Tuesday, June 21, 1864, south of Petersburg
We entrench constantly these days. If we are to be in any one place for just a few hours, we entrench. If we have to march to a certain place and must rest for the night before we arrive at our destination, we entrench. Luckily for us, today we did little work entrenching and that was only because we have returned to some works we had already constructed.
The regiment is becoming quite the engineers. We do not lack for tools as even a tin plate can be used as a digging tool. Some of us have no plates but their hands work just fine. There are some proper tools, axes and shovels, in the regiment, but only a few per platoon. If there is any sort of structure nearby, be it barn or farm house, it is raided for anything useful to dig with. Boards are ripped up. Dinner plates, taken from the kitchen do not work well as they break much too easily.
Some days ago, Hancock, Castles, Holton and myself were sent to a farm house for anything that might be turned into an implement of construction. Axes, hammers, nails and shovels are especially prized. We hoped the property had no residents. We were happy to see that the previous occupants were absent. If ever people are present, we politely ask the owner to spare what he, or often she, can spare for the protection of the boys.
However, since we are but high privates of the lowest order, we look first for something to eat. More often than not, we find nothing, not even a raccoon. At this house, the fence rails went first as they make good firewood. We all slung our muskets over our shoulders and carried as much as we could back to our camp. Our eyes were peeled, looking for patrolling Yankee cavalry.
It was on our sixth or seventh trip to the house when we began to tear up the walls, ripping off the boards. Holton peeled away one board to reveal a hidden pantry. On the floor was a three gallon crock. He called us all over to him. We stared at the crock, covered with cheesecloth and a plate with a rock on top. We said nothing but each of heard the others ask the same question in our heads,"What is in there?"
Holton carefully removed the rock, plate and cloth. The first sight that greeted us was a greenish scum with a foul scent. Holton moved away the scum with the plate. Castles called out, "Pickles, those things are pickles!" All thoughts of our assignment vanished as we anticipated a feeding frolic. Holton picked up the crock and moved to place it on a table. The crock fell from his grip and it crashed onto the floor, breaking into pieces and scattering the scum and pickles all over the floor.
We were mad as hornets towards Holton. This careless act would not go unpunished. Castles beat him with his slouch as Castles kicked him. We picked him up and carried him to a nearby run. We found a small pond and threw him into it. It was then that we heard it. It was the sound of creaking wood and iron and falling water.
It took a short while to go through the undergrowth to determine the sours of the sounds. Castles saw it first. It was a mill, somewhat worse for wear. As Holton cursed our souls, the rest of us raced into the water towards the mill. Hancock fell and got just as wet as Holton. The door to the millwright's office was kicked in and we barged in, hoping that our loss of the pickles would be made up with the gain of something of equal value.
Near the hopper we found several sacks. There was plenty of "evidence" that the mice had found them before we did. After all the sacks were opened, we found that we were the proud owners of three sacks of corn meal, one of wheat flour and two sacks of corn, all with holes. Luckily for us, there were some empty sacks nearby, some marked, "H.C.". We took them and transferred the contents, including the, "evidence" into the new sacks. The mice that did not run away, we picked from the sacks and let them go. We joked that the mice were so small that they would not be worth the trouble to kill, skin and roast. I could not help but wonder if we might not someday regret having let the mice go.
We were in a very dangerous situation. We had forgot all about being soldiers. In our haste to punish Holton, we had left our rifles and ammunition at the farmhouse. Suppose a patrol of Yankee cavalry should just then come by? They would see that there were rebels hard by and would come looking for us. We could flee and be shot or stay, be captured and go to prison. No Yankees appeared. Providence was with us.
As it was getting dark, we determined that we needed to get back to camp. Should we approach our lines after dark, we might be shot for Yankees. Back at the farmhouse, we found a wheelbarrow which we took back to the mill to get the sacks of treasure. As sweet water was hard to come by in camp, we took the time to drink our fill from the millrace and fill our canteens.
We were very fearful whilst returning to our lines. The wheel of the barrow was very much worse for wear. It screamed its protest at having to do any work. Several times, the wheelbarrow collapsed, spilling our treasure to the ground. Each time we repaired it as best we could without tools or parts. Every time we stopped, it caused us to lose time. It got darker and the wheel got louder.
When the only light was coming from the stars, a shot was fired at us and then we were challenged by the pickets. Usually, the challenge comes first. We pleaded with them not to shoot, that we were fellow Confederates. There were more shots and calls of, "Liars, it's a trick". We shouted our names and said that we had corn. The shooting stopped. We were ordered to advance and be recognized and bring the corn.
We advanced and were recognized as being friendly. Lieutenant Williamson was there and demanded an accounting of our actions. We had not finished our account when he stopped us and inquired as to the contents of our sacks. Hancock opened them up and almost started a riot. One of the pickets asked if the sacks would have to be turned over to the regimental commissary. Lieutenant Williamson said, "No. Company I found it. Company I keeps it." There was a cheer for the Lieutenant. Although it was quite late, the company ate well.
We hope to be able to return to the farmhouse. We left behind the pickles.
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