Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 32
The Battle of Pittsburg Landing (Concluded)
I had omitted to say in the previous chapter, that on returning to my post after opening a way out to the landing I met men who were wild with fear, all facing to the rear. We had one Captain in the 55th Ills. who claimed some war experience, and much drill. Most, of all the line officers, he was longing for a battle, and exceedingly brave. I had really looked to him with great confidence, but met him among the stragglers. It struck me with horror when I saw him, and I said: "O, Captain, are you wounded?" He responded as a man in deepest distress as he flourished both hands in the air above his head: "Oh, Oh, Oh! the regiment is broken all to pieces! Oh, Oh, Oh!" And he rushed forward like a man running from death. There are men who cannot face bullets, an they themselves don't know it till they are tested.
Having reached the landing a little after two o'clock, I found the hills covered with stragglers and the woods strewn with men, wildly coming that way. I knew that, at the front, the sifted braves were holding the line against fearful odds. I saw across the Tennessee the head of Buell's army emerging from the woods, and shouted for joy. If the enemy could be held at bay for two hours, we would have twenty thousand fresh troops on the field and the day would be saved. I was faint from the tremendous strain of the day, but met Grant's Medical Director with a lot of canteens filled with brandy strung round his neck. I said: "Doctor give me some brandy!" And I took a small quantity on an empty stomach, and, living wholly without stimulants as I did, it gave me immediate temporary strength. The stampeded men, I then judged, would not fall short of ten thousand. This may have been a high estimate, but I knew the line in front was growing thinner every minute, and if a thousand or two of these could be rallied, we could hold the line till Buell's army crossed the river, hen we would be safe. I never made such speeches before, or since. In one group, where perhaps a thousand were listening, a wounded soldier, whose arm was dangling by his side as he sat on a rock above me burst into tears while I was speaking and cried out, "O, boys, how can you stand it?"
Twenty-two hundred men were rallied and gotten into the last line which was formed on Sunday at Pittsburg Landing. This last line was not one-fifth as long as the first in the morning, but was well organized and near the landing. We had much artillery, and it was now concentrated, and our army was now so located that the gunboats could assist. I wept for joy when our artillery opened, and thanked God as I have rarely thanked him, and the day was won. The Confederate army was practically beaten before sunset Sunday night, and only fought on the defensive from that time till driven back to Corinth. General Buell's troops were over in the morning, and aided in the fight Monday. It was years before I could respect General Buell, because of his dallying at Pittsburg Landing.
The horrors of war are not fully seen in the battle, but in the harvest of agonies which result. Our wounded on that Sabbath, by the hundred, were dumped out on the ground without any cover. There was some relief from the boats, which received many and soon carried them to hospitals beyond, but I was shut in with the sufferers on the hill above the landing. As soon as the 2,200 troops were officered and started for the line, my soul was moved as to the uncared for sufferers. It was plain they would lie on the ground without cover all night, unless somebody acted at once. I saw the camp of some regiment not far away, and hastened to procure their tents. The regiment was not there, but the camp was guarded, and they would not let me have a tent at any price. I still wore my Captain's suit, and it was valuable that day. I got a sword and went among the stragglers and to each man I met who was armed I said: "Fall in here, sir," till I had a troop of my own, and marched on that camp. When there before, I interceded; now I commanded! The guard met me, but I was now at the head of an armed force! In my new command there was a little Dutch Sergeant, and as I came near to a tent I said: "Sergeant, take down that tent, sir." And citizens would have been astonished to see how quickly it was read to go to my hospital! Those tents were all up among the wounded, on that ridge, and filled with suffering men before the guard could fully realize they had nothing left to guard! Their camp kettles came with us also, twelve of them, and while my men were building fires, I was down at the landing on horseback with two sacks, and filled them with hams and potatoes, and we had hams, potatoes and potato soup. When men bleed, they must have food or die. I think wounded men did die at Pittsburg Landing who would not have died had food been furnished in time. When all this was done for the sufferers on that ridge, there were then scores, if not hundreds, who lay all night on the ground without cover. There were sixty in one group, I remember, and during the night we had to carry out their dead. Dear Doctor E. O. F. Roller, though weak in body, went through that terrible night, doing his utmost to save life and alleviate pain. I would like to stand up before him in heaven, and tell angels, and the redeemed about him.
About two o'clock in the night, I was impressed that wounded men were down near the river, and stepped out on a rock and cried aloud to ascertain. My call was responded to by a voice I had heard before. I asked Dr. Roller to lie down for an hour, and I would take the lantern and go down and help what I could and report to him later, but he insisted on going, too. Seven of my own regiment were in the driftwood of the Tennessee. It was very dark and raining. They were all wounded and some of them badly. Young Ennis, from near Elmwood, Ills., who was converted in a meeting I held in his neighborhood before the war, was struck on the ankle with a piece of shell, which had nearly spent its force. His ankle was swollen and looked badly, but the dear boy was so happy in God all night that he had kept the whole company in good cheer. One of them said: "Chaplain, we would have all died if it had not been for Ennis!" Dear boy, he went to glory in a few days, and his dust will be gathered, when Jesus comes, from the banks of the Tennessee!
I did not hear from my regiment, but found by sunrise next morning where it was located. I had strong fears that the men were left without food, and supposed they would be ordered early into battle line again. I seemed impelled to do something for them, and hastened with an empty sack to the supply boat as before, and filled the sack with hams. Just as I came in sight with them they were ordered to march. I rode in advance of them, and dropped a ham here and there, asking them to divide, and dismounted and cut the last ham in slices and gave it to them as they marched. Some of them had not had breakfast Sabbath morning, and all of them had fought all day Sunday and lay on their arms all night without food! They were now going out for a second days battle, with no prospect of food for twelve hours to come.
Many of the wounded were taken to the boats, on Monday, and more help had rallied, so I was relieved of my tasks somewhat, though our cooking had to go on all the same. I had noticed that men who bled suffered with thirst, and, procuring a lot of canteens, I filled them with spring water and rode over the field behind the army. A Chicago battery had been captured on Sunday, and on Monday it was recaptured with a desperate fight. The horses were shot in their harness and plunged in every shape in death, and the Confederate dead and wounded were strewn about. O, I was so glad to be able to satisfy the thirst if those wounded men. One of our boys had been shot, and captured on Sabbath and the Confederates left him in one of our tents behind them as they advanced, and we retreated on Sunday. Now, as they retreated, and we advanced, a battle was fought over his head and the enemy was driven beyond him. Our artillery men were harassed by sharpshooters, and the Captain fancied the missiles came from behind that tent where this boy was lying, so he ordered the tent destroyed. The Confederates had run over him twice, two battles were fight over him, and new our artillerymen let loose upon him! In the recital of his experiences of those two days, he came to the destruction of the tent over his head by our own men, and said: "Chaplain, when I saw that tent going to pieces over my head you may depend if I ever prayed I prayed then!" God covered him and he lived to tell the story.