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Hi all, found the following humorous account regarding Johnston's forces outside Vicksburg in 1863 in an old newspaper. The author wrote it in 1898, as a warning against packing troops with too much equipment for active service:
…In the latter part of May, 1863, it happened to fall to my duty temporarily to issue the daily order of march for a small body of troops who formed the nucleus of the force with Gen. Joseph E. Johnston was endeavoring to assemble for the possible relief of the army under General Pemberton, then shut up, or about to be shut up, in Vicksburg. The relieving force was composed of regiments and brigades drawn from different portions of the South, and was moving, after the evacuation of Jackson, between Canton and Yazoo City. The weather was hot and the sandy roads were deep with dust. One evening as the column halted for the night a colonel, whom I will call Colonel A., commanding a veteran regiment that had seen long and hard service, asked me if I would not, in designating the order of march, change the position of his regiment. “I would like my boys,” he said, “to follow Colonel B.’s regiment.” Colonel B.’s regiment, a very large one, and which had seen but little service, had arrived at Jackson a few days before by rail from the seacoast and had attracted attention by the newness and completeness of its equipment. Noticing a twinkle in Colonel A.’s eye as he spoke, I promised assent, asking him at the same time the reason for his request. “Well,” said he, “you’ve seen Colonel B.’s men and how their knapsacks bulge out with everything, while my boys haven’t even knapsacks, let alone anything to put in them. Now I don’t think Colonel B.’s men can stand another day of this hot weather with the loads they are toting. They are pretty well done up now, and tomorrow they’ll begin shedding. Just give my boys a chance to pick up some of their leavings.”
The next day was, as I remember, a scorcher, and I had the curiosity towards evening to rein up and watch the troops pass, curious to see the effect of Colonel A.’s maneuver. Presently came along Colonel B.’s men, footsore and limping, and with knapsacks, as I thought, a good deal depleted. Then came Colonel A. “look at my boys,” he cried, and, sure enough, the change was marvelous. Ragged, butternut trousers had been thrown away and replaced with trousers of Confederate gray or light blue, made of English cloth that had run the blockade. [emphasis added...] Many of the men had new pairs of shoes dangling by the strings from their muskets. “Just as I told you,” said Colonel A. “at the noon halt they began to shed, to empty their knapsacks, and when we came along after them it was as good as after a battle. The roadside was just strewn with socks, shoes, undershirts, trousers, everything you can think of. Why, to show the kind of truck some of those poor fellows were packing with the sun at 120 degrees, see here,” and the colonel produced from his haversack some of the opima spolia which had fallen to his own share—a camp inkstand, some cakes of brown Windsor soap and a hand mirror! Such was the fate of the well filled knapsacks, many of them doubtless packed by loving hands, when the soldiers who carried them came to march under a Mississippi sun even in the month of May.
An Ex-Staff Officer, C.S.A.
[Sun (Baltimore, MD), June 7, 1898.]
cheers,
James Marshall
Tampa Bay.
…In the latter part of May, 1863, it happened to fall to my duty temporarily to issue the daily order of march for a small body of troops who formed the nucleus of the force with Gen. Joseph E. Johnston was endeavoring to assemble for the possible relief of the army under General Pemberton, then shut up, or about to be shut up, in Vicksburg. The relieving force was composed of regiments and brigades drawn from different portions of the South, and was moving, after the evacuation of Jackson, between Canton and Yazoo City. The weather was hot and the sandy roads were deep with dust. One evening as the column halted for the night a colonel, whom I will call Colonel A., commanding a veteran regiment that had seen long and hard service, asked me if I would not, in designating the order of march, change the position of his regiment. “I would like my boys,” he said, “to follow Colonel B.’s regiment.” Colonel B.’s regiment, a very large one, and which had seen but little service, had arrived at Jackson a few days before by rail from the seacoast and had attracted attention by the newness and completeness of its equipment. Noticing a twinkle in Colonel A.’s eye as he spoke, I promised assent, asking him at the same time the reason for his request. “Well,” said he, “you’ve seen Colonel B.’s men and how their knapsacks bulge out with everything, while my boys haven’t even knapsacks, let alone anything to put in them. Now I don’t think Colonel B.’s men can stand another day of this hot weather with the loads they are toting. They are pretty well done up now, and tomorrow they’ll begin shedding. Just give my boys a chance to pick up some of their leavings.”
The next day was, as I remember, a scorcher, and I had the curiosity towards evening to rein up and watch the troops pass, curious to see the effect of Colonel A.’s maneuver. Presently came along Colonel B.’s men, footsore and limping, and with knapsacks, as I thought, a good deal depleted. Then came Colonel A. “look at my boys,” he cried, and, sure enough, the change was marvelous. Ragged, butternut trousers had been thrown away and replaced with trousers of Confederate gray or light blue, made of English cloth that had run the blockade. [emphasis added...] Many of the men had new pairs of shoes dangling by the strings from their muskets. “Just as I told you,” said Colonel A. “at the noon halt they began to shed, to empty their knapsacks, and when we came along after them it was as good as after a battle. The roadside was just strewn with socks, shoes, undershirts, trousers, everything you can think of. Why, to show the kind of truck some of those poor fellows were packing with the sun at 120 degrees, see here,” and the colonel produced from his haversack some of the opima spolia which had fallen to his own share—a camp inkstand, some cakes of brown Windsor soap and a hand mirror! Such was the fate of the well filled knapsacks, many of them doubtless packed by loving hands, when the soldiers who carried them came to march under a Mississippi sun even in the month of May.
An Ex-Staff Officer, C.S.A.
[Sun (Baltimore, MD), June 7, 1898.]
cheers,
James Marshall
Tampa Bay.
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