Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills, (8th Illinois Infantry)

June 2, 1864.

The 40th Illinois returned to-day, and I was right glad to see them back. We have lost no men to-day. The 17th Army Corps is beginning to come in. We advanced our works last night, commencing a new line in front of our regiment. The Rebels didn’t fire at us once, though they might as well killed some one as not. Colonel Wright and ten men picked out the ground and then I took a detail and went to work. By daylight we had enough of rifle pit to cover 50 men and had the men in it. I tell you it waked them up when our boys opened upon them. This is getting on the Vicksburg order. The troops are in splendid spirits and everything is going on as well as could be wished. I think this thing will be brought to a focus in a few days.

Five miles west of Acworth,

June 1, 1864.

At daylight this morning we left our position on the right and moved over here, six or seven miles, and relieved Hooker’s 20th Corps, which moved around to the left. It was ticklish business moving out from under at least 30 of the enemy’s guns, and we did it very quietly. They did not suspect it. We are now within 90 yards of the Rebel works, and the shooting is very lively. Only one of our regiment wounded to-day. I would much rather be here than where we were, for there they shot at us square from three sides, and here they can but from one front. This is dense woods and the ground between our works nearly level. There are two lines of works here, 30 yards apart; we occupy the rear works to-day, but will relieve the 6th Iowa to-morrow and take the front. This is the ground that Hooker had his big fight on on the 25th of May. He lost some 2,000 men killed and wounded. The woods are all torn up with canister, shell and shot, and bloody shoes, clothing and accoutrements are thick.

May 31, 1864.

Generals Sherman, McPherson, Logan and Barry visited our position yesterday. Sherman looks very well. Logan smiled and bowed in return to my salute as though he recognized me. During the fight of the 28th I was standing, when he was riding along our lines on the inside of the rifle pits (with a hatful of ammunition), just over my men. He stopped by me and said: “It’s all right, damn it, isn’t it?” I returned: “It’s all right, General.” The Rebels were quite busy last night running troops and artillery along our front both ways. Some think they planted a number of guns opposite us. I hear some of the officers talking as though a fight was expected to-day. Their sharpshooters are making it quite warm here this morning; several men have been struck, but none hurt seriously.

Seven p.m.—The Rebels have just finished throwing 126 shells at us, only 19 of which bursted. We expected they would follow it with a charge, but they hardly will attempt it this late. I think we have lost none to-day in the regiment. Their shell hurt no one. Logan was slightly wounded in the arm yesterday. Colonel Dickerman died this morning.

Monday, May 30, 1864.

At dark last night I was put in charge of our brigade skirmish line of four companies; by 9:30 I had everything arranged to our notion. About that time the musketry commenced fire on our left and continued for a half hour; it was very heavy. Some three or four pieces of artillery also opened on our side. That thing was repeated eight times during the night, the last fight being just before daylight. When I was down on the right of the line I could hear the Rebels talking about the fight and saying it was a mighty hard one, and “I wonder whether our men or the Yanks are getting the best of it.” These night fights are very grand. I understand this fighting occurred between Hooker and the “Johnnies.” Attacks were made by each side, repulses easy. I guess from what little I hear there was a good deal more shooting than hitting on both sides. I think it was the intention for us to move to the left last night, but so much fighting prevented it. I don’t know when I have been so used up as this morning, and the whole command is not far from the same condition, but a few hours’ sleep made me all right again this morning. The Rebels are much more tired than we; they have had no rest since leaving Dalton. One of their wounded, a captain, told me that one of their surgeons told him their loss since leaving Dalton in killed and wounded would amount to 25,000. That’s pretty strong, the third of it or 10,000 I could believe. I was relieved at dark to-day from skirmishing duty.

May 29, 1864, 4 p.m.

Have been in the rifle pits all day. We’re now expecting a charge from the Rebels, that is, our division commander is. I think they will lose an immense sight of men if they attempt it. News to-day of Davis moving his capital to Columbia, S. C, and of Grant driving Lee across the Savannah River.

May 28, 1864, 9 a.m.

