- A SOLDIER'S LIFE -STORIES FROM THE HISTORY OF THE 22nd.taken from the book on the history of the 22nd Massachusetts Volunteer Infantryby John L. Parker and Robert G. Carter and published in 1887Plus a few others as noted You may either start from the top or use there links to o to particular stories. NECESSITY, THE MOTHER OF INVENTION WHERE THERE'S FIRE... FRESH MEAT WELCOME TO THE NEW ARMY WAS "M.A.S.H." THAT ORIGINAL? WAS THE "IRAQI WAR" REALLY UNUSUAL? THE KIDNAPPED COLONEL - You thought Custer was the only young General? by George Emanuel THE STORY OF TAPS from Dear Abby GO TO INDEX NECESSITY, THE MOTHER OF INVENTION The following incident will illustrate one of the well-known traits of these citizen servants [a servant of an officer but not enlisted in the army]. The members of Company F had contributed money enough to present First Sergeant Bennett with a watch, as he was very popular with the men. Two of the number, who for present purposes may be known as Frank Bedford and Jack Foster, were commissioned to visit Washington and purchase the watch. Frank was detailed on clerical duty in the adjutant's office, and wrote out the pass for the two "to Washington and return," and took it in person to the officers, getting all the signatures from Captain Thompson to Fitz John Porter. They reached Washington without adventure, and bought the watch. As night approached, Jack suggested returning, but Frank declared his intention to remain all night. As passes were supposed to expire at retreat, Jack was alarmed, but Frank insisted that as the pass was to Washington and return, they could stay as well as not, and he agreed t o see his timid comrade safely back in camp on the morrow. Toward nightfall on the next day the pair started for camp. As they went in over the Long Bridge, they concluded to go out by way of the Georgetown Aqueduct. Just before reaching the bridge over Rock Creek, Frank seized Jack by the arm, and almost dragged him into the doorway of an elegant mansion that stood upon the street. Without waiting to ring, they entered the house, and walked up-stairs into the parlor. A dignified old lady soon entered the room, apparently somewhat startled by the sudden appearance of her unbidden guests. Frank at once arose and with a courtly manner introduced himself and friend."We were passing your door," said he, "and we found it impossible to resist an impulse to pay our respects to one who has done so much to render the life of the soldier in camp endurable. You may not be aware of it, madam, but your name is revered in the army, and you are blessed in thousands of homes. My comrades would not have forgiven me had I neglected to convey to you an expression of the grateful regard in which you are held." The old lady replied that she was not aware that anything she had done was so highly esteemed, and thanking her visitors for their kindly interest, offered to ring for refreshments. This they would not consent to, and with renewed expression of regard the singular interview ended."What did you go in there for," said Jack, as they reached the street. "You never saw or heard of her before." - "Didn't you notice the provost-guard?" said Frank, "It would not do to meet them. I went in on a venture, and when I saw her benevolent face, I imagined that friend-of-a-soldier card was the one to play, and it worked well." Jack had to admit that it saved them from meeting the provost-guard. In due time they reached the aqueduct, and presented the pass. "This won't do; expired yesterday," said the sergeant. In vain, Frank's explanation. The sergeant had never seen a pass like that, and they must see the lieutenant of t he guard. Things began to assume a serious aspect, but they started for the provost-marshal's office. Turning onto the main street, they ran across the servants of the lieutenant-colonel and the major, - two young daredevils to whom soldiering was only a picnic. Each was dressed in the full uniform of his employer, and had been over to Washington to have some pictures taken. Lieut.-col. "Smith" and Major "Brown" made a very fine appearance. The case was soon stated, when "Smith" declared that he had cheek enough for all four, and led the way to the bridge. Approaching the sergeant with something of a swagger, he carelessly threw back his overcoat, displaying the shoulderstraps indicating his assumed rank, gracefully returned the sergeant's salute, and with a nerve that was charming, remarked, - "Sergeant, these men are all right, They belong to my regiment, and were sent over on special duty which it was understood would take two days. If the pass is wrong, it is so by mistake. Give my regards to the officer of the day, and say to him that Lieut.