J. Whitthorne and myself all ran for orderly sergeant of Company H,
and John was elected, and the first vacancy occurring after the death
of Captain Webster, he was commissioned brevet second lieutenant. When
the war broke out, John was clerking for John L. & T. S. Brandon, in
Columbia. He had been in every march, skirmish, and battle that had
been fought during the war. Along the dusty road, on the march, in the
bivouac and on the battlefield, he was the same noble, generous boy;
always, kind, ever gentle, a smile ever lighting up his countenance.
He was one of the most even tempered men I ever knew. I never knew him
to speak an unkind word to anyone, or use a profane or vulgar word in
my life.
One of those ricochet cannon balls struck my old friend, N. B. Shepard.
Shep was one of the bravest and best soldiers who ever shouldered a
musket. It is true, he was but a private soldier, but he was the best
friend I had during the whole war. In intellect he was far ahead of most
of the generals, and would have honored and adorned the name of general
in the C. S. A. He was ever brave and true. He followed our cause to
the end, yet all the time an invalid. Today he is languishing on a bed
of pain and sickness, caused by that ball at Jonesboro.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307