Monday, April 14, 2014

"Poor Lyles is Dead"

Thursday, April 14, 1864, near Liberty Mills

It is just the way of all things. Just when we high privaters were getting somewhat confortable, someone way up, "there", gets the notion that we are indeed confortable and decides to change things around. I refer, of course, to our officers. Generally, I think that they are fine fellows. Lieutenant Williamson, for instance, looks after us rather well. He is first rate. This company, we Lancaster Hornets, has been reorganized and we are as mad as our name.

I suppose that all these new recruits have necessitated these changes. They are so few so it might not be due to them that we are changing. Sims and Hood have been transferred to the second squad. Holton and Castles have come to us from that same squad. Our squad now numbers thirteen, including Corporal Flynn. We still have him. We now have, in addition to Flynn, Burrell Hancock, Bill Barton, Jr., Tom Duncan, Dennis Castles, John Holton, Wilson Crenshaw, Jeff Mathis, Bill Terry, John White, Isaac Vincent and myself. One good thing that has happened of all this is that all the members of our Dandy Eights mess are in the same squad instead of being spread over two squads.

But poor Dick Lyles. He was in our squad and took sick suddenly. He was sent to the hospital in Gordonsville. We have since learned that poor Lyles is dead. He was perhaps only twenty-one. He was always a cheerful sort.

Williams has turned sickly. We who had been sick and confined to quarters are now well. We had been on excused duty. Now that we are well, we work.

Caskey is not of our platoon and we are glad of it as we think him crazy. He talks about leaving his pares to go and join the navy. Since I live on the coast or at least used to, I am used to the sea. These other folks, from the upcountry, have a horror of the sea. 

I had forgotten to mention is my last entry of the most important thing that we received from the latest packages from home. Soap, it was soap, good old lye soap. The single brick, about the size of the back of one's hand, is worth its weight in gold pieces. When the piece was discovered, we all stared at it in dumb silence. Second squad challenged os for the title to the single piece. 

We put our Terry against their Hood in a wrestling match. Their Corporal McAteer officiated. I think the entire company watched. Wagers were placed on the outcome. I saw money, socks and rations being offered up as possible winnings. Holton bet his new shirt against Jeffy Turner's blanket and I thought that a mistake as it is his only shirt.

The yelling would have awakened poor Lyles. There was pushing, shoving and some jabs, and not all from the combatants. Hood slipped in the mud and went down with Terry right on top of him. Hood squirmed and squiggled but Terry would not be moved. Exhausted, Hood gave it all up. The both of them arose and shook hands. Terry used the soap first as he looked more like a mud hen than a soldier. Holton got his blanket and Turner got cold that night.

It was my turn yesterday morning to use the soap. My clothes, all of them, are now clean as is my face, feet and hands. It felt as good as if on furlough. The remaining sliver I gave to Barton. We smell so much better now.

Just before starting to pen this entry, I wrote a letter to my little friend, Rose Mae. I have copied it here:

My Dear Miss Rose Mae-

It is with gratitude that I write you these few lines. That splendid flag that you made is right now under my jacket against my heart where it is keeping me warm. We soldiers enlisted to defend this flag and the freedoms that we all desire. This we shall do until this war is over. Trusting that you and your family are well, I remain,

Your most humble and obedient servant
David Tooms
Company I
12th South Carolina Infantry Regiment


I Send You These Few Lines.


Tooms makes much about just a piece of soap. To him and all soldiers of the period, soap is a big deal. Getting filthy is easy, getting clean is hard given that soap is scarce. Tooms washed only his face, hands and feet for two reasons. First, there's no place to take a full bath. Second, army regulations call for only the feet to be washed, twice a week.

In researching Civil War soldiers, it is fairly easily (emphasis on the word fairly) easy to determine the soldiers' company and regiment. Finding the platoon, sometimes called section, and squad is not possible; the available records do not have that level of detail.
my placing of the men in certain platoons and squads is fiction, or literary license.

Rose Mae is Rose Mae Talbird, mentioned in the last entry. The soldiers mentioned all appear on the muster rolls of Company I. Richard Lyles did contract an illness and died of it on April 5th at the hospital at Gordonsville. 

Tooms and his company are about due to pull picket duty.



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