Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1880-07-08
Detroit frec Frs.
Supporting the Guns.
1ss~ = Field Battery Csaes sasS Ae.
hoo.

Did YOU ever see n battery take position ?
Il hasn't the thrill OF a cavalry charge nor
the grimncss Of line Of bayonets moving
slowly and det-rminedly on, hu, there is
peculiar excitement about it that make, old
veterans rise in their saddles and cheer.
We have been fighting on the edge of the
woods. Every cartridge box has been emp
tied once and more, and fourth of the
brigade has melted away in dead. wounded
and missing Not cheer is heard IN the
whole brigade We know that We are being
driven foo, by ioot, and that when We break
back once more the line will 20 TO piece,
and the enemy will pour through the gap.
Here comes help
Down the crowded highway gallops bat
terry, withdrawn from some other position
20 ours. The field fence il scattered while
yuu could count thirty. and the guns rush
for the hall behind us. Six horses to piece
three riders Ia each gun. Over dry bitches
whsyc a farmer would not drive a wagon.
through olump. uf bushes. over logs foot
thick. every rider lash,ng his team and veil
ing-thc slght behind Us makes Us forget
the foe IN front. The guns Jump two feet
high the heavy wheels strike rock or log,
but not a horse slackcns his pace, not a can
nonccr loses his seat Six guns, six cais-
sons. sixty horses. eighty men, race from
the bro~ Of the hill As If he who reached il
iirs, would be knighted
\ moment ago the battery was q con
fused mob We look again. and the six
guns are IN position. the detached horses
hurry ins away. the ammunition chests open,
and along our line runs the command
Give them one more ,ollcy and fall back to
support the guns We have scarcely
oheyrd. when boom boom boom opens
the battery, and jets Of fire jump down and
seorch the trees under which We fought and
despaircd.
The shattered old brigade has chance to
breathe Tor the first time in three hours as
We form u line of battle behind the guns and
lie down. What grim, cool fellows those
cannoncers are Evcry man Is perfect
machine. Bullets plash dust into their
faces, but they do no, vince Bullets sing
over and around them, but they do not
dodge There zoe. one 10 the earth, shot
through the head as he sponged his gun.
The machinery lose. jus, one heat misses
away again as before.
Every gun is using short fuse shell. The
ground shakes and trembles-the roar shuts
out all sounds from battle line three miles
long and the shells 20 ,hrieking into the
swamp 10 cut trees short off NOV great
gaps in the bushes-to hunt out and scatter
and mangle men until their corpses cannot
be recognized as human. You would think
a tornado was bowling through the forest,
followed by hillows Of iire. and yet men live
through ii-aye press forward TO capture
the battery We can hear their shouts as
they form fer rush
Now the shells are changed for grape and
canister. and the guns are served so fast that
all reports blend into one mighty roar. The
shrek Of shell is the wickedest sound in
war, but nothing makes the flesh crawl ike
the demoniac singing. purrlng, whistlsng
grapeshot and the serpcntlike hiss of CAMS
ter. Mems legs and arms are not sho,
through. but torn off Heads are torn from
bodies and bodies cut in two. A round sho,
or she'll takes two men out Of the ranks as II
crashes through Grape and canister NOV
a swath and pile the dead on top Of each
other.
Through the smoke We see a swarm of
men. II is not battle line, but mob of
men desprate enough to bathe their bayonets
in the flame of the guns. The guns leap
from the ground almost rs they are depres-
sed on the foe and shreks and screams and
shouts blend into one awful and steady
cry. Twenty men at the battery are down,
and the firing is interrupted. The foe ac-
cept it as sign of wayering and come rush
ing on. They are not ten feet away when
the guns give them last shot. That dis
charge picks living men off their feet, and
throws them into the swamp, blackened !
and bloody mass.
Up now, as the enemy are among the guns /,
There is silence Of ten seconds, and then |
the fash and roar Of more than three thous-
and muskets and a rush forward with bayo- |
nets. For what? Neither on the right nor
left nor in front Of us is a living foe There |
are corpses around US which have been struck |
by three, four and even six bullets, and no
where on this acre of ground is a wounded |
man! The wheels of the guns cannot move |
until the blockade Of dead is removed. Men |
cannot pass from caisson to gun without |
climbing over winrows Of dead. Every gun |
and wheel is smeared with blood-every foot |
Of grass has its horrible stain.
Historians write Of the glory Of war |
Burial parties saw murder where historians
saw glory,