and his lean horse, John, received congratulations from 
General Geary and everybody else on the boat. If ever anyone was pleased it was the 
little dried up man and even John the horse seemed to enjoy the fun.
   We again moved up the river and finally reached Bridgeport and our camp well 
pleased with the little outing. The only casualties were two men wounded, one shot 
thru the neck and another thru the shoulder, the same ball which barely missed the 
writer making both wounds. Several shots were fired by bushwhackers from the 
mountains as we were going down the river.
   Everything was now getting ready in camp for the opening of our Spring campaign. 
Sherman's army, which was forming a junction with us, was still arriving from 
Mississippi. On Monday May 2, a detail was made the writer being one of the chosen 
ones, to go
down to Larkin's Landing with the steamboat and take up the two pontoon bridges 
over which Sherman's army crossed the Tennessee River to Bridgeport. Colonel Pardee, 
of the 147th, was in command of this detail, numbering about 150 men. We tied up 
over night at the landing after a trip of 30 miles. On the morning of the
24, Tuesday, we got the pontoons in shape and started up the river, but when we 
reached Bridgeport the entire army had left camp and was on the march to the front. 
The same day this detail started down the river the army broke camp and marched 
towards Chattanooga.

Tuesday, May 2, Opening of the
Atlanta Campaign
   When our boat arrived at Bridgeport we anchored in the river, while Colonel Pardee 
went to the railroad telegraph once for orders. General Sherman telegraphed him to 
come on at once and join his command, then in the vicinity of Chattanooga, 24 miles 
away. We disembarked at once and started for the front. It being late in the day, we 
only marched a few miles, when night overtook us and we encamped in the corner of a 
large field. Sherman's troops going to the front marched on the public road, while our 
detail had to march on the railroad. This was one of our hardest marches, to catch up 
to our regiment.
   We had scarcely anything to eat, for both Confederate and our armies had passed 
over this road and the country was cleaned up of everything edible. We joined the 
regiment late in the day on Thursday, the 5th, The boys were all glad to see us and 
cheered us heartily, when we reached them. We too were happy and glad to get back to 
the regiment.
   Friday. May 6, we struck tents, marched in the direction of Lafayette, traveled 15 
miles. Saturday, May 7, broke camp, passed Taylor's Ridge and Gordon's Mills, 
traveled about 15 miles and encamped. Here we were placed on picket, a public road to 
our left and an apple orchard directly in our front. Shortly after the Rebel cavalry made 
a charge down the road and our pickets allowed them to come up close before firing 
and, I think, they got something they were not expecting, for they at once about-faced 
and galloped off.
   A little later we heard a noise directly in our front in the orchard, which created a 
little excitement along the picket line. We advanced cautiously thru the orchard, when 
we discovered a horse without a rider and closing in our lines we found it to be an old 
blind horse out grazing. We were all glad it was not the cavalry, which we imagined it 
was.
   Sunday, May 8, broke camp, marched five miles to Rocky-faced Ridge. Here the 
Rebels made a stand and while the balance of our division made a charge up the hill our 
regiment was ordered to support Knapp's Battery. The charge was gallantly made, but, 
owing to advantage of position and superior number of troops, the men were repulsed 
and driven down the hill with considerable loss. Night coming on, we encamped in the 
valley and erected a line of breastworks.

CHAPTER XXXXVIII
   Monday, 9th, while the company was on picket at the foot of the hill, Henry Brown 
and the writer were sent across the creek and up a zigzag road, leading thru a ravine. 
We were to go to the first turn in the road and report if any of the enemy were in 
sight. But from that point we were unable to see any distance, so we advanced to the 
third turn and there got into a gutter and lay down behind a log and while we two 
Union men were in this place the Rebel line advanced past us nearly to the base of the 
mountain. Brown and myself were then inside the enemy's lines where we lay. With the 
thought of Andersonville prison pen we there resolved that we would forfeit our lives 
rather than be taken prisoners. The bank alongside the road was about 10 or 12 feet 
high and we could hear the enemy talk plainly as they were going down the hill. We 
remained in this position about six hours. We could not see the enemy. We noticed a 
stir in our camp below us but no shooting was done. Finally they withdrew and 
fortunately for us none came up nor went down the road.
   After the withdrawal, Colonel Pardee, who had sent only two of us across the creek, 
now sent a detail to order us back. This detail came only to the first turn in the road, 
went back and reported that we were not there. The Colonel then sent a captain with an 
entire company and ordered him to go up the road until we were found or until he met 
the enemy.
   How glad we were when we saw them coming. We were taken to the Colonel's 
headquarters, when I was asked why we had gone up the road so far. I told him we 
could see to better advantage. He said that was all right, but you had a very narrow 
escape from being made prisoners. When we got back to the company, the boys were all 
glad to see us again. Brown and myself were thankful for our escape. Jacob Garman 
(nicknamed Yankee) came and extended his hand and said: "Glad to see you again, 
Schroyer, sout you gone to Richmond."
   Here an amusing incident occurred. A Dutchman of our regiment boiled a cup of 
coffee for his supper, regular amount for one man about one quart. He set his coffee in 
a fence corner, then went back to the fire to toast a cracker and broil a piece of pork. 
When he came back to get his coffee, imagine his surprise to find that in his absence a 
large toad had jumped into his coffee cup and was laying on his back spread out with 
all four legs hanging over the cup. The Dutchman looked at the coffee and the toad a 
moment, then picked up coffee, bucket, and toad and threw them against the fence, 
saying "Yetz mare hov ich kine coffee."    Then followed "Dunner",   and finished up 
in German something about the weather, you know the rest. He could not forget the 
toad and every now and then he would say "fur fluchty grutt."    He used a number of 
other very high Dutch expressions which must be omitted.
   On the 10th and 11, Tuesday and Wednesday, we remained in our breastworks at 
Rocky-faced Ridge.
   Thursday, May 12th, struck tents, marched thru Snake Creek Gap and encamped, 
traveled 10 miles.
   Friday, the 13th, moved camp about three miles and put up a line of works. The 
roads thru Snake Creek Gap were very rough and hard to march on. We could plainly 
see the Confederates marching on the mountain top to our left, in the same direction 
that we were traveling, their bayonets and guns glistening in the sun. We expected that 
ere long General Sherman intended to strike the enemy a severe blow.
   On Saturday, the 14th, the several army corps were closing in about Resaca. We 
moved but three miles, and lay in the woods until Sunday, May 15, just beyond the 
range of hills thru which was a ravine. The Fourth Corps was engaged with the enemy. 
We noticed a hurrying to and fro among our officers and General Hooker, commander 
of the 20th Corps, giving verbal instructions to his division commanders. Only a few 
minutes passed when the bugles sounded strike tents and fall in. Everything was hurry 
and bustle and in a very short time the forward command was given and we passed thru 
the ravine on a double quick into the open country. Then to our surprise we found the 
Fourth Corps falling back and terribly demoralized.
   The Rebels had already captured one of their batteries and were in the act of turning 
the guns on the retreating men, when the Twentieth Corps under Hooker came dashing 
thru the ravine and, with a yell and on the double quick, charged the advancing enemy, 
who was so thoroughly surprised that in a short time we had driven back the foe with 
great loss, recapturing the battery and turning the same on the now retreating enemy.
 
CHAPTER XXXXIX
   After this charge, U. P. Hafley, Asa B. Churchhill, the writer, and others of Company 
G, whom I cannot recall at this late date, were sent along the skirmish line. We were 
placed in an open field, where the scorching rays of a southern sun beat down upon us. 
We were compelled to lie upon our backs, load our guns, turn around and fire. Then 
the same was repeated over and over again, until the last round of our sixty was placed 
in our guns. Churchhill, who was only about five steps to my left, was shot thru the 
breast and instantly killed, but the body could not be removed until evening. He was 
shot early in the afternoon. The Rebel skirmishers and a battery of artillery kept up a 
continual fire all day. Many of our division were killed and wounded this day on the 
skirmish line. Jerry Hathaway was among the wounded of Company G. He was a good 
soldier. He had been sent to the Jeffersonville, Indiana, hospital, where he lingered 
until June 27, when he died. He was buried in the National Cemetery in New Albany, 
Indiana. His grave is 587 of Section B. He was recruited from the Isle of Que.
   Asa B. Churchhill was originally from McKean county. He joined us at Harrisburg, 
September 21, 1862. He was a stranger to all of us. His remains now rest in Marietta 
and Atlanta National Cemetery, in Marietta, Ga. Section A, grave 615. Churchhill was 
a good Christian soldier. On the evening of the 14th he and the writer went to a spring 
for water, and coming away he said to me while eating his hard tack: "I expect to be 
killed tomorrow and I want to die with a full stomach." He seemed to have a 
premonition that his life was soon to come to an end. In the evening, when the body 
was removed from the field for burial, a Bible was taken from his knapsack, and it was 
sent to his family at home, and we, not knowing how many stamps would be required, 
pasted them over almost all the cover, leaving just enough room for the address.
   On the night of the fifteenth, the Rebels retreated. We followed them the next 
morning. We halted for our dinner near the Rebel field hospital. Here we witnessed 
some horrible sights: piles of legs and arms near the amputating tables, the ground 
covered with blood. In looking at those who had been carried to the hospital, one who 
had been shot in the forehead attracted the attention of Captain Glace, of Company C, 
and also that of the writer, about the same time. We stooped down beside him and 
found that he was still alive, with blood all over his face and covered with flies. We 
washed his face with the water from our canteens, and this revived him so much that in 
the course of half an hour, when a fly would light on his wound, he would raise his 
hand and drive it away. Our time was limited, so we had to leave the poor unfortunate 
there, as soon the order to move was given. We had to leave him there to die alone and 
away from friends and home.
   Monday, May 16, Rebels in full retreat. We marched 12 miles, crossing the Cooza 
and Tallapoosa Rivers.
   Tuesday, May 17, broke camp, marched eight miles.
   Wednesday, May 18, struck tents and traveled thru Fitzcraft and encamped, having 
marched 20 miles.
   Thursday, May 19. Broke camp, marched 10 miles and encamped at dusk.
   Friday, May 20. We came up with the enemy at Cassville, Ga., where they made a 
stand, and we engaged in skirmishing all along the line. Late in the day we moved 
forward in line of battle toward their works, which were located beyond a strip of 
woods. The 17th Regiment with flying colors, marched forward as if on review, with as 
perfect a line as it was possible for a regiment to form, and, when we reached the 
ground beyond the woods we found the enemy retreating.
   On May 21 and 22 we remained near Cassville. Here supplies were issued, and the 
sick were sent to the rear, U. P. Hafley being the only one from Company G.
   On Monday, May 23, broke camp, crossed Etowah River and encamped, marched 13 
miles. Tuesday, 24th, traveled 12 miles and encamped.

BATTLE OF NEW HOPE CHURCH
Wednesday, May 25, 1864
   Left camp in good time this morning, marched about nine miles when we struck the 
enemy near Pumpkinvine Creek. The bridge spanning the creek, having been fired by 
Rebel cavalry, was burning when we crossed over it. The White Star Division, General 
Geary's, being in the advance of our regiment in the lead of the division, General 
Hooker with his staff and bodyguard had gone ahead of us, when they were fired into 
by an ambuscade of Rebels. Hooker at once deployed his men, while our column 
following was halted in the road, loaded our guns, right faced and hurried to the front.
   There we found General Hooker dismounted and directing us where to go. The Fifth 
Ohio regiment, following us and forming line of battle on our right, had scarcely 
gotten into position when a volley was fired into them, killing and wounding 105 men, 
including Colonel Patrick, their commander. General Hooker placed himself just in 
rear of Company G and drawing his sword, or cheese knife, as the boys used to call it, 
said: "This line can't break unless it goes thru me first." Ed Fisher said, "That's so, old 
Fighting Joe." 

CHAPTER L
   A little incident occurred here that caused a good deal of merriment among the boys. 
When General Hooker and his staff were fired into by the Rebels, a woman living there 
was very much put out about General Hooker. She said: Captain Hooker came along 
with his critter company and formed two rows of fight and marched endways and upset 
her ash hopper, for which she would not have taken two dollars and a half, and she 
talked it off in double quick time, just as fast as a woman can talk when she is excited. 
We all know how fast that is. The boys all enjoyed it, and the old lady's little speech 
was often repeated during the balance of our term of service.
   Soon the first division of our corps got into line in advance of us and lay down. 
General Geary for some reason commanded our division to advance, passing over First 
Division. We moved rapidly toward the enemy's fortifications and came to a low, 
marshy place, when Colonel Pardee gave command, by the right flank; Lieutenant 
Colonel Craig by mistake commanded by the left flank which action separated our 
regiment. At this time it began to rain but beyond the marsh we again got into good 
shape and moved toward on a charge on a battery posted in a fort. We advanced so 
close to the cannon's mouth that the sparks of the discharged pieces were flying all 
around us. Scarcely would a shell leave the cannon's mouth until it exploded.
   The fighting was severe and we were repulsed. Eighteen hundred men were killed and 
wounded in our corps in less than three hours. The loss in Company G was: Ed Fisher, 
wounded in the foot; Elias Noll, wounded in the foot; William Seesholtz, leg shot off 
at ankle, died from amputation, and buried in National Cemetery, Chattanooga, Tenn., 
and William E. Fausnaucht, leg shot off just below the knee.
   We fell back only a short distance, where we lay for the night, and in the morning we 
began building works and I want to say that men under fire work with double energy 
when erecting works for their protection. During the night the writer, who had been to 
the rear, was coming along with some other soldiers when one of them stumbled over 
someone lying under a tree with a rubber Poncho over him to protect him from the 
rain. He said, "Where is this?" The Poncho was thrown back and the reply was General 
Hooker's headquarters. The General came close up to the line of battle and there lay 
down with his troops in order to share their hardships. No wonder the boys always 
cheered him, when he would ride by us!
   We remained in this position from May 25th to June 1st, under fire continually day 
and night. On June 1st we were moved about three miles to the left of the line of 
breastworks.
   On the night of May 28, Saturday, the enemy charged our works just to our right, 
but were repulsed with heavy loss. Our front rank fixed bayonets, while the rear rank 
was to do the firing. They expected to carry our works but failed. It takes all the nerve 
the troops have to charge a battery as we did here and being fortified as they were and 
we out in the open woods. Sometimes we hear soldiers say they would just as lief go 
into battle as to eat a meal. When I hear talk of this kind I am always reminded of the 
Irishmen, who were talking about the war. When Pat said to Jamie: "Whiniver I get into 
battle, O'im always where the bullets are the thickest," and Jamie said: "And where is 
that Pat?" Pat replied: "Under the ammunition wagon be jabers." There is the place I 
think all these brave fellows would be found that would rather fight than eat.
   In front of our regiment and close by the works was a large oak tree on line with the 
skirmishers. The enemy hand an enfilade fire upon this place, and seven men were 
killed behind this tree. A board was nailed up marked The "Fatal Tree."
   While in this line of works on May 29th, Sunday, we noticed an unusual bustle and 
activity about 10 A. M., among the officers and their aids. We knew that something 
more than ordinary was brewing, but could not tell what it all meant. Soon, however, 
orders were received at regimental headquarters for the command to be in readiness to 
move upon the enemy's works precisely at one o'clock. These works and fort were 
charged upon just four days before, and were repulsed. Now four days later, when the 
enemy had strengthened their position, we were again to make another attempt to 
capture the same. This was indeed trying on the nerves of the boys, for well we knew 
that it would end in a fearful slaughter, and likely a failure to carry the trenches and 
forts. When this order to assault was received, we all knew what would be required of 
us, and that we were taking our lives in our hands, not knowing who would live thru it. 
But while we were quietly waiting for the time to move and the regiments were getting 
ready for the command forward. General Sherman had heard of General Hooker's 
orders having been issued to assault at one O'clock. Sherman at once countermanded 
Hooker's rash order. And how glad we all were, and how soon the pale and worried 
faces of the boys were changed to a more contented expression.

