By Dave Rasdal
As we celebrate Independence Day, this in the 150th year since the start of the Civil War, I find it appropriate to reminisce with some readers about relatives who fought in the war between the states. They are readers who responded to my call for war letters sent home — keep them coming, please, for I’ll do this again.
I also find it interesting that July 4, 1861, was but 85 years after the declaration of Independence issued to Great Britain on July 4, 1776. Feasibly, someone could have lived through both.
Lola Fortner of Marion sent a letter from her great-great-uncle Richard Andrews, to an aunt and uncle Nov. 26, 1863, from a camp near Memphis.
He writes (I’ve corrected direct quotes) that he’s happy to be “among the living” but hasn’t heard from anyone for a while so decided to write. He had been in the Army two years, so filled them in on his adventures including the Battle of Shiloh on April 6—7, 1862, in southwestern Tennessee.
“Dear uncle,” he says, “I am in hopes that I never will have to witness another such battle for two days. There hardly was any cessation of roaring of musketry and cannon and after we had fought over the ground Sunday and Monday the dead lay very thick. Such a sight I never saw nor do I ever want to again.”
He describes a later battle where “the rebs” charged a front three times before giving up and says he’s preparing to winter in Memphis. Then he gets a philosophical.
“Dear uncle, I do not know how you stand on war questions, whether you are in favor of arming the Negroes or not. I will give you my opinion of it. I think that arming the Negroes is the best thing they ever done toward putting down The Rebellion. And I want The Rebellion put down.
“I was utterly opposed to interfering with the slaves until they forced the war on us, and now I say strike it down.”
Later he adds, “Dear uncle it is hard for a man to be away from his family but I am in hopes that it will not be long till I will be permitted to return home and enjoy the sweets of peace again.”
Lola also sent an affidavit confirming the discharge of her great great grandfather, Matthew Steen (left), after he suddenly became ill in the head and blind after a skirmish in Missouri. Hauled away in an ambulance, he later “had to be led to his meals and about his house.”
Under the category war is hell, but it’s what we’re used to, comes a tale from Norman Jellison of Cedar Rapids who sent a 1943 clipping from the Decorah Journal about Civil War veterans on her mother’s side.
George Linnevold, who enlisted in the Iowa Infantry in 1861, (his brother, Andrew enlisted in 1862) had a few harrowing experiences as he served the duration of the war. For one, he was taken for dead when he collapsed on a street in Vicksburg of sun stroke. And later, in St. Louis, he and comrades “trembled with fright” at the prospect of facing a southern “guerrilla band” that had “demoniacal brigands of outlaws.” But the funny part came upon his return home after his mother prepared a special bed for him and a friend.
“Among other special touches, she placed a fine thick feather tick on the bed. The returning soldiers, who had not slept on a bed for three years, rolled and tossed in the soft bed, unable to rest on such luxuriance. Finally they scrambled out of the bed, stretched out on the floor with their boots under their heads, pulled their army blankets up over their prone bodies in the wonted style and dropped off in sound slumber.”
Comments: (319) 398-8323; dave.rasdal@sourcemedia.net
SOURCE: Posted HERE July 4, 2011 at Eastern Iowa Life. Used with permission.
No comments:
Post a Comment