In Defense of the Flag. David W. Stafford
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two or three days. Well, I went around in the enclosure of the distributing camp, which was surrounded with a fence ten or twelve feet high. At the south side there was a piece of a board off, about two feet in length, and through this I finally made my way and started for the city, taking the chances of the guards shooting me. They halted, then followed me some distance, but I got to the city, and with a good deal of trouble I finally got through the guard lines that surrounded the town and went to the church where my brother was, but, oh, what a surprise awaited me! At the door or entrance I found the hospital steward and the old lady who had cared for and shown my poor brother the way to his Redeemer, and on entering to where the couch was I found to my sorrow that he had died the day before and was laid in the cemetery to rest, and it is difficult to tell what a sad night I put in that night, lying on the same couch where my poor brother had died, and thinking of what the next day would bring forth, and knowing that I had deserted from the camp. It indeed was a sad night to me, yet with my faith and trust in God I was in hopes that I would not be punished for deserting camp. Oh, how this continued to haunt me through the night: And the loss of my poor brother! All this made me very sad, indeed. Well, when morning dawned I went and gave myself up to the guards and returned to camp, and to tell you the truth, this seemed like a hopeless trip. I finally arrived at camp and went before the commander. He well remembered my pleading a day or two before and wanted to know if I understood what deserting would do to me if brought to trial. I told him I did. “Well, young man,” said he, “did you find your brother?” In this talk to me I broke down and told him plainly of finding his empty couch and of the sad night I had spent, and he told me to go to my quarters. “Young man, it is all right. I would have done the same thing myself.” This seemed to lift a great weight off me. I went to the barracks with a light heart then.
I will soon commence relating the tale of my confinement in the rebel prison and the story of my escape. After the death of my brother I had no desire to stay longer near Washington or Alexandria, but I wanted to go to the front and get into the battles for my country, and if need be die for it. I did indeed feel sad at heart at this time. Soon there came an order for the men who were able to bear arms to turn out, for part of Longstreet’s corps had come to Washington while Gen. Grant was at Richmond, to see if the rebels could not take Washington. While our army was trying to take Richmond the enemy came up on the Baltimore Pike and got almost into Washington. Here we had a very severe battle, which ended in our driving out the rebels from the city of Washington.
Now soon after our trouble with the enemy, we were sent by transport to Richmond. Here, in rifle pits and bumproofs and from forts, we had some very severe cannonading. We charged each other until we were called to go on a reconnoitering trip on the south side of Richmond and south of Petersburg, on what was called the Weldon railroad. This road we tore up and continued to hold it against all the odds that could be brought to bear against us.
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