-Col. Smith of the twenty-second Maine will be pleased to welcome him at camp anytime." The precious quartet made all haste to camp, but it was dark when they arrived. By watching the chances, one by one they safely ran the guard near the stables, and got safe to quarters. Bedford and Foster made it all right with Sergeant Bennett, who was on his way to the adjutant to report them absent without leave; and this singular breach of discipline went unpunished.GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX WHERE THERE'S FIRE...One day, after return from brigade-drill where the regiment had been exercised in firing blank cartridges, the orderly-sergeant of Company D ordered the chiefs of tents in his company to turn in to him all cartridges on hand. They were put in a wooden pail under the sergeant's bed. The pail was heaping full and on top of the cartridges was a loaf of bread. Corporal W. (he who saved his stripes) sat before the stove, waiting for "taps." Private Jim remarked, "Corporal, why don't you stir up the fire, and make it blaze away?" - "Oh, let it be!" said the corporal, "'Taps' will sound pretty soon, and then it will be 'lights out.'" - "Pooh!" said Jim. "You don't know how to make it burn. Just see me do it." Whereupon, Jim jumped up, opened the stove-door, and took out the half-burned embers, laid them across the top of the stove, and raked the coals to the front. "I'll show you how to build a fire." When snap went a spark into the orderly's pail of cartrid ges. Whiz, phiz, bang! went the whole arsenal. The corporal was struck in the head with the loaf of bread, which knocked him on to the sergeant's bed, and a ball of fire as big as a cart-wheel rolled over him. The orderly's hair and eyebrows were singed, and everyone in the tent was frightened almost to death. Nobody could find the door, and one man cut his way out through the canvas. But finally they all got out, pretty well choked, but not seriously injured. Report of the engagement reached headquarters, and Major Tilton was soon on the ground. Beaming upon them over his spectacles, he said "Well boys, you can't say but you have smelled powder." - "No," said Corporal W., gasping for breath; "but we didn't agree to swallow it."GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX FRESH MEATThe morning after our arrival a stray pig appeared. By the way, pigs are always astray in Virginia, a pig-pen rarely, if ever, seen. His appearance was the signal for a charge by three regiments [probably 3000 - 3500 men]. One active soldier gave piggy a kick which knocked him over. With a loud squeal, piggy was up and off again, only to be headed in a new direction. Finally a Maine man struck him with a club, his throat was cut in a twinkling, and almost before his dying squeal had ceased, the carcass had been skinned and divided, and as many as could lay a hand upon it bore away a piece of fresh pork in triumph. GO TO TOPGO TO INDEXWELCOME TO THE NEW ARMYBefore reveille in the morning after our arrival at this camp, the soldiers were aroused by an unearthly noise. Crawling out of there ponchos, they found that during the night, a wagon-train had come up, the wagons drawn by mules, and the hungry animals were he-hawing the "quartermaster call," which afterwards became so familiar. The wagons built in Massachusetts, and the horses that had come out with them, were turned in at Alexandria, and Quartermaster Royce had drawn army-wagons and mules at Fort Monroe. The teamsters declared they could do nothing with the mules, and preferred going back to the companies, but a small dose of knapsack and gun changed their feelings, and they soon got used to their long-eared teams. The efforts to put collars on the mules that first morning were very funny, everybody but the teamsters enjoyed it. GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX WAS "M.A.S.H." THAT ORIGINAL? While at the division-hospital at Laurel Hill, Dr. Stearns, Chaplain Tyler {both of the 22nd}, and a Dr. Howard, who had a special commission to treat wounds of the chest by hermetically sealing the opening, occupied a room in the house above spoken of. One night, before retiring, Howard told a story as to his somnambulism, relating how he often found himself sleep-walking, and not infrequently standing by a bedside, with a huge open jack-knife in his hand, about to cut the throat of the occupant; and claimed that he would give thousands of dollars to rid himself of this terrible experience, as he feared that he should not some time awaken in time to prevent a horrible butchery. In the course of the night, Dr. Stearns, who occupied a bed with the chaplain, found Mr. Tyler missing, and in the morning it was learned that the story had made such an impression upon him that he could not sleep. The idea of being shot at the front was not so repulsive, but to have his carotids severed by a miserable somnambulist was too much.; so he quietly stole down-stairs, and rolling himself in a blanket, was soon asleep. The next day Dr. Howard told the story to everybody in camp, exhaulting over the success of his fabrication. That night Dr. Stearns, desiring to assist his tentmate in evening up the account, got up and went to the open window near Dr. Howard's bed, and using his ventriloquism, held a conversation with an imaginary man outside, who in an excitable manner told the doctor to get up instantly, and get ready to move, right off, as the rebels were coming down on our right, and we had got to