Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Post image for “The boys have started a new dodge on the citizens.”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.

“The boys have started a new dodge on the citizens.”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.

May 7, 2014

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

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.

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