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

May 12th.—We are in just such a camp as I was in once near Jacinto, Miss. Hills, hollows and splendid pines. Pine knots can be picked up by the bushel, and the pitch smoke will soon enable us to pass for members of the “Corps d’Afrique.” I am perfectly disgusted with this whole business. Everything I have written down I have had from the Division Staff, and that without pumping. I am beginning to believe that there is no enemy anywhere in the vicinity, and that we are nowhere ourselves, and am sure that the generals do not let the staff of our division know anything. The railroad was not cut at daylight this morning, for I heard a train whistle and rattle along it. I do know for certain that we are putting up some huge works here, and that they run from mountain to mountain across this gorge.

Six miles from Resaca, May 11, 1864.

We had a real hurricane last night, and a tremendous rain-storm. We lay right in the woods, and of course thought of the Point Pleasant storm and falling trees, but were too lazy to move, and thanks to a bed of pine boughs, slept good and sound. There is a scare up this morning. We have moved a mile toward the front, and building breast-works is going on with the greatest life. A full 1,000 axes are ringing within hearing. Our division is drawn up in column by brigade and at least another division is in rear of us. The latest rumor is that “the railroad has surrendered with 40,000 depots,”

Same camp, May 10, 1864.

The 9th Illinois Infantry lost about 30 men, killed, wounded and missing, yesterday. We find the enemy too strong on the railroad to take, but have succeeded in breaking it so no trains can pass. Gerry’s division, of the 20th Corps, came up at dark, and the rest of the corps is within supporting distance. Rations were issued to us this evening—one-ninth rations of meat for three days just made a breakfast for the men. More rumors are flying than would fill a ream of foolscap. We had orders this p.m. to march to the front at 2 p.m., but did not go.

Seven miles west of Resaca, 15 miles from Dalton,

May 9, 1864.

Yesterday we traveled southeast, crossing six or seven ridges, one or two of which were quite high. Taylor’s was the highest. To-day we have made only about eight miles all the way through a pass in Rocky Face ridge, which is a high mountain. There are four divisions ahead of us. A regiment of Kentucky cavalry (Rebel) slipped in between ours and the division ahead of us, trying to capture a train. The 9th Illinois Infantry had the advance of our division and killed 30 Rebels and took four prisoners, losing only one man killed and their lieutenant colonel slightly wounded. Pretty good. Dodge has got the railroad and broken it, so we hear. The fight seems to be a stand-off until to-morrow. We are in line of battle for the first time on the trip, and the ordnance train is ahead of the baggage. Just saw an officer from the front (your letter of the 3d of April received this minute); he says Dodge is within a mile of Resaca, and driving the enemy, and will have the town by dark. Has not cut the railroad yet. This officer saw a train arrive from Dalton, with some 2,500 Rebel troops aboard. McPherson and Logan are both on the field. Some Rebel prisoners taken to-day say they intend making this a Chickamauga to us. Have a nice camp. There is some little forage here, but it is nothing for the number of troops we have.

May 8, 1864, 1:30 a.m.

Have about given up the train before daylight, so will curl down and take a cool snooze, minus blankets. Made 11 miles to-day.

Fifteen miles southwest of Dalton, May 8, 1864.

We traveled to-day over a better country than I have seen for five months; the Yanks were never seen here before. All the negroes and stock have been run off. A little shooting commenced in the front to-day, and we passed a deserted signal station and picket post. Saw some Rebels on a mountain south of us just before we went into camp. Dispatch came to Sherman this p.m. that Grant had whipped Lee three successive days. Our fight will come off to-morrow. I entertain no doubt as to the result. They have cut us down to three-quarter rations of bread and one-fourth rations of meat.

Two miles south of the Gordon’s Mills crossing of
the Chickamauga,

May 7, 1864, 12 m.

We started at 8 this morning and made this by 11. We are now waiting for two or more divisions of the 16th Corps to file into the road ahead of us. I think they are coming from Ringold. A circular of McPherson’s was read to us this morning before starting, telling us we were about to engage the enemy and giving us some advice about charging, meeting charges, shooting low, and telling us not to quit out lines to carry back wounded, etc., and intimating that he expected our corps to occupy a very warm place in the fight, and to sustain the fighting reputation of the troops of the department of the Tennessee.