CHAPTER LI
   A few moments before, as the time set for the assault was drawing near, there was a 
gloomy foreboding that before the setting of the sun many of us would have answered 
our last roll call. Men turned deathly pale, for they realized just what was before them. 
We believe that a man who realizes the danger to be encountered and turns pale and 
even becomes nervous is the man who will be as true as steel when he is called upon to 
do and dare for his country. But the countermanding of Hooker's order by General 
Sherman made us all feel much better and we all felt like tipping our caps to our grand 
old commander.
   On Thursday, June 2, we left our works and moved about three miles to the left of 
our line of battle and in supporting distance of the 23rd army corps, which, with 
General Schoffield commanding, was engaged with the foe at this time. June 3, 4, and 
5, we remained within supporting distance to the 23rd Corps.
   On Monday, June 6 we broke camp, the Rebels retreating, marched about five miles 
on the road leading to Marietta. A heavy rain set in a few days before we reached this 
camp and for seven days we remained here for the purpose of supplying the army with 
camp equipment, clothing, etc.
   Thunderstorms and rain was the rule and not the exception of each day. We are sure 
we never saw anything to even equal much less surpass the thunder and lightning we 
beheld while in this camp. When the rainy season was over a general order was issued 
to clean up, and more especially to put our guns in good condition for future use.
   Colonel Pardee never allowed any shooting in or around camp. Ed Fisher, who, by 
the way, never fired a gun before he went to the army, asked the writer in a sort of 
confidential way that if he would pull the ball out of his gun and then fire it off, 
whether it would crack. The writer said: "Why of course not." So Ed, forthwith drew 
the ball, put on a cap and pulled the trigger. Imagine his surprise when the report and 
the echo of that shot rang out there in the woods. It seemed to him like the firing of a 
cannon. The Colonel, who unfortunately was not far away, ordered the writer to buck 
and gag Fisher, which was done according to orders. While the writer was carrying out 
these orders, Fisher said, "I have a notion to blow on you, for all this was your fault." I 
told him if he did I would haul him up tight. He sort of feared I might tighten him up, 
and said nothing more about it, except that he remarked that he would never believe 
anything I told him.
   In this camp, our Lieutenant Colonel Craig had a narrow escape from being killed. 
He rode out along the line of the brigade and passed the Fifth Ohio regiment, where 
the men were felling a good sized tree, and just as he was passing under it, they noticed 
the tree swinging, when the boys called to the Colonel to get out of the way. He looked 
and saw the tree falling right toward him, and for some reason, which he could never 
explain, he was unable to move his horse from the spot. The Colonel saw his danger, 
jumped from the horse and ran away, the topmost branches of the tree switching over 
his back, while the trunk fell squarely on the saddle where he had been sitting, killing 
the horse instantly.
   We remained in this camp until June 14, Tuesday. Nothing unusual took place here 
except as I said before, cleaning camp, our shooting irons, and to see that our powder 
was dry. The army, now numbering 100,000 men, was well furnished with the 
necessary supplies and ready to go forward. Some of the other corps had moved 
forward and the fighting had already begun.
   We broke camp and moved in the direction of the enemy, where we could see in the 
distance Pine, Lost and Kenesaw Mountains, which were occupied and strongly 
fortified by the Rebels. Firing and cannonading began in the morning, and kept up all 
day. Corporal George W. VonNeida and Lewis Millhoff had been out on the side of 
Pine Mountain and found in an old abandoned hut a lot of castor oil beans. These were 
distributed among the boys of the company, who ate them and it is as to the effect of 
these beans, except to state we had in Company G a lot of very sick (and that is a very 
mild statement) boys for a day or two.
   Wednesday, June 15, a heavy skirmish detail was drawn from out of our regiment. 
SOLLY APP, D. W. Gross and the writer and perhaps others, whom I cannot recall at 
this late date, were detailed from Company G. We were out from early morning until 
some little time after dinner, when Colonel Craig, who was officer-of-the-day, sent out 
another line, and we were relieved with orders to remain in rear of the advance line 
about 300 feet and rest. I asked him in particular as to our duties and he said: "If the 
line advances, keep about this distance in the rear, and, should they be driven in, you 
fall in with them, so as to strengthen the line until reinforcements can be sent." 

CHAPTER LII
   About 3:00 P. M. our second brigade came marching in rear of our skirmishers, 
going to the left of our line of battle. These boys saw us lying behind trees and of 
course thinking we were shysters, began yelling at us and asking why we did not go 
forward to where we belonged. My memory gives the regiment as the 145th New York, 
of our second brigade, which halted only a short distance in the rear of us when 
perhaps fifty began calling us cowards, skulkers, shysters, etc., and finally a great, tall 
Dutch captain came up to us and asked "Who has charge of these men?" The writer 
told him that he had. Then the captain ordered us forward. I told him that we were 
obeying the instructions of our officer-of-the-day, and furthermore I refused to obey 
any command from him as we did not belong to his brigade. He drew his sword and 
threatened to run it thru me if I did not go, all the while his boys kept yelling to their 
captain to make us move forward. I told him that we would not move an inch, as we 
were carrying out our instructions from Colonel Craig, of the 147th regiment, who was 
a better man than he was. Finally he went back to his company, when his Orderly 
Sergeant came up and he was a perfect gentleman. I told him how we had been out all 
day and that we were relieved, etc. "Well," he said, "Why did you not tell the captain?" I 
said the old fool would not listen to what I said. The Orderly returned to his company, 
when the yelling ceased. SOLLY APP, who was near me at the time, said, "Schroyer, I 
thought you was a gonner that time."
   Later on the entire skirmish line advanced, driving the enemy into their works. We 
skipped from tree to tree and shielded ourselves as best we could until we were close up 
to their fort and breastworks. These works were covered with sand bags and the boys 
were close enough to see the loop holes between the bags, also filed into the port holes 
of the fort and silenced their artillery. After holding this position for some time, 
Corporal Fred B. Ulrich was sent out by Colonel Pardee to order the skirmishers back 
to the regiment. The going back was worse than the forward movement. We finally 
rejoined the regiment and were drawn up into line of battle and ordered to lie down. 
While lying in position at this place hugging old Mother Earth as closely as it was 
possible to do the writer had a very narrow escape of being shot. Three bullets struck 
not more than three inches from my side and were fired apparently in the same place. 
SOLLY APP said: "Schroyer, they are coming rather close, you had better move." As we 
moved to this place we found Major Moses Veale, who was staff officer for General 
Geary, lying near a tree, wounded thru his chest. When asked whether we should carry 
him off he said: "No, for God's sake go where you are needed, I'll take care of myself." 
Brave old boy he was! And I am glad to say that at this writing, 1912, he is still an 
honored citizen of Philadelphia.
   Daniel Ehrhart came back from the skirmish line shot thru the shoulder. He was sent 
to the hospital and died August 16, 1864, and was buried in the National Cemetery, at 
Nashville, Tenn. John Haas had been detailed to bring up ammunition to the company. 
He had just gotten back when he got down upon his knees to take off his knapsack, 
when someone of the company said: "Snapper (as this was his nickname), get down or 
you will be shot." We were all down flat upon the ground. Hardly had the word been 
spoken when a bullet passed thru his chest. He was taken to the rear by Henry Brown, 
one of our drafted men. We heard that he lived only a short time after he was wounded. 
We don't know where he was buried.
   Some time after Haas was wounded we moved out of our position a little distance 
and soon after dark the firing ceased, and we were put to building trenches. Whenever 
the boys thought that it was necessary they would work like tigers, but when they 
thought there was not much danger it was hard to keep them at work. When the 
morning dawned we had works that we felt proud of. Here SOLLY APP had a very 
narrow escape, although he was slightly wounded in the cheek. Our lines were so close 
that the skirmishers on both sides were withdrawn and the firing was done directly 
from the breastworks. While lying in these works, just to the left of our company-we 
being on a little rise-was a small run and to our left and front was an open field. Our 
works, also the Rebel works were both in the woods, just along the edge of the open 
field and the firing was kept up continually. In the afternoon a man wearing a black hat, 
high top boots, and a gum poncho over him, and mounted on a black horse, came from 
our rear along the run, out of the woods, and rode to the front and straight toward the 
Rebel works. We called to him not to go as he was within 100 feet of our company 
when he passed. He spoke nothing, but only looked at us. Everyone was dumfounded at 
his daring as we expected him to be shot and we told him so, but he went slowly on, his 
horse on a walk until he reached the center of the field, when he turned to the left and 
rode down the field directly between the opposing lines of battle as far as we could see 
him.
 
CHAPTER LIII
   In about a half hour later he rode up in rear of our works from the left of the line to 
where he first came out of the woods, riding on a walk all the while, and who he was or 
what his mission was remains a mystery to this day. The strange part of it was that 
neither friend nor foe fired a shot at him while he passed between the lines. All seemed 
to wonder why a man should take such a risk, and that a man so brave should not be 
shot.   Captain John Q. Mercer, of Company E, next adjoining on the right of 
Company G, had his leg knocked off from the explosion of a shell, many of company 
G witnessing the wounding of the captain. We all thought a great deal of him and were 
sorry to have him meet with this misfortune. Only a few days before the wounding of 
the captain, Sergeant Riley, of the same company, was killed while lying in his tent. 
The Sergeant's tent and the writer's at one corner were held down by the same tent pin. 
The writer was lying in his own tent when the Sergeant was shot. Dead men were not 
allowed to be placed upon a stretcher during a battle, but if placed on before being 
dead the body could be taken away for burial. The Sergeant's brother, who was present, 
had him placed upon the stretcher and carried to the rear and decently buried.
   As the morning of the 17th dawned it was discovered that the enemy had fled and we 
soon took possession of his works. Firing was continuous, and Will Keller, while frying 
liver had a bullet pass through his frying pan. This was close enough for comfort.
   On June the l9th, Sunday, we found the enemy had again evacuated its works. We at 
once followed, driving the foe until about noon, when we came to a halt. Colonel 
Candy, our 
brigade commander, directed Colonel Pardee to send out three men to discover the 
location of a certain road which his brigade was to take up position. The Colonel 
ordered Captain Byers, of Company G, to take such a detail. J. A. Lumbard, W. S. 
Keller and Jas. W. Smith were sent out. These were instructed to move very cautiously 
until they came to the first cross road, when one should return and report.
   They advanced until they reached an open field when they halted and consulted as to 
whether they should go any further. Finally it was thought best to advance, when in the 
middle of an open field Smith discovered that they were running into a trap and with a 
low whistle notified Lumbard and Keller of the fact, when they aboutfaced and started 
for the rear. The enemy opened fire upon them and the bullets whistled all around 
them, striking the ground in front and behind. Several bullets had passed through their 
clothing, but soon they were under cover of the woods. It was marvelous that these 
three men made their escape.   The brigade now advanced rapidly, halting in the edge of 
the woods and under fire proceeded to put up a strong line of earth works.
   On Monday, June 20th, we were relieved by the Fourth Army Corps and erected 
another line of works in advance of the one we had occupied. The order of the day was 
fighting, building works and pushing on towards Atlanta, the goal of this wonderful 
campaign.
   The 21st, 22nd, 23rd and 24th, fighting and skirmishing day and night. We are now 
in sight of Kenesaw, well fortified position of the enemy. The railroad was repaired up 
to our skirmish line which was close to the base of Kenesaw. A loaded train of cars 
came to Big Shanty, the locomotive detached, was run forward to a water tank within 
range of the enemy's guns on Kenesaw, when the enemy opened fire on the locomotive, 
but the engineer was not afraid, went to the tank, got water and returned safely to his 
train, answering the guns with the screams of his whistle, aided by the cheers and 
shouts of the boys in the trenches.
   On the 24th, Friday, Jack Grant, drafted, a member of Company G, was killed on the 
skirmish line. He was in a rifle pit with Jacob Garman. A bullet pierced his breast, 
while at the same time a minnie ball plugged itself into the muzzle of his gun. When 
shot, he fell, but instantly rose to his feet, took off his blouse, layed it down on the 
ground, placed his cap on the blouse, layed down and immediately expired. He was 
buried that night and, while digging the grave, noise of the operation attracted the 
attention of the enemy, who opened fire on them. Hurriedly the grave was finished, his 
body placed into it, when it was found too small, as his arm was sticking above the 
ground. One of the boys took hold of and pressed it down to his side, breaking it off 
with a snap. Hastily he was covered with a few inches of earth. Corporals Fred B. 
Ulrich and J. A. Lumbard and W. S. Keller were those who buried him. They placed 
him, in a shelter tent, brought him from the advanced line to the breastworks, where he 
was buried. Lumbard says: "I never witnessed a more pitiable sight than the burial of 
poor Jack Grant." We have no knowledge of his being disinterred and placed in any 
National cemetery. His bones no doubt still rest where they were placed that dreary 
night. He was an entire stranger to us. We knew nothing of where he came from.
   Saturday, June 25th. We could see from our position the movements of our army 
and that of the enemy, along Kenesaw mountain for probably two miles. The boys 
would get upon our works, even though it was dangerous, to take in the sights, along 
the lines of battle. Our brave little Lieutenant, B. T. Parks, got upon the works, his left 
foot on the head log, with his hand under his chin, his elbow resting his knee and 
taking in the sight, towards Kenesaw, when off to his right and rear a sharp shooter 
took aim at him, the ball entering near his right eye, coming out near his left ear, 
passing clear thru his head. He fell and rolled out over the works, when a number of 
the boys hurriedly brought him inside. They placed him on his back with his head 
slightly down hill, blood flowing from his ears, nose and mouth. Captain Fair, who just 
arrived from Philadelphia with company I, for the regiment, said, "turn the Lieutenant 
around or he will strangle for you" and then asked for water. He washed his wound and 
placed him in as comfortable a position as it was possible to do, until he was carried 
away. The captain was a physician and I think the Lieutenant owes his life to Captain 
Fair even tho he lost the sight of his right eye, and the hearing of his left ear. This sad 
occurrence cast a gloom over every member of company G, for we all loved our brave 
commander. It was said at the time of the Lieutenant's wounding that Levi J. Romig, 
just back of Parks in the breast works, was hunting for graybacks in his shirt, and when 
the ball struck Parks, his legs slipped out from under him and a number of the boys 
thought he was wounded, until Jim Smith gave the alarm that it was Lieutenant Parks. 
As the Lieutenant, was taken away upon a stretcher, we never expected to see him again. 
But we are glad to state that he is still among the living. The day following the 
wounding of Lieutenant Parks, Sunday, June 26th, John Mull, while on the skirmish 
line, received a gun shot wound in the foot and was sent back to the hospital, disabling 
him for future service. On top of Kenesaw mountain stands Marietta College. A 
number of us were looking at the artillery duel and the advancing of our troops up the 
hill, as some officer stood by with a field glass. He asked the writer to take a look. I 
did so and we could plainly see the college the top of which was covered with men and 
women taking in the battle. The road leading by was covered with Confederate soldiers, 
wagons and artillery, all moving towards the rear. We were satisfied that a retreat of the 
foe was again contemplated, and so it proved.
   On Monday the 27th, a general advance was made of only a short distance when a 
new line of works was created. We remained in these on the 28th and 29th. On 
Thursday June 30th, the 14th army corps relieved us and our corps, the 20th relieved 
the 23rd Corps occupying their works. Traveled 5 miles.
   July 1st and 2nd, fighting all along the line. On July 1st Corporal George W. 
VonNeida was wounded in the arm. Knapp's battery was placed on a knoll in rear of us 
and fired over our heads. A piece of lead from one of our own shells flew off and hit 
him. He was sent to the hospital, thus disabling another of our men for the balance of 
the war. Rebels retreated on night of the 2nd. We followed closely the retreating foe 
skirmishing with them all day, traveled five miles.
   Monday, July 4th. Today we celebrated our nation's birthday. The day was bright and 
warm. The bands played the national airs and every one seemed encouraged upon the 
success of Sherman's army thus far, and as now we could see in the distance the church 
spires of Atlanta, we felt that before many days the city would be ours. Some of the 
boys of company G were so filled up with patriotism that in many cases it overflowed. 
The reason of this excess was that whiskey was issued to the boys and those who drank 
seemed to enjoy it better on the Fourth than they did the fifth.
   A stream was near by camp and a goodly number went in bathing. I don't think the 
whiskey and the water agreed with some of the boys for they came near drowning. A 
certain corporal of the company and an editor and publisher of a Snyder county paper 
for many years (I have no grudge against him therefore will not mention his name but 
might later point him out to the reader.) was one of the number who went in bathing, 
and who was so overcome with the spirit of '76 that he managed to crawl upon the 
bank and lay there upon his stomach until the hot southern sun had blistered his back, 
which took days to heal.
   Toward evening all this fun ceased and the forward command was again given. 
Skirmishing began at once but the foe were pushed from one position to another, until 
the Chattahoochie river was reached. This was only eight miles from Atlanta. The 
Rebels made a strong stand here, but General Sherman, by one of his flank movements, 
succeeded in getting into their rear and they had to retreat. Pontoons were thrown 
across the river on Sunday, July 17th we crossed to the Atlanta side of the 
Chattahoochie river at Isham's Ferry.
 
