Each morning General Sherman would order the razing of the enemy’s barns; only to return a day later to find each and every structure rebuilt, much to his chagrin.
Colby Faught – Historian

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Across the field they came. Steady in their ranks, their manly hirsute chins forwardly thrust; suspenders resplendent in the morning sun. Any among us who claims not to have been chilled at the sight . . . is a damned liar.
Cpl. Jedediah Crabclaw – 21st Massachusetts Infantry

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At times, our lines were so close that, on a night, we could jape back ‘n’ forth, good natured even. We might shout at them that the make up of their uniforms was lackin in color. They, in turn, would call us hair-lips. In the mornin’, o’course, we’d recommence to killin each other without a thought.
1st SGT Sycamore Jones – 1st Connecticut Volunteers.

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We came to cherish nothing more than the sight of the orange triangle. Cause that meant they was running away. Real slow, to be sure. But running away nonetheless.
Capt. Winthrop Cornpatch – Maine “Fightin’” 32nd

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General McClellan was known to stay up all hours with his staff. Drinkin’, carousin’, and playing that peculiar Yankee mushroom-stamping game. It’s little wonder he was unceremoniously dismissed.
Colby Faught – Historian

© 2014 Whiskey Leavins