leave at once to escape capture. This was enough for Howard; he bounced out of bed, pulled on his cavalry boots, and grabbing his clothes, started for camp, some rods away, and frantically floundering around trying to convince somebody that "we ought to be getting out of this." But everything being quiet, he crept back to bed. The next morning as they awoke, the chaplain said, "Well, doctor, how do we stand?" - "Well," said he, "I think that with Dr. Stearns' assistance, we are about square." It is said that the chaplain never hears the name "Howard" without an involuntary shudder, and that the doctor never goes to a performance where there is any ventriloquism. GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX WAS THE "IRAQI WAR" REALLY UNUSUAL? It is related of Sergeant James H. Abbott, Company H, who was wounded this day, that earlier in the day, before receiving his wound, and advancing rapidly, he suddenly found himself in the midst of a bunch of rebels, who were lying down behind a log, and allowing our line to sweep over them. Abbott, somewhat excited, not knowing what else to say, shouted "Surrender, you blankety blank blanks!" when to his utter surprise, all of them - five in number - threw down their arms, and, placing them in front of him, he proudly marched them as prisoners to the rear. GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX THE KIDNAPPED COLONEL - You thought Custer was the only young General? by George Emanuel Nelson Appleton Miles was born August 8, 1839 in Wachusettville, a small, sleepy village in Westminster, Massachusetts. In the fall of 1861, Nelson’s leadership skills and charisma as a young man of twenty-one allowed him to enlist as a First Lieutenant in Company E of the 22nd Massachusetts. Within six months, he earned a reputation as a “fighting young officer”. Nelson’s ability to command under the pressure of battle was also observed by many soldiers of the 61st New York. They were in desperate need of gallant leadership and got to thinking as to how they could improve themselves. The solution presented itself in the form of Nelson Miles. One night in March, members of the 61st New York stole into the camp of the 22nd Mass. and kidnapped young Lieut. Miles and carried him back to their camp. Once safe, the men of the 61st explained to their hostage their dire need for a young officer of his qualities. If Miles would accept, they would elect him Lieutenant-Colonel of the 61st. Nelson Miles accepted. We do not know if he was impressed with their daring plan so successfully executed or if his ego was so deeply flattered. Whatever the reason, he was discharged from the 22nd on March 31 to take his new position. In September of 1862, Nelson was promoted to full Colonel. (Click here for picture){USE YOUR BACK BUTTON TO RETURN} Nelson’s career success continued. By May of 1864, at the wise old age of twenty- six, he had reached the rank of Major-General. His career in the army would continue for thirty-eight more years. He would also distinguish himself as an Indian fighter and command a department in Los Angeles. Nelson Miles retired from the U. S. Army as a Lieut.-General. Young Lieutenant Miles’ savvy for leadership carried him far away from the 22nd Massachusetts and his small town of Wachusettville.George is a member of the reformed 22nd Massachusetts. He is also the father of Sarah, who wrote the article on women in the war on this website. GO TO TOPGO TO INDEX THE STORY OF TAPS from Dear Abby "Dear Readers: Edward C. Iberger of Riverhead, N. Y., submitted this touching story of how "Taps," played at military funerals, originated: It all began in , during the Civil War, when a Union Army captain, Robert Ellicombe, was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of this narrow strip of land. During the night, Capt. Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring back the stricken man for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the soldier and began pulling him back toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered i was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The captain lit a lantern, suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light of the lantern he saw the face of the soldier ... it was his own son! The young man had been studying music in the South when the war broke out, and without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, the heartbroken father asked permission of his supervisors to give his son a full military burial, despite the young man's enemy status. The captain's request was partially granted. He asked if he could have a group of army band members play a dirge for his son at the funeral. His request was refused since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the captain, they said they could loan him one musician. He chose the bugler. The captain asked him to play a series of musical notes found in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. That music was the haunting bugle melody we now know as "Taps."" GO TO TOP Go to index This page has been visited times since Dec. 1, 1997.
