Amongst the ambulance drivers at Arkansas Post

     John Adams of the 57th Ohio saw plenty of hard service in his three years with the Army of the Tennessee, but the hardest day of all may have been January 11, 1863 at Arkansas Post. On that day, the young lieutenant drew the unenviable assignment of commanding the regiment's ambulance corps, and as he relates below in an excerpt from his memoirs, it was one of the "worst jobs" of the war. Between dealing with recalcitrant and cowardly ambulance drivers, shooing shirking officers back to the front, and having to walk the decks of a steamer loaded with wounded men, Adams truly lived the "war is hell" experience on January 11, 1863. 

The ambulance corps at work. "Generally speaking, the driver of an ambulance is a confirmed coward," noted Lieutenant Adams. "At least most of my drivers were." 


We left the Yazoo, went up to White River, fought the battle of Arkansas Post, which was one of the hardest fought battles for the time it lasted, in the whole war.  We were successful in the fight. 

I was detailed to take charge of the ambulance train of the 15th Army Corps; and now comrades, if you never took charge of an ambulance train, you never want to, for it is one of the worst jobs.  I must tell you about it.  I had command of all the stretcher carriers, as well as the ambulance train.  Generally speaking, a driver of an ambulance, is a confirmed coward, at least most of my drivers were.  On that day, I was going to the front, and working up as close as I could.  I was riding a horse in front, and as we raised a slight elevation, the Rebels opened on us, and along came a cannon ball, killing both horses in the head ambulance, and completely demoralizing all my drivers, except three.  I took in the situation at a glance, rode back along that line, whipped out my revolver and threatened in no very mild tones to shoot the first driver who refused to get into his ambulance or left it during that day, and I finally succeeded in getting them all back.  Of course, there are a few brave ambulance drivers, but generally speaking, they are not.  When a man is so mean that the captain cannot do anything with him, and he is too big a coward to keep his place in the ranks, he is made an ambulance driver.  Did you ever, in all your life, since the war, hear a comrade brag or even own up that he drove an ambulance?  If you have it is more than I have.  Why, I will give a chromo, now, to see a driver.

Arkansas Post located upriver from Napoleon, Arkansas. General John McClernand commanded this morale-boosting campaign in the immediate aftermath of the debacle at Chickasaw Bayou. It netted roughly 5,000 Confederate prisoners and secured the vulnerable flank of the Union's supply lines up and down the Mississippi River from interdiction emanating from the Arkansas River. 


          Well comrades, that day’s work was a hard one on me.  I never worked so hard in all my life as I did that day and the heart-rending scenes-no tongue can describe. I saw one poor fellow on that field-in fact I was not more than ten feet from him when it happened-who was a gunner, and when in the act of ramming home a shell, a ball swept over his gun, cutting both his arms off within four inches of his body.  He fell, called for me and I went to him and had him carried to the rear.  When we got there, he said with tears in his eyes; “Lieutenant, for the sake of my wife and my six little ones, take your revolver out and blow my brains out.  I am of no use to them anymore, (shaking the bloody stumps) the hands that earned those I love better than life or living are gone and I want to die.”

Second Lieutenant John Adams, 57th Ohio


          I knelt down by his side and tried to comfort him, but I could not speak to him.  His look of anguish and his appeal to me was more than I could bear.  When I next saw him was on the boat, a corpse.  God had heard his petition and called him home.  Many scenes of that kind we had this day.  Men dying, asking someone to pray over them-oh, how I wished I could pray that day.  I tried and failed; others calling for another, others for water, and others for death.

          My orders were that if I saw any stragglers to send them to the front.  I had little experience in that line.  I heard a terrible groaning and went to the spot.  There lay a captain of some company groaning for all that was out.  I asked him where he was wounded and he gave no reply.  I asked again and he said he was not wounded but had a terrible pain.  I knew then that he was a coward; pulled out my revolver and said as coolly as I could: “get up you coward, and return to our boys!”

