Capturing a Locomotive: A History of Secret Service in the Late War.Pittenger, William
History
Capturing a Locomotive: A History of Secret Service in the Late War.
Pittenger, William
Chattanooga Railroad Expedition, 1862; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Campaigns
"This presented an unexpected difficulty in our way. If we had
reached the road two minutes sooner we might have crossed
without being seen, but we could not have been there an instant
sooner than we were, unless we had had wings, for we had both
run until we were ready to fall in our tracks. We had become
separated from the rest of the party, but could still hear the
reports of muskets, and knew that the pursuit was still going
on, but how many of the escaping party had been killed was
beyond our knowledge, though I had seen Captain Fry reeling and
stumbling in a manner that led me to fear he was shot. We were
thus compelled to lie quietly for some time. While we were
waiting here the cavalry was relieved by infantry, and formed
into squads to scour the woods.
"The place where we lay was not over fifteen steps from where
the infantry sentinel was stationed. We could hear every word
he spoke to the man on the next post. Their comments on the
affair at the jail would have been amusing to us under less
serious circumstances, and I wish I could give their words
exactly now, for they were ludicrous enough.
"Some time late in the evening, while we were still lying under
the bush, we became aware that some one was approaching us very
quietly. In the dark we could recognize the dim outlines of two
men, and we felt certain, as they came so near us that we could
have almost touched them, that it was two of our comrades; but
we dare not even whisper to them, lest we should cause them to
betray themselves, and, perhaps, us too. They were, evidently,
from the cautious manner in which they moved, aware that they
were very close to the rebel guards. These men, I afterwards
learned, were Porter and Wollam.
"After waiting a short time to see if they were discovered, and
hearing nothing of them, we began to crawl out, concluding that
there was no probability of the guards leaving that night. I
should judge the sentries were stationed about thirty paces
apart, and to get out there was no alternative but to pass
between them. I selected a place and crawled to the other side
of the road safely, and then lay perfectly still, while Mark
did the same. My hair fairly stood on end as he wriggled along,
for it seemed to me once or twice as if one of the sentries
would certainly discover him before he would reach me. This was
one of our most narrow escapes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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