Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1900-11-09

a way for his horse toward the cap
tured position. He disappeared in a
gully between two hills.
Now it came to pass that a Sptz-
bergen battery on the far right took
occasion to mistake the identity of
the Kicking Twelfth, and the captain
of these guns, not having anything
to occupy him in front, directed his
six 3.2's upon the ridge where the
tired Kickers lay side by side with
the Rostina dead. A shrapnel came
swinging over the Kickers, seething
and fuming. 1t burst directly over
the trenches, and the shrapnel, of
course, scattered forward, hurting mo-
body. But man screamed out to his
officer: "Sir, that is one of our own
batteries!" The whole line quivered
with fright. Five more shells
streaked overhead, and one flung it's
hail into the middle of the Third bat
talion's line, and the Kicking Twelfth
shuddered to the very center of it's
heart and arose, like one man, and
fed.
Col. Sponge, fighting, frothing at
the mouth, dealing blows with his
first right and left, found himself
confronting fury on horseback.
Richie was as pale as death, and his
eyes sent out sparks. what does
this conduct mean?" he flashed out
from between his fastened teeth.
Sponge could only gurgle: "The
battery-the battery-the battery!"
tt'rha hat -.
voice which sounded like pistol shots.
"Are you afraid of the guns you al
most took yesterday? Go back there,
you white livered towards! You
swine! You dogs! Ours! Ours!
Ours! Go back there!"
Most of the men halted and
crouched under the lashing tongue of
their maddened general. But one
man found desperate speech, and he
yelled: General, it is our own bat
terry that is firing on u.s."
Many say that the generals face
frightened until it looked like mask.
The Kicking Twelfth retired to COM
Portable place, where they were only
under the fire of the Rostina artillery.
The men saw a staff officer riding
over the distractions in a manner
calculated to break his neck directly.
The Kickers were aggrieved. but
the heart of the old colonel was cut in
twain. He even babbled to his majors,
talking like a man who is about to
die of simple rage. Ibid you hear
what he said to me? Did you hear
what he called us? Did you hear
what he called us?"
The majors searched their minds
for words to heal deep wound.
The Twelfth received orders to go
into camp upon the hill where they
had been insulted. Old Sponge looked
as If he were about to knock the aide
out of the saddle, but he saluted and
took the regiment back to the tenn
porary companionship of the Rostina
dead.
Maj. Gen. Richie never apologized
to Col. Sponge. When you are COM
manding officer you do not adopt the
custom of apologizing for the wrong
done to your subordinates. You ride
away; and they understand, and are
confident of the restitution to honor.
iNiNhic ODciCu Ills SltTn young
lips to Sponge in reference to the
scene near the hill of the Rostina
dead, but in time there was a Gem
eral Order No. 20, which spoke defn-
itely of the gallantry of his majesty's
Twelfth regiment of the line and its
colonel. In the end Sponge was given
a high decoration because he had been
badly used by Richie on that day.
Richie knew that it is hard for men
to withstand the shrapnel of their
friends.
A few days later the Kickers,
marching in column on the road, came
upon their friend, the battery, halt
ed in a field; and they addressed the
battery, and the captain of the bat
terry blanched to the tips of his ears.
But the men of the battery told the
Kickers to go to the devil-frankly,
freely, placidly, told the Kickers to
go to the devil.
And this story proves that it is
sometimes better to be a private
Black and White.