He arose to his feet and demanded on what authority I ordered him to the front.  He got mad, then so did I. He said; “You are nothing but a lieutenant.” I replied; “You are nothing but a coward.  You have deserted your company, and there is not a man in your command who is not more worthy to wear those stripes than you.  Now go you cowardly whelp, or I will shoot you on the spot!”  He went.  I followed him close up to the front and delivered him over to his colonel, telling him that if I ever caught him in the rear again, I would shoot him like a dog, and the colonel said “amen.”

          We captured 5,000 prisoners and upwards that day.  When I saw the white flag floating on the works, I spurred up my horse and was among the first inside.  Horrors! What a sight met my eyes.  A man had been hit with a shell, and all that was left of him was his feet sticking in his shoes, and his head sticking in his old slouch hat.  His feet were standing together, just as they were when last alive, and all the balance of him gone; not a vestige to be seen of him, save his hat and feet.

          After the surrender and I had gotten all the wounded on the boat, I went aboard to make my report. Entering into the washroom, which the surgeons had used for an operating room, was a pile of human flesh and bones, enough to fill a three bushel baskets: arms, legs, feet, fingers, ears, every conceivable part of a man’s body that could be amputated.  I made my report and found that my ambulances had that day hauled in nearly 600 wounded.



          The doctor said to me, “Lieutenant, go through the boat and see your cargo, for you will have to take them to St. Louis.”  I was pleased at first.  The thought of getting to St. Louis was pleasant.  The wounded were ranged on both sides of the cabin, and the staterooms were all full.  Those who laid in the cabin were placed feet to feet, with a space between just wide enough to permit a person to walk along.  I looked over the long rows of wounded and dying, and thought of the suffering.  While I was standing meditating over the scene, the doctor slapped me on the shoulder and bade me go on and look through.  I went, and the further I went the sicker I got.  I had proceeded about half way when I came to a horrible sight that I shall never forget.  A man was in the agonies of death.  His leg was off above the knee, and it was flopping up and down on the deck floor, and every time it came down the blood would fly all over me.  Beside him was a man shot through the thigh, and lying with his back to the dying man, swearing and using the following language,

          “Why in the devil don’t you lay still now, when I tell you; what a damned hammering you keep up.  A man could never sleep with all the fuss you keep up.  If you don’t keep still now, I will hit you a crack that you will remember.”  But the hammering grew weaker and weaker until it ceased all together, and the man was dead; and all the time I stood there as if rooted to the spot.  When all was over with the man, I walked on and how terrible that sickening smell of human blood.  I reached the rear end of the boat, and it was a long one, turned around, looked over the vast sea of wounded, dying and dead, listened to their groans and cries until I could stand it no longer; went out into the cool air and sat down.

          I returned to duty with my regiment, and heard the roll call again.  How sad it is to hear the roll call after a hard day’s fight.  You know it commences with the captain, then his lieutenants, then sergeants, then corporals, and privates.  The orderly calls the roll, and some fail to respond; they have gone and joined the army up yonder, but it won’t do well to dwell here, I must move on.

Specialized hospital vessels such as the Red Rover were just starting to make their appearance in the west by the time of Arkansas Post. The ubiquitous river steamers, hauling everything from cargo to soldiers to artillery and even cattle, were pressed into duty carrying wounded soldiers away from the battles. 

To read more about the service of the 57th Ohio, check out our new book about the regiment available here. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular Posts

Arming the Buckeyes: Longarms of the Ohio Infantry Regiments

Image
     A common question that comes up in conversation about Civil War Buckeye regiments is "What were they armed with?" We are fortunate in that the state of Ohio kept good records of how the regiments were armed when they went into service, this being especially true for those regiments which went into service in 1861 and 1862. The state adjutant general's reports for 1861 and 1862 have been heavily drawn upon to construct this article, as well as consultation with Phil Spaugy who has done extensive research on how Ohio's troops were armed during the war.      Buckeyes carried a fairly wide variety of weapons into the field, and the below article breaks this down into weapons of both domestic manufacture and imported arms. The early days of the war found the state of Ohio practically bereft of longarms; as an example, when the 1st and 2nd Ohio Volunteer Militia left the state in late April 1861, they left unarmed, being armed at Lancaster, Pennsylvania on their way to
Read more

