Conference smurf::civil_war

    Since I started this topic, here's an amusing story to start this
    off.
    
    During one of the battles around Beverly, Virginia (later West
    Virginia) the town was in the process of being surrounded by
    Confederates under the command of General William L. Jackson.
    He had divided his forces in order to cutoff the Federals 
    retreat and to block any attempts at a breakout. His other force
    was commanded by Colonel Dunn who was to attack at the same time
    as the main force of General Jackson. The all out attack had been 
    planned for 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the signal cannon fired to
    begin the attack but no Colonel Dunn or his troops. General Jackson
    attacked anyway but still no Colonel Dunn. All that day and night
    no word from Dunn, the next morning still no Dunn. General Jackson
    decided to attack again anyway but while he scanned the field of
    battle with his field glasses he changed his mind completely and
    retreated instead. Three full regiments of Union Cavalry were
    racing towards his position! He managed to escape but what became
    of Colonel Dunn. General Jackson blamed the failure of the attack
    on his subordinate.
    
    Evidently the problem with Colonel Dunn was caused by his "captured"
    of two barrels of excellent Randolph County whisky which fell into
    their hands at an "evil" hour. According to reliable witnesses, he
    and his men were so drunk they did not know whether they were Union
    or Confederate soldiers and for that matter they didn't care!
    
    This whole story is taken from "The History of Randolph County, West
    Virginia" by Hu Maxwell.
    
    Mike

    I don't have access to any of the details but I've always got a kick
    out of the story of the great Confederate snowball fight.  My poor
    memory tells me that it began between members of neighboring squads and
    expanded to included several thousand rebs, many of whom had never seen
    snow before.
    
    Must have been sum'thin.
    
    
    Marv
    

    
    Soldiers Wisdom.
    
    A doleful defender(in the Stonewall Brigade), who had been lying by the
    fire, with one side to it just long enough to get warm and comfortable,
    while the other got equeally cold and uncomfortable, rose up and having
    gathered his flapping blanket around him as well as possible
    stood nodding and staggering over the flames. When sparks set his
    blanket on fire it exhausted his patience and in the extremity of his
    disgust he exclaimed, "I wish the Yankees were in Hell!"
    As he yawned this with a sleepy drawl, around the fire there went a
    drowsy growl of approbation.
    One individual... shivering with cold but determined not to get up,
    "I don't, Old Jack would follow them there with our brigade in front!"
    
    
    J.G. Fifis
    
    36th Alabama Infantry
    "Sumter County Warriors"
    
    Netherlands.
    

    Not sure of which, where or when, but heard the story about a
    Senior Officer walking down the ranks of a Union Regiment on
    inspection and came across a private chewing on a piece of
    Hardtack. The Officer asked "Why are you eating Hardtack on
    parade?" The reply he got was "it's the juice Sir, I'm fond of
    the juice!". Anyone who's ever had Civil War Hardtack can easily
    understand the humor in that.