NECESSITY, THE MOTHER OF INVENTION WHERE THERE'S FIRE... FRESH MEAT WELCOME TO THE NEW ARMY WAS "M.A.S.H." THAT ORIGINAL? WAS THE "IRAQI WAR" REALLY UNUSUAL? THE KIDNAPPED COLONEL - You thought Custer was the only young General? by George Emanuel THE STORY OF TAPS from Dear Abby
GO TO INDEX
NECESSITY, THE MOTHER OF INVENTION
The following incident will illustrate one of the well-known traits of these citizen servants [a servant of an officer but not enlisted in the army]. The members of Company F had contributed money enough to present First Sergeant Bennett with a watch, as he was very popular with the men. Two of the number, who for present purposes may be known as Frank Bedford and Jack Foster, were commissioned to visit Washington and purchase the watch. Frank was detailed on clerical duty in the adjutant's office, and wrote out the pass for the two "to Washington and return," and took it in person to the officers, getting all the signatures from Captain Thompson to Fitz John Porter. They reached Washington without adventure, and bought the watch. As night approached, Jack suggested returning, but Frank declared his intention to remain all night. As passes were supposed to expire at retreat, Jack was alarmed, but Frank insisted that as the pass was to Washington and return, they could stay as well as not, and he agreed t o see his timid comrade safely back in camp on the morrow. Toward nightfall on the next day the pair started for camp. As they went in over the Long Bridge, they concluded to go out by way of the Georgetown Aqueduct. Just before reaching the bridge over Rock Creek, Frank seized Jack by the arm, and almost dragged him into the doorway of an elegant mansion that stood upon the street. Without waiting to ring, they entered the house, and walked up-stairs into the parlor. A dignified old lady soon entered the room, apparently somewhat startled by the sudden appearance of her unbidden guests. Frank at once arose and with a courtly manner introduced himself and friend.
"We were passing your door," said he, "and we found it impossible to resist an impulse to pay our respects to one who has done so much to render the life of the soldier in camp endurable. You may not be aware of it, madam, but your name is revered in the army, and you are blessed in thousands of homes. My comrades would not have forgiven me had I neglected to convey to you an expression of the grateful regard in which you are held." The old lady replied that she was not aware that anything she had done was so highly esteemed, and thanking her visitors for their kindly interest, offered to ring for refreshments. This they would not consent to, and with renewed expression of regard the singular interview ended.
