Life in the Hell-Hole

The fighting between the two armies near Dallas, Georgia in the final days of May and early June 1864 was remembered by the veterans of both armies as some of the worst of the Atlanta campaign. In a prelude to the trench warfare that became the hallmark of the First World War, both armies took to ground and blazed away at each other in the thick northern Georgia woods. They later termed this region the “Hell Hole.”

It was a place where death arrived with the shocking suddenness. One false move brought forth the shrieking sound of a Minie ricocheting off a tree or the solid thunk as the lead bullet flattened against a log or pierced through a soldier’s body. One soldier later said, “I must confess that it is not calculated to make one feel that his life is very secure unless he is pretty strongly fortified.”

These two accounts, one penned by a soldier in the 65^th Ohio of the 4^th Army Corps and a second from Surgeon Luther Griswold of the 103^rd Ohio of the 23^rd Army Corps, give us some insights into life in the “Hell Hole.”

 

This George Barnard image of the New Hope Church battlefield is a fair representation of the undulating terrain and thick woods that marked the "Hell-Hole." 

          The Rebs will shoot at random as well as our own men and the bullets come whistling over our heads, striking the trees and sometimes going through someone’s shelter tent that stands a few feet to the rear of the works. Having acquired a safe position in the rear of some large stumps which are also in the rear of the fortifications, sometimes we can afford to amuse ourselves by listening to the bullets as they come hunting vets, whistling, buzzing, shrieking, and tearing through the trees.

          I must confess that it is not calculated to make one feel that his life is very secure unless he is pretty strongly fortified. Yet there are some who seem inclined to make light of the Rebel messengers, knowing their danger, and as one passed very near their heads they will cry out, “A little too high,” or “incline to the left,” or tell the Rebels to take better aim.

          This morning it is very quiet, no bullets flying, and just now a cheer goes along our whole line and the news flies from one regiment to another that the Rebs have left. Now we straighten up once more and take a good long breath, then take time enough to wash our faces and remove a little of the dirt that has been so long accumulating.

          Looking to the rear, we see two or three brigadiers approaching, looking quite unconcernedly about. No one is fortifying trees and we expect very soon to see the doctors going to their regiments to attend sick call. When we see this last indication, we well know of a surety that there are no Rebels in front and we think there are none for some ways. Going out to the Rebel works, we see trees that have hardly any bark left on them for 20 feet from the ground. We are very bold now and go clear into their works.

One of the surgeons who came forward to attend to the men was Luther D. Griswold of the 103^rd Ohio who shared his impressions of soldier life during this stage of the Atlanta campaign. Writing from camp near Allatoona on June 6, 1864, the good doctor paints a picture of abject misery.

55-year-old Surgeon Luther D. Griswold of the 103rd Ohio commented that the hardships of the campaign were "sufficient to break down any constitution and especially that of a man who is already somewhat enfeebled by age." Enfeebled or not, Surgeon Griswold stuck it out for another month until the army crossed the Chattahoochee then reluctantly resigned his commission due to declining health. 

          I am astonished that I have ensured the campaign so far very well. I have slept on the ground every night but three or four over the past five weeks. For the last three days we have had drenching rain. Everything has been saturated with water- the leaves, the ground, our clothing, our bedding. My feet have been constantly wet and then to lie down at night on the wet ground and cover yourself with wet blankets. All of this would seem to be sufficient to break down any constitution and especially that of a man who is already somewhat enfeebled by age.

          Our campaign thus far has been successful. We have driven the enemy from every strong position he has taken and inflicted a loss upon him probably equal to our own. We have been under fire nearly every day for a month and skirmishing has continued through the night. I had become so accustomed to the rattle of musketry and the occasional roar of artillery that on lying down last night, the stillness along our lines made it seem lonesome.

          Our boys suffered again about three days ago. They made a charge across an open field exposed to a galling fire of shot and shell. Seven of them were wounded, but the wounds of all were slight and they will recover. Several brave deeds of personal daring were performed and among them I mention this one. Corporal Walkins of Co. F, an Oberlin student, had charged into the woods in advance of our line when he came suddenly upon a lusty old sharpshooter behind a stump. Both were engaged in loading their guns but Walkins got his cap on too soon for the Johnny Reb and told him to lay down his gun or he would make a hole through him, at the same time drawing a bead on him. After arguing the question for a moment, the Reb concluded that discretion was the better part of valor and the Oberlin student, a mere boy, marched him into our line. The Rebel was greatly disgusted.

          I ought to mention a narrow escape of General Jacob Cox. Three days ago [June 3^rd] he was reconnoitering with his staff in advance of our lines when he suddenly found himself in the midst of Rebel skirmishers. Some 20 shots were fired at the party and Captain Saunders, Cox’s adjutant general, was mortally wounded. He was shot through the chest near the heart and died in about six hours. He was a very fine officer and gentleman. He was taken back to a log house and I was present when he died. His mind was clear and no murmur escaped his lips. I turned him upon his side a few moments before he breathed his last and he spoke as pleasantly as if he were well.

          The weather is intensely warm when the sun shines, but the nights are uniformly cool. I cannot tell how I shall endure the extreme heat but shall endure it as long as I can. It is no time to back out now.

Sources:

“How the Boys of the 65^th O.V.I. Amuse Themselves,” Cleveland Morning Leader (Ohio), June 21, 1864, pg. 2

Letter from Surgeon Luther D. Griswold, 103^rd Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Medina County Gazette (Ohio), June 25, 1864, pg. 2