Nothing glorious about it

 [After Gettysburg] Lee's first thought was for his wounded. Imboden had reached Williamsport safely with the trains after a day and night march of unspeakable horror. He said years later that the cries, scream, and moans of the wounded, some of them entreating to be shot to end their misery, would remain vividly in his memory till death. At Greencastle, the citizens ran into the streets with axes and cut the wheels from under some wagons, dumping their pain-wracked loads into the road. Imboden galloped back into the town in a towering rage and arrested every man he could find and held them as prisoners of war.

(from They'll Do To Tie To, by Major Calvin Collier)

Arkansas toothpicks

 In just one short week the reputation of the [Third Arkansas Regiment] with a rifle had become legend. Their deadly markmanship was a source of wonder to men from other states training in the area. The hill men of "F" Company claimed that they learned this trade while "barking" squirrels in Arkansas. This, they said, was the art of firing a bullet between a spuirrel's ers so close to his head tht the shock killed him, thereby doing no damage to the animal. Witnesses who saw them shoot had no doubt as to the accuracy of this tale! These men with the strange, soft accent, so foreign to the men of Virginia, had brought with them a peculiar piece of equipment which also became legend in the Army - a vicious-looking knife. This weapon was about twelve inches long and had a peculiar-shaped, slightly-curved blade of three inches in width that ended in a sudden, razor-edged point. This nasty instrument had the dubious title of "Arkansas toothpick." Practically every man in the regiment carried one of these weapons and through mock battles demonstrated that they were masters in its use!

(from They'll Do to Tie To, by Major Calvin L. Collier) My great-grandfather served in this regiment.

Words to think about

 "As a man becomes more aged and has bettered his reasoning, the clarer insight he has to the great danger of unreasoned public agitation." (William A. Fletcher, from Rebel Private: Front and Rear)

No room for squeamishness

 Fletcher's comments about slaughter are not for the squeamish. He felt not a whit of regret at the sight of the enemy's dead. On the contrary, such scenes elated him. The more blue-coated corpses he saw, the greater his satisfaction. He shrugs at seeming callous in this respect, for his pleasure had a practical foundation: the heavier the enemy's losses, the better his own chances of staying alive. This is a line of thought common to combat soldiers, but few tend to voice it so coolly

(from the Introduction to Rebel Private: Front and Rear. The introduction is by Richard Wheeler, and the book was by William A. Fletcher.)

Read - always read

His formal education was scant, but he overcame this lack through a devotion to reading. Objective in his view of the human condition, he wasn't afraid to question conventional attitudes. Though poor when he went to war, and handicapped by the economic uncetainties of Reconstruction when he came home, he managed, through innovative lumbering ventures, to die a man of wealth and high social standing.

(from the Introduction to Revel Private: Front and Rear, by William A. Fletcher)

There he goes again!

     "When I met Cynthia in Market Blandings, she told me what the trouble was which made her husband leave her. What do you suppose it was?"

    "From my brief acquaintance with Comrade McTodd, I would hazard the guess that he tried to tab her with the bread-knife. He struck me as a murderous-looking specimen."

    "They had some poeple to dinner, and there was chicken, and Cynthia gave all the giblets to the guests, and her husband bounded out of his seat with a wild cry, and, shouting 'You know I love those things better than anything in the world!' rushed from the house, never to return!"

    "Precisely how I would have wished him to rush, had I been Mrs. McTodd."

    "Cynthia told me that he had rushed from the house, never to return, six times since they were married."

(from Leave It To Psmith, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

No, Baxter, not those pyjamas!

 To find oneself locked out of a country-house at half-past two in the morning in lemon-coloured pyjamas can never be an unmixedly agreeable experience, and Baxter was a man less fitted by nature to endure it with equanimity than most men. His was a fiery and an arrogant soul, and he seethed in furious rebellion against the intolerable position into which Fate had manoeuvred him. He even went so far as to give the front door a petulant kick. Finding, however, that this hurt his toes and accomplished no useful end, he addressed himself to the task of ascertaining whether there was any way of getting in - short of banging the knocker and rousing the house, a line of action which did commend itself to him. He made a practice of avoiding as far as possible the ribald type of young man of which the castle was now full, and he had no desire to meet them at this hour in his present costume.

(from Leave It To Psmith, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)