"YANKEES!"

Sunday, April 2, 1865, west of Sutherland's Station

It is only by the loving grace of God that we are not all dead, dead, dead. At ten of the clock last night, the Yankees loaded every cannon in their army, pointed them at us and let fly. The barrage lasted all of a full four hours, not ceasing until two of the clock this morning.

For that time, we became one with the dirt. Some of us, using anything at hand, including hands, dug and dug deeper into the bowels of the earth. The result was that as we dug, the holes filled up with rainwater. We cared not a fig for being wet. We wanted to stay alive. Our works were being reduced, bit by bit. We feared that our entrenchments would be whittled down faster than we could be built up. If there was any musketry thrown at us, I never heard it. All I heard was thunder.

When the artillery ceased, we slowly, very slowly raised our heads to see which of us were still among the living. I found myself quite alive and for that, I am grateful. We were covered with mud aplenty. It was awhile before anyone spoke and then, only with a quiver in the voice. All of us were alive.

We did not want to, but we were obliged to peer over the top of our works to see if there were massed Yankees coming our way. We saw nothing and felt relieved. Deep down, we knew that the barrage would not be the end of it. We checked our muskets and our ammunition. Feverishly, we worked to repair the damage done to the works. We had not slept during the night thanks to the artillery and we dared not sleep now. Besides, we heard the sounds of axes coming from our front.

Civil War axe.

Lieutenant Williamson had just entered our portion of the works to see how we were. This was a little after four and a half of the clock. Someone yelled, "YANKEES!" There were several waves of blue coming straight for us. As it was so dark, it was difficult to distinguish one Yankee face from another. No matter. All we had to do was to fire upon any dark mass advancing our way. We fixed bayonets.

They came and we fired and they still came and we still fired. Volley after volley made great gaps in their ranks. At times, they wavered and recovered and came on. They had gotten close to us by cutting away the obstacles in front of our works. They cut paths through the barriers to get to us. That is what the sounds of axes was about.

Just like at Spottsylvania, the fighting became hand to hand. Bayonet met breast. Anything that could be used to kill someone was brought into play. Rocks, sticks, teeth and fists, it did not matter. Our lives depended on their being killed. Things were done that I shall not commit to this diary.

We held as long as we could, until the order to retreat was issued. Retreating can be a deadly affair. There is always a risk that a retreat may turn into a rout. I will just say that our retreat was a bit more rapid than usual. We retreated in good order up the Claiborne Road towards the railroad several miles. All of our faces were black with powder.

Once we reached a place called Sutherland's Station, the brigade was formed up, facing to the east. Our brigade was on the left of the line and was straddling the railroad. On our right were MacRae's Alabamians. They were facing south. To their right we could see other Confederates but we could not tell who they were. On our own left, there was no one.

That is where they hit us. The Yankees were flush with the victory of the morning and were looking for further laurels. We were trying to hold the railroad against the enemy swarm. We held our own for awhile. The battle earlier had caused us to use up a lot of our ammunition. During the retreat to the station, there was no chance to replenish our supply of cartridges. This placed us in the position of having to gather ammunition from the dead and wounded.

It was not enough. There were too many of them. We put great gaps in their ranks and they kept filling them with fresh troops. One might as well have tried to push back the ocean with a broom. The brigade and everyone else in the defense of the station withdrew to the east, towards the Appomattox River. All sense of order was lost as we retired as fast as we could, the Yankees firing at us the entire time.

At this moment, we are taking a short rest as some of us are scouting for a bridge or ford to cross the river. We need to put some distance between us and the Yankees. Lee needs the time to put things in order as do we.

Captain Kerr and Captain Stover are missing. So are McKay, Blackmon, Taylor, Robertson, Hunter, Hood, Howell and Gordon. They may be dead or they may be captured. I can verify that McKay was captured. He was four or five people away from me when he discharged his rifle. Before he could reload, two Yankees thrust their bayonets at him and commanded his surrender. Had he not complied, they would have killed him. Perhaps the others became separated in the confusion and will rejoin us later.

While we wait here, we have been taking stock of ourselves. I have two new holes in my jacket. I am not scratched. Terry had six holes in his blanket roll. In the entire company, which numbers perhaps but a dozen, there is not one hundred rounds total. There are no more rations. Some of us have no rifles or cartridge boxes.

This war has entered a very critical stage for our army and our country. I feel compelled to make more frequent entries in this diary lest any part of these times go unrecorded. Should I survive this war, I will turn to my diaries to remind me of these tribulations when my memory fails me.


I Send You These Few Lines


Captain Robert Kerr, commander of the regiment, and William Stover, commander of the company, are both captured. So are John McKay, Wesley Blackmon, James Taylor, J.H. Robertson, J.R. Hunter, Stafford Hood and Madison Gordon, all of Company I, are also captured. Another Gordon, Samuel, had previously deserted. John N. Howell has been wounded and now is on his way to a hospital in Farmville.


The brigades that were at Sutherland Station were McGowan's South Carolinians (this is Tooms' brigade), MacRae's North Carolinians, Scales' Alabamians, and Cooke's North Carolinians.

Samuel McGowan

William MacRae

Alfred Scales. He was on leave at the time of the breakthrough.  In his absence, his brigade was commanded by Colonel Joseph Hyman.

John R. Cooke

The Union division commander who broke the Confederate line at the Station was Nelson Miles. He was part of the expedition that went through Lakota country after George Custer and his 7th Cavalry were nearly wiped out in 1876. Miles' division was part of the Union V Corps under Major General Andrew Humphreys. The V Corps had belonged to Warren but Sheridan removed him shortly after the battle of Five Forks and replaced him with Humphreys.

Nelson Miles.

Andrew Humphreys

Tooms' squad, which had numbered 13 in January, now numbers seven. The whole company has only thirteen present along the south side of the Appomattox River, under Lieutenant James Williamson and Sergeant James Harper. There is just one corporal, the redoubtable Flynn. The only other corporal, William McAteer, was medically discharged in February.

Appomattox River