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Too many Slapjacks cause a soldier to dream of a feast at
home.
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On the road to Vicksburg, resolved to capture the city or
get badly whipped. We have not known defeat since we left Fort Donelson, and we
propose to keep our good record up. We have seen hard times on some hotly
contested fields, but mean to have nothing but victory, if possible, on our
banner.
The advance of our army has made a grand sweep, paaell-mell,
over the rebel works at Big Black River, routing the foe and capturing
twenty-five hundred prisoners with twenty-nine cannon. Their rifle pits were
quite numerous, but they were all on low ground, so that when the word was given
the Yankees rushed over them with the greatest ease. The rebs may be drawing us
into a trap, but as yet we have not a moments' fear of the result, for when
Grant tells us to go over a thing we go, and feel safe in going. Even in time
of peace we would not wish the great curtain that hides the future to be rolled
away, nor do soldiers now ask to know what lies before them. But every day
brings new scenes fraught with dangers, hair-breadth escapes or death, after
which the ranks close and move on undaunted. And our love of country still
grows as we go.
We camped within a few miles of Black River, perfectly
satisfied, though we have had no hand in the slaughter to-day. We rather
expected to be halted a few days at the river, where the enemy would surely be
strongly fortified, and where, as they could certainly spare the greater part
of their forces from Vicksburg if they would but bring them out, they could
make a desperate stand. We are now
fighting hard for our grub, since we
have nothing left but flour, and slapjacks lie to heavy on a soldier’s stomach.
But there is great consolation in reflecting that behind us Uncle Sam keeps
piled a bountiful supply all ready to be issued as soon as we can find a proper
halting place.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story
of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 25-6
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