Still in rifle pits. We have been treated to a terrific storm of shells, spherical case, and solid shot. The batteries are in plain sight of each other, and the gunners call it a thousand yards between them. I don’t think either battery does very fine work, but they make it more than interesting for us. A conical shell from a 12 pound gun passed through a log and struck a Company C man on the leg, only bruising him. Two solid shot fell in my company works, but hurt no one. Seven p.m.—Talk about fighting, etc., we’ve seen it this p.m. sure, of all the interesting and exciting times on record this must take the palm. At about 3:45 p.m., a heavy column of Rebels rose from a brush with a yell the devil ought to copyright, broke for and took three guns of the 1st Iowa Battery which were in front of the works (they never should have been placed there); the 6th Iowa boys, without orders, charged the Rebels, retook the battery and drove them back. They came down on our whole line, both ours and the 16th A. C, and for two hours attempted to drive us out. We repulsed them at every point without serious loss to us, but I believe they are at least 3,000 men short. In our brigade Colonel Dickerman, Lieutenant Colonel 6th Iowa commanding, and Major Gilsey, commanding 46th Ohio, are wounded. Besides these I don’t think our brigade lost over 80. It was a grand thing. I did not lose a man and only three companies of our regiment lost any. When the musketry was playing the hottest, Logan came dashing up along our line, waved his hat and told the boys to “give them hell, boys.” You should have heard them cheer him. It is Hardee’s Corps fighting us, and he promised his men a “Chickamauga,” but it turned out a “Bull Run” on their part. It is the same corps our regiment fought at Mission Ridge. Our line is very thin along here, but guess we can save it now. I heard a 40th boy get off an oddity this evening, he said: “If they come again, I am going to yell if there’s any danger of their taking us, ‘Worlds by Nation Right into line Wheel!’ and if that don’t scare them, I propose going.”

Near Dallas, Ga., May 27, 1864, 8 a.m.

There has been some very heavy fighting on our left this morning, and everywhere along the line. We have been moving in line since 6 o’clock, supporting skirmishers and the 3d Brigade. Have driven the Rebels about three-quarters of a mile. The 14th Corps must have had a severe fight about 6:30. The bullets have whistled pretty thick this a.m.

Skirmish line, 11 a.m.—Osterhaus and Smith (I think), have just had a big fight on our left. At 8:30 I was ordered to take Companies E, K, B and G, deploy them and relieve the 3d Brigade skirmishers. Deployed and moved forward over one-half mile through the very densest brush—couldn’t see six feet, expecting every minute to find the 3d Brigade skirmishers, but they had been drawn in, and we were right into the Rebels before we saw them. Three of my company were wounded in an instant and three of K’s taken prisoner, but our boys made the Rebels skedaddle, and all of them got away. Twenty-one Rebels came up in rear of Captain Smith and two of his men. Private Benson shot one of them, and Smith roared out for the rest to surrender, which they did. They (Rebels) said they would not have been taken if the Georgia brigade had not fallen back. I think that is doing pretty well for four companies of our regiment, running a whole brigade. Firing is very heavy all around us.

Twelve thirty m.—A chunk of Rebel shell lit 15 feet from me. Lively artillery firing right over head.

Four p.m.—At 2:15, after firing a few shells, the Rebels set up a yell along our whole front. I knew a charge was coming. At 2:30 another yell was much nearer. My men then commenced firing on them, but they came on yelling pretty well, but not as heartily as I have heard. They came jumping along through the brush more then, making the bullets rain among us. I think they could not fly much thicker. My men did nobly,but they were too many for us, and we had to fall back. I heard their officers halloo to them, “to yell and stand steady,” and they were right amongst us before we left. Our line of battle checked them and made them run. I lost A. Huffard—killed; Seth Williams—died in two hours; Wm. Gustine—severely wounded; E. Suydam—ditto; S. Hudson— ditto; H. Stearns—slight wound; J. H. Craig—ditto; F. Cary —ditto; W. Roberts—ditto; W. G. Dunblazier— captured.

Seven p.m.—I tell you this was exciting. My men all stood like heroes (save one), and some of them did not fall back when I wanted them to. The bush was so thick that we could hardly get through in any kind of line. Gustine and Suydam were about 20 feet on my left when they were shot, but I couldn’t see them. The Rebels were not 15 feet from them. I had 31 men on the line, and nine killed and wounded, and one prisoner, is considerable of a loss. They took six more of Company K prisoners, but three of them got off. I don’t think anyone can imagine how exciting such a fracas as that is in thick brush. As quick as our line started the Rebels running, I went back on the ground, and found a lot of dead and wounded Rebels. Every prisoner of the 20th Georgia had whiskey in his canteen, and all said they had all issued to them that they wanted. I never say such a dirty, greasy, set of mortals. They have had no rest since they left Dalton. On account of my skirmishers losing so heavily, we have been relieved from the line, and are now in rifle pits, and are supporting those who relieved us.