CHAPTER LIV
   The move towards the city was now on in earnest. The entire army was now over the 
river, and "On to Atlanta" was the cry. On the above date the Confederate Army 
changed commanders, General Hood taking the place of General Joseph E. Johnson. 
He had now reached Peach Tree Creek. Our regiment was placed upon a knoll and two 
batteries of our guns each were distributed in the regiment, owing to the higher ground 
which we occupied. The Rebel general, Hood, had said upon taking command that he 
would drive Sherman and his army back to Chattanooga, Tenn., and his first trial of it 
was again Fighting Joe Hooker's Corps, the 20th, at Peach Tree Creek, where Hood 
utterly failed in his purpose.
   General Geary with the 33rd New Jersey regiment of our White Star Division had 
gone out from the breastworks to reconnoitre, when about noon they were 
unexpectedly fired into by Hood's advancing columns. The General in falling back lost 
his hat. He was given a hat by one of his orderlies, which was much too small for him, 
and the boys made all manner of fun about it, and had not the battle already begun I 
think some of the men would have heard from the General.
   But the fight was on in all its fury. On our right our line was not quite connected 
with our first division, there being a small gap between us. Here the Rebels charged 
thru, driving part or our division some distance to the rear. This brought the Rebels 
directly in our rear. Our artillery now did noble work, although the Rebels came in 
such heavy columns that the right of the 147th Regiment lost two pieces of artillery, 
which were turned upon the regiment. Then just in the nick of time Companies A and 
F, under command of Captain Krider, of Company F, charged the Rebels, recapturing 
the cannon and driving the foe away.
   The firing was severe all along our front. Our regiment was the only one in our 
brigade to hold its position during the battle, which lasted several hours. Colonel 
Pardee dismounted, sent his horse back with an orderly and with drawn sword was right 
up to the firing line, urging the men to stand to their posts. Some from another 
regiment ran in rear of us, when the Colonel cried out: "If you want to run do it in rear 
of your own regiment. The 147th doesn't run."
   The Colonel in his official report says: "The unwavering front presented by this 
regiment, with the aid of the artillery posted in its line, repelling with great slaughter 
the most desperate charges of the foe, undoubtedly saved the corps from disaster, and 
won for its commander the commission of a Brevet Brigadier General." The loss in this 
battle, Peach Tree Creek, in Hooker's Corps, was 1,500 men. Four hundred Rebel dead 
were left on the field, and 4,000 wounded. Owing to the peculiar position of our 
regiment and the protection afforded by our barricade, the loss was but slight, only two 
killed and five wounded. It was said at the time that the two companies, B and G, did 
not have a man killed or wounded, a most remarkable thing. And we had a piece of 
artillery at each end of Company G, yet we all escaped.
   At night the Confederates remoted some of their wounded. It was amusing after the 
battle to listen to the boys conversing with each other. The concussion of the artillery, 
placed in the line of the regiment, was so great that the hearing of each one was 
affected, and whenever they would speak to each other they had to yell like 
Commanchee Indians. This deafness, however passed away in a day or two.
   July 22nd, the Rebels attacked the left Wing of the army. This is usually called the 
battle of Atlanta. It was here General McPherson lost his life. While arranging his 
troops and passing from one column to another, he being some distance ahead of staff 
and orderlies, rode upon an ambuscade and was killed instantly. General Logan was 
directed by Sherman to take command of McPherson's troops. The enemy having been 
defeated on the 20th, at Peach Tree Creek by Hooker's Corps, and now again on the 
left by McPherson's troops, fell back into the entrenchments surrounding the city of 
Atlanta. These were in a general circle of about one and a half miles from the city 
proper.

Siege of Atlanta Begun July 22, 1863
   After the battle of Atlanta Sherman's army closed in the erection of earthworks 
commenced at once, and the siege of Atlanta was on. The death of McPherson caused 
quite a rivalry among the generals as to who should take his place. Sherman had placed 
General Logan in command of the Army of the Tennessee by virtue of his seniority. 
But Sherman did not consider him equal to command three corps. General Hooker 
expected to be chosen to succeed McPherson, but instead General O. O. Howard was 
placed in command.
   This offended Hooker and he resigned as commander of the 20th corps.
 
CHAPTER LV
   General Slocum, while we encamped at Bridgeport, Alabama, was sent to take 
command at Vicksburg, Miss. General Slocum now returned and took Hooker's place. 
General A. S. Williams, senior division commander, was in command of the corps until 
Slocum returned.
   Atlanta was well fortified, even beyond our expectation. This line of Sherman's at 
Atlanta, if my memory serves me right, was the sixteenth line of breastworks which we 
erected from May to September, each about ten or twelve miles in length. The ones we 
now occupied were first class. If the reader thinks Sherman's bummers, as they were 
called, had an easy time of it he is sadly mistaken. We drove the enemy from 
Bridgeport, Ala., to Atlanta, Ga., a distance of 178 miles, every inch thru the enemy's 
country, erecting nearly 200 miles of works, and this during the heat of the summer. 
This certainly was no child's play. During all these hardships, we yet had some little 
fun. When off duty, the boys amused themselves by playing checkers, cards, figmill, 
etc. The chessmen were made with our pocket knives. We had a Colonel Bushbeck in 
our brigade and Joe Ulsh would forget the names of the chessmen and especially the 
Bishop, which he always called Bushbeck, so we nicknamed Ulsh Bushbeck and he still 
goes by that name with the company boys.
   The firing was kept up day and night, every fifteen minutes two 32-pounders would 
throw their shells into the city. On a quiet night we could hear the shells crashing thru 
some building then explode, setting fire to the building. In reply to our cannon the 
Rebels would drop a gentle reminder (64-lb shells) into our camp, which would create 
quite a stir.
   One morning when all was quiet along the line and all were asleep, except the men on 
the skirmish line, and those upon the breastworks, all the artillery along the Rebel lines 
opened on us at a given signal. It took us but a very short time to get into our works 
and I want to tell you we hugged them tight. When daylight came General Geary rode 
along the line and told us that tomorrow morning our artillery would wake up the 
Johnnies. Forty-five cannons were put into shape and next morning all opened on the 
forts and works in our direct front. Each gun fired fifteen shots, making a total of 675 
shots. These all went into the city, exploding and doing much damage. Prisoners 
captured later told us that had we charged their works in the morning, we could have 
easily captured the city, as the foe had vacated their works and sought places of safety. 
At night a large Rebel gun would open fire and we could see the flash before the shell 
arrived, so when we saw the flash of our gun, as the boys called it, every one would yell 
down, and everyone would seek a place of safety.
   As time went on many little incidents occurred. One night when all was quite and the 
boys were having sweet dreams of home, suddenly the Johnnies, just in front of us fired 
a volley of musketry. Johnnie Marks, who was tenting with Dan Gross, lost his cap and 
in the excitement to get into our works Dan put on the cap. Johnnie, still hunting for 
his cap, said:  "Dan, wu ist mi hoot?"    Just then another volley was given, when 
Johnnie in a much louder tone yelled again, "Dan, wu ist mi hoot?"    Now the third 
volley came, when he was still looking for his cap and a little more excited, screamed 
with all his might: "Dunner wetter, Dan, wu ist mi hoot?"  
   Our railroad bridge over the Chattahoochie River, about six miles in the rear, was 
now completed and the railroad finished to our works.
   Sometimes it is said that everything was run too slow during the Civil War, that 
should such a war be conducted today everything would be run on a swifter scale. The 
Chattahoochie bridge, 740 feet long and 90 feet high, was rebuilt by 600 men in four 
and one-half days. Who could do any better?
   The train would sometimes come right up to our line and whistle for all that was in 
it. It made it a little unpleasant for us, for the Rebels would always open their artillery 
on them. Yet we enjoyed seeing our trains coming right up to the front.
   General Sherman now thought he had all things in readiness for the capture of the 
city. He moved the whole army off to the right 17 miles to Jonesboro, evacuating the 
works about Atlanta. Our corps, the 20th, fell back to the rear. There we fortified. 
This great move was made at night. When daylight came the Rebels, as they afterwards 
told us, came over to our works and found us gone. They spread the news over the city 
and a great jollification followed saying that the Yankee army was retreating.
   But soon they heard of Sherman's army down at Jonesboro on the Macon Railroad 
south of the city. The Rebel army at once started in pursuit. General Slocum, who was 
to keep a sharp lookout, found the enemy going out of the city, ordered us on a forced 
march to Atlanta. We arrived soon after the Rebel rear guard had left. With our 
pioneer corps in advance cutting down the Abbattis and Chev-aux-de frise, opening a 
road for the troops to march thru, we were soon in the city and occupying the 
Confederate camps and fortifications. Sherman gave Hood a good thrashing and, when 
they wanted to return to Atlanta, they found to their surprise that it was occupied by 
General Slocum's Corps. Of course, that included Company G. And we feel proud that 
Company G has the honor to have been with the first Yankees to enter the city. 

CHAPTER LVI
   After besieging Atlanta for more than a month and having erected strong 
fortifications confronting it, and then in one night to withdraw all the troops from our 
works, leaving them without a Yankee in them, in my humble opinion was one of the 
greatest moves of the war. It ranked General Sherman as the greatest general of the 
war.
   The march to the city was so hard that only one or two gun stacks could be made, 
when we came to a halt, but others soon followed. After Sherman had taken possession 
of the Macon railroad, over which the Rebels had intended to run their trains, loaded 
with ammunition, they found this impossible. They started east on the Augusta 
railroad but within a few miles they found the Yankee cavalry had torn up the tracks. 
The trains returned to the city and there blew up the arsenal and every place where any 
ammunition was stored. The night of this explosion was the night prior to our entering 
into the city. Nearly every member of Company G was out on the skirmish line that 
night. We could plainly hear the explosions and see the light, making it almost as light 
as day, All their military stores were destroyed.
   We entered the city on Sunday, September 4, 1864. The siege lasted just 41 days. 
On entering the city we found the people, to protect themselves from our shells, had 
dug caves or dug-outs in their lawns and gardens, and there the women and children 
stayed nearly all the while. This was war for them to the fullest extent. We changed our 
camping grounds several times while in the city, frequently occupying the Rebel works.
   Rebel General Hood had now determined to compel Sherman to abandon Atlanta by 
marching his army north along the Nashville, Chattanooga and Atlanta Railroad and 
finally on to Nashville and Franklin, Tenn., where Pap Thomas (as he was familiarly 
called by the boys) gave Hood such a whipping as to almost destroy his army. General 
Sherman followed him as far as he thought necessary then returned to the city and 
made preparations for his wonderful "March to the Sea." And now a little of our camp 
life within the city. On Friday, October 21, our brigade of six regiments started out 
with 500 six-mule wagons after corn and forage for the animals. Passed thru Decatur, 
crossed South River and went into camp. Marched 13 miles.
   On the 22nd, the wagons were driven thru immense corn fields, from three to four 
men followed each wagon breaking off the ears in the husk, until all the wagons were 
filled, then run into park. After the wagons were loaded Captain Byers said. "Now boys, 
you may do some foraging for yourselves." Glad for the chance, we came to a log stable 
in which was a colt. He seemed very quiet and gentle. Some of the boys hooked this 
colt into an old buckboard or something of that sort, while the rest were out gathering 
chickens, ham, geese, cornmeal, sweet potatoes, and anything good to eat, with which 
to load this vehicle, so that we might get those precious things to camp without 
carrying them. The old lady of the house called to us that we had better look out. "Fur 
just down thar in the woods air our men." We told her we were after something good 
to eat and not after her men. It took but a short time to get things ready to start. The 
wagon was filled up as much as it could carry. We had also secured a yearling bull. 
Colonel Griggs, of the Company, Ed Fisher, and the writer, claimed ownership. Griggs 
put a gun sling around the little fellow's neck, by which to lead him to camp. We had 
all sorts of edibles gathered and we also felt happy that we had beef on hoof, and hoped 
to get all back to camp without much trouble to ourselves.
   The caravan was now ready to start. We wanted Yankee Garman to get on the wagon 
and drive, but we had difficulty to persuade him. He said this colt never had a harness 
on before, and the harness and wagon were in bad shape and he would not risk it. 
Yankee took the lines after while and hollered "Git up." That aroused the geese and 
chickens, and they began to flop their wings, which frightened the colt, and off he 
went, down the road, Yankee Garman holding on to the lines and running along side 
until the speed increased so much that he was compelled to drop the lines. The 
precious load was scattered along the highway about one-fourth of a mile, where the 
colt turned off into another road with only the shafts and one of the front wheels 
hanging to him. Now we began gathering up our wares. Ed Fisher and the writer 
decided to carry a goose 13 miles back to camp. Colonel Griggs, Fisher and Company 
claimed ownership of the bull. One goose and a yearling bull was all we had out of the 
entire cargo. We cared nothing for the colt, had no further use for him.  On October 
23, Sunday, we broke camp and started back to Atlanta. While marching along Griggs 
took off his cap and stooped down in front of the gentleman cow bellowing; when 
unexpectedly the little fellow was put on his metal, he bellowed in reply to Griggs, who 
was acting the fool in front of him. The bull's head went down and his tail in the air 
and he made a dive thru the company and off to the woods as fast as he could go, 
Griggs holding on as long as he could and when he left go Griggs said: "There goes my 
gun sling."
   Fisher and I held on to the goose and brought it to camp the afternoon of Monday, 
the 24th. That night we put this goose under our bed and some time after midnight 
the goose got out and started to quack and fly from one end of the tent to the other. 
We caught and tied it and on the morrow we skinned it and had a fine goose roast. We 
thought this repaid us for all our trouble. 