The men talk about hoping that the divisions now going ahead will finish the fighting before we get up, but I honestly believe they’d all rather get into a battle than not. It is fun to hear these veterans talk. I guess that about two-thirds of them got married when they were home. Believe it will do much toward steadying them down when they return to their homes. They almost all say that they had furlough enough and were ready to start back when their 30 days were up.

It is hot as the deuce; two of our men were sun struck at Lookout Mountain on the 3rd.

Dust is becoming very troublesome. I am marching in a badly-fitting pair of boots, and one of my feet is badly strained across the instep, pains me a good deal when resting. That and my sprained wrist make me almost a subject for the Invalid Corps, but I intend to carry them both as far as Atlanta, after our “Erring Brethren,” if I have no further bad luck. One of my men, when he rolled up his blanket this morning, found he had laid on a snake, and killed him—poor snake!

Near LaFayette, Ga., 12 m., May 7, 1864.

Have just got into camp and washed my face. Four divisions filing into the road ahead of us, delayed us five whole hours, and their trains have made us seven hours marching 8 miles. Somebody says we are 19 miles from Rome. The boys have started a new dodge on the citizens. One of my men told me of playing it last night. When we camped for the night he went to a house and inquiring about the neighbors found out one who had relatives North; and something of the family history. Then he called on this party and represented himself as belonging to the northern branch of the family, got to kiss the young lady cousins, had a pleasant time generally, and returned with his haversack full of knicknacks, and the pictures of his cousins, with whom he had promised to correspond. At one house on the road to-day 10 or 12 women had congregated to see the troops pass. An officer stopped at the house just as our regiment came up, and the boys commenced yelling at him, “Come out of that, Yank;” you could have heard them two miles. Never saw a man so mortified. Colonel Wright tells me we are about seven miles from the Rebels at some ridge. We will get into position to-morrow and fight next day—that is, they would, if I were not present. We camped in a “whale” of a sweet potato patch, and the boys have about dug up the seed and gobbled it.

Camp at “Gordon’s Mills,” Ga., May 6, 1864.

We lay in camp on Chattanooga creek, two and one-fourth miles this side of Chattanooga, until 11 this morning, waiting for the division train to be loaded and turning the bulk of our camp and garrison equipage over to the corps quartermaster to store for us until we return from this campaign.

We have cut our baggage for the regiment to what can be put in three wagons. Of course, we do not expect to find any of our things again that we leave. The 6th Iowa Veterans rejoined us last night. I notice that all these veterans come back dressed in officer’s clothing. They have, I expect, been putting on a great many airs up North, but I don’t know who has any better right. The last four miles of our march today has been through the west edge of the Chickamauga battlefield. I believe the battle commenced near these mills on our right.

It is supposed that we are moving to get in rear of Dalton. No more drumming allowed, so I suppose we are getting in the vicinity of Rebels, and that skirmishing will commence in about two days. The Big Crawfish springs near the mill is only second to the one that supplies Huntsville with water, neither one as large as the Tuscambia spring, but much more Beautiful. General Harrow had a fuss with our Company A last night. He struck one or two of the men with a club and put the lieutenant (Willison) under arrest. * * * It is impossible to get along with him. We heard last night that Grant had crossed the Rapidan in four places, but don’t know where. We know nothing about what is going on here, but feel certain that the Rebels will get a tremendous thrashing if they don’t move promptly. Marched 11 miles to-day.

Between Chattanooga and Rossville, May 5, 1864.

It has been a very warm day, and the 16 miles between 8 a, m. and 4 p.m. counts a hard march. The dust in many places has been ankle deep.

We again crossed the point of old Lookout. I think since yesterday morning at least 20 trains loaded with troops have passed us while in sight of the railroad, with from 15 to 20 cars in each train.

We hear to-day that Dalton is not yet ours, but Sherman only waits for his old corps before attacking.

Have sent everything back to Chattanooga to store. It is estimated that we will have over 100,000 men at Dalton day after to-morrow.

Will keep a diary and send every opportunity.

Whiteside, May 4, 1864.

The day’s march has been much more pleasant than any of us expected. Most of the dead mules have been buried, and the road much improved, especially through the narrows. We smelled a number of mules, though, after all the improvements. This, Whiteside, is like Bridgeport, a portable town, with canvas covers and clapboard sides.

The boys have been catching some nice fish in a little stream by our camp this evening. Made about 15 miles to-day.