Pumpkin Vine Creek, near Dallas, Ga., May 26, 1864, 8 a.m.

We did not make more than seven or eight miles yesterday, on account of some bad road that troubled the trains very much. We got into camp at dark, just as a thunderstorm broke. We hurried up our arrangements for the night—kicking out a level place on the hillside to sleep—gathering pine boughs to keep the water from washing us away, and spreading our rubbers over rail frames. Everything just finished, was just pulling our stock of bed clothes over me (one rubber coat), when the brigade bugle sounded the “assembly.” It was dark as pitch and raining far from gently—no use grumbling—so everybody commenced yelping, singing, or laughing. In ten minutes we were under way, and though we didn’t move a mile, every man who didn’t tumble half a dozen times would command good wages in a circus. We finally formed line of battle on a bushy hillside, and I dropped down on the wet leaves and slept soundly until 1 o’clock, and woke up wet and half frozen, took up my bed and made for a fire and dried out. Do you remember the case when the Saviour commanded a convalescent to take up his bed and walk? I always pitied that man, carrying a four-post bedstead, feathers, straw and covering and failed to see it, but if he had no more bedding than I had. I can better understand it. Heavy cannonading all the p.m. yesterday. It seemed some five or six miles east; don’t understand the way matters are shaping at all. Sherman has such a way of keeping everything to himself. The country between Van Wirt and Dallas is very rough, but little of it under cultivation; along this creek are some nice looking farms. The Rebels were going to make a stand, but didn’t.

Two p.m.—We started at 8 this morning, and have not made more than one and one-half miles. Soldiers from the front say that Hardee’s Corps fronts us two miles ahead, and that he proposes to fight. I have heard no firing that near this morning, but have heard artillery eight or ten miles east. A number of prisoners have been sent back, who all report Hardee at Dallas. I think Thomas now joins our left. McPherson last night rode up to some Rebel pickets, who saluted him with a shower of hot lead, fortunately missing him. Osterhaus’ commissary drives along a lot of cattle for the division. Last night he got off the road and drove them into a party of secesh, who took commissary, beef and all. Back at Kingston, a big box came to General Harrow with heavy express charges. An ambulance hauled it 20 miles before it caught up with him, and on opening it he found a lot of stones, a horse’s tail, and a block of wood with a horses’ face pinned on it labeled, “head and tail of your Potomac horse.” At Van Wirt before we got there the Rebels had a celebration over Lee’s capturing Grant and half of his army. There’s a great deal of ague in the regiment. We will have a great deal of sickness after the campaign closes. I have only seen one man at home in Georgia who looked capable of doing duty as a soldier. My health is excellent. This creek runs into the Talladega river.

One mile south of Dallas, 2 p.m. After a lively skirmishing Jeff C. Davis’ division of the 14th Army Corps occupied Dallas at 2 p.m. The Rebels retired stubbornly. We passed Dallas about dark, and are now the front and extreme right of the whole army. I guess fighting is over for the night. Two very lively little fights have occurred before dark. The heavy fighting yesterday was Hooker. He whipped and drove them four miles, taking their wounded.

Four miles southeast of Van Wirt, Ga.,

May 24, 1864.

Short march to-day—because it is a full day’s march from here to water. At Van Wirt we turned east on the Atlanta road. Will pass through Dallas to-morrow. My company was rear guard to-day for the brigade. One of my men spilled a kettle of boiling coffee last night, filling his shoe. All the skin on the top of his foot that did not come off with the socks is in horrible blisters. The surgeon said he would have to march, and he has, all day, don’t that seem rather hard? You remember how I used to detest fat meat? If I didn’t eat a pound of raw pickled pork to-day for dinner, shoot me. Things don’t go nearly as well as on the march from Memphis. ‘Tis much harder, though we don’t make as many miles per day. One reason is the weather is much warmer, and another thing, each division then marched independently, and now all three of them camp together every night. Dorrance is nearly sick to-night. I thought I heard some artillery firing this morning, but guess I was mistaken. The cavalry report they have not found any force of Rebels yesterday or to-day. Small-pox has broken out in the 6th Iowa—some 20 cases.