Raw, rainy, and dismal, with the wind howling from
northwest, striving to get the mastery. And there are 150,000 of our men on a
strip of land, hemmed in with annihilating batteries in front and the
Rappahannock behind. Ten thousand of them just struck down. Wet and cold, with
the winter close at hand, — as near as those inexorable batteries. This was
written in the morning. In the evening it was known that last night our army
was glad to get back across the river without being pursued. How terrible to
think of so many thousands losing life or limb on such stupid plans! So we can
raise larger armies than any other nation, and make generals as fast as paper
money. We can be so rich that a thousand millions may be squandered and not be
felt. But we cannot make soldiers or leaders, because the whole system only
makes offices from $12 a month to $10,000 a year, but makes not discipline nor
military spirit. It is an army of postmasters or other civil placemen with arms
in their hands. The nation only wants one man — a General!
SOURCE: Madeleine Vinton Dahlgren, Memoir of John A. Dahlgren, Rear-admiral United States Navy, p.
382-3
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