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| Rifle-Musket and Appendages. |
Sunday; and how little like the Sabbath day it seems. Cannon
are still sending their messengers of death into the enemy's lines, as on week
days, and the minnie balls sing the same song, while the shovel throws up as
much dirt as on any other day. What a relief it would be if, by common consent,
both armies should cease firing to-day. It is our regiment’s turn to watch at
the front, so before daylight we moved up and took our position. We placed our
muskets across the rifle pits, pointing towards the fort, and then lay down and
ran our eyes over the gun, with finger on trigger, ready to fire at anything we
might see moving. For hours not a movement was seen, till finally an old
half-starved mule meandered too close to our lines, when off went a hundred or
more muskets, and down fell the poor mule. This little incident, for a few
minutes, broke the monotony. A coat and hat were elevated on a stick above our
rifle pits, and in an instant they were riddled with bullets from the enemy.
The rebels were a little excited at the ruse, and probably thought, after their
firing, there must be one less Yankee in our camp. In their eagerness a few of
them raised their heads a little above their breastworks, when a hundred
bullets flew at them from our side. They all dropped instantly, and we could
not tell whether they were hit or not. The rebels, as well as ourselves,
occasionally hold up a hat by way of diversion. A shell from an enemy's gun
dropped into our camp rather unexpectedly, and bursted near a group, wounding
several, but only slightly, though the doctor thinks one of the wounded will
not be able to sit down comfortably for a few days. I suppose, then, he can go
on picket, or walk around and enjoy the country.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege
of Vicksburg, p. 34-5
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