The private soldier once more
regarded himself a gentleman and a man of honor. We were willing to do
and die and dare anything for our loved South, and the Stars and Bars
of the Confederacy. In addition to this, General Johnston ordered his
soldiers to be paid up every cent that was due them, and a bounty of
fifty dollars besides. He issued an order to his troops offering
promotion and a furlough for acts of gallantry and bravery on the field
of battle.
The cloven foot of tyranny and oppression was not discernible in the acts
of officers, from general down to corporal, as formerly. Notwithstanding
all this grand transformation in our affairs, old Joe was a strict
disciplinarian. Everything moved like clockwork. Men had to keep their
arms and clothing in good order. The artillery was rubbed up and put in
good condition. The wagons were greased, and the harness and hamestrings
oiled. Extra rations were issued to negroes who were acting as servants,
a thing unprecedented before in the history of the war.
Well, old Joe was a yerker. He took all the tricks. He was a commander.
He kept everything up and well in hand. His lines of battle were
invulnerable. The larger his command, the easier he could handle it.
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