CHAPTER LVII
   Politics now were getting hot. Lincoln, Republican, and McClellan, Democrat, were 
candidates for president. Many were the discussions around the camp fires. We believed 
McClellan to be the man for the place and voted for him. Lincoln, however, was elected 
and his history shows was for the best of our country. Yet we always admired General 
George B. McClellan. This was our first vote and the proudest of our life. It took some 
nerve at that time to be a Democrat.
   Tuesday, November 8th, was election day. The election was held in each company at 
company headquarters. Nine polling places were in our regiment, which numbered 
perhaps three hundred and forty men. I will not comment on it. Sergeant Fred K. 
Knight was Judge of the election in our company. The names of the inspectors I have 
forgotten.
   The next morning after the election the rebels with a body of cavalry and artillery 
charged our breastworks. Ed Fisher and the writer were tenting together at this time. 
For some reason I had gotten up early and was preparing breakfast, when the first thing 
we knew a shell from a rebel battery came down our company street and exploded just 
beyond the street, near our suttler's tent. A darkey, who had been sleeping in the tent, 
came forth with his clothes in his arms going at full speed for the rear. I began putting 
away my cooking utensils, when Fisher, who was still in bed, said: "Schroyer what's 
that." I replied, that I thought we had received good news from Richmond and that 
they were firing a salute. Just then another shell landed in our company street, 
exploded and striking Isaac Reed's tent just above us, knocked a piece of board off the 
corner of it. Then Fisher jumped up with his clothes and his gun in his hand and said: 
"Like the devil, the Johnnie are coming." All rushed for our works, shooting and 
dressing at the same time. This was a laughable sight. Much more could be said.
   Companies D and C had erected a Lincoln and Johnson flag pole. When the rebels 
saw it, they directed the fire of the artillery upon it, and when it became too hot they 
hauled down the flag, when the Democrats taunted them and told them to stick to 
their colors. After the repulse of the enemy the officers interfered to keep the men 
from fighting among themselves as the result of politics.
   At the election all were required (except those voting on age) to have tax receipts. 
Jere Moyer failed to get his from home. He was not allowed to vote. Jere became very 
angry about it, and, having served Uncle Sam for over two years and a good soldier he 
was, it was a shame to deprive him of his vote. But some little fun was gotten out of it 
after all. Freddie Ulrich later on told Jere in Dutch: "Jere, ich wase now fur wos dos du 
net sthimma husht kenna."    Jere said: "Fur was?”    “I saulked der Freddie du husht 
ken sta mae ova im moul du bished stu olt.”    Un derno wor der Jere base ganunk fur 
de goys kumpany stu dresha.  
   On Friday, November 11th, we were paid eight months wages at the rate of $16.00 
per month, (this was an increase of three dollars per month over the amount received 
during 1862) which made a grand total of one hundred and twenty-eight dollars for 
each private.
   The following day all communication with the rear was broken, and Sherman's army 
stood detached and separated from all our friends in the North. The paymaster did not 
finish with the paying off of the troops and therefore, had to march with the army to 
Savannah. However, he was well guarded by a squad of cavalry. One night while 
occupying Atlanta, I cannot recall the date, the writer was detailed for picket, and was 
placed on what was called the Sandtown road. About midnight or a little after the man 
on out post called for the officer of the guard. I hurriedly went forward to inquire the 
cause for the alarm, when I was told that some one was out on the side of the road and 
wanted to come in. We had become very cautious by this time in our service and at 
once prepared to receive our midnight caller. I challenged him with who comes there? 
He at once replied, "A friend without the countersign." I said to him: "Advance." He 
came forward slowly until within reach of our bayonets, while we stood with our 
fingers on our triggers, ready to shoot. I asked who he was and he asked in return: 
"Whose troops are these?" I said: "General Geary's Division of the 20th corps." He 
said: "Thank God," and fell to the ground and said "I will tell you in a few minutes."
   He was entirely exhausted, when he reached us, and later I helped him back to the 
reserve post, of which Lieutenant Willet, of company B, had charge. We made him a 
cup of coffee and gave him crackers and whatever we had and he ate heartily. He told us 
that he was a Colonel of some Indiana regiment. (His name and the number of his 
regiment have entirely slipped my memory). And that while on a train during the 
summer coming from Chattanooga towards Atlanta, while Sherman was quite a 
distance from that city, their train was sidetracked by the rebels and all aboard were 
made prisoners. They were taken to Montgomery, Ala., by boat and while the 
steamboat was lying at the wharf for several hours, the Colonel and two other 
commissioned officers were given the privilege of the city, when they made their escape. 
They would march by night, and by day they would be hidden away and fed by the 
darkies. They inquired from these whether or not Sherman had captured Atlanta and 
some said yes, others no. Montgomery, Alabama, is about 150 miles southwest of 
Atlanta. I have forgotten the time it took him to come through. But he said he did not 
know of Sherman having captured the city until he was told of it at the picket post.

CHAPTER LVIII
   He also said the rebel cavalry got on to their trail and followed them close up to our 
picket line. The guard on post said he heard the clatter of the horse hoofs. Towards 
evening these three comrades were still together, when because of being so closely 
followed they decided to separate. After he left his comrades he heard several shots 
fired and he feared they were killed. He told us and we passed the word along the line 
to keep a sharp lookout for these two men, but we never heard from them. It was 
supposed they were killed when those two shots were fired by the cavalry.
   Next morning I was ordered to take the Colonel to General Geary's headquarters, 
which I did. He was dressed like an old Southern planter. His clothes were taken from 
him when captured with a slouch hat, and his pants were torn from Dan to Beersheba, 
so that it was necessary for him to use his frock coat to cover his nakedness. I reported 
to General Geary the name of the Colonel and the number of the regiment he 
commanded, and as General Geary extended his hand he said so you are Colonel-"Yes," 
he said, "I am, but a hard looking one I am." Geary took him into the house where he 
had his headquarters, and I returned to my post of duty. I am sorry that I have 
forgotten his name and regiment, but time (now nearly 49 years) has entirely erased it 
from my memory.
   On November 5th, Saturday, our entire army left the city, and marched south about 
two miles and encamped. Next day, Sunday, we returned to our old quarters again. We 
never knew the object of this move, and I don't suppose it mattered much whether we 
did or not. And now, as I said before, all our communications with the North were 
severed. All detachments of troops were to march rapidly to Atlanta. The work of 
destruction now began, hundreds of men were turning railroads upside down, bridges 
were burned and at night for miles and miles we could trace the course of the railroad 
by the light in the heavens made by the burning of railroad ties, bridges, stations and 
everything that might be of advantage to the rebel army. The destruction was complete. 
In the city few people remained as they had been ordered out by General Sherman 
before its capture.
   Sherman's March to the Sea began Tuesday, November 15th, 1864. Everything now 
was in readiness to have the torch applied and the city destroyed. We broke camp and 
marched out in the following order. The left wing under Major General W. W. Slocum 
composed of the 14th and 20th Corps. The 14th was commanded by Major General 
Jeff C. Davis. The 20th by Brigadier General A. S. Williams. We marched east along 
the Augusta railroad. The right wing following the railroad southeast towards 
Jonesboro, thereby threatening both Macon and Augusta and to prevent a concentration 
of the enemy at Milledgeville, then the capitol of the State and our intended 
destination, and about one hundred miles southeast from Atlanta. Kilpatrick's cavalry 
was shifted wherever it was needed.
   The troops that left the city aggregated fifty-five thousand, three hundred and 
twenty-nine infantry, five thousand and sixty-three cavalry and eighteen hundred and 
twelve artillery a total of sixty-two thousand, two hundred and four. We had in all 
about twenty-five hundred wagons, with team of six mules each, and six hundred 
ambulances, with two horses each.
   The wagon trains were divided equally between the four corps so that each had about 
eight hundred wagons, and these usually occupied on the march five miles or more of 
road. This was quite an army to march through an enemy's country, and live on the fat 
of the land. Everything that might be available to the Confederates in Atlanta was 
burned. The great depot, roundhouse and machine shops of the Georgia railroad had 
been leveled. One of these machine shops had been used by the rebels as an arsenal, and 
in it were stored piles of shot and shell, some of which proved to be loaded. The torch 
was applied by a force of men detailed for that purpose, the black smoke rising high in 
the air, and hanging like a pall over the once beautiful, but now doomed city.
   Rebel General Hood had gone North with the greater part of his army. General 
Thomas was in command of the Yankees and fell back until he reached Franklin and 
Nashville, Tenn., where Hood with his rebels were almost wiped off the face of the 
earth. Sherman's army now cut off from all communications with the North, stood 
unaided and absolutely alone in the very heart of the Confederacy. Between 200 and 
300 miles from Nashville, our base of supplies, 287 miles to Savannah, the point of 
communication on the coast, and 1,000 miles from Richmond, where General Grant 
was contending with Lee.
   Our army moved alone into the enemy's country, not knowing whither but with 
absolute confidence in "Uncle Billy." as the boys called General Sherman. Our first 
day's march we passed through the town of Decatur and encamped at Stone mountain. 
Marched 17 miles. This is indeed a stone mountain, a mass of granite on which 
scarcely a tree or shrub is to be seen. As we marched along the railroad we would halt, 
stack arms and every man would take hold of the track and turn it. Rails laid over the 
top. When thoroughly heated, they were taken off, which being nearly all cedar, would 
burn like pitch pine. At some places upside down, pile fence rails upon it, and twisted 
around trees.

CHAPTER LIX
   From day to day this destruction was continued until all bridges and railroad stations 
along the tracks were destroyed. As we looked back from our camp at Stone Mountain 
we could still see the great columns of smoke, arising from the burning city Atlanta. 
This all seemed hard but it was war, and war to the finish.
   November 16th, Wednesday, broke camp, crossed Yellow river and encamped, 
marched 15 miles. Today noon we could still see the black smoke from burning 
Atlanta.
   Thursday, November 17th. Struck tents, crossed Broad Run, then encamped, 
marched 20 miles. November 18th, Friday, broke camp, passed thru Social Circle, and 
Rutledge, encamped near Madison, marched 15 miles.
   Saturday, November l9th. Struck tents, passed thru Madison. This is a beautiful 
little town with a fine country surrounding it. Also passed Buckhead Station, and then 
encamped, marched 15 miles. Next day, Sunday, broke camp, marched to the Oconee 
river, burned the railroad bridge and destroyed the railroad, each day as we marched 
along. We encamped on the plantation of Howell Cobb, a prominent politician of the 
South and at this time a general in the Rebel army. General Sherman encamped with us 
on this plantation and while sitting on a chair with his back to the fire he noticed an 
old negro with a tallow candle in his hand, scanning him closely. Sherman inquired: 
"What do you want old man?" He answered, "Dey say you is Massa Sherman." Sherman 
assured him that such was the case, and then asked what he wanted. He only wanted to 
look at him, and then the old man kept muttering, "Dis nigger can't sleep dis night." 
Traveled 15 miles.
   Tuesday, November 22nd, struck tents, crossed Little river, passed thru 
Milledgeville, marched 15 miles. The country we passed thru from Atlanta to the State 
Capitol was as fine as any we saw south of the Mason's and Dixon's line. Abounding 
with hogs, turkeys, chickens, geese, ducks, sweet potatoes, peanuts, and everything in 
the line of edibles except ice cream. But as we had no ladies to treat, this did not matter 
so much.
   The weather was the coldest we experienced during the winter of 1864 and 1865. We 
had no overcoats, and we were a shivering army. Before we arrived at Milledgeville, the 
State Legislature of Georgia had been in session there, but when the head of Sherman's 
columns were turned in that direction, they hurriedly adjourned and struck out for 
parts unknown. Wednesday we 
remained in camp. This gave the boys a good chance of seeing the city. A goodly 
number went into the Halls of the Legislature. A speaker was elected, who called the 
senate to order. Resolutions were passed denouncing the Confederacy, the hurried 
adjournment of the Rebel Legislature, Jeff Davis, Robert E. Lee and the entire 
Confederacy, and after a number of spicy speeches had been delivered, they adjourned 
to meet at the call of the chair.
   Our entrance into Milledgeville was at night about ten o'clock. We saw little of the 
town until next day. Whenever we went to camp before dark, our bands would begin to 
play, and as soon as the darkies on nearby plantations would hear the music, we could 
see men, women and children coming across he fields from every direction. When the 
band would strike up some lively piece, the darkies, from the old gray haired men and 
women, down to the pickaninnies, who were clouts, would begin swinging to and fro, 
and want to dance.
   Whenever we had time, several end boards of wagons were taken off and while 
someone would sing and keep time and pat, the fun would begin and they would dance 
until the sweat was rolling down their black faces. Each one was anxious to show how 
well he could move, and all wanted to so badly that one could scarcely wait for the 
other to finish. Finally, when one old fellow could stand the pressure no longer he said: 
"Luff dis nigger dance dis nigger u'll make de dus fly," and he sure was a good one. And 
we were all like the Dutchman said: "He laffed, un he laffed, bis he couldn't laff any 
more, den he layed down on his sthomack un laffed some more."
   These were certainly joyful times. Our marching columns covered about 50 miles 
front. The four corps were 10 miles apart, and the cavalry on the flanks about five 
miles from the infantry. Foraging squads were sent out each day to bring supplies for 
those in the marching column. The whole country was being scoured for provisions.
   One day we discovered a fine lot of hams in some chaff in a barn. These were 
distributed to those in the detail to carry to camp. Jim Ulrich was given a fine ham and 
when we neared the camp we found he had traded the ham off for tobacco, which trade 
cut a number short on their ham ration.
 
CHAPTER LX
   Thursday, November 24th, struck tents, left camp at Milledgeville and again marched 
east in the direction of Millen, at which place was a rebel prison pen. It was Sherman's 
March   to the Sea that closed Andersonville and Millen, two of the worst prisons in 
the South. Marched 10 miles and encamped.
   Friday, November 25th. Marched eight miles and encamped.
   Saturday, November 26th, broke camp marched thru Sandersville, a fine little town, 
and passed Tennile Station, marched 13 miles and encamped.
   Sunday, November 27th, struck tents, destroyed about four miles of railroad, 
crossed the Connouchee river, passed thru Davisboro and encamped, marched about 10 
miles.
   Monday, 28th. We destroyed the railroad near Davisboro and we were so long 
delayed in our work of destruction that we encamped near our old camp of the day 
before.
   Tuesday, November 29th, broke camp, passed Spiers Station, marched 15 miles and 
encamped.
   Wednesday, 30th, struck tents, crossed the Ogeechee river and encamped, traveled 
eight miles.
   Thursday, December 1st. Today we marched about 10 miles and encamped.
   Friday, December 2nd, struck tents, marched 10 miles and encamped.
   Saturday, December 3rd, broke camp, marched all day and all night. Crossed the 
Augusta railroad, which we tore up. This destruction of railroad and crossing swamps 
kept us busy. We were nearing the Millen Prison pen and our cavalry had a fight at this 
place with the rebels, defeating them and driving them away. Our soldiers, who had 
been confined in Millen and in Andersonville, had been removed before we were able to 
rescue them. Some of Company G boys had gone to see the stockades around the 
Millen prison, as our line of march was only about two miles from it.
   Sunday, December 4th, marched six miles and encamped.
   Monday, December 5th, struck tents, marched about 13 miles. Our entire regiment 
was placed on picket. We were now nearing the Savannah river, and a great deal was 
talked about as to where and when we would strike it. One day as we marched along the 
boys again said something about the Savannah river, when Jere Moyer said: "Ich mane 
mere setta boll on seller ferdifelder Susquehannah river cumma."  
   Tuesday, December 6th. Today we traveled about 10 miles, and after going into 
camp a lot of peanuts were brought into the shelter tents, fires were built for cooking 
coffee, the peanuts were emptied along the fire to roast, and we all partook heartily. 
But Freddie Ulrich seemed to have gotten an overdose. After a while Freddie began to 
moan and groan, and asked his brother Jim to go for a doctor. This Jim did, and when 
the doctor came he gave him some medicine, but Freddie had no relief. He told Jim to 
go for another doctor and this he kept up until five doctors were called. The writer 
went to tell Captain Byers of Freddie's illness, and he at once went to see him, and 
found Freddie crawling around in the grass. The captain, of course, sympathized with 
him, telling him that no doubt the peanuts had caused his trouble. Freddie said: "No it 
wasn't the peanuts." The captain went away, saying Freddie won't die yet, he's too 
contrary.
   Wednesday, December 7th. Today we marched 12 miles to Springfield.
   Thursday, December 8th, broke camp, passed thru Springfield and encamped traveled 
12 miles.
   Friday, December 9th, marched only five miles.
   Saturday, December 10th, traveled 15 miles.
   Sunday, December 11, struck tents. Today we had our first sight of the much talked 
of Savannah river. We marched about three and a half miles, and halted about three 
miles from the city of Savannah. Then began the erection of breastworks. I will write 
about the siege and capture of the city later, as I want to relate some of the incidents 
which happened on this march from Atlanta to Savannah.
   When we left Atlanta the boys were in high spirits, having all the confidence in our 
grand old Commander General William T. Sherman. Some band by accident on leaving 
the city played "John Brown's Soul Goes Marching On." The men caught up the strain, 
and never was the chorus of "Glory, Glory, Hallelulah!" given with more spirit, and 
more harmony than at this time.
   The corps moved out on parallel roads and as near as possible ten miles apart. Each 
corps was to march a certain number of miles each day. Signal stations were placed 
upon elevations, and the general advised every evening of their camping grounds. After 
leaving the rolling or mountainous country, and getting down into the level country 
some distance south of Milledgeville, rockets were used to designate the camping 
grounds of the different forces.
   With each column traveled about eight hundred wagons and ambulances, and these 
usually on the march occupied five miles or more of the road. About 900 feet of 
pontoons with canvas covered boats were distributed with each corps. A regular 
pontoon train had charge of these boats. Coming to a stream or swamp, the men in 
charge would put down a bridge ready to move troops, wagons and artillery over it 
without the rear of the marching column knowing anything about it until they arrived 
at the bridge. 

