Marine Hospital,
Savannah, Ga. — A great change has taken place since I last wrote in my diary.
Am in heaven now compared with the past. At about midnight, September 7th, our
detachment was ordered outside at Andersonville, and Battese picked me up and
carried me to the gate. The men were being let outside in ranks of four, and
counted as they went out, They were very strict about letting none go but the
well ones, or those who could walk. The rebel adjutant stood upon a box by the
gate, watching very close Pitch pine knots were burning in the near vicinity to
give light. As it came our turn to go Battese got me in the middle of the rank,
stood me up as well as I could stand, and with himself on one side, and Sergt.
Rowe on the other began pushing our way through the gate. Could not help myself
a particle, and was so faint that I hardly knew what was going on. As we were
going through the gate the adjutant yells out: “Here, here! hold on there, that
man can't go, hold on there!” and Battese crowding right along outside. The
adjutant struck over the heads of the men and tried to stop us, but my noble
Indian friend kept straight ahead, hallooing: “He all right, he well, he go!”
And so I got outside, and adjutant having too much to look after to follow me.
After we were outside, I was carried to the railroad in the same coverlid which
I fooled the rebel out of when captured, and which I presume has saved my life
a dozen times. We were crowded very thick into box cars I was nearly dead, and
hardly knew where we were or what was going on. We were two days in getting to
Savannah. Arrived early in the morning. The railroads here run in the middle of
very wide, handsome streets. We were unloaded, I should judge, near the middle
of the city. The men as they were unloaded, fell into line and were marched
away. Battese got me out of the car, and laid me on the pavement. They then
obliged him to go with the rest, leaving me; would not let him take me. I lay
there until noon with four or five others, without any guard. Three or four
times negro servants came to us from houses near by, and gave us water, milk and
food. With much difficulty I could set up, but was completely helpless. A
little after noon a wagon came and toted us to a temporary hospital in
the outskirts of the city, and near a prison pen they had just built for the
well ones. Where I was taken it was merely an open piece of ground, having wall
tents erected and a line of guards around it. I was put into a tent and lay on
the coverlid. That night some gruel was given to me, and a nurse whom I had
seen in Andersonville looked in, and my name was taken. The next morning,
September 10th, I woke up and went to move my hands, and could not do it; could
not move either limb so much as an inch. Could move my head with difficulty.
Seemed to be paralyzed, but in no pain whatever. After a few hours a physician
came to my tent, examined and gave me medicine, also left medicine, and one of
the nurses fed me some soup or gruel. By night I could move my hands. Lay awake
considerable through the night thinking. Was happy as a clam in high tide.
Seemed so nice to be under a nice clean tent, and there was such cool pure air.
The surroundings were so much better that I thought now would be a good time to
die, and I didn't care one way or the other. Next morning the doctor came, and
with him Sergt. Winn. Sergt Winn I had had a little acquaintance with at Andersonville
Doctor said I was terribly reduced, but he thought I would improve. Told them
to wash me. A nurse came and washed me, and Winn brought me a white cotton
shirt, and an old but clean pair of pants; my old clothing, which was in rags,
was taken away. Two or three times during the day I had gruel of some kind, I
don't know what. Medicine was given me by the nurses. By night I could move my
feet and legs a little. The cords in my feet and legs were contracted so, of
course, that I couldn't straighten myself out. Kept thinking to myself, “am I
really away from that place Andersonville?” It seemed too good to be true. On
the morning of the 12th, ambulances moved all to the Marine Hospital, or rather
an orchard in same yard with Marine Hospital, where thirty or forty nice new
tents have been put up, with banks about two feet from the ground, inside. Was
put into a tent. By this time could move my arms considerable. We were given
vinegar weakened with water, and also salt in it Had medicine. My legs began to
get movable more each day, also my arms, and to day I am laying on my stomach
and writing in my diary. Mike Hoare is also in this hospital. One of my
tentmates is a man named Land, who is a printer, same as myself. I hear that
Wm. B Rowe is here also, but haven't seen him.
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
93-5
