War Experiences and the Story of the Vicksburg Campaign from "Milliken's Bend" to July 4, 1863: being an accurate and graphic account of campaign events taken from the diary of Capt. J.J. Kellogg, of Co. B 113th Illinois volunteer infantry — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
War Experiences and the Story of the Vicksburg Campaign from "Milliken's Bend" to July 4, 1863: being an accurate and graphic account of campaign events taken from the diary of Capt. J.J. Kellogg, of Co. B 113th Illinois volunteer infantry
John Stuart Mill · en
awaiting the signal to go in we had been practicing, over a big sycamore
log behind which we were crouching, a few long range shots at the rebel
stockade, but when the three rapid artillery discharges came we first
stood up, then we scaled the log and pushed forward. On our immediate
right was the 6th Missouri, and I being on the right of our regiment
went in side by side with the men of their left. A lieutenant on the
left of that regiment was in his shirt sleeves and wore a white shirt;
he and I went side by side for several steps, when he lunged forward
upon the ground, and in the quick glance I gave him I saw a circle of
red forming on his shirt back. The leaden hail from the enemy was
absolutely blinding. The very sticks and chips scattered over the ground
were jumping under the hot shower of rebel bullets. As I now recall that
experience I can but wonder that any of us survived that charge. The
rough and brush strewn ground over which we had to charge broke up our
alignment badly, and every soldier of our command had to pick his own
way forward as best he could without regard to touching elbows either to
the right or left.
When about two-thirds the way across the field I found myself with one
corporal of my company considerably in advance of the rest of our men,
and we two knelt down behind a fallen tree trunk to watch and wait their
coming. When thus on our knees a canister shot entered the bottom of the
corporal's shoe and lodged in his ankle joint, and while I was assisting
my comrade in cutting off his shoe and prying out the bullet, most of
our company passed by us. When I again stood up, I could see a fragment
of our line only, to my left, with which I recognized our colonel and
regimental colors. I started towards our flag, but had gone only a few
steps when one of the enemy's shells exploded in front of me, and when
the smoke had lifted a little I saw that our regimental flag and the
colonel had gone down. From under the end of a log beneath where the
shell had exploded rose up a comrade, Darrow by name, his red shock of
hair powdered and plastered with the dust and dirt of the explosion and
his eyes flashing with indignation. "Ain't it awful?" said I to Darrow,
and the profane wretch replied indifferently, "They're shootin' damn
careless."