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| DeGolier's Battery going into action at the Battle of Raymond. |
Roused up early and before daylight marched, the 20th in the
lead. Now we have the honored position, and will probably get the first taste
of battle. At nine o'clock slight skirmishing began in front, and at eleven we
filed into a field on the right of the road, where another regiment joined us
on our right, with two other regiments on the left of the road and a battery in
the road itself. In this position our line marched down through open fields
until we reached the fence, which we scaled and stacked arms in the edge of a
piece of timber. No sooner had we done this than the boys fell to amusing
themselves in various ways, taking little heed of the danger about to be
entered. A group here and there were employed in “euchre,” for cards seem
always handy enough where soldiers are. Another little squad was discussing the
scenes of the morning. One soldier picked up several canteens, saying he would
go ahead and see if he could fill them. Soon after he disappeared, he returned
with a quicker pace and with but one canteen full, saying, when asked why he
came back so quick—“while I was filling the canteen I heard a noise, and
looking up discovered several Johnnies behind trees, getting ready to shoot,
and I concluded I would retire at once and report.” Meanwhile my bedfellow had
taken from his pocket a small mirror and was combing his hair and moustache.
Said some one to him, “Cal., you needn't fix up so nice to go into battle, for
the rebs won't think any better of you for it.”
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| John Calvin Waddell, Corporal Co. E., 20th Ohio. Killed May 12,1863. |
Just here the firing began in our front, and we got orders: “Attention!
Fall in—take arms—forward—double-quick, march!” And we moved quite lively, as
the rebel bullets did likewise. We had advanced but a short distance—probably a
hundred yards— when we came to a creek, the bank of which was high, but down we
slid, and wading through the water, which was up to our knees, dropped upon the
opposite side and began firing at will. We did not have to be told to shoot,
for the enemy were but a hundred yards in front of us, and it seemed to be in
the minds of both officers and men that this was the very spot in which to
settle the question of our right of way. They fought desperately, and no doubt
they fully expected to whip us early in the fight, before we could get
reinforcements. There was no bank in front to protect my company, and the space
between us and the foe was open and perfectly level. Every man of us knew it
would be sure death to all to retreat, for we had behind us a bank seven feet
high, made slippery by the wading and climbing back of the wounded, and where
the foe could be at our heels in a moment. However, we had no idea of
retreating, had the ground been twice as inviting; but taking in the situation
only strung us up to higher determination. The regiment to the right of us was
giving way, but just as the line was wavering and about to be hopelessly
broken, Logan dashed up, and with the shriek of an eagle turned them back to
their places, which they regained and held. Had it not been for Logan's timely
intervention, who was continually riding up and down the line, firing the men
with his own enthusiasm, our line would undoubtedly have been broken at some
point. For two hours the contest raged furiously, but as man after man dropped
dead or wounded, the rest were inspired the more firmly to hold fast their
places and avenge the fallen. The creek was running red with precious blood
spilt for our country.
One by one the boys were dropping out of my company. The second
lieutenant in command was wounded; the orderly sergeant dropped dead, and I
find myself (fifth sergeant) in command of the handful remaining. In front of
us was a reb in a red shirt, when one of our boys, raising his gun, remarked, “see
me bring that red shirt down,” while another cried out, “hold on, that is my
man.” Both fired, and the red shirt fell—it may be riddled by more than those
two shots. A red shirt is, of course, rather too conspicuous on a battle field.
Into another part of the line the enemy charged, fighting hand to hand, being
too close to fire, and using the butts of their guns. But they were all forced
to give way at last, and we followed them up for a short distance, when we were
passed by our own reinforcements coming up just as we had whipped the enemy. I
took the roll-book from the pocket of our dead sergeant, and found that while
we had gone in with thirty-two men, we came out with but sixteen—one-half of
the brave little band, but a few hours before so full of hope and patriotism,
either killed or wounded. Nearly all the survivors could show bullet marks in
clothing or flesh, but no man left the field on account of wounds. When I told
Colonel Force of our loss, I saw tears course down his cheeks, and so intent
were his thoughts upon his fallen men that he failed to note the bursting of a
shell above him, scattering the powder over his person, as he sat at the foot
of a tree. My bunkmate and I were kneeling side by side when a ball
crashed through his brain, and he fell over with a mortal wound. With the
assistance of two others I picked him up, carried him over the bank in our
rear, and laid behind a tree, removing from his pocket, watch and trinkets, and
the same little mirror that had helped him make his last toilet but a little
while before. We then went back to our company after an absence of but a few
minutes. Shot and shell from the enemy came over thicker and faster, while the
trees rained bunches of twigs around us.
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| Hand-tohand conflict. |
Although our ranks have been so thinned by to-day's battle
our will is stronger than ever to march and fight on, and avenge the death of
those we must leave behind. I am very sad on account of the loss of so many of
my comrades, especially the one who bunked with me, and who had been to me like
a brother, even sharing my load when it grew burdensome. He has fallen; may he
sleep quietly under the shadows of those old oaks which looked down upon the
struggle of to-day.
We moved up to the town of Raymond and there camped. I
suppose this will be named the battle of Raymond. The citizens had prepared a
good dinner for the rebels on their return from victory, but as they actually
returned from defeat they were in too much of a hurry to enjoy it. It is
amusing now to hear the boys relating their experiences going into battle. All
agree that to be under fire without the privilege of returning it is
uncomfortable—a feeling which soon wears off when their own firing begins. I
suppose the sensations of our boys are as varied as their individualities. No
matter how brave a man may be, when he first faces the muskets and cannon of an
enemy he is seized with a certain degree of fear, and to some it becomes an
occasion of an involuntary but very sober review of their past lives. There is
now little time for meditation; scenes change rapidly; he quickly resolves to
do better if spared, but when afterward marching from a victorious field such
good resolutions are easily forgotten. I confess, with humble pleasure, that I
have never neglected to ask God's protection when going into a fight, nor
thanking him for the privilege of coming out again alive. The only thought that
troubles me is that of falling into an unknown grave.
The battle to-day opened very suddenly, and when DeGolier's
battery began to thunder, while the infantry fire was like the pattering of a
shower, some cooks, happening to be surprised near the front, broke for the
rear carrying their utensils. One of them with a kettle in his hand, rushing at
the top of his speed, met General Logan, who halted him, asking where he was
going, when the cook piteously cried, “Oh General, I've got no gun, and such a
snapping and cracking as there is up yonder I never heard before.” The General
let him pass to the rear.
Thomas Runyan,* of Company A, was wounded by a musket ball
which entered the right eye, and passing behind the left forced it out upon his
cheek. As the regiment passed, I saw him lying by the side of the road, tearing
the ground in his death struggle.
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* NOTE.—When the regiment was being mustered out in July,
1865, Thomas Runyan. who had been left for dead, visited the regiment. He said
he came "to see the boys." He was of course, totally blind.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story
of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 15-9
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