Dressing the Rebels: How to Dye Butternut Jeans Cloth

Image
     In the early days of the Civil War,  the Southern states found themselves with an abundance of cotton but a shortage of cloth with which to make army uniforms. The trade in cloth prior to the war had largely been to send raw cotton or wool north to New England (or Great Britain) where it was converted into usable cloth; but now that trade was broken and the Southern states were thrown upon their own resources in their efforts to properly clothe the Confederate army.  This collection of Confederate enlisted men's frock coats and shell jackets gives some indication of the variety of shades of butternut worn during the war. All of them are shades of yellow brown, some heavier on the yellow and some heavier on the brown. The blue used around the collar or as rank insignia indicates that the soldier was in the infantry. Surviving Confederate uniforms are considered rather rare and command quite a healthy price in the collecting market. For an in-depth study of how Confederate jacke
Read more

Bullets for the Union: Manufacturing Small Arms Ammunition During the Civil War

Image
       Civil War bullets are perhaps the most common item collected from the era; the two armies expended bullets by the millions during the four years’ conflict and spent or deformed bullets of all shapes and sizes have made fascinating and affordable collectibles since the guns went silent in 1865.       I recently acquired a display piece featuring 35 different types of small arms ammunition used during the Civil War, including everything from a small .28 caliber ball up to a .69 caliber three-ring Minie and it triggered some questions: how did the Federal army obtain its small arms ammunition during the war? Where did the lead come from to make the bullets, and where and how was the ammunition manufactured? This post seeks to answer those questions. A typical .58 caliber 3-ring Minie bullet   “Whenever the blasts of war blow in the ears of men who trade in the implements of destruction, they are apt to experience more joy than the true warrior, for then comes the harvest of gain.
Read more

The Cannons are Now Silent: The Field of Death of Tupelo

Image
       The smoke of battle had drifted away from the battlefield at Tupelo, Mississippi on the hot afternoon of July 14, 1864, but the carnage of war lay spread across the open fields. “Scattered at intervals over the field of a few yards are dull gray blotches half shaded by grass,” an officer from the 7 th Minnesota Infantry recorded. “These are the Rebel dead. They have fought their last battle and lie generally in attitudes of rest; some of them look as if they had welcomed death. On the faces of two is imprinted a smile. One is a boy of 16 with delicate features, almost girlish in their beauty. His last gaze seems to have been directed toward his hand on the forefinger of which was a ring. A circle of purer white indicates its place; the ring was carried off as a trophy of the field.” The following account of the Battles of Tupelo and Old Town Creek was written by an unknown officer of the 7 th Minnesota Infantry, his account appearing in the August 5 th 1864 edition of the
Read more

The Vaunted Enfield Rifle Musket

Image
     The English-made Model 1853 .577 caliber Enfield Rifle Musket was widely regarded as the best infantry arm in the world at the outbreak of the Civil War in April 1861. Favorable international press describing its efficiency in the Crimean War and in suppressing the Indian rebellion led to the widespread desire of American infantrymen (both Federal and Confederate) to be armed with these accurate and well-made arms. The lock plate of this well-worn P1853 Enfield rifle musket produced in 1862 shows the typical markings of a British-made weapon that made it through the Federal blockade.  ( Army of Tennessee Relics ) Enfield-pattern weapons were imported into the states by the tens and hundreds of thousands during the war years; one estimate stated that the Federal government purchased 500,000 while the Confederates purchased another 400,000. The Confederate government dispatched Captain Caleb Huse to Europe in April 1861 to purchase weapons and Huse focused on securing all the Enfi
Read more

Straw Already Threshed: Sherman on Shiloh

Image
  W illiam Tecumseh Sherman was enjoying retired life in New York City when just before Christmas in 1889 he was presented with an article written by John Cockerill, a former drummer boy in the 24 th Ohio who was visiting his father Colonel Joseph Cockerill of the 70 th Ohio of Sherman’s division when the Battle of Shiloh began. Cockerill’s article, originally published in the New York Journalist and later featured in the January 1893 issue of Blue & Gray Magazine, Sherman later pronounced as “the best war story ever written” and the truest account of Shiloh.           On New Year’s Day 1890, General Sherman composed the following letter to his friend Marshall P. Wilder thanking him for sending along Cockerill’s article and giving his own explanation of Shiloh. “This to me is straw already threshed for we have fought this battle on paper several times, a much more agreeable task than to fight with bullets,” he concluded. “When in England some years ago I was gratified to liste
Read more

