Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, 1902-07-17
man sighed:
'I'll take Your word for It."

of our middle aged chaps told me that
| both men were FreemaSOns. But the ag
| Ony for us was resumed after we start
| ed for camp, for the major, though
| true to the letter of. his duty, was a
| Freemason himself, so he halted US in
| front of the old mans farm long enough
to let the family come out and bid the
boy goodby, perhaps for the last time.
| They came down with n lantern, for 1t
was now quite dark, and the mother
| sobbcd and walled as she leaned over
the cart and did all her thinking aloud
| and told how handsome and CHEEKY her
| boy had looked when he took dinner at
| home a few hours before for the first
| time in months. His pretty sister.
| whom all of us had adored from time
! to time as she stood at the farm gate
| with her father to see the soldiers pass
| by, prayed aloud for heavens curse to
| fall on the man whose bullet had pierc-
| ed her brothers lungs, and l am sure
each of us trembled at the thought that
the bullet might have been his own.
| Near them stood a little brother and
sister crying in the pitiful, hopeless
| way that my brother Ned did when he
first heard that | was going to the war.
Yet this was not the only family that
| suffered by that engagement. Besides
the men killed outright, some of our
own comrades died afterward of their
wounds without father, mother sisters
or brothers to say goodby to them. Not
| all the missing were taken prisoners
h nnvIrr holP
of awful uncertainty and Of frantic
| letter writing passed before we learned
| this through our captured men who re-
turned when exchanged. One Of our
men, whose leg was broken by bullet
and who then was knocked senselesS
by n glancing shot on his head, f1oated
down the shallow stream some dis
tance before he came to his senses and
got ashore. Stanching his wound by
tying q strip of his shirt tightly around
his leg, he bound the broken limb in
twigs and then spent two whole days
and nights in crawling on his hands
and one knee to our nearest picket sta
ton, several miles distant. In the ear
ly spring n colored man who went to
the creek to fish found the remains Of
one Of our men beside a tree, mile
below the scene of the fight, and
scratched on the bark of the tree were
few words telling how the poor fel-
low had died a lingering death from
wounds exposure and starvation.
Yet the entire engagement, in which 4,
full third of the men on the
bridge were either killed, wounded or
captured within Is minutes, was in
military parlance merely a little
brush" Mention Of it never got into
the newspapers. There were thou
sands like 1t, except for the falling
bridge, during the war, the results be-
ing too small or gradual to be part OF
the history which was being made by
some great engagements which pro
portionately were not SO bloody. Per
haps the story of this one will explain
to some people why old soldiers when !
chatting together about the war talk
much of the march and camp, but very
little about fighting.
The fight at the bridge was the Sc
verest engagement In which our com. |
pany had ever participated, so l ought
to have been so absorbed by Ii as
to be insensible to anything but my |
duty as soldier. l am glad to say !
that loaded, aimed and fired as care.
fully as if-oh, as If 1t were the first
day Of the "open season" for quail In
the woods and fields near Summerton. |
Nevertheless I frequently detected my.
self in the act of looking about me tC
see what other men were doing. | saw
Cloyne loading and firing as placidly
and smilingly as II he were merely |
making out bills at the Summerton
lumber yard. Mick McTwyny was
handling his carbine as energetically
as If it were coffee MILL yet III his
excitement he was discharging 1t In
the direction of the sun, the tree tops
and his own toes, as IL the enemy were
atoms Of the surrounding air and could
be easily hit by q man with his eyes
shut. Meanwhile he was volubly ours.
ing his platoon in English and Irish,
with some assistance from the verdi.
age of the holy Scriptures and the vo.
cabulary Of the Bowery, for not firing
more rapidly and carefully.
Look at that little dhivil Brainardw
he shouted. He's putin rebs into pur
gatory as fast as If he was walkin' to
Sunday school in Summerton."
Brainardt The sound Of his name
startled me and caused a guilty pang
as my having been concerned only for
my own life impressed me. l looked
quickly abvs. for him and just in time
to see him roll sidewise from behind
fallen log, his face as white as the pa
per on which | am writing. Killed?
No, he moved. | hurried to his side
and asked him where he was hit.
"In the heart, Jack, but twas not the
enemy that hit me. Twas Mick Nc
Twyny's tongue. Great heavenl I've
vowed my life hundred times to the
saving Of men-you know was study
Ing for the ministry. But now I'm try
ing to kill men! It's all-but why
aren't you firing? See that red beard
ed face sticking out from behind tree
on the other side of the creek2 No, no!
Don't you fire at him! Here goesw
Brainard's lips closed SO tight that
I could not see their dividing line, SO
looked toward the Confederate with a
red beard, and a second after Brainard
fired / saw the red bearded man clap
a hand to his shoulder. Then the
angles Of his elbows and knees indicat-
ed that he had gone out Of action and
sat down behind his tree.
At that instant Brainard himself had |
q strip of skin and bit of flesh taken
from his cheek by shot from the
other side, but he did not know Of 1t
till the fight was over. / was recalled |
to sense Of duty by Cloyne. who
drawled:
what are you lounging for, Jack2
This isn't a Sunday school picnic"
nnicklu | cnunrnd my combustion by |