Year: 1865

The James River correspondent of the
Springfield Republican writes in bis last
letter: .-.... ...,. ..


Blood! that is the price to pay for hon
or nowadays. The public mind demands
blood. Without the loss of blood SOL
der is rarely hero. This the soldier is
made to understand by the tone of the
public press, by every personal letter that
touches on the subject, and especially by
all that he sees and hears if he is at the
North on furlough. The consequence is
that desire to be wounded is general
among officers in the army, merely to meet
the = requirements of home sentiment.
They know that no faithful service, no
daring, bravery, no unwayering endurance
is likely to win them praise at the far rear
as is an entry of their name on the list of
casualties.


They know that those who were slightly
wounded in the first fight of last spring, in
Meade's or Buffers army, and have been
since absent on leave, are to-day given ten
times more honor in their native town
than their fellows who remained at the
front and were ten times more exposed
to the flying bullets and hnratine ahail,
while suffering all the privations and hard
ships of the fearful six months of uninter-
rupted battle and campaigning. They
know that the bullet that breaks the skin
counts more than exposure which breaks
the constitution, or the blow which breaks
the heart. They are ambitious, else they
would be unfit for officers, and their ambi-
ton prompts them to crave q wound that
they may win respect al home. If they
are good officers, they don't want q se-
we're wound-not enough to take them off
duty, but just enough to count to their
credit.


I have heard officers boast of q wound,
and others speak enviously of q wounded
ccmrade, or bemoan their lack of at least
a scratch for the surgeon to report. Dur
ing an engagement last summer, while
men were falling on every side, a brave
and gallant general came hurriedly to our
colonel with half disappointed, half.
provoked look on his face, and swapping
his fingers, with an excited flourish, said,
81 declare, I've just seen one of your men
with wound that I'd give hundred dol
lars for this minute. It's beautiful
wound, right alongside the forehead, and
not bad enough to keep him laid up.'


Then he added, IS if to complain of his
own hard lot, 81 don't know why cant
get wounded. I've tried hard enough. I've
been right into the thickest of the fights
ever since l entered the service, and I've
never had scratch" "Have you seen
Capt. P.'s wound ?" was a question asked
over and over again in bis brigade after
the battle of Drury Bluff; and then the
wound was described with so much gusto.
GA capital wound! just above the tenn
pie; shows under the hair; but doesn t
make bad scar. That sets him up"
saw noble officer-a brigade commander
in hospital quite sick from exhaustion
after hard campaign. He spoke cheer
fully until some wounded officers were
named. Then his pity seemed moved
not for them, but for himself. "Oh,
dear!" he said, eff I could only have
been wounded. And I had the same
chance that any of them had. was one
of the first men in the Chapins Bluff fort,
while men were being killed all around
but wasn't hit. And here I am in hos
pital, sick!"


The tone in which he uttered the last
word was that of ineffable disgust BE
would apparently have rather lost both
legs in battle, than be brought down by
disease to unitness for duty. He knew
Just how the two things were viewed re-
latively at home. 81 didn't use to care
much about being wounded, until l went
home, said brave young captain who
had risen from the ranks, and was in his
fourth year of active service with one oi
the hardest fighting regiments in the entire
army. 81 find they don't count a man
anything if he hasn't been bit. They'd
hardly believe I'd been in real battle, be-
cause I'd nothing to show for it. Now
want some scar to take home" Poor fel-
low! His regiment was blown up in Fort
Fisher. Hewas probably sufficiently man
gled there to suit the most exacting north.
| ern censor. e go & 1t