CHAPTER LXI
   We passed some of the most beautiful homes between Atlanta and Milledgeville, 
where the old Southern planters lived like kings, and where the slaves in many cases 
seemed to have good homes provided for them. Their houses were generally one and a 
half stories high, built upon a nice street and not so far from the planter's own home. 
Here an overseer was placed over these poor people. Here too families were separated. 
These unfortunate people were placed upon the auction block and sold like cattle in the 
market and a slave's great dread was that of being sold and sent to Mississippi. We 
cannot realize the heart aches and fears when father or mother was separated from their 
families.
   How happy these people were when Sherman's army arrived, and they came to meet 
the Lincum's, as they called us. One old gray headed fellow said: "Thank the Lord. 
Thank the Lord, uens was a long time a comin' but you came at last." These poor slaves 
could not realize what freedom was. They had an idea that freedom consisted of lying 
down on the sunny side of a barn and kicking up their heels.
   The calaboose or jail was a small one-story building where the darkies were placed 
when they had committed any offence. Here they received their punishment, which 
consisted of whatever the overseer saw fit to give them.
   The picking of 40 pounds of cotton was considered a day's work. Whatever number 
of pounds they lacked, they received for each a lash. The funniest freak of nature we 
ever saw, was a family of some eight or nine children black as tar with red hair. The 
mother had black hair but the father we did not see. We found a slave pen with about 
300 colored people, men, women, and children, who had been imported shortly before 
our arrival. We could not understand a word they said. These were to be sold at auction 
soon, but Sherman's army put a stop to the sale and many of them went with us on the 
march.
   When the army arrived at Savannah, it was said that 12,000 darkies, who had left 
their masters, were with our corps. These were sent to the government rice fields at 
Beaufort, South Carolina. We marched along a pike between Milledgeville and 
Savannah. The mile posts had strokes or niches cut in the posts side by side so the 
darkies could tell how many miles they had traveled.
   Every regiment was supposed to send out 50 men each to do the foraging 
(remember, not stealing but foraging) for the balance of the marching column. This 
had to be done under a competent officer. The camping place for the night was made 
known to the officer before starting on this very risky business, and many were 
captured by the enemy. The rebel cavalry were close by us all the while, in the advance 
of us and in the rear.
   We had to have a rear guard with several pieces of artillery and in this manner they 
would follow us until we encamped for the night. We were all cautioned not to wander 
away from our commands as many stragglers were picked up by the enemy and never 
heard from again. Company G lost none and none were sick on this entire march of 
287 miles.
   The foragers would bring in turkeys, geese, chickens, and everything that was good to 
eat and plenty of it. Nearly every one of us had a live rooster strapped upon his back, 
and of all the rooster fights! As soon as we halted a few moments the roosters would 
have to come down from their perches (the knapsacks) and fight. As soon as the bugles 
sounded the forward the game cocks were gathered up and placed upon the knapsacks 
again, when it was amusing to see them flap their wings and crow, for they seemed to 
enjoy it as well as we did.
   On the march Captain Watson, of the 66th Ohio regiment, also a brigade staff 
officer, stopped at a small house along the road and upon entering found two men of 
the 5th Ohio regiment standing beside a bed upon which lay a sick old man. Beside the 
bed was a small table upon which was his medicine. These two inhuman wretches had 
nearly filled a tumbler with the different medicines, and were trying to force the poor 
sick man to take it. Just then the Captain came upon them and placed them under 
arrest. The writer with a guard took them in charge and reported to General Geary, 
when we encamped in the evening. What was done with them I don't know. The captain 
said: "If I ever find anything as cruel as that again I will shoot the parties committing 
the outrage."
   Some distance below Millegeville we struck the low and sandy part of Georgia. This 
part of the country has many swamps. These had to be waded or pontooned, and 
oftentimes we had to cross after night. We were right in the heart of the pine forest. 
Pine knots were gathered and fastened on a stick and set on fire. These gave us light in 
crossing and made it a first class torch light procession. In many places the roads were 
very bad, it required corduroying. This was done by cutting sapplings and getting fence 
rails and throwing them across the road, without any ground thrown on. Then the "Git 
up" of the drivers and the teams passed over. 

CHAPTER LXII
   In crossing the swamp in the evening the teams forded; along side was a foot-log 
with a railing on it. We dreaded to get wet, so the boys tried to get over dryshod on the 
foot-log. About the center of the crossing, the rebels had torn out the length of a log. 
The head of our regiment started out, and in a short time the log was filled up when 
the column stopped moving. The rear ones yelled, "Forward. What's the matter? Go 
ahead." Finally the colonel rode in to see what was wrong and to urge the boys forward. 
When he got there he saw what the trouble was, and urged us forward into the swamp.
   We waded across alongside the wagons, and when we got out to where the bridge had 
been separated, we had lots of fun watching the fellows at the end of the log, which was 
about three feet above water and the water about three feet deep. The crowd came 
pushing forward, not knowing what was in store for them, but when the fellow at the 
end of the log had no way of getting back as the order was "forward", and when he 
jumped into the water nearly every one fell into the water and was entirely immersed. 
But
before jumping off each fellow had a little speech to make. When it was finished 
another man was there to say his speech. We, who waded, were pretty well soaked while 
the log travelers were wet from head to foot. The ones in the water hardly had time to 
get away before the next fellow jumped down beside him.
   Hundreds of cattle were taken from plantations and driven along the line of march, 
but these had to be driven off the road on account of giving the troops and wagon 
trains the right of way. Many perished in crossing the swamps. They would sink into 
the mud, some entirely disappearing, others only partly under water, some with their 
heads above water. These we left to drown or starve. We had no way of getting them 
out.
   We wore the forage or scull cap and on it was a white star designating the second 
division of the 20th corps, also G. 147 P. V. I. in brass letters. Jerre Moyer started out 
for water. He found a well surrounded with a lot of thirsty boys, but he managed to get 
near enough to dip his coffee kettle into the bucket when it was drawn out of the well. 
Just then a soldier reached over his head for water, shoved Jerre's cap off, and it fell 
into the well. He came back to the company a-tearing and a-swearing, and meeting 
Freddie Ulrich, his old messmate who always carried an extra hat, said to him: "Fret 
gep mere di hute. A dunnerser sird brigade feller srowed my hat in de brunna. I wouden 
care for de hat ovver de nummers."  
   In the pine forest we burned a large resin and turpentine factory and the whole 
heavens were black with smoke for several days. It looked as if a great storm was 
brewing. For the safety of our foragers and those who might wander away from the 
marching columns every precaution was taken. The different corps had their corps 
badge marked on trees every mile or two. The 20th corps with XX, the 14th with XIV 
and so on. Any one getting on the roads over which the troops had passed could readily 
know what troops had marched over the road.
   At the crossing of a large swamp an alligator was killed, which was said to have 
measured 10 feet. The Company boys went to see him. A Dutchman cut a piece out of 
the alligator weighing perhaps three pounds. It looked nice and white like the bosom of 
a chicken. He said: "Dos iss gute. Dos nem ich un kochs un es ich."    We thought as 
far as we were concerned he was welcome to the carcass.

A Battle That Was Never Fought
   Going into camp one afternoon towards evening, an orderly from General Geary's 
headquarters was sent around to notify all the orderly sergeants of every company in 
the White Star division to come to the General's headquarters, that a man had been 
found at a mill, who had been shot and they wanted to identify him. He was dressed in 
our uniform and had a white star on his cap. He was not identified.
   Sergeant F. H. Knight was then orderly sergeant of company K, and while away his 
messmate, Sergeant John R. Reigle put up his tent too close to the writer's fire and 
Sergeant Knight's tent was burned. When he returned and the story was told him he 
put on his war paint and said: "Unless you furnish me with a new piece of tent I will 
take it out of your hide." I laughed in my sleeve, and he continued to get hotter and 
hotter. But finally matters were adjusted and we were ever after and to this day the best 
of friends. At our (Company G) bean soup picnics, he often refers to the burning of 
the tent and says that if he had gotten just a little madder at that time Schroyer would 
not be here to attend Company G picnics.
   I failed to say that before leaving Atlanta, Corporal J. A. Lumbard was promoted to 
take charge of the brigade commissary guards, a position he held to the close of the 
war. John Stuck and John Reed got into a quarrel about a piece of ham that the 
foragers had brought in. They brandished their knives and threatened to stab each 
other, when Ed Fisher, getting scared, told the writer that he was going to tell Captain 
Byers about the fight, that he believed that they would kill each other. The captain 
replied: "These fellows are always growling, now let them fight it out." Ed came back 
and to his surprise he found everything quiet and Stuck and Reed were enjoying the 
ham at their evening meal. 

CHAPTER LXIlI
In Front of Savannah, Georgia, December 12, 1864
   Savannah is a beautiful city, located on the west side of a river by the same name. 
The city was well fortified. The positions of our troops, which completely invested the 
city, were as follows: The 14th corps on the left, touching the river; the 20th corps 
next; then the 17th and the 15th on the extreme right. To the left and rear of us was 
an island, behind which several Rebel gunboats were hidden and which made things 
very unpleasant for us, for we had our hands full to look to the front. The 
fortifications around the city were fine, equipped with 64 and 100 pound cannons and 
when they belched forth the very earth trembled.
   We kept on getting closer and closer and building our works stronger and stronger. 
Rebel General Wm. J. Hardee had command of the city. On Tuesday, December 13, 
Fort McAllister on the right of our line, was assaulted by General Hazen's Division of 
the 15th corps. The fort was carried, and soon after this communications were opened 
with our friends in the North. November 15 we left Atlanta, cut off from all 
communication with our friends. The Rebel papers had reported us to be harassed, 
defeated, starving, and fleeing for safety to the coast.
   How different the day, December 14! Fort McAllister was ours. Two gunboats on 
the Savannah were destroyed. Sherman's Army had destroyed over 200 miles of 
railroads and consumed stores and provisions intended for Lee's army at Richmond. 
We lost not a wagon on the trip, but gathered horses, mules and Negroes by the 
hundred. We think this one of the remarkable marches on record. The estimated 
population of Savannah was 25,000 and the garrison 15,000. General Hardee 
commanding.
   One evening while in the breastworks P. R. Hoffer and some one else of the 
company, whom I have forgotten, were detailed to fetch from the butchers a quarter of 
beef for Company G. They carried it between them on a stick on their shoulders. When 
they reached the right of the regiment a shell thrown from a Rebel battery, exploded 
near them and a piece of the shell cut off the bone just under the stick the beef falling 
to the ground. They were considerably excited and leaving the beef lying in the sand 
came to the company to tell what a narrow escape they made, then returned for the 
meat.
   On Wednesday December 18 the first mail went out since November 12 at Atlanta. 
We were paid off before leaving Atlanta and this was the first opportunity we had for 
sending home our money The money was sent to Mr. George Schnure and Col. Henry 
C. Eyer both of Selinsgrove, to be distributed by them to our different friends. There 
were no ladies along our line of march, no ice cream saloons nor candy stores, therefore 
we had about as much money as when we started on the campaign.
   On the night of December 19, Monday, everything was ready for the assault on the 
Rebel forts during the night, and some of the troops already beyond our breastworks. 
It was a cold night and our skirmishers reported the Rebels up and around their fires. 
This caused a countermand of the orders to assault and the boys were mighty glad.
   The Rebels evacuated the city on the night of December 20. Tuesday crossing the 
river into South Carolina on pontoon bridges our division was the first to discover the 
retreat and we at once moved forward and entered the city about daylight on the 21st. 
General Geary being the first to enter was made Military Governor and his troops were 
marched to the United States barracks, where the General made a speech to us. From 
here we were taken up Bull street (the principal street of the city) and were encamped 
in Madison square.
   We remained here until Monday the 26th, when only our regiment camped in the 
park. We were moved into the beautiful city park which was surrounded by a high iron 
fence and a fine large fountain was in the centre. Here we were ordered to build winter 
  quarters and make ourselves comfortable. The writer with a number of Company G 
boys whose names I can not recall was detailed for duty at General Slocum's 
headquarters. (General Slocum you will remember commanded the left wing of 
Sherman's army as we marched thru Georgia.) Our duty was to patrol Bull street and 
also to notify all citizens to keep in doors and close all doors and shutters on their 
houses.
   December 22 Thursday General Sherman and staff entered the city and rode down 
Bull street to the custom house. This was done for the General's safety as he made his 
visit into the city. We found everything quiet wherever we went. While on guard in the 
park Admiral Dahlgreen and General Sherman, in the presence of the writer came into 
the park with linked arms and sat down and were talking when two little girls the one 
about 10 or 12 years of age and the other about three came to where they were sitting. 
General Sherman drew the larger one to him and asked her where she lived and what 
her name was and then kissed her, and taking the smaller one on his knee kissed her 
also, then handed both to Admiral Dahlgreen and told him to kiss them, which he 
seemed to be delighted to do. Then General Sherman said: "Now girls when you go 
home to your mama you tell her that Admiral Dahlgreen and General Sherman kissed 
you both." When the girls had gone away they both had a hearty laugh.
   The following telegram explains itself:

          Savannah, Ga. Dec. 22 1864
To His Excellency, President Lincoln Washington D. C.
  I beg to present you as a Christmas gift the City of Savannah. with one hundred and 
fifty heavy guns and plenty of ammunition also about twenty-five thousand bales of 
cotton.
     "W. T Sherman Major General."

   The 147th regiment, of which Company G was a part, can well feel proud of the 
humble part they took in the capture of the city of Savannah.
   We had no picket duty to do while in the city because guarding and patrolling kept 
us busy. The city is beautifully laid out. Some streets have two driveways and a railroad 
in the center with four rows of beautiful live oak trees. The weather from the middle of 
December, 1864 until January 27, 1865 the time of our leaving was fine. Ladies would 
come out to the park carrying parasols while the North had the coldest kind of 
weather. Only once during the winter we saw a few flying snow flakes. Generals 
Sherman, Howard and Slocum had their headquarters on Bull street. The bands would 
serenade these places frequently. 