"What did you go in there for," said Jack, as they reached the street. "You never saw or heard of her before." - "Didn't you notice the provost-guard?" said Frank, "It would not do to meet them. I went in on a venture, and when I saw her benevolent face, I imagined that friend-of-a-soldier card was the one to play, and it worked well." Jack had to admit that it saved them from meeting the provost-guard. In due time they reached the aqueduct, and presented the pass. "This won't do; expired yesterday," said the sergeant. In vain, Frank's explanation. The sergeant had never seen a pass like that, and they must see the lieutenant of t he guard. Things began to assume a serious aspect, but they started for the provost-marshal's office. Turning onto the main street, they ran across the servants of the lieutenant-colonel and the major, - two young daredevils to whom soldiering was only a picnic. Each was dressed in the full uniform of his employer, and had been over to Washington to have some pictures taken. Lieut.-col. "Smith" and Major "Brown" made a very fine appearance. The case was soon stated, when "Smith" declared that he had cheek enough for all four, and led the way to the bridge. Approaching the sergeant with something of a swagger, he carelessly threw back his overcoat, displaying the shoulderstraps indicating his assumed rank, gracefully returned the sergeant's salute, and with a nerve that was charming, remarked, - "Sergeant, these men are all right, They belong to my regiment, and were sent over on special duty which it was understood would take two days. If the pass is wrong, it is so by mistake. Give my regards to the officer of the day, and say to him that Lieut.-Col. Smith of the twenty-second Maine will be pleased to welcome him at camp anytime." The precious quartet made all haste to camp, but it was dark when they arrived. By watching the chances, one by one they safely ran the guard near the stables, and got safe to quarters. Bedford and Foster made it all right with Sergeant Bennett, who was on his way to the adjutant to report them absent without leave; and this singular breach of discipline went unpunished.
One day, after return from brigade-drill where the regiment had been exercised in firing blank cartridges, the orderly-sergeant of Company D ordered the chiefs of tents in his company to turn in to him all cartridges on hand. They were put in a wooden pail under the sergeant's bed. The pail was heaping full and on top of the cartridges was a loaf of bread. Corporal W. (he who saved his stripes) sat before the stove, waiting for "taps." Private Jim remarked, "Corporal, why don't you stir up the fire, and make it blaze away?" - "Oh, let it be!" said the corporal, "'Taps' will sound pretty soon, and then it will be 'lights out.'" - "Pooh!" said Jim. "You don't know how to make it burn. Just see me do it." Whereupon, Jim jumped up, opened the stove-door, and took out the half-burned embers, laid them across the top of the stove, and raked the coals to the front. "I'll show you how to build a fire." When snap went a spark into the orderly's pail of cartrid ges. Whiz, phiz, bang! went the whole arsenal. The corporal was struck in the head with the loaf of bread, which knocked him on to the sergeant's bed, and a ball of fire as big as a cart-wheel rolled over him. The orderly's hair and eyebrows were singed, and everyone in the tent was frightened almost to death. Nobody could find the door, and one man cut his way out through the canvas. But finally they all got out, pretty well choked, but not seriously injured. Report of the engagement reached headquarters, and Major Tilton was soon on the ground. Beaming upon them over his spectacles, he said "Well boys, you can't say but you have smelled powder." - "No," said Corporal W., gasping for breath; "but we didn't agree to swallow it."
The morning after our arrival a stray pig appeared. By the way, pigs are always astray in Virginia, a pig-pen rarely, if ever, seen. His appearance was the signal for a charge by three regiments [probably 3000 - 3500 men]. One active soldier gave piggy a kick which knocked him over. With a loud squeal, piggy was up and off again, only to be headed in a new direction. Finally a Maine man struck him with a club, his throat was cut in a twinkling, and almost before his dying squeal had ceased, the carcass had been skinned and divided, and as many as could lay a hand upon it bore away a piece of fresh pork in triumph.
Before reveille in the morning after our arrival at this camp, the soldiers were aroused by an unearthly noise. Crawling out of there ponchos, they found that during the night, a wagon-train had come up, the wagons drawn by mules, and the hungry animals were he-hawing the "quartermaster call," which afterwards became so familiar. The wagons built in Massachusetts, and the horses that had come out with them, were turned in at Alexandria, and Quartermaster Royce had drawn army-wagons and mules at Fort Monroe. The teamsters declared they could do nothing with the mules, and preferred going back to the companies, but a small dose of knapsack and gun changed their feelings, and they soon got used to their long-eared teams. The efforts to put collars on the mules that first morning were very funny, everybody but the teamsters enjoyed it.