Federal Arms in the Stones River Campaign

Image
  T he following list, constructed after many years of research, lists unit by unit which type of weapons were carried by the Army of the Cumberland during the Stones River campaign. A number of sources were consulted including state ordnance reports, Federal quarterly ordnance reports (thank you Research Arsenal ), Ken Baumann’s Arming the Suckers, regimental histories and memoirs, captured ordnance reports, and consultation with knowledgeable experts in the field of firearms. Some of this information has been shared on the blog before in “ Rosy’s Heavy Metal: Artillery of the Army of the Cumberland ” or “ Shoulder Arms: How Sheridan’s and Davis’s Divisions Were Armed at Stones River ” but this is the first time the army as a whole has been presented. The overall conclusion I drew from looking at this data is that the Army of the Cumberland in December 1862 was an organization in the midst of transformation as far as arms. Many of the regiments still retained their original issue
Read more

Escape of Captain Henry H. Alban of the 21st Ohio Infantry

Image
Captain Henry H. Alban was among the dozen officers of the 21 st Ohio Volunteer Infantry who were captured on September 20, 1863 at the Battle of Chickamauga. The regiment had held its position atop Snodgrass Hill against repeated Confederate assaults and now battered and without ammunition, with the darkness of evening enveloping the hill, the remainder of that gallant band found themselves at the mercy of the 54 th Virginia. A total of 12 officers and 121 enlisted men surrendered; the regiment’s colors were taken, and the men marched off the field into captivity. Captain Henry Harvey Alban, Co. F, 21st O.V.I. Captain Alban along with the rest went through a series of Confederate prison camps before arriving at Columbia, South Carolina in October 1864. Determined to make an escape, he watched for his chance and one night made his leap for freedom, successfully eluding the local camp guard and setting out along the railroad to head for the mountains of eastern Tennessee and
Read more

Knapsack Compression: Wilbur Hinman recalls the first step of becoming a veteran

Image
L ooking back on his experiences during the war, Captain Wilbur Hinman of the 65 th Ohio (perhaps best known as the author of Si Klegg and His Pard ) recalled that the first road along which his regiment marched was strewn “with debris. A pair of six-mule wagonloads might have been gathered of notions that had been flung aside by a thousand suffering “tenderfeet.” “The average young patriot started for the war with a wheelbarrow load of clothing, a bed quilt or two, books, photograph albums, toilet articles, and gimcracks of every sort,” he wrote. “Neither he nor the good homefolks had the slightest conception of the capacity of a knapsack, nor did they for a moment imagine that before the close of his first day upon the road every pound he carried would seem a hundred.” To the true mark of a veteran soldier was one who “learned to dispense with every unnecessary ounce of weight, and just in the ratio that he did this he increased his efficiency as a soldier. It was of the highest
Read more

Federal Arms in the Chickamauga Campaign

Image
T he ordnance returns of the Army of the Cumberland at the end of September 1863 show the results of a transformational year in weaponry. Since taking command of the army at the end of October 1862, General William S. Rosecrans had repeatedly pestered the War Department to supply his regiments with better firearms both to improve the command’s efficiency as well as expand its striking power. The results speak for themselves: for the infantrymen at the end of September 1863, 90% of them now carried Class I long arms (36,058 out of 39,959), 8.3% carried Class II arms, and a mere 1.5% carried Class III weapons. Most of the foreign-made weapons (except Enfields) were gone, and by and large the army had settled on a single common .58 caliber ammunition, although a few .54 caliber and .69 caliber weapons remained within the ranks. The English-made Enfield rifle musket was by far the most common arm, carried by 56% of the men while the second-most common arm was the .58 caliber M1861 Spring
Read more