CHAPTER LXIV
   Some wag got together about 80 or 90 of the boys equipped with jews harps, violins, 
cornstalk fiddles, tin horns, triangles and any and everything to make a noise. The 
commander had the boys fall in, right dressed counted off in fours, right faced and 
forward down Bull street to General Sherman's headquarters. The General and his staff 
were sitting on the front porch. The commander with a baton in his hand called halt! 
Front! Right dress! Front! He then stepped to the front and center and in imitation of 
a band leader with perhaps a few more curlicues he made use of his baton in grand 
style. At a certain signal all began the twistification and such a noise you never heard 
even outdoing the calithumpians of a Snyder county wedding.
   A great crowd had gathered on the street: everybody enjoyed it and it made all feel 
happier. General Sherman and staff were more than pleased and when the performance 
was over the commander and the boys looked as sober as judges. The command was 
given Salute! Then in four ranks right face, forward march! The General and his staff 
clapped their hands as long as they were in sight.
   Across the river east of the city was South Carolina, with its great rice plantations 
probably six or eight miles long by two or three wide. Up the river about four miles 
flood gates were placed along the river for the purpose of overflowing these rice tracts. 
It was said our first division crossed over the river one afternoon and when all were 
over the Rebels opened the flood gates and soon the rice plantations were covered with 
from four to six inches of water. It was necessary to send an armed force up to the 
flood gates and close them up but this required time and night coming on they did not 
get there until next morning. And the best thing the division could do was to stand 
there all night in the water.
   The Savannah River was blocked to prevent our gunboats from coming up. The 
Rebels had placed torpedoes all along in the stream. Sherman took some prisoners that 
knew all about the location of the torpedoes. He placed these prisoners on our boats 
and had them pilot the boats and point out where the torpedoes were. They used what 
was called devil catchers which contrivance was placed on the bow of the boat extending 
under water and reaching in front raised the torpedoes. We saw them as they were 
placed upon the land.
   In a very short time these obstructions were removed and steamers came up from 
New York and Philadelphia loaded with provisions and clothing and also brought 
papers from the North which we were glad to receive to learn what had been doing 
since we left Atlanta November 15. We had not seen a Northern paper since then.
   During our stay here two of our boys, Edward Fisher and Calvin E. Parks were 
promoted to orderlies on the staff of General Ario Pardee commanding the first 
brigade of Geary's White Star Division. This was quite an honor to Company G and 
especially so to Parks and Fisher.
   A number of our boys were up the river guarding the rice mills which our army put 
into operation. During the siege of Savannah rice sold at $1 a pint. As our 
communications had not yet been opened we had no way of securing rations. After the 
city fell into our hands, we got along pretty well. Oysters were plentiful and a detail 
from Company G was made to go down the river to a place called Thunderbolt, where 
there was an oyster bed. The boat was loaded and the oysters issued to the boys. We 
had salt and pepper. Butter cost us $l.25 per pound, eggs 65 cents per dozen. We 
certainly enjoyed a change of diet. Salaratus was used in place of baking soda, for 
baking corn bread, and as much as we used to get at home for three cents we paid one 
dollar for in Savannah. 
   A large bakery was opened by a Dutchman on McCallister street, and this bread was 
sold, baked in one pan, sixteen loaves for one dollar. I think 1,000 of these pans were 
baked each day. Only one dollars worth was sold to a mess. To get bread the crowd 
would gather at the bakery as early as two and three o'clock in the morning. The bakery 
door would not be thrown open before six o'clock A. M. and such a rush you never saw. 
At the door guards were stationed with fixed bayonets, and they permitted the boys to 
pass in as fast as they could be served.
   Our company generally was successful in getting a number of dollars worth, then in 
camp we divided with the rest of the hungry ones. One day Freddie Ulrich was coming 
along the iron fence surrounding the park, and which was at the foot of our company 
street, when someone of the company yelled out: "Rush on the Dutch baker!" Everyone 
started for Freddie, downed him and trampled him until finally he managed to get his 
head under the iron fence, and he always claims that the fence saved him from having 
"the blamed fools tramp him to death."
   Ed R. Smith, one of the drafted men of the company, who had been imbibing too 
much calamity juice, was taken in the city, and when he got back to camp he told of 
some of his exploits, which interested the boys very much. Among other things he said 
he had met General Sherman and the General talked to him. Someone asked what did 
he say to you? Smith said that the General saw that he was politely inebriated and said 
to him that if he did not get off the pavement he would kick him off.

CHAPTER LXV
   The time in Savannah passed rapidly away and we left the city with many regrets. 
Sherman's army was again ready to move. Clothing was supplied for all our wants. Our 
wagon trains were filled with rations for men and horses for a certain number of days.
   On Monday, January 23rd, 1865, a division of the l9th corps from the army of the 
Potomac took our place in the city. On the 26th, orders were issued stating that the 
army would move the
next morning, Friday, January 27th, 1865. This proved to be Sherman's last campaign, 
and a very successful one it was. We left the city with banners flying, bands playing and 
the men everywhere cheering and all seeming anxious to cross the Savannah river into 
South Carolina, the hotbed of secession, and where the first hostile shot was fired 
upon that dear old Flag we all love so much.
   We marched by the river and along the Charleston and South Carolina railroad for 
12 miles and encamped. On the 28th we continued our march up the river, traveling 11 
miles.
   On the 29th, Sunday, struck tents, marched 10 miles and encamped. Here we 
remained until February 4th, Saturday. Owing to much rain the streams were swollen 
everywhere. Crossed the river at Sisters' Ferry, traveled about three miles and 
encamped. One of our iron clad gun boats was brought up the river and stationed here 
to protect the pontoon bridge and the men while crossing into South Carolina.
   Here Lieutenant B. T. Parks returned to the company after an absence of six months, 
owing to a gun shot wound received at Kenesaw mountain, Georgia, in July, 1864, the 
ball having passed
thru his head, striking near his right eye, and coming out near his left ear. He lost the 
hearing of one ear, also the sight of one eye. When he left us we never expected him to 
return. We were all overjoyed to have him with us again, for I know that every man in 
Company G had a great, big warm spot in his heart for our brave little lieutenant. 
When he was wounded he was taken back to the hospital at Nashville, Tennessee, and 
while convalescing he was placed in command of the military detective force of the city. 
He also was volunteer aid upon the staff of General Miller, and as aid he participated 
in the battles of Nashville and Franklin. He came on, traveling about 1,800 miles to 
join his old company and do his part in the closing days of the war. Who among us 
would have done as well as he?
   When we had reached the South Carolina side of the river, General Geary rode along 
the marching column and said: "Boys, are you well supplied with matches, as we are 
now in South Carolina." It was not necessary for the General to remind the boys of 
this fact.
   February 5, broke camp, passed thru Robertsville, South Carolina, and encamped, 
marched six miles. On the 6th, Monday, struck tents, marched about 13 miles and 
encamped. A great deal of corduroy road had to be made for the troops and wagon 
trains to pass over owing to the wet season and the many streams and swamps. The 
Rebels had put down some corduroy roads, and had placed torpedoes in them and a 
goodly number of these exploded, when our troops and wagon trains were passing over, 
killing many horses and men. General Kilpatrick had captured large droves of cattle, so 
to insure the safety of the men these cattle were driven ahead of the marching troops, 
and wherever a torpedo was    touched the cattle were blown up, thus saving men and 
horses. February 7, marched six miles and encamped at Poolsville. Wednesday, 8th, 
struck tents, crossed Big Saltkahatchie Swamp and encamped at Beaufort bridge, 
traveled about 12 miles.
   Thursday, February 19, struck tents, marched along the Charleston and Savannah 
Railroad, destroying railroad, railroad bridges and everything that might be of any 
value to the Confederates. Encamped at Blackville, marched 12 miles. Friday, February 
10. From this place the company and regiment went out on a foraging expedition, and 
it was amazing to see how expert the men had become in this branch of their business, 
for in returning to camp they had a bountiful supply of all the country afforded.   
South Carolina was now feeling the heavy hand of war. We marched inland from the 
Atlantic coast from 60 to 90 miles, and a scope of country about fifty miles wide was 
made desolate waste by our army of 60 or 65,000 men. As a general thing the 
destroying of private property was done by bummers and not by the regiment 
commands. The latter looked after railroads, bridges, and any and everything else that 
might be a benefit to the Confederates, which were destroyed without ceremony. I have 
seen where families were driven out of their homes and their houses burned to the 
ground. In starting out on the march in the morning you might look in almost any 
direction and see smoke ascending, from the destruction of property and as the 
innocent had to suffer with the guilty South Carolina got her full share.

CHAPTER LXVI
   Saturday, February 11th, we left camp at Blackville, crossed the Edisto river, and 
encamped, marched 9 miles.
   February 12th, Sunday. As soon as we left our camp this morning we met quite a 
large body of the enemy. A lively skirmish commenced and kept up all day and night, 
when the rebels retreated, marched 13 miles and encamped.
   On the 13th, still driving the rebels before us, we marched five miles.
   On the 14th we marched eight miles and encamped.
   February 15th we were still driving the enemy's skirmishers, encamped near 
Lexington, traveled 10 miles.
   Thursday, 17th, left camp, marched six miles and encamped near the Santee river. 
Here a lively skirmish was had with the Johnnies but they were soon defeated. The city 
of Columbia, State capitol of South Carolina, was destroyed by fire. We did not get 
into the city but passed on to the left of it. We were only a few miles away. Much 
property was destroyed.
   Saturday, February 18th, we crossed the Saluda river, marched 10 miles. Sunday, 
February l9th, broke camp, marched only five miles. It may seem strange to the reader 
why such a short distance was traveled some days. The reason was at nearly every 
swamp and river the rebels had barricaded the crossings and we had often to march 
several miles around to get into their rear. And the building of corduroy roads and the 
laying of pontoon bridges consumed much time. The enemy hung close to our front 
and rear, and foraging had become very dangerous. Six of our men had been caught and 
hanged on trees. This was supposed to have been the work of Rebel General Wheeler's 
Cavalry. In marching, the rear of our columns were closely followed by the Johnnies 
even up to our going into camp. A heavy guard and several pieces of artillery always 
brought up the rear.
   Monday, February 20th, left camp, crossed the Congaree river, and the branch 
railroad running to Spartansburg, traveled eight miles and bivouacked.
   February 21st, marched thru Winnsboro and encamped, traveled 12 miles. After 
going to camp at this place the writer, JERE APP, and several other members of 
Company G were sent out by order of General Slocum to guard a planter's place. When 
we arrived we found a 15th corps man, who had captured a horse, and the horse was 
loaded down with turkeys which he had killed. We made him drop all and leave, which 
he did very reluctantly. This planter had a large and beautiful plantation and a large 
number of slaves.
   We looked out for ourselves first, then for the slaves, not caring much for the 
planter. The darkey women roasted the turkeys that night and if ever we had our fill of 
turkey it was then and there. The day before we reached Winnsboro Joseph S. Ulsh, of 
Company G, had been out foraging and when quite near our camp, some 15th corps 
boys overtook him, made him get off the mule and they took everything he had, and 
when he protested, they threatened to give him a first-rate trouncing if he did not 
leave. Poor Joe came to camp very much disheartened and the rest of his mates, the 
writer being one, had nothing to eat for supper, and that's why the fellow of the 15th 
had to drop the turkeys, although no doubt innocent of taking anything from Ulsh.
   The crossing of the river by the whole army took about two days, and we were 
brought into town to await our turn in crossing. We stacked our arms in one of the 
streets, there quietly waiting to hear the command to cross the river. While in this 
position a fire threatened the destruction of the whole town.
   Our colonel ordered us to do what we could to prevent the flames from spreading. 
The writer and a number of Company G boys at this time were trying to save a house 
near where our guns were stacked. The house was occupied by two women, and, when 
we
were working on the shed roof over the kitchen, one of them came out of the house, 
carrying a few things, when one said: "The Yankees set the town on fire, but, thank 
God, if we die we
die in a good cause." This remark raised the Dutch blood of Company G, and we threw 
our bucket down into the garden and told them if they wished to die in their good 
cause they were at liberty to do so. We left, and their house was destroyed.
   When nearing the regiment word came that Sergeant Major Isaac D. Witmer had 
been shot. He had always been a favorite with all the boys of Company G, and only an 
hour or two before the shooting we had gathered in a little group and were talking 
about
the closing of the war and of going home to our loved ones. All seemed so happy. 
When suddenly the sad news reached us of his being dead. This cast a heavy gloom 
upon Company G. We knew him to be a good jovial fellow, and a first class and brave 
soldier, who was beloved by all.
   Only a few days before good water was scarce, but near General Geary's headquarters 
there was a beautiful spring, where all could have quenched their thirst but a guard was 
placed over it and none was allowed to get water. Now came our time. One of Geary's 
headquarter guards got about half a bag of sweet potatoes. When I saw him I said to 
him: "Drop those potatoes!" He said they were for General Geary. As we had been 
placed on guard by General Slocum, we told him it mattered not who they were for, he 
should drop them. He refused to do it. The guard was ordered to prime and when he 
saw this, he said: "Don't shoot, I will leave them." and he did. This was another 
squaring of an account. 
   We had long talks with the darkey women at night in their huts, while they prepared 
our turkeys. One of the women was not as black as most of them. She told us how 
their masters and mistresses would abuse them. She showed us her arms, where her 
master had beaten her with a rod, and there were large welts on her body. This poor 
slave was about 30 years of age. When she finished telling us of the cruelty of her 
master, her mother, who  was sitting by, said: "Ole Massa and Mistress, dey go into de 
house, dey get down on their knees and pray to the good Lord, den dey come out and 
lick de niggers. Da'll all go to hell, sure."
   Oh, how glad they were to hear of their freedom! They would sing and they would 
pray and cheer for "de Lincums." The guard after hearing the above story and many 
more, cared very little as to how it went with the masters and their plantations.
   Feb. 22-Marched only six miles, rain drenching us from head to foot. 
   Feb. 23-Struck tents, crossed the Cataba River, marched 14 miles. But the rain 
continued, and we were all soaking wet. Feb. 24-Broke camp, marched five miles. Feb. 
25-Did not move, owing to high streams from the heavy rains. Sunday, 26-We 
marched seven miles. Monday, 27-Traveled three miles and encamped. 