The next day Dr. Howard told the story to everybody in camp, exhaulting over the success of his fabrication. That night Dr. Stearns, desiring to assist his tentmate in evening up the account, got up and went to the open window near Dr. Howard's bed, and using his ventriloquism, held a conversation with an imaginary man outside, who in an excitable manner told the doctor to get up instantly, and get ready to move, right off, as the rebels were coming down on our right, and we had got to leave at once to escape capture. This was enough for Howard; he bounced out of bed, pulled on his cavalry boots, and grabbing his clothes, started for camp, some rods away, and frantically floundering around trying to convince somebody that "we ought to be getting out of this." But everything being quiet, he crept back to bed.
The next morning as they awoke, the chaplain said, "Well, doctor, how do we stand?" - "Well," said he, "I think that with Dr. Stearns' assistance, we are about square."
It is said that the chaplain never hears the name "Howard" without an involuntary shudder, and that the doctor never goes to a performance where there is any ventriloquism.
It is related of Sergeant James H. Abbott, Company H, who was wounded this day, that earlier in the day, before receiving his wound, and advancing rapidly, he suddenly found himself in the midst of a bunch of rebels, who were lying down behind a log, and allowing our line to sweep over them. Abbott, somewhat excited, not knowing what else to say, shouted "Surrender, you blankety blank blanks!" when to his utter surprise, all of them - five in number - threw down their arms, and, placing them in front of him, he proudly marched them as prisoners to the rear.
by George Emanuel
Nelson Appleton Miles was born August 8, 1839 in Wachusettville, a small, sleepy village in Westminster, Massachusetts. In the fall of 1861, Nelson’s leadership skills and charisma as a young man of twenty-one allowed him to enlist as a First Lieutenant in Company E of the 22nd Massachusetts. Within six months, he earned a reputation as a “fighting young officer”. Nelson’s ability to command under the pressure of battle was also observed by many soldiers of the 61st New York. They were in desperate need of gallant leadership and got to thinking as to how they could improve themselves. The solution presented itself in the form of Nelson Miles.
One night in March, members of the 61st New York stole into the camp of the 22nd Mass. and kidnapped young Lieut. Miles and carried him back to their camp. Once safe, the men of the 61st explained to their hostage their dire need for a young officer of his qualities. If Miles would accept, they would elect him Lieutenant-Colonel of the 61st. Nelson Miles accepted. We do not know if he was impressed with their daring plan so successfully executed or if his ego was so deeply flattered. Whatever the reason, he was discharged from the 22nd on March 31 to take his new position. In September of 1862, Nelson was promoted to full Colonel. (Click here for picture){USE YOUR BACK BUTTON TO RETURN}
Nelson’s career success continued. By May of 1864, at the wise old age of twenty- six, he had reached the rank of Major-General. His career in the army would continue for thirty-eight more years. He would also distinguish himself as an Indian fighter and command a department in Los Angeles. Nelson Miles retired from the U. S. Army as a Lieut.-General.
Young Lieutenant Miles’ savvy for leadership carried him far away from the 22nd Massachusetts and his small town of Wachusettville.
George is a member of the reformed 22nd Massachusetts. He is also the father of Sarah, who wrote the article on women in the war on this website.
"Dear Readers: Edward C. Iberger of Riverhead, N. Y., submitted this touching story of how "Taps," played at military funerals, originated:
It all began in , during the Civil War, when a Union Army captain, Robert Ellicombe, was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of this narrow strip of land.
During the night, Capt. Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring back the stricken man for medical attention.
Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the soldier and began pulling him back toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered i was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.
The captain lit a lantern, suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light of the lantern he saw the face of the soldier ... it was his own son! The young man had been studying music in the South when the war broke out, and without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army.
The following morning, the heartbroken father asked permission of his supervisors to give his son a full military burial, despite the young man's enemy status. The captain's request was partially granted.
He asked if he could have a group of army band members play a dirge for his son at the funeral. His request was refused since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the captain, they said they could loan him one musician. He chose the bugler. The captain asked him to play a series of musical notes found in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. That music was the haunting bugle melody we now know as "Taps.""