Henry Whitworth
Sergeant
- Joined
- Oct 21, 2013
Hi folks. I just ran across this story last night and thought I'd share. It was written by Lieutenant John W. Bruce of Wisconsin who was wounded in the first day of fighting at Gettysburg and was left on the field overnight.
"I must have lost myself at times, either in sleep or crazed by pain and suffering, for I had such tantalizing, delicious dreams. I was back at Frederick, Maryland, passing through that beautiful city, and the ladies were out, at every gate, with tubs and pails, furnishing the army with water, and I was just reaching for the glass proffered, when some one would step before me and take it. At other times I was in a beautiful valley, with a crystal stream running through it, and all vanished and I awoke to the reality, that I was alone on the battlefield, and that terrible thirst was still tugging at my very vitals. But relief was at hand, I could hear the clank, clank of the canteen in the distance. No music was ever so sweet. Nearer and nearer it came. But oh, horrors! It was going by. I called as loudly as I could and I was heard. There came a rebel. What could I expect from him? He asked what he could do for me.
"Water," was my cry.
"I have not a drop," he said, "and do not know where to get any."
I asked him to take my canteen and go and see if he could not find me some. He said he was afraid he would run into our lines, and be shot, and that he could not do it, although he was very sorry. I told him to kill me then to run his bayonet through me, as I could not live in such misery.
The Rebel hesitated, "Tell you what it is, Yank. I have a canteen of milk which I gave my last quarter of your money for and I will divide with you."
The Confederate poured the milk into my canteen and gave me full half the milk. He spread a rubber and a wool blanket under me and put a knapsack under my head, a wool blanket over me, and tucked me up so gently that I could not keep back the tears... I had a good cry. The pressure of his hands, as he tucked the clothes around me, carried me back to my home, my mother, and my trundle bed. I must have fallen asleep then as I can remember nothing from that time till the morning, when my friend, the surgeon came to administer the stimulant."
Y'all have a half canteen of milk on me today, will you? Happy Thanksgiving.
"I must have lost myself at times, either in sleep or crazed by pain and suffering, for I had such tantalizing, delicious dreams. I was back at Frederick, Maryland, passing through that beautiful city, and the ladies were out, at every gate, with tubs and pails, furnishing the army with water, and I was just reaching for the glass proffered, when some one would step before me and take it. At other times I was in a beautiful valley, with a crystal stream running through it, and all vanished and I awoke to the reality, that I was alone on the battlefield, and that terrible thirst was still tugging at my very vitals. But relief was at hand, I could hear the clank, clank of the canteen in the distance. No music was ever so sweet. Nearer and nearer it came. But oh, horrors! It was going by. I called as loudly as I could and I was heard. There came a rebel. What could I expect from him? He asked what he could do for me.
"Water," was my cry.
"I have not a drop," he said, "and do not know where to get any."
I asked him to take my canteen and go and see if he could not find me some. He said he was afraid he would run into our lines, and be shot, and that he could not do it, although he was very sorry. I told him to kill me then to run his bayonet through me, as I could not live in such misery.
The Rebel hesitated, "Tell you what it is, Yank. I have a canteen of milk which I gave my last quarter of your money for and I will divide with you."
The Confederate poured the milk into my canteen and gave me full half the milk. He spread a rubber and a wool blanket under me and put a knapsack under my head, a wool blanket over me, and tucked me up so gently that I could not keep back the tears... I had a good cry. The pressure of his hands, as he tucked the clothes around me, carried me back to my home, my mother, and my trundle bed. I must have fallen asleep then as I can remember nothing from that time till the morning, when my friend, the surgeon came to administer the stimulant."
Y'all have a half canteen of milk on me today, will you? Happy Thanksgiving.
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