The soldiers were jubilant. Gladness was depicted on
every countenance. I honestly believe that had a battle been fought at
this place, every soldier would have distinguished himself. I believe
a sort of fanaticism had entered their souls, that whoever was killed
would at once be carried to the seventh heaven. I am sure of one thing,
that every soldier had faith enough in old Joe to have charged Sherman's
whole army. When "Halt!" "Retreat!" What is the matter? General Hood
says they are enfilading his line, and are decimating his men, and he
can't hold his position.
The same old story repeats itself. Old Joe's army is ever face to face
with Sherman's incendiaries. We have faith in old Joe's ability to meet
Sherman whenever he dares to attack. The soldiers draw their regular
rations. Every time a blue coat comes in sight, there is a dead Yankee
to bury. Sherman is getting cautious, his army hacked. Thus we continue
to fall back for four months, day by day, for one hundred and ten days,
fighting every day and night.
ON THE BANKS OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE
Our army had crossed the Chattahoochee. The Federal army was on the
other side; our pickets on the south side, the Yankees on the north side.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243