About midnight last night I was called up by the Adjutant to
take a detail of ten men, go to the rear, find the ammunition train, obtain
five thousand rounds of cartridges, five boxes. It was estimated the train was
about a mile in the rear, owing to the enemy's firing from field guns very late
in the night. The boxes were very heavy. The detail ought to have been twenty
men, as we had so far to carry the boxes. It was a fearful dark night. Going
back we lost our reckoning. Began to think we were approaching the enemy's
line. I ordered a halt. Told the boys I would go forward and investigate and
locate the regiment if I could. Going forward carefully, listening, looking in
all directions, believed I was approaching the enemy's line. I knew when
darkness came on both lines were very close to each other. To the right I could
see the outline of trees. Approaching them I saw horses, and men sleeping on
the ground. Owing to the darkness I could not see who they were. Putting on a
bold front I called out “What regiment?” For answer I received a glorious
reply, “The 18th Connecticut.” Overjoyed I near dropped to the ground. I ran
back to the boys and the ammunition was delivered to headquarters in safety,
for which I was very thankful. On our return from the ammunition train we had
worked off to the left, approached the regiment from the south instead of from the
north side, where we left. Lay down for a rest. Had a talk with some prisoners
captured last night on the charge. They were from Mississippi. Claimed they did
not know we were in their front. They were on their way to cross Snicker's Ford
and the Gap. It seemed to be a surprise all around. We are now under the
command of General Sheridan. The enemy won't fool him. At daylight the
ammunition was given out and the line of battle was changed. Ordered to fall
back and change our position. Passed the 12th Connecticut, in the 19th Corps.
We are under the command of Captain Tiffany. Owing to severe service for the
past eight months our regiment greatly reduced in numbers. Less than one
hundred men fit for duty and not a field officer except the Adjutant. Our regiment
detailed to guard the wagon train. Don't like that kind of duty. Must take our
turn at it. Guerillas keep us busy. As many of them dress in blue uniforms we
cannot tell them from our own men. Sometimes they manage to cut out of a train
three or four wagons loaded with supplies. The drivers will most generally obey
orders, whether from friend or foes, when they see a gun pointed at their
heads. Sometimes it is most impossible to keep the teams close together, but at
this time the train is parked, so we stand guard around it. All is quiet at
this time along our lines at Berryville.
SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary,
1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 120-2