CHAPTER LXVII
   On these marches the boys would shoot all the bloodhounds whenever and wherever 
they were found, as these dogs were used for trailing Negroes who had escaped.
   Tuesday, 28th, struck tents, crossed Linche's Creek, marched six miles. The roads 
were so bad that nearly every foot of the way had to be corduroyed. Continuous rains 
had swollen the swamps and river, and made the roads almost impassable. We were 
right in the midst of the alligator country, and everybody was talking alligator. One 
evening we had gone into camp a little early upon nice, level land, and about a half-mile 
away a group of soldiers were gathered. We were just getting our suppers, when some 
one passed the word around that the party of men we saw had just captured a large 
alligator.
   Well, such a rush as we had. Nearly our whole brigade started out. General Geary's 
headquarters were along the road and the general and his staff, who were just eating 
their suppers, came out of their tents and asked what was the excitement. The answer 
was an alligator. They joined us and went along with the exception of the General 
himself. This was a forced march and when we got there we found it to be a fake. When 
we passed headquarters on our return, the General came to the front of his tent and 
said: "Well, boys, did you see the alligator?" and laughed heartily about it. Some 
thought he knew all about the joke. We saw several alligators, which had been caught 
and killed, but saw no live ones.
   February 29, all day, we remained in camp, owing to the rain and bad roads. While 
the people of the North were enjoying their good homes and warm beds. Company G, 
with thousands of others were wading in the Southland thru mud and swamps without 
a stitch of dry clothing to our backs, not for a day only but for weeks at a time. We 
never experienced harder times than we did while out in the army. And all was done 
that this Nation might live.
   Wednesday, March 1, broke camp, marched 10 miles and bivouacked. March 2, today 
we marched six miles. March 3, Friday, broke camp, marched 14 miles and encamped 
near Chesterfield court house, March 4, left camp near Chesterfield court house, 
marched nine miles. Sunday, 5th, remained in camp.
   Monday, March 6, marched thru Cheraw and crossed the great Pedee River, traveled 
18 miles. Today we crossed the State line into North Carolina. A great amount of 
goods was sent by the Rebels to Cheraw from Charleston and other coast towns for 
safe keeping, never perhaps thinking that Sherman's army would pass that way. 
Twenty-four cannon, 2,000 muskets, and 3,600 barrels of gun powder were found 
here. By accident or carelessness the powder was exploded, which killed and wounded a 
number of men.
   Here we received a ration of sturgeon. This was out of the ordinary but it had been 
captured among other Confederate supplies, and then issued to the boys. Our outdoor 
exercise had been first class and as you know the doctors always say that it aids 
digestion, we got away with it without any bad results.
   Tuesday, March 7, struck tents, bugles sounded the forward call and we put in 
another day's march thru the rain and mud, marched 13 miles. On the 8th, left camp, 
crossed railroad below Rockingham, marched 10 miles and encamped. On the 9th, 
traveled nine miles, on the 10th, only three miles. Saturday, March 11, struck tents, 
crossed Little Pedee River and encamped. Traveled 10 miles.
   Sherman keeps pushing the Rebels, and we march to Fayetteville and encamp. All the 
army corps had concentrated at Fayetteville. The 14th corps was the first to enter the 
town and took possession of the arsenal, etc. Here Sherman first came in 
communication with the outside world, having left Savannah, Georgia, on January 27, 
just 45 days. After this the army was in daily communication with the North.
   The four corps and cavalry crossed Cape Fear River at this place, having only one 
pontoon bridge. General Joe Johnson was now in command of the Rebel forces and we 
had more or less skirmishing every day. Late in the afternoon of March 13, Monday, 
we were marched into the town of Fayetteville.

CHAPTER LXVIII
   At this time the regiment was about ready to move and the boys were scattered 
around town. All were ordered to report at once. Sergeant Major Witmer had been sent 
over on the opposite side of the square where part of the regiment had been, previously 
detailed to help extinguish the fire. On his way back he passed General Beard's 
headquarters of the 14th corps when two citizens from the opposite side of the street 
accused the Sergeant of being one who helped steal a barrel of flour. The guard called 
out Halt! When Witmer replied that he was a member of the 20th army corps, that he 
had nothing to do with the flour. For some reason unknown to any of us, Witmer did 
not stop. The guard again called Halt! but he passed on, when the guard raised his gun 
and fired, the ball entering the back part of his head, passing thru and coming out just 
back of the forehead. (The guard who shot him was a member of the 105th Ohio 
regiment, Beard's brigade, 14th army corps.) The boys of the regiment were so worked 
up and fearing a riot the Colonel moved the regiment across the river, leaving a detail 
to take charge of the corpse and give him a decent burial. 
   The funeral took place on the night of the 13th, or rather early on the morning of 
the 14th. The detail was as follows: Lieutenant B. T. Parks, Sergeant A. M. Eby, 
George D. Griggs, Jacob Garman, and the writer. We had a good deal of trouble in 
getting material for making a box. Thirty-two pieces of boards were used to construct 
it. We had been refused hatchet, nails, etc., by the citizens, but we took the liberty of 
looking for what we needed. When finished, a small bunch of hay was put in the box 
upon which to lay the head, a web of muslin was secured and several layers were put 
into the box, then the corpse was tenderly lifted off the ground, where he had been 
lying since he was shot, then several sheets of muslin was spread over him.
This was the first and only corpse the writer ever prepared for burial and we did the 
best we could. This was all done in the dark hours of the night.
   After taking a last sad look upon our dear friend and comrade. the box was nailed 
shut and we waited for the morning. When at last dawn appeared we inquired of two 
darkies, who were passing, whether they knew where the cemetery was and they said 
they did.
We told them we wanted them to go with us to the burying ground, but they said they 
had business for their master, and could not go.
   We told them they must. We saw a buggy in an alley but could not use it, as the box 
would not fit either way we might fix it. The only way we had was to tear off the top 
and place the box on the springs; then with a darkey in the shafts and the other 
pushing we moved out to the cemetery. When there the colored fellows left us and we 
dug a grave. After depositing the corpse, Sergeant Eby placed a headboard and upon it 
inscribed the deceased's name, and the regiment, rank and company to which he 
belonged.
   While we were digging the grave a little boy came, sat down and watched us. A new 
grave had just been made near the one we had dug. When this little fellow said: "You 
bury your man better than this one right here was buried." We asked him why, and he 
said: "You put yours in a box, the other was just thrown into the hole like a brute."
   The guard who shot Witmer was relieved at once and another placed on his post. 
Later he was tried by military court martial and acquitted. After the burial the detail 
left the cemetery, crossed the river and marched hard to catch up to the regiment.
   A division of the 14th corps was left as a rear guard in the town until the arsenal 
could be completely destroyed. Fire was applied on the 14th, and the arsenal was a 
thing of the past.
   March 15, Wednesday, struck tents, marched all day and all night. Continued 
marching on Thursday, the 16th, crossed Moore's Creek, traveled 24 miles. Friday, 
17th, remained in camp. Saturday, 18th, marched only six miles and went to camp. 
March l9th, Sunday, broke camp, marched all night to reinforce our first and third 
divisions, who with the 14th corps, were fighting at Bentonville. This was the last 
battle fought by Sherman's army. Traveled 18 miles.
   Colonel Rhett, who it was said, had ordered the first gun to be fired upon Fort 
Sumpter, was captured at Bentonville. Before the war he was editor of the Charleston, 
S. C., Mercury. A saucy looking and independent fellow he was. The boys of Company 
G went to see him, while he was under guard at General Kilpatrick's headquarters. He 
felt very much humiliated and the boys poked fun at him until the guard ordered it 
stopped.
   After the battle we lay in camp on the 20th and 21st. On Monday, 22nd, marched to 
Goldsboro, traveled 18 miles. March 23rd, Thursday, struck tents, crossed the Neuse 
River at Neuse bridge and encamped, traveled 10 miles. Friday, 24th, broke camp, 
passed thru Goldsboro and encamped just beyond, marched eight miles.
   Saturday, 24th, changed camp about a mile and a half. Sunday, 26th, in camp. 
Monday, 27th, the regiment went out foraging. From the 28th of March until the 10th 
of April we remained in this camp at Goldsboro, making preparations for another 
forward movement. On April 1st, Sergeant F. H. Knight was promoted to Sergeant 
Major of the regiment, to fill the vacancy caused by the death of Sergeant Isaac 
Witmer. Again Company G was highly honored. On the same date following 
promotions were made in Company G: F. W. Wallace and the writer from corporal to 
sergeants; also Jacob Leided to corporal, and SOLOMON APP to corporal, on April 
6th. 

CHAPTER LXIX
   Monday, April 10. And now being in this camp since March 28th, and all 
preparations completed for another forward movement, we broke camp, marched thru 
Goldsboro, traveled 12 miles and bivouacked. On the way during the day we had some 
little sport, which we all relished more or less. George Noaker's knapsack bursted and 
spilled all the stuff he had in it. Some one yelled: "Bucktails, fall in for your hardware." 
This made the old fellow angry. And the language he used was what he knew before he 
went to service, and that which he learned in the service, and the combination of the 
two makes it entirely too strong to be printed here. The boys just delighted to get 
some of our old fellows angry.
   On our marching into Goldsboro about two weeks prior a house of a planter stood 
along the road. A most delightful home. Now in marching back over the same road we 
passed the place where this fine house once stood, but had since been destroyed by fire. 
The family that once occupied it had gathered a few household articles and were now 
living in the corner of a field, near where once stood their beautiful mansion. Rails 
thrown on top of the fence, and these covered with corn fodder was the protection the 
people now had and there is where they lived.
   Tuesday, April 11th, broke camp, marched to Smithfield and encamped, traveled 15 
miles. On the 12th, struck tents, crossed Neuse river and camped, marched 15 miles. 
Today when we reached Smithfield, N. C., we received the first news of Lee's surrender. 
This was indeed good news for we knew it would be but a few days until General Joe 
Johnson's army would have to surrender to General Sherman. We all marched on with 
lighter hearts, believing that the war would soon be over. We camped near Raleigh, the 
capitol of North Carolina. Marched 15 miles. We remained in this camp until the l9th, 
when we were out foraging.
   On the 20th, we had Division review. We remained in camp. On the 25th, broke 
camp, marched to Jones' Crossroads, three miles from Holly Springs, and went to 
camp. Traveled 12 miles. On the 16th and 27th remained in camp. Friday, April 28th, 
struck tents, marched back to our old camp at Raleigh, traveled 12 miles. On the 29th, 
in camp.
   Sunday, April 3Oth. Today we start on our homeward march, the war being over and 
we are all happy. Left camp, crossed Neuse river, traveled 15 miles and encamped. The 
army under Joe Johnson had now surrendered. Some difficulty arose between Secretary 
of War Edwin M. Staunton and General Sherman as to the terms of surrender. All 
things now having been properly adjusted, we were ready to move.
   After leaving Raleigh, N. C., and marching toward Richmond we met hundreds of 
Confederates, some of whom lived in the extreme southern part of Texas, going south 
to their homes. These poor fellows at first were twitted quite a good deal by our boys, 
but soon orders were given out not to molest them. They were ragged and hungry, and 
were fed from our commissary. Many a one, no doubt when he reached home, found 
his loved ones gone and his property in ruin. They all looked very much distressed, and 
presented a very pitiable sight. 
   Monday, May 1st, broke camp near Neuse river, crossed Tar river, marched 22 miles. 
May 2nd, Tuesday struck tents, marched 20 miles. May 3rd, Wednesday, broke camp 
passed thru Williamsboro, N. C., crossed the state line between North Carolina and 
Virginia, and encamped about four miles from the Roanoke river, marched 10 miles. As 
the head of each brigade came to the state line the band stopped and played "Carry Me 
Back to Old Virginia." It was a little over one year and eight months since we had left 
Virginia, to go west and unite our fortunes with Sherman's army.
   May 4th, Thursday, broke camp, crossed the Roanoke river and Coleman's creek, 
marched 20 miles. It had been raining and our camp was a plowed field. You may 
imagine how we looked.
   May 5th, struck tents, crossed Meherring river and encamped near Notaway Court 
House, marched 18 miles. Passed thru some fine country both in North Carolina and 
Virginia. Saturday, 6th, struck the South Side railroad at Blacks and Whites Station, 
marched four miles and encamped at Wellville Station.
   On the evening of the 5th, Major William Byers, of the 49th, P. V. I., which 
command was encamped at Blacks and Whites Station, and Lieutenant Adam Stahl 
came to meet us. General Slocum, who was at the head of the column, had told them 
on what road we were marching. They stayed with us all night and marched back with 
us next day, to where their camp was located. 
   Sunday, May 7th, broke camp near Wellsville Station, crossed Appomattox river and 
encamped, marched 17 miles. Monday, 8th. Today we left camp near the Appomattox 
river, crossed Falling creek and encamped, traveled 17 miles. Tuesday, 9th. Moved 
camp about one mile. On the 10th, remained in camp. 
   Secretary of War, Edwin M. Staunton, wanted General Sherman to have his troops 
pass in review for him when we marched thru Richmond, but owing to some 
misrepresentation of Sherman by Staunton about Sherman's terms of surrender of 
Johnson's army, Sherman said, that as much as he would like his army to pass through 
the Rebel Capitol, he would march them six miles around the city rather than pass in 
review for Mr. Staunton. We did not pass in review. 

CHAPTER LXX
   Thursday, 11th, broke camp, passed thru Manchester on the south side of the James 
River. From the bridge we could see Belle Island, where three of the boys of Company 
G, then with us, had been held as prisoners in May, 1863, and on this island they had 
their headquarters for a little while until exchanged. Sergeant F. H. Knight, Elias 
Miller, and Edward Fisher were the comrades referred to.
   We marched thru Richmond around by Castle Thunder, the old tobacco house 
before the war, and to Libby Prison, which was only a short distance away. We saw 
where a number of our prisoners had made their escape by tunneling beneath a public 
road and coming out in a lumber yard just across the street. The writer examined the 
hole thru which they crawled. Upon the evacuation of Richmond, a large part of the 
city was destroyed by fire. We marched thru the city, passed the Confederate Capital 
and the State capital buildings, used as Jeff Davis' headquarters, and continued on out 
to Hanover court house, where General McClellan had been with his army and fought 
in 1862. This was only a few miles from Richmond. Our march that day was 12 miles.
   Friday, May 12, we left camp today and now it is on to Washington, instead of 
Richmond. We were all looking forward with happy expectation to soon meeting our 
friends and loved ones in old Selinsgrove.
   Saturday, May 13. In our northern march passed over many of the battle fields, 
where General Grant and his noble army had built long lines of breastworks and 
fortifications, and where he had pushed General Lee step by step, until at last he was 
driven into the fortifications at Petersburg and Richmond. We passed over 
Spottsylvania and the Wilderness battle fields, on Sunday, the 14th, it being the 
ground on which General Hancock's Corps had done its most desperate fighting. 
Colonel Craig rode into the woods, where a charge had been made by his men, and he 
said on coming to the road that he had stopped his horse in front of a Rebel fort and 
counted over 300 corpses of men unburied, who were all members of Hancock's Corps. 
The stump of a 22 1/2 inch tree, now on exhibition in the Smithsonian Institution in 
Washington. D. C., was examined with interest, because the trunk had been literally 
shot off by minnie balls. 
   May 15. Today we marched upon the battlefield at Chancellorsville, where just two 
years and twelve days before Company G was engaged in the first battle of the service, 
the same being fought on May 1-2-3, 1863. This time we came direct from Richmond. 
When we were here before things were different. Then the woods were filled with 
Confederates whose cry was "On To Washington." Now as the war was over, all was 
quiet.
   Here after one of the severest battles of the war, General Hooker's army was 
defeated, and we were driven back across the Rappahannock River. In our imagination 
we could see the awful battle raging; columns moving back and forth, men cheering and 
cursing and swearing, the cannonading, the volleys of musketry, the moaning and 
groaning of the wounded, the stampede of the army, the woods afire from exploding 
shells and filled with the dead and dying, the wounded praying that we would help and 
save them. All these thoughts returned and are indelibly impressed upon our minds.
   Two members of Company G, Frank Knarr and Reuben Miller, did not answer at roll 
call after the battle, and Sergeant F. H. Knight, Ed Fisher, William McFall, Michael 
Schaffer, and Elias Miller were made prisoners and, as mentioned before, were taken to 
Belle Island, at Richmond, and at a later time were exchanged, and were now with us on 
this march. Sergeant John R. Reigle was the only one of the wounded who was with us 
on this second visit to the battlefield, where we received our baptism of shot and shell. 
We spent some time here looking over the battlefield. Very few of the fallen ones were 
buried after the battle, and now their bones had been bleached under the southern sun. 
A number of the members of Company G picked up parts of the skeletons and brought 
them home with them. Major Chapman was killed here while gallantly leading his 
regiment, the 28th. P V. I. of our brigade. Some knew where he had fallen, and in 
looking over the ground found what had remained of his corpse. His body had been 
interred by what was known as sodding. That is, the ground was shoveled up and 
thrown over his body. He was lying on his back and was recognized by a tooth brush 
and several other articles, which were found in his clothing. Under his back in the 
ground was the print of a horse's foot as plain as if just made. General Geary said no 
doubt it was the mark of his (Geary's) old war horse Charlie. The bones were placed in 
a box, put in an ambulance, taken to Washington and then shipped to his home. After a 
few hours, the bugles sounded the fall-in call, then it was forward again. 
   We marched to the United States ford on the Rappahannock River, where we went 
into camp, marched 15 miles. 
  Tuesday, May 16. This day we passed Harwood Church, going thru Brentsville and 
went into camp in the evening near Fairfax, a station on the Orange and Alexandria 
Railroad, marched 20 miles. 
  Wednesday, May 17. Broke camp late in the morning and marched until midnight. In 
the afternoon at 4 o'clock, we crossed Bull Run. The Colonel ordered the men to take 
off their shoes and roll up their trousers, so as to cross without getting wet. We 
expected to bivouac, as a great thunder storm was brewing in the west, but in our halt 
we were disappointed.

