| TRAVELOGUE, PT.9: SUNDAY EVENING INTO MONDAY MORNING (Petersburg, VA to Birmingham, AL): A lot of people died at Petersburg for nothing. Practically speaking, the war was over -- the South was totally on fumes, and out of resources. Still, under such ridiculously daunting conditions, these resilient bastards hunkered down in Petersburg for nine months. Despite repeated bombardments, the North could not crack the Confederate entrenchments. This was the last fortification between Grant's Army and the CSA capital in Richmond. To resolve the loggerhead, the Union used Pennsylvania coal miners to dig a tunnel under the Rebel's entrenchments and packed it with explosives. Once detonated, a Negro battalion was supposed to lead the charge into the crater. For political reasons, they were withdrawn. Straws were drawn for the honor of leading the charge and the short straw went to a commander whose troops were utter greenhorns and many of whom barely knew how to load their rifles.... My great, great, great grandfather William Davis Montgomery was at the crater and writes in his memoirs that he could hear the Federals digging the tunnel underneath his battalion's position. (He was also at Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Second Manassas, Antietam and Gettysburg and somehow survived *all* of it... One night on a scouting mission in Spotsylvania, he also captured three Yankees single-handedly... the guy was pretty epic, imho...) Wm. Davis Montgomery writes that when the underground explosion went off at Petersburg, a crater was formed and the Federals charged into their doom. The greenhorns failed to act expeditiously, which gave the stunned and shaken graycoats enough time to compose themselves. The Confederates were in the catbird seat as it were, gathered around the circumference of a raised circle and the Union men were caught in a bowl. As the grays began shooting the proverbial fish in a barrel, the Union troops attempted to a pell-mell retreat back into the tunnel, which was now sealed by wave upon wave of charging Negro and white troops. It was another example of unspeakable butchery, all of which seems to define the Civil War... Coincidentally, shortly after this debacle, my great, great, great grandfather came down with a case of chronic diarrhea, which is not surprising considering the lack of hygiene as well as dubious condition of the food during wartime. Anyway, as the fighting continued at Petersburg, he was sent to Richmond and the hospital, but was denied a bed, which was needed for minie ball wounds and amputations. Montgomery was sent down to his home in Starkville, Mississippi and was told to see army doctors for evaluations. By the time he was well enough to fight again, Richmond had finally fallen. My feeling is that his chronic diarrhea saved his life by taking him out of harm's way at Petersburg. And that ain't no shit.... And now, 140 years later, the hole in the earth has repaired itself somewhat. I left Petersburg at 5:30 at night -- it rained all day and all of the night -- and I drove to Bobo's house in Birmingham, getting there at 2 in the morning. We rode bikes the next day, and then I drove to Jackson and returned the rentacar in another hailstorm. -FINI- |