CHAPTER LXXI
  The order was forward. The storm came in all its fury. The thunder and lightning 
were fierce. The heavens were covered with the blackest and darkest clouds imaginable. 
Still we marched on thru all this storm and rain, drenched to the skin, and such 
thunder claps and such vivid flashes of lightning we never saw before. The lightning 
flashing along the guns of our marching column made it indeed a fearful sigh to 
behold. As we were moving on the writer noticed a deep gully or washout in the road 
just before him and by the aid of a friendly flash of lightning stepped over it safely. 
Captain Clark, of Company E, saw the writer step over the gully (we were marching 
left in front) and coming to where he thought it was he miscalculated the distance and 
fell headlong into the ditch. A flash of lightning revealed to us the gallant Captain 
floundering in the mud and water. With a little help he was soon all right again. A 
number of big words escaped the captain's lips, but we refrain from repeating them.
   The storm ceased at midnight, and when it was about over we pitched tents for the 
balance of the night. Of all the unnecessary marches during our term of service, this 
was the one most uncalled for. The war was over and the only reason given was that the 
corps commander wanted to have the honor of getting to Washington ahead of the 
other corps, which I believe he succeeded in doing. Marched 22 miles.
   Thursday, May 18. The sun out bright and warm, and we managed by building fires 
and the heat of the sun to partly, at least, dry our clothes and clean off the mud, for we 
certainly looked a sight. We moved about 8 A. M. and soon learned we were only a few 
miles from Alexandria. At about 2 P. M. we went into camp at Cloud's Mills, only four 
miles from Alexandria. Here we were met by George W. Keller and Joseph V. 
Gemberling, of Selinsgrove. All were pleased by this unexpected meeting of our old 
friends from home.
   We visited the 208th regiment, P. V. I., who were encamped here, to which Company 
D from Selinsgrove was attached. Also the Selinsgrove band (Prof. Joseph H. Feehrer, 
leader) belonged to this regiment. Many of these boys and those of Company G had 
been school boys together and had grown up into manhood, when the war separated us 
for a few years, and now to meet so many again was indeed a pleasure.
   We witnessed dress parade of the 208th in the evening, Col. M. Heintzelman 
commanding. After the parade a goodly number of us decided to spend the night in 
camp with the 208th boys. We had a jolly good time, mark you.
   Ordlich fun de buva hen bissel tsu feel schlichsed druppa gricked un se hen 
ga'schlickserd de gons nocht un sin net lose warra bis shpote der naixt daug, ovver sis 
bol fuftsich yore ferby un ich will ken nauma mentiona.  
   Friday, May 19. The 208th boys returned our visit and we tried our best to give 
them a pleasant time. All seemed happy.
  Saturday, May 20. Orders were read today for all to prepare for the grand review of 
Sherman's Army to take place on Thursday, the 24th. Everything was now in readiness. 
On the 23rd General Meade's army of the Potomac was reviewed. The day was 
beautiful, and the pageant superb. Washington was full of strangers. Every house was 
decorated with flags and bunting. Nothing to mar the happiness of the people, only the 
sad reminder of the gloom cast upon the Nation, only a few weeks before, in the death 
of President Lincoln. The capitol and all the public buildings were still draped in 
mourning in commemoration of that sad event. During the afternoon and night of the 
23rd, the 15th, 17th, and 20th corps crossed the long bridge over the Potomac and 
bivouacked in the streets about the Capitol; the 14th corps closed up to the bridge.
   Wednesday, May 24. The morning of the 24th was extremely bright and beautiful, 
and everything was in splendid order for the review. At 9 A. M. the signal gun was 
fired. Slowly the column moved with General Sherman and his staff at the head. They 
were followed close by General Logan with the 15th corps. Then the 17th, followed by 
our corps, the 20th, and the 14th.
   We were reviewed by President Johnson and his cabinet, and all the General officers. 
As division after division passed, each commander of an army corps or division took 
his place upon the reviewing stand until his troops had passed. They in turn were also 
presented to President Andrew Johnson and his cabinet.
   Here were 65,000 men, who had just completed a march of nearly 2,000 miles thru a 
hostile country, in good drill, and who realized that they were being closely watched by 
thousands of their fellowmen and foreigners.
   Some little scenes caused the crowd to cheer. Each division was followed by six 
ambulances, as a representative of its baggage trains. By way of variety, some added 
goats, milch cows, and pack mules, and upon the pack mules, gamecocks and poultry; 
donkeys with raccoons upon their pack saddles, hams, etc. All this to represent our 
march thru the South. When we reached the Treasury building and looked back, the 
sight was simply grand. The column was compact, and the glittering muskets looked 
like a solid mass of steel, moving with the regularity of a pendulum. Marched 45 men 
abreast and two lines deep. Near the treasury building a former Selinsgrove boy, James 
Eby, recognized the writer, broke thru the lines and shook hands but was immediately 
ordered out. After the review we were marched from the city about four miles, near 
Bladensburg, Md., marched 12 or 14 miles. Soon after the review, orders were issued 
that all three-year men whose time of service was nearly expired should be discharged. 
This order included Companies G, F, and H, of our regiment. This was enjoyable news 
for the boys, as all were anxiously waiting for the day of their discharge. 

CHAPTER LXXII
   Thursday, June 1 was a day set apart by President Johnson for prayer and 
thanksgiving. The writer had gone into the city for the purpose of looking thru the 
public buildings, not knowing that all were closed. He came to camp very much 
disappointed. I had the extreme pleasure of seeing General Winfield Scott on 
Pennsylvania avenue, walking toward the Capitol. A fine looking soldier he was. 
   After going into camp in the evening Corporal Lumbard started out for woods. He 
soon found two or three fence rails, placed them on his shoulders and started for his 
regiment. Troops were coming in and fires were started everywhere thruout the woods, 
and Lumbard became confused. So he finally came to a good sized fire around which 
several soldiers were taking their evening meal, it now being dark. Lumbard said: "Boys 
what regiment is this?" They replied "Fifth Ohio." and he said: "Can you tell me where 
I can find the 147th." They said: "Yes, down at that large fire." Lumbard started out 
but again got lost and came back
to the same fire, and asked again whether they could tell him where he could find the 
147th regiment. One said: "We just told you a little while ago, down at that large fire." 
Joe still held on to his rails and started off again and for the third time came back to 
the same old fire place. One of the men upon hearing a noise looked up and saw 
Lumbard coming, said: "There comes that darned fool again with the rails on his back."
   Saturday, June 3. All the men on detail from Company G were ordered to report to 
the company, preparatory to being mustered out of service.
   Sunday, June 4, orders were read that all guns and accoutrements be cleaned up and 
made ready to turn over to the general government.
   June 5, in camp. 
   Tuesday, June 6. Today Company G was mustered out of the service of Uncle Sam, 
whom we had served as best we knew how for almost three long years. We were a happy 
set of boys, yet when we thought of our dear comrades who sacrificed their lives for 
their country it made us feel solemn and sad. 
Starting for Home
   Thursday, June 8. We left our last camp near Bladensburg, Md., about 8 A. M., 
having given goodbye to the boys, who remained with the regiment. Company G, with 
H and F companies, marched to the depot at Washington city, where we waited 
transportation. Four members of Company G, Henry Brown, Peter R. Hoffer, Francis 
Smith, and Edward Reed Smith, who were not embraced in the general orders by which 
we were discharged, on account of having enlisted after a certain date in 1862, were 
transferred to Company E of our regiment. Soon after being transferred to Company 
E, Peter R. Hoffer, who had been paid off, met with a serious loss, by having his 
pocketbook taken out of his tent.
   We awaited transportation until late in the afternoon during which time we had a 
pleasant wait of it. We were about as happy as the darkies of the South were when told 
they were free. When we were ready to leave camp, the writer told Captain Byers that he 
had not missed a day of service since his enlistment and the joining of the regiment, 
that he had never been a shyster, but that now he had made up his mind not to do any 
more marching. It was four miles to the railroad station from camp. The captain said: 
"How will you get there?" I told him I would attend to that and he said all right. After 
the company had gone I went to the wagon master and inquired about Captain Byers' 
baggage. He told me what wagon it was on and I told him I was going to take charge of 
the baggage and he said all right.
   Our first division was having review and their line extended over the road we were to 
take. So in order to get upon this road, we found a bank two or three feet high, down 
which the mules refused to go. The teamster was a good one and understood his team, 
so he cracked his whip and yelled, “Git up!” One jump and they were down over the 
bank, the wagon upset and the fellow who had charge of the baggage was all tangled up, 
but soon made his exit thru a hole in the canvas in the rear end of the wagon. The boys 
who were being reviewed gave us cheer after cheer. Soon we got the wagon in shape and 
off we started. Met the company an hour or so later, and when we related our 
experience all had a good laugh and was glad to see no one was hurt. 
   At 4 P. M. boarded train for Harrisburg, and were soon speeding on toward 
Baltimore. On reaching Baltimore, we marched from the B. & O. depot thru the city to 
Northern Central depot. About 10 A. M. on the 9th, the order came all aboard. 
Reached west side of river opposite Harrisburg about 1:30 P. M. Here the company 
was ordered off the cars and marched over the old camel back bridge and thru the 
triumphal arch, which was erected on Market street, and then out Market to the 
station. The writer had been ordered off the baggage car but as he had charge of the 
baggage he was allowed to remain. Our car was run over the bridge to the freight 
station by gravity. When the car got on the Harrisburg side of the river, and while 
running along slowly I heard a lady playing on a piano, "Tramp, Tramp, the Boys Are 
Marching," and I thought the music was the finest and the sweetest I ever heard. And I 
was doubly thankful that the tramp and marching was over. 

CHAPTER LXXIII
   When the car reached the station I was again ordered off. But I said no, this car goes 
up to the stock yard, which was quite near Camp Curtin. He said all right and sent a 
shifting engine and took the car to the stock yard. A soldier's word at that time meant 
something. Soon after we had landed I saw a few of the boys of the company, who came 
after water. I told them to tell the Captain to come and get his baggage. Soon a detail 
came and all went to camp. The Captain complimented me on being a first class 
shyster. The latter part Friday, June 9, was spent in camp. 
   Saturday, June 10, we remained in camp, awaiting our time to be paid off and get our 
“buzzard” as the boys called the discharge. How changed things were on our return to 
this camp, where we had been sworn into Uncle Sam's service just two years and nine 
months before. Then the camp was filled with soldiers, now a very few were here. When 
any arrived, they were soon paid off and sent home. As to Company G, many of our 
number, too, were missing. While we were glad and happy yet sorrow was mingled with 
our happiness on account of the missing ones. Late this evening we were paid off and 
given our discharges. 
   Sunday, June 11, stores being open all day we purchased citizens clothes. Hardly a 
soldier but paid out from $50 to $75 for a suit. Of course, this included the “fixins.” 
Lumbard and the writer packed their clothes in the writer's trunk, and on Monday, June 
12 had them checked to Selinsgrove Junction.
   Monday, June 12. We left Harrisburg by train and arrived at Selinsgrove Junction 
late in the afternoon. We came across the river in a flat or boats. As we rounded the 
Island we saw a great crowd of men, women and children upon the bank of the west 
side of the river, cheering and anxiously awaiting our coming. Hardly had the flat 
struck shore before the loved ones surrounded us, shook hands and kissed those for 
whom they waited so long to return. Strange to say yet true the first lady to kiss the 
writer became his wife in 1868.
   The company was formed and marched over to Market street, Prof. J. H. Feehrer's 
band leading off. The town was beautifully decorated. Owing to the recent floods, we 
crossed Penn's Creek on trestle works, the bridge having been swept away. We marched 
up Market street to the Lutheran cemetery, where Captain Davis was buried. Dr. 
Samuel Domer, a brother-in-law of the captain, made an address at the grave. We 
returned to W. F. Eckbert's on the southeast corner of Pine and Market streets, where 
Mrs. Eckbert, who was a sister of Captain Davis, had prepared an elegant supper for 
Company G. This was the last supper before our final separation. After supper the 
relatives of the boys of the company from different parts of the county were in waiting 
to take home their dear ones who had escaped shot and shell.
   The writer gave each member of the company goodbye, until at last he stood alone, 
leaning against a post. Then the sad thought of home and mother came to my mind 
and if I ever missed my two dear brothers, who sacrificed their lives for their country, 
and mother and home it was then. I don't think I ever spent a sadder short time in all 
my life than while standing at that post. But in the midst of my thoughts a hand 
beckoned me into the center of the street. I went out and met James E. Lloyd, who 
three years later became my brother-in-law. He said to me: “Schroyer, where are you 
going to make your home?” I said: “I do not know, my folks are all gone and I am left 
alone.” He replied that if satisfactory to me he would give me a home. I told him I 
would cheerfully accept his offer and thanked him kindly for the same. He said, “Do 
you have any clothing?” I said: “Yes, Lumbard and I have a trunk full somewhere and I 
think it is on the river bank, where we carried it when we landed.” I sent a boy after it, 
and he soon returned with the trunk. I took the trunk to Mr. Lloyd's and unpacked the 
same in the yard, for fear that a few army bugs might have been mustered out with me, 
but I am glad to say we found none.
   The kindness of these dear friends to me, a homeless soldier, has always been a 
tender memory and will continue sacred as long as reason endures. “I was a stranger, 
and they took me in.” Their home and its comforts was my home; their friendship, so 
willingly given, was later more strongly cemented by closer family relations as that of 
brother-in-law, grew and ripened during the years that these dear friends were spared. 
The entrance into this home marked the end of my soldier life and the assuming of my 
duties as a civilian. 
---
A Few Words In Conclusion
TO MY COMRADES: Fifty years have now passed since my young companions, now 
my old comrades, enlisted for the most memorable war of all time. To their heroism 
and fidelity, on the march, in the prison pen, on many a hard fought and bloody field I 
want to testify. Their service was well performed and their laurels were manfully won. 
That comradeship which was cemented by nearly three years of constant service thru a 
horrid war still endures today, and to them I say, all honor to you, brave boys of youth, 
and all love to you, comrades of my later life. 
   TO MY READERS: In an humble way I have penned this history of Company G, 
147th Regiment, P. V. I., and I trust it has afforded my readers an opportunity in a 
small way, to get something of the experiences of a soldier's life. If the articles shall 
have attained such purpose, the writer has achieved all that he purposed to do, and he 
lays down his pen with satisfaction.




This document was found in Volume I of the "Snyder County Historical Society 
Bulletins", page 336 (the original bulletin was Volume II, Number 2, 1939).

Penn Valley Publishing Company
201 West Pike St.
PO Box 239
Selinsgrove, PA  17870